Between Shadows

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Between Shadows Page 21

by Chanel Cleeton


  Chapter Twenty-eight

  I’ve been here before.

  I close the window behind me gently, staring down at the long hallway in front of me. I don’t know when or why, but somehow I remember this hallway. I hesitate for a beat, memories creeping toward me. The painting on the wall of the old woman looks familiar. The landscape on the opposite wall does, too. And more than my memory, my body seems to be reacting to the hallway on a visceral level. A hum runs though me, a tension beyond the mission I’m on. This hallway means something to me—something from my past.

  I’d bet my life on it.

  I move quickly, darting in and out of the shadows, careful to keep my back against the wall. I pass several doors, their silhouette just barely outlined by the candles flickering on the walls. The place has an old, gothic feel.

  It is not a happy place.

  My body is no longer my own; it’s as if I know exactly where I’m going.

  Oscar thought this floor was the most likely place where Luke would be based on the background of the picture and the lighting, or something like that. He even guessed the room’s location based on how the sun would shine through the window.

  I know I’m in the right place for an entirely different reason.

  I stop in front of the door at the end of the hall, its dark wood ominous and foreboding. Something that feels a lot like dread fills me, my feet rooted to the spot. I’ve definitely been here before, and I know without a doubt that Luke is on the other side of that door. I’ve dreamed about this room more times than I can count, and if I’m going to die tonight it seems like a fitting place for it all to end.

  My hand grips the knob, my fingers about to turn it when I hear the noise behind me. The sound of footsteps, faint at first, becomes heavier. I whirl around. The hallway is empty, save for voices. They must be coming from the other side.

  I slip back into the shadows, into one of the alcoves just off the hall. I pull out the dart gun, careful to not make a sound. I count the steps, fighting the urge to duck my head out and check their progress. Until finally—

  I step out of the alcove. My finger hovers on the trigger. One. Two. They both drop with thuds.

  I move from my spot, stepping over the two bodies. I crouch down low, searching their pockets quickly, my movements perfunctory. They don’t stir. Oscar said the dart should knock them out for an hour at most. I don’t plan on staying nearly that long.

  I grab an earpiece from one of the guards, slipping it into my other ear. All I hear is static.

  Something is off. The fear that this is all a trap hits me again, but I’m in too deep now to turn back.

  I focus on the doorknob, pushing out the lingering thread of fear that slithers through me. I meet no resistance as I turn the knob. I push open the door, my feet stuck to the ground.

  My heart breaks.

  ###

  I barely recognize Luke.

  He’s slumped against a far wall, dried blood covering his face. I rush toward him. At most, I have a few minutes before someone realizes I’ve taken out the guards.

  Luke’s head jerks up. A mix of emotions flashes across his face—relief, anger, fear.

  “You shouldn’t have come.”

  “Don’t talk. We have to get you out of here.”

  Luke shakes his head. “Don’t you get it? This is what they wanted. They knew you would come. They wanted you to come after us. They want you.”

  Didn’t I already know that?

  “Well they can’t have me. Or you.” I pull a knife out of my pocket, slicing at the ties binding his hands and feet. “Where’s Grace?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “They threw black bags over our heads the second they took us.”

  “How many?”

  “What?”

  “How many were there?”

  “Ten.”

  They hadn’t been messing around. Even if I had been there, there’s no way Luke and I could have held off ten trained assassins.

  “Where is Grace?” I fight to keep the rising panic from my voice.

  “I don’t know. We were in the van together. We drove for hours. Definitely out of the city. And then they pulled us out. That was the last time I was with Grace.”

  “She has to be here.”

  I finish cutting Luke loose. He stands, swaying slightly on his feet. My eyes narrow. His gaze is slightly unfocused, his pupils larger than normal.

  “Are you okay?”

  He nods, leaning against the wall for support. “They gave me something to sedate me. It’s almost worn off by now.”

  Our chances of success were limited when it was Luke and me. Now that he’s basically out of commission? This idea is suicide.

  “There’s a helicopter.”

  Luke raises an eyebrow.

  “I called in a few favors. Mainly Oscar. The chopper’s at the edge of the woods. Do you think you can get there?” I grab a knife and gun out of the bag, passing them to Luke. “Oscar is there waiting for you.”

  “I’m not leaving you.”

  “No offense, but you’re not exactly helpful right now. I need to find Grace. The best thing you can do is go to safety. I can’t be worrying about you when I need to be focused on finding my sister.”

  “I’m not leaving you. Even when I’m not at full speed, you know I’m better than most of the assets at the Academy. You need me.”

  “I got this far on my own.” I purposefully don’t mention the continued sense of unease or the fact that I can’t seem to get my feet. This room means something to me. Something I’m afraid to remember and something I can’t seem to forget.

  “Look we can waste time fighting about this, or you can just give in and go with me to get your sister. I’m not leaving you.”

  “Fine. But if you start to feel dizzy or you think you can’t handle it, you have to go to the helicopter to meet Oscar.”

  “Deal.” He motions toward the door. “Let’s get going, then.”

  I stay where I am.

  “X?”

  “There’s something here. I’m not sure what, but I remember being here before. Before I came to the Academy. Do you sense it, too?”

