Authors: Chanel Cleeton
A picture of Luke’s battered face stares back at me, filling the computer screen.
“X.”
He looks destroyed—broken before me. A pain unlike any I’ve ever experienced floods me.
“I’m going to kill them.”
Bruises mar his skin, blood drips from his face. But his eyes—
His eyes haunt me the most. They stare at me through the computer screen, the same stubborn, proud glint he always carries shining through.
I can’t cry.
I read the words typed at the bottom.
Turn yourself in or he dies.
“I can use the photo background to get a better idea of where they’re keeping him. You’d be surprised what you can get off of a photo.”
I don’t look up from the screen. I can’t tear my gaze away from Luke. “Do it. We’re going to Surrey tonight.”
“You can’t possibly think we’re going to be ready to take on Ares by tonight,” Oscar sputters. “It’s just the two of us. We need help, something.”
“Who’s going to help us? And if we wait, they could hurt him more.” The words stick in my throat. “They could kill him. What are they doing to Grace right now? Is that the next picture I’m going to get? One of my little sister being tortured? Are they going to start experimenting on her?
“It’s up to you. If you don’t want to help, fine. But get me the location of Ares’s safe house. If you want to leave after that, I’ll go alone. But I’m going in no matter what you do. This ends tonight.”
Oscar sighs, resignation in his gaze. “We’ll need a helicopter.”
###
We head back to my hotel room in Piccadilly.
As soon as we close the door, Oscar flips open his computer and gets to work.
“Malcolm said the board would meet in Surrey soon. Do you think that could be where they’re keeping Grace and Luke?”
“Maybe,” Oscar answers, his voice strained. “But it could also be anywhere in the world. We have no way of knowing what they’re up to.”
“They’re in England.”
“How do you know?”
“I just know.” Some things are instinct. “Because that’s how I would play it. They’re going to want to keep them close by so that they can use them if need be. I would bet my life on it; they’re here.”
I
am
betting my life. And theirs.
Oscar grimaces. “Let me see if Malcolm can get me more information on this meeting.”
I wait while Oscar texts him. When he finishes, I pose the question I’m almost afraid to ask.
“What do you think Project X is?”
“I’m not sure.”
I don’t buy that for a second. He’s smart. He definitely knows more than he wants to tell me.
“It’s my name. You can’t have missed that.”
“Could be a coincidence.”
“You know there are no coincidences with the Academy.”
“True.”
“Have you heard anything about a Project X?”
He shakes his head. “Not specifically, no. But there have been some other rumors.”
“About what?”
“Super assets.”
I blink.
“The rumor is that the Academy was creating a new breed of assets that were stronger and faster than any before them. Enhanced intelligence, better reflexes, that sort of thing.”
The thing is, when he describes it like that, it doesn’t sound anything like me. Sure I’m the best, but what about the anxiety attacks, the dreams? They don’t make me strong at all. They only make me weak. If anything, Luke is the stronger one between the two of us. But it’s my name on the project. And like I told Oscar, there are no coincidences with the Academy.
“Creating how?”
He hesitates. “The rumor was that these assets were genetically modified to adapt to certain assignments. The Academy was testing them, using environmental and behavioral stimuli to mold them.”
My heart pounds. I remember the Director’s words in my file, the feeling of being under observation, a lab rat in a cage. But if I am supposed to be a “super asset,” then I fear I’m also a giant failure. So why didn’t they just kill me from the beginning? The claustrophobia, all of it, has been with me since I came to the Academy.
“What else do you know?” I ask.
“That’s it.”
My gaze is skeptical.
“I’m telling you the truth. Honestly. I haven’t heard anything else.”
“Do you think I’m one of those assets?”
“After looking at your file? Yeah, I think you could be. Luke, too. You guys were the best at the Academy. Maybe there was a reason for that. There has to be a reason why your files are so full of extra medical information when the others aren’t.”
His phone beeps and Oscar checks the text. “Malcolm says the meeting is going down tonight.”
Finally.
“Find me that house.”
A look of unease flashes in Oscar’s gaze. “I don’t think I’m going to need to do that. Malcolm sent the address.”
###
“This is about as close as I can go without them noticing anything,” Oscar calls out over the radio.
