by Stacey Nash
He doesn’t fall for my trick. Instead he pokes me in the side with a long finger. Warmth shoots from the place where he touched, seeps into my stomach, chest, and neck.
“Stop it.” I giggle.
I jab my finger out toward him, but he jumps away, too quick for me. I stab at him again, but it’s like trying to catch a springing grasshopper—impossible. Once more, but he grabs my wrists and pins my arms. I pretend to struggle against his grip. Laughing, I look up, and his gaze traps mine, traps me. His exquisite green eyes dance with fun. The brown flecks draw me into a separate world held within them. The tip of his tongue slides over his bottom lip. I lean in toward him, a funny fluttering in my chest. My lips don’t quite touch his. He pulls back, sliding to the seat’s far end.
My throat aches, tightens, making it difficult to swallow. Dark spots dance in front of my eyes. “You’re so damn difficult to read, Jax,” I say. “Make up your mind about what you want.”
“Fine.” His eyes widen till the green irises seem tiny, his brow furrows, and his gaze drops. He walks away down the elm-lined path.
Chapter Sixteen
HANDS STUFFED IN HIS pockets, Jax paces up and down the elm-lined avenue, looking straight ahead, ignoring me like I don’t exist. The wall between us slammed higher than ever. It’s my own stupid fault. I shouldn’t have expected him to react any different. Why would he want to talk about anything ‘real’ now, when he hasn’t before?
Relief softens my body when Will and Lilly’s silhouettes emerge from the shadows at the far end of the path. Thank God they’re finally here. They have to be well over three quarters of an hour late. Sure enough when I check my watch, it’s just after one fifteen. I’d recognize Will anywhere; the shape of his outline, his long strides, the way his body jostles from side to side as he walks. Strong, honest, reliable, that’s my Will.
“Been here long?” he asks.
“Long enough.” I glance at Jax walking toward us.
“What’s the plan?” Lilly says.
“Good question.” I nod at Jax, who slides back down onto the park bench. “Ask him.”
An all-knowing, worried expression clouds Lilly’s face. She knows something’s not right. I shake my head just enough for her to pick up that now’s not the time. Jax’s face is set in an expressionless mask.
“What happened here?” Will says.
I shoot him a glare. “Nothing.”
The corners of Will’s mouth turn upward a little like he’s trying not to smile.
“The Council building is over there.” Jax points to an old one-story building with a high-pitched roof. Its true facade is hidden under modern beige rendering like an architectural facelift. Just another administration office blending in with the other buildings.
Lilly points to words rising in an arc across the front. “What’s that mean?”
“Bonum commune communitatis.” The foreign words roll off Jax’s tongue fluidly. “For the common good of the community.”
Lilly huffs and rolls her eyes. “Typical controlling, freakish, think they know what’s best for….” Her face puckers. “Everyone.”
Jax picks at a loose thread on his pants and mumbles under his breath, “Navigating is simple once we’re inside. There are rooms on ground level, but we need to go below, to the underground levels where they usually hold prisoners.”
A prisoner. Is that what Dad is? Please, no… but he is. I gulp and push away the images which rush into my mind. Focus is what I need if I’m going to help him.
“How do you know that?” Lilly asks.
“Past lives, old missions, you know.” A small half-smile steals onto Jax’s lips.
“Did you get weapons?” The thin edge of impatience rests in Will’s tone.
“We can’t do that here.” Jax’s gaze takes in all the people walking by, and he’s right. It’s a busy park, especially in the early afternoon. Office workers are taking lunch and people enjoy the sunshine.
He steps out, and we follow, looking for somewhere safe.
Dense bushes bunch together near a small rock cliff. There’s just enough space for us all to squish in hunched over. The area’s secluded, so there’s no way anyone can see in. Will folds back low-lying branches, making more room in the small space. The smell of leaves and dirt and dampness hang in the air, magnified by a thin line of water trickling down the rock face. Jax delves into his backpack and pulls out the same sheathed dagger I carried when we attempted to expose The Collective. He holds it out to me and, with his head down, continues to paw through the bag.
