Variant Lost (The Evelyn Maynard Trilogy Book 1)

by Kaydence Snow

  Obviously my mother had known something serious enough to keep us moving my entire childhood. How much of it had had to do with the four men downstairs—four powerful, dangerous men?

  She looked happy in that photo. People don’t leave happy lives for no good reason.

  I stood up on shaky legs. There had to be an explanation.

  I folded the photo and stuffed it into my back pocket, moving toward the door, determined to get some answers. I would march down there, ask why they had a photo of my mother, and make them tell me everything. I was done with being kept in the dark by the people closest to me.

  But halfway to the door, I stopped. Uncertainty wrapped around my throat like a vice, making it hard to move or breathe. If they had known who I really was this whole time, that meant they all had been lying to me.

  My mother’s face flashed through my mind. The sensation of her hand slipping out of mine as she disappeared into the darkness . . .

  It had been a confusing, overwhelming day, but one thing I could be sure of without a shadow of a doubt? My mother had always had my best interests at heart. She may have kept a lot of secrets, but I never questioned her love for me. As much as I’d struggled with our nomadic lifestyle, I’d always trusted her.

  I wasn’t about to stop now.

  If my mother had given up her life to keep me away from this place, possibly away from these people, then I needed to get out of here. Now.

  The balcony was my best bet. I crossed the room, listening for approaching footsteps, and peered through the curtains by the balcony door. The coast was clear.

  As quickly and quietly as possible, I made my way outside and over to the stairs leading into the grounds, then rushed down them. The stairs ended at the side of the house. Just around the corner was the winding driveway, the window to Tyler’s office, and past that, the grand front doors.

  I had to get across the open grass area to reach the cover of the trees lining the driveway. Anyone who happened to look out on that side of the house would see me. I hoped like hell they were all still in the office, too preoccupied with Alec’s revelations to look out the window.

  I took a deep breath and crossed the grass at a steady pace. If anyone in the house were to look out, it would seem suspicious if I was running like a maniac or sneaking like a cat burglar.

  Those twenty seconds were the longest of my life. I didn’t dare turn around. The adrenaline pumping through my body was demanding that I break into a run, but I managed to remain in control until I reached the trees.

  Then I did break into a run. No one could see me now, and I needed to put as much distance as possible between me and the mansion.

  I ran as fast as I could to the front gates, emerging onto the wide, tree-lined street. Once again I had to keep a normal pace. I couldn’t chance drawing attention, but I didn’t know how long it would be before they noticed I was missing. I settled on a light jog and hoped that if I kept a steady pace, I would just look as if I were out for a run.

  Nothing to see here people; just burning some calories.

  I made it to campus without incident, but my heart was hammering in my chest. I’d spent the entire time glancing back, expecting to see Tyler’s black SUV pulling up behind me, the tinted windows hiding the men inside poised to grab me.

  I had been so focused on getting out of the Zacarias mansion and away from the guys that I’d neglected to make any real plan. As I reached the front door of the room I shared with the Reds, I paused, realizing my potentially fatal mistake.

  This is the first place they would come looking for me. What other place did I have to go? Stupid! How could I have been so predictable? What if they’d already noticed my absence and were on their way? What if they’d called Zara and Beth, and my roomies unknowingly delayed my escape. Or, and here my stomach sank, what if Zara and Beth were in on it? Did they know too?

  I was crippled with indecision, my hand poised over the door handle. Go in or run for it again? Quick! Decide! Your life could depend on it!

  The memory of my mother’s voice repeatedly telling me to “never trust anyone” had me pulling my hand back.

  I looked up and down the corridor, no idea how much time I had. Doing my best to stop my hands from shaking, I quietly made my way back down the hallway, then ran down the stairs and out the door.

  Pausing, I glanced around the corner. I only had a partial view of the lane winding up toward the front gate, but no black SUVs were coming toward me, so I hurried down the stairs.

