Between Shadows (20 page)

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Authors: Chanel Cleeton

BOOK: Between Shadows
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They had to have been following me. But for how long? Were they following me from Luke’s? Are he and Grace in danger now?

I hail a black cab, pulling the hood up on my jacket so my hair is covered. I ask the driver to take me a few Tube stops away from Luke’s. It’s the longest cab ride of my life. 

How did they know where I was? How do they know we’re in London?

I text Luke as soon as I get into the cab…and wait. I get out when we’re far enough away from the chaos, and for an hour I wander the streets, scanning every face in the crowd. I get closer and closer to Luke’s, but despite the fear pummeling me I won’t go there. I need to know I’ve lost them, that I’m not bringing danger to the two people I care about most. But with each minute that goes by without an answer from Luke, I know I have no choice. I need to see for myself that he and Grace are safe.

I head home.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty-six

 

The front door is open—just a crack, but when my hand pushes against the heavy wooden door, I watch, horror filling me, as it opens fully, revealing the hall to Luke’s flat. The
empty
hallway.

I pull the knife out of my jacket.

My legs carry me up the stairs, taking two steps at a time. My heart pounds furiously in my chest, my voice stuck in my throat. 

Upstairs is just as eerily quiet as downstairs. There is no sign of my sister or Luke, but the flat displays evidence of a struggle. Furniture is kicked over, a glass shattered in the kitchen. I scan the area, my eyes settling on the red light flashing on the stove. The surface is still warm. Whatever went down here happened recently.

They’re gone.

I rush through the flat, heading for Luke’s bedroom. I palm the wall, finding the ridge he showed me. I push down, watching as the panel slides back, exposing a small steel safe. I head straight for the safe, keying in the code. As the safe opens, I grab a duffel bag from Luke’s closet, filling the bag with money, mobile phones, and passports. I grab the gun, tucking it in the waistband of my running pants.

Whoever took Luke and Grace clearly spent most of their time in the living room and dining room. The bedroom is untouched.

Part of me wants to stay and search the rest of Luke’s place. But
they
could come back. I need to run.

I head for the door, my heart pounding. Fury and fear wind their way through me. The two most important people have been taken from me, and for the first time in my life, I’m utterly paralyzed by indecision. I am really and truly alone.

I leave the flat, careful not to touch anything. As my feet hit the pavement, I’m shocked at how normal everything is around me. People weave in and out of crowds; cars whiz by. All around me, life goes on. And my world has been rocked. 

I head to the mews where Luke kept his bike, praying Ares hasn’t gone there yet. I use the key I found in the safe to open the door and push the garage door up, huffing slightly at the weight of it. Luke’s gleaming Ducati sits parked in the center. I grab a helmet off one of the shelves, shoving it onto my head. I grab the rest of the stuff and throw it into my bag.  

It would have been easy to kill Luke and Grace and leave their bodies in the flat. Living off the grid as much as we do, our bodies and lives are expendable; there would have been no one to connect their deaths to the Academy, no one who would have spent much time investigating their murder. So why take them instead?

I doubt the Director has any maternal feelings toward Luke. And she certainly wouldn’t hesitate to end my sister’s life. So what’s their endgame?

They have to want something. And I think it’s me.

###

I miss Grace desperately.

Part of me wants to turn myself in, to offer to trade my life for theirs. But even that won’t end this thing. We’ve all become a threat to Ares and they won’t stop until they’ve killed us. If the Director was willing to kill her husband, I doubt she’ll hesitate to kill her son.

I find a random hotel in Piccadilly. I have Luke’s money, some documents, and weapons. It’s not enough. The silence in the room shouldn’t bother me; I’m used to working alone. But I feel Grace’s absence acutely. And I miss Luke.

I start online, searching for the property in Surrey that Malcolm mentioned.

Four hours later, I have nothing. I run a hand through my hair, frustration pulling at me. I want to go out and fight; I have no clue where to start. The Academy always provided me with targets. I was little more than a blunt instrument; I never had to figure out who the bad guys were. 

Maybe I should try to find Malcolm again; maybe I should head back to Tunis. But if he didn’t want to help a few days ago, I seriously doubt he’ll help us now. And who knows if he was the one who turned us in in the first place.

I check my watch, rubbing my eyes.

According to Luke, Oscar’s flight lands tomorrow morning. There’s no way I can go to the airport, but hopefully I can get a message to him to come to me. I use my new phone to type a quick text asking him to meet me at a spot near the hotel. I sign off using the code Luke developed for all of us.

For hours I search the Internet, looking for anything I can find on Ares. My search of possible houses in Surrey leads me with thirty contenders, hardly anything to go on.

I’ve prided myself on being the best asset at the Academy, but looking at my skills up close I realize how limited I really am. 

I’m so tired.

I curl up in a chair, my back to the wall, my gaze facing the door, Luke’s gun clutched in my hand. And I wait.

###

It starts with the fire. Always. 

In my dreams—nightmares, really—the flames lick at my skin, threatening to consume. This time when the fire comes, it isn’t just my mother and me. Luke is there, too—

Luke and Grace. 

I open my mouth to scream, to warn them to run away, but no sound comes out. I try to move, to run to them and push them away, but my feet are rooted to the ground. I try to lift my arms, but they, too are useless. My whole body is paralyzed. The flames move closer. The heat rushes my face, sweat pooling on my brow. Smoke fills my lungs, shaking my body with harsh coughs.

I’m going to die.

