Masked (2 page)

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Authors: Janelle Stalder

Tags: #Teen Paranormal

BOOK: Masked
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There was a screeching sound as the lock gave way, a second before the door swung open. Bridgette flung herself out of the small space, right into the arms of a surprised looking Seamus. He swept her hair away from her face, his eyes roaming over her.

“You okay?” he asked.

“I thought I was going to die in there,” she admitted, tears now falling. She buried her face into his chest, taking in deep gulping breaths. The thought of burning alive was still fresh in her mind. Every muscle in her body shook. Seamus stroked her back soothingly.

“I got you now, Bridge,” he said softly. He murmured other reassuring words as she let the stress of the last few hours, or however long it had been, finally wash over her. When she was left hiccupping, all tears now dried up, he leaned back so they could look at each other. “Better?”

She nodded, taking a step away from him. “Is McKay…?”

Seamus smiled. “He’s fine,” he said. “He’s always fine.” Well that was true. Bridgette doubted there was very much that could bring her friend down. If anyone could survive an attack from the New World army, it would be him. “We need to get you out of here though. There’s one boat waiting for us.” He grabbed her hand and turned to go before she could gather her wits about her. Before they reached the door, she pulled back on his hold, forcing them both to a stop.

“I have to go check on my family,” she said.

A look passed over his face that sent dread to her gut. “Bridge…”

“I have to,” she insisted. “I need to make sure they’re okay.”

He turned to face her fully, his expression sombre. “Bridge, they burned almost all the homes. There’s nothing left to see here.”

“So I should just walk away without even checking? What kind of person would that make me?”

“Smart,” he said. “You have no idea what you could be walking into.” He stepped closer to her, his hands landing on her shoulders. “There are some things in life that cannot be forgotten, Bridge. Once you’ve seen them, there’s no erasing that memory.”

She should have listened. She should have known better. But she didn’t, and instead she walked around him without another word and rushed up the stairs to the upper level. The restaurant was completely destroyed. Half the building still smoldered from the fire, the walls and furniture now black and scorched. Bridgette didn’t stand there long, knowing it was only a matter of time before Seamus got fed up with her stubbornness and took other measures to force her onto that boat. She really didn’t want to be thrown over his shoulder and carried down to the water.

It didn’t help that she
hated
boats and being out on the water. Just the thought made her stomach roll. Stepping outside was like stepping into another world. The city she had once known was no longer recognizable. Buildings still burned, the air filled with smoke and the scent of destruction. No one walked the streets. No children played and laughed; their bikes and soccer balls now forgotten on the streets.

Bridgette would have stopped to vomit right then, but she knew she had to move quickly. She swallowed her sickness and began to run. There were no soldiers in sight as she made her way to her home, her feet slapping loudly against the pavement. Her ears were filled with the sounds of her harsh breathing, overriding the sound of wood crackling as more homes and businesses succumbed to the flames.

As she rounded the corner onto her street, her steps slowed. There had been a small part of her that had hoped her street wouldn’t resemble the ones she had just passed. That hope was dashed as her eyes took in the sight before her. Almost all of the homes were completely burned to the ground. A few had a couple of walls still remaining, and nothing else. She walked toward her home, her heart growing heavier with each step.

When she paused on what had been her doorstep, the weight of it all brought her to her knees. She knelt in the ashes, sharp objects digging into her skin, though she hardly noticed. Her vision blurred as she looked at the remnants of what used to be her home. Everything she had known was now nothing but a pile of black, unrecognizable devastation.

Had her mother and sister been home when this happened? Did they get out? Her throat closed around the immovable lump lodged in it. Her breath was coming harder now, her hands shook with the terror of it. She stumbled as she tried to get up, making her way over the heaps of destruction.

Her steps halted the second she saw it. Just a corner peeked out from beneath what must have once been the ceiling, but she recognized it immediately. The same fabric as the shirt her mother had been wearing that morning.