  The sun had retreated behind clouds and taken some of the heat with it. If I wasn’t so flushed from the running and the panic, I would have been cold. I took the walking tracks through campus to a side entrance—the one closest to the center of town and the train station.

  Memories of all the times my mom and I had packed up and disappeared kept flashing through my mind. Tears pricked my eyes as panic threatened to take over, but I knew I had to get out of town. Fast. It was what she would have done.

  The adrenaline was not letting up, making it difficult for me to calm my breathing and formulate some kind of plan. As I walked through town toward the train station, I kept looking over my shoulder, fractured thoughts and half-baked strategies flying through my mind too fast to grasp.

  Only one paranoid thought managed to stick—I needed to change my appearance. The image of my mother hacking mercilessly at her hair before dying it some awful yellow-blonde burst across my brain.

  I gathered my hair into a ponytail, my eyes scanning the busy street in front of me. Without thinking about it too much, I snagged a hoodie that was slung over the back of a chair in front of a café, its owner probably inside paying their bill. Awkwardly juggling the two pieces of clothing as I hastened my steps, I pulled my loose sweater over my head and dropped it in the trash, pulling on the gray hoodie in its place. It was at least two sizes too big and smelled faintly of smoke.

  I thought about getting a taxi into the city, but my mother and I had never taken taxis when we moved. Taxis had cameras and route logs and drivers who made small talk and remembered your face. The anonymity of public transport was a much better way to go.

  I made it to the station only to find that the next train to New York wasn’t due for another ten minutes. I had no choice. I had to wait. I picked a spot near the exit and pulled my hood low over my face.

  Those ten minutes felt like hours. I was jumpy and constantly looking around, expecting them to burst onto the platform at any moment. I probably looked like a paranoid drug addict.

  When the train finally pulled into the station, I all but sprinted into it, launched myself into a seat in the far back, then bounced my leg maniacally until the doors closed and we moved off. At last, I took a deep breath and leaned back.

  I was so on edge that when my phone rang in my back pocket, it startled me so badly that I shot out of my seat, gaining me some strange looks, including one from a guy in a bright pink leotard and Santa hat. Even the weirdos on the train thought I was a weirdo.

  The incoming call was from Tyler. I waited for it to ring out, then unlocked the screen. I had sixteen text messages and twelve missed calls. How had I not heard it going off before? I had been so focused on my surroundings, so worried I was about to get caught, that I’d forgotten it was even in my pocket.

  The messages were from Ethan and Josh—text after text asking where I was and if I was OK, and saying that they wanted to talk. The last few said how worried they were.

  There was one from Zara too:

  You OK? Your boyfriend and his 3 pseudo brothers showed up here looking for you. What did you do? LOL

  And then another one straight after.

  What did THEY do? I don’t care what kind of scary abilities they have, I will fuck them up.

  Shit. They knew I was on the run.

  It took an hour to get into the city, and I watched the doors with trepidation at every stop, waiting for one of them to step inside and haul me off. Past getting out of Bradford Hi
lls, I had no plan whatsoever. Knowing they knew I was gone, I would have to find which train was leaving first and just go there. I would literally be getting on a train going anywhere, just like that stupid Journey song.

  Which made me think of how Josh loved his music and how frantic Ethan’s last text was and how Tyler had tried to call me twelve times. A little lump in my throat formed as I thought of them.

  But I had to be strong. Something was not right here. This was exactly the kind of thing my mom had been warning me about my whole life. They had lured me in—these feelings were not real. It was the opposite of emotional blackmail. It was emotional entrapment. Was that a thing? I’d have to look it up in one of the psych books. If it wasn’t a thing, I was making it thing. I gave myself props for coining a term while under duress and on the run.

  It was a good distraction for about three seconds.

  I turned my phone off and focused on not getting upset—my life depended on it. As soon as the train pulled into Grand Central, I would beeline for the ticket counter.

