by Cacey Hopper
He points to the second photo. “Because that is the Queen’s royal cipher engraved into the back, it has to be the original. The necklace was stolen years ago and has been missing ever since.” He looks at me suspiciously for a moment. “You don’t happen to have it do you?”
“No, of course not.” I shake my head. I don’t trust anyone enough to admit to that. My mind goes back to what he had said about my mom. “What did you mean, when you asked me if my dad was the one who told me about my mom leaving? Why would he have any reason to have lied to me about her?”
The look he gives me is one of pity and my heart sinks. “Next time you see him, ask him for yourself. And make sure you ask him about Halcyon.”
Halcyon.
The word is nowhere in my memory. And I don’t like what he’s implying about my parents. From the way he spoke I don’t know them at all.
I’m about to ask more questions when someone slides into the seat beside me. Something cold and hard presses into my ribs. I don’t even have to look at the person sitting beside me to know it is one of the Things. My eyes meet Peter’s across the table, he’s wary, but calm so I try to emulate him. Next to him is the other Thing, presumably pressing a gun to his side as well.
The one next to me, Thing Two, picks up my phone and shows the photos to his brother. They grin at one another. The look is eerily familiar to me. Then I remember it’s the same look they exchanged at the airport when they discovered who I was.
Gripping my arm tightly Thing Two begins to slide from the table. “Come,” he hisses in my ear, “we will take you to your boyfriend.”
I start to open my mouth to protest or scream, but the look of warning on Peter’s face stops me cold. They lead us both out of the café. For some reason I expect someone to notice we’re being marched out by gunpoint. But the goons keep their weapons well-hidden and the few other people in the restaurant fail to notice our dramatic departure.
Once out in the street Thing One begins to lead Peter away while Thing Two pushes me toward a nondescript black sedan, the same one I’d seen parked across the street from Jason’s apartment earlier. As Thing Two shoves me into the backseat I twist around, trying to see where his brother is taking Peter, but he holds me tightly. Everything in me is telling me to scream, kick or punch. Do something to keep him from taking me away like this. But the gun against my back forces me to stay quiet and still.
He shoves me into the backseat of the car and even after the doors are closed my ears are straining for a sound. I find myself praying I don’t hear a gunshot echo out of the alley. All is silent. Moments later Thing One returns, nods silently to his brother and starts the engine of the car. What he did with Peter, I have no idea, but it can’t be good. It’s all I can do not to collapse in the back seat as we drive off.
10. JASON
I’m not sure where the day has gone, but the sunlight is fading quickly as the black car speeds along the London streets. I try to think of something—anything I can do to change my current situation. But there’s little I can do while being held hostage by two gun-toting thugs. In fact, it’s all I can do to just keep breathing at the moment.
For once I’m trying not to think of Jason, because I can’t question his safety right now. Not when I know just how dangerous these two can be. And not after seeing them haul Peter off like that.
Peter. I don’t want to think about him either. He had done nothing but help me over the past week and in return I had placed him in grave danger. Clearly the Things hadn’t been interested in him, otherwise they would have taken him too. Still, I know they had to have done something with him to ensure he wouldn’t come after us. What that was I can’t imagine.
My stomach churns uncomfortably as the car lurches around a corner too quickly. I hazard a glance out the window and see we’ve descended into an underground parking garage. Thing One pulls the car to a screeching halt next to an elevator. His brother hauls me out of my seat and into the elevator before anyone has a chance of spotting us. He slides a keycard into a slot and presses the button that reads “PH”. The elevator begins to ascend to the top floor, some thirty stories up.
Now that we’re on their turf, Thing Two holsters his gun, though his iron grip on my arm doesn’t relax. When we exit the elevator it’s clear to me we’re inside a hotel. There also appears to be more than one penthouse suite on the top floor of this hotel. Marching down the hall, Thing One in front, Thing Two holding me tightly, I count four doors, two on each side. I make a mental note that we’re not alone on the top floor; a loud scream might be enough to alert any of our neighbors. I open my mouth and just as I do Thing One turns and silences me by raising his hand as if to hit me. I bite my tongue, fear silencing my screams in my throat.
