by Dani Hart
“Dad?” I was disoriented, but memories of the accident quickly flooded me. “Where’s Wes? Is he okay?” I tried to sit up, but I was met with an agonizing pain in my stomach. My dad pushed my shoulders back down onto the bed.
“You can’t move, Peanut. You need to rest and give your body time to heal.”
He was skating around my question. “Dad, is Wes okay?”
He brushed my hair back and smiled. “He’s just fine, Peanut. Now, rest.”
My mom appeared around the curtain, holding clothes in her hand and my red Chucks on top. They still looked new, surviving the accident unscathed, unlike myself.
I tossed the duffel over my shoulder and followed Elijah and my dad through the deserted parking garage, our footsteps echoing loudly off the cold concrete walls. It felt like a mausoleum in here with the air still damp from the most recent rain. The airport was just as deserted as the garage and painfully bright. Exhaustion was setting in, and I could barely walk. We didn’t have bags to check, so we went straight through security to our gate, choosing three seats along the window. My dad sat in the middle, creating much needed space between Elijah and me.
We still had thirty minutes before boarding, but I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer, so I curled over three empty seats close by and closed my eyes. They started whispering immediately, but I was within earshot.
“How do you think this is going to go?” Elijah’s voice was full of concern.
“The only way it can go. She’ll pledge her allegiance to The Order, then she’ll join the training facility.” Sorrow overwhelmed my dad’s words.
“It’ll be a long time before you see her again,” Elijah reminded him.
“I know, but she’s determined. Nothing is going to stop her from finding her brother. And at least there, I know she’ll be safe.”
I felt the connected seats shift. Peeking an eye open, I watched as my dad walked to the window overlooking the sea of parked planes, staring out the glass.
I slid off my makeshift cot and stretched. “I’m going to use the bathroom. I’ll be right back.” Elijah stood up abruptly, and I looked at him strangely. “I can find my own way. I’m a big girl.”
“I was just going to tell you it’s around the corner,” he retorted.
“Oh,” I replied, somewhat embarrassed. “Great. I’ll be back.”
My dad glanced over his shoulder in acknowledgement and then turned back to the window.
In all my seventeen years, I had never been in an airport. I had always imagined crowds of people, screaming children, and business people working busily on their laptops. What I didn’t expect was a deserted wing and the only sign of life being the janitor dumping out the trashcans. It definitely took the magic out of my daydreams.
All the stall doors were unoccupied. I didn’t really have to use the bathroom. I just needed a moment to myself. I stood at one of the many sinks that lined the wall, staring at my reflection, but not really looking. Instead, I was seeing the future in my terrified eyes. The shadows under my eyes that weren’t there last week were defined, and my chestnut locks were in desperate need of a brush.
A click of a stall door startled me. I had thought the bathroom was empty. I leaned over the sink and rinsed the sleep from my face. When I looked up, Penelope was standing behind me.
“Hello again.” A dark smile crossed her face, and her eyes became as cold as ice.
Her hand covered my mouth before I could scream, and my lungs burned like fire. I choked violently for breaths and fought against her hold, but my muscles were weakening and I was beginning to feel dizzy.
“Shh, my friend,” Penelope’s voice whispered as she caressed the top of my head.
THERE WERE MOMENTS in between sleep and wake and dreams and reality when things didn’t seem quite right. That was where I was. Lost in the confusion, wondering where I was and what had happened. Opening my eyes was similar to struggling against the harsh ocean current. I knew I was alive, or at least I thought I was, but I was paralyzed. My mind had rebooted before anything else, and it was horrifying. The pungent smell that had brought me into my deep slumber still lingered on my clothes, or maybe it was just embedded in my brain. Either way, it still surrounded me.
“Your eyelids do this weird twitchy thing when you’re asleep. I hope it was a pleasant dream.”
Penelope’s wretched voice violated my ears. I wanted so badly to spit on her, but I couldn’t move.
“Don’t bother. The poison is still running its course through your veins, but don’t fret, my friend, you’ll walk again.” She cackled to herself.
I was finally able to pry open my eyes. My vision was blurry, but I could see Penelope standing next to me.
“Oh goody, you can see me now.” She leaned over my face and smiled. “You look positively frightened. I’m not going to hurt you, Abigail Rose. I need you alive.”
Her smirk incited a thousand questions.
“I’ll be back in a bit. You should be back to normal by then. And don’t try to run. I’m faster.”
The door closed, and deafening silence filled the room. As the poison dissipated, it was replaced with itchy tingles all over my skin. Sitting up was somewhat difficult, but not impossible. Looking around, it appeared as though I was in a guest bedroom in a house. The room was plain with factory white walls, a dresser, and gray sheets. I knew it was stupid to think the door would be unlocked or unguarded, but I had to try. I jiggled the knob and was surprised it wasn’t locked, but as suspected, Penelope was waiting in view, sitting on a couch. It was a small apartment or townhouse from the looks of it.
“I could have climbed out the window.” I was still unstable on my feet, using the wall for balance.
“And fall to your death. We are three stories up.” She kicked her leg up and down that was crossed casually over the other.