  I was beginning to get hot and uncomfortable in the hoodie, so I took it off as the train pulled into the station. It was probably good to change my appearance again anyway. I was now in just jeans and a black tank top, the hoodie tied around my waist.

  Stepping off the train and into the crowd, I looked around. The ticket counters would probably be in the main section, and following the crowd off the platform was my best bet for avoiding attention. Everyone was heading toward a staircase leading up, so I joined the flow of bodies and tried to keep pace.

  At the bottom of the stairs, one hand on the railing, I looked up to see where I was going, and my eyes locked with a pair of ice-blue ones.

  My stomach dropped.

  Alec was standing with his legs apart and his arms crossed over his black-clad chest. He was staring right at me, eyes narrowed, but he was too far away for me to see his expression. Was it angry? Annoyed? Murderous?

  None of the others were anywhere in sight, and I wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. Regardless, I was caught.

  I had tried my best to do as my mother would have wanted, and I had failed.

  Twenty-Two

  Alec’s intense stare pinned me to the spot. Panic rose inside me again, my palms getting sweaty and my breathing becoming erratic. He couldn’t hurt me with his ability, but there was more than one way to inflict pain, and I had a feeling Alec was intimately acquainted with all of them.

  I looked over my shoulder, searching for another way out. There was nothing other than the edge of the platform and the dark tunnel into which the train was disappearing. I briefly considered taking my chances with the tunnel, but I knew the limits of the human body and I had a better chance of surviving an altercation with Alec than I did with a moving train, so I turned back to him.

  He flopped his arms by his sides and rolled his eyes. “Can we just talk?” His voice echoed off the concrete walls.

  The platform had cleared. It was just me and him. He started down the stairs, and I immediately backed away, matching him step for step.

  Halfway down, he slowed to a stop, his brow creasing as he watched me retreat. “Are you . . . scared? Evelyn, you know I can’t hurt you with my ability. I would never do that, even if I could.”

  “How do you know my name?” I gritted out between clenched teeth. His use of my real name had confirmed my suspicions. I no longer believed he would give me the truth about anything, but I couldn’t help asking the question.

  “That’s what we need to talk about. I handled this so badly . . . but when the boys went to look for you, you were gone, and . . .” He looked uncertain, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion, but he wasn’t making any sense.

  I had nothing left to lose. I reached into my back pocket and pulled out the photo from Josh’s room.

  “I know.” I thrust the photo toward him, my voice shaky but loud in the cavernous space. “What . . . ? Why . . . ?” I wasn’t sure what I was accusing him of. My mother had never actually told me why she kept us moving, but it had to have something to do with Bradford Hills. It was too much of a coincidence.

  He finished his descent and stood before me, reaching for the photo. As soon as he grabbed it, I stepped back, putting more distance between us.

  With a soft curse, he pulled his phone out of his pocket, tapped at it, then put it away again.

  “I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours, but you don’t know the full story.” He held the photo out so I could see it. “What do you think this proves? Obviously it has you spooked enough to run away.” I didn’t move to retrieve the photo—it felt like a trap.

  Why did he sound as if he only now realized I was making a run for it? Wasn’t that the whole reason he was here? To kidnap me back to Bradford Hills and . . . and . . .

  It was becoming more difficult to think clearly. I let out a grunt of frustration, turning away from him and tugging at my hair.

  When I spun back around, realizing I’d given my back to the enemy, he was in the exact same spot he was in before, arms crossed over his broad chest, watching me with those intense blue eyes.

  When he’d raked his gaze over my body the night of the gala, it had felt exciting and sensual. Now his gaze just made my skin crawl.

  “What are we waiting for?” I wanted him to make a move. Maybe if we got off this platform, I could try to get away from him. “Why aren’t you gagging me and throwing me into the back of a van?”

  He threw his head back and laughed, a hollow, humorless sound. “You are so far off the mark it’s hilarious. And we’re waiting for reinforcements.”

