A bright glare of light nearly blinded me. I had been mindlessly twisting the braided band on my finger with my thumb, catching the sun’s rays. I never thought much about it. It was a part of me. I felt protective over it, especially after the way Alexander reacted to it.
Curiosity got the better of me.
I slipped the ring from my finger and looked on the inside of the band for an inscription. Finding none, I moved to slip it back on. The sun hit my finger, highlighting a band of skin, making it glitter, like it was dusted with powdered diamonds. It was permanent, like a tattoo. My ring must have been put in place to hide it. But what did it mean? It was important, special, and sacred. That much I knew. I slid the ring over that spot and let my hands rest on my lap.
Waiting for Jenna, a memory of a box hidden in my apartment came to me. Not sure whether my memories would come and go or come and stay, I had no choice but to leave without notice. Luckily, I lived close by.
The first thing I did once I stepped through the door was ensure the bolt was engaged and all privacy screens were on. I started in my room, with the dresser, pulling each drawer out, searching them inside and out, including the cavity. Then under my bed, in between the mattresses, the frame, and the headboard. The only other feasible place I would hide anything of importance was the closet.
Tucked away on the very top shelf in the back corner, a large stuffed bear with brown fur stared at me. His beady black eyes, silently pleading for me to pick him up and hold him, melted a little spot in my heart. I took him and placed him in the chair in front of my desk. I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at him, waiting for memories involving him to come. After moments of nothing, I cleaned up my destroyed room. Whatever I was looking for had been hidden better than I expected.
I went back to the closet for anything that would grab me as strongly as the bear did. Sunlight shone on the carpet, illuminating a single strand of thread sticking up at the corner. I bent down and pulled on it. The carpet lifted easily, revealing a small, square-shaped door. I pulled on it, holding my breath. Inside laid a box made from rich, dark wood, with an unusual latch. I knew I had hidden it, but I’d never seen a lock like that before. Well, not that I remembered. I removed the box, replaced the floor panel and carpet, then walked to the desk. I moved the bear to the bed, then took a seat and stared at the box.
Rivers of red followed the black grain. A belt of leather, attached by rough metal rivets, encircled and sealed the box with a small, silver square. There were no key holes, knobs, or buttons. Nothing obvious to open it with. It was too beautiful to break open. My heart raced faster, weightless, fluttering lightly.
If I could only remember how to open it . . .
The memory came to me in flashes. Pictures, shown frame by frame, in my mind. The box was set in front of me by a man that stood behind me. I remembered his warmth pressing against my back as I twirled the box in my hands. Then his hand covered mine, slowly moving my thumb with his, rubbing tiny circles over the small, silver square.
“You have to say the magic words to get it open,” his voice whispered softly in my ear.
I snapped to present, the box in my grasp, and my thumb rubbing the lock. “Mea lux, cor mea. Light of my life, my heart.”
The latch released. I hesitated, then set the box on my desk and resituated myself in the chair. After swallowing the lump in my throat that had caused my mouth to go dry, I licked my lips and lifted the lid.
A silver chain lay inside along with other pieces of jewelry. I picked up the chain, holding it in front of me. The charm on it was two silver wings bound together by four stones. A pink stone in the center with three smaller purple stones underneath. I slipped it on and tucked it under my shirt.
I grasped a bracelet on a stretchy string with a number of light and dark stones set in no particular pattern or order. The lighter stones were pinkish with silver and gold flecks. The darker ones looked like the night sky viewed from the middle of an empty field. One polished stone—perfectly round and smooth—with black ribbons hung by a single loop. It stole my breath away. I slipped it on.
I pulled out another bracelet. This one was full of silver angel wing charms with numerous chains and stone beads. Many were quartz. I thought I was going to struggle with getting it on because of the clasp’s design, but I operated the latch as if it were second nature.
There were more pieces of jewelry, but I left them in the box. If I were to take them all out and wear them, I would feel extremely overwhelmed and have to explain their sudden appearance. A few bracelets and a necklace—that couldn’t be seen—wouldn’t make much of a difference. I could easily say that I found them. Or not even answer. Whose business was it, anyway?
I sat back in my chair and stared at the box some more. I had unlocked something in my mind. Although I couldn’t come up with anything solid to follow, it was still something. A small piece to the puzzle. I felt free.
“What time is it?” I asked.
A few beeps responded, followed by a feminine, mechanical voice. “It is forty-two minutes past four o’clock in the evening on Wednesday, October sixteenth, twenty-four fifty-two.”
I stared toward the speaker in the room, discovering another sudden, yet useful thing that sprouted from my memory. I had a date with a bartender, who I hoped would help unlock even more of my mind.
TEN
THE AREA AROUND THE club looked much different in the fading light of day. There was something foreboding and eerie in the air that mixed with the calm and empty appearance of the industrial district.
I knocked on the door. When no one responded, I leaned against the brick building.
What am I going to do now?
Knowing how insistent Alexander was, he would be waiting for me if I went back home. I watched the last of the sunlight shrink behind the buildings, casting darkness on everything. I couldn’t postpone it anymore. Alexander or not, I had to go home. Just as I rounded the corner, I bumped into the bartender from the night before.
