In a blink, the man vanishes and then reappears directly in front of me. I gasp as his face grows pinched and he rattles off a few phrases, his tone now terse.
“I don’t understand you,” I yelp and throw my hand to his chest.
Just as my palm makes contact, the girl lunges for me and her hands wrap around my throat. My brain tells me to scream, but I can’t.
I thrust my hands out to make her stop, and as I do, a shadow enters from the corner of my vision. A figure rips the girl off me, and the two bodies crash to the ground with a thud.
I grab my neck while struggling to breathe.
The white-haired man backs away from the two fighters. My savior jumps to his feet and pulls the girl with him. I get a good look at his face—the boy.
He pushes her and yells words in their language. Breathing hard, he swivels his attention between the two people and points to the left and down the street.
The girl glances at me and narrows her eyes. My breath hitches when the irises swirl with cyan for a split second. But the two turn and race down the street, and then disappear into the darkness.
The boy turns to me, his chest still heaving. “I’m sorry about them.”
Chapter 9
“Sorry about them?” I rub my neck where the girl’s fingers had wrapped around it a moment ago. I try to clear my throat, but it aches as I swallow. A shiver shudders down my spine with the memory of her hostile expression and swirling irises.
“What about you? I’ve only been trying to talk with you about what happened on the ship, and all you do is run away.”
Across the street, two people walk together, casually glancing over here. The boy whips his neck toward the couple and back at me.
He lowers his voice and gestures us into the walkway behind the building. “Well, I’m not running now.”
“No way!” I dismiss him by waving my hand. “I’m staying out here where everyone can see me.” Part of me wants to trust him because of the connection I've shared with him, but the other part thinks the whole thing could be an illusion.
The boy, dressed in a loose light-colored shirt, maybe tan, lets out a sigh and shakes his head. “You wouldn’t say that if you knew what was going on.”
I step toward him and he eases away, keeping his distance.
“That’s exactly what I want to uncover—what’s going on,” I growl.
The boy throws a nervous glance in the people’s direction, but the couple is now out of sight.
“Who are you?” I demand. “And who were that man and girl who tried to choke me? I’ve had enough threats lately. I don’t need any more.”
“Someone else threatened you? Who?” he asks.
I don’t answer. No way I’m going to tell him about Hammond at the gathering.
The boy’s eyebrows knit together, and with genuine concern in his expression, he reaches for my neck. But he lowers his hand and instead says, “Are you okay?”
“No. I’m not okay.” In fact, I can still feel the girl’s hands squeezing me as if I were still a threat to her. “And you should hang around different people! Who are they?”
The boy stares at me and says nothing for far too long. “I can’t say,” he finally says. “But I can help you in another way.”
Frustrated with him, I cross my arms over my chest. “You ran away from me the other day, and now you want to help?” Part of me wants to push past him and say forget it. But my options are so limited. If he has any information about my dad, I should let him say it.
“If you can’t tell me who they are, how about you start by telling me about you?” I ask.
He shakes his head.
I scoff. “I can’t trust you if I don’t even know who you are.”
Conflict brews in his eyes as he whispers, “My name is Javen.”
My chest fills with electricity upon hearing his name. I clutch my shirt, right over my heart, with the sensation’s suddenness. Visions of Javen from when I was unconscious whirl through my mind like a movie in fast-forward. His name is like music to me, a “haven,” just like his name suggests, and everything in me wants to trust him. To be with him—what am I thinking? I barely know this guy. I blink and push all the feelings and memories away. But the best I can do is let the sensations simmer just under the surface.
“My name is Cassi,” I choke out, unsure of how else to respond. Then I remember that he already knows my name. Memories rush back of when he protected me in the corridor.
He bores his stare into me and I know, despite all logic saying otherwise, that he’s having the same set of intense, heart-pounding feelings as me.
“I know your name . . . Cassi.” The way my name forms on his lips nearly draws the air from my lungs. He blinks and adds, “I can get you into the Capitol building.”
I step back, hit by the reality train. How does he know where I’m going? Max and I are the only people who made these plans. Maybe this is a trap. My pulse quickens, now for different reasons as my mind reels between the decision to forget the whole thing or get away from this boy and go on my own.
“You’re never going to make it in without my help,” he says as if he had read my mind. “The codes the male gave you will work to get you in. But Hammond installed too much security. You’ll be caught within five minutes.”
My pulse picks up even more and now pounds in my ears. “Male? You mean Max? What else do you know about me?”
He peers at the ground. “Enough.”
“Are you following me or Max?”
“Not exactly.”
“Well, then what exactly? Suddenly now you want to help me?”
“Cassi,” Javen says, “I’m sorry about the other day. But the time wasn’t right. I didn’t know enough yet.”
His words are so confusing. “Time for what?”
“I wish I could tell you and I do apologize for that, but as you noticed my . . . friends are not too happy about you.” Javen points the way the girl and man went and then lowers his hand to his side. “Right now, I can help you get inside the Capitol building and out safely. That’s it. But I do know you will be unable to speak to the Board members you were searching for.”
