I round the corner to Mae and Will all over each other.
My breath lodges in my throat as I stare at her fingers woven between his, his palm pressed into the curve of her back. I gave her the damn space she wanted, but this . . . I shouldn’t be surprised. I shouldn’t have hoped she’d choose me. Not when there’s no way I can compete with the history they share.
Focusing on Ace loping along at my side, I walk right past them as if they’re not there. The damn door squeaks when I open it to enter the room. Fan-fucking-tastic, they’ll know I saw them. I reach for the wall, slamming my palm against it and close my eyes.
“Jax?” Lilly hedges.
Ace nudges my knee. I drag my eyelids open and she’s sitting on the floor right below me. Her face turned up, her forehead wrinkled. Need to pull my shit together.
“Happy Friday,” I say. “Let’s hope the Collective feel like playing today.”
Lilly’s brows squish together and her mouth thins. “You all right?”
“Fine.” I pull on the biggest smile I can muster, and push myself off the wall now the room seems more stable. With only B crew here, it looks like I’m the first of my shift to arrive. Great, I’m stuck until shift change is over.
The door sweeps open, Ace yaps, and damn my head wants to turn toward it. But I won’t. Not when it’s them. And it is; the shift of energy in the room gives them away. Almost like a magnetic force, pulling me to her even though I’d rather not look up to see either one of them. I focus on the floor to fight the urge; on the chipped skirting boards, the paint flecked and peeling. They sure could use a fresh layer of paint.
“Where have you been anyway?” Lilly asks. Thank small mercies for small talk.
“A-shift.”
“Oh,” Mae whispers.
If I wasn’t tuned into her voice, I never would’ve heard it.
“Why?” Lilly asks.
For once, the smartass remark slips out of my grasp.
“Right,” Sam booms, a second before he powers through the door. “Report.”
I turn around, slowly.
“Not a single thing for the entire shift,” Will says. “No alarms, not even a blip.”
Except for your make-out session, that’s pretty report worthy, dontcha think?
The lights flicker overhead. One of the fluorescent globes must be on the way out. The constant on-off blurs my vision and my head takes up a regular pound. Rubbing my temples, I push my way through the thick air to the other side of the room where I tug on a protect-it, ready to start my shift. Ace nudges my leg again with his nose, probably wants to go for a run. Not now, boy.
“Good,” Sam says. “Maybe they’re backing off.”
“Doubt it.” No one hears me, and that’s what I intended.
Sam strides across the room, straight to the laptop, and scans the open map. “Okay, B-shift you’re off. Rest up, because I doubt this lapse will last.”
Lilly tosses a pair of port bands and I snatch them out of the air, then shove them and my hands in my pockets. She meets my eyes for a split second and walks past, bumping my shoulder with hers. “Stay safe.”
“I’m always safe.”
I turn around to lean against the wall. While I wasn’t paying attention more people must have filed in. Hannah and the other girl hover around Sam, as do as the rest of A-shift—a dozen of us in total. B have taken off already, all except Mae who pauses near the door, her long hair loose around her shoulders in the way she never wears it on shift. A soft frame around her face, it’s exactly like when she’s asleep. Our gazes collide and her fingers wrap around her forget-me-not pendant. Her teeth catch her red bottom lip, all puffy as if she’s bitten right through it. Her usual jeans have a worn patch on the thigh showing an inch of creamy skin. She’s pretty damn sexy.
From the other side of the door, Will appears, placing a hand on her arm, his touch so gentle it turns my stomach to rock again. Yeah, asshat, you did that to her lips. She glances away before I do and says something to him, then gives him a small smile. Lately, she doesn’t smile often enough.
Will cuts a glare in my direction, then leaves with Lilly. Whatever. I pull the port band out of my pocket and twist it between my fingers. It’s funny, the color is supposed to be skin-tone, but it’s only really skin-tone on someone with pale skin—like Mae. My thumb glides over the smooth node on the inside. Porting’s the worst, it’d be better if we had transports. Almost the same speed, but none of the I’m-gonna-hurl stomach drop.
“You switched shifts.” Even though her voice is whisper soft, it’s an accusation.
I shrug.
“Why?”
I can’t very well tell her it’s because I’m hopeless. Hopelessly in—not love, but maybe something like it—with her and every second she’s hurting twists my insides. Instead I say, “You asked for space, I respected that and now you have Will.” The smile I force my lips into, is fake. “You’re welcome.”
She flinches and takes a step back, further away from me.
“I don’t have Will.”
“Whatever.” I shove the port band back in my pocket and pick at my fingernails. Nonchalance: gotta own it.
“Just because he didn’t run away, doesn’t give you the right to be pissy.”
“Whatever, Cupcake.” I tug at the nail too hard and it rips right off, beading blood in my cuticle. “I don’t care what the two of you do or don’t have.”
“You saw us?”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“It was a hug, Jax. That’s it. A simple hug, like friends exchange when one of them is upset.” Her glare cuts right through me. “You know what? I can’t worry about this right now. I’m tired.” She waves her hand through the air. “So tired of all this.”