I close my hand around the cool metal, secure the sheath around my arm with buckled straps, and jiggle it around, trying to pull it out fast. It snags on the sleeve of my coat. It won’t do. I need a smooth draw.
He passes Lilly a long, thin dagger which she slides into her boot, followed by another and another. Four of them she secretes around her person. Sweet, kind Lilly, armed like an assassin. The vision brings a smile, not at all what I envisioned. She’s tough.
Jax pulls something which looks like a cross between a mace and a police baton out of the bag. Its thick, wooden handle with inlaid grip extends almost half a meter. The end balloons out and comes together to create several ridges which project at right angles, forming a collar around the top. Will holds his hand out. Jax raises a brow and hands the odd weapon over. Will moves it from one hand to the other, weighing it.
“Nice. I tried one of these in training,” he says. “The stun capabilities are excellent.”
Jax’s eyes come to life like Marcus when he talks tech. “It’s an impressive weapon. Really effective if you hit the right spot.”
Will nods with a huge grin as he sticks the macelike weapon through a loop in his belt. Why can’t they get on like this more often? It’s so much better than butting heads. Some weapons, the threat of danger, is that what it takes?
Jax straps a sheathed blade to his leg, places a second around his forearm, and delves into the backpack again, extracting the small drawstring bag.
“A gift from Marcus.” He tosses a fabric ball to each of us. “Pull it over your clothes, and it’ll form a protective shield.”
“I didn’t know we had protect-its.” Lilly steps into the fishnet material and draws it on like a whole body stocking.
I pull mine on over my clothes. It sits against me, tight and restrictive like a pair of new jeans. The pinkish fishnet material stands out against my clothes for a few seconds before it shimmers and the pink darkens, changing to the same blue as my denim. The tightness eases off a little at a time until it’s like it’s not even there.
Lilly holds out her arm, turns it over and around, examining it. She looks up with a wide grin. “Cooler than expected.”
Will’s suit hangs across his hand like a dead fish. I shoot him a questioning look, and he gestures to Jax with an upward tilt of his chin. “Where’s his?”
“There’s only three,” I tell Will.
“You wear it.” Will throws the protect-it at Jax.
“Always the do-gooder.” Jax smirks. “Put it on, Dudley. Your bravery won’t impress anyone when you cop a bullet to the heart.” He tosses it back to Will. “Except maybe the coroner.”
Jax pushes something into his ear. A black and shiny bud sits in the opening, held in place by a thin piece curling up, over, and behind his ear like a security guard earpiece, only smaller.
A small, muffled noise spins me around. Lilly’s dancing eyes meet mine, her hand covering her mouth to stifle a giggle. Her other hand, cupped in front of her, is full of small pebbles. She pegs one right at my chest. It bounces off.
“Hey!”
“Cool.” She does it again.
The realization hits me like cold water thrown in my face—we’re using tech. My stomach reels. “Stop it, Lilly. We can’t use tech. Their agents will come.”
“Not here,” Jax says. “We’re in their territory. That will be dismissed as their own.”
Will scowls and pulls
the suit on over his clothes. Jax must have won out. A shimmery film connects each of the raised spheres right before the silky threads change color. The fishnet blends into the background like a fading photo. The connecting film blends too.
Lilly gives an impish grin and tosses a volley of pebbles at Will.
Jax ignores all of us, fiddling with more earpieces. “There’re four of these.” He passes me a piece identical to the one curled around his left ear. I push it in mine. Lilly and Will do the same.
“Testing. Can you hear me?” Jax’s voice echoes through my head like it’s one of my thoughts.
I jump and peer around, shaking my head to free his voice from bouncing around inside. I expected it to be like the bike helmet’s Bluetooth, and the ear piece would be a speaker. This is just plain unnerving.
“Yes,” I say at the same time as Will. Lilly doesn’t answer.