“Why not?” He even knows who I’m planning to meet?
“Because on the way here, I saw them leave the building.”
My heart sinks. What good is it to get into the building if I can’t ask Hirata and Cooper for help? “Then forget it.” This is too weird and breaking in isn’t going to work anyway.
Javen thinks for a few seconds. “I could get you into Hammond’s office.”
I open my mouth to protest, but it’s not a terrible idea. In reality, it is a terrible idea, but I can’t let my quest for truth die since that is exactly what Hammond wants. And there’s something about this boy that makes me want to trust him.
Most of my logic cast aside, I gesture forward. “Lead the way.”
♦ ♦ ♦
Javen guides us around the back of the Capitol building. The plants wrapped around this building do not appear to have any flowers—leaves and vines only—which is a relief. Despite the moons, the overhead light is dim. Thankfully there are no other people in sight. I scan the wall for any surveillance and find no obvious units. Doesn’t mean there aren’t any, though.
As we use the walkway, Javen picks up his pace and raises his right hand. “There, the building’s security cameras will begin to loop. But we don’t have much time. Altering the feed for too long will appear suspicious.”
So, there are cameras. I have no idea what he just did, but I doubt he wants to get caught either, so whatever. I’m going to trust he adjusted the surveillance.
We come to the service entrance per Max’s instructions, and I start to tell Javen the code. But before I get there, he hovers his hand over the lock and the door pops open.
“How’d you—”
Javen is already piloting me inside the building before I get the words out. The space we step into is plain, as I might expect a se
rvice entrance to appear. He looks around and holds out his hand as if to tell me to be quiet. I guess that’s something to ask about later when we’re not in a hurry. But he must be using crazy spy tech to hack the building.
“It’s safe,” he whispers. “We have several minutes before the guard arrives.”
I shake my head, having no idea if he’s right or just lying. And if he is lying the joke really is on me.
To the side is a staircase, and Javen motions to it. I check a map outlining Board member office locations in the information Max sent to my Connect. Luckily, Hammond’s office is only five floors up in suite 516 and not in the penthouse. Maybe she’s afraid of heights.
Javen and I race up the stairs, and once at the exit to floor five, he stops me again. His head turns from side to side several times as if he’s listening.
“It’s clear,” he says.
“So, you’re telling me that you can hear whether or not the coast is clear?” I ask, catching my breath.
His dark brows push together. “Of course.”
Of course! As if everyone has super hearing. I shouldn't trust this guy at all because this is crazy. But for some reason I do. I shrug and push open the door into the white-walled office corridor. Overhead, a few dim lights illuminate the space. I scan the hall and then turn right to locate suite 516. I see the office next to a door marked “Briefing Room.”
I race to the correct door and allow Javen to release the lock. It’s faster that way. After he does his thing, the door slides back and we both hustle inside. My heart pounds with the hope I may find information about Dad. But the hope is quickly dashed when I take in the room. The whole space is pretty sparse: a desk, one office chair, and two extra seats. No artwork decorates the white walls, or anything else for that matter. Light from both the city and the moons stream in through the large window, making it fairly easy to see. On the desktop is Hammond’s touchscreen computer. That’s my best bet.
“Can you get into her computer?” I ask since I know nothing about hacking and he seems to be an expert.
Javen looks toward the computer. “Possibly. But I’d need more time than we have.”
Okay. Change of plans. I sprint to the desk drawers and throw them open, one at a time. But mostly they’re empty. A few office supplies, personal items. Nothing that would give us any information about the explosion or my dad.
“She must have all the information all locked up in there”—I nod to the computer—“or she takes anything useful with her when she leaves.”
I plop down in her seat and motion to activate the power. Javen quickly blocks my action with his hand.
“Her log in might have an ID scanner. It could pick up on your fingerprints, DNA . . . anything,” he says. “Let me see what I can do.”
Javen leans in and powers up the tech. The glass lights up, and a new Board symbol splashes across the screen: Earth and Arcadia overlapping while surrounded by stars. Despite having no clue why he can log in and not me, I stand and allow Javen to sit. Instead of using the projected keyboard, he runs his hand in front of the screen and from his fingers comes a slight glow. He closes his eyes and the logo disappears. Computer code moves across the screen faster than I’ve ever seen. Javen’s eyelids pop open, and he watches the scrolling as if he can decipher the information that quickly. No one can, though. It’s not humanly possible. I throw my hands into the air. This is useless.
“Let’s just go,” I say, before my attention moves to the bottom of the screen to a blinking icon. A blinking icon that wasn’t there previously. As I watch, a glow comes from below my chin. My pendant blinks at the same rapid pace.
Why is it doing that? I rest my fingers on the crystal and try to figure out what’s going on. Then reality hits me. An alarm is going off. We triggered a security alarm.
“Javen.” My voice comes out in a shaky whisper, but he doesn’t answer. It’s almost as if he’s in a trance. “Javen,” I repeat, this time louder.
He blinks down hard and the scrolling code stops.
“We tripped an alarm!”