“Whoa, there you are. Are you okay?” he asked, gripping my arms firmly.
I pulled away. “I’m fine. I thought you forgot. I was on my way home.”
He smiled. His eyes, slightly familiar, were an incredible violet.
“I figured you wouldn’t remember where to go before hours. I came to find you.” He paused, staring at me in a way that made me uncomfortable. Before I could do or say anything, he said, “Come on, we better get you inside.”
I nodded, following him to a door next to an old fire escape that looked like it would fall on top of us if the wind blew just right. All it did was make a high-pitched grinding noise and clink loudly against the brick.
The door led to a break room resembling a small kitchen. The table had three questionable chairs around it. The cabinetry was massively dated, but it had charm and was cozy.
“Take a seat,” the bartender said as he approached a cabinet. “Do you like coffee?”
“I love coffee. Is there a time when you aren’t waiting on others?”
He turned enough to look directly at me and smiled. “You’re worth the before-hours, complimentary cup of Joe.”
“Thanks . . . I think . . . ”
“So, remembering anything else?” He had his back to me while he worked at brewing a pot of coffee.
“Not really. Why?”
“You’re wearing your jewelry.”
I looked down at my wrist. “Oh, yeah, just some bracelets I found.”
A loud hissing sound emitted from the contraption on the counter, reminding me more of a compact coffee factory than a machine intended to brew the hot beverage. After a couple of steel clanks, the rich aroma filled the air, then I heard the sound of pouring liquid. Before I knew it, one cup was set in front of me.
“Still don’t trust me, huh?” he asked.
“I don’t trust anyone. I don’t even know or remember your name. Whichever the case may be.”
He chuckled softly then said, “Justin. But I
gotta say, I’m hurt you don’t remember me. I always thought of myself as rather unforgettable.”
“You’re vaguely familiar. Beyond that, nope. Nothing.”
“Ouch.” He scrunched his brows, squinted his eyes, and pursed his lips.
“Don’t let that wound your ego. I’m practically a stranger to myself.”
“Interesting . . . ” He seemed to have fallen quietly into his thoughts while I sipped my hot coffee. The bitter liquid burned my tongue. Oh, how I love that taste and feel.
“I was hoping you could help me with some answers . . . since, you seem to know me better than I do right now.” A chuckle escaped through my words.
“Well, I’m not exactly sure I can do that. You see, if you remember everything too quickly, it can throw you into shock. And if it doesn’t jog anything, you could go traipsing that little tail of yours into things you can’t back out of.” He pointed at me like it was something I’ve done before. I hated to admit it, but it did sound like something I would do.
“Is that a no?” I asked, locking his gaze into mine. It was all or nothing. And I wasn’t backing out without something.
“I’ll tell you what I can,” he said.
“Thank you.”
He nodded. “Ask away.”
“Did you go to the Academy?”
“No, why?”
I shrugged. “How do I know you?”
“You enjoyed the club’s atmosphere.” He sat up and pulled on the collar of his shirt. “Even my company and conversation.”
“Not just good with the drinks but suave as well, eh?” I teased.
He opened his mouth, but the screech of a vehicle pulling up next to the door caused him to turn his attention to it. Doors creaked open and thumped shut, then the one to the break room opened. The big, burly, ebony bouncer stormed through. His eyes wide with some inciting emotion. Then he saw me, and they grew even bigger.
“Ghost! What’cha doin’ here, girl?”
Again with that name?
“Sancta demnatio, Taberious,” Justin muttered, leaning back in his chair and pressing the tips of his fingers to his head.
“Putting pieces of the puzzle together,” I answered. The bouncer looked like he wanted to go further but changed his attention back to Justin, whose composure stiffened noticeably.
“Holy hell, indeed,” Taberious said. “We gotta problem. They found another body.”
Justin stood immediately. “Where?”
“Down by old riverside, near the Guardian. This time, they found something that points to us.”
“Us?” I asked.
Justin’s lips pressed firmly together. “Just . . . stay here until I get back. If something happened to you, it would be my ass.”
I raised an eyebrow. “I think I’ll just go home.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Taberious asked.
Justin looked from Taberious to me.
“I’m fine. I’ll be fine. But we will discuss why my safety is your responsibility later,” I said.
I stepped out the door, nearly walking into a black transporter. Moving around it, I stared into the windows. There had to be someone else. More than one door closed before Taberious walked in. Yet, I couldn’t see anyone. Turning my attention in front of me, I continued home.
ELEVEN
AFTER THE DOOR CLOSED on the elevator, I hesitated instead of pushing the button to my floor. I didn’t want to go home. Not when there were more questions to be answered and I was so close to getting them.
The questions encircled my mind until I was dizzy. I rested my head against the cool wall of the elevator.
What the Hell is going on?
My head throbbed, particularly where the cut was. My need for pain relief outweighed my resistance to go home. I pressed the button. As the elevator climbed, exhaustion set in. It would do me good to get some rest. I still needed to go to the Academy and figure out why the football game from five years ago meant anything to me or my past.