“Fine. Whatever. Why am I here?” I fell onto a chair next to the couch, surveying my surroundings for an escape. There were a few windows on the exterior walls and a slider leading to a balcony. I discerned we were in a corner unit, and since there weren’t any stairs I deduced we were in some sort of apartment complex, which meant thin walls. I could scream and hope to garner our neighbor’s attention.
“Like what you see? Let me help with your future failed escape plan. No one lives next door or below, and there are no ways to climb down the balcony.” Her smile was smug.
“You thought of everything.” I smirked back.
“It’s nothing personal. Well, it is. You just got stuck in the middle.” She stood up and walked to the kitchen. “Water?”
My throat was so dry I could drink a lake. “Please.”
She filled a glass and handed it to me, and I chugged it down quickly. “Thanks,” I said, wiping my mouth.
“When I found out about the existence of The Order, I was more than willing to sign up.”
She lounged back on the couch.
“How old are you?” While I was scared out of my mind, I wanted to find out as much information about her as possible.
“Twenty-three.”
“How did you find out about The Order? I thought it was a big secret?”
“My brother was turned by an immortal.” Disgust dripped from her words.
“I’m sorry.”
“So am I.”
“Where is he now?”
“Dead,” she said matter-of-factly. “Forever dead. Not undead dead.”
Somehow I didn’t think offering my condolences was going to make an impact. “I don’t know what I would do if I lost someone I cared for.”
“Yeah, well, the pain never ceases.” She took out a dagger from her waistband and started carving into the coffee table.
“Is this your place?”
“It was my brother’s.”
I guess that explained the monochromatic simplicity and lack of personal touches.
“Where are your parents?”
“You ask a lot of questions.” She was still busily carving.
&
nbsp; “Not much else to do.” Had I not known Penelope before her taking me against my will, I probably would have refrained from talking.
After a few silent moments, she stood up and walked to the balcony slider. Glancing at the front door, I noticed several deadbolts but also a reverse doorknob, so you needed a key to open it. I wondered if her brother had done that or if she did when she planned my kidnapping.
“Can I use the bathroom?”
“You don’t have to ask,” she snapped without turning to me.
When I got up, I got a good look at the carving. It was an infinity sign. The same as the charm and key still tucked in my pocket. It couldn’t be a coincidence. The symbol meant something. When I got back from the bathroom, Penelope was back on the couch, staring at her carving in a daze.
“What does that mean?” I asked carefully.
“You’ve never seen an infinity sign?” She scoffed.
“I know what it is, but it must mean something more to you if you’re carving it into a perfectly good table.”
She jammed the point of the dagger into the table, causing me to jump. “It’s the mark of immortality.”
She removed the dagger and went to the other bedroom, slamming the door. She was obviously certain that escape was impossible. I leaned down and traced the carving. How was the old lady who gave me the charm connected to all of this? Maybe she was an immortal, but that didn’t explain her giving it to me. How would she know I was connected to The Order and immortals?
I watched the closed bedroom door for a good five minutes before tiptoeing into the kitchen, opening the drawers quietly, hoping to find a sharp object. She might be stronger than me, but the element of surprise was even more dangerous. After all, everybody thought I was fragile, so no one would expect the scrawny seventeen year old to brand a weapon and fight back.
“You won’t find anything in there.” I looked up, taken by complete surprise. “I cleared the apartment after he died.” She leaned on the hallway threshold without a care in the world that I was looking for something to kill her with. Either she was grossly underestimating my will to live or blindly overconfident.
“What was he like?” If I was going to get out of this alive, I needed to switch gears.
“Irreplaceable.” She looked to the floor. “After our parents were killed in a house fire, we were sent into the foster care system. I was nine, and he was thirteen. They kept us together because we were siblings. He looked after me because our caretakers weren’t exactly parental material. When he turned eighteen, he got a construction job and officially adopted me. Six months later, he disappeared for a few days. He came back immortal, barely holding it together. He left to protect me and said he would be back for me when he could control his rage. He never came back.”
“How do you know he’s dead and not just out there still trying to control himself?” I wondered if she knew about the True Mate craze.
“A few years ago, I tracked his whereabouts. We made a lot of unique friends in foster care, and they helped me. My brother protected all the younger kids and was loved by everyone. He didn’t deserve what he got. Anyway, I was led to The Order. They told me he was dead and took pity on me, or should I say, took advantage of me. When they discovered I had a special gift, they sent me to their training facility and promised me the world. I was a beggar before I found them, so they fed on my poverty, giving me a place to live, food to eat. I even made friends at the facility. At first, it all seemed too good to be true, but it grew on me.”
Knowing someone as crazy as Penelope had a gift rose the hairs on the back of my neck. I wondered what it was. “Then why betray them? It sounds like they were pretty good to you.”
“They made a lot of promises they didn’t keep. Assigning me to you, a fragile high school student was the last straw. Then I saw my brother’s maker in Sandpoint.”
The world stood still for a blinding moment.
