NINETEEN
room carrying a large brown paper bag.
“Oh, bless your heart,” Anya muttered, walking out of the bathroom, drying her hair with a towel. “I’m starving.”
He closed the door behind him as softly as he could manage so as not to wake up the boy who was sleeping in one of the twin beds. His short brown hair was damp which meant he’d already taken his shower.
“Is that Chinese?” Anya asked, hanging the towel on the closet door, then meeting him halfway.
Tristan placed the large bag on top of a small desk in the corner. Before he even thought about asking for the egg roll, Anya had already shoved it into her mouth.
He suppressed a chuckle.
“Did you get rid of our phones?” she asked with her mouth full, opening the containers and scooping rice and chicken onto a paper plate.
“Yep.”
Tristan pulled up a chair for her, then another for him. She handed him a plate, then went on to make another.
“I placed both of our phones behind a greyhound bus. If anyone is tracking us, they’ll end up in New York.”
Anya looked impressed. “Smart.”
He shrugged like it was no big deal, but it felt good to make her proud. To be useful, and able to help. So much was out of their control, and he hated feeling useless.
“Should we wake him up to eat?” Tristan asked, taking a bite out of the egg roll as he took a seat.
“He just fell asleep,” Anya said, settling next to Tristan. “Let’s give him a few more minutes.”
“Has he talked at all?” Tristan asked, reaching into another bag for a bottle of water.
“Not yet.”
“Why do you think that is?” He twisted the cap and took a swig of the cold liquid. “Why he doesn’t talk, I mean.”
Anya shrugged. “There could be a million reasons. I asked him about his parents, it seems like they went to work and never came back. He didn’t say, but I’m pretty sure trackers got ahold of them. The man at the bank wasn’t family at all. He was in on the robbery. He got paid to get the boy in and out of there.”
“And you got all of that information with only yes or no questions?” Tristan asked. “I’m impressed.”
“My brother speaks full sentences and yet, yes or no questions worked the best.”
Sadness filled her eyes, and Tristan wished there was more he could do. “We’re going to find him.”
She offered him a grateful smile. He knew as well as she did that neither of them could make such a promise, but it just seemed like the right thing to say.
When she returned her attention back to the sleeping boy, Tristan followed her gaze. “Are you really planning on giving him up in exchange for your brother?”
“I don’t want to.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “But what choice do I have? I can’t risk my brother’s life.”
Tristan shook his head. “I can’t even imagine having to make a decision like that.”
Anya frowned. “If there was a way to find out who the Shadow is…”
“The Shadow?”
Anya rolled her eyes. “Unless you prefer the gray-eyed body snatcher.”
Tristan chuckled. “Now, that’s a mouth full.”
“Hence, the Shadow.”
“So, if the purpose of getting your brother was to keep you from leaving town, why not just control your mind instead?” Tristan asked. “Why go through all the trouble of getting your brother only to get to you?”
“Maybe they couldn’t. Maybe they can only control humans who aren’t anomalous.” Anya put her plate down, grabbed a pen and a notepad next to the TV, and returned to her seat. “Okay...what do we know about the Shadow so far?”
“For one thing, when he’s in control of a person, their eyes change to gray,” Tristan said.
“Also, when we shocked Killian with the taser, he came back as himself.” Anya added, taking notes. “So, it seems that the electric jolt disrupted the connection.”
“I wonder if he needs to have physical contact in order to take over someone’s mind,” Tristan said in between bites. “Although, if that were the case, he could have controlled me at Killian’s apartment.”
“So, he has limitations. We could use that to our advantage...” Anya looked up from the notepad. When her eyes met his, her voice suddenly faded and her cheeks turned red. “What?”
When he didn’t respond, she cocked her head.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
Her voice was soft and, when the corner of her lips lifted slightly, he found himself staring at them.
“I’m just baffled at how smart you are,” he said with a soft smile of his own.
She looked down at the notepad again, her cheeks turning even redder. “By the way, if you want hot water for your shower, you have to wiggle the lever a little. Took me a few tries to get it. Want me to show you?”
Tristan shrugged. “If it’s not too much trouble.”
“Not at all.”
Anya rose to her feet, and he followed her into the bathroom. She turned on the shower and wiggled the lever several times to regulate the temperature. She put her hand under the water, then turned around with a pleased smile. But as soon as she crashed into his chest, her smile faded, and all her blood rushed to her face.
He should have pulled back. Stepped away. Given her space to walk past him and leave the room, but he didn’t move. Her hands were resting on his chest, and all he could think about was pulling her closer. Feeling the heat of her body pressed against his. Tasting the rosebud lips that were mere inches away. Even though he knew nothing could ever happen between them...not without permanent consequences to his DNA.