Does she mean me? Probably.
“All the death and fighting . . .” She takes a shaky breath. “I just can’t do this anymore. This seeing people die, then us arguing and fighting. I hate it.”
She walks away.
The siren sounds.
I move to the port mat, yanking the bands over my wrists as I go. Hannah slides her hand into mine and the last thing I see before I port out is Mae by the door, watching me. Her teeth worrying her bottom lip, her arms crossed over her chest, her eyes locked with mine until the blackness of the void envelopes me.
We thud into onto a hard floor. Multicolored sunlight splashes across a slate tiles; red, green, blue, purple. Stained glass windows. By the smell of recently burning candles mixed with polished timber it’s gotta be a church. All hell breaks loose.
Gunfire.
The force of the bullet hitting my chest throws me back into the girl behind me, Hannah’s friend. It bounces off my protect-it, the tech bullet not causing any convulsions. My pulse pounds so loud I can hear it and my vision flicks to crystal-clear. These suckers won’t know what hit them.
“Out. We’re out of here, now!” someone yells. A Collective agent: male.
I pull my weapon and flick the catch. It springs open, the clarinium blade longer than my forearm.
Two of them. One crouched behind the pulpit, not like he’s hiding, but like he’s rummaging. The second, a young guy—maybe a little younger than me—dashes across the room, advanced-taser gun trained on me. I know him, one of Nik’s arrogant lackeys, can’t think of the name though.
“Don’t move,” he shouts.
I laugh. “Go ahead, shoot. Let’s see how well your tech works.”
He fires again and again. With legs set wide and muscles tensed, this time I’m braced for it, so the bullets just ping right off like he never shot me. The second agent pops up from behind the pulpit, back straight, expression alert, wild almost.
My heart fails to beat on time.
Nikias.
“Well, well, well.” A grin twists his lips. “My day just got more interesting.”
Now it’s beating too fast, a rushing, pumping roar in my ears.
The other guy looks frantic, his eyes wide and face pale. “We have to abort.”
No way in hell. I’ve been waiting for this moment. After everything the bastard put us through. Capture, torture, lies. Letting it go isn’t an option, hatred burns too strong. I raise the blade over my head, roaring at my brother, who whips out a blade twin to mine, its clarinium reflecting the colored light. We both run. My feet slide on the carpet runner and our weapons clash halfway down the aisle, making my blood sing a battle song.
Nikias lunges to the left and I parry down. He’s a step ahead.
Time slows.
Nikias knocks my weapon hand aside with the hilt of his not-sword and pain shoots through my wrist and up my arm. My grip holds.
“Where’s your girl?” He thrusts toward my chest. Out of your filthy reach. The slam of my shoulder into his knocks him off-kilter. “Not here.”
“Shame.” Lust creeps across his face. Bastard. My vision clouds for a split second. Nik’s foot connects with my stomach and I fly backward. My feet slip on the slate and slide right out so I fly head over ass. It slams into the floor and Nik towers over me, the tip of his blade piercing my shoulder as he growls.
The other agent grabs Nik’s arm while pointing his gun down the aisle. Nikias doesn’t care though, his mouth twists in a mock smile. “I’ve almost got the other two keys and when I do, little brother, I’m coming for your pretty little girlfriend.”
In a blink, they port out.
Like hell he will.
The sudden absence of his sword sticking me elicits fiery pain. I groan and Hannah rushes to my side, her slicked-back hair gleaming blond in the red-tinged light. She glances over her shoulder, “Shen, c’mon, Jax is hurt. We need to get him back to base.”
I push her off me and stand up, even though the movement hurts like hell. “I’m all right. Go, see what they were doing.”
Her brow creases; she’s going to argue.
“Do it,” I snap.
She scurries off toward the pulpit and as soon as their backs are turned, I press my fingers to the wound. They come away bloody, but only on the very tips, and not a lot. So, gritting my teeth, I follow them to the front of the church. Lucky he didn’t apply any pressure or it would have been far worse.
“There’s nothing here.” Shen shakes her head, whipping straight, dark hair about her face. “Looks like whatever was here, isn’t anymore.”
Leaning on the wooden podium, I peer over it. A hole fills the space directly behind. Well, a large slate tile sits on top of its neighbor, exposing a hollow gap in the floor where light glints off the metal lining of what can only be described as a safe box.
“What do you think was in there?” Hannah asks.
Hopefully not a frickin’ patriarchal key. With Mae’s pendant safe with Marcus, there are still two of the powerful artifacts unaccounted for. Pulling my weight off the support, a groan slips out, but I speak to cover it. “Whatever it was, Nik’s got it.”
“Was that . . .” Shen’s olive skin pales.
“Nikias Manvyke?” Hannah finishes.
“Come on. Nothing left for us to do here.” I close a hand around both of their arms and port us back to base.
As soon as we land, Sam jumps to his feet, ready for action.
I tell him, “Nothing serious. It was just Nikias fooling around in a church.”