A man’s face flashes before me. His features are more masculine than mine, his eyes a bit closer together, his nose a bit larger. But his eyes—

It’s like looking in a mirror. Luke was right when he said I had my father’s eyes.

I have no memory of him, and yet at the sight of that face, I know. I’m looking at my father’s face. 

And then the flames come, sweeping us away until nothing is left.

I wake in the tiny hotel room in Piccadilly, my body folded in a chair, Luke’s gun clutched in my hands. My body is covered in sweat, my heart pounding with fear. 

I don’t move until morning.

###

We meet in a sushi restaurant off Piccadilly.

Oscar texts me when he’s at the location. I walk the short distance from the hotel to the restaurant, my strides rapid, glancing over my shoulder, wholly focused on my surroundings. I can’t afford to be sloppy again. 

I’m tired, bone weary tired. Sleep has eluded me these past few days and I’m running on caffeine and adrenaline. I’m pushing my body far harder than I should, hoping I can stave off the impending crash. The Academy gave us pills to stay awake for particularly long or intense missions—“Go” pills. Now I have nothing.

As I near the restaurant my strides slow, my attention focused on the exit points. I trust Oscar to the extent I trust Luke and Luke
trusts Oscar. But I wouldn’t put anything past Ares anymore.

I peer through the glass window. Oscar sits alone at a table, his back to the wall. A computer is open in front of him. There are several other diners in the restaurant, but no one looks like a threat and no one seems suspicious. I take a deep breath before pulling on the handle and walking through the doorway. 

At the sound of the heavy door scraping against the floor, Oscar’s head jerks up, his gaze on me in an instant. He looks as stressed as I am. I sit down across from him.

“What happened?” Oscar asks, his voice low.

Emotion clogs my throat; for a moment, I can’t speak. “Luke and Grace are gone. Ares has them.”

“Shit. How long have they been gone?”

“A day. They were at Luke’s flat. I came home and they were gone.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to get them back.”

“What if—”

“No.” I struggle to keep the panic out of my voice. “They wouldn’t kill them. They want all of us. They have to know that holding Grace and Luke prisoner is the easiest way to get me. They want us all dead. Ares will use Luke and Grace as bait.”

“How do you propose that you get them back, then? If you do what they want, you’re definitely walking into a trap you won’t be able to get out of. If you don’t cooperate with them, how do you expect to find where they’re holding Luke and your sister?”

“We have a few leads.” I fill him in on our trip to visit Malcolm. “Luke mentioned that you started looking for the property in Surrey?”

Oscar nods. “I found some possibilities and I’m still working a few angles. I don’t have anything yet, though.”

“Luke said you had something important you wanted to share with us. What was it?”

Oscar clears his throat. “Yeah, about that. I found some odd things in your files.”

“What do you mean odd?”

“Well, I couldn’t decrypt all of your files, and some of the stuff was just basic—missions, that sort of thing.”

“Okay. And the odd part?”

“Well for one, you and Luke both have the same notation in your file—Project X.”

Something about that name sends a chill down my spine.

“What’s Project X?”

“I don’t know. That’s all it says. Project X. But I compared it with some other files I was able to pull off of the Director’s hard drive and I didn’t find anyone else who had Project X written in their files.”

“Even other assassins?”

“No one else.”

“Did you pull my sister’s file?” Biology ties us—what if the Academy considered her to be different, too?

“Yeah, I did. Not the complete file, but I was able to pull some of it.”

“And?”

“Hers is completely different from yours and Luke’s. They keep extensive medical records on all of the assets, but no one has records like yours. The notations there—” His eyes are laced with pity. “It looks like they were experimenting on you guys when you were kids. Luke’s notations are all medical and biological. Injections, that sort of thing. Yours aren’t.”

God help me, I know what he’s going to say.

“Yours are more environmental. Psychological.”

I cut him off with a curt nod. I know where this is headed and right now I don’t have it in me to go there. Not until Grace and Luke are back safe.

“Why did you start looking at our medical information?”

Oscar shifts in his seat. “Well, in the beginning it was just weird. Your file—and Luke’s—has a lot more medical information than the other ones. But then—”

Luke’s conversation with Grace in the kitchen flashes back to me. All that talk about our parents. “Luke asked you to look into it, didn’t he?”

A guilty look crosses Oscar’s face before he nods. “He didn’t want you to know; he didn’t want you to be upset. But now that he’s gone—”

Why didn’t Luke tell me? Why does he always seem to think he’s protecting me? When will he understand that I don’t need protecting?

“He doesn’t want you to get hurt.”

“I know.” I grimace. “I don’t care about Project X, whatever the hell it is. Not now. Not until they’re safe.” But that’s bullshit, of course. I care very much about the mention of my name, the one they gave me, the one I’ve kept since I entered the Academy, attached to some secret project. “I need to focus on Luke and Grace right now. I have to get them back. You have to help me. Please. I need you. I’m horrible with computers and I have no clue where to start looking.”

“Has Ares tried to contact you?”

“I don’t know. I ditched my mobile so they wouldn’t be able to trace it. And I haven’t checked the email the Academy assigned me for jobs for the same reason.”

Oscar begins typing something on his computer. “We can access those from here. If they left you a message, I have a program that can pull it without them being able to track your location.”

He hunches over the computer, his brow furrowed, typing on the keyboard. I give him my login information.  

“I’m in,” Oscar murmurs.

“Anything?”

“Give me a second. This isn’t something that can be rushed.” Oscar frowns. His gaze jerks up, meeting mine. Fear flashes in his eyes. “It’s bad.”

I grab the computer from him, turning the screen to face me. 

And then my world stops.

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