He didn’t even crack a smile, just stared at her. Her small chuckle disappeared and she realized that what he was trying to tell her was really serious. “What is it, Xander? You can tell me,” she assured him.
He stared deeply into her eyes and drew a breath, appearing to try and fortify himself. “Fine. So I can astral project, okay?” he said almost defensively. “I’ve been able to do it ever since I was little.” He sat back sullenly, resembling a young child who had just admitted to breaking the living room window, Ashtyn thought.
Saying it aloud, the words sounded ridiculous but there was no other way to explain it.
Ashtyn gaped at him.
“What? Really?” she whispered, and Xander could see that she actually believed him immediately. “How?”
He shrugged but suddenly he felt as if the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders.
Never had he told anyone this secret, the idea that he could take over someone’s body with his own mind seemed too unreal to believe.
“I think it has something to do with the dream I have,” he told her. “I am adopted, but my twin brother Aiden also possesses some abilities that no one would ever believe…”
He trailed off, groping for a way to make it sound realistic.
He cast Ashtyn a sidelong look to see if he was losing her.
“We were adopted as toddlers – barely a year old when we were taken in by the Van Hoyts. Then Sarah was born two years after we arrived.”
“What do you know about your real parents?” Ashtyn asked, her eyes still wide, but Xander shook his head.
“Nothing,” he replied flatly. “We know nothing about any of our family except that our adoptive parents were lousy drunks with quick fists.”
He went silent as Ashtyn waited for him to finish.
“Aiden and I blocked out the abuse in our own way, diverting it when it came our way by overtaking their bodies. I would make my dad pass out or Aiden would distract my mom with something that would make her happy. But Sarah…she had no way of escaping. And if Aiden or I wasn’t around, well…. things were really bad for her.”
Shame flooded him as he realized how much he had failed his sister.
“I should have seen it coming,” he said. “I should have known that she was going to snap one day…”
“You took the blame for what she did,” Ashtyn realized out loud. “You have no reason to feel guilty. Stupid maybe, but not guilty.”
He looked at her sharply.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he demanded, his face flushing with anger.
“Your sister had a perfectly viable defense. She could have proved self defense in the death of your parents – adoptive parents, I mean. There was no reason you needed to take the fall for her.”
Xander gazed at her, shaking his head.
“Sarah has…mental issues,” he muttered. “No jury would have had any compassion for her, especially not when one of her brothers was put on the stand as a witness. An assassin on the stand is not a ringing endorsement.”
“You’ll never know that, will you?” Ashtyn replied quietly. “But I’m the last person who could tell you what to do to protect your family,” she admitted wryly.
He nodded slowly, continuing his earlier explanation of how he knew the Smiths didn’t have Sarah in their custody. “By using my…ability…I’ve been ‘visiting’ the woman called Mrs. Smith to learn what they know. Sarah is not with them. I’m sure of it.”
Ashtyn acknowledged what he said with a nod, surprising herself at how easily she had accepted his claim. There was just something about Xander that made her trust him. True, it was a wild story, but crazier things happened every day. Why not this? “Okay, then. Let’s go find Viola, and then we’ll track down Sarah. Deal?”
“Fine,” he agreed reluctantly. “But we’re leaving if there’s any sign of trouble. “Understand?”
She nodded, although Xander knew that if push came to shove, there’d be a whole lot of pushing and shoving on his part.
“Where are all the guards?” she whispered, echoing his thoughts. “Have they cleared out?”
He could hear the dread in her voice, as if she feared the worst for her sister.
“We won’t know unless we board,” he told her apprehensively. “We can’t tell anything from here.”
They exchanged a glance but neither of them spoke as they stepped onto the dock and proceeded toward the boat, quickly embarking before they were noticed by security.
Xander found his heart pounding for the first time in years and he wondered if that had more to do with Ashtyn than it did the situation.
She’s bringing out something in me I’ve never felt before, he realized, the two sneaking toward the companionway toward the cabins.
Xander’s well-honed sixth sense told him that no danger lurked inside the boat but he could not decide what that meant for Viola. Was that a good sign or a bad one?
She’s not here, he thought, a slightly mournful feeling seizing him as they opened the doors to the compartments.
One after another, they found deserted rooms and Xander could sense Ashtyn’s panic growing as they moved.
“She’s gone,” she whispered desolately as they approached the last door. “If she was ever even here.”
But when his hand touched the handle, Xander felt a spark of hope and concern flutter through him.
“Someone’s in there,” he breathed, his voice barely audible.
Ashtyn froze.
“How do you know?”
But Xander had already begun to project himself into the closed room, his mind melding with the body on the other side of the door.
In seconds, he returned, his face pale as he thrust open the door, grabbing Ashtyn’s hand and dragging her inside.
“Is that your sister?” he demanded, pointing at the unconscious figure, tied to a bedpost. Even as he asked the question, he knew what the answer would be - the resemblance was unmistakable.
“Oh my God!” Ashtyn gasped, rushing to free the limp woman from her bonds. “They left her here to die.”
Xander joined the blonde and together they tried to revive Viola.