“Weird, what was he up to?”
“Don’t know or care, but I need to clear my head.”
I stride straight past him, thump my palm into the door for the second time this afternoon, and let it slam behind me. Nik doesn’t deserve the headspace he’s hogging, but I can’t shift his arrogant ass from my thoughts. He’s more like Manvyke than ever, with that stupid mocking sneer and violent threats. If he’s hunting for the keys then Manvyke has a plan and no way in hell will I stand by and let them gather that kind of power. Or come after Mae. Neither of them will hurt her ever again.
Heading who-knows-where, I let my feet take me where they will. What the hell was Nik doing in a church, ranting about keys and Mae? My vision clouds again at the memory of his threat and that dirty look. He’s got no right to even think about her. Mae’s strong and can stand up for herself. Christ knows she’s proved it often enough, even against him. But still, Nik’s not getting anywhere near her again.
I don’t pass a single person as I make my way around the halls of the second floor to the staircase, which is probably a good thing. Being pleasant isn’t easy with so many emotions warring for control. Climbing the stairs in long strides, I cover two steps at a time. When I emerge at the top, to the third floor, I wish I was running, but each step sears my shoulder. It’s irrational, but that damn tug is back stronger than ever.
Marcus charges out of a dorm and I dodge to the side, barely missing him. His arms flail in an attempt to right himself and he pushes his glasses up his nose. I don’t turn back even when he shouts after me. It’s like my feet know where my heart is because that’s right where they take me. I need to see her, make sure she’s here. Not locked up somewhere as Nik’s prisoner.
Sweat slicks my palms. I wipe them on my cargos.
The exit door stands ajar. A shove against it with my good shoulder pushes it all the way open, the movement spearing a throbbing pain through me, but I grit my teeth and swallow back a grunt as I push through the pain and the door.
Lilly can help me with the wound later. It’s not urgent.
Lying on the concrete roof, curled on her side, Mae’s wavy hair is fanned out over the ground. Her shirt riding up her back puts those mind-numbing dimples above the band of her jeans on display. All the fight seeps out of me, leaving only sorrow and I try to take a deep breath, but my lungs won’t fill. It’s like they’re stuffed with water, allowing me to take only half their capacity.
Mae doesn’t move.
Is she . . . sleeping?
I am an ass. I shouldn’t have been so pissed about her and Will. If she said it was nothing, then it probably was, but seeing him hold her like that when it’s all I’ve wanted for weeks. To be able to ease her pain. And now I’ve probably hurt her. Careful of my bloody shoulder, I lay on the ground behind Mae, curling my body around hers and placing my arm over her, gently.
Mae doesn’t move.
The breath she takes shudders.
“I’m sorry.” I speak against her head, my lips brushing her hair.
Never-ending silence.
“It’s so hard, Mae. I . . .”
It’s weird. This isn’t something I ever wanted, but the way I feel about her, it just kind of crept up on me, pulling me further in every day, and now I couldn’t climb out if I tried.
I wind her fingers through mine and pull my arm in around her. Her back presses against my chest and I don’t care about the blood anymore. The pain either, because right now she’s not pushing me away.
“Everything hurts, Jax.”
“I know, Cupcake.”
And I do. The ache inside me won’t go away. It’s been there my whole life, but when I met her it faded. Like it didn’t define who I was anymore; it shrank to just a tiny part of me. Before her, I used to be able to lock it away so it wasn’t all up in my face, but now it’s back worse than ever and eating me from the inside. Demanding to be felt.
“This war . . . innocent people are dying and for what? So the Collective can scare us into leaving them alone. It’s just so . . . so . . .” She takes a breath and I pull my arms in a little tighter.
“And my dad. He still doesn’t know who I am some days, you know. Other days he’s good. It’s like he’s himself again. Almost.”
“I’m sorry.” And really I am. Sorry for my manic father. Sorry for thinking this was about us, when she has so much more going on.
“And my mom . . .” Mae presses our hands into her stomach. “She probably doesn’t know who I am either. That’s if she’s not—”
“She’s not.” My father wouldn’t have let her go unscathed, so I don’t know why I say it like a promise, that she’s not dead . . . maybe because Mae couldn’t take that.
She sighs. “How’d you know to find me here?”
“It’s your place, Cupcake. This is where you always come.”
She pulls her legs up to her chest, curling into a smaller ball. And I move my body too, so that it cradles hers.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “Sorry I yelled and got angry.”
“It’s okay.”
While we lay there, the sun sinks below the other buildings and the sky fills with pink and orange. As upset as I am, as she is, something makes this moment special. It could be the warmth of the sun-kissed concrete seeping through my cargos, could be our bodies touching for the first time in a month, or it could be because this is a goodbye.
It’s time to make a move and ordinarily I’d ask her to come, but not this time. Not after my father . . . after Nikias . . . what they did to both of us. My father can’t have those keys. Alone they’re powerful enough, but if he manages to gather more than one, the Collective’s threat we’re now facing will seem like child’s play. I’m leaving to stop him.