Still, he didn’t want her to go. And when she didn’t pull away, he got the distinct feeling that she felt the same way.
“Thank you,” he whispered, knowing he shouldn’t have touched her arms, or cupped her face. Yet, it was as if his hands were being controlled by his heart and not his mind.
There was a flicker of change in her eyes, and something in the space between them felt different all of a sudden. Charged.
“We can’t…” she whispered, her sweet breath brushing his face.
“I know.”
Still, he brushed her full lips with the tip of his thumb, imagining what they would taste like.
A ping came from the bedroom, and Anya blinked as if the spell between them had broken. As if she had seen Tristan for who he really was. Unattainable. He waited for her to pull away, but she didn’t.
“That was my uncle’s laptop,” she said, her voice slightly unsteady as if her mind was somehow battling with her heart. “I had the boy upload everything back.”
Tristan nodded. He vaguely remembered seeing a laptop charging in the corner of the room.
“I should go check on the research,” she added.
Tristan pulled back, and she sucked in a breath. He stepped aside and she darted out of the bathroom, leaving him with his heart racing and a knot in his stomach.
He pushed the door closed, then leaned against the sink, rubbing his face with his hands.
What on earth was he doing?
Kissing her would change his entire life. There was no way he could remain as a tracker, and his father would never accept his resignation. Not without questions. And if anyone ever found out the truth about Anya, they would surely look into him. Tristan would be forced to live on the run as a fugitive. And who knew what kind of ability he would develop? He could end up being dangerous like the kid who blasted him with acid in the alley. And for what? A girl who was leaving anyway?
No. He turned to face the foggy mirror and glared at himself. He needed to keep his guard up.
He pulled his shirt over his head, then went to wiggle the lever until the shower turned cold.
Tristan finished his shower, slipped into some clean clothes he’d taken from Killian’s apartment, and walked out of the bathroom.
Anya was sitting on the sofa across the room with her uncle’s computer on her lap. Her brows furrowed as if she didn’t like what she was reading.
“Anything interesting?” he asked, reaching for his bottle of water and downing the rest of the drink.
Anya looked up as if she hadn’t heard what he said. Whatever she was focused on really had her hooked.
“Come see this,” she said, her voice slightly shaky.
Tristan sat next to her and looked at the screen. “What am I looking at?”
“A video.”
She pressed play and the image of a man came on the screen. He was strapped to what looked like a dentist chair inside a glass pod.
“Where am I?” the man asked, his voice shaking with anxiety. “What are you doing to me?”
There was no response, but someone must’ve been behind the camera because he kept looking in that direction.
“Hey, I know that guy,” Tristan said, pointing to the screen. “He was in the tracker training with me this past summer. He was one of the overseers of the camp.”
“Keep watching,” Anya said, her tone soft.
The man’s eyes widened with fear as a nurse entered the pod and approached with a syringe. After injecting a serum into his neck, she stepped out and closed the door. As soon as the pod door locked, the metal straps released the man’s wrists, as well as his feet.
The man staggered off the chair as if he were drunk. “What was that?” he asked, almost slurring. “What did you do—” He fell to his knees with foam spewing from his mouth.
A hissing sound came from the chair as a secret compartment appeared like a small drawer in front of him.
“That’s the only antidote,” the nurse said from behind the camera. “Either you take it, or you die.”
The man grabbed the syringe from inside the chair’s compartment, then looked up at the nurse who was still standing there, watching him.
“What is it?” the man asked, choking on the foam that was still coming out of his mouth.
“The antidote,” the nurse repeated. “Take it or die. It’s your choice.”
The man lifted the syringe with shaky hands and, without another word, he pierced it into his neck.
Anya gasped, and Tristan watched the video with eyes unblinking.
Once the syringe was empty, the man’s body began to convulse. After a few horrifying seconds, the man rolled on his side and vomited blood all over the white floor.
Anya grabbed Tristan’s arm and squeezed.
The video came to an end and the screen went black. Still, Anya’s grip stayed strong in Tristan’s arm.
“He was vomiting blood,” Tristan muttered, unable to look away from the black screen. “That means they…”
“Altered him,” Anya said.
“Why did they call it an antidote?” he asked, turning to look at her.
“They might’ve injected him with some sort of virus which only the anomalous immune system could fight,” Anya thought aloud.
“The research on the drive,” Tristan said. “It was about the anomalous immune system. It must be connected.”
Anya nodded. “Definitely.”
“What do you think they’re planning to do?” Tristan asked. But before Anya could respond, a knock on the door jolted both of them to their feet.
Anya tossed the laptop aside and reached for the taser she had taken from Killian. She hurried to stand behind the door while Tristan went to peek through the curtain.
“It’s Chloe and Zane,” he whispered.
