The Vanishing Girl
Author: Laura Thalassa
Date: 2014-02-26 05:00:00+00:00
Keywords: New Adult; Romance; Fantasy; Science Fiction; Paranormal; Young Adult; Dystopia; Fiction; Coming Of Age; Urban Fantasy
Description: ***Due to language, violence, and sexual situations, this new adult book is recommended for mature audiences.***Every night after Ember Pierce falls asleep, she disappears. She can teleport anywhere in the world—London, Paris, her crush’s bedroom—wherever her dreams lead her. Ten minutes is all she gets, and once time’s up, she returns to her bed. It's a secret she’s successfully kept for the last five years. But now someone knows.A week after her eighteenth birthday, when frustratingly handsome Caden Hawthorne captures her, delivers her to the government, and then disappears before her eyes,

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Epilogue

Chapter 1

“Can you fix it?” I asked.

“Sister, what did you do to yourself?” I felt the tattoo artist trace his fingers over the thin warped lines that were newly etched onto my shoulder blade. They branched and twisted like a tangled mess of roots.

“I have no idea,” I muttered. The dark, grotesque lines showed up this morning, and I had no memory of how they got there.

“I’ve had a few of those nights myself,” he said knowingly.

He had jumped to the wrong conclusion, but I nodded anyway. A drunken mistake was an easier explanation than the truth.

“So you think you’ll be able to fix this?” I asked.

“Oh yeah, this is an easy fix. The hard part is choosing what you want to cover it with.” He ran his hand over the markings again. “Why’d your guy stop anyway?”

I shrugged. “He ran out of time.”

Seven hours later I walked out of the tattoo parlor with a bottle of salve and the image of two large, folded angel wings that ran from my shoulder blades to the small of my back.

I’m so dead.

My parents were going to kill me. I’ll just tell them it was an eighteenth birthday present to myself.

The tattoo was never meant to be so extensive, but I needed the shading and fine details that the angel wings offered to cover up the strange inky markings that had shown up out of thin air. Shown up the day after my eighteenth birthday without a memory to accompany them.

I gingerly maneuvered my way onto the MUNI bus, wincing as my aching flesh brushed the back of the plastic seat I sat down in.

I’d emptied most of my bank account for this thing and experienced hell to get it. But it had been worth it.

The cramped houses of San Francisco’s Mission District slid by as the bus pulled away from the stop.

I’d need to go back in for the last of the detailing, but the tattoo artist had been fast. And, from the beautiful, arching curves of the feathers, he’d done phenomenal work.

Not that I cared. I just wanted to hide those twisting lines, evidence that something unexplainable had happened to me last night.

When I got home, my mom was running around the kitchen. Lined along the counter were a number of baked goods—racks of cookies, two cakes, and a pie. From the smell of it, she’d just finished another batch of cookies. Stress baking. This was her coping mechanism. Something was making her nervous.

“Hey Mom,” I said casually, swiping a peanut butter cookie from the counter.

“Oh, hey Ember.” With the back of her arm she wiped the beads of sweat gathering on her forehead. “How was shopping with Ava?” Her voice rose as she asked the question.

Instantly I was alert. I glanced from the cookie in my hand to her. I couldn’t tell whether she’d figured out that I wasn’t shopping with my best friend today. “Good,” I said cautiously. “Is everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine,” she said, her tone clipped.

She was lying. It was all over her face and in her tone.

“If you say so. I’m going to go to my room to study.”

She stared at me for a long moment, before nodding. Did she somehow know about my tattoo?

Naw. I discarded the thought as I walked to my room. That wasn’t my mom’s strategy. She was too confrontational to toy with me.

I gently slid my backpack from my shoulder, careful not to hurt the still tender flesh. Though I could hear my mom banging around the kitchen, I locked the door just to be safe before I removed my shirt.

My back was a mass of red puffy skin; it looked angry, and it had good reason to. I’d had to sit in the tattoo parlor for hours and grit my teeth as the artist stuck needles into my skin. But it was worth it. The markings had been successfully camouflaged.

I threw on a loose shirt, plopped down into my desk chair, and began reading for class. Anything to distract me from contemplating how I received the strange twisting lines on my shoulder last night, or how I was going to keep my new tattoo a secret.

Three hours later, after reading the same sentence four times over, I set my textbook aside and got ready for bed. For a long time I lay there and stared at my ceiling, wondering where I’d go tonight once I fell asleep. Maybe I’d get lucky and send myself to some nice beach. Hopefully it was the beach, rather than teleporting into the ocean, like last week. That was one of my more unpleasant journeys.

At the back of my mind I worried that maybe I’d no longer remember my ten-minute trips. If I couldn’t remember last night’s, then how could I be certain I would remember tonight’s?

And then there was the beautiful thought that maybe—just maybe—eighteen meant an end to my nocturnal excursions.

Of course, some wishes were too good to be true.

The lights were pleasantly dim, and the low thrum of music pulsated throughout the room. I looked down at the tight red dress and dangerously high stilettos I wore. I held onto a small clutch.

Definitely not the beach.

Inwardly I shrugged, making my way over to the bar. Even after five years, I had very little control over my destination.

I got a couple of suspicious glances from people who probably saw me materialize. Within a few minutes they’d successfully rationalize away what they saw. Until I disappeared.

I slid onto a barstool.

The bartender came over. “What can I get you this evening?”

“Hmmmm …” I feigned indecision. I had no idea what there was to order. I didn’t have much prior exposure to bars, in spite of my ability.

A man slid into the seat next to me. “I’d recommend the Molotov Cocktail.”

I turned and my breath caught. Dark hair framed a strong jaw, high cheekbones, and mesmerizing green eyes. Devastatingly handsome. That’s what Ava and I called men like this. And now one was talking to me.

I had to jog my mind to remember what he’d said. Oh, ordering a Moltov Cocktail.

I raised my eyebrows. “Sounds dangerous.” Back home, in my real life, I’d never be so bold and daring, but knowing I’d only have to stick around for ten minutes allowed me to be someone else for a little while. And right now I wanted to be the girl who knew how to handle gorgeous men.

To the bartender I said, “I’ll take what he suggested.”

There was no way my mind brought me here. Normally I ended up stranded naked in a crowd, or trapped inside some utility closet. Getting to wear a sexy outfit and being hit on by Mr. GQ was just too nice a fate.

The man held out his hand. “Adrian Sumner.”

“Ember Pierce,” I said, taking the hand he offered.

“So,” the corner of his mouth tugged upwards, “why have I never seen you before?”

I laughed and rolled my eyes. “You really need to work on your pick-up lines.”

Now both corners of his mouth lifted. “That wasn’t a pick-up line. This is my party.”

Oh. Well crap.

“I came with a friend,” I lied. My fingers itched to do something. When it came to teleporting, picking locks, gathering data from my surroundings, or implementing my survival skills was so much more immediately gratifying than this. Charming my way out of a situation.

“Who’s your friend?” he asked, looking out at the sea of people.

I took in the mixed crowd of the old and wealthy and the young and beautiful.

I swallowed and pointed in the vague direction of a group of models. “I’m friends with her.”

“Who?” he asked.

I said the first name that came to mind. “Natasha.”

He looked at where my finger was pointing. “You mean Sue?”

The jig was up. “I could’ve sworn she was a Natasha—she looks like a Natasha.”

He assessed the woman we were discussing.

“Are you going to kick me out?” I asked. “Because I want to warn you that I’m not leaving until I get my Molotov Cocktail.”

He smiled. “Well, I wouldn’t want to kick out a woman armed with that drink.”

And, as if on cue, the bartender came over with the cocktail. “That’ll be fifteen dollars.”

I winced at the price. It was only then that I realized I had no idea if I even had money—or a fake ID—in my clutch.

“Just a moment,” I said, opening my bag.

To my dismay there was no money. In fact, there were only two things in the bag, a piece of paper and a dark, heavy object.

I pulled out the paper and read the scribbled note:

Adrian Sumner needs to die.

I released the paper as though it singed me.

I hadn’t known Adrian up until a few minutes ago, so how could I have arrived with such a note?

Both the bartender and Adrian stared at me.

“I, uh, forgot my wallet. I’m sorry.” I clasped my hands together to stop them from shaking.

“No worries,” Adrian said. “I’ve got this one—because I appreciate fiery women.” He winked. I smiled, still immensely disturbed by the note.

To the bartender he said, “Go ahead and put this one on the tab.”

The bartender left us, and I took a deep breath to calm my racing heart. “Thanks,” I said.

“No problem.” He smiled, and my chest tightened at the sight. “So, how did you hear about my party?”

I opened my mouth to reply, when I realized just what the dark, heavy object was that rested in my clutch. A gun.

I let out a surprised squeak.

“Are you okay?” Adrian asked. The same Adrian that I was supposed to kill, according to the slip of paper.

Heart racing, I stumbled backward. “I need to go.” Ten minutes was—as usual—way too long for the predicament I was in.

“Wait,” Adrian said.

I paused and regretted it as soon as I saw what Adrian was doing.

He bent down and picked up the slip of paper I’d dropped earlier. “You forgot your note,” he said.

His eyes glanced down at the paper, and his expression changed. “What is this?” He looked up at me. “Is this a sick joke?”

I was already moving through the crowd.

“Wait!” he called from behind me.

I pushed my way to the dance floor, where the packed bodies and strobe lights would better hide me.

“Stop her!” Adrian yelled from behind me.

I felt some half-hearted grabs at me, but I easily shook them off. A very firm hand wrapped around my wrist. I turned to see Adrian.

“Who are you?” he asked.

I never had to answer the question because I winked out, along with the strobe lights.

Chapter 2

It wasn’t until breakfast the next morning that I remembered teleporting. I nearly choked on the milk and cereal in my mouth as I replayed the last ten lucid minutes of my day.

My mind grappled with the note and the gun. How had I known his name? I was positive I’d never met Adrian before. I wouldn’t have forgotten a face like that.

And was I supposed to kill him? It was inexplicable. But maybe I was asking the wrong questions. Because when it came down to it, wasn’t it inexplicable that I could teleport at all?

I arrived at school distracted and restless.

“Hey loser!” Ava, my best friend, called as we met up before class. “Let’s see the tat!” A group of girls threw a disgusted glance my way.

“Could you try to be a little more discreet?” I asked, smiling sweetly at the girls.

“Who cares?” she said, brushing a fiery red lock of hair behind her ear. The girl was a force of nature, and like all forces of nature, she was awe-inspiring, but sometimes destructive.

“I’d like my parents to not know about my tattoo, and that’s not going to happen if Cindy Knickerbaum finds out,” I said, nodding my head at the retreating group of girls. Cindy threw a glance back my way.

Ava rolled her eyes. “Cindy Knickerbaum is not going to say anything. You guys are barely acquaintances at this point. Now, can I see it?”

I rolled my eyes and smiled in spite of myself. “Okay, but only for a moment.”

We walked behind the woodshop class in a discreet corner of campus and I lifted the back of my shirt.

Ava squealed. “Holy shit! That looks awesome! I’m so getting one now!” She pulled out her phone and took a picture of the wings before I could cover myself back up.

I groaned. There was no way I was going to get away with this.

“Ember Elizabeth Pierce!” my mom called out to me as soon as I arrived home that afternoon. Only she could manage to make my name sound like a swear word.

I turned from where I was putting down my school bags to face my mother’s furious face in my bedroom doorway.

She knew about the tattoo. She didn’t have to say anything. This was my reliably confrontational mother.

Freaking Cindy Knickerbaum squealed. She was also reliable like that.

My mother’s hazel eyes were flinty. She stomped over to me. “Where is it?”

There was no use arguing or denying at this point. I turned my back to her and lifted my shirt.

My mother gasped at what could only be a scary sight, though I wasn’t sure whether it was from the extent of the tattoo, which covered over half my back, or the swollen skin.

My mother began to choke up. “You defiled yourself!”

“Mom—” I began. I really did not want to have to console my mother about what I did to my own body.

“How could you do this to yourself?” Her anger replaced her remorse.

I couldn’t tell her the real reason. I’d rather she, and everyone else, think I was eccentric. At least it was a socially acceptable way to be strange. If someone had seen the strange lines before I had a chance to cover them up, they might start asking questions I couldn’t answer.

I held back a sigh. “Mom, I don’t have an explanation you’re going to want to hear.”

Her eyes took me in for a long moment. “Sometimes I wonder how much of me is actually in you,” she said. With that she shook her head and left the room.

I waited until she shut the door to allow my eyelids to pinch together.

This wasn’t the first time she’d said those words to me, but it never got easier to hear. But the worst thing wasn’t that I broke a little bit of my mother’s heart each time she said so. No, it was the reminder that, sometimes, when I looked in the mirror, I wasn’t sure even I knew the girl staring back.

During the week that followed, I was transported to my typical nightly destinations. The highlight of the week was materializing on a cruise ship. I spent ten minutes eating from their outdoor buffet and watching the sunset somewhere around the Hawaiian islands. The worst night was appearing in my grandmother’s dusty old attic. Correction, my deceased grandmother’s old attic. I had no idea who lived there now.

The problem with teleporting during the first ten minutes of sleep—a problem I’d had since puberty—was that my budding dreams directed me to my destination. I’d had nights where I’d fall asleep thinking about the cute guy at school and then teleport into his bedroom (talk about awkward). By sheer luck my crush had always been asleep.

I’d also once had a falling dream morph into a disturbing reality. Thankfully the one time I materialized in midair I fell into a tree on my way down. I’d managed to wrap my arms around the branches and held on for dear life.

So I found it incredibly ironic that as I lay in bed the following Sunday, I dreaded showing up in some swanky club wearing a sexy dress just as much as I did waking up falling. Because the last time that happened, I came with a gun and instructions to kill.

The room I was in was dark, and the only door in and out was closed. The night sky beyond the window told me that I was still on the western hemisphere.

I stretched my arms above my head. Sometimes teleporting made my muscles stiff, as if whatever put me back together stitched my cells a little too snugly.

Bookshelves along the walls held large academic tomes. A leather chair sat behind an imposing desk. I was in someone’s study.

I looked down at my wardrobe. I wore a black skintight shirt and leggings tucked into soft leather boots. Sticking out quite obviously from one of my boots was a folded slip of paper.

I plucked it from where it rested.

57 84 11 60 39

I stared at the note’s numbers, trying to figure out their meaning. After wasting a minute ruminating over their logical connection, I stuck the note back in my boot. This was the second time in a week I’d found a note on my person. At least this time it was a benign set of numbers.

I wandered around the room, pulling out books and reading their spines. Quantum physics, genomics, biological engineering. This room’s owner was not interested in light reading.

I moved on to the desk. The surface was bare, save for a paperweight. It seemed odd that a person who liked such complex subjects would have such a barren desk. Either he was majorly OCD, or this office wasn’t being used.

I pulled out the desk drawers, one after another. There wasn’t much inside them, which made me think that whoever owned this stuff hadn’t worked in this room in a long while—if ever.

It was as I turned away from the desk that I saw a safe set into the wall behind it. To the right of the safe was a keypad. I pulled the note out of my boot.

Could this be the logic behind the numbers? There was a chance that if I imputed the wrong numbers an alarm would be triggered. I however, probably wouldn’t be around long enough to find out either way.

Carefully, I typed each number into the keypad. Once I was finished, the safe let out a long beep and the safe’s door released.

The hair on the nape of my neck stood on end. That should not have worked.

I studied the note I held. The calligraphy was wrong. This wasn’t my handwriting. In fact, it looked eerily similar to the first note I’d found in my clutch a week ago.

I glanced down at my outfit. The black shirt and leggings I wore were not something I’d ever pick out for myself.

This entire scenario felt orchestrated. And, now that I thought about it, so did the club I’d found myself in a week ago. I couldn’t explain how that was possible, but the more I thought it over, the more certain I was.

Which probably meant that the mastermind behind tonight’s destination also teleported me to the club last week.

For a moment, all I felt was relief. I wasn’t psychic and sadistic after all.

Then anxiety took over. This was not an accident.

Someone knows I can teleport. And now, somehow, that someone had harnessed my ability. Goosebumps broke out along my skin. If this wasn’t my doing, then I was being directed like a puppet to my destination.

Inside the safe sat a stack of simple black notebooks. On top of these rested three identical stones. All were about an inch in length and cut in a similar fashion as the quartz crystals from my childhood rock collection. Only these stones were a dark chrome color and highly polished.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

I spun to face the voice.

I recognized the dark hair and beautiful features. Adrian.

“You?” I said before I could stop myself. He stood in the doorway, looking equally shocked.

His mouth worked, trying unsuccessfully to form words. I had the distinct impression he was trying to decide what the most appropriate thing to say was. After all, how do you react to a girl who crashed your party, carried evidence that she intended to kill you, and then vanished into thin air only to return a week later to break into your safe?

Finally he spoke. “How are you possible?”

“What?” How was I supposed to answer that?

His disbelief slowly melted away, and I watched his face register that this impossible series of events was actually happening. I could empathize with the emotion, except for the small fact that I was in deep. Real deep. Attempted murder and attempted robbery were no light offenses. And now my fingerprints were all over the most damning evidence.

He closed the door and stalked towards me. I backed away cautiously as he came closer. Jumping out the window was out of the question. From this height cars resembled Hot Wheels.

But my ten minutes had to be nearly up. I was safe so long as he didn’t try to kill me.

He rounded the desk and invaded my personal space. I held my hands up in the universal sign of surrender.

“What is going on here?” he asked.

“Believe me, I have no idea,” I said.

“That’s funny,” he cocked his head, “I don’t believe you at all.” He pushed me hard into the wall.

I grunted on impact. “Fine, be a dick.” The words slipped out.

“I’m a dick? You’re the one with the hit list.”

When would I  get out of here?

“Fine. Don’t believe me,” I said. “After all, why should you trust a girl who can disappear?”

“Exactly,” he said, “Wait—?”

But his question came too late. Thankfully. I felt the tingly sensation that signaled the end of another ten-minute excursion a split second before the scene vanished.

The memory surfaced as I was in the shower the next morning. I swore loudly. The tattoo was nothing compared to the kind of trouble I was in now.

Chapter 3

Class was almost unbearable. I couldn’t pay attention to the lessons today, my body taut with so much anxiety. I was hyperaware of my surroundings, prepared for the police to burst in at any second to haul me off to jail.

Throughout Anatomy I convinced myself I had a solid alibi—Ava and my parents could firmly place me here, in San Francisco, on both days I visited Adrian.

But two periods later in Calculus, I silently freaked out. Adrian could very well live in San Francisco or within driving distance of the city, meaning that it was possible to get to his place from my house should they lift the fingerprints that I’d so idiotically left on the safe. That was an amateur move; I knew better.

By the middle of Government, I was a hot mess. Why did I have to be cursed with the freakish ability to teleport? It had done nothing but threaten my life, embarrass me, and now it had gotten me into this mess.

And who else knew about my ability? I’d never mentioned it to anyone. That was the most disturbing question of all.

Mr. Culver, meanwhile, droned on. “Congress’s legislative powers balance the executive branch and the judicial branch. They, in turn, balance—”

The classroom phone began ringing. I braced my hands along the edge of my desk, not caring that my knuckles were turning white or that the girl sitting next to me was shooting me strange looks.

“One moment,” said a disgruntled Mr. Culver. He hated interruptions that broke up his lessons.

“Hello?” He paused. “Oh, hi Cynthia,” another pause, and then he scanned the room. His eyes came to rest on me. “Yeah, she’s here.”

My heart hammered in my chest.

“Okay, I’ll send her in.”

This was it.

He hung up the phone. “Ember, pack your bags and head to the office.”

Around me kids whispered.

“Ember’s in trouble,” someone murmured.

Tremors ran through my body as I picked up my bags and left the room. I practiced breathing techniques—more to prevent myself from vomiting than to calm myself down.

My mom waited for me in the office. Her eyes were red. She’d been crying.

“Mom?”

“Hey Ember, let’s get you home.” Her voice shook, and my heart sped up further.

The office secretary’s eyes darted between us curiously. My mom must not have mentioned exactly why she was picking me up.

We were silent as we walked to the car. I could guess what was going on, but I had no idea why my mother and not the cops were picking me up. I was smart enough not to say anything until I knew the full situation, so I stayed quiet while my mother sniffled next to me.

As soon as we got into my mom’s Honda, her words came rushing out. “Ember, there’s a lot I need to explain in a short amount of time.” A couple tears dripped down her face. “I’m not sure how to start …”

This was not how the situation was supposed to play out. Not at all. I was supposed to be confessing to her, not the other way around.

“Do you remember your father and me telling you that you were our miracle baby?” she asked.

I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion and nodded. I vaguely remembered the story, but I had no idea why now of all times we were taking a walk down memory lane.

“Well,” she continued, pulling the car out of the parking lot as she spoke, “we both wanted a child for years before you came along, but it never happened. And as we grew increasingly more desperate, we began going to fertility clinics, trying everything from artificial insemination—”

I crinkled my nose. I’d already gone to Anatomy for the day—this was really pushing my comfort limit.

“—to a surrogate mother. Nothing worked. Then we found a government sponsored fertility program. They subsidized the treatment cost, so we didn’t have to pay a thing. Their only condition was that, if the treatment was successful, the child was required to enlist in the military for a minimum of two years.”

I gasped at her words, a disturbing thought beginning to take shape.

“We convinced ourselves that enlisting for a couple years wasn’t so bad, and we felt like the odds of us conceiving were so remote that we went for it.” She pulled in a lungful of air. “And then you came. Our miracle.” Her words sighed out of her.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” I was too shocked to be furious. How could they keep such a secret from me?

My mother looked guilty. “The clinic told us that if the program was shut down, you would not be obligated to enlist. A few years after you were born, we heard that the program lacked the necessary funding, and it went under.”

I was hesitantly hopeful. “So, then I don’t have to serve in the military?”

I couldn’t even fathom being a soldier. Besides being allergic to taking orders, I didn’t think I had what it took to kill or seriously injure someone. My mind flashed to the club and the gun in my purse. At least one person thought I did.

My mom began crying.

I understood what she couldn’t bear to say. And in that moment I felt sorry for both her and me. Because we both knew my future was no longer my own. Somehow the program had received the funding it needed, and I was required to serve the government.

I took to staring out the window for the rest of the car ride, my mother’s voice mostly white noise. Every once in awhile an explanation would drift in.

“The we feared the program had started back up …”

“… why we moved so much …”

“… they’re recruiting you today.”

This last statement snapped me back to attention. “They’re recruiting me today?”

My mom nodded. “That’s why I pulled you out of class. Agents are waiting for you at the house as we speak. Everyone thought it best that I explain the situation to you before—”

“I don’t even get to say goodbye to Ava?” My voice caught.

My mom shook her head. “I’m so sorry Ember.”

My current situation was only slightly better than getting hauled off to jail. But even with the unfairness of it all, I wasn’t sure who to be angry at. My parents—who were desperate and selfish enough to bargain their child’s future away? Or the government who exploited a couple’s weakness?

The car slowed as my mom turned onto our street. Parked in front of our house were several black SUVs.

My mom pulled into our driveway, and I jumped out of the car, slinging my backpack over my shoulder. I had to find my dad. We understood each other in a way my mom and I never could.

I barreled into my house. Five government officials milled about our living room, clearly waiting for me. My dad sat on our couch, rubbing his forehead. He and everyone else looked up as the door slammed behind me.

A quick glance at the officials’ tailored suits, smooth hair, and ear pieces told me that there was more to my recruitment than my parents knew or let on.

“Hey kiddo,” my dad said, his voice tired.

I ran into his arms like I did when I was five, not caring that I was making a scene. He held me tightly.

“I love you Ember Bug,” he whispered into my ear. “Please forgive your mother and me.”

I swallowed. I had hoped he would tell me this was all a horrible misunderstanding. Instead, his words diffused my rising anger, replacing it with a more worrisome emotion—acceptance.

“Ember Pierce,” a voice from behind me spoke.

I turned and faced the official who said my name.

“You’re finally here. I’m Dane Richards, head of the Generation Project.” I took the hand he offered.

Dane Richards was a tall, middle-aged man with a hawk-like appearance. His dark eyes were framed by thick, arching black eyebrows, making him appear nefarious. His sharp nose and full lips intensified his already striking features. Age had hardened the lines around his mouth, between his eyes, and along his forehead.

I could already tell he was going to make my life miserable.

He gestured to the other officials standing around. “This is Agent Payne, Fields, Kjar, and Griswold,” he said in quick succession. There was no way I was going to remember their names.

“So,” Dane continued, “Your mother told you about what’s going on?”

“Briefly.” I nodded, eyeing the front door. She hadn’t come inside. My bet was that she was still sitting in the car crying.

“Great,” he clasped his hands together and looked around the room. “Well, then pack your bags and let’s head out.”

I stared incredulously at him. “Right now?” This chain of strange and horrifying events was almost unbelievable. I had only been called to the office an hour ago.

He glanced at his watch. “Well, within the next thirty minutes. You have a long trip ahead of you.”

I looked at my father, searching for some sign that this crazy turn of events wasn’t real. My father’s shoulders were slumped; he looked like a man defeated.

But his eyes, his eyes said something else. They flicked to the front door, then back to me. In them was an unspoken command. Run.

Despite my father’s warning, I didn’t run, not immediately. Instead I calmly walked to my room. But as soon as I closed the door behind me, I dumped out the contents of my backpack and began stuffing it with necessities. I threw my wallet and phone in there. I’d need to dump the smartphone soon, since I could be tracked with it, but there were phone numbers I’d need to copy over before I did so.

Then I emptied the cash I always stashed away in a lock box. Three hundred dollars. I knew the amount without having to count it. Not much, but enough to get me out of the city.

Next to the lock box was a bag full of survival gear—a compass, a hand powered flashlight, a water filter, a fire starter kit, a wool blanket, some dried food, a book on wild plant food, a Swiss Army knife, and a first aid kit. I knew how to use them all, though my life had never depended on them the way it might now.

I’d prepared myself for a situation like this. My ability to teleport was unique enough that if someone found out about it, I knew I might have to run. I’d accepted that a long time ago. But now I wondered just how much my dad knew about it—I’d assumed nothing—and how much the government knew.

I shoved a change of clothes and a photo of my family into the bag and zipped it up. I’d already wasted five precious minutes packing; I needed to get moving.

Changing out of my flimsy shirt and heels, I pulled on well worn boots I could both run and hike in, switched out my shirt for a hardier one, and threw on a fitted running jacket.

My heart slammed into my chest as I looked at my door. On the other side of it I could hear a quiet conversation.

I’d been found out. All my secrets, all my lies—even my tattoo—everything I’d done to stay under the radar was now for nothing.

Over eighteen years ago my parents made a promise to the government. In return for my inception, they’d hand me over for two years of military service. Over eighteen years ago, the government had helped make me, and now they’d come to collect.

Chapter 4

I blinked away the sting in my eyes. I wouldn’t be able to say goodbye if I ran. Knowing my precious time was ticking by, I left a brief note for my parents, telling them that I loved them. I hid it beneath my pillow and glanced at the door once more.

Bye, I mouthed.

I slung my backpack over my shoulder and strode over to my window. My room sat at the back of my house and overlooked a narrow alley. It wasn’t much of a view, but it was a great emergency exit.

I jimmied the window open, wincing when its warped wood frame groaned in protest. I swung first one leg, then the other out the window and dropped to the paved ground beneath me.

Shrugging my backpack higher up my shoulder, I glanced down the alley. At the end closest to me, a man wearing a black suit and an earpiece stood guard, probably in case something like this happened.

What was going on?

He wasn’t looking in my direction, but as soon as I glanced his way, it was as though he sensed me. His body turned, and our eyes locked.

That was all the encouragement I needed. I sprinted in the opposite direction. Behind me I could here the man’s leather shoes click against the pavement as he chased after me. I could also hear his breathless voice as he contacted his colleagues. These first few moments were the most important ones for me to get an advantage. If I couldn’t lose this guy now, more agents would join him.

I came to the end of the alley and turned right onto a busy city street. I ran down the street and cut across traffic. Horns honked at me, and tires squealed as I stopped traffic.

“Look where you’re going asshole!” a driver yelled at me. I ignored him as I wove through the cars.

As soon as I crossed the street, I ran through the main entrance of the stone building in front of me, the Unitarian church.

The sacred silence that enfolded me would, at any other time, have been calming. Now it made me feel exposed.

I slipped down the halls of the church, my footfalls muffled against the plush carpet, until I exited into the courtyard it shared with several other buildings, one of which contained a series of medical offices. I entered in through the back of the building and made my way to the front lobby where a row of chairs lined the walls. Bored patients sat in several of them and waited for their names to be called.

I glanced out the window. There was a bus stop right outside. It would be my getaway car.

I sat down in the general waiting room, switching between watching the hall I came from and watching the traffic outside. When I saw no signs of the agents who were after me, I willed my muscles to relax. Only now did I let myself think of what it meant to be wanted. And I evaded capture—that was criminal.

Now I really had to will myself to stay calm. I’d broken a whole lot of laws while teleporting, but I’d never gotten caught. Now that was a very real possibility.

From my view of the street, I could see a bus line heading my way. I hiked my backpack onto my shoulders and got up from my seat. Only when the bus came to a stop and slid its doors open did I make a beeline for it.

I joined the loose crowd of people waiting to get on and tried to look inconspicuous. It didn’t work.

Just as I reached for my MUNI pass, a hand caught my wrist and dragged it behind me.

“I don’t think so, tiger.” The voice was low and sexy, and I could hear the smile in his words. That did nothing but piss me off.

“What. The fuck?” I said. Loudly.

We San Franciscans are the people’s people, loving, forward thinking, and ready to fight for the underdog. I just hoped those who watched saw me as that.

Apparently, some did. Two separate men who’d been waiting to board the bus now stepped towards us.

The man detaining me slid my backpack off, grabbed my other arm and tugged it behind me as well. “Nice try,” he whispered into my ear. I could just tell by the way he spoke that he was good looking. And he knew it too.

To the men in front of us my captor said, “I have a warrant for this young lady’s arrest. Get involved and I’ll get a warrant for yours.” That was enough to dismantle my rescue mission. Looking somewhat regretful, both men backed away and eventually boarded the bus.

I glanced down at my captor’s shoes. Unlike the other agents, he wore casual tennis shoes and jeans. That’s why I hadn’t noticed him inside the building. I wondered if he’d been watching me the entire time.

I tensed my leg, visualizing myself slamming my foot into his. I’d enjoy wiping that cocky tone from his voice.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t do that,” he said from behind me, as though reading my mind. “Not only will you get charged for attacking an officer, I’ll have to tackle you to the ground and frisk you.” Again, I could hear the smile in his voice.

I turned to give him a nasty look, but once I did so, my throat caught. The first thing I noticed was that I had to look up to meet his eyes. I wasn’t short; this guy was just huge, and every inch of exposed skin was muscular and tan.

The next thing I noticed were his dimples, which bordered a self-satisfied smirk. Disheveled, golden hair curled along his hairline. Someone so annoying didn’t deserve to look that good.

Hazel eyes watched me, and judging by the laugh lines that creased the corners of them, he found me amusing.

“Enjoying the view, princess?”

Screw the extra charges. I brought my foot up and slammed it down into his.

He grunted. “I was hoping you’d do that.” He swept my feet out from under me, and I slammed into the ground.

A second later my captor’s hard torso pressed into mine. We made eye contact for a moment, just long enough for me to realize that even this up close, he was every bit as beautiful as his voice originally indicated he’d be, and he couldn’t be much older than me.

Go figure I’d meet two devastatingly handsome men in a week, and one would arrest me while the other would think I was trying to kill him.

Life just wasn’t fair sometimes.

He flipped my body over, his knee digging into my back, and he restrained me with plastic handcuffs. He recited my Miranda Rights as he frisked me, spending an inordinate amount of time feeling up my back pockets.

Around us, people stared, some taking photos and videos with their smartphones.

So much for my grand escape.

“Got her Boss.” My captor watched me as he spoke into the phone, flashing me another one of his sickeningly perfect smiles. Around us cars honked and people walked by. Life went on as usual for everyone except me.

I leaned my head back against the wall of the office building I’d so recently hidden in, my hands twisted behind me.

I couldn’t hear the other end of the line, but he must’ve asked for our location, because my captor rattled off the street we were on.

Shortly after that, the call ended, and he sat down next to me.

I wouldn’t look at him, but I still watched him from the corner of my eye. He was checking out my bag. “What do you have in this thing? It weighs a ton.”

When I didn’t answer him, he unzipped it and peered inside.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I asked, turning to him.

“What does it look like I’m doing? Checking out your bag.” He pulled out my water purifier. He raised his eyebrows, a hint of admiration in them. “You planning on living off the grid?”

I flashed him a nasty look. That seemed to only encourage him. He glanced back down into the bag and pulled out my compass and fire starter kit. “Damn, but I’m impressed. You know how to use this stuff?” he asked, looking up at me.

“No, Sherlock,” I said, “I just threw it into the bag purely so that it could weigh me down.”

The glint in his eyes and the smile he flashed let me know that I’d played right into his hand. He wanted to goad me into talking.

“Any food in here?” he asked, rummaging through the bag. He pulled out a freeze-dried bag of food—the kind you needed to pour boiling water over to eat.

Without asking, he opened the bag and reached in. He picked out a few pieces of food and tossed them into his mouth.

He grimaced. “That tastes like shit,” he said. He flipped the bag around and studied it. “You were really going to eat this?”

“What do you think?”

Ignoring me, he glanced back into the bag and let out a low whistle. “We have a winner.” He held up a tiny G-string. “Now this, I approve of.”

If my hands weren’t tied, I would’ve throttled him. As it was, I was tempted to kick him. But I wouldn’t be fast enough, and I’d probably end up beneath him. Again.

So instead, I leaned my head back against the wall and closed my eyes. I began humming a childhood lullaby, one that my mom used to sing to me when I couldn’t fall asleep. Sometimes it’d helped me cope when I teleported into awful situations.

Only once the song came to an end did I realize that my captor hadn’t spoken in a while.

I opened my eyes and found him staring at me, his gaze softer than it had been.

“Don’t look at me like that,” I said.

“Like what?”

“Like you pity me.” Or care about me.

It was human nature to want to connect with others, and I definitely didn’t want to feel anything other than animosity for the guy who arrested me.

Arrested. The term didn’t sit well with me. Nor did the term officer. He’d used a lot of pretty language when he grabbed me, but had he even flashed a badge? I didn’t think so.

“You’re not a police officer,” I stated.

He smiled. “I’m not.”

My heart dropped. “Do you work for the government?”

His smile became sly. “You could say that.”

“So you came with those agents to capture me?”

He pulled his leg up so that it was bent at the knee, and he slung an arm over it. “I didn’t come with them, but I do work with them.”

He made his next words sound deliberately casual. “And when they told me they’d found you, my pair, I requested that I personally be there to bring you in.”

Pair?

His eyes flicked over me. “Have to say, you didn’t disappoint. At all.”

I had the oddest temptation to blush at his words.

He stood up and glanced at his watch. “Looks like our time’s almost up, princess.”

“Stop calling me that.”

His eyes sparkled mischievously. “But it’s so much fun getting a rise out of you.”

When I shot him a mean look, he sighed, as though his life were real tough. “I’ll see you tonight, Ember.”

He knew my name. I raised my eyebrows, ignoring the way my skin heated at his words.

His watch beeped twice, and then he vanished.

Chapter 5

For a moment, all I could do was gape.

He was just like me.

I didn’t know there were others out there who shared my ability, but my captor did.

My captor. He’d vanished, leaving me alone. I could still escape.

As soon as that thought entered my mind, several black SUVs rounded the corner, their sirens on. They slammed to a stop in front of me, and then agents poured from the car.

Rough hands grabbed me and pulled me toward one of the vehicles. Guess I wasn’t escaping after all.

Dane Richards rounded one of the cars and assessed me. “Caden was right; you did run. Good to know that boy’s instincts were on the mark.”

“Caden?” I asked.

“The guy who caught you.”

He now had a name. Caden.

“He’s an extractor,” Richards continued. “And one of the best damn ones we have.”

“What’s an extractor?”

He put a hand on my shoulder and shook it. “All in good time, Ember. For now, your job is to focus on getting acquainted with our staff and the facility you’ll be living at.”

He let me go, and the other agents threw me into the backseat of an SUV. A moment later my backpack hit my side as one of the agents tossed it in after me. The door slammed shut behind me, and two agents I’d met earlier slid into the front seats.

The driver looked at the female agent in the passenger seat. “What’s the ETA, Debbie?”

The woman glanced at the dashboard and tilted her head. “We should arrive around seven—eight at the latest.”

Wherever we were going, it would take us five to six hours to get there.

The engine turned over and we pulled out into traffic.

I looked out the window and my chest constricted. The scenery flew by, and with it, my freedom.

“Where are we going?” I asked, already tired of watching San Francisco fade away behind me. The whole scenario felt like a nightmare—horrible, but too fantastical to be true.

“The facility is in the California costal hills near Big Sur,” said Debbie, a curly-haired brunette. “It’s full of teens who share your ability to teleport.”

My head snapped up.

“Just like Caden Hawthorne, the boy who cuffed you,” she continued.

Hawthorne. I now had a last name to go along with the first. I didn’t linger on that piece of information for long though, not once I processed Debbie’s words.

There were more of us. I guess I wasn’t quite as anomalous as I’d thought.

I rubbed my wrists, which were still red and sore. It had taken me twenty minutes to get my Swiss Army knife out of my bag and cut them off. The two agents hadn’t tried to stop me, but they hadn’t tried to help, either. Most interesting of all, they hadn’t taken away the knife.

They didn’t see me as a threat.

“I know this must be hard for you,” Debbie said, “but I promise you’ll love the facility.”

Unlikely.

I looked out the window, choosing my words carefully before I spoke. “You’re not taking me to jail or recruiting me for the military, are you?” It was a rhetorical question—I knew they weren’t. I was receiving special treatment—the SUVs, the multiple agents, the escorted ride to the facility. Neither a typical soldier nor a criminal would receive this type of treatment.

Silence. Then, “Our program is called the Prometheus Project. It is a secret operations unit funded by the U.S. government, and its aim is to protect and maintain national security. To those without clearance it goes by the pseudonym the Generation Project.”

This was the project name Dane Richards used in front of my parents. I was taken aback by the government’s audacity. They hadn’t even allowed my parents, who consented to the program, to know its real name. That might be innocent enough, except that if the project’s true name was classified, then there must be other things about it that were classified as well.

Technically, I could be going anywhere and used for any purpose the government deemed necessary.

Debbie continued. “The Prometheus Project began over two decades ago when a group of scientists were hired by the U.S. government to mutate human genes. These scientists discovered that by manipulating the genetic code, they could alter a person’s appearance and intelligence. They could even create abilities never before seen. One of these was seeing if the human body could teleport.”

She fell silent, letting me take this in.

I felt my throat work, but no words came out. They made me a freak. On purpose. It was unforgiveable—I wouldn’t wish this ability on anyone.