I nod. This plan, if you could loosely call it that, is all Oscar. He scoped out the house in Surrey—estate, really—after a three-hour computer search. He hired the helicopter and agreed to fly me near the estate.
The rest of it is woefully undeveloped.
I’m dressed in black, my body covered in weapons. Oscar gave me a headset so we could communicate while I’m on the ground. The rest is up to me.
The odds that we’re walking into a trap are high. Almost definite. I don’t trust anything coming from Malcolm and this is too easy. But I have to get them out. I have to try. I have nothing else left.
We descend from the sky, surrounded by darkness. I miss the city lights, the noise, the people. Here everything is so quiet and somber; it’s hard not to think I’m landing in my own tomb. I don’t know if my newly minted forgiveness will cover tonight, but I offer a quick prayer to the heavens for us to get out of this alive.
“You’re going to have to jump,” Oscar calls out. “It’s too hard to land here. I’ll double back and meet you guys farther away.”
I start to get out of the seat. Oscar turns and his gaze collides with mine.
“Good luck.”
“Thanks. If I’m not out in an hour, leave.” Oscar opens his mouth to protest, but I cut him off. “I’m serious. Don’t wait for us. Luke wouldn’t want you hurt, too.”
He gives me a clipped nod.
I head toward the chopper’s opening, staring down at the ground below. The drop is only a few feet, but the mere thought of it has my stomach in knots. This actually isn’t my first time jumping out of a helicopter, or even my tenth, but all of those other times were practice at the Academy and each one sent me into the same tailspin of fear. This time the jump is everything.
Be brave.
I step out of the chopper, hit the air, and then I’m falling, falling, my parachute opening before my body hits the ground with a soft thud. I roll to my side, struggling to stand, disentangling myself from the chute’s cords. Above me, Oscar pulls the chopper up and takes off into the night.
“You okay there?” Oscar asks over the mic.
“Fine.”
I see the faint glimmer of lights up ahead and I take off running.
###
Four patrol the perimeter.
If there really is some sort of a secret board meeting tonight, security seems rather lax. I learned at an early age that if a mission seems too easy, it probably is.
The house—if you can call it that—is huge. There are cameras on the roof pointing down at various angles of the building. It’s a difficult, if not impenetrable target. Fortunately, I have a secret weapon.
“Four guards,” I whisper into my mic. “Cameras on the roof.”
“Give me a sec,” Oscar answers. “I’m trying to hack into their system now.”
I pray he’s as good as Luke said he is. The longest minute of my life passes before he gives me the all-clear.
I wait, trying to get into the rhythm of the guards. There’s a break—thirty seconds at most—between their movements. Hopefully, it’s enough. Especially if Oscar can disable the cameras.
“On my count,” I hiss through my teeth. There goes the first guard, alert, his weapon drawn. Then the second. And the third. My eyes are glued on the fourth guard, counting time with each step. “Three, two, one.”
I break out into a run, trying as hard as I can to keep my footsteps light. I reach the main house, my body slipping into the shadows.
I grab the lock pick set out of my pocket, fumbling with the lock on one of the large glass doors. I have a minute or two at most before the first guard starts his round again. I open the door with a click, offering up a silent prayer that Oscar managed to disable the alarm.
“Alarm off?”
“Yes.”
“Did you get the cameras?”
“Got ’em. The feed blipped so you shouldn’t be on there. It’ll loop for about half an hour give or take; you’ll be invisible inside the house.”
And just like that, I’m a ghost again.
I close the window behind me gently, staring down at the long hallway in front of me. I don’t know when or why, but somehow I remember this hallway. I hesitate for a beat, memories creeping toward me. The painting on the wall of the old woman looks familiar. The landscape on the opposite wall does, too. And more than my memory, my body seems to be reacting to the hallway on a visceral level. A hum runs though me, a tension beyond the mission I’m on. This hallway means something to me—something from my past.
I’d bet my life on it.
I move quickly, darting in and out of the shadows, careful to keep my back against the wall. I pass several doors, their silhouette just barely outlined by the candles flickering on the walls. The place has an old, gothic feel.
It is not a happy place.
My body is no longer my own; it’s as if I know exactly where I’m going.
Oscar thought this floor was the most likely place where Luke would be based on the background of the picture and the lighting, or something like that. He even guessed the room’s location based on how the sun would shine through the window.
I know I’m in the right place for an entirely different reason.