Javen spins toward me in his chair. “That’s impossible.” But then he moves his attention to the crystal pulsing under my shirt collar and his eyes grow wide.
“We need to get out of here. Now,” I say.
Javen springs from his seat and holds his hands out to quiet me. He tips his head as if to listen, again. “I should’ve never logged on,” he mutters. “I knew there wasn’t time.”
There’s no place to hide in here except for under the desk, so I run to the door. But before I get far, Javen grabs my upper arm and I whirl toward him.
“We have to go now!” I yell as I pull for the door.
“Cassiopeia.” Javen’s voice is calm. Way calmer than it should be in this situation. “The guards will be here in twenty seconds and they have weapons. We can’t make it. But I can get us out of here.”
Twenty seconds? I scan the room again. There’s not even a closet.
Javen steps forward, keeping his fingers wrapped around my arm, and gently pulls me close to his chest. My head spins with his scent. It’s like the fragrance of a clear day right after the rain.
“We can’t do this.” I fight the urge to melt into the safety of his body. “If the guards catch us here, Hammond will detain me, and I’ll never find out anything about my dad.”
But Javen only pulls me in tighter, and his hands rake into my hair. I look up, and he inhales deeply. He leans down and presses his face against the top of my head and whispers into my hair, “Trust me.”
Trust him? What is he going to do? Make us invisible? I try to pull away but can’t. Javen’s strong arms hold my body in place until he hurries us up to the window. Still clutching my upper arm in one hand, he throws his free hand forward and emits a cyan-colored blast, blowing the window out from the inside in a deafening roar. As if the scene were in slow motion, the glass shatters and rains onto the deserted street below.
I let out a yelp from the sound. Javen snakes his hand around my waist in one fluid motion and forces me up onto the now-open ledge. Wind blows my hair away from my face.
I glance down and my stomach churns. We’re only five floors up, but I’m unconvinced we’re going to live if we jump. Might as well be the thirtieth floor, for all it matters. Javen glances behind us and grips onto me tighter.
“Hold your breath and jump, Cassiopeia,” he says as a blue-green glow radiates from us.
I want to say there’s no way I’m going to do this, but just as I open my mouth to speak, the door to Hammond’s office flies open and hits the wall in a resounding crack. Several laser blasters target the window and the blue beams shoot past me.
Javen leaps from the ledge, pulling me into the air.
I don’t even scream.
Chapter 10
This is it. My life is over.
The words circle in my mind.
I squeeze my eyelids shut and brace for the hard pavement and certain excruciating pain, but instead my body is plunged deep into water.
I gasp and the shock sends liquid down my throat. I throw out my arms to swim as my eyes shoot open. But of course, I can’t see anything in the pitch-black pool. My lungs burn like fire. Air, I need air.
But I have no idea which way is up. I could be diving deeper for all I know.
My lungs burn for oxygen. Trying to right myself, I kick my legs behind me. But as I do, a pair of strong arms grabs for me and we start to ascend. At least I hope we start to ascend.
Javen and I burst out and onto the surface. I choke, gasping for breath and coughing up water.
Looking around, everything is gone. The city, the buildings, the street, any people shooting at us. Overhead are Arcadia’s moons, but the sky sparkles with cyan wisps that were previously not there. Surrounding the river is a thick forest packed with lush vegetation. Beyond the trees is the same mountain range near Primaro. Everything appears so strange. As if the landscape is a cooler color temperature than I’m use
d to seeing. But I’m not sure if that’s it.
“Whe . . . where are we?” I sputter as he drops me onto the shore.
When searching for Dad in the ship’s bay and then, suddenly, before the second explosion, Javen was there. And then I found myself in the corridor with him. Can he teleport? I’d thought maybe I’d imagined that, but there’s no way this is all in my mind right now. I glance down at my soaked body and server’s uniform and push a clump of dripping wet hair off my face.
Beneath the collar of my shirt, the crystal glows brighter than ever and illuminates the night-sky darkened earth below me.
I wrench my arms up and turn toward Javen, who’s sitting next to me, his chest heaving.
“What happened?” I demand once I’ve caught my breath. “Where are we?”
Javen drops his head into his hands and says nothing.
“Javen,” I say. “You blew out an entire window with a blue-green glow that came from your hand. People were shooting at us. You threw us out of a window over a street and we ended up in a river. That’s not normal. You need to tell me what’s going on.”
"I'm sorry it had to be that way," he whispers. "Normally I would have cloaked us . . . but it doesn't protect against the lasers . . ." His voice tapers off, and then he groans and slumps to the side and onto the ground in a heap.
My chest tingles with fear. “Are you okay?” I scurry across the grass and sand on the shore. His right shirtsleeve is torn and bloody, and beneath the tear is a significant wound. One of the blasts must have hit him. I pull the tear open further to examine the damage. With a grunt, I roll him over onto his back and search for any more possible injuries. But there’s nothing else.
I turn him around and recheck the wound on his arm. The cut isn’t bleeding anymore and all I can think of is that the laser fire must have cauterized the laceration. But what’s left is angry, raw and red and, by his clenched jaw, causing him intense pain.
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