“But when the children with this mutation were born,” Debbie continued, “they weren’t teleporting. And, after seven unsuccessful years of trials, the funding was pulled, and the program was shut down.

“It wasn’t until the oldest group of teleporters hit puberty that the project was revived.”

I remembered my first trip was shortly after my thirteenth birthday. Puberty had triggered it.

“When strange reports surfaced of children appearing and disappearing, the program was started back up. Ever since, we have slowly reclaimed the children with these abilities, most before they were eighteen. We’ve found the earlier we bring them in, the less traumatic the experience.”

That was an understatement.

“Of course, we’ve had to make some adjustments,” Debbie continued. “We had no idea that only the initial stages of sleep triggered the teleportation mechanism. Or that the body can only trigger a single ten-minute trip—nine minutes and fifty-six seconds to be exact—once per circadian cycle.”

Huh. That was interesting. I guess it explained why I only teleported once during fitful sleep.

“But we’ve sorted all those problems out. Now the ultimate goal of the Prometheus Project is to train you to use your talents to protect our country.”

Chapter 6

The drive was long, and we didn’t end up arriving at the facility until the evening. Other than the disturbing information Debbie told me at the beginning of the trip, we hardly talked, and the male agent driving us hadn’t even attempted conversation.

For a long time all I could see were the dark forms of the coastal hills below an equally dark sky. Then at some point we pulled off the lonely freeway and drove into the ominous hills. I tried to keep track of all the turns we made, but gave up after a while. The winding hills and night sky made it impossible to orient myself.

The SUV turned off the paved road onto a dirt one, and I sat up a little straighter. We drove for another fifteen minutes before the sky lightened up ever so slightly.

Lights. We must be close to the facility.

Sure enough, our car began to slow. I leaned forward in my seat to catch the first glimpses of my new home. A tall chain-link fence came into view first. Razor wire wound itself around the top of it. On the other side someone sat in a guard tower, a gun in their arms.

Perhaps this was all meant to keep people out. Perhaps. But I wasn’t a trusting person by nature.

My muscles coiled, and as silently as I could I tried the door handle next to me. It didn’t surprise me when it didn’t budge. They’d locked me in from the outside.

When our car pulled up to the gates, the chain-link fence rolled back and the guard in the tower waved us in.

Our car crested a small hill, and then the facility stretched out in front of me. From the dim glow of the artificial lights, the facility appeared to be an off-white, industrial building three stories high. It was ugly and unimpressive to look at, and behind it were a series of similarly ugly buildings.

Great. This looked an awful lot like prison to me.

We came to a stop in front of the building. Our driver went to the back of the car and pulled out luggage from the trunk while Debbie opened my door.

“Nervous?” she asked me.

I slid out, slinging my backpack onto my shoulder.

I shrugged. The truth was, at the moment a whole lot of emotions swirled around, and I didn’t want her to know any of them.

“You can always come to me if you need someone to talk to. I’m the resident counselor here, so it’s my job to help you make a smooth adjustment to living here.”

Two years. Two whole years—some of the best of my life—would be spent cooped up here. My throat worked when I thought about what my future should have been. I’d already applied to colleges, and the acceptances were trickling in. Now I’d never get to go.

My shoes squeaked against the cheap linoleum floor as Debbie showed me to my room. It was one of many that lined the hall.

“This section of the facility is the dormitory, and it’s where you and the other teleporters will stay during your downtime. It’s mixed gender, so don’t be surprised if you see men in the halls.”

As if on cue, one of the doors down the hall opened, and a boy exited his room. When he noticed us, he waved at Debbie, a spark of interest flashing in his eyes as they passed over me. Debbie waved back, and we watched as he then walked away from us.

Debbie opened the door to my room, and we stepped inside. The first thing I noticed were the two familiar duffle bags resting next to my bed. One of them normally held my family’s camping equipment. Pierce had long ago been written along the brown canvas straps that crisscrossed it. I smiled sadly at my mom’s handwriting.

The other was my purple suitcase, what I normally took when my family went on trips. They’d packed my things for me, probably while I ran.

My eyes drifted from the luggage to the rest of the room. White walls, brown threadbare carpet—the kind that portable classrooms came with—and a bed fitted with white sheets and a rough wool blanket.

Forlorn. That was the word I’d use to describe my room. It looked like it was made to fit multiple occupants, but only my single, lonely bed sat in the corner, along with a single desk and dresser.

On the wall that ran to my left, a narrow door opened into a bathroom. At least I got my own shower.

“Ready for a brief tour of the facility?” Debbie asked from the doorway.

I shrugged. “Sure.” I didn’t have much else to do.

“Now, what kind of attitude is that?” Debbie smiled as she said it.

I just stared at her.

She coughed. “Okay, right this way.”

We left the dormitory and walked to the dining hall. It looked nearly identical to my school’s cafeteria with its linoleum floors and faux wooden tables. Dismal.

“Here’s the dining hall. Meals are at seven a.m., noon, and five p.m. Miss them and you’ll go hungry. We make announcements during mealtime, so it’s important to get here on time.

“Your parents packed your laptop and gave us your email address earlier today, so as soon as we enter it into our roster, you’ll start receiving emails.”

My throat constricted at the reminder that I was now far away from my family.

“Your class schedule and any assignments your instructors give you will be emailed to that account, so make sure to check it regularly. Until it’s entered in, you’ll have to rely on your partner for that information.”

“Partner?” I kept the budding panic out of my voice. I didn’t want a partner. I didn’t want friends period. I may have to be here, but that didn’t mean I’d have to enjoy it.

Debbie smiled, and although she had been kind to me since we meet, this was the first time genuine warmth filled her face. “I believe you’ve already met him.”

“Caden?” I asked, jumping to the only other teleporter I’d ever met.

She nodded.

No. No, no, no. “You’re kidding, right?”

“’Fraid not.” She sounded way too cheerful about that. As though there wasn’t a conflict of interest here, such as him being the guy who cuffed me and dragged me into this whole mess. If not for him, I’d be on my way to Mexico right now.

“And what, exactly, does a partner do?”

Now she gave me a look that told me I should’ve already figured that one out. “They help each other out with classes, training, and eventually, missions.”

“Missions? What are we, spies?”

Debbie didn’t say anything to that, which made me think that was exactly what I was here for.

“C’mon,” she said, “we have more to see.”

We left the dining hall, and Debbie took me down another hallway lined with doors labeled numerically.

“These are the classrooms and labs. This is where you’ll spend most of your day. All your classmates have the same abilities as you, but you each have particular talents. Your studies will be tailored to you and your classmates’ unique genetic makeup. Just like at your last school, you’ll be grouped in classes based on your age group, as opposed to your skill level.

“Make sure you arrive to your classes on time. Each instructor has their own personal punishment for tardy students, and I can promise you it’s never fun.”

I was becoming increasingly downtrodden. By the looks of this place, I was going to have to spend my college years reliving high school.

It also didn’t escape my notice that the halls were empty. I may not be the only one with the ability to teleport, but by the looks of it, there weren’t many of us.

Next we walked to the library and study hall, where students lounged in recliners, highlighting notes or typing away on laptops.

I hadn’t noticed the students before, but now that I did, I couldn’t look away. A few looked unremarkable, but there was a sharpness about them that made me think of the phrase “a wolf in sheep’s clothing.”

And the rest—they were perfect. They had beautiful faces, sculpted bodies, and stylish outfits. Some looked younger than me, but most looked my age. I didn’t see anyone who appeared much older than me.

Debbie patted my arm. “I’ll save the introductions for tomorrow. C’mon, I’ll show you the gym, and then I’ll let you get settled in.”

The term “gym” was a bit of a misnomer. Connected to the main facility by a hallway, one of the satellite buildings was full of nothing but rooms equipped for a plethora of activities. We began on the third floor, which contained basketball and volleyball courts as well as a dance studio.

On the second floor were two weight rooms—one with machines and the other full of benches and free weights. But most of this floor was taken up by an open room covered in mats.

When we arrived on the ground floor, the air tasted musty. I could hear splashing before Debbie held the door open for me. Inside was an Olympic sized pool, and in it was a single occupant swimming up and down the length of it.

Like all the other rooms, I assumed I’d take a cursory look and then we’d move on. So it surprised me when Debbie left my side and approached the edge of the pool. She dipped her hand into the water and waved it back and forth. By the looks of it, she was trying to get the swimmer’s attention.

As soon as the swimmer began to slow down, she stepped back. He swam to the wall and placed his hands on the concrete lip of the pool.

I tried not to stare as he pushed himself out, the muscles in his arms and shoulders bunching and straining.  Water slicked back his golden hair and dripped down his torso.

Caden Hawthorne. It was a shock to see him here.

He pushed himself out of the pool in one fluid movement, every bit of exposed skin just as tanned and toned as I thought it might be. “Deb-bie!” He scooped her into a wet hug and she squealed. “I didn’t know that was you.”

“Caden, stop it,” she said, but even from here I could hear the laughter in her voice. “I brought your pair here to meet you—again.”

I was moving before she’d even finished the words. My shock had morphed to anger. This was the cocky prick who’d foiled my escape and rubbed it in my face.

Caden broke off the hug and turned to face me just as I closed the distance between the two of us.

I threw my arms in front of me and shoved him hard. His eyes widened for a split second. And then he caught my wrists as he fell.

I yelped and tried to pull away, but Caden’s hold on my wrists didn’t ease up. I felt my body propel forward along with his.

Cuffed, groped, and now dunked underwater. This guy knew exactly how to humiliate me.

Together we hit the water, and only then did he release my wrists. Chilly water enveloped me and I kicked away from him, gasping up for air and swimming to the wall.

Above us Debbie called out, “It looks like you two are going to get along just fine. Caden take care of Ember; this is going to be a tough time for her.” She spoke as though I weren’t in the room.

“Yes, ma’am,” Caden said.

“I’ll see you two in Professional Profiling later this week,” she said, and then the sound of her footfalls gradually quieted.

“Hi princess,” he said, turning to me in the water, his hazel eyes intense.

“Screw you.”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “Feisty as ever, I see.”

“Don’t pretend you know me,” I said, struggling to pull myself out of the water.

Caden swam to the wall, and easily lifted himself out of the water.

He turned to face me, and this close to him, I caught sight of crisscrossing white lines and pea-sized craters speckled along his arms and torso. Scars. Whoever this guy was, he led a violent life.

He bent down, reaching out a hand for me. Reluctantly I took it and let him pull me out of the water. “You’re right,” he said, still holding my hand. “I don’t know you—yet.” His eyes glittered. “I have every intention of figuring you out.”

Chapter 7

That night I tried to call Ava, but out here in the middle of buttfuck nowhere I couldn’t get reception. So instead I sat down and wrote her an email explaining what had happened. I seriously doubted that she’d believe me—I wouldn’t. I then typed up a brief email to my parents to let them know I was alive and made it here safely.

When I finally unpacked my meager belongings and made it to bed, the day replayed itself over and over in my head. I felt no sadness, no grief over the loss of my former life. I think this is what shock must feel like. The magnitude of my situation had yet to knock the breath out of me. I was still reeling from how quickly my life had changed within a few hours.

Finally, sleep crept up on me, and—thankful for once—I gave myself over to it.

I stood on a white sand beach. It was just after sunset, and the sky was a deep blue-green. Other than a cluster of palm trees and a hammock, this was it. Paradise.

And I knew I hadn’t sent myself here.

So this was what the government could do. They harnessed my ability, and directed it to a destination of their choice.

Debbie hadn’t mentioned the project being able to control where people teleported, but I mean, c’mon. I didn’t think it was a coincidence that the Prometheus Project happened to find me the day after I broke into Adrian’s safe. Somehow they were sending people like me out.

Now came the hard questions, like how they found me and what their interest was in Adrian.

I sat down and dug my feet into the still-warm sand and hummed my mother’s lullaby quietly to myself. I couldn’t ask for a more beautiful place to go. And yet all the sandy shores in the world couldn’t bring back what I’d lost.

This demonstration proved something much more frightening than the loss of my previous life. My future freedom was potentially at stake.

As I glanced around this quaint island, with its hammock rocking gently in the evening breeze, I knew this was the best I was going to get from the government. But what would happen if I ever decided not to cooperate? Where did they send the delinquent teleporters?

“Wake up.”

“Go away,” I murmured.

“Wake up.” Someone was shaking my shoulder. “Man, I knew this was going to happen.”

I groaned and flipped over onto my other side.

“Listen Sleeping Beauty, we can do this the easy way or the hard way.”

I snuggled down deeper into my pillow.

“Hard way it is.” Suddenly the sheets were gone and my bare skin was exposed to the chilly morning air.

I gasped and grabbed for my blankets, trying to cover my naked body. When I looked up, Caden was grinning, a look that clearly expressed just how much he enjoyed the peep show.

“You asshole!” When I teleported, I came back to the exact place I fell asleep. My clothes however, never managed to make it back on me.

“I wish I could say that I didn’t enjoy that,” he paused, “but the truth is, I’ve been waiting to do that ever since I arrived here.”

And that’s when I punched him in the face.

I could hear him moaning as I moved around my room, blanket covering me, and picked out some clothes from my suitcase. I walked into my private bathroom and began to change.

When I came out of the bathroom, Caden was leaning against the door. In spite of pinching his now-swollen nose, he managed to look like a kid on Christmas.

“Damn, you throw a mean right hook,” he said, grinning.

I gave him a dark look as he opened the door for me.

“I’m sorry. Really, I am.” He stifled his smile, but the telltale dimples were still visible. “I should’ve given you more warning. But we were going to be late, and your first day of workouts is going to kill you enough without adding on tardy exercises.”

I looked over at him in disbelief. “Wow, how selfless of you. Your kindness knows no bounds,” I said, following him into the hallway.

He shrugged, flashing a cheeky grin as we rounded the corner of the hallway. “What can I say? I’m a good guy.”

Was he for real?

When we got to the dining hall, it was empty.

Caden swore. “Looks like we’re going to be doing tardy exercises after all.”

I looked around the empty room. “So how do I know what classes to go to?” I asked.

He pulled a severely crumpled piece of paper out of his back pocket. “We’re partners, and I’ve got our week’s itinerary.”

I took the paper from him and smoothed it out. The names were barely legible.

“How did you manage to inflict this much damage to a single piece of paper?”  I asked as I scanned the paper. I noticed the date and time printed in the upper right corner. It was today’s date and beneath it the time indicated it was 6:54 a.m. when the page had been printed.

“Wait a sec,” I said, looking up at him. “You were awake! On time! Did you purposefully wait to wake me?”

He backed away. “Right now what’s most important is getting you some breakfast, now that the kitchen’s closed.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Funny how thoughtful you are when it suits you.” But I let it go. After all, not only had dozens of random people seen me naked when I teleported, but also—and more importantly—I was really hungry, and Caden was my meal ticket. I wasn’t going to forget this, though. Caden would receive payback when he least expected it.

He pulled out a key from behind a series of stacked crates, unlocked the kitchen door, and slipped into the area normally reserved for cooks.

A few minutes later he came out carrying a banana and a couple of energy bars.

“That’s breakfast?” I didn’t attempt to hide my disappointment.

He raised an eyebrow. “They don’t serve snacks between meals unless it’s a special occasion, so there’s slim pickings where food is concerned.” Caden handed me the banana and the protein bar, keeping another for himself. “C’mon, let’s get going—we’ve got a bit of a hike.”

“Where are we going? I thought all our classes were within the building?”

“Not always. Sometimes our close combat training course is outside. Same goes for our weaponry class.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard you correctly. It sounded like you said ‘close combat.’” And weaponry. I suppressed a shudder.

He smiled mischievously. “Time to get dirty, princess.”

Chapter 8

It took us about twenty minutes to trek up the hill the facility was located on. Throughout our hike up, I inhaled deeply, unused to the woodsy, wild smell of the place.

Maybe I could get used to this. The way the sun slanted through the trees, the chirp of birds waking up, the way Caden turned every so often to smile at me—even if he wasn’t completely forgiven yet.

But when we arrived at the training course, my optimism crashed down around me.

A semicircle of men and women my age crowded around our coach, most looking effortlessly beautiful and all looking lethal.

“Well Caden, nice of you to join,” our coach called out. He was the crusty type—the kind of man who never lost his hard edge. These types usually had soft spots too.

“I had to help the new girl out,” he said, indicating me.

Everyone who hadn’t already been staring swiveled to stare at us.

“Ah, yes. Well, bring her up here and introduce her.” The coach motioned for us.

I followed Caden, threading my way through the crowd until we stood next to our instructor.

“This is my pair, Ember Pierce,” Caden said to the group. I heard a few gasps from the cluster of students and noticed a couple people craning their heads to get a good look at me.

What was going on?

Our coach cleared his throat. “I’m Coach Painter. I’m the head instructor of your physical conditioning.” I nodded to him. “I’m sorry that I’m going to have to issue you and Caden tardy exercises on your first day, but rules are rules. Hopefully your partner will be better about informing you of our schedule in the future.” He gave Caden a hard look.

“I hope so too,” I said, watching Caden as I spoke. His eyes thinned and his dimples appeared. I could read his expression. An enjoyable challenge. That’s what he thought I was.

Coach Painter turned his focus away from us then and addressed the class. “Okay class, today we’re going to focus on guerilla warfare—specifically what you’ll have to do if you ever get cornered by the enemy. Pairs to the left, singles to the right.”

Guerilla warfare? I was in way over my head. I told myself that I could do this. It was guerilla warfare every time I went to sleep.

And why the heck were there any singles—shouldn’t we all be paired off?

A beautiful girl with hair several shades darker than my own separated herself from the crowd and sauntered over to Caden. She ignored my presence as she hugged him for just a beat too long.

“Hey gorgeous,” she said, letting go only to wrap an arm around his waist.

“What up Desiree?” His eyes flicked to me briefly. “Have you met Ember?”

Reluctantly Desiree pulled her eyes from Caden to size me up. Her mouth curved into a fake smile. “Not yet. Pleasure to meet you,” she said, not bothering to stick out her hand. A second later her gaze went back to Caden. “Looks like we won’t be having fun together in the singles group anymore.” She pouted. This show was all for me, though she never once acknowledged my presence.

Caden looked down at her, and I saw genuine affection there. “No, we won’t, but that doesn’t change anything between us,” he said.

“I guess you’re right. After all—” She leaned in and whispered something into his ear, smiling.

He smiled in return.

This girl was clearly marking her territory. Which was fine with me—she could have the blanket snatcher.

Nonetheless, I memorized her face. Girls like her lived to make my life miserable, but now that she’d shown her cards, I knew a few of her weak points. She liked Caden, she felt I was a threat, and she primarily used her appearance to get what she wanted. I filed that information away. Who knew when I might need it.

Guerrilla warfare turned out to be ten-minute modules where students teamed up with their pair—or another single—and used the nearby resources to attack and take out targets.

Which was really spectacular for me, considering my vast array of knowledge on the art of guerilla warfare. Not.

Caden had already seen me cuffed, wet, naked, and now he was going to see me get my butt kicked. I was noticing an unfortunate trend here.

With a little creativity I might get through this without completely embarrassing myself. After all, I did know a bit about survival. Since puberty it had been that or die.

I was seriously questioning my affinity for survival forty minutes later, after I ran my fifth lap around the main buildings that made up the facility, the fate of all students who were not busy with the module. Back home I’d run every day, not even they could prepare me for the hellish loops up and down the mountainside.

While I ran, I studied my surroundings. The loop around the facility was large, yet I still hadn’t seen the chain-link fence that closed us in. That meant that this place must be huge. I’d have to do some exploring later.

The students running next to me did so with ease, which made me think that most of them had been here for a while. Had the government found them the same way they’d found me? Were there more like us out there, or was I one of the last ones that had slipped through the cracks?

When I and the other teleporters arrived back at the meeting point to check in, I leaned on my knees, focusing on not puking. I frowned when I noticed that Desiree still managed to look perky and cute, even after five excruciating laps.

Coach called out, “Hawthorne! Bring your partner over here! The rest of you milling about—run another lap.”

Caden nudged me. “That’s us.” He wrapped an arm around my waist.

Just as I let him help me up, Desiree shot me a death look. I openly rolled my eyes at her—this was so not how I wanted to start off my stay here.

“Okay guys,” our coach leaned in and placed a hand on each of our shoulders, “you’ve got ten minutes once you enter the warehouse to secure a red scarf and make it back out.” He was referring to the building in front of us. It was built into the hillside, so I had no idea how big or small it actually was.

A ten-minute module. That was the same amount of time that we spent teleporting each evening. The project was training us to accomplish tasks in the same time it took us to disappear and reappear. Which reaffirmed my theory that they could control where we went once we fell asleep.

“If you are targeted before the ten minutes are up,” Coach Painter continued, “the module will shut off and you’ll fail the training session.”

“Wait,” I interrupted. “You give out grades?”

Coach looked at me like I was an idiot.

“Sorry,” I mumbled.

“Okay you two, get going!” He gave our shoulders one final shake and pushed us in the direction of the warehouse.

Slowly we walked towards the building. “Is there anything I should know about this module before I go in?” I asked.

Caden shook his head. “Nothing that I tell you will really help at the moment. Just be aware of your surroundings, listen to your instincts, and do not hesitate.”

I stomped through the brush. This was going to be unpleasant. I could already tell.

Caden eyed my not-so-subtle gait. “Also—and I know this might be difficult—but try to be quiet.”

I picked up a nearby pinecone and threw it at him.

“Ow!” He flinched. “Now that was just rude.”

We slipped through the doors and entered a narrow hallway. Behind me the metal door banged shut, the sound echoing throughout the building.

Caden gave me a look.

I shrugged. “Sorry,” I said, my words reverberating throughout the building.

Caden flinched. I think I may have heard him mutter, “Worst partner ever,” but, considering everything he’d put me through since the moment we met, I was pretty sure I had drawn the short stick.

When nothing jumped out from behind the many closed doors that lined either side of the hallway, I began to get worried. Something was waiting for us. I knew how to survive for ten minutes out in the real world, but not one that involved combat.

“I have a plan,” Caden whispered. “You guard the hallway while I check each room.”

“Deal.” Guard duty seemed to be the lesser of two evils.

He nodded and slowly opened the closest door. Nothing happened. Quietly he walked through the door. A minute later he came out.

“Clear.”

“Are we doing this for every door?” He flinched again at my voice. “Because I think we already wasted nearly a fourth of our time, and we have five more doors.”

“You have any better ideas, princess?”

“Um, yeah. It’s called smash and grab. We kick the doors open two at a time, jump out of the way—since by now someone is likely waiting for us—scan the room’s contents, and move on.”

Caden looked half-convinced when he asked, “What happens if there’s too many people to take on?”

I shrugged. “We fail.”

Reluctantly Caden’s face broke into a grin. “Adventurous and daring.” He nodded. “I like it.”

“Awesome. Then let’s do this.”

We started with the back two doors, thinking it would be easier to work our way out of the building rather than into it.

I began the count. “One.”

“Two.”

“Three.”

We kicked the doors inward at the same time. Sitting in the middle of my room was the red scarf.

“Shit!” I heard Caden curse behind me. I guess he was running into more trouble than I.

I did a brief scan of the room and determined that it was not obviously rigged. Quickly I crossed the room and reached down to grab the scarf.

“Freeze, or I’ll shoot.”

My head snapped up at the voice. A man peeled away from the wall, aiming a very real looking gun at me.

A grunt echoed from Caden’s room. Bummer.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t shoot you right now.”

It was only a module. The lie should have been easy.

I swallowed. “I can’t.”

He lifted the gun and fired.

Chapter 9

“Great. Tardy exercises, and now I failed my first partner module.”

“—Eff—off,” I wheezed between push-ups. I didn’t know a body could handle this much physical activity in a single day.

“No talking!” Coach Painter yelled. I think he was taking our failure personally.

At least the gun was unloaded. I still almost peed my pants when the guy aiming the gun at me had pulled the trigger and I heard the click of an empty chamber.

After gym class, Caden and I spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon attending Global Relations, followed by Language Acquisition. Apparently those weren’t the only classes I’d be attending; I also had weaponry, etiquette, and professional profiling classes later this week.

The day should’ve been over after Global Relations, but thanks to our tardy attendance this morning we were now working out for the second time today.

My puny arms could no longer push my body up and down. I collapsed onto the mat, my muscles spasming from the exertion.

“Pierce!” Coach had quickly moved from not knowing my name to being on a last-name basis with me. “Why have you stopped?”

“I can’t do any more push-ups.”

“Why didn’t you say so?” I could tell Coach was a wily one from the lilt of his voice. “Let’s switch to some stadiums.”

I wanted to cry as I scraped my body off of the track and walked towards the cement stairs built into the stadium that surrounded the track. My tour had not included this football stadium, probably because it sat deep in the woods behind the facility.

“Pierce!” he yelled behind me. I looked over my shoulder at him. “Do five sets of four, and then you’ll be done for the day.”

“You want me to do twenty stadiums? All the way up?” There had to be at least forty stairs. Forty. Who even used this stupid stadium? All the forest creatures? There weren’t enough people in the surrounding fifty miles to fill these bleachers up.

“No Pierce,” Coach Painter said, “I only want you to run the first two sets—and only halfway up.”

“Really?” I asked, hopeful.

“No. Now get moving! And Hawthorne, get up off the ground and join her. That’s five sets of eight for you.”

“Coach—” Caden began.

“Listen guys, this isn’t Rhetoric. I don’t care about your diction or your arguments. Now get moving, I want to go home before the sun rises.”

Forget prison, I’d been recruited into hell.

That evening, after I’d loaded my plate with food, I walked past the rows of occupied tables and made a beeline for an empty one towards the back of the room. My skin felt hot as several pairs of eyes tracked my progress. One pair in particular caught mine.

I briefly met Caden’s gaze. He sat in the middle of a crowded table—next to Desiree—the center of attention. Despite my talent for understanding body language, his eyes were unreadable. I looked away, too tired to attempt to be social.

I collapsed into an empty chair at the back of the room, my legs still weak from stadiums. I’d managed to do all twenty of them, but it took an hour and a whole lot of will power. I thought I was in shape. Trying to survive for ten minutes each night was incentive enough to work out. But this was different. I already knew I was going to be sore for days.

I slid the food in front of me around, glum that my life had been taken from me and angry that I was powerless to stop it from happening. Only now did it hit me that I was stuck here for two years.

Plastic clattered against the table. “Hey. Glad to see you snagged us an empty table.” I glanced up from my food to find Caden sitting across from me.

“Do you ever go away?” I asked, annoyed. He was the last person I wanted to see.

“Sorry princess,” he didn’t look sorry at all, “but we’re partners, which means we’re stuck together.”

Fantastic.

“Have you met some of the other teleporters here?” he asked, nodding his head to indicate the rest of the dining hall.

“I’ve seen some of them in class.”

“Seen and met are two very different things. Here, I’ll call my buddies over.”

“Caden, no—”

He turned to the table he was previously sitting at and whistled, waving his friends over and conveniently ignoring me. At least a half dozen students got up and began to move our way.

My blood pounded and my muscles tensed. All I wanted was to eat alone. I grabbed my tray and stood up. Caden’s hand shot out and grabbed my arm, pulling me back into my seat.

“What do you think you’re—?”

He leaned in and whispered gruffly. “They’re watching us all the time, studying our behavior. If you want to go unnoticed, then you have to blend in. Being a loner will convince them you’re maladaptive. And you do not want that.”

I stared at him for a long moment, taking in this tactical side of Caden. His friends, my classmates, were almost to the table.

“If you’re so concerned about it, then why have you made yourself stand out?” I asked, thinking about the way he moved about the facility, acting like he owned the place.

“You mistake acting the part for standing out.”

The logic behind his words sounded eerily familiar. Hadn’t I done the same thing by covering up my markings with a tattoo? Plus, I had been hiding myself in plain sight for the last five years up until I’d arrived here.

“We all have roles to play,” Caden continued. “Hadn’t I just about convinced you of who I was?”

Yes. I’d assumed Caden was arrogant, egotistical, and charmed the staff and faculty into getting what he wanted. Now I wasn’t so sure that was all there was to him.

His friends began to sit down around us. “Find your role and fit in,” Caden finished, smoothly transitioning from our conversation into fist-pounding one of his buddies and laughing at something he said.

His words gave me the chills. We were being watched.

A guy with skin the color of caramel was the first to introduce himself. “Jeff,” he said, reaching a hand out from across the table to shake mine.

I’d done this often in my old life—made introductions. That was what came with moving around a lot. I’d also learned to keep my distance, to make only a few superficial friends—Ava excepted—because when you moved a lot, goodbyes inevitably followed a short while later.

“Ember,” I said, taking his hand.

His striking green eyes flashed with interest. “It’s nice to meet you, and a damn shame that you’re not single.”

I pulled my hand from his. “I’m not in a relationship, if that’s what you’re talking about,” I said. My gaze flicked to Caden.

Caden’s eyes glittered mischeviously, and again I saw a challenge in them.

Jeff raised his eyebrows. “Oh really?” A smile played on his lips, but he didn’t say anything more.

On Caden’s other side Desiree watched me. When I met her gaze, she held it long enough to let me know she didn’t care that I caught her staring, before turning and asking Caden a question.

“Ignore her,” a blonde girl to my right said.

I glanced over at her. “Serena,” she said, introducing herself, “and that’s my pair, Eric.” She indicated the blonde guy on my other side, and he nodded to me.

“Ember,” I said. “It’s nice to meet you both.” I plastered a pleasant expression on my face, even though making friends was the last thing I wanted to do.

“Nice to meet you too,” Serena said. Her eyes flicked across the table and she lowered her voice. “I’m sorry about Desiree,” she said, leaning in. “She’s a great person, but she’s got issues, especially when it comes to Caden.”

“I picked up on that.” I smiled. Not that I cared. I had no plans to get involved with the guy. No, I might be stuck here at the facility for the moment, but I didn’t plan on staying.

I found myself in a hotel room, a queen bed sat to my right, the thin comforter a tacky maroon and green floral design. Thick drapes hid the window, and the only source of light came from the bathroom behind me and the large bedside lamps perched on either side of the bed.

Wherever I was, it was outside the facility.

In front of me a guy shoved clothing into a suitcase. I held my breath. He hadn’t seen me yet, but my odds of going undetected for ten minutes were slim.

He turned to grab another clothing item when he saw me. Adrian.

“Fuck!” He jumped at the sight of me. I tried to hide my own surprise.

He clutched at his heart and swore. “Stop following me!”

“I don’t exactly want to be here.” I subtly glanced down at my own clothing to see if I came here on my own or if I’d been directed here. I wore a plain T-shirt and jeans. I think I must’ve sought Adrian out on my own. That, or the government now knew my taste in clothing.

He gave me a disbelieving look. “You know, I’m on the run because of you,” he said, throwing another clothing item in his bag.

I raised my eyebrows. “Really?”

“As if you don’t know.”

I walked towards the window, and as I passed him he recoiled. “You might not believe me,” I said, “but I’ll say it anyway: I probably understand less about what’s going on than you do.” His eyes flashed, and he opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off. “In fact, I think that my ignorance might’ve saved your life—twice.”

“You call this saving my life?” he said. “My life’s gone.”

“I’ve never had someone control my ability to teleport until the night I met you.”

“Control your ability to teleport … ?” Adrian repeated. He rubbed his eyes.

I continued as though he hadn’t interrupted. “Someone was definitely directing me to that party of yours with instructions to kill you. And again that night I opened your safe—”

“My father’s,” he interrupted. “It was my father’s safe.”

“Yeah, whatever. My point is, I’m not trying to kill you, someone else is. They’re just using me to get to you.”

Adrian watched me suspiciously. “You know I can’t trust you or anything that you’ve told me.”

I pulled the drapes aside and peered outside. It was dark out, so I was in a part of the world where it was still nighttime, but I had no idea what city we were in. “I don’t exactly trust you either,” I said. “For all I know, you’re some bad guy who deserves to be hunted down. But I also don’t trust my newest boss—the government.”

Adrian stopped packing to cross the room and remove my hand from the drapes. “Don’t do that; you’re going to get me killed.”

I stared at the hand that held my wrist and let my eyes make their way up to Adrian’s face.

Square jaw, sensual lips, high cheekbones, and sculpted eyebrows. He was just as beautiful as the teleporters I trained alongside.

The hard look in his dark green eyes flickered just for a moment when our eyes met. And then it was back in place. “You work for the government?” he asked.

“Unwillingly. They didn’t really give me choice.”

“Guess that answers that.” He yanked on the wrist he still held and began dragging me across the room.

“Hey!” He gave my arm a hard tug when I resisted, and I tripped over my feet as I was forced to follow him. “Ow! Hey asshole, that hurts.”

“I don’t really care,” Adrian said, not bothering to look back at me.

He opened his door and, giving my arm a final, hard jerk, threw me out of his room.

A moment later the door slammed shut, and I could hear a click and jangle as Adrian locked the door.

I rubbed my backside and glared at the shut door. Adrian had become a pain in my ass—literally. “I don’t like you!” I yelled at the door.

“Feeling’s mutual,” a muffled voice responded.

This is what I get for not shooting him when I had the chance. I guess no good deed goes unpunished.

Chapter 10

“Ember, wake up.” I felt the mattress dip slightly and a hand brush away hair from my face.

“No,” I murmured.

“Geez, is this going to be a habit?”

“Mhm.”

My comforter was yanked away. For the second day in a row I found myself naked and exposed.

“Caden!” I shouted as my eyes shot open and I went to grab my blanket. Only as soon as I moved, my entire body screamed in pain.

I yelped at the sharp burn that coursed through my muscles, and slumped back onto the bed.

“Are you okay?” Caden asked, touching my shoulder, his eyes concerned.

“Fine,” I rubbed my eyes. “Wait, why are you still in my room? Get out!”

Caden backed away, a sinful smile on his lips. “Let me know if you need help getting dressed.” He slipped out the door before I had the chance to yell at him again. I guess even he knew when he’d pushed me too far.

Ten minutes later I hobbled out the door, every movement painful. Outside my room Caden leaned against the wall, waiting for me. He eyed me up and down. I could tell from his expression that he was vividly remembering exactly how I looked without my clothes.

“Why won’t you leave me alone?” I asked, exasperated.

“We’re partners,” he said as though that explained everything.

“Okay, then let’s get something straight: do not ever wake me up that way again.”

He pushed off the wall and invaded my personal space. “Or else?” he asked, gazing down at me.

“Are you seriously kidding me?” I said. “Or else I will end you.”

His eyes crinkled at the corners; he wasn’t taking me seriously at all. “Relax, princess. I won’t do it again.”

I ignored his annoying nickname; he only said it to rile me up. “I swear if you do, I will spend all my free time thinking of the most creative ways to embarrass you.”

His grin widened as if me taking more interest in him was exactly what he wanted.

We grabbed breakfast, and then I followed Caden out the back doors. A few other students streamed out with us. I watched as they broke out into a trot along the dirt path that wound its way up the mountain. It was different from the one we took yesterday, and it made me wonder just how much property was contained within the facility. Within a few seconds they’d disappeared through the trees.

“Weaponry is outside as well?” I asked, wild grass crunching beneath my feet.

He stretched. “Today it is.” He eyed me up and down. “Hope you’re not too sore, princess; we’ve got quite the run ahead of us.”

Cocky, as usual. It annoyed me that his smug attitude was already starting to grow on me.

Rather than responding, I began jogging, using the path I’d seen the other students take. I bit my cheek to keep from cursing at the pain shooting through my muscles. It was going to take days for it to go away.

I heard light footfalls as Caden fell into step next to me. It was eerie how quiet he could be for someone so large. I’d have to learn how he did that.

He turned to look at me while we ran.

“What?” I said.

He shook his head, grinning. “Nothing.”

But it wasn’t nothing. He’d let his guard down and I saw something there, something that made my heart trip over itself. Wonder.

The emotion was so uncalled for, so out of place, that I wasn’t sure what to make of it. So I pushed it out of my thoughts.

We ran in silence the rest of way to the shooting range, though I never forgot just who ran right next to me. Caden had a presence that couldn’t easily be ignored.

The outdoor shooting range was located on a stretch of the mountainside that had been flattened out. On all sides, large dirt mounds prevented stray bullets from finding their way out, and in the distance, images of gun wielding individuals had been set up as targets.

“Lucky you,” Caden said, “today Lieutenant Newman decided to have us practice on stationary targets.”

“Oh goody,” I said joylessly.

Day two of my humiliation was officially about to begin.

Twenty minutes later I stood at the edge of the shooting range with Caden. Just like Close Combat yesterday, my weaponry instructor, Charles Newman, had divided us into pairs and singles to practice our technique with ourselves.

I stood, feet shoulder width apart, handgun in my hand. It was loaded with oh-so-frightening paintballs, not that I blamed the facility. Arming imprisoned teenagers with loaded guns would be just plain stupid.

Caden studied my form. He bent and adjusted one of my legs. I couldn’t ignore the way his hands lingered. “Does that feel good?” he asked.

I blinked a few times at him before I realized he was referring to my center of gravity and not his hands on my leg.

I nodded, not trusting my voice at the moment.

He stood up. “Now raise the gun and grip it with both hands.”

I did as he said. He studied my form, lifting and straightening my arms further. I watched him, fascinated by this serious side of him. In his concentration, he’d let down his guard again, and I could see in his eyes how scary intelligent he was.

Altered intelligence. That was one of the mutations that Debbie had mentioned when she told me about the scientists who developed us. I wondered just how extensively they’d warped our genes.

“You know, I’m still angry with you,” I said casually as Caden adjusted my grip.

The seconds ticked by, and I almost thought Caden had missed what I said. Then he walked around me and leaned into my ear. “Only because you finally met someone who’s your match.”

His low voice brought goose bumps to my skin, and the hand that had been positioning my grip now skimmed along my arm. He knew exactly what he did to me.

“You prevented me from escaping,” I said.

He came around to face me. “No, the government did that the moment they made you. I just caught you a bit sooner than they might. But—” He leaned in conspiratorially. “I considered letting you slip through my fingers.”

I scowled at him. “What changed your mind?”

He lowered my arms, never taking his eyes off me. “The moment I saw you …” Something flickered behind Caden’s eyes. “You were real. Up until then you were just a phantom.”

“You talk about me as though you knew about me even before we met,” I said. I shifted my weight uncomfortably.

Caden’s eyes glittered. “That’s because I did. Ember Elizabeth Pierce, born on February twenty-eighth to Lila and Gordon Pierce in Buffalo, New York.”

Caught off guard, I stumbled back at his words. My grip on my paint gun tightened. Paintballs weren’t bullets, but at such close range they could do a whole lot of damage.

As if sensing where my thoughts were going, Caden twisted my wrist back and disarmed me.

“Hey—”

“We all have files, Ember,” he said, emptying the paintball gun of its ammunition and setting the colored balls on the table next to us. “I’ve memorized more than just yours, so you can stop feeling special.”

But mine meant something to him. That much I could tell.

“You were a teleporter who really had disappeared,” he said, getting back on topic. “At least on paper. A trail gone cold.”