  Luke shakes his head, but I don’t miss the fear in his eyes.

  The question nearly sticks in my throat. “What did they do to you?”

  He shudders slightly, reaching out and wrapping me into the curve of his body. We stay like that for a beat and then Luke releases me. Pain fills his eyes; he doesn’t answer me.

  But somehow I know. I know all the ways they can break you. I understand the fear.

  “Come on. Let’s go.”

  We leave the room together.

  ###

  Something is off. I’m good. Really good. But this has been too easy.

  “Something’s not right,” Luke whispers in my ear.

  “I know.”

  “This place is empty.”

  He’s right. Besides the guards I shot with the dart gun, the house is empty. I turn down another hallway, keeping my body flat against the wall. I peer around the corner.

  “This is a trap,” Luke hisses.

  I grip my gun tighter, raising it slightly. I motion for Luke to be quiet as I step closer toward a doorway.

  My heartbeat kicks up a notch, goose bumps rising over my skin.

  “What’re you doing? We need to get out of here. Now. I don’t think Grace is here.”

  “Give me a second.”

  Some voice inside of me tells me that this is the door I’ve been looking for. I can’t leave until I know what’s behind it.

  I push the door open, wincing as a creaking sound fills the silence of the night.

  My arm drops to my side, the gun dangling from my hand as I stare over the threshold.

  It’s a young girl’s room. The walls are a pale blue color, the bed covered in a soft floral bedspread.

  I know that bedspread.

  I walk into the room
in slow motion, as if pulled in by a tether. Somehow I register Luke behind me, but I can’t hear what he’s saying over the roaring in my ears.

  “X?”

  I shake my head, horror filling me. Behind me Luke gasps, his body nearly colliding with mine as he comes to a standstill in front of the same wall I can’t stop staring at.

  A name is spelled out in brightly colored block letters hanging from the wall. My name—

  Alexandra.

  “We need to get out of here.”

  I ignore Luke, moving closer to the wall, my fingers reaching out to trace the heavy block letters.

  “She made this for me,” I murmur, unable to tear my gaze away. The memory fills me with blinding clarity. “My mother made this for me. I helped her paint these.”

  Luke steps forward, grabbing my shoulders. “Listen to me. We have to get out of here. You’re not safe.”

  I whirl around, facing him. “This was my room. This was my house.”

  “You’re not safe here. Please. We have to go.”

  I don’t feel right here, in this room. Pieces of it jog my memory. I picked out the bedspread with my mom. Grace and I used to play with the tea set in the corner. But still—when I think about my childhood here, I’m left with gaping holes. And an overwhelming sense of fear I can’t name.

  There’s something creepy here, in this room that clearly hasn’t been touched in years—this shrine to a dead girl.

  I want to run. This room, everything in it, makes me dizzy and sick. But I can’t run. My limbs are heavy, clumsy. It’s a fight to even move.

  “We’re leaving,” Luke snaps, grabbing my arm, pulling me toward the doorway. “This has gone on long enough. Grace isn’t here. This was all a trap.”

  I pull away from him, my gaze riveted to the bookshelf across the room. He’s right, of course. I know that now. But I can’t tear my gaze away from the framed picture sitting atop my bookshelf. I walk toward it, horror flooding me.

  I hear Luke calling to me, but I block the words out. One sentence runs through my mind on a constant loop, Malcolm’s voice filling my head—

  I suspect some were born for it.

  I look to be about eight in the picture. I’m sitting on my mother’s lap, my father and Grace next to us. It’s a family photo; we should look happy.

  The reality is anything but.

  Luke was right; I do have my father’s eyes. But he was also wrong. There’s an evil in my father’s eyes that I hope can never be found in mine. And a chill begins to slide in my bones.

  Suddenly, I’m a child again. I can smell the smoke. And the same fear that filled me throughout my childhood—my life as Alexandra—fills me again.

  My mother wasn’t afraid of the fire and she wasn’t afraid of dying. She was afraid of my father. She was afraid for us. Afraid of what he would do to us. Afraid of what he had done to me.

  Luke stands behind me, his body inches from mine. “X, you need to listen to me. I think your father has Grace.”

  Everything stops.

  “My father’s dead.” There’s a tremor in my voice. He has to be.

  Luke grips my shoulders hard, shaking me. “He’s not. I saw him. I remembered him from when I was younger. He’s very much alive. And I think he’s behind all of this.”

  “That’s not possible…” My voice trails off, and for one aching moment, I remember that room. Sitting in the same room where I found Luke. Sitting there with my father.

  I never stood a chance. My training didn’t start when I came to the Academy. It was always there, always a part of me. It started in this house.

  And then I smell the smoke.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  At the first smell of smoke, panic spreads through my body. I can see the fire now just outside the doorway, right outside the room. And I know—

  All along he planned to trap us here. He knew exactly which buttons to push because he created the fear that lives inside me. All along he wanted us to die.

  “Shit,” Luke exclaims. “Don’t do this to me. You have to snap out of it. If we don’t get out of this room, we’re going to die. Do you understand me?”