I stop in front of the door at the end of the hall, its dark wood ominous and foreboding. Something that feels a lot like dread fills me, my feet rooted to the spot. I’ve definitely been here before, and I know without a doubt that Luke is on the other side of that door. I’ve dreamed about this room more times than I can count, and if I’m going to die tonight it seems like a fitting place for it all to end.
My hand grips the knob, my fingers about to turn it when I hear the noise behind me. The sound of footsteps, faint at first, becomes heavier. I whirl around. The hallway is empty, save for voices. They must be coming from the other side.
I slip back into the shadows, into one of the alcoves just off the hall. I pull out the dart gun, careful to not make a sound. I count the steps, fighting the urge to duck my head out and check their progress. Until finally—
I step out of the alcove. My finger hovers on the trigger. One. Two. They both drop with thuds.
I move from my spot, stepping over the two bodies. I crouch down low, searching their pockets quickly, my movements perfunctory. They don’t stir. Oscar said the dart should knock them out for an hour at most. I don’t plan on staying nearly that long.
I grab an earpiece from one of the guards, slipping it into my other ear. All I hear is static.
Something is off. The fear that this is all a trap hits me again, but I’m in too deep now to turn back.
I focus on the doorknob, pushing out the lingering thread of fear that slithers through me. I meet no resistance as I turn the knob. I push open the door, my feet stuck to the ground.
My heart breaks.
###
He’s slumped against a far wall, dried blood covering his face. I rush toward him. At most, I have a few minutes before someone realizes I’ve taken out the guards.
Luke’s head jerks up. A mix of emotions flashes across his face—relief, anger, fear.
“You shouldn’t have come.”
“Don’t talk. We have to get you out of here.”
Luke shakes his head. “Don’t you get it? This is what they wanted. They knew you would come. They wanted you to come after us. They want you.”
Didn’t I already know that?
“Well they can’t have me. Or you.” I pull a knife out of my pocket, slicing at the ties binding his hands and feet. “Where’s Grace?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean?”
“They threw black bags over our heads the second they took us.”
“How many?”
“What?”
“How many were there?”
“Ten.”
They hadn’t been messing around. Even if I had been there, there’s no way Luke and I could have held off ten trained assassins.
“Where is Grace?” I fight to keep the rising panic from my voice.
“I don’t know. We were in the van together. We drove for hours. Definitely out of the city. And then they pulled us out. That was the last time I was with Grace.”
“She has to be here.”
I finish cutting Luke loose. He stands, swaying slightly on his feet. My eyes narrow. His gaze is slightly unfocused, his pupils larger than normal.
“Are you okay?”
He nods, leaning against the wall for support. “They gave me something to sedate me. It’s almost worn off by now.”
Our chances of success were limited when it was Luke and me. Now that he’s basically out of commission? This idea is suicide.
“There’s a helicopter.”
Luke raises an eyebrow.
“I called in a few favors. Mainly Oscar. The chopper’s at the edge of the woods. Do you think you can get there?” I grab a knife and gun out of the bag, passing them to Luke. “Oscar is there waiting for you.”
“I’m not leaving you.”
“No offense, but you’re not exactly helpful right now. I need to find Grace. The best thing you can do is go to safety. I can’t be worrying about you when I need to be focused on finding my sister.”
“I’m not leaving you. Even when I’m not at full speed, you know I’m better than most of the assets at the Academy. You need me.”
“I got this far on my own.” I purposefully don’t mention the continued sense of unease or the fact that I can’t seem to get my feet. This room means something to me. Something I’m afraid to remember and something I can’t seem to forget.
“Look we can waste time fighting about this, or you can just give in and go with me to get your sister. I’m not leaving you.”
“Fine. But if you start to feel dizzy or you think you can’t handle it, you have to go to the helicopter to meet Oscar.”
“Deal.” He motions toward the door. “Let’s get going, then.”
I stay where I am.
“X?”
“There’s something here. I’m not sure what, but I remember being here before. Before I came to the Academy. Do you sense it, too?”
Luke shakes his head, but I don’t miss the fear in his eyes.
The question nearly sticks in my throat. “What did they do to you?”
He shudders slightly, reaching out and wrapping me into the curve of his body. We stay like that for a beat and then Luke releases me. Pain fills his eyes; he doesn’t answer me.