“Use your thoughts,” Jax says in my mind. “It’s a telcom. You don’t need to speak out loud.” He bends down and readjusts the blade strapped on his leg. His hair falls into his eyes and, despite our earlier argument, I want to reach out and push it back. If I do, though, will I be able to stop at just one touch?
“I know I’m hot, but really, you want to share those thoughts with everyone?” The infuriating smirk twists his mouth as he straightens up.
Lilly stifles a chuckle.
My eyes forget to blink. There’s no way. He can’t know what I was thinking.
“Heard that too, cupcake. You need to be more careful what you project,” he says out loud.
He can hear my thoughts. I turn my back, trying to hide the heat rising from my neck, to my cheeks, all the way to my ears.
“Don’t be an ass.” Lilly hurls the rest of her pebbles at him, but he just laughs.
“Tele stands for telepathic, as in passing thoughts from one mind to another. If you think of projecting the thought to someone, they will hear your voice in their mind.” She straightens the telcom in her ear. “Like this.” Her voice bounces through my mind, an echo which sounds just like her.
“Lilly, can you hear me?” I think.
She nods. Must have worked. “You can choose to speak to as many or as few people as you like, provided they are wearing a telcom.”
“What did you think? I’ll make him apologize,” Will says inside my head.
“Forget it.”
I stuff my jacket into the backpack, and Lilly slings it over her shoulder.
“We’ll go in through the front door,” Jax says.
Will’s hand darts to the mace at his belt, grabbing it with a white-knuckled clutch. “It’s the middle of the day. Won’t there be Collective agents inside?”
Lilly peeks between the bushes into the park. “If we wait a little while the lunch rush will be over.”
“Fine.” Jax slides onto the ground, his back against the rock.
After what must be at least half an hour of silence and Lilly drawing patterns in the dirt, Jax rises to his feet and says, “Follow my lead.”
We follow him out of the small clearing, out of the trees, out of the park.
Heaviness hangs in my gut as I stand before the cement-rendered building, which oozes abandonment. I glance at my friends, but no one seems to notice, so I ignore the ominous feeling prickling the tips of my shoulders. Instead, I follow Jax up the steps, which extend all the way across the front of the building. Two massive wooden doors rise up above us, forming the shape of an arch.
Jax stops still, stares at the door, and moves backward down the steps. “It doesn’t feel right.”
Will stumbles into me in his mirrored retreat. “It feels like… trouble.”
“Thank God, it’s not just me being paranoid.” I sidestep out of Will’s path.
We all back away, casting suspicious glances at the doors. Jax disappears down the side of the building and into a narrow alley. Shadows envelope us as we move into it, cast by a neighboring building. The long, straight wall is broken by a dark metal door on the side of the Council building. It stands at the top of a few steps like an emergency exit. Relief spreads through me. It doesn’t have the same creepy sensation as the front of the building. At least, not that I can tell.
Jax strides up the narrow steps and reaches for the handle, turns it, and the door opens. He pokes his head inside before vanishing into the building. “It’s clear. Looks like a storage room.”
My gaze flits over the alley, confirming no one can see us. Walking up the steps two at a time, I reach for the door, but my hand won’t close around the bolt. Strange. I reach out again and come up against some kind of soft and squishy barrier that my hand sinks into. The ominous feeling returns with a sharp clarity. No matter how hard I try, the door can’t be reached.
“What’s wrong?” Will asks.
“I can’t get in.” I project the thought to all of them.
“Walk through the door.” Jax’s voice carries his usual flair, like he’s laughing at me.
“There’s some kind of barrier.” I step away.
Jax appears, holding the door open. “Try it now.”
Will pushes past me, walks up to the door, lifts his right leg to step over the threshold, but it hits the barrier and hangs in midair like a half-dead helium balloon. If he’s stuck too, it must be a Collective defense. Snorts and giggles erupt from Lilly behind me, and I find myself giggling too. It looks funny, his leg just hanging there at an odd angle.
“Nice dance move.” Jax graces Will with a wink.
Will extracts the limb with a suctioning slurp. He bounds down the stairs, turns, and runs past me right at the opened door, hitting the barrier with force. For a mere second it envelopes him whole.