She looked just slightly to the left and the vomit she’d been fighting came up without warning. Bridgette braced her hands on her knees as everything in her stomach left her. There was no mistaking what she had just seen. The burnt flesh of her mother’s arm seared itself into her mind’s eye. Seamus had been right – some things would never be forgotten.

Closing her eyes for a split second to regain her composure, she straightened again, looking for anything that would tell her of her sister’s fate. She kept her eyes away from the spot where her mother’s body rested. She walked a bit further, pushing at things with her foot. As she moved something that was too charred to identify, she saw it. Glittering in all the darkness, like the first star to appear at night, was her sister’s cross that she had always worn.

Bridgette’s knees hit the ground before she knew what was happening. With shaky hands, she reached out and picked up the necklace, holding it tightly against her chest. She rocked there, her tears flowing freely from her eyes. They were gone. Really and truly gone. She had no idea where her father was, but something inside her knew he was not there. He was not part of this wreckage. No, he was probably somewhere safe. Bridgette wasn’t naïve. She knew her father had participated in dealings that were set against the new leader and his army. She had just always turned a blind eye to it. She hadn’t wanted any part in whatever it was that he had gotten involved with, but she knew now that it had saved him from this.

How long she remained rocking there, ashes and dirt surrounding her, she didn’t know. It wasn’t until strong hands clamped down on her arms and lifted her easily into theirs that she came back from wherever she’d been. She looked up into familiar green eyes, filled with sorrow.

“I’m so sorry, Bridge,” McKay said, his arms the only thing holding her together. She nodded, unable to form words anymore. He held her for a while before he finally spoke again. “It’s time to go.” This time she didn’t fight. This time she didn’t rush off to the unknown. This time she just went, leaving behind everything from her previous life, and all of her hope with it.

CHAPTER ONE

5 years later…

New Berlin, 2040

Bridgette pressed her back against the door, her breath quick, heart pounding.
Smooth, Bridge. Real smooth
, she thought. Footsteps stopped just outside the door. She could hear his breathing through the wood. Bridgette bit her lip beneath the mask she now wore, waiting for what would happen next.

“Lottey?” he called out. There was a small thump from the other side, and when he spoke again his voice sounded closer and slightly muffled, like he was resting his forehead against the door. “Look, I know you’re mad at me, and you have every right to be,” he started.

Charlotte was mad at him? A sliver of hope spread through her chest. If her sister was mad at him, it would make Bridgette’s job a heck of a lot easier. Roman Adamson was not only the second in command of the New World order, but he also happened to be the sexiest man Bridgette had ever seen. It made coherent thought difficult around him, and right now she needed all her wits on full alert. If she was going to pull off this disguise of her younger sister, Charlotte, who she had discovered was still alive, she couldn’t afford to make any mistakes. Especially around the man standing outside her room. Well, Charlotte’s room, but for now it was hers.

What I have gotten myself into?
She asked herself for the millionth time since she’d agreed to do this. If it hadn’t been for the fact that her evil, sadistic
father
was holding her sister captive, there was no way Bridgette would have been doing anything to help the rebels. She’d long ago decided to make the best out of the new life she’d been forced to live, and that meant no involvement with the group of men set on destroying the new government. Considering her father was their leader, she
definitely
hadn’t wanted any part in this. But once again life had thrown her a curveball in the form of her sister, and she was forced to play along. At least until she planted the bomb.

Her back felt sticky with sweat beneath the fabric of the uniform she wore. All she wanted to do was strip out of it, pull off the mask her sister had been wearing for the last five years – how Charlotte had stood it, she had no idea – and take off the boots that were a size too small and pinching the crap out of her toes. Instead she had to deal with Roman, who had caught her in the hall. And of course, Bridgette had done the first thing that had come to mind, which happened to be to turn and run like an idiot, locking herself inside this room.

Again, real smooth, Bridge. Shut up
, she told herself. What else could she have done? Stood there and had a conversation with him? Sure, eventually she’d have no choice. She just wasn’t expecting to have to do it within her first ten minutes of being in the headquarters.