I shook my head slightly. He’d known about me, thought about me, before he’d met me. And, judging by his voice and his mannerisms, I mattered to him, though I wasn’t sure why.

“And then the project found you, and I got to see you in the flesh. And now here we are, princess.”

“Can I have my gun back, stalker?”

His lips quirked at the name. “Not yet. You still look like you want to shoot me.”

“Stop that.”

He crossed his arms. “Stop what?” he said, tilting his head. “Reading you?”

I said nothing, which was answer enough.

He leaned in again. “I’m right, aren’t I?” he said, his voice rough.

I pulled away to look at him. “What?”

“It pisses you off that I’m your equal.” God he sounded so smug. And he was right. He’d bested me over and over again. That hadn’t happened in awhile, and it infuriated me.

I stared back at him. “You have me all figured out, don’t you?”

A slow smile spread across his face. “Not even close,” he said, “but I am making headway.”

And damn him, he was.

“That was a good start, but you can do better,” Caden said as we entered the main building of the facility.

“Shut up.” He was referring to my poor aim in Weaponry.

“You have superior eyesight and coordination; you know you can do better.”

I hid my reaction to his words. Now that I knew our genes were altered, I figured the project was to blame for the edge I’d always had growing up. Still, it was strange hearing Caden reaffirm my suspicions.

“You assume I care,” I said.

He watched me for a beat. “Eventually, you’ll have to.”

A shiver snaked up my spine as I read between the lines. At some point in the future I’d be in a situation where my aim would be the only thing that kept me alive. I hoped to get out of here before they made me into a killer.

Caden held the door open for me, and I walked in. The classroom didn’t look much different than any at my old high school—same fake wood desks and plastic chairs. Only the walls in this room were covered with posters and diagrams dedicated to the psychology of profiling people.

At the front of the room Debbie sat on top of her desk, watching students file in. Her gaze was distant, and when her eyes rested on me, she frowned.

“Here, sit by me,” Caden said, dropping his bag beneath his desk and tapping the seat next to him.

“What would you do if I said no?” I said, challenging him.

Caden’s eyes dropped to my mouth, and the corners of his lips tilted upwards. “Then I’d try harder to convince you.”

“Oh really?” I said, arching an eyebrow and moving away from him. “Because I’m not sure I want to sit next to you. I think I want to sit …” I looked around and grabbed the nearest desk—there were plenty open ones to choose from. “Here.” I plopped down at an empty desk and smiled at him.

We’d caught the attention of the few other students that had trickled in, most sitting in pairs. All were sequestered into male-female units.

Caden picked up his bag and moved to the desk next to mine.

I clicked my tongue. “That’s your attempt at convincing me?”

“You know, persistence goes a long way. After the fourth time you switch desks and I follow you, you’ll be convinced—or at least tired of moving.” He gave me a smoldering grin, and those adorable dimples of his deepened.

I caught myself staring at his dimpled smile. “Fair enough. I guess you can sit next to me.”

“As if that was ever really in question,” Caden said, leaning back in his seat and folding his arms behind his head.

I couldn’t smother my smile. Cocky.

I took in the room once more, now filling up. Again I noticed the strange pairs of students. Goosebumps broke out along my arms. An idea niggled at the edge of my mind, but I pushed it down. It was too twisted to think about.

Debbie began class a few minutes later. She flipped on a projector and an image of a person with flared nostrils and furrowed brows came on the screen. “Can anyone tell me what this person’s expression is?”

A teleporter raised his hand, and she called on him. “The individual is enraged,” the teleporter said.

I studied the image. “Not enraged.” The words just slipped out. Caden’s head swiveled to watch me, amusement and something strangely like pride on his face.

I hadn’t meant to talk; the more I shared, the more the project knew about me. But now I had to finish what I started. “Enraged is too strong an emotion,” I said. “This person is not out of control—yet. I’d say he was incensed.”

I felt Caden’s eyes on me. Appraising me. And again, I felt the same sense of pride coming from him.

Debbie nodded. “Good job Ember, and I’d have to agree with your analysis. Can anyone tell me what aspects of the individual’s expression give this away?”

The room opened to a discussion, and it wasn’t until five minutes later that another individual’s face was projected onto the screen.

Hooded eyes, dilated pupils, a small smile. I’d seen that expression before.

“Dude’s baked out of his mind,” Jeff said, and the class snickered.

No. Drugs didn’t create that expression, though something just as heady did.

Lust. That was the look of intense, unfulfilled desire.

“Nice try, Jeff,” Debbie said.

I held back from answering, despite desperately wanting to throw in my opinion. I’d never gotten to show off this knowledge. Some of my old friends used to joke that I was psychic; in reality I was just really good at reading these subtle physical features.

Someone else answered. “Desire.”

“What type?” Debbie asked.

“Sexual desire.”

The teleporter’s answer barely scratched the surface of the expression. This wasn’t just sexual desire, the desperate physical longing of another. The features lacked the lazy satiation or bright happiness that might indicate that some of that desire had been fulfilled.

“Very good,” Debbie said. “What are the signs?” The discussion took off again, and I forced myself to keep quiet.

Caden kicked the edge of my desk. “Why didn’t you answer that?”

I glanced at him. “What?”

“You knew the expression,” he accused.

“Were you watching me?” I whispered.

“Don’t turn this around on me. Why didn’t you answer?”

Like I was going to tell the very guy that captured me my reasons for staying quiet.

I smiled sweetly, but I’m sure the smile never reached my eyes. “I guess that’s just one more thing you’re going to have to figure out about me.”

He narrowed his eyes, and it took everything I had not to squirm. Caden knew I was holding back information, just not what. And thank God for that. If he knew my motives, knew my desire to escape, then I might not ever get the chance.

Caden might be my partner, but he was also the enemy.

Once our profiling class ended, Caden and I walked out of the room together.

“Ember!” Debbie called out my name.

I turned and regarded her through the doorway. Behind me Caden paused.

“Yes?” I said.

“Can you stay for a moment—Caden, you too.”

I raised my eyebrows at Caden. “Sure.” They really weren’t fooling around with this partner business; he seemed to be involved in everything I was.

We approached her desk and dropped our belongings.

“Ember, has anyone told you what role you’ll be playing during your simulations and eventually your missions?”

Missions. There it was again. Proof that we were going to be used as weapons.

Out of my peripherals I saw Caden tense up.

“Role?”

“I’ll take that as a no.” She grabbed a folder and came around her desk. “All students have been genetically modified in some way. These modifications give you certain advantages—things you have an affinity for. The Prometheus Project helps fine-tune these modifications through training. And partners train in tandem,” she said, giving Caden a sidelong glance.

“So what’s my role?” I asked.

She flipped open my folder. “‘Exceptional people skills—’”

I wanted to snicker at that one. Yeah right. That’s why I was so well liked at my last school.

“‘A remarkable ability to read people.’” She snapped the file closed and slowly eyed me up and down. “Athletic. Beautiful. You are a distractor.”

Out of my peripherals I saw Caden’s jaw work. At least he seemed as displeased by this news as I did.

“And Caden is an extractor,” Debbie continued as though she hadn’t heard me. “Those will be your main roles on these missions.

“What’s a distractor?” I asked.

“It’s literally someone who distracts our targets,” Debbie said. “You, Ember, will be focusing your missions on establishing trust with certain individuals and, to some extent, seducing them, while Caden extracts whatever it is that the government needs.”

“You’re joking, right?” Seduction?

“Stop looking queasy,” she said. “We’re not asking you to get physical with anyone. Just distract them.”

“You promise?” I asked.

She stared at me for a long moment. Her eyes shifted to the floor before she met mine again. “Promise.”

I knew that expression well. She was lying.

Chapter 11

Ticking. That was the first sound I heard.

“Ugh, not you again.” The voice came from behind me, bringing goosebumps to my skin.

Adrian.

I turned. He sat at a desk, a pencil behind his ear and a file folder in his hand. Open books and scattered papers were spread in a halo in front him. Sun streamed from behind pale curtains. Next to him was a grandfather clock, which was where the ticking came from.

I folded my arms. “Don’t you ever throw me out of a room again.”

His eyes narrowed. “I don’t respond well to threats.”

“Too bad,” I said. “I don’t respond well to being manhandled.”

He eyed me. “I won’t throw you out so long as you behave yourself while you’re here.”

“Fine.” I could deal with that.

My eyes moved from him to the natural light streaming onto the desk’s surface. “Not in the U.S. anymore?” I asked.

“What gave that away?”

I nodded to the window. “Sunlight.” I glanced down at myself. I wore a black fitted shirt and jeans, which suggested that I’d brought myself here, not the government.

“Why won’t you leave me alone?” He sounded tired.

I sighed. “I thought I went over this already. I don’t have control of where I appear.”

“Just—stop haunting me.”

I rolled my eyes and stretched my muscles. “I’m not a ghost.” My muscles ached badly from overuse. “Where are we?”

“As if I’d tell you.”

I walked to the window and pulled the curtain aside. I could see the Eiffel Tower in the distance. “Ah, Paris. Last time I was here I showed up naked inside Notre Dame. Talk about sacrilegious. I’ve never had so many people yelling at me in a foreign language before.”

“I’ve meant to thank you,” Adrian said, ignoring my confession. From his tone, he didn’t sound all that sincere.

I swiveled my body to face him and raised my eyebrows.

“I couldn’t access my father’s safe until the evening you did it for me,” he said. “He left … notes about his work, most of which have to do with people like you.”

“People like me?” Now that was news. I wondered what the government wanted them for. More importantly, I wondered what they said.

“It was some genetic project my father had been a part of two decades ago.”

“Was he—did he do this to me?”

Adrian furrowed his brows and frowned. “I don’t know.”

The next morning Coach Painter came into the gym where Caden and I waited with the rest of our class.

“Morning guys. I’ve got a good one for you today—sparring.”

Please no. Not another day of playing catch-up.

Caden looked like he was relishing the thought.

“Find a sparring partner and get to practicing. I’ll be calling you up two at a time for official matches.”

During the commotion, I made my way up to Coach Painter. “Coach?”

“Yes Pierce?”

I fidgeted. “I don’t know how to spar.”

“Well then, today’s your lucky day.”

“But Coach—”

“Pierce,” he said, putting his hand on my shoulder, “like most of the students in this room, people have undervalued you your entire life. I know you can do this. You’ll pick up the technique by watching what others do. But what I want students to learn—what I want you to learn—is that sparring is in large part thinking under pressure, improvising, and controlling your emotions. Can you do that?”

The way he phrased that question compelled me to nod my head—like I actually wanted to please the guy. It was only as I walked away, that I felt like I’d just gotten suckered into something.

When Debbie had shown this room to me, I hadn’t noticed the lines on the foam mats. Now that I noticed other students grouping around them, I could see the edges of eight practice arenas and one main arena where Coach Painter would referee official matches.

“Hawthorne! Sorenson!” Coach called. “You’re up!”

I watched Caden and Eric make their way up to the main sparring arena, put on soft helmets and gloves, and enter the ring. I edged closer. The two were giants. They tapped each other’s gloved hand and then stepped back.

Coach whistled and the two began to circle one other. Each constantly moved, staying on the balls of his feet. Eric attacked first, kicking high and aiming for Caden’s chest. Caden sidestepped the move and took advantage of Eric’s position. He spun and kicked Eric, the blow knocking the latter off balance.

Eric stumbled, and Caden used the moment to throw a few punches at Eric’s midsection. Eric fell, and once he hit the mat, Coach Painter blew the whistle.

They did this for two more rounds. The second round Caden lost—if landing on the ground was the determining factor.

I stayed and watched the last round, taking notes on how they shifted their weight, how they attacked, and how they defended each other. The two were powerhouses, and they moved with deliberation.

The more I saw the more reluctant I was to fight. I’d studied enough videos and practiced enough rudimentary skills on my own to know how to throw my weight into a blow, but I didn’t have any of the structure that Caden and Eric seemed to have.

I walked away from the main arena and eyed the rest of the room. I’d need to try out some moves if I didn’t want to mortify myself.

A sweaty arm draped itself over my shoulder. “Like what you saw, princess?” Caden asked.

I shrugged his arm off of me, but smiled. He must’ve seen me watching. “Don’t let it get to your head.”

“Too late for that.” His dimples appeared and his eyes glittered. “Want to practice?” he asked nodding to the practice rings.

“Yeah, that’d be great actually,” I said. “But I have to warn you: I don’t know anything about sparring.”

Caden wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. “You will once I’m through with you.”

Wasn’t he just so sure of himself? This time, though, I appreciated the confidence.

We waited for a ring to open up, and once one did, we walked over.

“Okay,” Caden said, turning to face me once we stepped into the ring, “when you begin, keep yourself grounded but your muscles loose. That means feet placed roughly shoulder width part, knees lightly bent, and arms held in front of your chest.”

I did as he said.

“Good,” he said studying my form.

Like in weaponry, some of Caden’s mask fell away, and I saw that he missed nothing. I wondered if I looked that way when I wasn’t aware of myself.

“Now when you begin, make sure to keep moving,” he said. “This will make it harder for your opponent to strike and easier for you to find an exposed weakness.” As he gave out instructions, a lock of golden hair fell in front of his face.

I brushed it away before I could stop myself. Caden’s eyes shot to mine, full of that same something I’d seen in them yesterday. A slow, smoldering grin spread across his lips.

I cleared my throat, ignoring the way my heart stuttered. “How do you notice an exposed weakness?” I asked, bringing us both back on topic.

His smile turned just sly enough to let me know that he could read me like a book. “That’s where your sleuthing skills come in. Some people are aggressive; usually that means they are overcompensating for a weak defense. The stronger, bulkier type tends to be slower. The key is to analyze your opponent’s strengths and weaknesses as well as their own perception of their skills.”

He adjusted my stance, moving my arms to better cover myself, pulling my torso back a bit. I tried to ignore the way my stomach tightened at his touch.

“What do you think my weakness is?”

Caden, who was still studying my form, looked up at me. The intensity of his eyes caught me off guard; he stared at me as though he could see every one of my secrets. I didn’t like it. It made me feel vulnerable.

“Well, I’d imagine that what you’ll initially lack is confidence. That only goes away with trial and error. But once you get the hang of sparring, I think your weakness will be how you perceive the opponent. I think you underestimate people—I think you believe most people are predictable.”

I wasn’t prepared for that, and the truth was a punch to the gut.

Caden’s eyes moved over me, missing nothing. He shrugged. “If I am right, then you’ll need to be very careful. Most of our classmates and the individuals in this line of work are anything but predictable, and they’ll take advantage of that weakness of yours.”

“Then how do I fix it?” I asked, not bothering to deny any of it.

Caden crossed his arms. “Oh, a few months here should take care of it.”

“Because … ?”

He gave me a dark look. “Because you’ll find out that no one here is who you think they are.”

“Pierce! Payne!”

I started at my name.

Caden’s hand squeezed my shoulder. “You got this, princess.”

“You’re a liar,” I said, “but I appreciate it.” We’d only been practicing together for a little over ten minutes; I still hadn’t gotten the hang of it.

I walked away from him, and I could feel his gaze still searing into me.

When I arrived at the arena, Coach Painter handed me a helmet and a pair of gloves to wear. “You ready?” he asked.

“Not even close,” I said, fitting the helmet over my head.

He shook his head. “Everyone’s got to start somewhere. Now get in there.”

I stepped into the ring and put on my gloves.

“Ready to get your ass kicked?”

I glanced up and groaned when I saw my opponent. Desiree Payne. What a fitting last name.

Unfortunately, she looked like she knew what she was doing; she wrapped tape around her hands before sliding her own gloves on. I hated the thought of getting owned by this prissy bitch.

My fists clenched inside my gloves and I studied her.

Cocky—that’s obvious. And it’s safe to assume she’s going to play dirty if she can.

She was a small, slight thing, so she would probably be quick. And I bet she had a great idea of what shots would place the most damage the quickest. Kidneys, face, and other soft tissue areas. Knowing this didn’t help much; it didn’t give me information on how to protect these three separate locations—head, lower back, and stomach—at once.

What was my strength? Desiree didn’t know me, she didn’t think highly of me, and she probably—accurately—assumed that I’d never sparred before. I was unpredictable, and she’d underestimate me.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Caden saunter over to the side of the ring. I turned to him and he gave me a thumbs up.

“Let’s begin!” Coach shouted.

My heart accelerated, though I didn’t let it show in my expression. Desiree and I approached one another, tapped gloves like I’d seen others do, and waited.

Coach Painter blew on his whistle. Showtime.

Desiree shot forward and punched me in the face. My head snapped back from the impact and I went down like a sack of potatoes.

So much for strategy.

Coach blew the whistle, signaling the end to round one. I’d only have to go through two more before I’d get the chance to scrape up the remnants of my pride.

I lay on the ground, staring at the ceiling. How had my life gotten me here?

“C’mon Pierce!” Coach shouted. “I need to see a little more effort.”

I began to laugh—it was that or cry. You’ve got to be freaking kidding me.

I pushed myself up off the ground and stared at my opponent. She smirked at me. “Had enough already?”

“Of you?” I asked. This girl had officially pissed me off. “Definitely. But your boyfriend?” I threw a quick glance over at Caden, so she’d be clear whom I was talking about. “I’m only just starting to have fun with him.”

I said it to get a rise out of her, and it worked.

Desiree’s lip curled and she snarled something nasty at me. Out of my peripherals I could see Caden pounding it with another guy. Men.

“Pierce! Payne!” Coach yelled. “Leave your baggage outside the ring, or you’ll be doing tardy exercises for an entire week—together.”

The threat was enough to pull our emotions in line.

“Round two: let’s begin!” Coach whistled.

Desiree rushed me again, but I wasn’t a fool. I ducked and punched her in the gut. Despite how bloodthirsty I was after that last comment, I couldn’t put much force behind my fist. It seemed wrong to practice like this on a peer.

I heard her grunt, her body bent over mine. I felt a shooting pain in my lower back as she drove her fist into my kidney—once, twice, three times. I collapsed in a heap on the ground.

“Fuck you,” Desiree whispered in my ear before backing away.

Did I mention that I disliked her?

I could hear the growing crowd jeering. Lucky me, I was their entertainment right now. So I stood up and did the one thing that I’d learned could diffuse teasing: going along with it. I smiled at the crowd and bowed.

The jeering turned into laughter, and it earned me a few claps.

I smiled and looked at my opponent.

Desiree shot me a dirty look. “You think this is funny?” she spat.

I could hear the frustration in her voice. She wanted to humiliate me, to cut me to pieces, but it wasn’t quite working out as she had intended.

“Round three!” Coach yelled, and the whistle went off.

This time Desiree didn’t pounce forward. Instead she watched me, shifting her weight from foot to foot. What was her strategy?

Stop thinking defensively, Ember, and do something.

I didn’t even let myself ponder it; I moved in on Desiree quick and aimed a punch at her face. She blocked it, and I clumsily followed it up with a jab to her stomach. She deflected my second attempt and began to strike out at my face.

“C’mon Pierce,” Coach yelled. “Put some confidence behind those punches!”

I shuffled backwards and used my gloves to help block the blows. But as soon as my arms lifted, she hit me hard in the stomach.

I stumbled back, and she jabbed me hard in the face, making my teeth chatter and my nose scream in pain. The force of the blow knocked me down.

Coach Painter whistled and the round ended.

Desiree bounded out of the ring, giving me a mean little smile as she passed me.

Slowly I rose to my feet. I pulled off my gloves and helmet and tossed them into the corner of the arena as Coach called for the next pair of individuals to meet at the arena. I pinched my swollen—but not broken—nose as I walked out of the ring.

Ridiculous. The whole experience was ridiculous. Why would I ever fight someone in such a controlled manner? That had only served to humiliate me.

“Pierce!” Coach called as I passed him. “Come here for a sec.”

I huffed and walked over to him.

He whistled and the next match began.

“What was that?” he said when I reached him, his voice rough with disapproval.

I gave him a disbelieving look. “You can’t be serious?”

“You let Payne walk right over you. You threw weak punches, put up a sorry defense, and never once analyzed the situation.”

“That was the best I could do,” I said, my voice shaky with anger.

“I know you can do better.” Coach turned from me. “Caden!” he called, beckoning him over. “I’m personally putting you in charge of making sure Ember practices sparring every day for the next month. Thirty minutes at least. Don’t let her get away with anything less—I’ll be grading you both on how well she does at the end of the term.”

Fantastic. I was beginning to learn that catching Coach’s attention was never a good thing.

Caden groaned. “Seriously Coach? We both saw her. It would take a miracle for her to be ready by the end of term.”

“Hey!” I said, indignant. He’d spent the last twenty minutes before my match reassuring me I’d be fine.

“Then I guess you better train Ember extra hard,” Coach Painter said, glancing over at me before continuing. “She’s going to need to be combat ready a couple weeks from now.”

Caden’s eyes widened. “Wait, what? Are they going to send her in that soon?”

One of the students in the ring went down and our conversation halted until the next round began.

“Her and the rest of your class,” Coach said. “They’re going to send in all teleporters of legal age soon.” Coach’s eye twitched, making me think that he was not okay with the decision.

“But that’s crazy!” Caden exploded.

Coach Painter lowered his voice. “This is not a discussion for class, and it is not a decision to openly question. The order came directly from Richards.”

For a moment I couldn’t place the name. And then it clicked—Dane Richards. He was the hard-looking man I met at my house the day I left, the figurehead of the project.

“But she’ll die if they put her in without proper training!” Caden continued.

Alarmed, my head snapped up.

Coach’s gaze flicked to me before he responded. “Yes, she will.”

Chapter 12

After dinner that evening, Caden hauled me back to the now-empty gym. I dragged my feet, my body achy from two days of intense work.

“Do we have to do this?” I pleaded with him.

He flipped on the gym’s lights. They flickered into existence, dim at first but brightening with every passing second. “Yes, we do.”

I grumbled. I could barely keep my eyes open, and I’d have to teleport before I finally got to rest.

Caden grabbed the equipment as I padded over to the ring, my feet squishing into the foam mat beneath me. He’d been moody and possessive since Coach Painter had told him that the project was planning on sending me on missions.

When he came back over, he handed me gloves and the soft helmet. “Trust me, you’re going to want to learn as much as you can before we get sent out. I won’t always be able to protect you.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “I never asked you to protect me. Despite what you think, I can take care of myself.”

Caden stepped into my personal space, and my breath hiked up at his nearness. “It’s easier to die than it is to live on these missions. I don’t have the luxury of trusting your word.”

He gave me that look. The one that made me think I meant something to him.

I pushed him away from me. “How do you think I survived for the last five years?”

“I don’t care how you spent the last five years,” he said, “I care how you’re going to spend the next five. And I’d prefer you to not be rotting in a coffin somewhere.”

“Fuck you,” I said, but I bent to put on the gloves and the helmet. He’d made his point. I didn’t want to die either. I just hated being underestimated.

I heard him suck in air as I did so.

I straightened up. “What?” I said, my voice dripping with hostility.

“You have a tattoo.”

My tense muscles loosened as my frustration seeped away. He must’ve seen the edges of it peeking out of my tank top. “So?”

“I just didn’t peg you as the type.”

I stared at him for a long moment. “What was that you said about perceptions being deceiving?”

He smiled, his earlier hostility ebbing away. “Ouch.” He drew closer, and studied my tattoo. “What is it?”

“It’s part of a wing,” I said, not elaborating and not offering to show him the whole thing.

I felt Caden’s finger touch it, my skin suddenly hyperaware of him. He ran his finger over the tattoo. “Huh.”

“What?”

“Your skin here isn’t smooth.”

“What?” When did that happen? I ran my hand over my shoulder blade where I knew the tattoo was.

Damnit, Caden was right; I could feel the raised veins where the original warped lines had appeared a week ago. They’d refused to disappear.

Caden stared at them, absentmindedly rubbing his neck.

“Is that your imprint?” he asked.

“My what?”

He shook his head. “Never mind.”

I could tell by the casual way he discarded the topic that there was more to it. Much more.

I guess I wasn’t the only one who kept secrets.

I gloved up and faced off Caden.

“Okay,” he said, “let’s just start with a practice round.”

“I think we’ve established that I suck at this,” I said.

“I’ll walk you through it this first time.”

“Great.”

“Let’s begin.”

I tapped his glove, and for the second time today I found myself sparring.

I shifted my weight from foot to foot and watched Caden, who waited for me to make the first move. His hazel eyes glittered mischievously, making it hard to focus on fighting.

“Don’t just stand there unless that’s part of your strategy. Hesitation is lethal.” He grinned, somehow knowing the direction of my thoughts. The urge to wipe that smile off his face overwhelmed me.

I moved in on him and brought my leg around, aiming for his chest. He caught it between his gloved hands.

“Whoa, why’d you never try this on Desiree?”

“I don’t know what sparring is. How was I supposed to know if I could kick the hellspawn?” That wasn’t my real reason for holding back though. I’d seen Caden and Eric kick each other, so I knew kicks were fine. No, it was that I still wasn’t comfortable with casual violence. Although Caden made it awfully tempting.

“Hellspawn?” Caden’s lip twitched.

“Let. My. Leg. Go.”

“I don’t think so.” Caden eyed me. “I kind of like the view.”

I huffed and, using my other foot, planted a kick to his chest.

Caden grunted but managed to capture my other foot.

The room blurred into shades of white and gray as I fell. I hit the foam mat, and my breath whooshed out of me.

Above me a halo of golden hair appeared. And then those dimples. Caden looked down on me, still holding my legs. “Now I’m really starting to enjoy the view.”

I huffed and twisted my legs out of his grasp.

He knelt next to me, propping his arm next to my head. “Remember to control your anger,” he said. “You’re fighting emotionally. It’s predictable.”

His statement renewed my determination.

I turned my head and studied the tan arm braced next to me. Sinewy muscles bulged against his skin. For a moment, I was fascinated that something as simple as an arm could look so alluring.

I ran my hand along it and Caden stilled. My eyes darted to his face. His eyebrows furrowed, confused, and a spark of something passed through them. I let my eyes drift down until they focused solely on his lips.

I glanced back up at his eyes, and noticed he was no longer confused. Instead they’d gained an intensity to them.

I wrapped a hand around his neck and pulled his head towards me, focusing on the way his chest crept closer to mine.

Just as our lips almost closed the distance, I brought my knees up to my chest. At the last minute I pushed my feet against his torso and flipped him over me.

Now it was my turn to kneel in front of him. “Remember not to fight emotionally—it’s predictable.”

“Jesus. It was worth it,” Caden said, looking dazed and pleased. “Who are you?”

We practiced for two hours. By the time we finished, sweat soaked my clothes and I thought my arms might fall off.  Caden beat me—over and over again—but he’d also taught me a handful of offensive and defensive moves.

I leaned against the wall of the gym, catching my breath, as Caden packed up our gear and turned off the lights.

He sauntered over to me, and I couldn’t help but notice how fluid his movements were.

God he’s sexy. No wonder he was a little shit all the time. With a face and body like his, he could get away with just about anything.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Just give me a moment.” Reluctantly I peeled myself away from the wall. I moaned. Every muscle ached. I thought today hurt—just wait until tomorrow.

“You okay?”

“Other than movement being painful, yeah.”

“Need help in the shower?”

I whacked him on the shoulder.

“Ow—hey! I thought movement was painful.”

I ignored the comment, and we left the gym together. For the first time since I arrived, I truly felt relaxed. Not content—I wasn’t sure I’d ever feel that way here—but at least relaxed.

“Let’s meet up for this again tomorrow afternoon,” Caden said as we made our way back to the dormitory. “Does four o’clock work?”

“Sure,” I said, trying not to make a face. Sparring and I were not amigos. But until I figured out a way to escape this place, I might as well learn how to fight. I just might need it.

Caden walked me to my room. The silence was comfortable, but my mind whirred away. “Hey Caden?” I finally said.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for taking the time to teach me to spar.” Although I didn’t much care for hand-to-hand combat, I meant every word I said. He was using his free time to help me out.

“Of course. You’re my pair.” The way he said pair sent a shiver up my back. As if we were more than just teammates.

“What does that even mean?” I asked, thinking about the strange pairings of students I noticed earlier today.

Caden shrugged, but his posture was stiff. He knew more than he was letting on.

“It’s just the way the program is structured,” he said.

I eyed him as he gave me a sidelong glance. “If the Prometheus Project wanted us in pairs, then why are there singles?”

Caden was quiet for a long time, and then he finally spoke.

“Their pairs are either missing … or dead.”

Chapter 13

I found myself in a dark, unfamiliar house.

Strange. I could’ve sworn I fell asleep thinking about my parents.

I moved through the house, rubbing my arms. Judging by the way my breath misted in front of me and the stark, standardized furniture, my guess was that no one currently lived here. I slipped into the master bedroom just to make sure I was right.

The empty bed confirmed my guess. I moved through the house. Two stories, three bedrooms.

I glanced out the window of one of the second-story bedrooms. Silhouettes of evergreen trees darkened the night sky.

Since I’d arrived at the facility, this trip felt the most like my normal nightly trips. That didn’t mean that the project hadn’t sent me here.

My clothes looked like something I’d normally wear. I snaked my hands into the pockets of my jeans. No cryptic messages rested inside them. I ran my hands through my hair, checked the shoes I wore.

No note. Nothing.

Strange. I couldn’t figure out how much control the project exerted over my nightly destinations. I was pretty sure my visits to Adrian were not set up by the project—and this trip seemed to be straight out of my own imagination—but I could be wrong. After all, I thought I’d fallen asleep thinking of my parents.

I walked to the kitchen, flipped on the light switch, turned out the drawers until I found what I was looking for. I opened up a folded map.

It was a state map of Montana. So that’s where I was.

I went back upstairs and checked out the rest of the rooms. The master suite I’d already seen, so I peeked into one of the other rooms. This one had a twin bed covered in a pastel pink comforter. A single stuffed animal had been placed near the headboard. A young girl’s room.

I crossed the hall into the other room. It was set up like an office, but it had no computer and no papers sitting out.

Furnished, but empty. Leaving the room, I went into the living room and laid on the couch. I rubbed my lower lip, thinking.

If the government sent me here, then why? And if they didn’t, then why wasn’t I at my parents’ house?

They were questions I didn’t yet have answers for.

“Morning, princess.” Caden slid into the desk next to me.

“Go away—and stop calling me that.” Thanks to my strange schedule, I was about to start my first etiquette class. Yuck.

“My, my, isn’t someone grumpy,” he said, pulling out a pen and a pad of paper.

“I hate morning people,” I grumbled. A stream of impeccably dressed, beautiful people funneled into the room.  I frowned. Morning people.

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of bed.” Caden said.

“Unless you have an industrial strength painkiller, you don’t want to be around me right now.”

“Sore?”

“What do you think?” I shot him a withering look.

“Morning, class,” said our instructor, Miss Elba by the looks of the loopy signature scrawled on the board. She had to be middle aged, but at first glance you wouldn’t know it. She was trendier than most of my classmates.

She walked down an aisle, her blue dress fitting her like a glove. Nearly two dozen sets of male eyes followed her. She glanced to either side of her and hummed affirmative noises as she passed.

It was only as she walked by my desk that she paused. Crimson nails drummed along the fake wood surface in front of me.

“New girl,” she said, “what’s your name?”

“Uh, Ember.”

“Hi Uh Ember. Straighten your posture, throw your shoulders back, lift your chin, and—before you do any of these things—” she eyed my stretchy pants and T-shirt, “go change into something halfway decent.” From across the room I heard Desiree snicker.

I felt my jaw slacken. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh honey, I am.”

So this was Etiquette. Essentially a place to pretend like good breeding still mattered. I would be happy to miss it. I slid my notebook back into my bag and stood up.

Next to me I heard a chair scrape back.

“Caden,” Miss Elba’s voice warned.

I caught his eyes and saw his hesitation before he reluctantly sat back down. It was strange to see someone so confident, so seemingly dangerous, take orders from someone else. But that’s what he’d been doing the whole time he’d been here I guess.

Still, there was something significant about his inaction, but I couldn’t pinpoint what it was that troubled me. After all, this had nothing to do with him.

“Make sure to come right back.”

“Yeah right,” I muttered.

“What was that?” she said.

“Nothing,” I gazed innocently at her, “just agreeing with you.”

I spent the next hour streaming a TV show on my laptop and painting my fingers and toes robin’s egg blue. If she wanted me to look nice, I’d waste the entire class period trying to meet her expectations.

I glanced at the clock on my computer.

Damn. I only had five minutes left before class got out. I threw on a fitted dress and a pair of heels. Then I rummaged through my makeup bag, swiped some mascara on and ran some lip gloss over my lips. All ready to go.

My etiquette class streamed into the hall when I walked back towards the classroom. Whoops. My bad.

Someone in the crowd whistled at me, and I self-consciously smoothed my dress.

Miss Elba was jotting something down when I entered. She stood up from behind her desk and appraised me over her reading glasses. “Ah, Ember, I see you decided to show up after all.”

“Just making sure I look decent.”

She took off her glasses, the movement making her loose curls shimmer under the florescent lights. “You think this is a game?” she asked, tilting her head. “That you’re here to have fun?” An edge crept into her voice.

“No,” I said. “I’m here because I have no choice. There’s nothing fun about it.”

She sighed. “Listen Ember, I didn’t publicly humiliate you because I enjoy hurting people.”

Oh really?

She could tell I wasn’t convinced. “You need to take this seriously,” she continued. “The government will be placing you in very dangerous situations. You must stand out for the right reasons—not the wrong ones. If you do not know how to conduct yourself professionally in these high stress situations, you will get someone killed—and that someone could be you.”

Later that afternoon I skipped training with Caden and instead laced up my running shoes. I had a lot of righteous indignation to burn, and I knew no better way of releasing it than going on a run. I had another reason as well; I wanted to check out the facility’s perimeter.

I nodded as I passed some other teleporters footsteps on my way to the back exit.

I pushed through the doors and looked uphill at the dirt path worn into the earth. I’d now attended classes twice outside, yet I still hadn’t gotten a good look at the fence that closed us in. Today I’d make sure I did.

I jogged uphill, eventually leaving the dirt trail to scout out the edge of the perimeter. Dry pine leaves crunching under my feet.

The air here was thinner but fresher, and I took deep gulps and breathed in the forest around me. I glanced back at the facility, now hardly visible between the branches and trunks of the coastal trees.

As I ran I let my emotions fuel me. My instructors’ unreasonable expectations, the government’s plans for me, Desiree’s presence in my life—it all pushed my legs harder.

Sweat trickled down my face and my sore muscles screamed at me. I didn’t care. I’d run until the endorphins could take away my pain.

I caught a flash of silver amongst the browns and greens that made up my surroundings. I slowed down and jogged closer.

A chain-link fence rose twenty feet into the air. It would’ve been an easy climb if razor wire wasn’t wound at its top. If I wanted to escape, I’d have to go under or through it.

Someone had mounted cameras along the fence, each roughly forty feet from the next. They were watching us, monitoring our movement near the perimeter.

I followed the fence uphill when a watchtower came into view. Inside I could make out an individual.

My gaze traveled down the length of the fence. Downhill I could make out another watchtower big enough to hold a person.

This wasn’t good.

On the other side of the fence, a dirt road ran parallel to it. I heard an engine in the distance and backed away into the trees, interested in what was heading my way. The seconds ticked by and slowly the sound increased, coming closer.

I caught sight of the car, some military vehicle that had been painted a lusterless mud green color. It moved slowly, and the men inside wore fatigues. I didn’t see any guns on them, but by the looks of them, they had to be armed.

They drove slow, watching the perimeter.

I cursed quietly. This place was highly guarded, which meant that escaping would be a much more long-term goal than I’d planned.

But, if I could find a way to escape, would I? I’d run once, and I’d gotten caught. I hadn’t been punished for it; however, if I ran and got caught again, I had a feeling the government wouldn’t be so lenient. And if I succeeded, I’d have to flee to Mexico; I’d have to leave the U.S. permanently.

With stakes that high, could I do it?

Yes.

I watched the car drive by and waited to see how long it would take for another car to drive the perimeter.

“You’re not leaving, princess.”

You’ve got to be kidding me. I couldn’t get a moment.

I whirled around to face Caden, whose eyes had a hard glint to them. I’d been so focused on the perimeter that I hadn’t heard him sneak up on me.

“You followed me,” I said. A spark of anger flared within me. Caden hadn’t caused it, my situation had. But the fact that he followed me here only fueled it.

He folded his arms, frowning. “You skipped training.”

I pushed past him and trotted back into the forest. “I didn’t feel like going,” I said. I needed to run off this new anger and to mull over what I should do now that I knew about the heavily guarded perimeter.

“Clearly.” Caden followed me, his voice flinty. “You were too busy trying to plan your escape.”

I whirled on him. “That’s right. I was. You just know me so well.” I went to push him, but Caden caught my hands the moment they touched his chest.

His gaze had softened, just as it had the day he caught and cuffed me.

“Stop it,” I said. “Don’t look at me like you care. If you cared, you’d know that I hate it here. If you cared, you’d help me escape.”

He wouldn’t let my hands go. “You think I don’t know how miserable you are?” he said, his eyes sad. “Give me more credit than that, Ember.” I flinched at my name. He never used it.

“You want to know how to leave this place?”

I nodded.

“I’ll tell you, but you have to win the information from me.”

“I have to win it?” What kind of offer was that?

He watched me as he spoke. “There’s a lake further up the mountain, beyond the shooting range.”

In my mind I mapped out where that might be from where I was. I had a good idea of where he was talking about.

“Get to it before I do,” he continued, “and I’ll answer a single question and do you a single favor.”

I raised my eyebrows. “You want me to race you to this lake?” A lake I’d never set eyes on.

“No,” he said. “I don’t want to race you at all, but if you want help from me, that’s my price.”

I rubbed my lower lip and weighed his words. I could tell that this was the best offer I’d get from Caden, and I didn’t have much to lose. “Agreed,” I said. “I’ll race you.”

His dimples peeked out. “I haven’t stated what happens if you fail to beat me.”

“That’s because I’m not going to,” I said with confidence I didn’t feel.

His dimples deepened. “Cockiness is an attractive feature in a girl, but don’t fool yourself. I don’t make bets lightly. You’re going to want to know my terms for when I beat you.”

I folded my arms. “By all means, state your terms.”

He smiled as he spoke. “If I get there before you, then you have to give up a secret. And that lake? You and me are going for a dip in it. Naked.”

Chapter 14

“What is it with you and getting me naked? Haven’t you already gotten an eyeful?” I asked, looking him up and down. Dappled light fell along his face, making his hair and eyes shine. I ignored the way it sped up my pulse.

“Not nearly.”

I shook my head. “Perv.”

“Perv—I’ve gotten upgraded from stalker.”

Wasn’t he the eternal optimist?

“Fine. I agree to your terms,” I said.

Caden might be fast and in better shape, but I wanted the win more than he did. I needed all the resources I could get if I was going to escape this place.

He put out his hand. “Shake on it.”