Damn. Rushing at the door, why didn’t I think of that? I’m not sure how to help him out, though. Hopefulness steals the wind from my lungs. He has to be able to breathe. He’s thrown into the air and over the side of the steps and lands on the dirty concrete with a thud.
“Huh, that’s odd.” Jax walks back and forth through the doorway.
Will rises, brushing hands over his jeans, shirt, and jacket.
“Let me try.” Lilly strides toward the door. She pushes her hand toward the door handle, leans in, and strains with effort, but it’s no use. It’s the same. She’s elbow deep in the barrier when she gives up, pulling her arm out with a soft squish.
“Must be the protect-its.” Jax disappears into the building again.
Will and I exchange a troubled look. He rubs the back of his neck and meets my gaze. “What the heck is he doing?”
I shrug. Jax seemed certain this is where Dad would be. A rush of excitement spreads through my veins—he’s so close. Soon we’ll have him. But it’s dulled by a growing knot of dread in the pit of my stomach. God knows what state he’ll he be in when we find him and he might still think I’m dead. That should be easy enough to fix when he sees me, though. It’ll be clear I’m here, clear their mind tricks aren’t true. Hopefully he’ll be himself, and it won’t matter.
“Got it.” Jax appears in the doorway, his shoulder resting against the frame and a grin radiating smugness on his face. “Try it again.”
He must have turned it off somehow. Okay, we’re ready to go. Before I can move, Will’s already at the door and disappears through. I dip my foot into the entrance to test it. Nothing happens. A tentative step into the doorway with a held breath, and—nothing. So I walk through and into a small room which smells of bleach and dust. My vision shadows with spots, taking a moment to adjust to the darkness. Brooms and mops lean stacked up against a wall next to piles of boxes and a big plastic container. Will’s arm presses against mine, squishing me in at the other side against Lilly. The small room was not designed to hold four people, I guess.
“Hey, Jax,” Lilly says. “How’d you fix it so we could get in? I mean, the barrier must be against tech, right?” Lilly’s voice carries no depth, like she’s not so sure.
“Yep, I think so.” Jax stands near a door opposite me, shuffles
against the rest of us to turn around and opens it to peer out.
My glance meets Lilly’s. He didn’t answer the first question. I repeat it. “So how come we’re in now?”
“I tripped it. Let’s go.” Jax creeps through the door.
The others make no sign of moving, so I jostle my way past them and emerge into a wide corridor. It takes several blinks to adjust my eyes to the bright light of afternoon sun glinting off every surface. My head cringes away from the glare, turning into my shoulder. Marble pillars run from the floor all the way to the high ceiling lining both sides of the hall. It’s more beautiful than any building I’ve ever seen before, but there’s not time to admire the architecture. We have to find Dad, and fast.
“Quick. Hide behind the columns.” Jax scurries to the closest one.
I rush out to join him, bent over for speed and stealth, but he runs to the next pillar just as I get there. Lilly crowds in behind me, followed by Will. My feet glide across the slippery floor like I’m on ice skates as I scurry along. After darting between at least a dozen columns, Jax and I reach the last one from the end of the hall, which seems to turn at a right angle and continue on. The steady sound of voices wafting down the sun-filled hallway makes my heart beat double time. Their words are barely audible through the pounding in my ears.
“This president isn’t working out,” a male voice says.
“I know. He’s not open to our persuasion,” says a second man.
The closer they move toward us, the louder they become. “It’s not from lack of effort on Theras’s behalf, though. The man is completely closed off to the usual forms of political influence.”
“Then it’s time to replace him.” The second man sounds like he’s talking about something mundane.
They come into view. Jax pulls me toward him. We hold as still as we can, jammed behind the tall pillar. Dark shadows hang under his dull eyes. He’s still so tired. The desire to get a glimpse of the Councilors who have caused me so much heartache nearly makes me burst, but I dare not move a muscle. Finally, the footsteps fade. Jax lets out a long breath which tickles my neck and sends a shiver vibrating through me.