The next moment I’m being shoved into the penthouse’s formal living area. It’s empty, but I can hear a voice speaking through an open door to my left. It’s a one-sided conversation, so I assume the person is on the phone.
Thing Two calls out to him and the voice from the room answers.
“You have the girl? Good. Take her in with the boy.”
Immediately I recognize his voice as it sends shivers down my spine. It’s the same strange, gravelly voice I heard a week ago at the Barrons’ party.
Mr. V.
I crane my neck to try and get a good look at the man who is behind all this, but Thing Two jerks me away. He opens another door and pushes me inside the pitch black room. The only light in the room is coming from the fading sun through a part in the curtains across the room. After a second my eyes adjust and I can barely make out a body slumped in a chair: Jason. I want to scream his name and run to him. My heart, which has been beating a dangerous pace ever since the Things got a hold of me, slows to nearly a stop.
Thing Two lets go of me for the first time and pulls over another chair. He places it back to back with the other one and pushes me into it. The figure in the chair still hasn’t moved or made a sound. There’s a loud ripping sound as Thing Two pulls of a giant strip of duct tape. After he wrenches my hands behind my back he tapes them securely around the back of the chair. It’s uncomfortable with both my arms twisted at odd angles. But the tears that spring suddenly to my eyes aren’t from physical pain.
Finally he leaves the room and I hear a lock sliding into place. I can’t wait much longer as I hiss, “Jase, Jase!”
A few breathless moments later I hear him move behind me.
“Kit?” he groans. There’s another rustle of movement and I feel something brush my fingers. His hand closes on mine and squeezes tightly.
I have to force back my tears to speak. “Are you okay?”
“Well,” he says slowly, his voice hoarse. “I could really go for a burger right about now. Oh and I’ve got a terrible crick in my neck from sleeping in this chair.”
I try to laugh, but all that comes out is a strangled sob.
“How did you get here?” he asks.
“The Things finally caught me,” I say.
“Things?” he asks. “Oh, the brothers, Karl and Kurt.” He laughs quietly.
“I’ve been here since Sunday, following all your clues.”
I hear him move again, as though he’s sat bolt upright.
“I’m sorry I let them catch me, that wasn’t part of the plan,” I start to say.
He cuts me off. “No, you did perfect.” He lowers his voice to an even quieter whisper, “Did you find it?”
“Yes,” I hiss back.
There’s so much more I want to say but I’m cut off as the door suddenly swings open and the lights flash on. I’m blinded for a full ten seconds and when I can finally open my eyes again I’m rewarded with my very first glimpse of Mr. V.
He’s shorter than I expected, and he looks especially small with the two Things standing on either side of him like ugly bookends. He’s nearly bald, with a short, dark goatee. His eyes are dark and tiny, like two black beads staring from under heavy black brows. On his lips is the twisted grin of s
omeone who has done worse things in his life than kidnap two teenagers.
“Well, well, well,” he says as he strides towards me. “You’ve given us quite a bit of trouble these past few days.” He reaches out and touches my cheek. I jerk my head back as much as possible, but it’s not enough. His icy touch makes me shiver with distaste.
“Your friend hasn’t exactly been helpful either.” He nods in Jason’s direction. “But we’ve made him pay for that, haven’t we boys?
Thing One and Thing Two smirk at one another and my stomach churns uncomfortably.
“Now,” V says as he clasps his hands together in front of him. “I believe you have something of mine.”
“It’s not yours, V!” Jason shouts from behind me. Thing One lunges forward and the crack of the blow echoes across the room. I bite my lip hard to keep from screaming.
“Of course it’s not. I wouldn’t be a very good thief if I was only interested in things that belonged to me.” V smirks, then nods to Thing Two. “Search her bag.”
“Really?” Jason calls out again. “You think she has it with her? You really think she’s that stupid?”
I flinch, partly at Jason’s words and partly because I know he’s going to get hit again if he keeps it up.