“She needs a hospital,” he said, collecting her in his arms. “Her breathing is shallow.”
He could see she had lived through malnutrition and drug abuse – although barely. Track marks showed on her arms from where her handlers had pumped her full of narcotics over the years.
“Come on,” he growled, hurrying toward the hall but as he stepped onto the lower deck, his nose was assaulted by an acidic scent.
“What is that?” Ashtyn asked, wrinkling her nose in disgust, but Xander knew instantly.
“Run!” he shouted, bolting toward the dock, his grip loosening on Viola as he struggled to bring them all to safety.
“Gasoline!” Ashtyn choked, realizing the peril they faced.
Khan’s men had abandoned ship and had doused the vessel with gasoline while they had been searching for Viola. They must be hoping to burn any remaining evidence after finding their boss dead. It was protocol.
The three of them leapt onto the pier in unison, Viola almost slipping from his arms.
As he tightened his hold on her, a loud crack caught his attention, the bow of the yacht erupting in flames. It was at that moment that Xander spotted Khan’s men at the end of one of the branches of the pier. They were armed with guns and had just noticed the three escapees who had leapt from the ship.
“Ashtyn! We need to split up. You run to the end of that leg of the pier, and then make it to the safehouse. I’ll take Viola this way and get her to the hospital,” he ordered, knowing she would argue with him. But it was the only safe way. Xander knew he could draw the attention of the men while Ashtyn made her escape. Then he would enter the water with Viola and swim to the other side of the thugs and exit the water there, hopefully in relative safety. He had been in worse positions before, and as long as he knew that Ashtyn was safe, he would be ab
le to concentrate on getting himself and Viola to safety as well. He saw her start take a breath to begin her rant, but cut her off immediately, knowing time was of the essence. “Now, Ashtyn,” he demanded firmly. “Every second you stall, Viola’s life is even more in jeopardy.”
That small reminder worked where physical force wouldn’t have. He saw the reluctant acceptance in her eyes as she looked yearningly at Viola’s unconscious features.
“Now run!” Xander yelled, physically shoving Ashtyn in the direction he needed her to go as the sound of an explosion rocked the marina.
Ashtyn was just out of range around a corner, but Xander and Viola flew through the air, barely missing being set on fire.
Xander landed with a thud against the hull of a massive schooner, Viola falling out of his grasp and into the water.
“Fuck!”
He quickly unzipped his leather jacket and prepared to dive into the dark, silky expanse, but before he could slip it from his shoulders, he heard the retort of automatic gun fire being sprayed in a long arc all around him. “Dammit, they’re shooting fucking blind,” he muttered, just before a searing burn streaked across his ribs. Bingo. Even blind guys hit the side of a barn eventually, he mused sarcastically. Before considering his actions, he leapt into the cold water, thrashing out in the dark to try to grasp Viola’s sinking form.
She was nowhere in reach and Xander dove below the surface, floundering through the black water.
He could not see a damned thing and his heart hammered wildly, forcing him to go up for air.
“Where the hell is she?” he muttered out loud.
Come on, Viola! Where the hell are you?
The air supply was depleting quickly and he was no closer to finding the drowning girl.
I can’t let her go! He thought wildly, the lack of oxygen beginning to affect his reasoning.
His hands blindly grasped and suddenly his efforts were rewarded when his fingers snagged on a piece of material.
He dragged her close, her body still unresponsive and made his way up.
Gasping and choking for breath, he pulled her away from the dock and out of view.
As he had suspected, emergency vehicles were responding to the explosion and he whipped his head around to look for any sign of the thugs, but he couldn’t find them. His side was burning painfully and he was shivering from either the cold water or blood loss. Or both.
He hoped Ashtyn had heeded his advice and gone back to the safehouse.
Maintaining Viola’s head above water, he dragged her with one arm toward the opposite end of the yacht club, willing himself not to give up as he moved.
Exhaustion swept through him as he pulled her onto a sandy reserve, their bodies still cloaked in near darkness, illuminated only by the moon.
Xander straddled Viola, checking for a pulse.
“Fuck!” he cursed again, realizing that what little life had been left in her may have been lost in the water.
He tilted her head back and pinched her nose, applying mouth-to-mouth as he began chest compressions.
“Come on!” he urged her as she refused to budge. “Don’t die, Viola. Ashtyn has sacrificed everything for you.”
He counted the presses and at thirty, he pushed two more mouthfuls of air back into her lungs.
There was still no response.
He knew there was only so much more he could do before he was forced to give up. They were in too perilous a situation to continue like that.
One more, he told himself grimly, starting the procedure again but this time, when he gave two more breaths, she stirred slightly, water spilling from the corners of her blue mouth.
A relief like nothing he had ever known filled Xander’s bones and he sat back on the sand, his head swimming.
He knew he didn’t have time to collect himself. He had to get Viola to a hospital.
The Place du Parvis de Notre Dame was not far away. He could get her to the Hospital Hotel-Dieu in minutes if he just hurried.
Racing against time, Xander collected her in his arms and ran.