  So that’s what he’d done on his phone. Shit! I might have been able to slip away from Alec in the crowd, but there was no way I could get away from an entire team of trained special agents. My shoulders sagged in defeat, and I wrapped my arms around myself, my nails digging into my sides.

  Itchiness crept up my arms—maybe some of my fidgety energy had nothing to do with adrenaline.

  Just as I’d realized my control of my Light had slipped in my mad escape attempt, the “reinforcements” came barreling down the stairs.

  It was not a Melior Group Special Forces team, as I had imagined. It was Tyler, Josh, and Ethan, all wearing matching looks of concern. Taking two steps at a time, Ethan made it onto the platform first and headed straight for me.

  A cold jolt of fear went straight through my body, and I backed away, arms raised. He stopped in his tracks, the concern on his face replaced with shock.

  “Eve?” He looked so broken and vulnerable. His big shoulders sagged, one muscled arm stretched out to me, his fire tattoo peeking out from his T-shirt sleeve. It made me remember how good it felt to be held in those big arms, and I longed to step into them.

  I scratched at my arms frantically, trying somehow to discern how much of my nervous energy could be attributed to the excess Light coursing through me and how much was due to my instincts.

  Tyler and Josh took a more measured approach. Josh stepped up next to Ethan and placed a hand on his shoulder, watching me warily. Tyler, as usual, took charge of the situation. He moved forward slowly, his arms held up in front of him, as if he were approaching a wild animal. I suppose I might have looked like one, my wide eyes darting between them, still looking for an escape route, while my fingernails raked frenziedly at various parts of my body. The itching was getting worse.

  Alec, true to form, was hanging back and leaning on the railing of the staircase, letting everyone else clean up the mess he’d made. Typical. He was always ready to run away. How dare he? I was supposed to be the one running away today. Dick!

  As Tyler regarded me cautiously, Alec filled them in, his voice dripping mocking amusement. “She was actually trying to run away. She thinks we’re here to kidnap her and stuff her into a—what was it? The back of a van? She thinks we’ve been keeping something from her.”

  “You have been keeping something from her. From all of us!” Ethan
responded, eyes still locked on me.

  I was getting confused. Why were they fighting among one another? It seemed like Ethan was even on my side. But he had been keeping things from me too. Hadn’t he?

  Unaffected by his younger cousin’s reprimand, Alec handed the photo to Josh. The amusement had left his now hard voice. “She found a photo of Joyce with our moms. She’s convinced herself that it’s proof of something shady and underhanded.”

  Josh examined the photo before passing it to Ethan, the looks on their faces indecipherable.

  Tyler, on the other hand, didn’t take his eyes off me, but neither did he try to get closer. “Eve, I can understand how you might have come to some frightening conclusions, considering all that has happened over the last few weeks. But your Light is out of control, and it could get dangerous if you don’t get a handle on it.”

  “Stay away from me!” I was scared he would try to grab me under the pretense of helping me expel the Light. At the same time, I was craving his contact just as much, the Light inside me begging to be released. My hands were now under my tank top, scratching at my belly; I was seriously considering ripping the thin fabric off.

  “I’m not going to do anything until you say so. Neither are the others. Eve. Look at me.”

  I couldn’t help myself; I looked into his face. He wore a neutral expression, but his gray eyes were overflowing with intensity. It was a little mesmerizing.

  “Good. Now, just try to take some deep breaths.” He took an exaggerated inhale, and I mimicked him, both of us exhaling together. Some of my mindfulness practice came back to me, and I focused on calming my breathing.

  “Good.” He was speaking in the gentle, encouraging voice he always used in our tutoring sessions. “That’s good. OK, now, I know you’re scared, so I’m not going to argue with you, but I am going to ask you to consider the facts.” He was appealing to my natural affinity for learning, for logic, for the scientific process. “What are the facts, Eve? What is the observable truth? What is the simplest explanation? Ockham’s Razor, Eve.”