“I found a picture of Zander’s maker stuffed between the mattress and box spring in his bedroom. I didn’t know what it meant or who he was, but the first night I got to Sandpoint, I saw the same person in that photograph at the beach. He was swimming in the lake. It was foggy, though, so I went to get a closer look, and that’s when I saw the mark. That’s when I knew. It was a Hunter.”
“But you can’t be sure. You’re only speculating.” I wondered which one she thought it was.
“Oh, I’m sure.” Her anger was increasing.
I crossed my arms, frustrated. “Why did you choose me to be your revenge pawn? What do I have to do with all this?”
“The immortals you call friends are responsible for turning my brother, and The Order is responsible for killing him. Enough reason for you?” Her stare could kill, and her words cut me deep. She was out for blood, and I was now certain my days were numbered.
I retreated to my bedroom of captivity. It was hard to imagine one of the Hunters turning someone. It was forbidden and would cost them their life if The Order found out. I refused to believe it. Zander must have provoked the Hunters. There was no way they would risk their lives to change him. Either way, it didn’t change my circumstances. Penelope was distraught, and she would stop at nothing to avenge her brother’s death.
I lay back on the bed, my body confused by the short intervals of rejuvenation. One minute I was wide-awake and the next I could fall asleep walking. If I had any sort of a fighting chance, I needed to rest. I needed to plot. I just needed to get out of here.
THE BEDROOM DOOR slammed open, the abrupt interruption jogging me from sleep.
“Rise and shine.” Penelope cackled. “It’s time to see your boyfriends.” Her lips curved condescendingly.
I rubbed my face, still acclimating to being awakened suddenly.
“I’d apologize for scaring you, but I’m not.”
She grabbed my arm forcefully and pulled me up. Her mood had darkened, my fear of her officially growing. She pulled me into the living area, grabbed her dagger, and continued pulling me out of the apartment. The position of the sun told me it was probably around nine in the morning, and by the looks of the scenery, we were still somewhere around the lake. It made sense that Zander would live near Sandpoint. The Hunters moved here nine years ago, which would be around the same time Zander was turned, but it was still unbelievable that one of them would do that. Wes had described the transition from human to immortal, and it sounded awful for both involved. There was more to the story, and if I could figure it out, then maybe Penelope would stop all this.
“Get in,” she snapped.
She drove a newer model Mazda Miata. I slid in and got my leg out of the way just before she slammed the door closed. She revved the engine and swung out of the apartment complex. Daring a glance over, I could see her jaw clenching. I needed to get her talking again.
“Fancy car.” I smoothed my hand along the pristine dashboard, pretending to admire it.
“I have friends, too,” she answered smartly.
I shuddered to think what friends she kept. Working at the bistro would definitely not pay for this. Of course, now I knew that was just a ruse so she could keep tabs on us.
“Where are we going?”
“To a remote location for a little family reunion.” She chuckled lowly, sending chills down my spine.
Her dagger was within reach, tucked into her belt, but judging from the other night when she tried to grab me before Elijah showed up, she was fast. I wondered if speed was her gift.
“What’s your gift?” she asked me abruptly, as if reading my thoughts.
“What makes you think I have one?”
She picked up speed on the freeway. Traffic was light in between rush hours, but there were still enough cars on the road to alert how fast we were going.
“Don’t play games with me. The Order doesn’t want just anybody. I’ve only ever brought back Specials.”
I sank in my seat, not exactly sure how much I should tell her. I didn’t want to tell her anything, but she
was angry, and who knew what she would do if I pushed her too far?
“It’s stupid.” I tried to blow it off.
“No gift is worthless.”
I chewed on my finger nervously. “I have good instincts.”
“That’s a pretty impressive gift,” she admired.
“How so?”
“Instincts are primal. Ancestral. Ingrained in your DNA. Most people are too self-centered to connect with their instincts, and those that aren’t usually ignore them because they are selfish. But if someone were able to harness their instincts—to become one with their true nature and tap into their ancestry—their power is limitless. You’re not just a Special, Abigail. You’re a Chosen, which makes you invaluable.”
My stomach turned. I had just given her more ammunition. How could I be such an idiot? So much for great instincts. “What’s the difference?” I pressed for more information. She was the first person to go into detail.
“A huge difference. There can only be one Chosen at a time. When one dies, another one is born. It’s mystical. It lies dormant in the Chosen until it’s time.”
“Time for what? I’m not going to become Buffy, am I?” I joked, but I was also terrified.
“Did you tell your immortal boyfriend about your gift?” She looked over, smirking proudly.
“No,” I admitted apprehensively.
“It’s best you don’t. For your sake, anyway.”
My stomach was knotting tighter and tighter with each second that passed. If I were a Chosen, then why wouldn’t my dad tell me? Or even Elijah? And I guess the more important question was, how did being a Chosen change my fate with Wes? I leaned into the window, craving privacy as the suffocating space closed in on me. “Why would you tell me about being a Chosen?”
“Why not? It in no way affects me or changes the predicament you’re in. Plus, you haven’t been trained, and you have no idea how to wield your power yet. You’re just a fragile human girl. But I have to admit. I’m a little jealous.”
I turned to her, shocked. How could someone so deadly be jealous of me? “But you move so fast, and Elijah was even afraid of you.”