All I knew, or understood, was that my dad disowned me when I left for the Academy. That somehow led to me being in the Vanguard. A part of me already knew this; I just didn’t want to accept it. Top it off with some football ticket, strange men with blood on their hands, an overbearing, extremely rich man, and strange woman claiming to be my ‘friends.’
Was my mom right? Did I really want to go down this road? Did I really want to look into that box?
I wasn’t sure anymore. When the elevator doors dinged opened, that fact became more prominent. Down the hall, a man stood at my door. A man I tried very hard to avoid. It was too late to go back downhe’d already seen me.
I stepped out slowly, thinking of a dozen excuses. Then I realized I didn’t owe him one. I turned him down. I refused. He was unnecessarily persistent.
Alexander straightened his suit jacket. “Elsabetha . . . ” he drug out the last syllable as if he tasted my name and liked it. I forced myself to not roll my eyes.
“Mr. Barabbas”
“Alexander.”
I tried to not smile condescendingly, making it as convincing as possible. “I told Jenna I declined your offer. Did she not tell you?”
His dark orbs were as cold as ice. Black discs of nothingness with brown flecks of light. His smile, dripping with enough venom to kill half the city, chilled my skin.
And something happened as he stared at me. Something I didn’t expect.
“What will it take for me to get to know you better?” he purred seductively. His words buzzed through my mind and encircled me in warmth. My heart raced. My body wanted to walk away, but my mind was too curious to let that happen.
“Thought you said we were close?” I asked through the inner, violent, tug-of-war. My words came out even, thankfully.
“I said we were friends and I wanted to be more. You weren’t very receptive to it.”
“I’m still not,” I said, sobered from whatever trance I was under. I stepped around him to my door.
“What will it take to make you ready?” he asked, sounding as if he were on the verge of annoyance or mania.
I sighed heavily. “Time.”
“That’s it?”
I turned, facing him. “You have to ask me yourself and stop throwing your money around, because I’m not impressed with it. In fact, it has the opposite effect. Act like a regular guy instead of who you are. If you can do all of that, then we’ll talk in the future.”
“Then let’s start with a ‘just friends’ game.”
“Game?”
“Football . . . Aeronauts . . . your favorite team. There’s a big game on Saturday.”
I scrunched my eyebrows and leaned against the door frame, crossing my arms over my chest.
“I take it you don’t remember that either.”
“I seem to recall not being a fan.”
“You went to nearly every game. Going could help you remember something.”
“Tell me what you know about the accident first,” I said.
“Which accident?”
“The one no one has record of. Why was it covered up?”
He sighed, leaning on the opposite side of the door jam. “We thought it would be in your best interest if no one knew. Didn’t think you’d want reporters and journalists banging on your door at all hours, questioning why you were the only one to survive the first transporter accident in years.”
I nodded. “I guess that makes sense.” I wasn’t entirely sure I bought his excuse.
“So, will you go to the game with me then?”
I could go. Just as friends. Get some answers. Even though he was expecting more than just friends, it seemed like too much of a coincidence to get a ticket stub from my mom then have him ask me to a game.
But my mom cautioned me from my memories, while he was pushing me toward them.
Why?
“I don’t do box seats,” I said.
“Fine. I’ll give my box tickets to someone else and buy us a couple stadiums.
”
“In the stands?”
“Yes, in the stands.” He added another smile not lacking in threat and warning.
“All right, I’ll go. But, just as a friend. Nothing more.”
“Of course.” A musical jingle emitted from his pocket. He took out his communicator and pressed a button. “Yeah?” A few spans of silence, as he listened to the other side, then he said, “I’ll be right there.”
“Gotta run?” I asked as he slipped his communicator back into his pocket. I tried not to sound too hopeful.
“Sorry. I’ll have someone pick you up Saturday at eleven.”
I held up my hands. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll just meet you there.”
He twisted his lips, as though considering to argue, but must have thought the better of it. “Very well. See you then.”
I watched him walk away until he was halfway down the hall, then I slipped inside and pressed the bolt button. Just because I was willing to unlock my memories didn’t mean I trusted him.
A ding came from the speaker system, followed by the mechanical woman’s voice. “You have one new message waiting. Would you like me to play it?”
“Yes,” I replied.
“Playing . . . ” she said, then my mom’s voice took over.
“Elsabetha, honey, it’s your mom. I want you to come over Saturday for supper. I’ve talked to your dad. He’s willing to be civil. Only dinner, though. We’ll have to take small steps. See you then.”
“End of message,” the mechanical voice said.
Just as I was about to hop into a shower, my doorbell rang. I stopped frozen in place. There was a chill in the air I hadn’t noticed before. Slowly I turned, stepping carefully to the door. I waited for it to open on its own, not really understanding why. The screen didn’t pop up to show me who it was. I reached out a steady finger and pressed the button. It came up revealing an empty hall.
I opened the door and stepped out in time to see the elevator doors closing at the end of the hall. When I turned around, a folded note was taped to the door frame. I pulled it off, stepped inside, and pressed the bolt button.
Flipping open the note, the words I read burned themselves into my mind.
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