My hand gripped his, and we watched each other as we shook. A slow smile spread across his face. He thought I’d already lost. My grasp tightened.

I was going to take this guy. I had to.

He released my hand and bolted.

“Hey!” My legs began moving a second later.

Caden’s golden hair bobbed in front of me as he weaved between trees. His form shrank as he pulled ahead, and I had to stop myself from sprinting after him.

Slow and steady wins the race. This mantra had helped me win many races during cross-country season, and it would help me again today.

Only after Caden’s form disappeared far ahead of me did I speed up, my legs falling into a rhythm I could maintain. The trees flew by in my peripherals. It felt like flying. I continued like that for roughly a mile, moving in the rough direction of the lake. All the while I kept an eye out for my partner.

While I ran, I wondered whether our speed had been tampered with. I’d always been exceptionally fast. Now it seemed like just another altered gene.

A glimpse of golden hair pulled me from my thoughts.

Bingo.

I continued to build up my speed and shadowed him until I saw something glint between the trees. The lake.

I laid on my speed until I was sprinting. As I grew closer, a patchwork of water formed from behind the trees. I pushed my legs and burst through the foliage. Dirt became sand and then my toes splashed against the edge of the lake.

Leaning over, I took a moment to catch my breath.

A shadow fell over me. “Nice try, princess.”

Damn.

I looked up. My eyes followed the golden skin of Caden’s arms up to his face. He wore a cat-that-ate-the-canary smile.

I felt my lungs deflate. He’d beaten me. I’d have to find some other way to escape.

“I guess someone’s going skinny-dipping with me.” He didn’t even try to hide the glee from his voice. Caden had managed to sneak his way into seeing me naked for the third time. Amazing.

I ground my teeth together to prevent myself from arguing with him. A deal’s a deal.

Be a good sport about this Ember.

“Fine,” I said, pulling my sweaty shirt off. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Caden’s eyes zeroed in on my hot pink sports bra. He looked back up at me, his mischievous smile back in place. He slid his own shirt off.

Next came our shorts. I eyed Caden’s boxer briefs, which clung to his muscular legs, and discreetly swallowed.

Then I pulled off my bra and tossed it aside.

Caden sucked in a breath and froze, his gaze fixated on my breasts.

“Are you done yet?” I asked, folding my arms over my chest.

He recovered and skimmed his hands over the edge of his waistband. After flashing me a final smile, he slid his boxer briefs off.

Oh. My. God.

My eyebrows shot up. Seeing a man naked was a very different experience than seeing a man almost naked. And he looked pretty happy to see me.

Geez, were all man-things supposed to look that large?

“Stop objectifying me,” Caden said, “I’m not just a piece of meat.”

Just like that, his words broke the sexual tension, and I began to laugh.

“Now it’s your turn.”

Well, they broke the sexual tension until he said that.

I took a deep breath, trying to muster the confidence I always had during one of my trips. It wasn’t coming to me.

I’d been naked many times in public, thanks to my special ability, so why was this so difficult?

But I knew the answer. Teleporting was real, but it didn’t always feel that way—it often felt more like lucid dreaming. And it was easy to fake confidence when you only had to stick around for a few minutes.

Caden, on the other hand, saw me everyday, and he was quickly learning all my dark little secrets and idiosyncrasies. Being intentionally nude in front of him made me feel vulnerable.

With that poignant final thought, I dropped my panties.

Caden drank me in, his eyes shining too brightly.

I didn’t give him much time to look. I turned and began sauntering to the water. My legs trembled from the need to sprint into the lake as quickly as possible, but I willed them to move slowly.

As soon as I was thigh deep, I dived in the rest of the way, the water tingling my bare skin. My body arched in the water, my toes skimming the lake’s muddy floor. I cringed at the squishy sensation of the lake bottom. I was going to have to tread water if I didn’t want to touch it again.

By the time I surfaced, Caden had already gotten into the water.

He dunked his head and came back up, running his hands through his wet hair. My eyes roved over his shiny skin. The water dripping off of him made him look all the more sexy.

He caught me staring. “Like anything you see?”

I flashed him a smile. “Naw.”

“Liar,” he said. We both knew it too. He could read me just as well as I could read him.

“You can come closer,” he said, the water lapping against his body. “I promise I won’t bite.” Contrary to his words, he looked at me like he was poised to strike.

I shook my head, moving my arms and legs to stay afloat. “We’re partners, and if something weird happens here, we’re going to regret it tomorrow.” Already heat pooled in my stomach.

My eyes dropped to his lips, and then I glanced away.

He read between the lines and, never one to miss an opportunity, Caden closed the distance between us so fast you’d think he was trying to win a medal for it.

“Whoa,” I said, “back up buddy. That wasn’t an invitation.” My heart slammed in my chest and my stomach tingled uncomfortably.

Instead he wrapped an arm around my waist and used his own legs to hold us both afloat. “Better?” he asked, referring to the fact that I didn’t have to tread water now that he was doing it for the both of us.

And it was better, but he was now much too close and it made my breath hitch and my abs clench.

I put a hand on his pecs to push him away, but the smooth skin underneath my fingers captivated me. Without meaning to, I ran my hand down his chest, feeling every dip and curve of his muscles.

Beneath my hand, Caden stilled. “You have a secret that I want to know,” he said, his voice low. “A secret that you now owe me.”

I eyed him warily. I was about to feel naked in a whole new way. Strange enough, it seemed worse exposing a secret than it did exposing my skin.

He watched me for a long time. “Could you love me?” he finally asked.

What? That was the secret he wanted to know?

“What kind of question is that?” I asked.

“A simple one.”

“I don’t think that counts as a secret,” I said, carefully studying the way tendrils of his wet hair fell over his forehead and the slight dip his dimples made when they were thinking of making an appearance.

“Of course it counts,” he said. “It’s not something that you’d tell people about, thus it’s a secret.”

An emotional secret, that’s what he wanted from me. And from experience, these were always the worst to share. “Choose something else,” I said.

“No. That’s the secret you have to answer.”

My eyes focused on Caden. One corner of his mouth was quirked up, one dimple exposed. Despite the carefree look, his eyes were serious.

I was a woman of my word, so I’d answer this, though I hated how vulnerable it made me feel.

Could I love Caden? I rolled the question over in my mind.

My hand trailed down to feel the rough skin of his scars, his stomach tightening beneath my touch. He led a violent life, he was cocky and annoyingly protective … and he was the only guy I’d gotten to know who challenged me in all the ways that mattered. He was my equal.

I met his eyes. “Easily. I could love you easily.” The words burned coming out. Emotional secrets weren’t spoken because they were game-changers.

His eyes were intense. “God, I was hoping you’d say that.” And then he leaned down and kissed me.

My eyes closed as his lips pressed against mine, his free hand cupping the side of my face. Without thinking, I kissed him back, my arms sliding around his neck.

And then I felt all the heated areas where his skin brushed against mine. Suddenly, the entire situation came into hyper focus. I was naked with Caden in some lake on government property and we were only a few simple touches away from doing something really stupid—correction: something more stupid than what we were currently doing.

What was I thinking?

I broke the kiss off and pushed him away—this time for real. My ragged breathing matched his own.

“That—shouldn’t have happened,” I said.

Caden still gazed at me hungrily, clearly ready to resume where we’d left off. It took him a moment, but he eventually reined it in. “You’re right, that shouldn’t have happened.” He exhaled. “I have a confession to make.”

I stilled, the water gently slapping against my exposed skin. “And what’s that?” I asked.

“You beat me.”

Chapter 15

It took a second for me to register what he said.

“Wait, what?”

“You beat me here.”

“Wha …” I blinked, and for a moment the only noise was the water brushing against us.

I moved in on him and dunked him in the water. “You sneaky bastard!” I yelled at him as the water foamed and bubbled around us.

He came up laughing, wrapping his arms around my waist.

“No!” I said, pushing him away. “You don’t deserve a naked hug from me.”

I peeled myself off of him and made my way out of the water, no longer caring that I was stark naked.

“C’mon—it was worth it!” he called after me.

The most frightening thing about his statement was that it was. In spite of his manipulation, it was totally worth it.

Caden sat next to where I laid out on a rock overlooking the lake, soaking up the setting sun.

“Why did you admit that I beat you?” I asked. It had bothered me—why he’d admit to something once he’d gotten away with it if he knew it’d piss me off. Not that I stayed angry for long. I guess he’d already figured out that about me too.

“I like taking advantage of a situation, but I’m not a cheater.”

Light fingers traced my tattoo underneath the thin fabric of my shirt. I shivered from his touch, but I didn’t move his hand.

“Cold?” he asked.

“As if you don’t know what you do to me,” I said, calling him out.

I could practically feel his smug smile. Now that he knew my feelings, Caden had wasted no time coaxing those feelings to the surface.

His fingers paused. “Did this hurt to get?” he asked, referring to my tattoo.

“Like hell.”

He resumed tracing my tattoo. “Why’d you get it?”

I flipped onto my side and propped my head up so that I could see him better. “You already got one secret out of me that wasn’t yours to take; I’m not giving you another.”

He gazed at me, his expression heated. My heart pounded. Things between us already felt different. Not only had Caden been up to no good since I divulged my secret, but I’d also seen him in a different light since—like he might be someone I could get close to. The thought of us together made me feel lighter than air.

But it couldn’t be. Not if I wanted to escape.

“You now owe me a question and a favor,” I said.

Caden’s smile dissolved and his body tensed. “I do. What do you want?”

I gave him a sly smile. “I have to think about it. Unlike someone I know, I don’t like making quick decisions.”

“Hesitation is lethal.”

I stared into his hazel eyes. So many different colors made up the complex pattern of his irises. My confession earlier was painfully true. I could easily fall for him. And Caden was right, this hesitation might just be lethal. To my plans.

I blinked, trying to adjust to the darkness. I did a couple of stretches and shook out my muscles, loosening up my taut body.

Around me was what looked like an outdated office. I glanced down at my outfit. My breath caught at the sight.

I wore black jeans and soft leather boots. But it was the shirt that distracted me. The face of an angry man rested above the phrase, Big Brother is watching you.

I checked my pockets and pulled out a tiny flashlight and a note.

Bottom desk drawer. Third cabinet from the top.

Same handwriting as before.

Don’t do it Ember. Don’t look.

These notes had only caused me trouble. In spite of that, I clicked on the flashlight, and when the weak beam of light passed over a desk, I walked over to it.

Built into the side of the desk were three drawers. I knelt down and opened the bottom drawer and aimed the light inside. Some used paper clips, a rubber band ball, and a roll of duck tape.

Why did the note lead me here? I mulled over the slip of paper some more. And then it clicked. The note didn’t say that I’d find anything in the bottom desk drawer.

With that realization, I felt below the drawer. My fingers skimmed over rough wood until they moved over a small bump. Something was tapped beneath it.

I peeled away the tapped item and flipped it over in my hands. A key.

I focused my attention back to the note. Bottom desk drawer. Third cabinet from the top. The bottom drawer had been the third cabinet from the top, but I doubted the note wanted me to only find this key. After all, I couldn’t take it back with me. No, I was supposed to use it.

I shined the flashlight over the rest of the room, pausing as my light passed over a tall metal filing cabinet. I counted four drawers, all which had a keyhole next to the handle.

I walked over to the drawers and tried to open a cabinet. Locked. I pulled the slip of paper out again. Perhaps the second sentence referred to something other than the desk’s drawers—perhaps it referred to the filing cabinet. I crouched down on my knees so that I was eye level with the third drawer from the top. Next to the handle was a key slot. I jammed the key in and turned.

Files were crammed into the drawer. I shined the light on each manila file folder. Each one had a tab with words Prometheus Project and a name taped on.

I pulled out the file on Gregory James. On the front of the file folder the word Expired was stamped in red.

A tremor ran through my hands as I opened the folder. Inside someone had paper clipped a picture of Gregory. Beneath the picture was his basic information. According to the document, Gregory was three years older than me and a teleporter—not that I had assumed otherwise. But it was the words at the bottom of the page that caught my attention.

Cause of death: Acute hemorrhaging caused by gunshot wound to the chest. Splicing.

I swallowed and flipped through the rest of the folder. The photographs on the following pages illustrated in graphic detail Gregory’s brutal death.

A wave of nausea rolled over me. He didn’t appear to have died from a single bullet wound. No, judging by the way most of his insides were exposed, splicing—whatever that was—had caused it.

I shoved the file back into the drawer and grabbed another with the name Danielle Jackson written across the top. It too was stamped with the word Expired in red. And like Gregory, one of Danielle’s causes of death was splicing.

I shoved her file back in the drawer and pulled out a few more. All roughly my age, all involved in the Prometheus Project, and all expired. Each cause of death included one violent injury—such as a knife or gunshot wound—and this strange new term, splicing.

It took a moment to put two and two together, but when I did, my body swayed, and I stumbled back to regain my footing.

Of course. These wounds must’ve been sustained while these teleporters were on a mission. And when they materialized back in their beds … well, instead of their bodies stitching themselves back together, something went very, very wrong.

I’d bet serious money that the rest of the files all had that same red Expired label stamped onto them and that they all died in the same gruesome manner.

My skin prickled. Splicing. This was how we died.

Monday morning I finally made it to breakfast in the dining commons on time. It had been a week since I arrived, and slowly I’d been accommodating to my new life here.

I plopped down in one of the two empty seats next to Jeff, my tray clattering against the table. Ever since I started eating with them, Caden’s group of friends had left two spots open for the both of us.

A few minutes later Caden sat down next to me. “Good morning, princess.”

“There is nothing good about mornings.” I rubbed my eyes. The world still had that hazy look to it.

“I think your shirt’s on backwards,” Eric said.

“Don’t care.” I spooned a tasteless bite of granola into my mouth. The food here seriously needed some upgrading.

Caden reached towards me and grabbed a white fabric tag that stuck out just beneath the base of my throat. “And it’s inside out,” he said, using the tag to tug me towards him.

His face was way too close, and it was doing strange things to my stomach. “Says the man with coffee breath.”

Caden smiled, his dimples appearing. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Oh, it is.”

“Would you two please get a room?” Serena said.

Before either Caden or I could respond, Debbie entered the room. The noise level dropped to a whisper before it vanished altogether.

“Good morning everyone,” she said. She had the whole room’s attention. “As many of you may have heard, this week all students over the age of eighteen will begin simulations.” The room erupted into whispers. As I glanced around, I noticed that most people appeared nervous—even those who couldn’t be old enough to participate.

“Because this will take all day, each day this week, those participating will be placed on independent study for the duration of the simulations. Your instructors have emailed you assignments that you are to do each day, so make sure to check your email.

“After breakfast a list will be posted on the dining hall with the date and times of each simulation—you each are scheduled for two. If you’re a pair, you’ll be participating in the simulation as a unit.”

My hands began to shake at her words. The tremors worked their way up from my hands to my arms and shoulders and then my back.

Caden eyed me. “Are you okay?” His gaze was too intense, too concerned. All I could do was nod and look away.

I hadn’t told him about the office. Since I’d teleported there, I’d been scared shitless about getting spliced. Teleporting was dangerous enough as it was. Now that we were going on missions, the chance of someone getting hurt only multiplied on itself, and with it, splicing.

“You are each to be in your rooms thirty minutes before your simulation. Remember your training—these simulations will be incredibly real, so don’t take them lightly. You can still get hurt.”

My foot began to jiggle under the table. There they were—the words I dreaded to hear.

A hand squeezed my leg, and I met the pair of eyes it belonged to.

“It’s going to be okay,” Caden said, giving me a meaningful look. “We’ll be doing this together. I’m going to personally make sure nothing happens to you.”

I nodded and gave him a tight-lipped smile. His words should’ve reassured me, but instead, thoughts of Caden getting hurt filled my mind. If he was busy watching my back, who’d be watching his?

Already I could feel my hesitation that day at the lake twisting in my gut. Somehow Caden must’ve known that getting that one secret out of me was the key to keeping me here. Because I might want to survive, but I hadn’t run yet, and he was the reason why.

I turned to Caden. He must’ve seen something flicker through my eyes as I stared because he tilted his head and smiled slyly.

Had I even won that race? Or had this been another one of Caden’s tricks? What if he wanted to see what I’d do when he offered freedom to me—whether I’d hesitate or go for it?

I pushed out of my seat. I couldn’t tell what was real and what was just me overthinking. Damn this place; it was giving me a headache. If the simulations didn’t kill me, the psychological warfare would.

I headed back into my room without peering at the taped announcement. I logged into my computer and checked my emails for the first time since the night I arrived.

Over fifty new messages filled the screen. I deleted the spam first and glanced over the remaining emails.

My chest tightened when I realized that none of them were from Ava or my parents. Before I went through the rest of my emails, I wrote each of them a message, explicitly asking them to write me back.

Once I sent those out, I flipped through the rest of my inbox. Many of the others were emails from various instructors—including the dress code for Etiquette. Whoops. One of the most recent ones went over the simulations again. I skimmed over the first paragraph and deleted it when it told me nothing new.

I read over the messages containing my homework assignments for the week. My blood pressure rose at the coursework I had ahead of me. It wasn’t that there was too much, it was that all my assignments looked like gibberish to me. I didn’t know how to assemble an SSAK-47, nor did I know the proper way to insert a 9mm magazine into a Glock 19.

My instructors were right, I wasn’t ready to be put in the field. Not even close.

I spent a few more minutes on my email before deciding to close out. As I moved my cursor to log out, my computer pinged and a new email popped onto my screen. I read the title.

Greetings from Your Former Victim

The email address was a random combination of letters and numbers meant to hide the true identity of the sender. I thought I knew who this was from. I clicked on the heading and opened the message.

Ember,

Thought you were the only one who could do the stalking? Unfortunately for you, I’m resourceful. Finding your email address was too easy. But what I’m really writing about is the Prometheus Project.

Listen Ember, I’ve decided to trust you, mostly because you’re way too incompetent to be a threat. Because my life’s in jeopardy—thanks to you—I’ve been doing some research on you and the government project you’re a part of.

I don’t yet know much about it, other than it’s dangerous for you and all others involved. If you can find me again, I’ll explain this in less cryptic terms. For now, stay safe and try not to be too trusting of authority figures.

Sincerely,

You Know Who

P.S. If you don’t want any more stalkers, take your email address off of your Facebook account.

Adrian. He’d been ballsy—or stupid—enough to send me an email. At least he hadn’t written his name. I didn’t know how much of our messages the project rifled through, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they accessed our emails.

I opened a reply box. Making sure not to include any identifying information about Adrian, I typed up a brief reply.

Hey Creeper,

First off, I am not incompetent, and do I need to mention again that I saved your life? Second, thanks for the warning. Third, I’ll try to see you soon.

Kisses,

E.

I hit “Send” and closed my laptop. Damn my life was so screwed up.

I worked on what I could for the next two hours. Just as I was about to take a break, someone knocked on my door.

“Come in!” I yelled, not taking my eyes off of my laptop screen.

The door opened and a man and a woman in uniform peered in. “Ember Pierce—are you ready for your simulation?”

“Simulation … ?” Crap. Double crap. I hadn’t checked the freaking schedule.

“Uh,” I cleared my throat, “I mean—yes, I am ready,” I said, sliding off my bed and into a pair of flip-flops.

“Good,” the man said, “Come with us.”

A million thoughts flew through my mind as I walked through the facility with them. Where were we going? How would this work if I wasn’t tired? Would I do alright? Was I going to get hurt? Where was Caden? How many people would see me naked when I returned?

I stared at the stark white walls and listened to my sandals slap against the linoleum.

The two individuals in uniform stopped outside a door and knocked. A woman in a white lab coat answered the door.

“Yes?” She looked behind them at me. “Ah,” she glanced down at her clipboard, “Ember Pierce?”

I nodded, and she opened the door wide to let me in. I glanced around the room. This place was a strange cross between a laboratory and a control room. On the walls closest to me were cupboards and drawers. Medical supplies rested on the counter that ran along one of the walls.

Against the far walls, a series of computers had been set up. In front of them two technicians typed away. Above the computers were rows and rows of T.V. screens, all currently lifeless.

Finally, in the middle of the room, a bed awaited—the kind you normally find in a doctor’s office. I guess I knew where I was sitting. Next to it rested a small desk, and on it, another computer.

“Go ahead and take a seat,” the woman said, gesturing towards the bed. Reluctantly I sat down on it, the cheap paper crinkling beneath me. The scientist walked over to the desk and picked up a folder.

“What will I be doing in this simulation?” I asked.

“Whatever it is that you do best,” she replied evasively.

“How will I know what to do and when?”

“That’s for you to figure out.” She gave me a tight-lipped smile, the kind that made it clear she was tired of answering my questions.

I shifted my weight, crinkling the paper further.

The female scientist muttered to herself as she read the file. Then she snapped it shut and came over to me.

She swabbed the crook of my arm.

“What are you doing?” I asked. The question came out a tad more hostile than I meant it to.

“Swabbing your arm,” she said, like I was the world’s biggest idiot.

“I mean, why?”

She pulled out a syringe and a glass vial filled with clear liquid. “You’re going to be sedated so that we can initiate your teleportation.”

My mouth formed an O. That made sense. I watched as the syringe extracted fluid from the vial. Once it was full, the woman tapped on it a few times.

“Where’s Caden?” I asked.

The woman looked away from the syringe to focus on me. “Is that your pair?”

I nodded once.

“He’s in another room. For the practice simulations, the project heads are interested in isolating teleporters beforehand to better analyze you alone.”

“So I’m being watched and graded right now?” I asked.

“Of course.”

So now, if the project heads were watching and interested, they’d know I asked a lot of questions. That was probably not a good thing.

The woman in the lab coat sat down in the chair stationed next to my bed, and watched a clock on her computer. The seconds seemed to stretch out, but at some point she turned away from the computer.

“Ready?” she asked, taking hold of my wrist.

“Do I have a choice?”

“No.”

“Then go ahead I guess.”

The needle slipped under my skin, and I squirmed as I watched the fluid leave the syringe and enter my bloodstream.

The sight terrified me. I was now helpless.

Within seconds the affects began to hit me. My eyes drooped, the room swayed, colors blurred together. Just before my eyes closed I had one final, lucid thought: this was the second-to-last place on earth that I wanted to be. As for the first, I’d be there shortly.

Chapter 16

I stood in an alleyway between two buildings. It was night here. Looking down at myself I wore a shimmery sequined dress, and a gold bracelet ringed my wrist. I took a closer look at it and noticed on the underside of my wrist the gold gave way to a digital timer. I smiled to myself as I watched the seconds tick away. They’d given me something to time my visit.

Further down I wore stylish ankle boots. Not the best for running, but I could make do. Sticking out of one of them was a piece of paper.

Use the back door. Second floor, first door on the left.

My heart dropped. The note was in the same handwriting as all the others. I didn’t know what it meant. Why had the government sent me—before they’d even reached out to me—to kill Adrian or break open his safe, only to then send me to that office and look through those awful cases of spliced teleporters?

When I looked up from the note, Caden stood in front of me.

“Jesus!” I staggered backwards and clutched my heart.

“You okay?” That was the second time he’d asked me that question today. I wondered if my craziness was starting to show.

“I’m fine.”

“Good, then let’s go.”

I didn’t have a clue what we were going to do, so I let Caden lead the way, making sure to use the time to admire the way his muscular back rippled under his fitted shirt.

We walked down the alley until we came to a door that had been cracked open.

Caden held it open. “Ladies first.”

I slipped through and Caden followed behind. We continued down a dark hallway. Strobe lights and obnoxious techno music pulsed at the far end, but that wasn’t our destination. A chained-off staircase branched off the hall.

My heart began to hammer in my chest as soon as I saw it. Whatever we were looking for was up there.

Caden took my hand and gave it a squeeze, his eyes trained on mine. “Focus on your breathing—in and out.” I followed his instructions. It did relax me—until I glanced at our entwined hands.

Quickly Caden was becoming something more than just a partner, and now he was risking his life alongside mine. The thought filled me with dread. I didn’t know how to look out for others during these trips; I’d never had to before.

He let go of my hand and climbed over the chain. Reluctantly I followed him, and together we climbed up the stairs.

When we reached the top, a curved corridor spread out in front of us. Exposed light bulbs hung down the hallway, barely giving off enough light to see clearly. Up ahead was the door on the left.

Caden grabbed my arm as I began walking towards it. He spun me around and put a finger to his lips. I nodded. He then placed himself in front of me. From his pocket he pulled out a gun. I stiffened at the sight.

No. I didn’t care what kind of simulation this was, a gun was a gun, and if used, we could still get spliced.

I shook my head frantically. I was supposed to be the distraction after all.

Caden gave me a look to let me know I was insane to ask him to put away his weapon. He fiddled with the gun, and I heard a click. Whatever the sound indicated, his expression told me that he had no intention of disarming himself.

“Caden, no,” I whispered.

“I didn’t just teleport here with a weapon to be a peacemaker,” he whispered back.

“Fine, then stay here while I try to be one.” I got up and began walking to the door again, shaking out my hands as if that would rid me of my nerves.

“Ember—no,” Caden said, shadowing me. “Whatever’s in there is dangerous. You can’t go in alone.”

I turned to him and pointed a finger at him. “Stay back there.”

“You don’t know what you’re doing. You haven’t had enough training yet.”

“Just listen to me for once,” I said, pushing him back.

I pushed a little too hard.

Caden hit the hallway wall. I saw the moment of impact, and the way the whiplash ran down his arms. His wrists snapped as they hit the wall, and a shot exploded from the gun. The sound rang in my ears long after the bullet was fired.

Epic fail.

“What the fuck Ember?”

I never got the chance to reply. Almost immediately the first door on the left opened, along with three others further down the hall; it happened so fast that these doors must’ve been guarded from the inside. And out of them poured more scary looking individuals than the time I teleported into a biker bar. And they all were armed. So much for trying to avoid splicing.

Caden pushed me behind him, braced the gun with both hands, and fired several shots. I only had time to see a few people fall before Caden grabbed my hand and we ran for dear life.

“What were you thinking, Ember?” Caden yelled as we flew over the stairs.

“I just didn’t want anyone to get hurt.” It sounded ridiculous now that several men were bleeding out their lives behind us.

“We’re partners,” Caden shouted over the pounding music. “You can’t just go rogue on me and decide to do your own thing.”

“I thought this was a simulation!” I yelled, using anger to cover up my fear.

“It is—that doesn’t mean it’s not real.”

What the hell?

We hopped over the chain. Behind us gunshots rang out, and sparks bounced off the metal railing behind us.

Caden turned for the exit and I yanked him in the opposite direction. “Out there we’re exposed.” I glanced at my clock. Six minutes and fifty-seven seconds. That was an eternity when someone was after you. If we ran down an empty street, we might survive, but chances were we’d get hit. And then spliced.

“We have too long to wait before we go back to the facility,” I said. “We’re going to have to hide within the club.” The crowd would conceal us.

After a moment’s hesitation, he nodded. The pounding music was so loud that the sound drowned out all other noise. We wound our way through the club, the club goers oblivious to the fact that multiple gunshots had been fired in the building.

As we passed the dance floor, Caden tugged us towards it. We slipped between other warm dancing bodies until we were snug in the middle of the crowd. My body pressed itself flush against his, and I looked up at him. His eyes moved over the sea of people, then quickly moved back to my own. “Don’t look anywhere but me.”

“I think I know how to blend in Caden.”

“Oh really? So that’s what you were doing upstairs when you attacked me.”

“No one told me this was going to be real!”

“Real or not, you don’t attack your partner—ever!”

“You could’ve just trusted me! I was trying to do my job as a distractor!”

“You’re not ready!”

“Our bosses seem to think I am!”

Caden’s eyes flicked away from mine as something on the edge of the dance floor caught his attention. His eyes moved back to mine, but only for a moment, and then he leaned down and kissed me.

Adrenaline thrummed through my veins, but right now it screamed at me to run from the danger—not kiss the man in front of me. I tried to push away, but Caden’s arms tightened around me, his lips parting my own.

His tongue caressed mine, surprising me enough that my muscles loosened and I responded. My lips moved over Caden’s, my tongue pressing back against his. He tasted like a dare, like a challenge I’d gladly accept, and his touch tempered my skittishness.

I snaked my arms around his neck and swayed my hips in time to the music. I was sure he could feel how I trembled. My mind could distract itself from what had happened, but my body couldn’t.

Caden’s hands slid down to my sides, and he followed the rhythm. For what seemed like an eternity we stayed like that. The guilt that tightened my chest never seemed to fully go away, but Caden’s presence demanded most of my attention.

Eventually, I pulled back long enough to gaze at him, my eyes moving between his. Just beyond him, I felt another pair of eyes on me.

I glanced past Caden. An Asian man with tats all over his face, neck, and arms, stood at the edge of the dance floor, and he stared right back at me.

For a moment neither of us moved. But I knew I’d been found out. Someone who was innocent wouldn’t be staring at him with the same wide eyes I was.

“Caden, move,” I said, not taking my eyes off the man.

“What?” Instead of moving, he tried to shield me with his body, scanning the club to find whatever had spooked me.

The man raised his weapon.

“Gun!” I screamed, pushing Caden down. The strobe lights cut the events into frames. One moment the girl to my left was fine. The next, a bullet tore through her arm. I cupped my hand over my mouth to muffle my scream.

Around us I could see others screaming, but I couldn’t hear them over the sound system. My eyes trailed back to the girl, who clutched her arm close to her. Rivulets of blood snaked between her fingers.

I felt the bracelet I wore vibrate twice, and then I vanished.

I woke up in a hospital bed in a different room. A thin cloth sheet covered my now-naked body. Next to the bed someone had neatly folded my clothes. I rubbed my eyes and sat up. A cloth partition hid me from the rest of the room.

I kicked off my sheets, scrambled out of the bed, and shoved my clothes on. My whole body trembled, and I thought I might be sick.

That girl—was she okay? And all those people Caden had shot at the beginning of our simulation—had they died?

Awful, noxious guilt settled in my stomach. I’d tried to do the right thing; I’d tried to avoid violence by insisting that I distract the targets. The whole thing was terribly ironic because in the end I’d pushed Caden, and that had led to a great deal of violence.

I slid the cloth curtain aside. The clock above my head indicated that it was 3:30 p.m. I’d been asleep for hours. Across from me sat two women in scrubs; both read magazines and neither bothered to glance up when I poked my head out.

On either side of me similar cloth curtains hid what had to be other teleporters sleeping off the sedatives. At least I knew how they choreographed when we appeared at a location.

I squeezed my eyes shut. What had I been thinking? I knew a mistake could be lethal; I just had assumed it was me who’d get hurt.

I left the room. I had no idea where I was in the maze of the facility, but the more I walked, the more urgently I needed to escape. I began jogging, and when that didn’t help, I accelerated until my muscles burned.

I sprinted down a hall, unsure of where I was and where I was heading, hooked a right, and turned down another. At the end of this corridor, I spotted the dining hall. At least I now knew where I was.

I flew past it and a confused Eric.

“Ember, you okay?” the blond teleporter called after me.

I didn’t—couldn’t answer him.

A minute later I crashed into my room. I wasted no time peeling off my clothes and starting the shower.

Before the water had a chance to heat up, I got in and began to scrub away blood that hadn’t teleported back with me. I scrubbed until my skin was pink and raw, and then I cried.

The heaving sobs shook my body, and I covered my eyes with a hand. I couldn’t wash away guilt.

I don’t know how long I stood in the shower like that, but at some point I heard pounding on the door. I made no attempt to move. They’d go away eventually.

After a while the sound stopped. Just when I was about to relax, I heard the door open and close and someone’s heavy footfalls cross my room.

“Ember!” Caden shouted from the other side of the bathroom door. “Ember!”

My legs buckled and I slid down the wall of the shower. I didn’t want to face him yet. And I didn’t want him to see me like this. Weak.

“If you don’t answer me and let me know you’re alright, then I’m coming in!”

I opened my mouth to make him go away, but no words came out.

The door opened, and I squinted up at Caden, water dripping from my face. At least it hid my tears.

He took me in for a moment, and then he slid into the shower, clothes and all, and wrapped his arms around me.

I leaned my forehead in the crook where his neck met his chest. “I’m so sorry Caden. I’m so, so sorry.” I’d never been exposed to that kind of violence before, and now it was all I could see when I closed my eyes.

“Shhhh.” He traced the edges of my tattoo, and I slid my arms around him, not caring that I was naked. “You’re okay.”

“But they aren’t.” My voice broke.

“The people at the club? The girl will be fine. I saw the wound—it missed all vital arteries. And those with the guns … it was them or us.”

His words only slightly eased my guilt.

His hand slid under my chin and he brought my face up to his. “Don’t play the blame game Ember,” he said, his eyes moving back and forth between mine. “This isn’t your fault, no matter what I said to you during the simulation. Someone else decided to give us this life and someone else decided to fuck with our genes. And now someone else is using us to play God.”

I curled my hand around the one that held my chin up. His words tapped into that place inside me that had been untouchable, that place that I’d held away from everyone.

I wasn’t alone in this.

My gaze moved from his eyes to his mouth. I slid my other hand behind his neck and brought my lips to his.

For a moment Caden stilled, and then his hold tightened. I parted my lips to deepen the kiss, pulling myself even closer to him. Even that wasn’t enough to satiate my desperate need.

I tugged at his wet T-shirt, and we broke off the kiss so that he could pull it over his head.

“God Ember,” he said, leaning his head against mine, “You can’t know—”

I stopped him with another deep kiss. I couldn’t think enough to process any confessions he made about his feelings, and I definitely wasn’t in the right mind frame to return them, no matter how much I liked him.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and straddled him, pressing my chest against his. I’d never been this forward before, but I’d also never been this close to so much death.

Caden made a noise at the back of his throat, and he gripped the outside of my thighs.

I moved against him and he broke away from the kiss. “Jesus,” he said, his eyes hooded, “you need to stop or else I can’t promise this won’t go any further.”

“I’m fine with that,” I whispered.

He pulled his face away from me to study my expression. Whatever he saw caused his brow to crinkle and me to sober up. “I don’t think you are Ember. I’m sorry, but I don’t think you are at all.”

My face fell, and I didn’t have the energy to hide my hurt. Caden’s brow furrowed and he cupped my chin. “I’ve spent all this time trying to figure you out, but you, I don’t think you’ve even tried figuring me out,” he said. “Otherwise it’d be obvious that I like you. I like you so much that it’s seriously starting to concern me.”

At his words I could feel my sadness and guilt ebbing, replaced by a wonderful kind of curiosity. In spite of myself I cracked a smile. He noticed my smile and leaned in and gave me a quick kiss. “So happy to see that smile again, princess.”

The kiss took me by surprise, and I grinned a little more after he pulled away. In spite of my dark mood, my stomach felt bubbly and light, like I could laugh for hours.

Caden eyed me. “Don’t think this,” he moved his hand between the two of us, “is over. Because whatever this is, it’s just beginning.”

Chapter 17

I slumped in the guest chair I found myself in. Across the desk Dane Richards sat, hands folded, assessing me. I knew things were bad when he made a special visit to the facility and called me in for a late night meeting just to rip me a new one.

“What were you thinking?” he said.

My eyes lifted from the linoleum floor. Rather than looking at Richards, I focused my attention on one of the plaques hanging behind him. They had words like honor and courage written on them. I was starting to think that I had no idea what those words really meant.

“I was trying to use my skills as a distractor,” I said, my voice hoarse. It had been a day since the simulation, and I still felt as emotionally raw as when I’d been at the club. I’d messed up. Bad.

“Uh huh,” Richards said, appraising me with his eyes. “If I remember correctly, we don’t train our distractors to push their partner while they are holding a loaded gun.”

I didn’t respond, just stared first at Richards, then at the awards mounted on the wall behind him, my jaw clenching.

“You almost got several people killed.”

I rubbed my eyes, my face hot. My fingers came away wet with my tears. “I know,” I said.

“Your simulation was a travesty to our program, and frankly, I’m disappointed in you.”

I don’t know why that statement, amongst the rest, made me snap, but it did.

“Disappointed?” I asked looking up. “You’re the one who sent me uninformed and inexperienced into a simulation. How could that have possibly gone well?”

His face flushed, but his expression remained unchanged. “Your genetics were coded to handle high stress situations. Even inexperienced, you and Caden should’ve been able to successfully complete the simulation.”

“Okay, and that’s the other thing,” I said. “I thought these were simulations, not real missions.”

“Did you read the email sent out about the simulations?”

I hesitated. “Yes,” I finally said. I had read a paragraph of it.

“Then you should know that the simulations were heavily fortified missions. We had backup there to cover you and Caden, should anything go awry—which it did. You’re lucky they were there.

“You should’ve also received some information about the first simulation and what was expected of you,” he continued.

“You mean like hurting people?” I shot back at him.

He glanced down at a sheet of paper in front of him, his eyes moving across the page. “It says here you weren’t expected to—that’s why you weren’t equipped with a weapon—so no.”

He set the paper aside and leaned forward. “But don’t expect to keep that bleeding heart attitude of yours. This is what you’re being trained to do—protect national security no matter the cost. Sometimes that means resorting to violence. And no, you don’t get a choice—unless you’d like to risk thousands of American lives because you’re too squeamish to hurt one thug?”

I lifted my chin. “What if I just refuse to participate in any missions?”

Richards laid his hands flat on the desk and pushed himself out of his chair. He looked menacing. “You’re thinking of breaking your contract? Considering what you know about our government, how do you think that’s going to go?”

Not well. I swallowed and stayed silent. Damn him.

“That’s what I thought. The truth is that you’re no longer just a civilian. You’re being trained as an asset—a spy. Your knowledge of classified information makes you both valuable and dangerous. If you decided to not cooperate, the consequences would be grave.”

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

He’s taunting me. Silently he was daring me to cross the government. And he knew I wouldn’t. Why would I trade potential death during a mission for certain death or imprisonment if I challenged them?

I placed my hands in my lap where I could fist them without him seeing. “Understood,” I said, making sure that I kept my own expression neutral.

“Good.” He straightened up the papers in front of him. “You are to visit Debbie this week to be debriefed. I hope this doesn’t happen again. You are free to go.”

I stood to leave, but I had to ask him one last question. “Why are you sending any untrained teleporters on missions?”

The skin around his eyes tightened. He didn’t say it, but I could tell he didn’t like a young girl like me questioning his authority. “I already told you,” he said. “You are a weapon Ember. You were born to do this.”

I walked into my room, exhausted and ready to crash for the night.

Caden lounged in a chair next to my bed, looking way too comfortable and flipping through a romance novel my parents had packed in my suitcase.

“When did you get here?”

He held up my book, his thumb marking the page he was on, and ignored my question. “I still don’t understand why people go for these things.” He brought the novel back down to him. “I mean listen to this line: ‘He took me under the waterfall. His throbbing co—’”

I felt my cheeks flush. “Caden, what are you doing in my room?”

Before he could respond, he vanished, and the novel fell onto the now-empty seat.

Caden hadn’t walked over to my room. He’d teleported here. Which meant that, right at this moment, I could find him asleep on his bed.