He prayed he was not too late.
___________
He fell through the door of the safehouse, his legs barely able to carry him the distance.
“Xander!” Ashtyn cried, her face wrought with worry. “What happened? I thought I had lost you both!”
The anguish in her face was heartbreaking, as Xander sank to his knees, collapsing onto the floor as she rushed to embrace him, a sob escaping her lips.
“It’s okay,” she murmured. “It’s okay, you did everything you could. Just rest now…”
He didn’t comprehend her words but he was far too tired to argue. She gently guided him to his feet, leading him to the mattress.
That was when he saw the tears streaking down her face.
“Why are you crying?” he mumbled. “Don’t cry.”
His body was failing him, the words jumbled as they fell from his lips.
“Shh,” she whispered, the water still slipping from her eyes. “It’s okay.”
“Don’t cry,” he told her again. “She’s going to be okay.”
He fell backwards onto the bed as Ashtyn gaped at him, frozen in place.
“What?” she whispered. “What did you say?”
“Viola…going to be fine,” he murmured, “She’s at the hospital…safe.” As he finished the last word, he lost his battle with consciousness and everything became black around him.
Even Ashtyn’s hoot of disbelief did not rouse him, as she realized that her sister was finally safe after all those years. She grabbed his chest, shaking him in her excitement. That was when she felt the stickiness clinging to his black clothing. She removed her hand slowly, turning it over to look.
Dread seized her even before she got a glimpse. Somehow she just knew. Of course. Because everything in her life couldn’t possibly be good. Just when she had finally gotten her sister, had she lost Xander…?
She choked back a sob, grabbing his face in both of her hands. She leaned forward over him, her tears spilling down onto his cheeks. “No, no, no! Please don’t let this happen!” she prayed to some deity she didn’t know the name of. She slipped her hand under his shirt and felt the long gash that ran along his upper ribs, under his arm. She was about to start a new round of prayers when she realized someone had been banging on the door for the past several moments.
At that moment, the visitors lost patience with waiting for someone to open the door, and it came crashing inward. Ashtyn stared in silence, her mouth hanging open and tears still falling down her cheeks. The broken door banged against the opposing wall and broke right off it’s hinges, announcing the arrival of two very unwanted guests.
Chapter Fourteen
Creteil, France
“What did I tell you?” the man sneered, pushing his way inside the shack. “He found her and didn’t say a word.”
The dark haired, emotionless woman didn’t say a thing as she followed her counterpart inside.
“Who the hell are you?” Ashtyn demanded, the rollercoaster of euphoria at learning Viola was alive, and desolation at discovering Xander’s injury played havoc with her senses.
“Sweetie,” the man smirked, “You have caused more trouble than you’re worth.” Stepping toward her, he raised a gun, pointing it at her face.
Ashtyn stepped back, her eyes widening.
These are the people who hired Xander to kill me, she realized. But for some reason, she was not filled with fear as she faced down the possibility of her own death.
Perhaps it was the way the woman in the duo seemed completely detached from the scenario, or maybe it was simply that Ashtyn simply couldn’t process another extreme emotion at this moment.
For whatever reason, not a twinge of panic fluttered through her as she watched them with a stoic expression on her face.
The man’s face contorted in surprise as his eyes fell on Xander’s unconscious form.
“Is he asleep?” he asked in
disbelief. “Really?”
“Go ahead and shoot me,” Ashtyn said calmly, trying to distract him from his interest in Xander. “I’ve gotten everything I want.”
The man peered at her curiously.
“Well that is good news. I would hate to see such a beautiful piece of ass die unhappy,” he replied sarcastically.
He raised the pistol, pointing it at her head. Just as his finger tightened on the trigger, the silent brunette whipped a garotte around his unsuspecting neck.
Ashtyn dove to the floor, gaping, as she watched the man’s eyes bug out of his head as he fought against his partner, his fingers clawing at his own throat in desperation. But the action was futile.
The lady wore a completely disinterested expression on her face, as if she was stuck in traffic, while she waited for the life to slip out of his body.
Ashtyn suddenly wondered if Xander had taken over this woman’s mind. Was he the one responsible for making her kill her partner? She whipped her head around to look at her lover, but he was still silent and immobile, unconscious on the bed.
If he’s not in control of her, she’s doing this of her own volition.
It didn’t make any sense to her, but Ashtyn knew she was in no position to question the bizarreness of the situation.
Slowly, the man sank to his knees, the whites of his eyes cracking with lines of red, his lips turning cobalt as his arms dropped to their sides.
Still, the woman did not let go.
Finally, she allowed him to drop, releasing the wire from around his neck and rewrapping it to slip inside her pocket.
Only then did she address Ashtyn. It was clear by the look in her eyes, that the woman was not under anyone’s ‘control’. Her expression was lucid, although stone cold at the same time.
She just killed her own partner. What is she going to do to me?
“Wake him up and get the hell out of Paris,” she instructed. “Every government agency in the world is looking for him. If he’s caught, he’s going back to prison forever.”
Ashtyn could only stare at her, a thousand questions flooding her mind.
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