Thing Two takes my backpack, which had been tossed aside when he tied me up, and dumps the contents onto the floor. Spotting the small black bag he holds it up to his boss and smiles.
“It would seem that she is,” V says. He weighs the bag in his hand for a moment and then places it in his pocket. “Thank you very much, my dear.” V bows in my direction. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have an important phone call to make.”
He leaves, the Things trailing behind, and the lights click off. Once again we’re plunged into darkness. The click of the lock sounds even louder than before.
“Jase, I—” I start to say, but he cuts me off.
“Don’t worry about it, Kit.”
“But—” I try again.
“Listen to me!” His fingers squeeze mine tightly. “They got what they wanted from us. They don’t need us anymore.”
I feel like I’ve gone as cold as ice inside ever since V touched me. Jason’s words aren’t helping either.
“We’ve got to get out of here,” he says firmly.
I know without a doubt he’s right. We’ve just become a liability. Lately I have gotten pretty good at thinking on my feet, coming up with solutions even when the situation seems impossible. Right now our biggest obstacle is our bindings. If we could just get free of the tape that holds us the chairs, we would at least have a small chance of escape.
“Your keys!” I exclaim. “They’re still in my pocket.”
“The pocketknife,” he says immediately.
“Can you reach it?” My arms are both twisted awkwardly around the back of the chair. There is no way I can reach far enough.
His arms are longer, and after a few moments he’s able to extract the keys from my pocket. Seconds later he’s sawing painstakingly through the duct tape around my wrists. It takes a while and every second that passes seems longer than the last. We don’t have much time, ten minutes at the most, until V discovers what is really in the black bag.
My hands snap free and I’m unable to finish my thought. I snatch the knife away from Jason and begin the work of cutting his hands loose. He pulls them free with a quiet sigh of satisfaction.
“My feet,” he reminds me. The Things hadn’t had time to tape mine together, thankfully.
I drop to my knees in front of him as he stretches his arms above his head. The tape around his ankles is thick and it takes me a while to cut through it all. For a brief second I glance up at him and I can just barely see his eyes glinting in the darkness.
“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” he says finally.
“Yeah, I know.” Suddenly I’m glad it’s so dark, because I feel my face flush. His feet are now free so I spring up. “Now what?”
He doesn’t answer. Instead he reaches for me and pulls me swiftly into his arms; lifting me up off the floor he kisses me. I can’t breathe for a moment as I wrap my arms around his neck, and for the first time I feel a wash of relief that he’s really okay. We’re together at last and we are getting out of this.
The moment doesn’t last long. He lets me down gently and scoops up my backpack. Holding a finger to his lips he strides over to the curtains. I realize for the first time they aren’t hiding a window, but a sliding glass door. He opens it quickly, glancing over his shoulder to make sure I’m following. I can see him a little better now in the dusky light, his wavy brown is hair falling over his forehead, and he’s grinning like only he would in a moment like this.
“Oh no,” I protest, feeling an immediate sense of trepidation.
“Oh yes,” he whispers, nodding toward the balcony.
Quietly we step outside. The night is windy and damp and a slight drizzle falls onto our faces. The balcony is large, stretching across the side of the building. There are two more sets of doors leading from the other rooms of the suite. We creep slowly to the first set. The curtains are pulled across the doors, but through a crack we can just barely spot Thing One and Thing Two sprawled out on the sofa devouring a pizza. We slip past the first set of doors unnoticed. When we reach the second set we can see nothing behind the heavy drapes, but through the glass we suddenly hear the angry roar of Mr. V.
“Uh oh,” I whisper. I have a feeling I know what he’s so angry about.
This seems to spur Jason into action. He grabs my hand and pulls me away. We fly past the second set of doors. But now we’ve come to a dead end. Or in this case the end of the balcony. There is nowhere else to run. Across from us I can see another balcony similar to the one we are on, presumably belonging to the suite next door. Before I can utter a word of protest Jason is letting go of my hand and clambering onto the railing. He pauses for a fraction of a second before he launches himself across the three foot gap and lands neatly on the other balcony. He turns back to me, arms outstretched.