I picked up the book and placed it on my nightstand, still embarrassed that he now knew some of the smut I read. I then changed into my pajamas, clicked off my light, and slid into bed.

As I waited for sleep, a grin began to spread along my face. Caden may have discovered my smutty reading material, but I’d also discovered something myself. Before Caden had fallen asleep, I knew the last thing he’d been thinking of.

Me.

I stretched my arms and looked around. I was back in the dusty office and back in the same Big Brother T-shirt. I checked my pockets and found another tiny flashlight and a note.

Same key. Second drawer from the top.

Had the government sent me to this office again? And if so, why would they want me to snoop around in here?

I rubbed my eyes with my thumb and index finger. All this espionage was getting to me. If I wanted to keep my sanity, I’d have to not question what was going on.

At my feet rested the tiny metal key. During my last visit I had vanished before I had time to reattach it to the bottom of the desk. The drawer I’d previously flipped through still hung open, its files gaping out. I slid it closed and picked up the key.

I inserted the key into the lock fixed on second drawer, turned it, and pulled the drawer out.

I clicked on the flashlight and shined it in. This drawer contained several files, but nowhere near as many as the one I’d looked through last time. I pulled out a manila folder with the name Claire Dunning written along the tab and flipped it open.

Name: Claire Dunning

Age: 18

Sex: Female

Status: Paired

Pair: Matthew Simmons

Next to these someone had paper-clipped a photo. A sweet, sun-kissed teenager smiled at the camera. But it wasn’t her happy expression that made me drop my flashlight. It was her rounded stomach.

Claire was pregnant.

Why had the facility filed information on a pregnant teleporter? Why did they care?

But I already knew the answer to those questions. If Claire was anything like me, scientists would likely be interested in how successfully she could reproduce. And how the child turned out. The thought disgusted me.

I flipped through the following pages and found out Claire’s pair was the child’s father. The file was last updated when Claire was thirty-five weeks pregnant. I did the math—that was roughly around eight months into the pregnancy.

The file said nothing about whether Claire or her baby had made it. The final entry was dated over a year ago.

I studied her photo again.

A morbid thought came to mind. I slid the file back in the drawer and moved down to the drawer filled with deceased teleporters.

My hand shook as I pulled out another file with the same name. Claire Dunning.

I now knew why they hadn’t updated Claire’s file. They hadn’t needed to. Both Claire and her child were dead.

I could taste bile at the back of my throat, but I willed myself not to vomit. According to the file, she hadn’t been on a mission, she’d just teleported into a dangerous situation and left injured.

I knew from personal experience that my injuries tended to stitch themselves back up after I teleported—the healing process sped up. But it seemed that the more extensive the injury, the harder it was for the body to appropriately piece itself back together.

I flipped through the folder, thankful at least that this one hadn’t included any gruesome images. I couldn’t have handled that. I closed the file and jammed it back in with the others.

Claire’s file had mentioned that she had a pair—Matthew Simmons. I scoured the folders in the third drawer to see whether he was still living or not. If he was, I might be able to ask him some questions about the project.

Unfortunately, I found his file. He’d died shortly after he turned nineteen, about three months ago. Again, splicing.

I only had minutes left before I’d be sent back, but I wanted to see a few more files in the second drawer. A grabbed another manila file and opened it without checking the name.

This time when I glanced at the paper-clipped image, I did a double take. A headshot of Desiree smiled up at me.

Name: Desiree Payne

Age: 16

Sex: Female

Status: Single

Pair: Charles Schwartz (deceased)

I skimmed over the rest of the notes on the first page until a word caught my eye. Pregnant. My eyebrows shot up.

Desiree had been pregnant?

I glanced at the other files in the second drawer. A series of female names decorated the tabs of each folder. As far as I could tell, no male teleporters had files in here. And I bet if I looked into each folder, I’d find the same word—pregnant. This drawer was dedicated to expectant teleporters.

I took a deep breath and flipped through the pages. The father of Desiree’s unborn child was unknown—either because she didn’t know or she wouldn’t say. But it wasn’t her pair; that I could tell. The entries ended at eight weeks into her pregnancy. I scanned the notes, and two sentences caught my eye.

Patient miscarried. Child’s genetics seem to be incompatible with mother’s ability to teleport.

Despite my dislike for her, my heart clenched. She was right to have a chip on her shoulder. She’d had to grow up too fast.

And then my skin felt clammy.

Could Caden be the father?

“Rise and shine, princess. Time to train.” I groaned and opened my eyes. Caden leaned over my bed, looking way too awake, as usual. Outside the sky was a deep purple, which meant it was some ungodly hour.

I rubbed my eyes and sat up, making sure my blanket covered my naked body. Not that it mattered at this point. “I thought we agreed that you wouldn’t keep barging into my room,” I said.

“And yet you keep forgetting to lock the door.”

“That’s not an excuse,” I mumbled. I gazed absentmindedly around the room. Then last night’s excursion rushed back to me.

I swiveled my head to face him, now hyper alert. “Did you get Desiree pregnant?” I asked, watching his expression.

Caden’s face lost all its humor; his expression hardened. “How do you know that information?”

“Oh God.” I looked away from him and scrubbed my face with a hand. “You were the father.”

“Whoa, backup,” he said, getting onto the bed. “I was definitely not the father. I’ve never been even slightly romantic with Desiree. She’s like a sister to me.”

My eyebrows shot up. “She makes it seem as though you two have some sort of history.”

Caden scooted himself next to me so that he could lean back against the headboard. I pulled my bed sheet closer to my naked skin. Not that there was anything there that he hadn’t already seen a few times over. “We’ve been friends for years—we were some of the youngest teleporters to arrive at the facility. Desiree, because her parents work here, and me because …” his expression darkened, “well, that’s a different story.”

The way he avoided his past made me suddenly want to know everything about it. But he clearly wasn’t ready to tell me, so I wouldn’t ask.

“We’ve had each other’s back for years,” Caden continued, “and when Desiree’s pair died about three years ago, she changed. She ran from her pain, usually into the arms of some good-for-nothing guy.”

Caden’s eyes got a faraway look to them. “She didn’t tell me she was pregnant until she lost the baby. At first I thought the miscarriage was a good thing—she was young and irresponsible after all. But the way she acted … it was like her pair had died all over again.

“That’s when I realized she wanted someone to love her unconditionally. The way her pair had before he died. I think she thought a baby would give her that.”

Caden shook his head. “Once I figured her out, I stepped it up as a friend. I was there for her like she needed someone to be. She might’ve wanted more than just friendship, but I never felt that way about her.”

Everything about the way Desiree acted began to make sense, and it was hard not to feel bad for her situation. She’d lost two people at such a young age. And now she went from having a close friend who she thought she might eventually date, to watching that same friend redirect his attention towards another girl—me. I’m sure the fact that Caden and I were a pair didn’t help.

At the thought of pairs, I remembered Claire from the file. Unlike Desiree, she hadn’t lost her baby. The baby had only died because Claire had.

Suddenly the taste of bile was back. I pushed the covers aside and ran for the bathroom.

“Ember?” he called after me.

I lifted the toilet seat and heaved.

I knew why Claire’s baby made it while Desiree’s didn’t. The father of Claire’s child was her pair. We’d been paired for breeding.

Chapter 18

A hand touched my back. “Ember, are you okay?”

Caden happened to be the last person I wanted next to me right now. After flushing the toilet, I pushed his hand away and instead reached for my bathrobe, which hung next to him, and put it on.

I moved over to my sink and opened a bottle of Listerine. Only once I’d rinsed my mouth out a few times did I decide to face him.

Caden leaned in the doorway of the bathroom, waiting for me to say something.

“Do you even like me?” I finally asked.

He crossed his arms and furrowed his brows. “What kind of question is that? Of course I like you.”

My eyes moved over his bulging arm muscles. “So you aren’t just interested because you’re supposed to be interested in me?”

“Ember, what are you talking about?”

“Us. Pairs.”

A line formed between his eyebrows. “What about it?”

I studied his features as I spoke. “Isn’t it curious that the government paired us in male-female groups—which happen to be genetically viable—and then encouraged us to get to know each other?”

The crease between his brows deepened. “So?”

“So, they’re setting us up to perpetuate our genetic mutations.” I paused to watch Caden’s expression change, but it didn’t. This wasn’t news to him. “Why spend money making more of us when more can be made for free?”

Caden’s face still hadn’t changed, and damn, my heart hurt because of it.

“You knew,” I said.

Caden must’ve seen some unpleasant expression flitter across my face because he grabbed my shoulders and gave me a gentle shake. “No. Ember. That’s not it at all. Just because I’ve known about the true purpose of pairs doesn’t mean that I’ve been forcing myself to like you. You don’t think that this disgusts me? It’s fucked up. I like you in spite of—not because of—our status as pairs.”

I shook my head, remembering the way he’d looked when we talked about my file last week—like I had mattered to him. He cared because pairs were genetically created together—they had to be.

“Please Caden,” I said. Regardless of his words now, I couldn’t shake the memory. “Just … I think you should leave. I need a little space.”

“We need to train,” he said, his voice all business.

“I’ll do it alone.”

He shook his head, his jaw working. “Fine.” He turned and walked out of the bathroom, and a few seconds later the door slammed.

I slouched against the wall. My life was a damn soap opera.

“So how did seeing the woman get shot in the club make you feel?” Debbie sat on the plush chair across from me, studying me intently. A notebook and pen rested on the arm of her chair.

I’d finally come in for my debriefing, and it was every bit as awful as I’d imagined it would be.

“Um, awful. Can I go now?” I asked from where I reclined. I was discussing my issues on a couch. I had no idea psychologists really did this—used couches to make their patients feel more at ease. It was physically comfortable, sure, but I wouldn’t say it made me feel any better.

Debbie folded her hands in her lap. “If you don’t talk this out with me now, you’ll have to come back again and again until I feel you’re mentally fit.”

A small sigh slipped out of me, and I fell back into the memory. “I felt awful, but I also felt guilty,” I said, seeing the events unfold all over again in my mind’s eye.

“Why is that?”

“Because I set off the chain of events that led to several people getting shot.”

“How do you think events would’ve played out if you hadn’t done what you did?”

I shrugged. And on and on it went. I discussed my feelings about the mission for almost forty-five minutes, and I begrudgingly had to admit, it helped. I didn’t hate myself so much for events that I largely couldn’t control. Talking about it made me realize that.

“Okay Ember,” Debbie said, “I’m going to shift topics slightly. How is your relationship with your pair?”

Just as I was starting to find the couch a truly comfortable and safe place to be, she had to ask about Caden. My body went rigid.

“Good.” My voice sounded strained.

Debbie raised an eyebrow. “Why is it good?”

“Because he helps me train and he looks out for me.”

Debbie smiled at my description of Caden, and I remembered back to when she introduced me to him. They must be close.

“Is that all?”

I’d rather get a tooth pulled without Novacane than elaborate, especially considering how Caden and I had parted yesterday. But I really didn’t want to do this again next week. At the back of my mind I realized that I hadn’t even thought of trying to escape for a couple days now, even with how screwed up my life was.

“No,” I said, defeated. “Caden’s really, really good to me. And I don’t feel as though I deserve it. I’m rude and selfish, and I don’t get along well with others. Yet despite all my attempts to push him away, he doesn’t give up on me. I don’t know what to do with that kind of loyalty.”

Debbie nodded. “That’s what being a pair means. He won’t give up on you.” It was the first time she’d offered her opinion—not as a suggestion, but as a statement. Her words didn’t make me feel better.

I hesitated before I spoke again. Giving up the kind of information I was about to, even to a counselor, made me feel vulnerable—if no one else knew how I felt, then they couldn’t use it against me.

“I like him,” I said softly. “So much. And I know he likes me, so this shouldn’t be a problem, but it is. Because he’s just like me—he can teleport. I’m scared that if I let myself fall for him, and then he dies, there will be nothing left of me.” I didn’t know the words were true until I spoke them.

“It sounds like you’ve thought this through many steps down the road.”

“Is that surprising?” I asked. “Wasn’t I created to think this way?”

Debbie didn’t say anything for a minute. Finally, she cleared her throat. “Don’t you think it’d be nice to let someone in? It sounds pretty lonely to be you.”

I frowned and blinked rapidly to diffuse the tears that wanted to come.

“Yeah … it’d be nice,” I admitted, “but I sort of pushed him away.”

“Well,” Debbie said, “just going off what you told me, it sounds like that hasn’t stopped him in the past.”

I laughed in spite of myself. So true.

“And,” she continued, “this isn’t advice, but in my own experience, an apology goes a really long way.”

An apology … I think I could do that.

As soon as I left Debbie’s office, I made a beeline for his room. He lived on an adjacent hallway to mine. I’d never been in it before, but I’d seen him come in and out of the room between classes.

I knocked on Caden’s door. Several seconds passed and no one answered. I tried the handle.

Unlocked. I was so going in.

I opened the door and slipped inside. Once the door clicked behind me, I looked around.

His walls were a collage of images. Some were photographs of nature, some were posters of albums and movies, and some were artwork. I don’t know what I’d expected from dangerous, cocky Caden, but it wasn’t this.

His queen size bed took up most of one wall, and across from it was his desk. Two large bookshelves rested against the far wall, filled with books.

I moseyed over to his book collection and flipped through it. Just about every genre was represented here, including romance. Hypocrite much?

I grabbed a bodice ripper, and made myself comfortable on his bed. I’d do a little light reading until Caden came back.

Forty minutes and three sex scenes later, the door opened, and a sweaty, shirtless Caden came into the room.

Whoa. I shifted uncomfortably as I took in his tanned skin and rippling muscles. It probably wasn’t the best idea to read a romance novel right before seeing him. Heat pooled low in my stomach.

As soon as he saw me, surprise registered on Caden’s face, followed by a slow, smoldering grin.

“You know,” I said conversationally, moving the romance novel away from my face, “I’ve never understood why people liked these things,” I said, throwing Caden’s earlier line back at him.

His dimples deepened, more delicious than ever. “Does the fact that you found that make me less manly?”

Laughter bubbled out of me, and my heart sped up. Screw the creepy scientists and their twisted plans for us. I liked Caden, and I was going to stop running from him.

“Not in the least.” I put the book down. “I owe you an apology.”

His face lost all traces of playfulness.

I started to get up from his bed, but he put his hand out. “Don’t get up. I kind of like the way you look there.”

Okay, definitely not helping my libido. “I’m sorry for pushing you away, Caden. I really like you, and your muscles are distracting …” I trailed off. Whoops. Not what I meant to say.

Caden raised his eyebrows and looked down at his naked torso before glancing back up at me with a lopsided grin.

I coughed. “Er … I meant to say that I was sorry that my disgust towards this program was misdirected at you.”

Caden came around the bed, and suddenly a very sweaty, muscular man wrapped me up in his arms. “Thank you,” he whispered into my ear.

“Welcome …” I hugged him back. Without really meaning to, I traced the slick muscles of his back, not caring that my clothes were now sweaty.

He pulled away. “I have to take a shower. Please don’t leave; I’ll be quick.” He turned and walked away, and my eyes ate up the way his back muscles rippled beneath his skin. At the base of his neck, black lines curled out, tracing their way along the surrounding muscles.

It chilled my blood, seeing those same lines I had on my shoulder blade.

Caden paused. “If you want, you can join me—now that you’re all sweaty too,” he said, his back to me.

“Join?” My eyes widened at his offer, and I forgot all about the inky markings.

“Yeah.” Now he turned to look at me. “Unless casual nudity makes you uneasy.” There was nothing casual about being naked around Caden.

Too many thoughts were rushing through my head. Was this a bad idea? Did I care? Would I regret this?

I stayed silent for too long.

Caden shrugged. “It’s a standing offer in case you change your mind.” He began walking again, pulling down his gym shorts on his way to the bathroom.

All that is holy, that man had an exquisite backside.

Slowly I got up from the bed, and with shaking hands I began to strip down. I crossed the room and opened the shower door.

Caden’s hair was slicked back, the water turning its normal golden hue into the color of wet sand. He drank me in as I stepped inside, and I felt that same nervous rush of excitement I had when I’d removed my clothing by the lake. This was much harder, though. Then I could act as though I hadn’t really wanted to be naked in front of him.

But now I did.

We stared at each other for a beat, and then Caden closed the distance between us and kissed me. I didn’t jump away when I felt the hard press of his body against mine. Instead I moved against him.

He groaned and pulled away. “Stop being such a temptress,” he said.

“Then stop being such a tease.” I slid past him, brushing against his slick body as I maneuvered my way under the shower’s spray.

He gave me a serious look. “There is nothing about this that’s funny.”

I leaned my head back and let the shower smooth back my hair. “I agree,” I said, closing my eyes as water dripped down my face.

A small sound came out of Caden’s mouth.

I opened my eyes slowly. His gaze was smoldering, and it devoured every inch of my body. The sight stirred something low in my stomach. I let my own eyes move over him, from his wide shoulders, to his rounded pecs, to his rippling abs. A deep V pointed to his arousal.

My breathing sped up. “Maybe this was a bad idea,” I said.

“I can control myself.”

I shook my head. “It’s not you I’m worried about.”

Caden’s eyebrows rose. “I’m just going to throw this out there, but I’m okay with being taken advantage of.” Even though his face was serious, his eyes twinkled.

I smiled at him and reached for his body wash, relieved on some level that Caden was okay going as far as I was. “Okay then, you’ve convinced me.”

“Good.”

Caden tugged the body wash out of my hand. “Mind if I wash you?” he asked.

My mouth went dry, and I cleared my throat. “Not at all.”

He poured some of the shower gel onto his hands. “Turn around,” he said.

I did as he asked, and a moment later I felt his calloused hands rubbing soap along my shoulders. I sucked in a breath. His touch raised the gooseflesh of my skin, each stroke sensual.

Gradually, his hands lowered. After he’d run them over the small of my back, he paused. I almost yelped when I felt Caden’s hands cup my butt.

“You have such a sweet ass,” he said, his voice low. My breath hitched at his words.

He cleared his throat. “You should probably turn around.”

I faced him, my heart hammering in my chest. He poured more body wash onto his hands and watched me as he placed his hands over my breasts.

My mouth parted and my eyes lowered at the feel of his hands gliding over the sensitive flesh. But as quickly as they passed over my breasts, they were gone. My belly tightened as they caressed the soft skin of my stomach.

Caden’s hands dipped lower and lower until …

I caught his hand just as it was about to dip past my pubic bone, my breathing heavy. “My turn.”

I squeezed out the body wash onto my palm and rubbed my hands together. I reached out and touched Caden’s slick chest. As soon as my sudsy fingers touched his skin, they seemed to have an agenda of their own. I glided them over his pecs and his large shoulder muscles, imagining what it would feel like to wrap the rest of my body around this skin.

I didn’t even bother pretending to wash him after that. While I still rubbed soap onto him, I was more interested in feeling every hard plane of his body. I turned him around with my hands, noticing his sly smile as I did so.

I ran my hand over the dips and rises of his back muscles, noticing the goose bumps that appeared under my fingers. Caden made a sound low in his throat. “Whatever it is you’re doing, it feels so damn good.”

I smiled and moved my hands to his back dimples. I swallowed when I glanced further down at his utterly perfect ass, before I finally got up the courage to run my hands over it.

As soon as I did so, I felt Caden’s body tense. “You’re killing me slowly,” he said, turning around to face me. He leaned in and kissed me, nipping my lower lip gently and running his tongue over it.

While I kissed him back, my fingers moved down Caden’s ribcage and danced along the deep V that cut into his torso. My pulse skipped along. He was put together perfectly.

Caden broke off the kiss, grabbed my hands in one of his, and reached around me with the other to turn off the facet. “Shower’s over,” he said, breathing heavily. The hand that held mine trembled slightly.

I nodded once, my breath also coming out in ragged bursts. I leaned my head against his chest and felt his arms wrap around me.

If he hadn’t stopped us, I wasn’t sure I would have been able to.

Chapter 19

I sat on the carpet in front of Caden’s bed, clad in an oversized shirt and sweats, and watched as Caden showed me the various parts of a gun and how to assemble them. Unlike me, the government seemed to trust him with actual weapons.

Everything about Caden was sexy. From his rich voice, to the way his forearms rippled as he assembled the weapon, to the way he looked at me. I’d noticed this all before, but after the shower, I noticed each feature with renewed appreciation.

“Ember, are you even paying attention?” Caden eyed me suspiciously.

“What—oh yeah.” It had been two hours since we jumped out of the shower, yet still I couldn’t stop visualizing him naked. I had thought this was a dude problem, but nope, right now it was a girl problem as well.

“Ember.”

“Huh?”

“Stop eyeing me like I’m going to be your next meal. It’s distracting.” Caden’s eyes dropped to my mouth.

“Sorry.” I couldn’t even come up with a witty response, that’s how distracted I was.

“It’s okay. Can you repeat back to me the first three steps of assembling an SSAK forty-seven using the terms I just went over?”

I diligently repeated the steps back to him when a knock on the door interrupted us.

“Come in!” Caden called.

Two men dressed in fatigues came into the room. “Are you ready for your mission?” one asked. But it wasn’t really a question.

I heard Caden curse under his breath. “Sorry, princess,” he said to me, “I forgot about this.” To the men he said, “Yeah, I’m ready.” He stood up.

Crap, I still hadn’t checked that sheet to find out when our second simulation would be. I glanced at Caden. “Is our second simulation today?”

“No, it’s tomorrow.” He wouldn’t look at me.

“Then where are you …” Mission. That’s what the man had said. That Caden was going on a mission.

“You can stay in my room for as long as you want,” Caden said. He leaned in and brushed my lips with his. Before I had a chance to kiss him back, he pulled away and followed the men out.

I touched my lips and watched the door click shut. Even though Caden had been sent to capture me two weeks ago, I had assumed that was a special occasion. My impression was that everyone in my classes was preparing to go on missions for the first time ever. It had never crossed my mind that some had already started doing them.

I left Caden’s room shortly after he did, intent on grabbing dinner. Now that he was no longer there, I had no reason to stay in it.

As I turned the corner to the dining hall, I heard shouts in the distance. Reflexively I moved towards the noise.

I shouldn’t have bothered; it was getting closer and closer to me. A stretcher rounded the corner and on it I saw something I’d only seen pictures of.

A teleporter drenched in blood lay on the stretcher, his naked body only covered where the medics had tried to temporarily staunch the blood loss. By the looks of it, the wound was too extensive for this to help much.

I backed up at the sight. Someone had been spliced.

Amongst all the blood, a tuft of short blonde hair had managed to stay dry. The sight chilled me.

Eric.

I didn’t know him well, but he was a good friend of Caden’s, and he had always been kind to me.

And he had a pair. I looked at the throng of people surrounding him, but Serena wasn’t amongst them. Of course she wouldn’t be; she’d been in the simulation with him.

My gut twisted. Before her ten minutes were up, had she seen Eric get injured? Had she worried this might happen? That she might never see him again? I didn’t envy her. Waking up and realizing your partner was dead, someone who you were friends with—maybe more than just friends—that just might be the worst feeling in the world.

Caden’s on a mission. The same thing could happen to him. My skin felt feverish, and the hallway much too claustrophobic.

Pull yourself together. He was good. I’d seen him in action.

The doors outside the front entrance banged closed. I’d been so lost in my thoughts that I’d only now noticed that Eric and the group of medics were already outside.

I followed, interested in the facility’s procedure when it came to splicing. Ahead of me a helicopter started up on a launch pad some distance away from the main building. The medics loaded Eric onto it, and then hopped in themselves. Once the engines were ready, the helicopter lifted up into the sky.

I watched until even the blinking lights of the chopper had disappeared over the hills. The whole thing took less than five minutes, but it still probably wasn’t fast enough to save Eric’s life.

And that was how we left the facility. In a body bag.

I looked around me. I stood in someone’s living room. Along the walls hung a series of images. The small room was starkly furnished and it smelled musty. I walked to a window and peered outside. This house appeared to be one of many nestled next to each other. Was I in Europe?

“Hi Ember,” the familiar voice spoke from behind me.

I turned. “Adrian.” I was thrilled he wasn’t trying to throw me out or argue with me. I guess he’d gotten used to my unexpected drop-ins. “Is this your house?” I asked, my eyes moving around the room.

He shook his head. “My father’s. Listen Ember,” he said as I took in the living room we stood in again, “I’ve been reading my father’s notes and doing some serious research on the project you’re a part of. The more I learn, the more sinister secrets I uncover.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” I said as I picked up a photo of a rather ugly looking man.

“Did you know that you are permanent property of the government?”

I put the photo back and glanced up at him. “What, exactly, does that mean?” I asked.

He took me in, his eyes sad. “Think of it as a new form of slavery. It means that the government can require you to work for them for years—they chose your destiny, not the other way around.”

They had told me two years. Two years and then I was out. But thinking over the extensive facility I lived in, Adrian had to be right. You didn’t pour in that kind of money just to let it all go after two years.

And considering that drawer of deceased teleporters, if what Adrian was saying were true, then … “It’s a death sentence.”

He exhaled. “Yes.”

The sound of my door opening and closing roused me from my dreams. A shadow moved through the darkness. I felt my mattress dip as the figure sat on the edge of my bed.

I could make out a bowed head and slumped shoulders. For a long time neither of us moved.

“Eric was hurt badly in his simulation,” Caden said. “They’re saying he might not make it.” His voice was emotionless. From what I’d seen of Eric, I couldn’t imagine how he would survive an injury that extensive.

Caden’s shoulders shook, and I was glad the lights were off. The sight of him losing it would have completely undone me.

Still, I slid out of the covers and came to where Caden sat. Using the tips of my fingers, I turned his head and kissed his lips, ignoring for his sake the wetness on his cheeks.

He swiveled his body, his lips parting as he leaned into me, all his attention focused on the sensation. My tongue caressed his, and two of his tears hit my cheeks.

I ran my hands up his arms. Tremors ran through Caden’s body, but neither of us acknowledged his anguish. Off in the distance I could hear someone wailing.

Serena.

I broke off the kiss. “You can stay here tonight, if you’d like. So you’re not alone.”

Caden cupped the side of my face, his thumb making circles over my cheek. I thought he was going to speak, but instead he gently laid me back on the bed. He molded his body to mine, wrapping an arm around my waist to hold us together.

“Thank you, princess,” he whispered.

In response, I took the hand on my waist, and kissed Caden’s callused knuckles before placing his hand back around me. His grip tightened, and I tried not to think about how perfectly we fit together.

I lay awake long after Caden’s breathing evened out, thinking about our lives. A tear of my own dripped down my face.

Eric’s fate was ours as well. It was only a matter of time.

The next morning when I woke up, Caden was already gone. I changed and grabbed breakfast, then read over the email concerning today’s simulation. After seeing Eric’s spliced body, I’d made sure to memorize everything about it.

I’d be distracting Isaac Stankovich, a sixty-three year old businessman. He was CEO of two separate companies that specialized in weapons manufacturing, and he was on the Board of Directors for half a dozen others. He also had ties to enemies of the state, and his recent activities suggested that he might be supplying them with military grade weapons—his phone, which Caden would steal while I distracted him, was how we’d find that out.

He also happened to have a fondness for attractive, young women. Lucky me.

After I’d memorized the mission, I spent the next few hours reading up on my etiquette and weaponry textbooks. These were two areas of study that I didn’t know much about, but I could learn fast.

Near lunchtime, I knew how a basic gun worked, common variations in its structure and function, and which models had a mean kickback. There was also an entire section that focused on how to properly hold and aim a gun.

For etiquette, I now knew that it was critical to study the names and backstory of the people I’d be targeting on missions. Really, this was a no-brainer, but I hadn’t thought about it. Many of these individuals were rich and powerful; they expected others to know about them. It also helped teleporters identify how to handle particular individuals on missions.

But the most important lesson from etiquette was another that I already knew: play up your role. I was a pretty, innocent-looking girl. Women trusted me, and men either protected or lusted after me. But everyone underestimated me.

Someone knocked on my door. I slid off my bed and opened the door. Two individuals dressed in fatigues stood on the other side, there to escort me to my second simulation.

“I’m ready,” I said, closing the door behind me.

I followed them down the same halls as I had the last time I did this. And just like last time, I entered a stark room and lay down on a hospital bed. The only thing different was the doctor.

The male doctor flipped through my file, just as the last doctor had. He looked over his glasses at me. “Ready?”

“No.”

He chuckled at my response but still measured out the sedative. A moment later he took my wrist and swabbed the crook of my arm. Picking up the now full syringe, he slid the needle into my flesh. I winced as the fluid emptied into my veins.

And just like last time, I felt a burst of fear as my eyes began to droop and my vision blurred.

Here we go again.

Chapter 20

When I materialized, Caden stood in front of me, wearing glasses and a suit. He looked like a model pretending to be a young financial analyst—that’s not to say his disguise was unbelievable. He just couldn’t hide his chiseled features and built form behind glasses and a business suit. All traces of last night’s sadness had vanished.

“Well, doesn’t someone look intellectual,” I said, ignoring the way my heart pounded at the sight of him.

“Take a look at yourself.”

I glanced down at my fitted slacks, white blouse, and snug blazer. In my hand I held a nondescript black briefcase, and around my wrist was a delicate silver watch that counted down our time.

When I looked up I noticed our surroundings. Skyscrapers towered around us from where we stood on the sidewalk, and the streets teemed with cars and people. We were in the financial district of some large city.

My gaze moved to Caden’s face. A purple and yellow bruise discolored the skin around his left eye. I hadn’t noticed it before; he must’ve received it on his mission yesterday.

Caden’s tilted his head towards the glass doors. Frosted glass listed the same address I’d read over in my email. This was Stankovich’s office building. “Let’s get going. We need to secure Isaac Stankovich’s cell phone.”

I nodded and followed Caden inside. Once the doors closed behind us, I slipped my hands inside my pockets and pulled out a note.

Confiscate Isaac Stankovich’s phone. Use the name Patricia Lennon. Pick up on floor 15.

I shoved the piece of paper into my pocket and glanced at a large clock that hung on one of the walls. Patricia Lennon was Stankovich’s mistress, and from the email I read over this morning, she was supposed to meet Stankovich for lunch in twenty minutes.

I glanced at Caden. “I’ll be back in a sec.”

He nodded and I left his side. I crossed the large lobby area and approached the main desk where a pretty blonde woman sat. “How may I help you?” she asked.

“I’m here to see Isaac Stankovich for lunch.”

“Name?” she asked.

“Patricia Lennon.”

She dialed the number for what I’d assume was Stankovich’s office. “A Patricia Lennon is here.” She paused. “Great. Thanks—bye.”

The blonde woman hung up and smiled at me. “He’s on his way.”

“Thanks,” I said.

Once I got back to where Caden waited on the other side of the lobby, I updated him. “He should be down here in a few minutes.”

“Great. Now we wait.”

We had a perfect view of the row of elevators, and when the middle one opened and a stern, dark-haired man exited it, Caden nudged me.

So this was Stankovich.

“We’re going to walk past him, and you’re going to run into him,” Caden said.

“Oh that’s super original.”

“Got a better idea, princess?”

I huffed and began walking, keeping an eye on Stankovich from the corner of my eye. Behind me I heard Caden shuffle to catch up.

“So, do you have the report?” Caden asked.

I turned to him, confused, when I noticed his meaningful look.

Act the part.

I cleared my throat. “I do,” I said, watching our target from the corner of my eye. “My analysis on the product … analytics indicates that there’s a steep rise in … affordability.”

The distance between Isaac Stankovich and us closed quickly, which was a good thing since I had no idea what the hell I was talking about.

Okay, just bump him Ember. Easy.

“I think the market will show that—” My shoulder plowed into Stankovich, knocking him off his feet. His briefcase flew into the air as he used his hands to catch himself.

Oops—a little too much force. Again.

“What the fuck!” he yelled.

Next to me I heard Caden sigh.

I swore under my breath and dropped to my knees. “I am so sorry,” I said, leaning over him and giving Stankovich my best doe eyes. Caden had disappeared from my line of sight, which I took to be a good thing.

Stankovich’s eyes dropped to my cleavage. I didn’t have much there, but apparently there was enough to distract this guy.

“It’s okay,” he said gruffly, now that he realized the linebacker that took him out was me and not some hairy dude. “Just—watch where you’re going.” He got to his feet.

I stood up as well, trying to look useless. “Seriously, I can be so oblivious. Can I make it up to you sometime?” I asked, lightly placing my hand on his upper arm.

He eyed the hand that touched him, his gaze trailing up my arm to my face. His eyes broke away from me long enough to search the room, and when he didn’t see Patricia Lennon, he turned back to me. “How about lunch next week?”

I felt a tap on my shoulder, Caden’s way of letting me know that we needed to get going. Stankovich’s eyes drifted over to Caden. They only lingered briefly, but his smile slipped. Caden had that effect on men.

“Perfect,” I said, running my hand down Stankovich’s arm to recapture his attention. “Look me up when you want to cash in that lunch date. My name is Ashley O’Connor, and I work on floor fifteen.” The lie slipped easily from me. This was what I was good at—pretending to be someone else.

When the elevator doors closed, Caden let out a breath. “Jesus Ember, you plan on becoming BFFs with our target?” he asked. He looked annoyed—more annoyed than he should. I think someone didn’t like watching me flirt.

“It worked, didn’t it?”

“Yeah, except you happened to mention floor fifteen, the floor we’re going to.”

Ah. No wonder the floor number rolled off my tongue so easily. It was the floor mentioned in the note I teleported with—the floor where the drop off was to occur. The floor we were heading to right now.

“It’s not like he’s going to follow us,” I said, shrugging it off.

“Well, we probably won’t have to worry about it since, with all that chatting, we only have a minute or so to deliver the phone.”

Caden really wasn’t taking my performance well. “Did you at least get the phone?” I asked.

“Yeah.” Caden pulled it out to show me.

As soon as we both saw the phone, we paused for a beat.

“Well crap,” I said. A spider web of lines covered the surface of the screen.

Caden cursed under his breath. “He must’ve fallen on it when you tackled him.”

“I didn’t tackle him.” But Caden was right. The fall must have crushed his phone.

A broken phone meant only one thing: we’d failed the simulation.

“It’s going to be fine. I bet it’s just the screen,” Caden reassured me as the elevator slowed to a stop.

I nodded. “You’re probably right.” The truth was, I really didn’t care.

The elevator doors opened, and we stepped out into a small waiting area furnished with a few chairs and a side table. A nondescript man sat in one of the chairs and flipped through a magazine.

“Do you know where Jerry’s Coffee is?” Caden asked the man. The man nodded, and Caden slipped the phone into his open briefcase.

I felt my eyes widen. It really was just like the movies. Also, I really needed to read my emails more if I wanted to be in the know.

We turned to walk out of the waiting area when the elevators dinged open behind us.

“Ashley!” Stankovich said from behind me.

No. Please tell me this wasn’t happening.

As I began to twist my body to face Stankovich, Caden took my hand and pulled me forward briskly. We rounded the corner and entered the hallway.

“Ashley!” Stankovich repeated, following us.

I turned and glanced at Caden. As I met his hazel eyes, his watch beeped twice and he disappeared.

“Holy shit! What the hell?” Stankovich said from behind me.

I faced him, and took in his wide eyes. “That guy,” he said, “he just—”

I heard my watch beep, and his words cut off as I disappeared too.

We failed both missions. I just knew it.

I sat next to Caden, fidgeting in my seat. Across from us Dane Richards, who was back in town, and a panel of my instructors reviewed our simulations, beginning with the footage of our simulations. How they managed to record us was beyond me.

It had been two days since our last simulation and one day since the simulations for the facility ended.

The instructors’ faces were stoic as they watched me set off Caden’s gun in the club, and again when they saw me knock over Isaac Stankovich.

Not everything was caught on tape, so thankfully I didn’t have to watch the girl get shot all over again. Nor did they see Caden and me disappear in front of Stankovich. But they knew about it from our debriefing with Debbie yesterday.

Once the footage ended, the room was quiet for a few moments. Our instructors paged through our files and began jotting notes down.

After five minutes had ticked by, Dane Richards collected their notes from them. He sat down and flipped through them, before jotting down some notes himself.

He placed his pen on top of the stack of papers and looked up at us.

“These,” he said, tapping the paper with the tips of his fingers, “are your simulation results. Your instructors have scored you from zero to a hundred based on your performance in these two simulations. Fifty is neutral. Anything above fifty means you’re abilities helped the simulation. Anything below fifty indicates that your actions were harmful. These results will determine your placement on future missions. While it’s important that each of you become well rounded in all areas, you’ll be required to hone certain talents you have a knack for.”

He moved his pen and picked up the papers. “Okay, Caden, why don’t we discuss your results first?”

I glanced over at Caden in time to see him give a slight nod.

“Close Combat and Physical Fitness—ninety-three. Etiquette—sixty-eight. Weaponry—eighty-six. Technology—fifty-two. Profiling—eight-nine. Teamwork—ninety-four.”

Once Richards stopped reading off the scores, I looked to Caden again. A small smile played along his face.

“Caden, I must congratulate you; these are exceptional scores.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“You’ve already passed this once before as a single, but working in pairs requires different strategies—ones you’ve quickly acquired. From what I’ve seen and what your instructors have written, you are an expert on reading your targets and the situations you find yourself in.

“Your actions in both simulations suggest that you are quick to develop plans and contingency plans. This is an essential skill on these missions. You’re a team player and you are excellent at covering your partner and keeping her safety in mind.

“Overall your actions show focus, exemplary physical and emotional control, and that you are results-oriented. Great job.”

I studied Caden’s face as he received the news. I could tell he had tried hard to contain his emotions, but by the end of Dane’s little speech, Caden’s dimples were out and his eyes crinkled happily.

“Good job,” I whispered to him. The words left a bad taste in my mouth.

“Thanks,” he whispered back.

Dane Richards set down Caden’s results and picked up mine. As soon as he looked up at me, his face lost its approval.

Oh goody.

“Ember Pierce, here are your results: Close Combat and Physical Fitness—seventy-one. Etiquette—sixty-eight. Weaponry—thirteen.”

Thirteen?

Dane Richards glanced up. “Caden, as an aside, I want you to start taking Ember to the shooting range. She’s going to need all the practice she can get.”

Next to me Caden looked like he bit into something sour but nodded. I couldn’t tell if that was because he was remembering our first simulation together or if the thought of training me now in Close Combat and Weaponry was just that unpleasant a task.

“Technology—forty-six.” Dane Richards paused, his usual frown deepening. He glanced up at Debbie, my profiling instructor, who nodded at him. “Profiling—ninety-seven,” I heard Caden suck in a breath, “and Teamwork—forty-three.”

Richards set the paper down. “According to the notes, you’ve demonstrated an unusually good ability at profiling and distracting your targets. While your ability to handle potentially violent situations is atrocious, you appear to excel at nonviolent manipulation.

“You have an impressive set of survival skills, but that can be lethal when it comes to working with others—as your teamwork score indicates. Focus on learning how to handle and use weapons as well as how to be an asset rather than a liability to your partner.”