  I nod woodenly, my body paralyzed by fear. I want to be strong. I know I have to be strong—for myself, for Luke, for Grace. But it’s like he’s here in the room with me, like my father is still pulling all of the strings—controlling me with fear. I don’t know how to escape.

  Luke grabs the desk chair, throwing it toward the window. It makes a loud thud against the pane, but the glass doesn’t crack.

  “I could use a little bit of help here,” Luke shouts.

  But I can’t.

  I want to help him. I want to escape. I want to run. Instead I drop to the floor, pulling my knees against my chest, and begin to rock. The flames are getting closer, the smoke building around me. I’m in my own world now, haunted by the memories flooding me.

  I remember everything.

  I was young when he started bringing me into that room. So young. In the beginning, I thought it was a game. In the beginning, I liked it. He gave me candy, a doll, so many little gifts every single time I was good or clever. Every single time I performed the way they wanted me to, like the lab rat that I was. I was too young to understand what the games really measured: the tests to my cognitive functions, all of those attempts to shape me into the asset I am today. With each new test the stakes became higher, the challenges darker, more terrifying, until the real experiments started and everything went black.

  Luke kneels down in front of me, the pain in his eyes nearly making my heart break. “We have to go.” His voice is firm, but gentle.

  “I’m not allowed to leave the room,” I whisper.

  Luke blinks.

  “He hurts her if I leave the room. If I don’t do exactly what he says—”

  “Grace?” Luke asks.

  I shake my head, my voice a broken sob. “Mama. He hurts her if I disobey him.”

  Luke grips my hand, squeezing tightly. “He can’t hurt her anymore. She’s somewhere better now.”

  I think of what Father Murphy told me. I think of heaven. I hope he’s right and it really does exist. I hope she’s there right now. I hope she escaped him. If there really is such a thing as good and evil, my father is the devil.

  “We have to go.”

  “I can’t.”

  Luke pulls me to my feet, wrapping his arm around my body, pulling me against him.

  “Do you trust me?”

  I’m so afraid. I’m small and helpless again, as if all the years of training and missions have evaporated. This room makes me feel like a child, and he always wins.

  “I need you to jump.”

  I look up. Luke’s gotten the window open now. Shards of glass border the edges.

  “I can’t.”

  And then he’s kissing me. It’s desperate, and all-consuming, and for a moment I forget the ugliness and death that has surrounded me my entire life.

  “I love you,” Luke whispers against my mouth. “I need you. Grace needs you. Don’t let him win. I need you to jump.”

  And so I jump.

  ###

  The moment I hit the ground, pain shoots through my shoulder. I roll to my side, grabbing my arm, struggling to stand. Luke lands behind me.

  He gets up slowly, wincing in pain.

  “Are you okay?” he asks.

  I nod. “You?”

  “Yeah. How far away is the chopper?”

  I jerk my head toward the woods, my voice shaky. “Two miles. You still there?” I speak into the mic.

  “I’m here. Do you have them?” Oscar asks.

  “I have Luke. My sister is gone.” My voice cracks. “They still have her.”

  There’s silence on the other end of the line.

  “Are you guys coming to me?”

  My gaze drifts to Luke. He’s hunched over slightly, his face a mask of pain. I know just how much damage my father can inflict in that room. There’s no sign of any of the g
uards, no sign of activity anywhere. If my father was here, he’s long gone now. And he took Grace with him.

  “We need you to come get us. It should be clear. It was a setup.”

  “How can I find you?” Oscar yells into my ear.

  I turn toward the house. The flames have grown now, spreading against the exterior walls. This is no accident. This is an all-out blaze, an attempt to destroy.

  “Look for the fire.”

  Luke moves closer, wrapping his arm around my body. His weight sags against me.

  “I’ll kill him,” I vow.

  Luke’s eyes flash. “Not if I get there first.”

  “Was he alone?”

  “My mother was there.”

  I should have known the Director would be involved.

  “Were they the ones chasing us the night in London?”

  “I don’t know,” he answers. “I think there’s more out there, more than just Ares, other organizations in play. We were a way into Ares, to hit at the Academy. I think this is bigger than anything we ever imagined.” He takes a deep breath. “They mentioned an experiment.”

  “Project X?”

  He blinks in surprise. “Yeah, where did you hear about it?”

  “Oscar found it in our files.”

  It was never about Grace. It was always about me. And Luke. And the one thing that binds us—

  Project X.

  I know now that the titles of “mother” and “father” that we have given our parents are meaningless. I like to think that my mother really loved us—I have to, considering how she gave her life to save Grace and me. But my father? Luke’s mother? To them we are nothing more than experiments—assets, expendable tools. We are not their children. Not in any meaningful sense of the world.

  We are unnatural creatures, created by power, greed, and hate. And now the monster from my nightmares has my sister.

  Fury fills my throat, choking me with rage.

  “We’ll get her back, X.”

  “I know.”

  “He won’t kill her.”

  No, he won’t kill her. But he will try to break her. Just like he tried to break me.

  Overhead, the sound of chopper blades fills the night sky.

  “There’s our ride.”

  Oscar lowers the helicopter down toward us. It hovers over the ground.

 

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