I can see it on his face; he’s realized a second too late he’s forgotten my fear of heights. His eyes lock with mine and he nods encouragingly. I glance over my shoulder at the doors behind me, knowing they could burst open at any moment. I take a deep breath and climb carefully onto the stone rail. It’s slick and the last thing I should do is take my time or look down.
Inevitably, I do both.
There is a single breathless second when I think I’m going to pass out or fall. Instead I look up at Jason and take the leap. At the exact moment when I think I’m not going to make it, I feel his hands grasp my forearms tight. Feet scrambling, I let him pull me up and over the edge. We collapse in an unceremonious heap on the ground. I allow myself a few brief seconds to catch my breath. I can feel his arms tight around me, his heart thundering in my ear, and for a moment I let myself feel the thrill of being alive and safe.
The moment doesn’t last long as he quickly stands up and hauls me to my feet. I’m just about to ask him what we should do next when he starts tapping frantically on the glass door of the suite next-door to the one we had been in.
Inside I spot an elderly couple just sitting down to their dinner. The man gets up and looks strangely at Jason. We must look really desperate and pathetic, because he opens the door.
“Young man, are you alright?” he asks.
“I am now, thank you!” Jason says as we push past as quickly as we can. We make a beeline for the door and tear it open.
We’re in the hallway now; the elevator is to our left at the end of the hall. The suite we just escaped from is to the right. I can hear more voices coming from both the suites, as we leave confusion in our wake. Again we are faced with a split-second decision. Jason makes it for us, shoving me quickly, not into the elevator, but into the stairwell. I pause, because I can’t help it. I can see the staircase spiraling down endlessly. My head swims worse than it did on the balcony. Jason is already down the first five stairs, b
rought to a halt when he realizes my hand has slipped from his grasp.
“Kit,” he whispers urgently. “Come on.”
I shake my head, knowing that I’m an idiot to be afraid, but unable to change the fact that my feet won’t move.
“We have to go.” He holds out his hand. We hear the crash of a door opening and footsteps thundering down the hall.
Just like on the balcony earlier, his eyes meet mine, and somehow I’m able to place my foot on the first step. Keeping my gaze low and my hand in his we fly down the stairs. We’ve just reached the halfway point when the stairwell echoes with the crack of gunshots. The Things are still a good floor above us, so the bullets miss. We’re running so fast now we’re in danger of falling, but we don’t slow down. Not even when more bullets ricochet off the wall above our heads. By the time we reach the bottom we’re both winded and I’m pretty sure I need to get outside fast before I throw up.
But this chase isn’t over yet. Thing One and Thing Two are still thundering down the stairs behind us. Even though I have eluded them once before, I’m not feeling so confident this time. And despite the fact he’s trying hard to hide it, Jason is slowing down. Clearly he’s weak from being tied to a chair for days. We come out of the stairwell and I realize we’ve ended up back in the underground car garage, which is good since I’m pretty sure no one would be happy to see the four of us in the hotel lobby.
Jason and I pause for a half a second and scan the garage. I don’t know what I’m looking for, maybe a red Mini Cooper with a white fender or maybe a familiar old man who always seems to show up at the last second, but I see neither. So I run instead.
I’m pulling Jason behind me now, out of the parking garage and onto the sidewalk. I know we’re going to have to stop soon, but first we have to get out of sight. Even though he’s looking a little worse for wear Jason hasn’t stopped thinking.
“In here,” he gasps, pulling me into a dank staircase leading under the road.
I follow him down into the Underground station. It’s a brilliant idea. The platforms are far too crowded for the Things to have any chance in spotting us. There’s no time to waste, so we both push past people and hurdle over the turnstiles before anyone can stop us. We jump into a train car just before the doors slide shut. It’s impossibly crowded, with barely enough room to stand. Somehow I’ve never felt better about being inside a stuffy train car full of smelly people. My eyes are glued to the window as we speed away. I think I just spot Thing Two searching the platform as we enter the tunnel.