I nodded. I had no affiliation to the government, but I did to Caden. He was the one person who’d continuously been there for me since I’d arrived. I’d work on those skills I needed help with for his sake only.

He gathered the paper together. “Combined, you two have the potential to be one of the strongest pairs. Ember, your focus will be on distraction. Caden, your focus will be on violent and nonviolent extraction. Your first mission will be assigned to you this coming week. Other than that, you’ll be attending classes as usual.”

Dane Richards looked between the two of us, a shadow of a smile on his face. I didn’t trust him, not for a minute.

“Congratulations you two. You have been placed.”

Chapter 21

After we left the room, Caden fell quiet. I glanced down at his hands and watched as he clenched and unclenched them.

“What’s up with you?” I asked.

He wouldn’t look at me. “Nothing.”

I grabbed his arm and pulled him to a stop. His strange behavior was putting me on edge. “Save the lies for someone who can’t read you. What is it?”

Slowly he raised his gaze. When it finally met mine, I could see his vulnerability laid bare in them. “We both already knew you’d get classified as a distractor.”

I remembered Debbie mentioning that during my first week here. “What about it?”

“I just … I didn’t realize how much it would bother me—you officially becoming one.”

I raised my eyebrows but said nothing.

Caden glanced away. “The directors and instructors would like you to believe being a distractor is innocent—it’s not. You haven’t been here long enough to learn otherwise. But I have.”

At his words, a sense of unease slowly crept in.

“Why didn’t you say anything earlier, when Debbie first mentioned it?”

His jaw worked. “It seemed so implausible at the time. You’d just arrived and had no formal training. I assumed that if it came to the simulations, the directors would quickly see that you weren’t ready. But after that last simulation …” Caden shook his head. “They noticed that you distracted a target enough for him to actually follow you. You impressed them.”

He looked back at me, and my eyes darted between his. I’d shown too much. I’d broken the first rule I’d taught myself after my ability manifested—never let others see more than they need to.

“What will they ask me to do?” I was almost afraid to voice the question, but I had to know.

He moved closer to me, so that we were less than a foot apart. “At first I’m sure it will be easy—just a little flirting, like earlier today. And then they’ll want you to actually do something—maybe just kiss your target—and you’re not going to be okay with it. But you’ll do it for the sake of your teammates and for the sake of national security. And it will kill a little part of you inside. And I’ll have to stand by and pretend it doesn’t matter. But it does, it will. And I’m not okay with it.”

A chill had made its way underneath my skin. For all the horror I’d discovered about the Prometheus Project, I hadn’t really thought through this aspect of the program. Of course distracting targets could mean more than just flirting with them. Why had I foolishly bought Debbie’s lie when she’d downplayed the role? I knew better.

But did it even matter? The government owned me. So long as I lived under their roof, I’d have to do what they asked of me.

I shook my head and closed my eyes.

I felt Caden take my hand and squeeze it. “I won’t let that happen to you.”

I opened my eyes. “I don’t think either of us has the power to stop it.”

That evening, I hopped onto the Internet to check my emails. My parents and Ava still hadn’t responded.

I pushed away from my desk, grabbed my phone, and stared at it. I’d received no calls and no texts since I’d arrived here. That hadn’t really surprised me, considering that my phone didn’t get reception.

But the emails? I should’ve received one from both Ava and my parents by now.

Could someone be screening my messages? The thought filled me with dread.

A couple years ago I’d become briefly fascinated with cults; I read anything and everything I could get my hands on concerning them. One of the main things I remembered was how they indoctrinated and retained new members. Isolation. Severing communication from the rest of the world. That was exactly what the project seemed to be doing.

With that thought in mind, I opened my social media sites for the first time since I arrived. When each of the sites loaded, the same message appeared.

We’re sorry, but the page you wish to visit has been blocked. For more information, click here.

I cursed. They’d blocked me.

And now that I actually thought about it, I hadn’t teleported to my parents or Ava’s house since I arrived. Usually when I was homesick, I visited those places and people I longed to see. I could remember at least one night last week where I fell asleep thinking of my family. They’d been controlling my nightly visits.

Whatever long-term plans the project had in mind, they didn’t include our families.

I sat at my computer for a long time, trying to figure out what to do with this information. I could just sit back and do nothing, like I had been, but this latest knowledge was the straw that broke the camel’s back. The project would work me until I was all used up—until I gave them every last drop of my blood—and only then would I be freed from this place. And would anyone miss me? Did anyone even remember the teleporters who had died before me?

It was all a great waste. If I was doomed to die, then I might as well use my time productively.

A slow smile crept across my face, though there was nothing happy about my thoughts. I had to take some sort of action, and I only knew of one person who might be able to help—Adrian.

Now that it was obvious the project controlled where I teleported to, I wasn’t sure I could trust him. But he was my only option. If I could get him to contact my parents, then they could work on my situation from the outside.

It might also put their lives in danger.

I scrubbed my face with my hands. Okay, I couldn’t involve my parents, not if that meant risking their lives. But Adrian was already on the run from the government. His situation couldn’t really get much worse, and he knew things about me and about the project that might be important … that might be worth knowing.

But what I was thinking of was more than just learning the project’s secrets. I wanted to expose those secrets and take the project apart piece by piece. This was no longer just about escape. More lives than mine needed to be saved. I just hoped Adrian felt he had as little to lose as I did. That was the only way he’d agree to this.

A short while later someone knocked on my door.

“Come in!” I called.

Caden sauntered in, wearing a fitted button down and jeans. He looked like he’d just walked off an Abercrombie ad.

He eyed my yoga pants and baggy shirt and sighed. “You haven’t checked your email, have you?”

The irony was that I had; I just happened to get distracted before I could read all of the messages.

“What’s going on?”

“The students are hosting a party in the gym to commemorate the end of simulations and the beginning of missions.”

“Sounds fun.” In truth, I didn’t feel in the mood to commemorate anything. People had been hurt because of me, Eric had gotten spliced, and now I knew that the project got away with all this bloodshed by keeping teleporters isolated from their former lives.

Caden leaned against the wall next to me. “Will you be my date tonight for the party?”

I blinked a couple of times. “Will there be dancing?”

He folded his arms. “It’s a party, what do you think?”

Geez, testy. “Will I be required to dance?”

Caden raised an eyebrow, a smile curling his lips up. “Hell yeah, if you’re my date.”

I cringed and his dimples deepened. “I could’ve sworn the last time we danced together you were enjoying yourself,” he said.

“Our lives were in danger,” I said. “You were a nice distraction, but I wasn’t exactly enjoying myself in the simulation.”

“Then let me make sure you enjoy yourself tonight.”

How could I say no to that?

Reading my expression, Caden opened my door. “I’ll be back in ten minutes to pick you up—and I’m holding you to that dance, princess.”

Sweaty bodies brushed up against me as I swayed on the dance floor in one of the few clubby dresses I owned.

I was more than just a little drunk.

For the last thirty minutes I’d stood on the sidelines, downing obviously spiked energy drinks—apparently that was the closest thing to punch the facility had—while Caden and I chatted with friends. He’d been patiently waiting for me to dance with him, but I hadn’t wanted to go until the crowd had thickened a bit more and I’d loosened up.

At the time all I wanted was a little something to take the edge off. Only now it was clear that I’d had much more to drink than I thought.

And of course the moment I’d finally gotten the urge to dance, Caden had wandered off.

So here I was, drunkenly dancing by myself under the dim lights of the gym. I let myself go, living in each pulse of music. The alcohol gave me sweet relief from my troubles, and for the first time in a long time, there was nothing I was worried about.

A pair of hands snaked around my waist. I turned and faced a dark-haired teleporter. His hooded eyes and easy smile let me know that one, he was drunk, and two, he found me sexy.

Why not enjoy myself a little? It had been ages since I’d lost control, and I wanted to be the normal type of reckless right now.

I followed the sway of the teleporter’s body, and we began to dance together in time with the song. His hands glided over my torso, feeling my taut stomach then moving up. But before he had a chance to reach my breasts, he was jostled out of my grasp. In his place stood Caden.

“Did you shove him?” I asked, referring to my previous dance partner who now watched us from a few feet away, confused about what had happened and how to handle the situation.

He gave my previous partner a dark look before turning back to me. “He needed a little persuading.”

I wrapped my arms around Caden’s neck and pulled myself in really close. “I’m glad you did. He wasn’t really a gentleman.”

Caden’s hands ran over my waist before wrapping around me, pulling me in close. “And what makes you think I am?” he whispered in my ear.

I pulled my head away to get a good look at him. His expression was serious. That’s when I noticed it. His eyes—they were hooded, just like the guy I had been dancing with. And his pupils were dilated. This expression was the same one I’d studied in Debbie’s class—unfulfilled desire.

My heart pounded in my chest. Whatever was going on between us, it was the real thing. Maybe tonight we’d …

“Shit.” I began to turn away. I didn’t want to do anything intoxicated. Not with Caden.

“Oh no you don’t.” Caden held onto my arms. “I finally got you out here. I’m not going to let you escape that quickly.”

I rolled my head back and looked at the lights above us. That sounded like one giant metaphor for our situation.

“Look at me. Please.” It was the “please” that did me in.

I slowly tilted my head back down and met his heated gaze. My body reacted to the look in his eyes—my stomach felt pleasantly woozy. In fact, I felt euphoric.

“Ember, I more than just like you,” his gaze was so intense that goose bumps broke out along my skin, “and there’s something I’ve been meaning to officially ask you.”

My eyes moved down to his lips. Those sensual lips were forming words I wanted to hear, but somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew this was bad. Falling for him was bad.

Caden took my hands. “Will you—?”

Repercussions be damned. “Yes,” I breathed, cutting him off. I leaned in and kissed him. He stopped talking and kissed me back, holding me like he might never let go.

We were so screwed.

Chapter 22

The kiss quickly escalated into a full on make out session. Classy, I know. I try.

“Can we get out of here?” My voice sounded breathless. I hadn’t come up for air in a while.

“No problem.” Caden took my hand and weaved us through the crowded gym. I didn’t bother focusing on where we were going, but Caden looked damn fine leading us there.

Five minutes later—or at least what felt like five minutes later—we staggered down the hall that connected the gym to the dormitory.

I wrapped an arm around his waist as we passed a staff member walking down the corridor.

The guy gave us a once-over and shook his head, looking repulsed.

“Did you see that?” I unintentionally stage whispered to Caden as the staff member’s footfalls grew quieter and quieter.

“Yeah I saw,” he said, nuzzling my neck.

“How rude.”

“Do you want me to stop?” Caden asked.

“Oh—no, I meant the guy, not you.” Now all of my not-so-sharp focus honed in on the light kisses Caden planted from my collarbone to my neck. The skin was sensitive, and I shivered.

“Back in the gym—you were asking me to be your girlfriend and not your wife, right?” I asked. “’Cause I like you and all, but I’m not ready to put a ring on this finger,” I said, holding up my left hand and wiggling the finger next to my pinkie.

His husky laugh ticked the sensitive skin of my neck. “One step at a time, princess. I’m not ready to make you my queen yet either.”

He resumed placing light kisses along my neck. I wrapped an arm behind his head, and I leaned in, taking his attention away from my neck and shoulder long enough to get a sensual kiss. His lips were hot on mine, and I parted them with my own to deepen the kiss.

Caden pulled away, his dimples came out, and he gave me a blinding smile.

I stumbled under the full force of it. It temporarily sobered me up enough to realize that I wasn’t coherent enough to be toying with emotions.

His smile vanished, replaced with concern. “Ember, are you feeling okay?”

Now that he mentioned it, I wasn’t feeling too good. Actually, I was feeling pretty effing awful.

Oh God. I glanced around until I saw a green exit sign. I stumbled over to it and pushed through the doors, the crisp night air cold against my skin. Once outside I turned to some nearby bushes and re-experienced my spiked energy drinks. The alcohol had turned on me!

As I straightened back up, I realized Caden was holding my hair. Ew, how much of that had he witnessed?

“C’mon, let’s get you inside,” he said, rubbing my back.

“Can I get a piggyback ride?” I asked pathetically.

“Sure.”

And he said he wasn’t a gentleman.

Caden carried me all the way to my room, only briefly disappearing while I brushed my teeth repeatedly. I wasn’t necessarily being a germaphobe—I think I nodded off a few times.

I changed into my pajamas and left the bathroom just as Caden walked through the door, holding bottled water, aspirin, and a banana. I crawled into bed, already beginning to hurt.

Caden set his items on my side table. “Tomorrow this will be more than worth its weight in gold.” He smiled gently and tucked me in. The gesture was so touching and so alien coming from Caden that I caught his hand as he turned to go.

“Stay with me.”

“What?” He raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Please.”

I would like to say that it was the “please” that also did him in, but let’s be real, Caden was an opportunist through and through.

His warm body spooned against mine, and I nestled in. With Caden holding me, my problems were distant and insignificants things.

I fell asleep, and for the next ten minutes Caden and I didn’t need to teleport. We were exactly where we wanted to be.

A blazing sun woke me. I peeled my eyes open slowly. They felt glued together. A split second later my head began pounding.

“Ugh,” I moaned.

I felt like road kill, only I had the joy of being alive. I wasn’t really appreciating that fact at the moment. My mouth was dry, and my stomach churned. I shifted myself in bed, trying to get comfortable to pretend the pain away, when I brushed skin.

“Mmmm.”

I froze.

The arm thrown possessively around my midriff tightened, pulling me in close and causing the churning in my stomach to increase.

Caden.

What had happened? I rubbed my temples. Memories came back in short clips. The dance. Caden and me kissing and coming back here and falling asleep together. He had asked me to be his girlfriend, and I’d said yes.

I rubbed my forehead. Just as he had told me last night, I more than liked him, and that was problematic. Between the deadly missions we went on and my own recent plans to gather information on the Prometheus Project, I was closer to death than I’d ever been before. Having a boyfriend under those conditions would seriously complicate things.

I remembered the girl I was last night. A girl without worries. Perhaps I could find a nice middle ground between her and myself. Maybe now more than ever I should indulge my feelings. I might not have much longer to do so.

I snatched the goodies Caden had left me, along with a pair of clothes, and made a beeline for my bathroom.

My legs felt shaky and my mouth held the stale taste of alcohol as I stood under the spray of water. I leaned against the shower wall and repeatedly gurgled water. When that didn’t remove the nauseating aftertaste of cheap vodka, I grabbed my banana and ate it in the shower. Maybe this would give my stomach and gag reflex some temporary relief.

The whole ordeal felt like a balancing act. Eat some banana to help counter my pulverized stomach—don’t eat too much banana, or else the nausea will rise. Stand—but if you feel sick, sit down.

Eventually, I stopped getting back up. I leaned against the shower wall, my forearms resting on my knees. I closed my eyes and hummed my mother’s lullaby. The song calmed me, but my heart constricted at the thought of her and my father.

Were they worried about me? What was the government telling them? Would I ever see them again?

I’m not sure how long I sat there, but at some point I pulled myself together. Vowing to never again drink alcohol, I stood up and turned off the facet. I toweled off and changed.

When I opened the door, Caden sat on the edge of the bed in fresh clothes, his face serious. I thought that maybe he’d regretted what he said last night, or perhaps the fact that we slept together—even though, strictly speaking, that was all we did.

“Ember,” he said, “I just finished checking my email. We’ve already received our first mission. It’s today. In five hours.”

After Caden left, I opened my email and clicked on the message marked “Tonight’s Mission.” It detailed where I’d be going, who’d be there, and what I’d be doing.

Tonight’s location: Palacio de Bellas Artes

About: One of the most important cultural centers in Mexico, the Palacio de Bellas Artes houses a historic theater and a series of murals created by some of the most prominent Mexican painters in history. Make sure to spend the day reading up on the Palacio de Bellas Artes, Mexican history, and famous Mexican painters, as conversations will revolve around this subject. Because this is an international gathering, English and Spanish will be the primary languages spoken. Be conscientious of language barriers and cultural differences. Please refer to your etiquette textbook for additional information on how to appropriately conduct yourself.

Goal: Meet Emilio Santoro, develop rapport, and keep his attention while the other teleporters extract information.

Name: Emilio Santoro

Age: 29

Sex: Male

Height: 5’ 11”

Weight: 185 lbs

Notes: Emilio Santoro is the head of a Colombian cartel. He’s committed several international crimes, including sex trafficking, drug trafficking, kidnap, murder, and torture. He’s wanted in several countries, but he’s managed to elude capture. He’s known for his ever-fluctuating personality. Use extreme caution when interacting with him.

An image had been attached to the email. I opened it up, and Emilio Santoro took up my computer screen.

The man who smiled for the camera didn’t appear dangerous whatsoever. He was also fairly attractive. Maybe this distraction thing wouldn’t be so bad after all. Or maybe, just like Emilio, looks were deceiving.

Five hours later, and about half as hung over, I was escorted into a lab where Dane Richards waited.

Dread pooled in my stomach. What was he still doing here?

Unlike the room where the simulations took place, this room held several beds, all but one of which were filled with other teleporters.

Caden was already seated and getting his wrist swabbed. This was the first I had seen him since we parted that morning. The expression he gave me now was unreadable.

Occupying some of the other beds were a few other students from my classes. My eyes landed on Desiree. She gave me a mean smile. I hadn’t seen her in a while, and from what Caden had told me about her life, she’d actually kind of grown on me. I’d almost forgotten that things hadn’t changed between us.

I sat down on the last remaining bed. A technician came over and discretely swabbed my arm.

“Everyone,” Dane said, “tonight it is extremely important that plans unfold exactly as we discussed. Jeff, Lydia, and Bryce,” he said, looking at the individuals to my left. “You’re going in first. You three will be setting up the cameras.”

He turned his attention to the other side of the room. “Candice and Martin,” he said, pointing to some of my other classmates, “your job is to locate the briefcases containing the money and the classified documents, and bug them if possible. Desiree, your job is to distract Sasha Zhirov, the man who is moving the documents.

“Ember,” he said, meeting my gaze, “your job is to distract Emilio Santoro, the man receiving the documents. And Caden, your job is to bug these men and to watch their movements.

Richards rested a hand on one of the occupied beds. “Do you all understand your roles?” He glanced at the room and we nodded. “Any questions?” When no one spoke he said, “Good. We’ll be meeting tomorrow morning at ten a.m. to debrief. And now let’s get this evening started.”

Three individuals in white coats moved in and administered a sedative to Jeff, Lydia, and Bryce. They fell asleep within minutes, and I watched, transfixed, as each winked out and their vacated clothes drifted down to the empty beds.

All was quiet in the lab for five minutes. Then out of the many screens that were mounted on the wall, one flickered and footage appeared. Jeff smiled and waved to the camera. Once he moved away, I caught my first glimpse of our destination, the Palacio de Bellas Artes.

I bit my lip as I took in the marble floors, the glittering chandeliers, and the regal attire of men and women. Large canvases lined the walls of this place, and guests clustered in front of each, casually sipping from flutes of champagne and talking with one another.

Another screen flickered, showing a grassy lawn and the manicured gardens beyond it. More screens flickered, each shot capturing a different angle of the dinner party.

Then, in the order that they winked out, Jeff, Lydia, and Bryce returned. All three were completely nude and deep asleep. You’d never know that just seconds before they were completely awake. One of the doctors shook out a folded blanket and covered them one by one. A few minutes later they were wheeled out.

And just like that, their role in the mission was over.

For a long time the rest of us watched the guests on the monitors, nothing much happening. Then, on one of the screens, a car pulled up to the front and a scary looking man stepped out.

“There’s Zhirov,” Richards said.

Two bodyguards stepped out with him, one carrying a briefcase. “And there’s the briefcase.”

“What’s in it?” I asked.

“Documents,” Dane replied, not taking his eyes off the screen.

“What kind of documents?”

Dane’s gaze broke away from the screen so that he could scowl at me. “That’s classified information.”

“If we’re putting our lives on the line, shouldn’t we know what we’re risking our lives for?” I persisted.

I glanced over at Caden, who shook his head.

Dane Richards came over to where I lay. He leaned in close. “What part of ‘classified’ is unclear to you? You’re not here to know the secrets of the world; you’re here to protect our national security.” He straightened and walked away.

Richards turned to the doctor. “Send the rest of the team in now.”

Chapter 23

Wine. It was the color of my long dress. I had to give props to whoever was in charge of costume design. The dress was gorgeous. I’d also arrived with a matching clutch. I opened the clutch and pulled out a ticket and a sheet of paper with instructions I already knew. Thankfully, nothing else rested in the bag.

“You look … amazing.” I looked up to see Caden staring at me, his eyes wider than usual.

I smiled and gave him a once-over. “You clean up pretty well yourself.” That was an understatement. He looked like sex in a suit. But I wasn’t about to inflate his ego any more than it already was. After all, I had to deal with him all of tomorrow and every day after that.

I checked out our surroundings. We had strategically arrived behind some shrubbery in the back courtyard of the new museum, hidden from view but visible enough for us to assess the guests.

“We should go,” he said.

I nodded and we casually walked out from behind the shrubs. If anyone noticed our strange entrance, they didn’t let on.

After we handed our tickets to the teller, we passed through the entrance.

“Okay, this is where we split,” Caden said. He grabbed my hand and gave it a tight squeeze. “You got this Ember.”

I gave him a tight-lipped smile and squeezed his hand back.

With a parting glance, he let go of my hand and walked away.

I looked around the museum. Waiters carrying trays of champagne flitted through the walkways, offering them to the guests. I walked over to the nearest one and snagged a glass. I needed something to preoccupy my nervous hands. Not to mention that technically it was legal for me to drink in Mexico. So much for my earlier promise to never drink again. That lasted for what, five hours?

Now that my hands had something to do, I began to peruse the art displays hanging along the walls.

How was I going to possibly attract attention of a certain cartel boss?

“Bienvenido.”

Or I could let one fall into my lap. I turned and saw Emilio Santoro, the Columbian drug lord and perpetrator of several international human rights violations. He’d come right to me like a moth to the light.

“Hola señore,” I replied in what I thought was broken Spanish. I smiled and twirled the champagne in my glass.

“Cómo estás esta noche?” The photos had not done Emilio justice. He was hot. That was something I should’ve been warned about. It was hard to label someone as bad when they looked so good.

“Muy bien, gracias—el arte es maravilloso. Y tu?” I’d just used up about the extent of my Spanish vocabulary.

“The art is beautiful, but it is not what caught my attention,” he said in a thick Spanish accent. His eyes twinkled.

Dang it, he was a bad guy. Bad. Bad, bad, bad.

“You are American?”

I nodded, smiling coquettishly. I took a healthy swig of my champagne, cringing as it hit my stomach. A wave of hangover-induced nausea swept through me.

“But your Spanish is very good. I am impressed.”

“Hardly!” I said, trying hard to keep down the champagne and still act the part. “But that’s nice of you to say. I did have some incentive to learn it,” I admitted. “I have a thing for Latin men.” I let my eyes linger on his for a beat longer than was necessary, just to make sure he got the message.

He tilted his head back and laughed. “I thought American girls were shy. But you, you are una pirata.”

“I’m a pirate?” I smiled as I gave him an incredulous look, just to let him know that I was flirting and not judging. Even though—let’s be real—I was judging. Still, I’d pass on pissing off the drug lord.

He smiled, showing off his pearly whites, made even whiter by their contrast to his caramel skin.

“I hope you’re not expecting me to surrender the booty, because we pirates take our treasure very seriously,” I said.

That got another hearty laugh out of him.

“Mi pirata, who are you?”

I began backing away, knowing I had to vanish soon. I was supposed to hide in a restroom stall before that happened to prevent anyone from witnessing my disappearing act.

“That’s for me to know and you to figure out.” I think I swiped that line from a movie, but it seemed to do the trick.

“Wait—”

I threw a look over my shoulder, and flashed him what I hoped was a mysterious smile before concentrating on the bathrooms. I frowned at myself as I moved through the museum. That whole interaction left me feeling dirty and used.

As soon as I rounded the corner for the women’s restrooms, I noticed the line snaking out the door. Shoot. What was I going to do? I maybe had a minute left.

I let my gaze wander. I could find an empty corridor … wait, nope, there’d be guards. How about a broom closet? Nah, they were almost always locked. I could try to make it to the shrubs, but I wasn’t sure I had enough time left.

Obviously I should’ve seen this coming. There were always lines for women’s bathrooms. Lucky men. They didn’t have this problem.

The men’s bathrooms. Duh.

I crossed the hallway and entered the men’s restroom. Other than a lone man, who looked highly confused by my presence, I was alone. I walked to the nearest stall and closed the door.

Now this, this was my typical situation. Twenty seconds later, I dissolved.

There was a knock on my door. Before I could get up to open it, Caden sauntered into my room, flashing me his dimples. “Figured you’d be up.”

“When did you wake up?” I asked from where I rested against my headboard. I’d been sitting like that for some time, lost in my thoughts. The alarm next to my bed said it was 4:10 a.m.

“Just now,” Caden said. “You?”

“About an hour ago.” The sedatives from last night’s mission had screwed up our biorhythm. I wouldn’t be sleeping anytime soon.

He sat down next to me on my bed, and my body was painfully aware of the heat that seeped into me where his leg touched mine.

Caden turned to face me. “Congratulations on completing your first mission,” he said. “How’d it go?”

I shrugged. “Fine. You?”

“Same as always,” he said.

I studied his face. “You’ve been doing this for a while now, haven’t you?”

“Since I was eighteen.”

That wasn’t an answer. “And when did you turn eighteen?”

“Almost a year ago.”

My eyebrows rose in surprise. He was almost a year older than me. What had I thought? That because we were pairs we were born on the same day?

“Why had you gone on missions so much sooner than the rest of the teleporters in our class?”

“I volunteered to go on missions—most don’t, not until they’re drafted into it.”

“Is that what all of those simulations were? The rest of our class getting drafted into these missions.”

Caden nodded.

“Why would you volunteer for this?” I asked.

He stared at the ceiling. “I was bored here, and the missions gave me a rush. I’ve lived here since I was thirteen, and the project’s been training me since my arrival. I was ready to try out my skills.”

Thirteen. He’d been here for over five years. I wondered if they’d ever let Caden outside the facility other than to go on missions. I doubted it.

I played with a loose thread on my comforter. “How long has everyone else been here?” I asked. “Did they all come after they turned eighteen, or did they arrive when they were still minors?”

He shrugged. “I’d say roughly three fourths came before they were eighteen, and a fourth came after. Why?”

I chewed on my lip. “I’m just wondering how the government found us all.”

“Well,” Caden said, “for those of us who were minors, usually our parents found out about our abilities and contacted the Project. For me, I got shot.”

I glanced up sharply, but he wouldn’t look at me.

“That’s how my parents figured out my ability,” he continued. “As soon as they did, they called up the government and shipped me out,” he said, his eyes sad.

“For others, it was teleporting in front of their parents—for instance, falling asleep on the couch in the middle of a movie then disappearing. Things like that.”

I’d always been paranoid about my abilities, I just hadn’t realized how useful my paranoia was. I’d made a habit of going to bed last, avoiding sleepovers, and planning out excuses and explanations in case someone did see me teleport. My ability had made me an excellent strategist, but it had complicated my morals.

“I also think they’ve kept tabs on the families involved in the project after they discovered that our ability was tied to puberty,” Caden said.

I thought back to my own family, the continuous moves and their uneasy attitudes around the time I turned eighteen. Either they were being cautious, or they knew the program would look for me. I’d been so angry with them for all our moves, for never being able to make long-term friends. If only I’d known it was to prevent this.

“How does the government find teleporters who are adults?” I already had some vague idea that I’d somehow fallen into a mission or simulation of theirs when they found me, but I couldn’t figure out just how that came to be.

“You really want to know?” Caden asked.

I nodded.

He scooted his body so that his back faced me, and he began taking off his shirt.

“What are you doing?” I asked, my eyes widening. Having a half naked man on my bed was not exactly going to make me more focused.

He ignored me as he pulled his shirt over his head. I took in bronze skin speckled with scars, some long and white, others round—bullet and knife wounds. It was still strange that someone so friendly could be exposed to so much violence.

He brushed aside the wavy locks of hair that kissed the nape of his neck.

“Reminding you of this,” he said. “Our imprints.”

I stared at the same black, twisted lines I’d seen on him earlier. They discolored the skin of his neck and the top of his back, looking for all the world like tree roots.

“Your tattoo hides this, doesn’t it?” he said.

I nodded. “How exactly do these imprints tie into the government finding us?” I asked, absently reaching out to trace the strange markings.

“I’ll tell you, but you’re going to have to be really open about the explanation I give you.”

“Okay …” I trailed off.

“I talked to Dane about this once, and he said that the marking actually helps guide each teleporter to their destination.”

“Huh?”

“It acts like a magnet—this helps the project guide us to various locations across the world.”

“Magnets?” I raised my eyebrows. “That’s kind of an insane explanation.”

“How do you think homing pigeons get around so well? Same concept. I’m not saying I understand how it works. I’m just saying that it was part of the bioengineering that went into us.”

“So why did the mark only appear once I turned eighteen, and what does this have to do with the facility finding adult teleporters?”

“I don’t know, but I have a theory.” His eyes shined. “Each one of these imprints is different, which makes me think it’s some kind of teleporter fingerprint, a way to identify each individual. Combine that with its magnetic properties and now, if you’re the project, you have a way of locating adult teleporters.”

I leaned back and stared at the ceiling, thinking about what Caden said. I chewed on my lip, letting Caden’s disturbing theory sink in. It seemed so highly implausible, but if it were true … the project could always control where I teleported to.

The bed shifted, and a still shirtless Caden replaced my view of the ceiling. “You okay?” he asked.

I shook my head, not meeting his eyes. I’d worn unease like a second skin since I arrived. This entire elaborate program was built upon secrets, from the missions we went on to the very nature of our DNA. And what I’d learned so far about those secrets was that they protected very disturbing truths.

“Hey,” he said, brushing a piece of my hair aside, “whatever it is, know that we’re in this together.”

I gave him a sad smile. Even if Caden didn’t share my cynicism—and I wasn’t sure he did—he was the one person who I could trust.

I snaked my hands around his back and gently pulled him to me. He lowered his torso slowly and brought his lips to mine. His kiss was exactly what I needed, and without meaning to, I moaned into him.

I felt him smile against me at the sound. “God you are sexy,” he whispered.

At his words I pulled him even closer to me, and he deepened the kiss, brushing his tongue against mine.

I pushed myself against him as my lips responded, and my hands scoured his back, taking in every rippling muscle and rough scar.

Caden moved a hand to my waist, his fingers skimming over the exposed skin just below the hem of my shirt.

For a second his hand hesitated before slipping under. His hand moved up my stomach and dipped below my bra. I gasped when he began to massage my breast.

Heat pooled in my stomach; I wanted more. I moved my own hands to the button of his jeans, and with a deft yank, undid it.

Caden broke away from the kiss and slid his hand out from under my shirt. We were both breathing heavily.

His body was still flush against mine, but his head was bowed and he wouldn’t look at me. “I can’t do this,” he said.

I could read his worries from his body language. That he might die, and I’d fall apart like Desiree had. Or I might die, and he’d have to go through the same turmoil that Serena was going through now.

The thing was, sex wouldn’t change the awfulness of that situation. It would still suck, regardless.

I clasped my hands behind Caden’s neck, letting my fingers trace the upraised skin of his imprint. “There is no one else I’d even considered doing this with,” I said. “Please, I want this, with you, right now.”

“I have a secret,” he said, still not looking at me.

I watched him, saying nothing. Inside though, my heart hammered away.

Finally his eyes met mine. “I think I might be falling in love with you.”

If it was at all possible, my heart sped up even more as adrenaline surged through my veins.

Caden Hawthorne was falling in love with me. With me. My stomach tightened happily at the thought.

I pulled him closer and brushed my lips along his. His hands moved to my temples, his thumbs stroking the loose tufts of my hair.

“If you really want this—” His lips moved against mine as he spoke.

“I do.”

“Demanding princess.” He smiled against me.

“Please Caden.”

He groaned. “Jesus …” He kissed me again, this time rougher and deeper than before. Warmth pooled low in my abdomen.

I pushed him off of me and rolled us so that I straddled him. Grabbing the edges of my shirt, I pulled it over my head. I didn’t think I could get naked fast enough. My body swiveled to toss the garment aside.

Caden’s hands glided over my stomach and rib cage, but it was my tattoo that caught his attention. He ran his fingers over the inked feathers. Unlike me, he seemed like he was in no rush; he was going to take his own sweet time exploring my body.

I leaned down and kissed him, and his fingers lightly raked across my back, the sensation making my muscles tense.

The feeling bubbling up in my chest made me feel giddy. It wasn’t the burning desire that had me peeling off my clothes; it was something purer.

Caden had been genetically modified to match me, and I him. That thought, which had initially disturbed me, now filled me with lightness. I remembered my earlier words: I could easily love you.

Caden wasn’t the only one falling in love.

His hips moved against mine, and he flipped us. He reached under me and unclasped my bra.

My bra slipped off, and I shivered from the feel of cool air tickling my flesh and the way Caden drank me in. “You are so goddamn beautiful it kills me,” he said. He recaptured my mouth with his and I moaned again as I felt his pelvis push against mine. Why did we still have any clothes on?

As if reading my thoughts, he rolled off the bed and stepped out of his pants. He hooked his fingers under his boxers and slid those off. And then he stood there, looking like he’d been chiseled from marble.

I felt wetness pool between my legs, and my heart rate increased.

Caden pulled a condom from his jeans’ front pocket and set it on the bed, before coming over to me. He smiled mischievously as he rested his hands on the waistband of my cotton shorts. Nervous excitement coursed through me. His hands lingered only for a moment, and then he slid the shorts off.

He studied the pink panties I wore, the last piece of clothing left to remove. My heartbeat sped up when a moment later he peeled them off my hips.

He spent a moment just taking me in. “You are perfect,” he said, his voice reverent.

He got back onto the bed and cupped my face, drinking me in. He kissed my lips, then my chin, and then my neck. He trailed them down my chest, stopping to give each breast a bit of attention before continuing down. He kissed down my stomach and past my navel.

“Promise me you’re okay with this,” he whispered against my skin.

I swallowed, wetting my dry mouth. “I promise.” I was more than just okay with this. It felt like the rightest thing in the world.

Caden grabbed the condom and tore the wrapper before sliding it on. My whole body shook, from tension, from arousal, from anticipation.

He leaned over to kiss me, and when he pulled away from the kiss, he gently pushed into me, watching my eyes widen as I felt him enter.

My legs spread wider in response. I bit my lip at the initial pain.

“Are you okay?” he asked, starting to pull away.

I wrapped a hand around his arm. “Don’t stop,” I breathed out.

His eyes moved over my face, his brows furrowed in concern. He moved in and out of me gently, watching my expression. After a few strokes the pain passed, replaced by the first threads of pleasure.

Oh God, this is what I’d been missing out on?

As if reading my mind, Caden’s pace picked up, his thrusts deeper than before. I moaned at the feel of him buried inside of me. My hips moved to meet his, and I grabbed his ass to pull him closer.

He slid in and out, his gaze never leaving my face. My eyelids closed, and I felt a series of light kisses along my cheeks and chin.

When I opened my eyes, beautiful hazel ones stared back at me, full of awe. “I’m trying to remind myself that this is real,” Caden said.

I rose up to kiss him. “I promise you, it is.”

Our tempo increased, and a sensation inside of me was building on itself. My hips met his each time he thrust, feeding my desire.

My breath came faster and faster, until the sensation peaked. I clutched Caden to me and buried my face in his shoulder to muffle my cry as the orgasm racked my body.

Caden’s eyes closed and his hands pull me closer as he finished, his face the image of sweet relief.

After he pulled out and discarded the condom, Caden fell into bed next to me, and gathered me into his arms.

He kissed the top of my head as I wrapped my arms around him.

Our lives were a mess in so many ways, but maybe that was what made this moment particularly wonderful. Because right now, all was right in the world.

Chapter 24

“I can’t believe no one told you about early bird breakfast,” Caden said as we walked hand in hand down to the dining hall. He hadn’t really let go of me since back in my bedroom, but I wasn’t complaining.

“That’s supposed to be your job, partner,” I said. Although, in all fairness, Debbie hadn’t mentioned anything about it when she gave me a tour of the facility.

He used our intertwined hands to pull me to him. “I sort of like it when you’re sassy,” he said, leaning in and kissing me in the abandoned hallway. Distantly I could hear the clatter of utensils as the cooks prepared food.

“You know you’re rewarding bad behavior, right?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Would you rather I punish you?” He leaned into my ear. “Because we can arrange that,” he whispered.

Just as his words brought goose bumps to my skin, I heard a gasp. I flinched at the noise, startled that someone had snuck up on us while we’d been distracted.

Caden recovered before I did, his face turning towards the source of the sound. “Desiree …”

As soon as the words left his lips, my head snapped up.

She watched the two of us, her cheeks flushed and her eyes too bright.

As Caden and I parted to face her, she took in my tousled hair, heated cheeks, and rumpled clothes. Her eyes widened and her gaze flashed to Caden only for a moment, but long enough for me to see that something about her world had just crumbled.

Her throat worked. She turned her focus back on me. “You,” she said. She began to move down the hall, her steps getting faster as her emotions fueled her.

Caden stepped in front of me protectively. “Desiree, what are you doing?”

She stopped just in front of him, so close I could see fresh tears glittering in her eyes. “How could you Caden?” she said, her voice full of betrayal.

“You know why Desiree,” he said quietly. “You experienced it once before.”

Her lips curled in disgust and her body shook as she stared at me.

Hate. Had Debbie asked me to place the expression Desiree wore, that’s what I would’ve told her. She hated me. And by the look on her face, I could tell she was going to do something about it. Not now, but soon.

To her, she had lost a critical battle, but the war had just begun.

A cellphone alarm went off next to my bed, and the warm body beneath me sat up and rubbed my back. “Time to get up, Sleeping Beauty.”

I stretched, a smile blossoming on my face. I didn’t want to open my eyes and face the day. After our run-in with Desiree, we’d grabbed breakfast and made it back to my room, where we enjoyed each other again. Sometime after that, we’d managed to fall asleep.

A kiss brushed my lips and my eyes fluttered open. Caden leaned over me, shirtless, and I traced one of his scars with my fingers.

“Our debriefing for yesterday’s mission is in thirty minutes,” he said. At the reminder I snapped out of my daze. Mission. Debriefing. Facility. I couldn’t pretend to be a smitten schoolgirl all day, unfortunately.

“I don’t want to leave you,” he said, “but I need to run to my room to grab a quick shower and change clothes.”

“No problem,” I said, pushing back my hair.

Caden dressed next to me and, before he turned to go, he came back over to me and pressed a kiss to my lips. “I’m still waiting to wake up,” he whispered against my mouth.

I smiled against him. “I guess I’m just going to have to convince you over and over again that this isn’t a dream.”

At that, he pulled away and flashed me a mischievous grin. “I’m pretty skeptical, so more convincing is always better.”

I laughed and pushed him gently. “Get out of here before I decide to try to convince you here and now.”