“I never told them where we were,” she whispered back.
“What do you want to do?” he asked.
She gripped the taser, then motioned for Tristan to open the door. He did as she instructed. As soon as Chloe and Zane stepped inside, Tristan grabbed Zane in a chokehold while Anya jumped from behind the door and aimed the taser at Chloe.
“Don’t move,” Anya said, closing the door behind them.
Chloe’s eyes widened as she spotted the taser and raised her hands. “Anya, what’s going on?”
“On your knees,” she demanded. “Both of you.”
“Anya—”
“Get on your knees, now.” She looked at Tristan. “Get the flashlight.”
“What’s going on?” Chloe asked, lowering to her knees while keeping her hands up. Zane did the same next to her.
Tristan came back with the flashlight and without warning, he shined the blinding light into their eyes. A wave of relief washed through him. None of them were gray.
He glanced at Anya, clicking off the light. “They’re good.”
Anya let out a breath of relief and dropped her hands. “Sorry, guys.”
She hurried to help them to their feet, then went on to explain about the Shadow, what happened at Killian’s apartment, and why there was a child sleeping in the bed.
“How did you find us here?” she asked, tossing the taser on the sofa.
“I figured you would be using the fake ID I made for you,” Zane said, rising to his feet. “I just searched for Samantha Fray, and it was easy from there.”
“You guys shouldn’t be here,” Anya said. “It’s too dangerous.”
“We needed to show you something,” Zane said, removing his bookbag.
Chloe went to stand by Anya. “What happened to Killian?”
“We left a kitchen knife close by,” Anya replied. “It would give us enough time to run before he could cut himself free.”
“Smart. Oh, we also brought you some clothes. It’s nothing fancy, but at least they’re clean.” Chloe then glanced at the sleeping boy. “Uh, Anya…”
Anya followed her friend’s gaze, only to catch the boy’s brown eyes staring back at Chloe.
“Someone’s awake.”
“Hey…” Anya paused. After all of that, they still didn’t know the kid’s name. “Are you hungry? We got some food on the table.”
After a few seconds looking at everyone, the boy nodded.
“Come grab a bite,” Tristan said to the boy as he pulled up a chair near the table. “I’ll make you a plate.”
The boy rolled off the bed, rubbing his puffy eyes, then sat with Tristan.
“He seems pretty calm to be in a room full of strangers,” Chloe whispered to Anya, though loud enough that Tristan could hear.
“He seems calm with pretty much anyone,” Anya whispered back. “I think his ability to control technology might affect his emotions. Or lack thereof.”
“So, he’s like…a little robot?”
Anya rubbed her eyes, then let out a tired sigh. “I don’t know what he is. We’re just trying to keep him safe.”
“Got it.” Zane turned his laptop toward Anya.
She leaned closer. “What am I looking at?”
“The camera footage from outside the bank the day your uncle died,” Zane said.
“We thought you should see it,” Chloe added, pointing to an image of the building across the bank. Zane zoomed in at a man standing by a window. The glare of the sun reflected on the glass, making it hard to see his face, but then Chloe skipped to the next picture and the reflection faded.
“Is that…?”
“My dad,” Tristan said from across the room. He handed the boy the plate of food, then went to join Anya in front of the laptop Zane was still holding.
“Is that the sniper next to him?” Anya asked.
Tristan’s jaw clenched. “I’m not surprised.”
“You’re not surprised?” Anya gave Tristan a puzzled look. “Your father killed my uncle and you’re not surprised?”
Tristan frowned. “I had a feeling.”
“You had a feeling?” she barked. When he didn’t respond, she grabbed him by the arm and dragged him into the bathroom. She slammed the door closed, then glared at him. “You didn’t think to share that information with me?”
“I wasn’t sure—”
“You also weren’t surprised!”
“I know!” He pressed his lips into a tight line. He didn’t want to yell back at her. She had every right to be upset. “I’m sorry.” He softened his gaze, hoping she could see the genuineness in his eyes. “He told me he didn’t do it, and I believed him because…I guess I didn’t want it to be true. I didn’t want to think my father would be capable of killing someone in cold blood.”
“You can’t stay with me if you’re going to pick his side,” she said, her voice serious. “This is my brother’s life on the line.”
“I’m not on his side. Trust me.” He ran a hand over his damp hair. “It was just… I didn’t know…”
“I know,” she cut him off, an edge still on her voice. “But I need you to understand that I will do whatever it takes to get my brother back.”
Tristan nodded. “And I will help you.”
“Even if it means aiming a gun at your father?”
Tristan crossed his arms and leaned against the closed door. “We may not have to.”
Anya narrowed her eyes. “And why not?”
He sucked in a breath and braced himself. “Because you’re better off aiming the gun at me.”