“I know you’ll probably never forgive me,” Roman was saying. Forgive him for what? She wondered. What had he done to her sister? Anger simmered inside her. No one hurt her sister. “Just, please know that I truly am sorry if I’ve messed things up for you. It’s the last thing I would ever want.”

Her entire body stilled at the remorse she heard in his voice. Did Roman have
feelings
for Charlotte? Why did that make her feel sick just thinking about it? No, there was no way. Charlotte was in love with Bridgette’s best friend, Pete McKay. She hadn’t said as much, but you’d have to be blind not to see it when they looked at each other. She had no doubt Pete was working to find Charlotte even now. At least, she hoped he was. The longer Charlotte stayed with their dad, the greater the chance she’d get hurt. Her sister did not know how to shut her mouth, and their father had zero patience.

Bridgette shuddered at the thought of how her sister had looked the last time she had seen her – beaten and bloody, their father standing to the side watching it all. She needed to accomplish what she was here to do – fast. Then she needed to get back to her sister and away from all of this.

“Look, I know you don’t want to see me right now,” Roman said, jarring her back to the situation at hand, “but Ludwig’s been looking for us both. I told him you weren’t feeling well, but I can’t put him off any longer. I need you to come with me to his office.”

Crap. Crap, crap, crap. Roman was bad enough, but Ludwig? That was just a disaster waiting to happen. Bridgette was terrified of the New World leader, who was responsible for destroying more than half the world’s population with his bombs and war. What if he saw through her right away? Charlotte had been in their camp for five years. Long enough for them to recognize all her little quirks and know if things seemed “off”. Bridgette needed to bring her A-game, and she wasn’t quite sure if she even had one.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped back from the door, wincing at the pain in her feet. The first thing she was going to do tomorrow was demand new boots. She didn’t care if it looked odd that her feet had gone up a size overnight, there was no way she was walking around in these boots for the next couple of weeks. She was there to plant a bomb when the arms dealers came to visit, which meant she’d have to play Charlotte for quite a while yet. Her feet were not going to survive.

She opened the door slowly, readying herself for the next step in this ridiculous plot. Her plan had been to practice her voice and mannerisms tonight, so she was ready tomorrow, but it looked like there wouldn’t be time for that. Thankfully Bridgette had a good ear for tone. It probably had a lot to do with her vocal training. She knew how Charlotte spoke. It was softer, smoother than her own voice. Bridgette always spoke a little huskier than her younger sister, but she had faith in herself that she’d be able to pull this off.

As soon as her eyes met Roman’s, all the breath left her. All thoughts of courage disappeared under his stare. He was just so handsome. His eyes were a deep blue, his skin a flawless bronze, dark hair flowed to his shoulders. Shoulders that were massive and intimidating, and yet she wanted to be snuggled into them with those thick arms wrapped around her.

Snap out of it!
She scolded herself. Her eyes had been making their own journey down the front of him. She shot them back up to look at his face, thankful for the first time that she wore a mask to hide the flush on her cheeks. He was watching her too, closely enough to cause the flush to spread down the rest of her body.

He thinks you’re Charlotte, she reminded herself. Was his look one of lust, or concern for whatever he’d done to her? She couldn’t tell. Bridgette motioned with her head for him to lead the way, not trusting her voice just yet. The silent treatment – the most effective weapon of women to be used against men when they were pissed. She was going to use it to her full advantage.

He sighed loudly, his shoulders drooping a bit. Then he spun around and started down the hall. Bridgette hurried to keep up. She had no idea where Ludwig’s office was in this building, so she couldn’t afford to get left behind. They walked in silence, with her just a bit behind him. She tried her best, but her eyes kept looking to him, watching the way his body moved as he walked. Every step was controlled, purposeful. Every shift in his muscles screamed of strength and power. She’d never met a man quite like him. He demanded respect and attention. Well, he certainly had hers, and that wasn’t good.

Finally they came to a set of double doors. Roman opened them, standing back to let her enter first. She kept her gaze away from his as she walked by. The heat off his body had her swaying a bit, but she forced herself to keep going.

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