Once Caden left, I took a quick shower and changed, making it to the debriefing room with only a few minutes to spare.

Caden was already there, along with almost everyone else from last night’s mission. I took a seat next to him, my heart stuttering when I saw all the happy emotions playing out on his face.

I sat down next to him and he took my hand in his. I savored the warmth of his palm and his rough, calloused skin.

Across the room Desiree flashed me a dirty look. She made a disgusted sound at the sight of us leaning towards one another, hands clasped. Some of the other teleporters in the room noticed and glanced back and forth at the three of us.

I’d never been so excited to see Dane Richards as when he entered the room.

“Fantastic job you all,” he said as a way of greeting.

He dropped a file on the flat table at the front of the room. “The mission was a sweeping success, and every one of you in this room did superbly.

“After we bugged Santoro and Zhirov, we found that another meeting between the two is scheduled in two weeks at Santoro’s estate. So far, only information has been exchanged between the two, but at this meeting they’ll be finalizing a contract for the shipment of military grade weapons from Colombia to North Ossetia, a region located on the southwestern edge of Russia.

“Because you all worked so well together back in Mexico City, we want you eight to do this again in Colombia.”

Richards glanced around the room, searching for someone, until he caught sight of me. “Ah, Ember, a special congratulations goes out to you. After you left, Santoro had his men do some digging around on who you were. It seems as though he took a liking to you.” Out of my peripherals I saw Caden stiffen.

I gave Richards a pained smile. I’d have to see him again? I was a one-hit-wonder when it came to these trips. Adrian was the prime example of what happened when I visited someone more than once. Who knew how the next meeting with Santoro would turn out?

“We’ve created a fake backstory for you,” he continued. “Someone will send it to you later today. Memorize it—because he probably will.”

There was a knock on the door and a second later Debbie came into the room.

“Ah Debbie, good to see you,” Richards said. He turned his attention back to the room. “Now, let’s go through a recap of the evening, starting with Jeff, Bryce, and Lydia.”

The group of us spent the next hour discussing and analyzing what we did and didn’t do, what seemed to work well with our targets, and what didn’t get us anywhere.

Because no one got hurt, the counseling aspect of our meeting was minimal, but the eight of us teleporters still had to share our thoughts and emotions about the mission.

The lies and half-truths came easily when it was my turn to share my feelings. I’d been covering my tracks for years. And even in this I didn’t want the project understanding how I worked. The more they understood me, the more they could manipulate me.

From their faces, I’d managed to convince almost everyone—only Caden saw through it. I could tell by the way he watched me for a beat too long after I’d finished talking. I wasn’t sure if that made me feel better or worse.

When the debriefing finally wrapped up and we got up to go, Richards called out, “Ember, Caden, stay back a moment, will you?”

Caden and I exchanged a look and walked towards Richards. He put his arms around Caden and me and pulled us in close. I fought the urge to shrug off his arm.

“I have a small mission for you two—another distract and extract procedure. This one’s fairly simple and harmless. A few days ago a group of individuals broke into the Smithsonian and stole several particularly rare gemstones.

“Jacque Mainard, the Frenchman behind the robbery, is speaking at a convention held at the end of the week in a seaside hotel in Toulon, France, where he is staying at the moment. Because the subject of the speech concerns these stones, we believe he’ll have the stones on or near him.

“Both of you will be sent into his hotel room where the gemstones are most likely to be located. If they’re not there, then another distract and extract pair will follow you both to check out other locations. But, our sources suggest that the hotel room is the likeliest place these stones will be.

“Ember, you are the distraction. You’ll go in first, grab the case that contains the stones, empty it, and leave the room with the empty case. Your job will be to draw attention to yourself. While you are distracting your targets, Caden will teleport into the room and pick up the stones, then slip out of the room and rendezvous with the team outside of the building. Ember you’ll likely be handcuffed and held in custody until you teleport back.”

He looked at Caden and me. “Think you two can handle this?”

“Yes,” Caden replied for the both of us.

“Great. You’ll be sent the necessary information later this week. You two may go.”

I took in the vaguely familiar family pictures and homely furniture of the living room I stood in.

“Finally you’re back. Took you long enough,” Adrian said from where he lounged on his couch. He closed the laptop on his lap and set it on the coffee table next to a steaming cup of coffee.

“Yeah, I’ve been putting this off for as long as I could,” I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes. I moved my eyes over the same series of photos I’d looked at last time I was here. I saw a younger version of Adrian in several.

“Listen,” I said, “I need to talk to you about the Prometheus Project. I don’t know why they’re after you, but I’ve decided to trust you, and—”

Adrian stood up. “You’ve decided to trust me? You’ve got some enormous balls saying that. You were the one who was after me!”

I sighed. “I already told you a million times, I wasn’t after you. But that’s beside the point. I’ve learned things about the project … I can’t sit by and let it go.” I swallowed at the memory of Eric’s spliced body. “I was hoping you could help me.”

Adrian was quiet for a long time. “How do I know that you aren’t just setting me up?”

“What, you think I’m trying to trick you into something?” I asked.

His face told me plainly that yes, he thought I might be trying to.

I exhaled. “I’m not trying to set you up.” My eyes unfocused. “There’s a filing cabinet full of reports of dead teleporters and another with files on the pregnant ones.”

My vision refocused, and I glanced at Adrian. “They were all teenagers, and they were forced to die or become parents far earlier than they should. And that’s the same fate that awaits me, too, if I let it. I’ll become nothing more than lethal livestock.”

I swallowed and continued. “When I first met you, the project didn’t know of my existence and I didn’t know of theirs. When I teleported to that club with a gun and the instructions to kill you, I had no idea who had sent me and why they wanted you dead—I didn’t even know it was possible for someone to harness my ability. But I’d been hiding from organizations like the Prometheus Project, ones who would exploit my talent.”

I watched his face as I spoke. At first he’d looked skeptical, but slowly I could see how my words worked away at that emotion.

“The Promethus Project’s director and some of its staff showed up at my door the day after I opened your father’s safe. They took me to a facility that night, a facility surrounded by razor wire and guard towers.”

“I have nothing to lose,” I said. My throat worked at my words. That was lie. Now I had something to lose. Caden.

“What do you want from me?” Adrian asked.

“Your help. I want to expose the project, so that others like me can have a chance at a normal life.” This was no longer about simple escape. It was about stopping the project altogether. “I wouldn’t ask this of you, except the facility has screened all incoming and outgoing communication; I have reason to believe they’ve even screened where I teleport to.”

Adrian’s face became distrustful once more. “If they’re screening where you go, then they must’ve sent you here.”

I shook my head. “I don’t understand the extent of what they can do when it comes to guiding where I teleport, but I think that if they knew how to send me to you, they would’ve already captured you. This, I believe, wasn’t orchestrated by the project.” Whatever the project’s methods were, they were imperfect. How could they not be? You couldn’t completely contain a teleporter that could go anywhere in the world.

The wariness in Adrian’s eyes dissipated as he thought over what I’d told him. “So you want me to help you expose the Prometheus Project?” he finally said.

I hesitated, then nodded.

He rubbed his jaw and studied me for a long time before he spoke. His eyes looked troubled. “Let me think about it before I agree to anything.”

I felt my face fall, and Adrian sighed. “I’m not against helping you—in fact, what I’ve recently learned only makes me more eager to help—but I need to figure out exactly how to do that without getting killed in the process.”

I desperately wanted to beg, to plead, to do anything to further convince him—especially since I didn’t know when I’d see him next—but I could tell that he really did need time. If I pushed him now, it might turn him off completely to the idea.

“Fine,” I said, dropping the issue.

“I also have news for you.” He dragged a hand down his face. “I know you don’t have much time left, so I’ll just come out and tell you what you need to know. I’ve been doing research on the ability you have.”

“You mean teleporting,” I said, glancing at a photo of Adrian as a young boy and an older man.

He nodded. “I’ve also been reading through those notes of my father’s that you tried to steal.”

I rolled my eyes and picked up the photo, studying it. “I didn’t try to steal—”

He put a hand up to stop me. “Would it surprise you to know that those notes mention you specifically?”

I froze. “I’m sorry, what?” I looked up from the picture in my hands.

“My father,” he said, his green eyes piercing, “he led the team that created you.”

The picture frame slid from my hands and crashed to the floor, the glass breaking. “Your father did this to me?” I asked. He’d mentioned that his father was involved, but not that his father had actually led the team that had altered my genes—that he had notes written up on me, that he knew my name.

His lips thinned. “Not just you. He did this to many others—including me.”

Chapter 25

“You can teleport?” I asked, my voice hushed.

He shook his head. “No. I was never a part of the project. I—I was the son he always wanted.”

I picked up the photo I dropped. I studied the image. The man in the photo was old and pockmarked. Small teeth poked out between thin lips. He had the misfortune of having both an overbite and a weak chin. “Is this your father?” I didn’t bother to look up.

“Yes. And the boy is me.”

Unlike his father, Adrian had perfect features, even as a child. Green eyes framed by long lashes, a heart-shaped face, and a sweet smile.

“You two don’t look—”

“Alike?” he finished for me. “I know. Although it might surprise you to know that I do share his same genetics; he just played extensively with mine.”

“What else did he do to you?” I asked.

“He made sure I was highly intelligent, and that I’d be kind and empathetic in nature.”

“He might’ve messed that one up,” I said.

“Very funny,” he said, smiling sadly at the photo in my hands. “I miss him. He died a few months ago. He really was a great guy.”

“Uh huh.” I knew my response was somewhat rude, but I mean, the man had played God and ruined my life in the process.

“He knew what he did was wrong,” Adrian said, his eyes gliding up to meet mine. “Which is why he created you.”

All was quiet for a few seconds. I cleared my throat. “Now I really don’t understand what you’re talking about.” I put the picture back on the shelf and folded my arms protectively in front of me.

“In his notes my father left a list of the teleporters he altered slightly differently from the rest. These individuals were coded to be defiant, curious, and mistrustful by nature.

He came over to me and wrapped his hands around my forearms. The feel of his touch made me start. “Ember, you’re on that list.”

My eyes widened. I wasn’t exactly surprised that someone did this to me, just that out of all the teleporters created, I was one of the few who’d been coded to cause trouble.

“The project wanted these types of traits to be extinguished from their teleporters. I mean, what use is a good weapon if you can’t control it?” Adrian’s eyes began to sparkle with excitement, and I took a step back, my lips turning down at the corners.

“So my father studied the couples participating, read their files, and after picking out a few of them, he went in and tweaked additional genes in these couples’ future children.

“He altered only the subtlest of genes—genes that helped nudge personality traits in one direction or another. The project screened against the main genes that coded for character traits, so he stuck to ones that, with the right combination of nature and nurture, could be influenced.”

I raised my eyebrows at this.

“He’d chosen couples that appeared to be the most likely to nurture these traits in the right direction.”

I thought of my own parents. They’d always allowed me to be my own person and always encouraged me to ask questions; they’d been the perfect candidate for his father’s little side project.

“It was a gamble whether the whole thing would work or not. But now I know it did—your actions are proof.”

I rubbed my forehead, trying to process this information. The thought that my genes had been toyed with a little more than the others made me feel worse rather than better. Sure, it explained some things, but sometimes ignorance was blissful.

“If you really think I’m proof that your father’s little experiment worked, then why did you only just decide to fully trust me?” I asked.

He folded his arms and gave me a look. “Please, I wasn’t born yesterday. Self-preservation can trump even the most defiant behavior. I had to assume that if a teleporter like you survived this long, you’d have a strong sense of self-preservation. But now that you’ve realized just how dire your situation currently is, I figured I could finally trust you.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I said sarcastically, mostly to cover how much his words had shaken me. How much this whole conversation had shaken me.

“So,” I said, “what happened to the others?” I asked.

“You mean the others whose genes were altered like yours?”

I nodded.

He shrugged. “Perhaps some died. The traits probably never expressed themselves in others. There might be more out there who are also defiant, but you’re the one living at the facility, so you tell me: have you noticed any other teleporters expressing insubordinate behavior?”

I shook my head. No, I hadn’t noticed. Not that it meant anything. Survival, after all, did trump disobedience.

I rubbed my forehead. “What was your father hoping to accomplish by altering me and the others on that list?”

“I told you—he developed a conscience somewhere along the way. He wanted the program to self-destruct, and he wanted one of you to do it.”

As soon as I woke up the next morning, I snatched up an old notebook and began to scribble down everything I could remember about my conversation with Adrian the night before. When I was done, I rubbed my hand and thought over all I’d learned.

What was more amazing than the idea that a scientist had plotted this all out nearly two decades ago was that, somehow, his vision was going according to plan.

I didn’t know how much nature and nurture each affected who we became, but it appeared that, if the right combo occurred, it might actually account for a lot. After all, I seemed to not be fitting in the same way the other teleporters were. I was the loner, the one who asked too many questions. The others—even Caden—truly had the ideal soldier mentality: they worked together, defended each other with their lives, and didn’t question orders.

On a whim I booted up my computer to do a little research on Adrian’s father. While I waited for my computer to start up, I chewed on my pen.

It was awfully convenient that I’d happened to meet Adrian—the girl who questioned orders hand delivered the scientist’s son his father’s work. That was way too remote a possibility to be a coincidence.

But if it wasn’t a coincidence, then what exactly was going on?

Once my computer turned on, I opened up a browser. I first searched for Adrian Sumner, remembering his last name from that first note I’d received weeks ago. I was only researching him to find information on his father, but as soon as I Googled Adrian Sumner, the results were too interesting not to read.

He’d had several pieces written on him in famous publications, such as the Huffington Post, Men’s Health, and Scientific American.

Adrian was a Yale graduate who’d gone on to work with computers, rather than genes like his father. He’d designed and patented several innovations that big name tech industries had bought off, and according to the Huffington Post, he was making astounding progress in the field of artificial intelligence.

When he wasn’t pushing his technology in Silicon Valley, he was living the high life as a New York socialite—whatever the hell that meant. The photos of him were glamorous, one sleek shot of him in a suit was followed by another of him reclining on a yacht with a famous actor. I didn’t know which disgusted me more—his yuppie life or that I’d ruined it.

I opened another tab and located an article on Adrian that linked him to his father, Dr. Brent Sumner. Bingo.

I typed his father’s name into the search bar and hit Enter. For the next fifteen minutes, I flipped through page after page on the good ol’ doctor.

I chewed my lip as I read through all he’d done. His fame came from not just understanding human genes, but how they each affected one another. In addition, he’d spent a great deal of his time working with dark matter, sections of DNA that did not contain genes, but were triggers for expressing genes.

Triggers for expressing genes. That sounded frighteningly similar to what Adrian had told me last night. I might’ve just found the smoking gun behind my temperament.

I blinked and focused my gaze once more on the search results. Not too surprisingly the only mention of Dr. Sumner’s work within the Prometheus Project was from an obscure source that mentioned in the most vague of terms Dr. Brent Sumner’s time working for the government. Instead, the bulk of the articles lauded him for his role in gene therapy, especially his humanitarian efforts in Nigeria and South Africa, where he helped treat patients with HIV.

I went back to the images of Adrian and shook my head.

If Adrian was telling the truth and his dad had been the lead scientist on the project, then a couple things seemed apparent. One, someone had gone to great lengths to disassociate Sumner from the Prometheus Project. No big surprise there. If the government didn’t want the program to be public knowledge, then it wouldn’t be.

Two, Dr. Sumner did in fact appear to have had a change of heart when it came to genomics, if his humanitarian efforts were anything to go by. Which meant Adrian might be telling the truth.

But did it matter? My one greatest ally, the good doctor, had pulled the ultimate vanishing act—death.

A knock on my door interrupted my musings.

“Come in!” I yelled.

Caden sauntered in with a banana and toast. “You weren’t at breakfast this morning, so I thought I’d bring you some food.” He came over to where I sat and dropped the breakfast food in front of me.

My face slowly broke out into a grin. “That was so nice of you,” I said, grabbing the banana.

He leaned in so close that I could feel his cool breath against my skin. “Nice wouldn’t be the word I’d use. Excuse is far more accurate. I got you breakfast as an excuse to come visit you and kiss those lips of yours a few times before class starts.”

I put the banana down and let him pull me to my feet. His arms slipped around me, and I wrapped mine around his neck as I tilted my head back to kiss him.

Soft lips met mine, and I began to get lost in the taste of Caden when his body stilled and he broke off the kiss.

“Why are you looking at photos of Adrian Sumner?” Caden’s voice sounded funny.

I glanced up at Caden sharply. “You know him?”

“Do you?” he asked, turning my question back on me.

I didn’t immediately answer. While I wanted to confide in Caden, I knew his loyalties lay with the project. And I knew mine lay elsewhere.

I sighed. “Yes.”

Caden waited for me to say more. When I didn’t he asked, “How?”

I shrugged. “He bought me a drink at a party once. We’ve been reluctant friends ever since.”

“Did you know that he’s wanted for treason? That we’ve been attempting to capture him for weeks?”

I hadn’t known about the treason charge, but I had known that he was on the run from the government.

When my expression didn’t change, Caden’s eyes hardened. “That doesn’t bother you?”

“Oh, a whole lot of things about Adrian’s situation bother me, but if you knew what I did you probably wouldn’t have the same opinion about him.”

“I seriously doubt that.” He studied me. “What do you know about him?” From the tone of his voice, that wasn’t the question Caden wanted an answer to. No, if I read him right, then he wanted to know what Adrian meant to me.

I glanced at the clock. We had thirty minutes before our first class started. Enough time to let Caden in and tell him everything.

I chewed on my lip. My self-preservation warred with my need for companionship. I wanted to tell him what was going on, but I didn’t know how much of Caden was dedicated to me and how much was dedicated to the government.

Faith—I’d never had much of this. Maybe now was the time to learn how to have faith in another human being.

I took a deep breath. “The first time I met Adrian was the day after my eighteenth birthday, and a week before I came here. I showed up to a party of his carrying a gun and a note to kill him.”

Caden looked affronted by this. “Do you think … ?”

“That it was the project? I don’t know—probably.” Now that I’d reflected on it, that first encounter felt awfully serendipitous. “Who else could it be?”

Caden’s brow furrowed, and I continued. “The next time I saw Adrian, I had just teleported into his study with another set of instructions—a series of cryptic numbers that ended up being the combination for a safe embedded in the wall. The safe contained journals and several dark gray stones. Adrian came in shortly after I’d opened the safe.”

I spent the next twenty minutes explaining the rest of my visits with Adrian and his link to the Prometheus Project. The only thing I left out was my genetically altered personality traits and my plan to expose the project.

While I spoke, I kept waiting for Caden’s eyes to soften and the severe set of his mouth to smooth out. They didn’t.

Even after my explanation, Caden remained unconvinced. “Ember, Adrian Sumners is wanted for treason. He’s a bad guy. If he could two-time a nation, why couldn’t he be two-timing you?”

So much for faith. “Why is it so hard to believe that he might be telling the truth? That there might be a dark side to the project we’re a part of?”

Caden gave me an incredulous look. “I know there’s a dark side to the project. There are plenty of things that are not right about our situation, but think about the bigger picture here. We protect American civilians—millions of lives—through our actions.”

He brushed aside a lock of my hair; the sweet gesture was ruined by the hardness in Caden’s eyes. “If what you’re saying is true, and he has the notes on how we were created, then he is a threat to national security. He can sell those notes to the highest bidder—and don’t think he won’t. Even decent people will deceive others to save their necks.” Ironic that Adrian had said almost exactly the same thing about me last night.

“Ember, this is bigger than us. Our situation may be unfair, but it helps the greater good. That’s worth something, right?” Caden’s raised his eyebrows.

I blew out a breath and shook my head. “But don’t you think there might be a conflict of interest here?”

Caden sighed as though I hadn’t even understood the point he made. I had, I was just a little more mistrustful of the project’s altruistic aims when it came to us.

“Just hear me out,” I said. “Saying this is a national security issue is one way to look at it, but here’s another way: whatever is in those notes is highly incriminating. If it’s exposed, the world will see that our gene code was messed with. And if anyone does a little more digging, they’ll find that our parents didn’t consent to that.

“They might also uncover the fact that the project trains minors to be soldiers, that we’re prisoners here, and our military contract isn’t for two years, it’s for life.

“My point is, those notes may or may not be a threat to national security, but they are absolutely a threat to the project.”

Reluctantly Caden nodded. “I see your point. I still think the government has a logical explanation for their actions, but I’ll keep a more open mind about Adrian.”

It wasn’t the response I wanted, but I’d take it.

After dinner that evening, I spent two hours sparring with Caden, just as I had most nights since I arrived. Now that I was also practicing my shot with him, our evenings were spent training together.

Tonight we’d sacrificed working on my aim for an extended amount of close combat training. I had spent most of tonight’s practice honing my form and noticing the subtle physical cues of my opponent.

But now we were wrapping up with a match. I threw first my right then my left fist at Caden. When he blocked those, I retreated. He followed me, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet.

From the way his body dipped and his muscles tensed, I could tell he was about to throw a punch of his own. I used my left arm to block the blow before it could land and threw an underhand punch to his gut. As he caught his breath I swiped his legs from underneath him. His body smacked the mat, and I heard the rest of the air in his lungs whoosh out.

I was finally getting good at this.

He struggled to get up, so rather than push him back down, I straddled him. “I finally got you just where I want you.” I flashed him a wicked smile, thinking about all the naughty things we did the last time I’d straddled him.

He wheezed, still catching his breath. “Have I ever told you … I kind of have a thing for girls in blue foam helmets?”

The edges of my mouth curled up and I gave him a quick kiss. I pushed myself to my feet and helped Caden to his.

“Great job princess,” he said as he stood up.

“Thanks—I learned from the best,” I said as I took off my helmet.

“No really. You beat me at sparring, and I have five years of training under my belt. You beat a trained opponent.”

Now I was listening.

“Do you know what that means?” he asked, his gaze intense.

“Um, … I get a naked hug?”

He smiled at my comment, but his expression didn’t change. “You can hold your own during a mission. You don’t have to rely on anyone else to get you out of a sticky situation.”

His words sunk in. I could defend myself. I still had a lot to learn, but I allowed myself to feel some momentary satisfaction.

My mood quickly turned grim. The facility had equipped me to forcefully handle threats. They had created and enabled a monster.

The problem with monsters was that they couldn’t be trusted.

We put away the equipment and walked out of the gym holding hands. My heart fluttered from the skin on skin contact, which only made me want more of Caden.

“So,” I said casually, “I was thinking we could visit the lake—you know, to celebrate the fact that I’m a lethal weapon.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Trying to collect on that naked hug?”

“Stop reading me like a book.” The simple truth was that I just wanted to spend as much time as I could with him.

He laughed and pulled me to him. “I think someone likes me.”

My heart pounded quickly in my chest. Unfortunately for the both of us, it was so much more than that.

Chapter 26

When we arrived at the lake, the stars twinkled brightly above us. Caden dropped the backpack he’d brought with him and pulled out a blanket and a thermos.

“Hot chocolate,” he said, passing the container to me.

I set down the flashlight I held to take the thermos from him. “I think I just fell in love with you all over again,” I said. The moment the words were out, I froze.

Caden’s head shot up, and his sharp gaze focused on me. “What did you just say?”

I shook my head, glad that he couldn’t see the flush creeping up my cheeks. Seconds ticked by, and all I could hear were the sounds of distant crickets and frogs.

Pine needles snapped as Caden came over to me. The moon and the dim glow of the flashlight were all that illuminated his face as he took my hand. “Please,” he said, squeezing it.

Adrenaline surged through me and my pulse spiked. I felt like a trapped animal. Survival was what I was good at—blending in, fleeing, fighting, and flirting my way out of trouble.

But I wasn’t good at this. Not by a long shot. My feelings for Caden felt like just another secret that, once revealed, could then be used against me.

I gazed up at him. Even in the dim light his eyes shined. He’d peeled away all the layers he wore around others—for me. I could do the same for him.

“I love you.” I whispered the words, and again they were followed by that same unnerving silence.

His eyes moved between mine. “Say it again.”

“I love you.” I shifted my weight, but I didn’t look away. Those three simple words made me feel both vulnerable and powerful.

A smile lit up his entire face, and those endearing dimples pressed into his cheeks. “I love you too,” he said, his voice light. As if it were simple.

And then he leaned in and kissed me. Caden’s lips were the only thing soft about him, but even they lost their softness as the kiss turned from something sweet to something more demanding.

His hands found my waist and they tightened before gliding up my ribcage, pushing my shirt up with it. He tugged the piece of clothing over my head, barely dropping it before he reached a hand around my torso and unsnapped my bra.

Caden broke off the kiss long enough to pick me up and gently place me on the blanket. He tugged his own shirt off, and in the pale moonlight the hard planes of his chest were cast in shades of blue.

His body pressed into me as he lowered himself. I closed my eyes briefly to relish the sensation of his chest coming into contact with mine. My hands skimmed up along his abs. Unlike my smooth skin, his had dips and rises where his scars and muscles stretched his skin taut.

He watched me as I memorized the feel of him, the moonlight reflecting off of his eyes. “We’re so fucking screwed,” he said, shaking his head. His voice was low and hushed.

I paused briefly, my eyes moving away from his defined pecs to his face. “I know,” I whispered. And I did know. Sooner or later something would happen to one of us; the whole thing would unravel. And if this was what love felt like, then I couldn’t even begin to imagine what loss felt like.

My hands trailed lower, until my fingers hit the edges of his jeans. I unhooked the button and unzipped them, tugging them off of him. There was desperation to my movements. Loving Caden and knowing that I could lose him any day made me eager to close the distance between us.

Caden caught my hands and kissed them before letting them go so he could stand up. He slid off both his pants and his boxer briefs before he knelt in front of me.

He unzipped my pants and slid them off slowly. Then he cocked his head. “Is someone wearing my favorite pair of panties?” he asked, his dimples appearing.

I glanced down at the G-string I wore and raised my eyebrows as the realization hit me. They were the pair I’d shoved in my backpack the day he caught me.

“You remembered what they looked like?”

Caden lifted his gaze long enough to give me a heated look. “As if I could forget.” He snapped the strap of them. “I’ve had fantasies about seeing you in these since then.”

I smothered a smile. “It’s scary how good your memory and eyesight are when it comes to things that interest you.”

A wicked smile spread across his face, but all he said was, “These are definitely staying on.”

“Only if you ask politely,” I said.

He leaned forward and kissed me while his fingers brushed aside the thin material and dipped inside me. “Please,” he said as my breath caught.

My my muscles tensed at the sensation of being stroked from the inside. “Oh, God, yes,” I replied against his mouth. I’d agree to just about anything so long as he kept that up.

And then his thumb got involved in the action.

Something awfully close to a whimper came out of me as he stroked my clit. My stomach tightened at the waves of pleasure. “Jesus Caden, have a little mercy.”

He kissed the area where my jaw met my ear. “I think I want to hear you beg some more.”

Ha—don’t mess with a sexed-up woman. “I’m only going to say this once,” I breathed, “and then I go into death-slayer mode: get the condom on and please finish what you’ve started.”

Caden laughed against my skin, not at all bothered by the threat in my voice.

“Fine, princess. Your wish is my command.”

His skin was gone for the barest of moments—just long enough for him to grab and put on the condom I knew he’d packed—and then he lay back on top of me.

Caden lifted a leg and slid in slowly, allowing my body to adjust to him. And then just as tantalizingly slow, he pulled almost all the way out before sliding deep into me.

Now I really did whimper. And damn him, he wore the smug smile of a guy who knew just how good he was.

He readjusted himself so that he was propped up by his elbows. He watched me as he increased his tempo. “I love you,” he said, his face serious.

My eyelids fluttered. “I love you too.” Funny how those words got easier to say the more I voiced them.

“I don’t think I’m ever going to get tired of hearing that.”

“You better not,” I said, my words breathy as Caden moved in and out of me faster and faster.

I heard him chuckle against my skin.

The rhythm built up on itself and I clutched him tighter. My body shook and I cried out as my orgasm rippled through me.

His thrusts got harder and deeper until he stilled for the barest of moments. I watched his eyelids close and his perfect lips part, and then he came, his mouth curving up into a smile as he forced his eyes open.

After he finished, he lowered himself until he lay on me, his expression lazy. “If this is your idea of a naked hug, then I think I’m going to have to let you win more at sparring, princess.”

Caden had rolled onto his back and pulled me up against him, where I laid my head on his chest. His fingers skimmed along the exposed skin of my back, tracing all those places he’d kissed just minutes ago. I breathed in the smell of pine, trying to hold onto this moment.

I let my own fingers trail over his bronze skin, feeling the puckered lines and shallow craters that made up his scars.

“Tell me something no one knows about you,” I whispered. I wanted to know this man a bit more—the only guy who’d ever managed to get under my skin and find his way into my heart.

I felt his chest rise and fall as he swallowed. “Are you sure you want to know that kind of secret?” he asked.

His response made me pause. Finally I said, “Yes.”

The fingers at my back moved faster, agitated. “My father was an intelligence analyst at the time of the program’s inception,” Caden said, “and my mother was a stay-at-home mom.”

I had no idea where this story was going, but it was the first time he’d spoken about his family, so I listened intently.

“My father had done a couple tours of duty, and he felt very strongly about serving his country. So when Dane Richards—a soldier he fought alongside with—told him about the Prometheus Project and its aims, he agreed to participate in any way he could.”

Caden’s voice had a bitter edge to it. “My parents had three children before me—all girls—and this was my father’s chance to have a prized son. A son that would follow in his father’s footsteps by serving his country.”

I was more surprised that Caden had three older female siblings than I was his conception. “All my parents knew was that I’d be created with the ideal qualities of a soldier. But they didn’t know about the teleportation.” Now the anger in his voice was unmistakable.

“So I grew up under my parents’ care, my father instilling in me all those qualities that he prized so much. Honor. Courage. Duty. Sacrifice. And I worshipped the ground he walked on.” Caden’s voice wavered.

“When I was thirteen, I hit puberty. My voice began to change, I grew in size and height—you know, normal stuff. Except one night several months after my birthday, right after I fell asleep, I disappeared. It took me a few trips to realize exactly what was happening to me. But once I figured out that I was teleporting, I told my father.”

I could see Caden’s neck working. “He didn’t believe me.” He laughed humorlessly. “I realize now that was so much better than him knowing the truth.”

He pulled me in close. “A couple months after I acquired the ability, I teleported to some guy’s farm.”

Caden’s face darkened. “I don’t know where I teleported to, but I found myself in a place where a man defends his family and property with his gun.

“The owner of this farm saw my silhouette, and he began screaming at me. I knew I was in trouble when I heard the pitch of his angry voice. Quick to violence—that’s what the sound told me.

“Sure enough he pulled out his shot gun, and I ran. I realize now the man must’ve seen that as a sign of my guilt. There was no warning shot. The guy aimed and fired.” My eyes widened.

“Most of the pellets missed, but some caught me on the side of the torso.” I knew the scars he was talking about—I’d touched them seconds ago—and I ran my hand over them again.

“When I returned to my bedroom, I woke up screaming. My parents ran into my room, shocked to see me lying in a pool of blood. I was rushed to the hospital, and my wounds were treated.”

“But you weren’t spliced?” I asked, interrupting him.

His fingers paused on my back. I couldn’t tell if he was surprised I knew about splicing, or if he simply forgot for a moment that I was here.

“No, I wasn’t,” he finally said.

He resumed tracing my back and picked up where his story left off. “Only once they saw my impossible injury, did my parents believe I could teleport. There was no other explanation other than teleportation—had I been shot in the house, they would’ve heard the gun go off, and if I’d been shot somewhere else, there would’ve been a trail of blood leading to my bed.”

Caden paused, and I thought he’d finished telling the story until he began speaking again. “As soon as my parents realized I was different, my father called up Dane. I didn’t hear the call—I was cooped up in a hospital bed—but I saw his face. He looked at me as though I were a stranger.”

Again Caden swallowed. “My dad has a black-and-white worldview. One where there are only truths and lies, people are either good or evil, and actions are either right or wrong. If you’re not one, you’re the other.

“There was no longer room for me in that belief set; I fell somewhere in between those extremes. I knew from his face that things between us would never be the same again.

“That was the last day I saw my family. Once I was discharged from the hospital, it was Dane and Debbie who picked me up.

“I haven’t seen or spoken to my father since. I’ve exchanged emails with my sisters and I’ve talked to my mother a handful of times over the phone.” The project allowed Caden to contact his loved ones; I tried to not feel bitter about that.

“But,” he continued, “my family’s made it clear that I belong to the government, not them.”

We were quiet for a long time afterwards. I traced his lips, the action making a dimple appear. “Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me,” I said softly.

His arms tightened around me. “God I’m so glad you didn’t say you were sorry,” he said. “I don’t think I could’ve handled pity.”

I squeezed him and kissed the hollow where his shoulder muscles met his neck. “I don’t pity you. I pity your father. He gave up his chance to see the kind of man you’d become.”

Next to my face Caden’s throat worked. The lightness of the evening was gone. For Caden, it had been replaced by the reminder of his father.

For me, it illustrated just how far down the rabbit hole Caden had fallen. Now I understood why Caden in particular held on so tightly to the idea that the project had altruistic aims. This facility was his family—they’d been the ones there for him when his biological family wasn’t.

The realization left a sour taste in my mouth. I would eventually expose the Prometheus Project for what it was, or die trying. And when that happened, it would force Caden’s hand. He’d have to pick his family—the facility—or me.

I knew how this would play out. I’d lose. It was a dichotomy after all, an either-or situation. And just as Caden didn’t fit into the ones his father created, I’m not sure he’d want to fit into mine.

Chapter 27

“… I’ve been the one here next to you all these years. Not her. Me,” Desiree said. Her voice was the first thing I recognized when I teleported into Caden’s room later that night. Desiree’s back was to me, but I could see her shoulders shaking.

I gazed around Caden’s room. We’d come back from the lake about thirty minutes ago and parted ways outside my room. After that, I’d gone straight to bed. Caden, apparently, hadn’t.

Caden stood facing me, and his eyes moved to mine as soon as he saw me appear. I took a step back.

“Ember—” he said, reaching out as if to stop me.

Desiree spun around to face me. “What are you doing here?” she said. I saw her hand twitch; I just knew she was visualizing slapping me.

I’d like to see her try.

Caden caught her as she began to move towards me. “Desiree, stop it,” he said, holding her back.

She ignored him. “You’ve ruined my life,” she said to me, her eyes pinched and angry.

Geez. I rubbed my forehead. Did I really have to do this right now? “Screw it.” I turned on my heel and left.

“Wai—” Caden’s voice muffled as the door swung shut behind him. This was my ten minutes, and damnit, I would do whatever I wanted to.

The sight of the two of them together didn’t bother me so much as the look in Desiree’s eyes. They were too hurt, too desperate. I had every right to be wary of her.

I walked down the hallway and took the stairs down to the lower level of the facility. I hadn’t fully explored all the floors, and now seemed like the perfect time to do so.

This level wasn’t set up for teleporters—I could tell by the chipped off-white paint covering exposed metal pipes. The air down here was cooler, and it pressed in on me.

I ran my fingers over the walls as I wandered the basement’s corridors. I heard a click and froze. Down the hallway in front of me, a door squeaked, and a staff member exited it. He didn’t so much as glance my way before he turned and headed in the opposite direction. I watched the door shut, catching a fleeting glimpse of a filing cabinet in the room.

As soon as the staff member turned the corner, I approached the door he left. Something about the glimpse inside the room looked familiar. As the staff member’s footfalls became fainter and fainter, I realized what it was.

It was the room I’d traveled to. The room that held the project’s disturbing secrets.

I tried the door. Locked. I checked the pockets of the nondescript blue jeans I wore, looking for something to open the door with. All that I found was a wadded up ball of paper that had fused together in the wash.

I shook my head. Details like this always confused me. I mean, these jeans would disappear, dematerialize, in a matter of minutes along with the wadded paper I conjured up.

I eyed the door again, a small smile blossoming on my face as an idea formed. The room beyond it contained some of the project’s darkest secrets. As soon as I got the chance, I’d make my way back here to find out the rest.

One of the most basic rules of survival: have a contingency plan or two. If Adrian wouldn’t help me, then I’d have to do this the hard way—by taking whatever evidence I could and running away.

So far I’d gathered that there were two ways to do so—by hitching a ride on a helicopter or cutting my way through the fence. And now that I’d found the room with the files, I had the evidence I needed to bring along with me.

Caden’s face flashed through my mind, and my smile melted away. I couldn’t leave him. Somewhere along the way, he’d become a part of me. I’d have to adjust my plans so that he’d come along with me, if he wanted to. I hoped he did.

It was time to call in those favors of Caden’s. It was time to form an escape plan.

The next morning, before our weapons class, Caden waited for me outside the facility’s main building. He leaned against the wall, his eyes glittering. The sunlight made his hair shine and his skin appear even tanner than usual.

I walked past him, making my way to the dirt trail. We were practicing our aim again at the shooting range.

“So that’s how’s it’s going to be, princess?”

I ignored him and picked up my pace.

He appeared next to me seconds later. “Someone jealous?” he said.

I pushed my legs harder to get us out of earshot. I didn’t want any casual listeners to hear what I was about to say.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said.

I glanced over my shoulder to make sure no one was right behind us. When I didn’t see anyone, I slammed Caden against a tree that bordered our trail. “Just shut up about Desiree for a minute, would you?”

He raised his eyebrows, his jaw working. It looked as though Caden was angry, though it probably had less to do with me pushing him than it did me ignoring him earlier.

“I’m cashing in on my question,” I said.

He hesitated, then nodded once, his temper draining away to something more solemn. At the back of his eyes I could see a spark of fear.

“Will you help me escape this place?”

He glanced up and down the trail before grabbing my arm and pulling me off the trail some distance. Only once we were a hundred or so feet from the trail did Caden speak. “Not that this would surprise you, but there are ears everywhere.”

“I don’t care. Answer the question.”

He exhaled, threading his hands together behind his head. “Yes,” he said, “I’ll help you escape, but I have a single condition.”

I waited.

“I’m coming with you.”

Chapter 28

“Good. I was hoping you’d say that.” I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him. His arms wrapped around me, and he pulled me up higher.

I hadn’t told him about my plans on exposing the government; that would be asking for too much. But he’d escape with me. That was more than enough.

When we finally broke apart, Caden said, “So I’m just going to venture a guess that the favor you want to cash in has something to do with planning our getaway?”

I nodded.

Caden glanced around again. “Let’s meet here Saturday morning at five.”

“Five o’clock—in the morning?” I hoped I heard him wrong.

Caden raised his eyebrows and folded his arms. “What, you thought planning our escape was going to be easy?”

I gave him a look. We both knew that I was more than willing to rough it—Caden was the one who’d seen all of my survival gear when he caught and cuffed me.

“We’re going to have to be extremely careful even talking about this,” he said. “The project doesn’t underestimate our resourcefulness, and they’re always on the lookout for teleporters thinking of defecting.”

“What happens to the teleporters who defect?” I asked.