But somehow I know. I know all the ways they can break you. I understand the fear.
“Come on. Let’s go.”
We leave the room together.
###
Something is off.
I’m good. Really good. But this has been too easy.
“Something’s not right,” Luke whispers in my ear.
“I know.”
“This place is empty.”
He’s right. Besides the guards I shot with the dart gun, the house is empty. I turn down another hallway, keeping my body flat against the wall. I peer around the corner.
“This is a trap,” Luke hisses.
I grip my gun tighter, raising it slightly. I motion for Luke to be quiet as I step closer toward a doorway.
My heartbeat kicks up a notch, goose bumps rising over my skin.
“What’re you doing? We need to get out of here. Now. I don’t think Grace is here.”
“Give me a second.”
Some voice inside of me tells me that this is the door I’ve been looking for. I can’t leave until I know what’s behind it.
I push the door open, wincing as a creaking sound fills the silence of the night.
My arm drops to my side, the gun dangling from my hand as I stare over the threshold.
It’s a young girl’s room. The walls are a pale blue color, the bed covered in a soft floral bedspread.
I know that bedspread.
I walk into the room in slow motion, as if pulled in by a tether. Somehow I register Luke behind me, but I can’t hear what he’s saying over the roaring in my ears.
“X?”
I shake my head, horror filling me. Behind me Luke gasps, his body nearly colliding with mine as he comes to a standstill in front of the same wall I can’t stop staring at.
A name is spelled out in brightly colored block letters hanging from the wall. My name—
Alexandra.
“We need to get out of here.”
I ignore Luke, moving closer to the wall, my fingers reaching out to trace the heavy block letters.
“She made this for me,” I murmur, unable to tear my gaze away. The memory fills me with blinding clarity. “My mother made this for me. I helped her paint these.”
Luke steps forward, grabbing my shoulders. “Listen to me. We have to get out of here. You’re not safe.”
I whirl around, facing him. “This was my room. This was my house.”
“You’re not safe here. Please. We have to go.”
I don’t feel right here, in this room. Pieces of it jog my memory. I picked out the bedspread with my mom. Grace and I used to play with the tea set in the corner. But still—when I think about my childhood here, I’m left with gaping holes. And an overwhelming sense of fear I can’t name.
There’s something creepy here, in this room that clearly hasn’t been touched in years—this shrine to a dead girl.
I want to run. This room, everything in it, makes me dizzy and sick. But I can’t run. My limbs are heavy, clumsy. It’s a fight to even move.
“We’re leaving,” Luke snaps, grabbing my arm, pulling me toward the doorway. “This has gone on long enough. Grace isn’t here. This was all a trap.”
I pull away from him, my gaze riveted to the bookshelf across the room. He’s right, of course. I know that now. But I can’t tear my gaze away from the framed picture sitting atop my bookshelf. I walk toward it, horror flooding me.
I hear Luke calling to me, but I block the words out. One sentence runs through my mind on a constant loop, Malcolm’s voice filling my head—
I suspect some were born for it.
I look to be about eight in the picture. I’m sitting on my mother’s lap, my father and Grace next to us. It’s a family photo; we should look happy.
The reality is anything but.
Luke was right; I do have my father’s eyes. But he was also wrong. There’s an evil in my father’s eyes that I hope can never be found in mine. And a chill begins to slide in my bones.
Suddenly, I’m a child again. I can smell the smoke. And the same fear that filled me throughout my childhood—my life as Alexandra—fills me again.
My mother wasn’t afraid of the fire and she wasn’t afraid of dying. She was afraid of my father. She was afraid for us. Afraid of what he would do to us. Afraid of what he had done to me.
Luke stands behind me, his body inches from mine. “X, you need to listen to me. I think your father has Grace.”
Everything stops.
“My father’s dead.” There’s a tremor in my voice. He has to be.
Luke grips my shoulders hard, shaking me. “He’s not. I saw him. I remembered him from when I was younger. He’s very much alive. And I think he’s behind all of this.”
“That’s not possible…” My voice trails off, and for one aching moment, I remember
that
room. Sitting in the same room where I found Luke. Sitting there with my father.
I never stood a chance. My training didn’t start when I came to the Academy. It was always there, always a part of me. It started in this house.
And then I smell the smoke.