Caden rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “I don’t know. Some disappear permanently. Others, only for a short while. But the ones that come back, you can see the fear in their eyes. They don’t talk about what happened to them, but whatever it was, it scared them into cooperating.”

I heard the pop of paintball guns beyond the obstacle course in front of us.

“You ready for this, princess?” Caden asked me nearly an hour later. He glanced down at me, the morning sunlight reflecting off of his tinted lenses. He held his gun at his side. Even though this was just training, he looked lethal.

We each wore vests, headgear, and protective glasses. In front of us the flat land of the shooting range had been turned into an obstacle course. Along the perimeter temporary walls had been erected and covered with black tarp. It prevented us from seeing what was inside, and once we were in there, it would prevent us from escaping until we’d made it to the end of the course.

“We’ll see,” I said. While I spoke, I stared at the tarp-covered entrance. The material fluttered and snapped in the breeze, hiding whatever lay beyond Caden and me.

“Remember, arms up and steady so the gun doesn’t droop,” Caden said. “Two hands on the gun. Keep your sight close to your eye so that you can aim and shoot as soon as you see a target. Lastly, knees bent when you walk—it will help you react faster.”

I nodded. Along with our sparring lessons, Caden and I had been working on my aim and my reflexes when it came to weapons—specifically guns. It had helped. Now I didn’t shy away from the cold metal weapon, I’d gotten comfortable pulling the trigger and used to the sound of a gun going off.

What I had to figure out now was how to be creative in a high stress environment, because inside the training course our classmates waited for us. Our job was to make it as far through the course as we could without getting a lethal hit on us, and our classmates’ only job was to take us out. Being predictable against smart assailants would get us killed.

Somewhere inside the obstacle course I heard our instructor blow a whistle three times, and the firing ceased. Now things sounded eerily quiet. I could hear my own breathing and the tug and snap of the tarp.

A minute later our instructor came out of the entrance, scribbling something down in his notes.

Once he was done, he glanced up. “You two ready?”

“Yeah,” we both said.

“’Kay, here’s the deal: There’s one entrance and one exit. Once you enter you cannot leave out the way you came. Your only way out is through the obstacle course.

“Twenty teleporters are hiding in there, and they will use every trick in the book to take you two out. Your job is to work together to systematically remove them before they do you.

“Lethal wounds are any shots that hit your head, chest or stomach. Anything else hit will not count.

“I’m timing you for ten minutes. If you can manage to stay alive for that long, I will count it as though you finished the obstacle course.”

Caden and I glanced at each other, and he gave me a slight nod. This would be how we stayed alive. Twenty assailants would take us out before we got to the end of the obstacle course. But staying alive for ten minutes? That, we were pros at.

“Just a warning you two: none of your classmates so far have managed either of those.”

We were the fourth group to go, so that wasn’t exactly making me quake in my boots, but it didn’t inspire much confidence.

Lieutenant  Newman grabbed a stopwatch. “You’ll begin on the count of three. Ready?”

We nodded.

“One …”

I brought my gun up.

“Two …”

My grip tightened and I shifted my weight to my left leg.

“Three.”

Caden and I burst through the tarp. I saw movement to my left, and I immediately fell into a crouch and pulled the trigger of my gun.

Blue paint hit my target in the chest, and he went down. I waited a beat, but no one else popped up.

Only now did I have time to notice that we stood inside a corridor, and from my quick initial glimpse, it appeared to have two exits—the one I faced and one at my back.

Behind me Caden’s gun went off. I couldn’t chance throwing a glance over my shoulder, but I suspected someone had tried to attack from the other side of the corridor.

“We need to get out of here,” I said. And fast. If the other teleporters decided to charge us, we’d be outnumbered.

“I have your back covered,” Caden said. “I’ll follow your lead.”

I learned from Caden that hesitation was lethal, but at his words I almost did just that. He trusted my skills. That’s essentially what his words meant, and that was a huge compliment coming from him.

I stood up, and keeping my knees bent, moved to the edge of the corridor. When I reached the end, I waited next to the wall and listened.

At first I heard nothing other than the flapping tarp. Then the scuff of a boot on sandy dirt. Someone was moving not far from us.

I got my trigger finger ready, breathed in and out once, and swiveled my body to face the obstacle course beyond.

Three shooters. That was all I had to time register before a paintball whizzed by, hitting the wall behind me. I crouched lower and pulled the trigger once, twice, three times. I managed to hit two targets in the chest.

Caden’s gun went off, and blue paint splattered against the third shooter’s chest.

I rose up as I took in the obstacle course. Piles of junk composed of large tires, old sparring equipment, and wooden crates offered the only cover. And unfortunately for us, our opponents were using many of them, making them harder to hit and forcing us to expose ourselves if we wanted to get to them for cover.

Two more shooters popped up from behind some of these piles.

Caden broke his own rule and took a hand off his gun to push me into a kneeling position as two paintballs came my way. He aimed and fired using only one hand, looking sexy as hell as he hit first one, then the other assailant.

He really wasn’t kidding when he said he’d spent the last five years training.

I spotted cover to my right, and I moved to it. I heard a shot go off, and a paintball hit my arm.

I bit back a very bad word. That was going to leave a welt. Behind me Caden shot the opponent who’d hit me.

We reached the cover, which consisted of two crates, and Caden did a sweep of the area we’d just come from.

“You okay?” he asked as he did so.

“Fine,” I managed. The shooter had given me a dead arm.

I saw a flicker of movement behind one of the obstacles we’d already passed, and Caden and I shot at it the same time. I missed; Caden didn’t. Paint splattered along the shooter’s helmet.

I leaned my head back against the crate and noticed that someone had strung up mirrors—probably hiding cameras—along the perimeter of the course. I could see two of them, one attached to the perimeter wall to our left and one to the right.

I nudged Caden and nodded to them. Their rounded surface allowed us to see the spread of most of the course. Together we watched them.

For a while nothing happened. Then one shooter moved and motioned to the others. I counted five altogether. And they were going to strike us at once.

I wondered if they knew we could see them. By the way they exposed themselves, I was guessing they didn’t.

Caden placed a hand across my chest, signaling for me to wait. When I glanced at him, he mouthed, On my count. He used his hands to indicate that I go left and he go right. Divide and conquer.

I nodded, and his gaze moved from me to the mirrors. He lifted his hand, holding up three fingers. I shifted my position to a crouch and watched the shooters approach. I’d take the two closest to me. I wouldn’t have a straight shot, which meant I’d have to pull a maneuver.

One of Caden’s fingers went down. Then another.

My muscles tensed. Caden’s last finger went down, and I stepped away from my cover and rolled, a technique I’d learned in close combat. I came up and shot off four paintballs—two for each assailant. One hit the first shooter in the chest, the rest missed.

I dove to the side as the unscathed shooter fired at me and cringed when a paintball hit my leg.

Jesus, I had to go on a mission in a couple of days. I healed fast, thanks to my ability, but these suckers were painful enough that I might still have a nasty bruise by the time my mission rolled around.

Clenching my teeth, I knelt, aimed, and fired three shots at the shooter. Two hit him in the chest and he went down.

I heard the whistle go off. “Time’s up,” our instructor said, walking into the obstacle course.

I blinked, the adrenaline still pumping through me. Caden took off his headgear and glasses and flashed me a wide grin. I dropped the paint gun and took off my own headgear.

The shooter closest to me high-fived me. “You were a beast,” he said.

“Thanks,” I said, dazed. I’d been so in the zone that it felt like I was waking from a dream.

“Congratulations to the first pair to stay alive for ten minutes,” our instructor said, and our classmates clapped on our behalf.

He glanced down at his clipboard. “Altogether you two took out fourteen opponents. Impressive by any standard.”

It was impressive, even for teleporters. The realization hit me square in the chest.

Here I was doing it again, showing off talents that I should try to hide. And now it was too late.

“You did amazing,” Caden said, coming over to me and grinning like a fool. When he saw my expression, his smile drained away.

He put a hand on my shoulder and leaned in. “Ember, you okay?” he asked, his voice low so that no one else would overhear him. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

I nodded, but I knew he could see the lie in my eyes.

Because the truth was, now that I’d demonstrated how good I already was with a gun, they’d begin to leverage that ability. That might mean more missions, more danger, and more violence.

Caden couldn’t possibly know just how accurate his words were; I had just seen a ghost. My own.

Early Friday morning I grabbed the early bird breakfast from the cafeteria and brought a steaming cup of coffee back to my room. Once I had nestled myself in front of my computer, I read over the plans for today’s mission and studied Jacque’s picture. I was to go in, empty the suitcase of the stolen gemstones, and hide them underneath the bed sheets. Then I needed to get myself caught. Easy.

After I began highlighting the floor plan, I heard the knock on my door.

I took a deep breath.

Here we go.

Chapter 29

I found myself in a luxury suite that overlooked the ocean. As expected, the room was abandoned. I took a moment to enjoy the salty sea air that blew into the room from the open sliding glass door before getting to work.

Okay, time to get to work. As I began walking, I felt metal brush against my thighs. I lifted the red dress I wore, absently noticing the timer on my wrist, and pulled out a small device that had been strapped to my leg. I flipped it over in my hand. It wasn’t a gun, that was for sure. I set it on a nearby table. Whatever it was, I didn’t have use for it yet.

My red dress swished around my ankles as I tore apart the room looking for the case that held the gems. The project really wasn’t kidding when they wanted me to be a distractor; the dress I wore would catch pretty much everyone’s attention.

I put my hands on my hips and gazed around the room. Not in the closet. Not in the mini safe. Not behind the curtains or below the table. Not underneath the desk.

Where would I hide a suitcase?

I snapped my fingers as the answer came to me. I just hoped Jacque Mainard thought the same way I did.

I glanced around at the bare floor before letting my eyes rove over the closet once more. Just above it was a long, squat cupboard.

I stood on my tiptoes to reach the handles and opened the cupboard doors.

His luggage had been shoved up here.

I yanked the bag down, grunting at how heavy it was, and unzipped it. Nestled inside was the case I was looking for. Personally, I would’ve covered the suitcase with a layer of panties and dirty clothing, but this guy was a little more tasteful.

I pulled the suitcase out of his luggage and set it on the bed. The thing had a combination lock on it four numbers long. Crap, no one had mentioned this.

My gaze moved back to the metal object I had set aside, an idea forming. I got up and snatched it from the counter and flipped the only switch on the device. A controlled flame blossomed from the open end of it making a quiet, hissing noise.

They’d given me a blowtorch. Idiots.

I grabbed the suitcase from the bed and moved it to the table. Before I began, I unhooked the metal clasps that held the case closed; it still didn’t open—it wouldn’t if it were locked. I needed those clasps intact for later.

Directing the flame towards the top of the case, I ran it over the seam, watching the way the material melted and peeled away. Something snapped and the lid of the suitcase popped open. I clicked the blowtorch off and used its metal end to push the lid all the way open.

I stared inside. Five dark silver stones glittered, cut similar to quartz crystals. I picked one up and examined it. They were almost identical to the stones in Dr. Sumner’s safe.

Alarm bells were going off in my head. Why did both men have these stones? And why did the government want them so badly? I stilled, wondering who was the lesser of two evils, Jacque or the government.

I clenched my fist around the stone, aware that I was probably being watched on some nifty camera another teleporter had installed. For now I had to trust the government. Not because I wanted to, but because I had to keep up pretenses until I escaped.

I removed the stones from the case and hid them underneath the bed sheets. Then I snapped the partially melted case closed and walked out the door.

Standing directly outside the room was a bodyguard. The man did a double take once he saw me.

I gave the guard a cordial smile and began to make my way down the hall.

He called out to me in French.

I paused and let him catch up to me. “Yes?” I said, reverting to the doe-eyed act I’d used so many times over the years.

He eyed me up and down and frowned. “Why were you in there—you should not have been in there,” he said in a thick accent.

I knew Caden would show up inside the room at any minute, and it was important that I get out of the hallway and off the floor with this guard, so that Caden could deliver the gemstones.

I began walking.

“Mademoiselle, you cannot walk away.”

“Didn’t Jacque inform you that I was in there?”

“No,” he said matching my strides. For all his threats, the guard wasn’t stopping me.

“Well, I was.”

The guard glanced back at the now unattended room, before giving me a questioning look. His eyes drifted down to the suitcase I carried, and he became suspicious all over again.

“I have to call this in,” he said.

“Fine, but I’m on my way to see Jacque right now.”

He paused, looking indecisive. He seemed to be having trouble figuring out the correct course of action. I hadn’t acted like a criminal would, but I had Jacque’s suitcase and I’d been in the room.

Finally, the guard said, “I’ll escort you to him.” He took hold of my upper arm and led me to the bank of elevators. He hit the down button, the doors slid open, and together we entered the elevator.

I watched the light blink down from level to level until the elevator dinged and the doors slid open on the ground floor.

People buzzed around the lobby, congregating in clusters. The guard took my arm again and pulled us forward. We maneuvered our way through the crowded lobby and entered an expansive conference room filled with people.

I immediately recognized Jacque from the picture the facility had emailed me; he had snow white hair, a trim beard, and wire-rimmed glasses. And at the moment he stood up at the podium giving a presentation to the packed room.

The door echoed shut behind us, echoing throughout the large auditorium, and Jacque paused. He looked from the guard, to me, to the suitcase. When his eyes landed on the suitcase, they widened.

I realized then the flaw in my plan. If they caught me now, they’d open the suitcase and see it was empty. At that point they’d know I was a distraction. That might not give Caden enough time.

Which meant that I was going to have to wreak havoc on this nice conference.

I slammed my stiletto down on the guard’s foot, not caring that I now had the audience’s attention. He screamed, and I used the opportunity to slam my elbow into his throat. The force cut off his air supply and he loosened his grip.

I yanked my hand free and ran. Behind me, chairs clattered and shouts rang out.

The seams running up the sides of my gown ripped as I moved, allowing me to lengthen my stride and flash some leg. Behind the front desk of the lobby, alarmed staff watched me streak across the room. The way the floor plan was set up, I had two options: turn left past the lobby to access the beach, or turn right and exit the front doors.

Lounging tourists were preferable to the security that undoubtedly waited outside the main entrance, so I turned left and ran past the front desk.

Through the doors ahead of me I could see the beautiful Mediterranean Sea. Lucky me, I’d get to sink my toes into the soft sand before I went back.

“Ember?” My steps faltered when I heard the familiar voice.

I glanced behind me and saw Adrian exiting a room marked Internet Lounge. His eyes were wide at the sight of me, and briefly they flickered over my exposed thighs.

Why was he here? What was going on?

“What are you doing?” he asked. His eyes moved to the suitcase I held and his eyes widenened. He glanced back up at me, realization hardening his features. “I can’t let you go.”

Behind him I heard a series of shouts, and I backed away. The more I let this situation seep through my bones, the more uneasy I felt.

“Ember, we’re the good guys here,” he said, taking a step forward. “We’re trying to help you.”

“We?” I said. “Since when was it ever more than you?” I read his expression, and the truth dawned on me. “I’m so naïve. You have been lying to me to save your own skin.”

“Ember, no,” Adrian said. “It’s not like that.”

“Then what is it like?”

Adrian took a step closer and lowered his voice. “I can tell you if you’ll let me. But you have to put the briefcase down first.”

“Uh huh.” Because I was that dumb.

“Please Ember.” He begged me with his eyes.

A guard at the far end of the lobby pointed at me, and the group of them began running in my direction.

“Maybe some other time Adrian.” I turned and bolted. The glass doors of the hotel swung open as I burst through the lobby’s back entrance. Soft pearly sand beckoned me, and beyond it, the ocean. To my right a wooden pier jutted out into the sea.

I made a beeline for it.

Behind me I could hear several footfalls. One in particular was closer than the others, and it was closing in fast.

I kicked off my heels when I reached the wooden pier, and I winced as I collected splinters from the rotted wood.

I threw a glance over my shoulder. Adrian had almost caught up with me. In a mad rush I flicked open the metal latches that held the suitcase shut, and once open, I tossed it into the water. That way, those who were after me might be fooled into thinking that the stones were lost in the ocean.

“No!” The shout came from far behind me. Back on the beach Jacque stared, horrified, at the suitcase. Then he ran like mad into the waves and waded towards it.

“Were those … the stones?” Adrian asked, his voice hushed.

I didn’t say anything.

“Ember, those weren’t just any stones. They were lodestones, and they were going to save you.” That unsettling feeling reared its ugly head. Lodestones. Weren’t those magnetized stones?

“How can a stone save me?” I asked.

He rubbed his eyes. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

I understood that statement perfectly. There was no happy ending for me. I’d already figured that out. I wasn’t going to let myself get upset now that Adrian hinted that he could’ve saved me. It was too little too late.

The hotel’s security caught up to me and grabbed my wrists, cuffing them behind my back. All the while I never took my eyes off Adrian.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

Out of everything he could’ve said, that statement surprised me the most.

“Why?” I asked, as security began to drag me away.

“Because you are just a pawn. And a pawn can’t help but get played.”

Chapter 30

Dane Richards gave me a hearty slap on the back. “Great job Pierce,” he said as I entered the facility’s conference room late that same afternoon. “Considering your lack of experience, you are proving to be an outstanding asset.”

“Thanks,” I said unenthusiastically, ignoring the barb in his compliment. I didn’t think I could take a whole hour of him, debriefing or not.

Caden sauntered in behind me.

“Hawthorne!” Richards said. “There’s my other star of the day. You and Pierce make a great team. We’ll have to schedule you both in on more missions.”

His words sent shivers up my arm, and then I reminded myself that I didn’t care. Perhaps I’d wake up tomorrow with a bit more fight in me, but today, today the world had gotten the best of me.

The debriefing lasted for an hour or so. Like last time, Debbie showed up and the group—which also included four teleporters who set up cameras throughout the hotel—discussed our thoughts and feelings on the mission.

Once it was all over, I left the room with Caden.

I shoved my hands in my pockets and studied the cheap linoleum floors as we walked down the hall. The only sound was the slap of our shoes against the linoleum.

“You okay?” he asked.

I blinked a few times and glanced up at him. I’d been zoning out, still mulling over the mission. “It’s nothing.”

“I don’t think so,” he said. He cupped my jaw with his hand so he could stare into my eyes. “Nope. Something is definitely up.”

Gently I brushed his hand away. How could I handle telling him about what happened on the mission? I wasn’t sure I even understood it myself.

“Do you ever feel like your perception of reality is so distorted that you wouldn’t be able to see the truth if it were right in front of you?” I asked.

Caden’s brow wrinkled and he slid an arm around my waist. “Want to talk about it?”

I eyed the hallway. “Not here.”

I stayed silent until Caden and I had climbed far into the woods beyond the facility.

“Okay, spill,” Caden said.

I threaded my hands behind my head and exhaled. “I saw Adrian on our mission.”

Caden frowned. “Why didn’t you mention it to Richards?”

His question reminded me that while he had agreed to escape with me, I hadn’t convinced him that the project itself was corrupt.

I turned to Caden. “That’s not the point.”

He stepped towards me, the leaves crunching under his feet. “Then what is it?”

“Those stones we retrieved? Apparently they have something to do with us.”

Caden’s expression remained blank, which I took to be a bad sign.

I dropped my hands back to my sides. “Adrian said they were supposed to help us.”

“Ember.”

This was another one of those times where I wished I couldn’t read people so well. Because I knew Caden thought Adrian was a fugitive, trying to deceive me to avoid capture. And I was the sucker who fell for his deception. It was a good theory, especially when I factored in the lodestones and the information that Adrian had kept from me.

The only problem with that theory was that I knew it wasn’t true. Every expression Adrian made, the very real devastation on his face, it couldn’t have been faked. Not to mention that his father had similar stones locked away in his safe; they had to have something to do with us, regardless of how implausible that seemed.

I squeezed my eyes shut. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you.”

Even with my eyes closed, I could feel Caden’s warmth as he came closer. “Ember,” he said softly, “I am so glad you did. Now please open your eyes.”

I did, and Caden’s face was so full of understanding that I almost staggered back.

“I thought you didn’t believe me,” I said.

“I believe you completely,” he said. “It’s him I don’t trust.”

His form blurred as tears obscured my vision, and he kissed them away.

That was the best I was going to get from Caden.

Late that night, I grabbed my license and a sweatshirt from my room and headed for the door.

I gave my room a brief sweep with my eyes. Unlike Caden’s, which was so full of life, my room held only those few knick-knacks my parents had packed for me. The walls were empty of pictures, the mounted shelves only sparsely decorated. The only thing in this room even remotely full was my dresser. Anyone could tell that I wasn’t making myself too comfortable here. I wondered what Caden thought of that, and if anyone else took notice.

I shut the door behind me. It was 2:00 a.m., and the halls were deserted. I knew that there were night patrols, but they mostly watched the perimeter. I mean, the facility couldn’t really stop us from coming and going—it was in our nature—so the best they could do was make sure that no unauthorized persons entered, and no teleporters permanently left the property.

Once I entered the stairwell, I descended the cement stairs and quietly exited when I reached the basement. Flourescent lights stuttered on as I moved down the hall. The last time I was here, they’d been on; I hadn’t realized they’d been triggered by motion detectors. I filed that information away and kept walking.

When I got to the room I was looking for, I slid the card into the crack between the door and the wall and pulled.

Nothing happened.

I’d done this a dozen times before; this should work.

The hair on the back of my neck stood up. I whipped around and glanced down the hallway. No one was there. The feeling, however, only increased the longer I stood down here.

I tried again, and again, nothing. Frustrated, I tried jiggling the card back and forth. I heard a click, and the door swung open with a creak.

I glanced up and down the basement hallway one more time, and when no one showed up, I entered the room.

I clicked the light on inside and placed my sweatshirt along the bottom of the door so that the light wouldn’t seep out into the hallway.

After giving the office a onceover, I decided to grab the key that had unlocked the filing cabinet. The two drawers I’d already seen had plenty of evidence I could carry on my person once Caden and I escaped. But I still had two more drawers to go. Chances were I’d find a few more surprises in there.

I unlocked the file cabinet’s top drawer and stood on my tiptoes to reach in and pull out a couple of files. I laid them down next to the computer and pulled up my chair.

I opened the first folder and stared at columns of numbers. From the looks of it, I’d found the project’s expense reports. I scanned the numbers. From what I could see, the Prometheus Project was a money pit, yet the project continued to be well funded year after year. Either we were worth it, or this was an example of the country’s famed bureaucratic inertia.

I read over several more pages of expenses. I found nothing of importance. That was, until I moved onto the second file I’d pulled from the same drawer.

The numbers in this report were even larger than the last, and as I skimmed over what the expenses were for, my blood chilled.

A hefty sum of money was going into the construction of a new facility for teleporters, this one located in Montana.

Montana. I’d teleported to an empty house weeks ago located in Montana. Had the government guided me there?

Behind this expense report, someone had shoved images of floor plans. I saw a gym, a hospital wing, classrooms—nothing really all that surprising—until I saw a separate building marked “Pair Family Housing.”

I rubbed my forehead as it began to pound.

The units drawn looked like two story homes, and they were arranged around the main buildings of this facility. From what I could see of the houses’ interior layouts, they were arranged exactly like the one I’d been in.

My eyes roved over the floor plans of the main facility again. Only now did I notice the child care facility, and the playground that had been included in the plans.

I backtracked a few pages until I found the estimated date of completion.

I sucked in a breath. According to this file, the Montana facility should’ve been completed three years ago, which meant that the facility might actually be up and running now.

The house I’d visited had been empty, but that didn’t mean the other houses were.

My heart beat faster and faster. I hadn’t heard of any teleporters in their twenties—and I knew from the files I’d flipped through that there should be some that age. Maybe that wasn’t because they’d died off. Maybe they moved facilities. Facilities that made accommodations for families—for children.

I might’ve just figured out what happened to older teleporters.

I had just placed the files back in the drawer when I heard the squeak of shoes against the linoleum. I froze.

The sound grew louder. Someone was approaching, and quick. Frantically I glanced around the room. The overhead light was still on, the key was on the desk, and the top drawer was still wide open.

I slid the drawer closed, wincing from the sound of metal hitting metal. The footsteps paused, and I held my breath.

They picked up again, now faster than before. I ran to the door. I flipped off the light, grabbed my sweatshirt, and backtracked to the desk. My hip banged against the corner of it in the absolute dark. I bit down on my lip to muffle the curse on the tip of my tongue.

I rounded the desk and slid under it as someone inserted a key into the doorknob. I heard the key turn and the click of metal as the door unlocked.

The door squeaked open and the mystery person took two steps inside, flicking back on the lights.

I shoved my sweatshirt inside my mouth to muffle the sound of my breathing. My back leaned against the wood paneling that covered the front of the desk. That was the only thing that hid me from whoever stood at the doorway.

The pause seemed to last an eternity, then the footfalls started up again, moving further into the room. My heart beat twice for every click they made against the tile, and it ceased up with every silence that followed. Whoever this was, they were trying to kill me slowly.

The footfalls stopped just short of the desk.

The key. Oh no, the key. I’d forgotten to grab it when I hid.

I heard it slide against the surface of the desk as the person picked it up. The footsteps moved away from the desk. I heard a drawer open and close, and then the person came back to the desk.

The key clinked as it hit the surface of the desk, and the footfalls moved quickly away from me. The light flicked off, the door opened, and a few seconds later it clicked close.

When the sound of footsteps faded away down the hall, I sucked in air. I’d gotten so lucky.

I sat in the darkness for an agonizing twenty minutes before I crawled out of my hiding place. With trembling hands I re-opened the drawers, took out the files of an expired teleporter and a pregnant one, and slipped out of the room.

That was too close.

I returned to my room, my mind whirring away at the new information I’d discovered. On the walk back from the room, an idea had been forming.

An alternate route of escape.

The facility in Montana had given me the idea. I hadn’t been let out of this facility since I arrived; however, if Caden and I were to be transferred to the facility in Montana, we might get the chance to escape en route. It’d be a whole lot easier to flee that way than it would trying to hitch a ride on a helicopter or cutting a hole in the facility’s chain link fence and slipping by the guards and cameras undetected.

Now I just had to figure out what criteria the project would need to consider moving Caden and me.

I changed into my pajamas, turned off my lights, and slipped into bed.

I could already tell planning this would be tricky. If Caden and I managed to convince the project to move us, then we’d have to have a plan formulated—money, transportation, a survival pack in case we had to live off the grid. A smile began to form along my lips at the thought. Escape. Freedom. Anonymity.

We could do it; it was what we were good at—vanishing.

Chapter 31

I rubbed my hands together, my breath misting in the predawn light. It was almost 5:00 a.m. Saturday morning, and I waited in the middle of the woods just off the trail to meet with Caden.

I rubbed my eyes and yawned. It was way too early to be scheming.

“You know, you’re awfully cute when you’re sleepy.”

I jolted at the voice, and a hand covered my mouth just as I let out a shocked yelp.

“Can’t have you blowing our cover now, princess,” Caden whispered into my ear, his voice low. The sound of it made me shiver. His body pressed into mine, and my thoughts turned carnal.

I stepped away from him, mostly to keep my hormones in check. “Then try not to scare the crap out of me,” I said.

He stepped towards me, invading my personal space, and his dimples flashed. “Chicken.”

“Creep.”

“Creep? That’s not what you called me last night.”

My face flushed at his words. “How did you manage to sneak up on me?”

A sly smile bloomed along his face. “You’re going to have to win that information off of me.” He folded his arms and leaned against a tree, giving me a long, slow look just to let me know exactly what would happen if I lost.

The look brought goose bumps to my skin. I rubbed my eyes with my thumb and forefinger, trying to focus on the subject of escape and not on how I wanted to slowly undress the man in front of me.

I removed my hand from my face, remembering the file I looked through even earlier this morning. “What do you know of the Montana facility?”

Caden hadn’t been moving, but now he stilled completely. Finally, he cocked his head and raised his eyebrows. Unlike his other features, his eyes held more than just surprise; there was curiosity there as well. He was trying to figure me out. “Reconsidering escape?” he finally said.

“No, just our method.”

His eyes grew distant, presumably to think over my words, and then he blinked and refocused on me. “That’s actually not a bad idea at all—escaping on our way to the Montana facility.” He rubbed his chin. “We’d have to steal one of their cars and make a beeline for Mexico.”

“I know.”

“And they’ll undoubtedly warn the border patrol about the stolen government car and our appearance.”

“If we need another car, we can just steal one. I know how to hotwire older models.”

His eyebrows rose, his dimples making an appearance. “You know how to do that?” Caden didn’t even try to hide how impressed he was.

I nodded. It was just another survival skill I’d learned.

Caden whistled low. “Damn, that’s a turn-on.”

I had the strangest urge to laugh. Instead I just shrugged.

“Humble doesn’t really suit you well, princess,” he said. “I can see right through it.”

Now I did smile.

Caden continued. “We’d need disguises, survival equipment, and money.”

I crossed my arms. “Done, done, and done.”

Caden’s eyebrows nudged up further. “Oh really, you have that all covered?”

I held up three fingers. “I have survival equipment in my room—so, check.” I brought a finger down. “Disguises we can easily buy, so check that off your list too.” I brought another finger down. “And lastly, we’re a fucking distract and extract team; we could become millionaires at pickpocketing. So check.” Not that I liked the thought of stealing anything. People were entitled to their well-earned money. But if it came down to it, I’d steal. I was also entitled to my freedom.

A spark of excitement lit Caden’s eyes, but beneath it was some residual hesitation. He didn’t want to leave this life, he didn’t want to lose his friends, and he sure as hell didn’t want to betray the facility’s trust.

“You don’t have to come with me,” I said softly.

He closed the distance between the two of us and ran a hand along my neck, his thumb rubbing the edge of my jaw. “Just shut up.”

“I was just giving you—”

“You think I hadn’t known what that favor of yours was going to be since you first won it? I’ve had a long time to decide on this. I’m coming with you.”

His lips descended on mine, and my heart thumped in my chest. The way he kissed me left no doubt in my mind that he’d stay by my side come hell or high water.

He pulled away. “I think the facility in Montana is a good idea. But—” he paused, watching me, “they only send teleporters who want to be domesticated.”

“Domesticated?” I said, raising my eyebrows.

“As in, making and raising lots and lots of babies.”

I felt my face redden.

“Yeah, that’s how I thought you’d react,” he said, “and that’s not going to convince anyone here that you want to move to the Montana facility.”

I wasn’t going to argue that one with him.

“So,” he continued, “I’ll take care of the convincing. They’ll probably still want to talk to you before they finalize their decision, so work on what you’re going to say—and try to stick to the truth where possible. They’ll try to trip you up. If this idea doesn’t go anywhere, then we’ll have to plan an escape from this facility.”

I nodded. I could do that.

He glanced at the lightening sky. “Let’s meet here a week from tomorrow—same time. Until then, I’ll begin convincing the project directors to consider this,” he continued. “You, meanwhile, should try to figure out some of the logistics of our escape.”

“Done.”

Caden backed away from me. As he did so, I remembered what he told me of the teleporters who tried to defect. We were going to have to execute our escape perfectly, because we had one chance and one chance only.

That Monday I walked into the gym. I took one look at the equipment sitting next to the ring and suppressed a groan. Sparring. Even though I’d gotten better at it, I didn’t feel confident enough to perform well with an audience.

My classmates had already started to pair off.

I turned to look for Caden and watched as he walked in right after I did. I couldn’t help but notice the way his T-shirt hugged his sculpted chest and upper arms. My eyes ran up his torso before they met his gaze. His eyes twinkled; he’d caught me checking him out.

“Can’t get enough of me, can you?” Caden said, coming up to me. He didn’t wait for me to answer. Instead he cupped my face and kissed me.

When he pulled away, he smiled, his dimples coming out. “Want to practice a little before you begin?”

“Definitely.” The thought of sparring with someone other than him made me anxious; I wanted the moves fresh in my mind.

For the next half hour we warmed up together. As I dipped and lunged, evading and attacking Caden, I couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of power. I’d become formidable over the course of only a few weeks. Now I not only knew how to survive, I knew how to fight.

“Pierce!” My head snapped up when Coach Painter called my name. He had a sly smile on his face. “Why don’t we pair you with Payne again?” That sneaky bastard.

I wiped the sheen of sweat on my forehead with the back of my hand. My muscles felt loose and warm. I was ready to do this.

Caden grabbed my wrist, his eyes trained on mine. “Remember all you’ve learned. Don’t underestimate your opponent, remember your own inner strength, and let your body follow your brain,” he said.

I nodded.

“I’ll be rooting for you from the sidelines.” He loosened his hold and let my fingers slide through his.

I pulled away from him and approached the ring, where Desiree waited. Her eyes had a hard, angry look to them, but her mouth curved up. She thought this would be her opportunity to cut me in two. That, more than anything, fueled my determination to do well.

Coach Painter handed me the foam helmet and gloves. Like last time, Desiree wrapped her hands before she put her gloves on. This time I didn’t let it get to me.

We walked into the ring and tapped gloves. I watched her shift her weight back and forth, her arms held in front of her. Her left hand was held a little low. I couldn’t tell if the opening was intentional or not. Only one way to find out.

Coach blew the whistle, and I didn’t hesitate. I moved into Desiree’s space and slammed my fist into the exposed section of her torso. She blocked it, and I used her block to deliver a punch low to her stomach, this time not worrying about whether I hurt her or not. I knew she wouldn’t hold back if given the chance.

I connected with the soft tissue of her stomach. The hit wasn’t hard, but she stumbled back and leaned over herself protectively. I followed her and delivered three more punches, all which she blocked.

“Bitch,” I heard her say under her breath. Her anger glittered in her eyes, and I barely had enough time to lift my arms when she slammed her fist at my face. My arms blocked the blow, but she threw so much force into it that I staggered back before I regained my footing.

The coach blew the whistle. “Payne, that’s a foul.”

She ignored our coach and advanced on me. Her arms were held high, exposing her lower stomach. I aimed low and hit her just below her solar plexus. Just as I did so, her fist smashed into my cheek. My head snapped back and I stumbled.

Coach Painter blew the whistle again. “Payne! Back off of Pierce.”

Ignoring him again, Payne began raining punches down on me, all aimed at my head. The attack forced me to cover my face rather than try to hit her back.

“Goddamnit Payne, stop!” Coach yelled.

Her anger fueled my own. She was too busy seeing red to think strategically. So I brought my leg up and kicked her square in the chest. The impact flung her back, and she hit the mat.

Coach was blowing the whistle like crazy. “Pierce, that’s enough. Payne, you’re disqualified.”

Desiree’s gaze shot to Coach Painter. “Coach, no,” she pleaded.

Coach shook his head, his hands propped on his waist. “You know the rules Payne. Now go practice your technique for the rest of the class, or get the hell out of here.”

I glanced at Caden, who stood on the outskirts of the ring, arms folded. His jaw was set hard, like the fight had been difficult for him to watch, but his eyes looked proud. We both knew I’d been the better fighter that round; I laid more accurate blows and managed to contain my emotions.

Carefully Desiree pushed herself to her feet and took off her helmet. She flashed me a parting glance, and what I saw in her eyes made my skin feel clammy. The hot anger I’d seen just moments ago was gone, replaced by something far more sinister. Her expression was cold and calculating.

I needed to start locking my door starting immediately, because in Desiree’s eyes was a promise—a promise that she would come for me and finish what she started.

Chapter 32

Two days later I worked on my weaponry homework with Caden in one of the several study halls when Dane Richards approached our table.

“Hey Boss,” Caden said.

Dane ignored him. “Pierce, we need to talk.” His flinty eyes were trained on me.

I gave Caden a concerned look, and a crease formed between Caden’s brows. I tried not to panic when I saw the distress in his eyes.

“Sure,” I said.

With a final glance at Caden, I followed Dane Richards out of the study hall. The walk to Dane’s office was long and awkward. The silence felt like it would suffocate me.

When we finally arrived and I sat down in a guest chair, Dane still hadn’t told me why he wanted to see me.

He slid into his seat and rolled his chair forward. He placed his palms on the desk and trained his intense stare on me.

“How do you know Adrian Sumner?” he asked me.

My heart stuttered. “I’m sorry, what?”

Should I lie? Tell the truth? How could I protect us both?

“Adrian Sumner.” Dane Richards slid a black and white photo towards me. My breath caught. The photo was of me standing on the pier. Adrian stood in front of me. Adrian was looking over his shoulder, gazing at the same something I was. Jacque, when he ran after the suitcase.

“You do know him, don’t you?” he asked, his inquisitive eyes trained on me.

I realized in the silence that followed that what I said would matter. If I lied, the truth would come out eventually, and if I told the truth, Adrian would likely be captured.

I focused on my breathing. In and out. I was already a prisoner here, working for the government, so not much more could happen to me, other than death—and that was already my reality every time I went on a mission.

I wasn’t sure where exactly things stood with me and Adrian—and I didn’t exactly trust him—but if he told the truth, he was trying to help teleporters like me. And if he lied to me, he was still the enemy of my enemy. That counted for something.

Inside I was a mess of nerves, but that anxiety never showed up on my skin.

“No,” I said. “I don’t know him.” I gave Richards an annoyed look, just to convince him further.

He tapped the photo with his index finger. “But you’re talking to him here.

“Yeah,” I said, keeping my tone annoyed. “He was trying to talk me down. And once I threw the suitcase in the water, he was trying to make me feel guilty.”

Richards raised his eyebrows. He didn’t believe me. I tried my best to keep calm while he shuffled through some paper on his desk. I knew his actions were for my benefit. He wanted me to squirm.

From the papers in his hand he pulled out another and slid it my way.

Shit.

It was the article about Adrian Sumner that I’d looked up on the Internet. “This article was Googled from your computer.” Richards narrowed his eyes. “The date preceded your mission.”

Caught. I’d been caught.

How could I have been so stupid? Of course the facility monitored the sites teleporters went to.

I opened my mouth, but Richards held up his hand. “Don’t bother Pierce. I went through the entire list of links, so I know how one led to the next.”

Dane pulled out another photo from the stack. It was a grainy photograph of me flipping through a file in that basement office. In the background I could see my sweatshirt pressed against the foot of the door, which meant the photo was taken during my last visit there.

“You have two files in your possession that you took from this room. From your actions, I can only assume you were holding them to use in the future as blackmail.”

I’d been sloppy. So, so sloppy. Just like Caden had told me recently, the facility was looking for defiant behavior. And I’d underestimated them. Now I had to wonder just how long they were watching me. And whether that office was just an elaborate set up—another simulation they wanted to see my reaction to.

The sick feeling in my stomach told me that it was. And I’d fallen for it.

Richards rubbed the skin around his mouth. “What I don’t understand is the extent of what you know.”

The hairs on my arm lifted.

His stared at me, unblinking. “But at this point, it doesn’t matter,” he said. “You’ve proven yourself to be cunning, secretive, selfish, and most of all, dishonest.”

I didn’t move, didn’t allow my face to give away the screaming inside my head, the pounding of my heart, or the clammy sweat that formed in the creases of my fingers.

Richards leaned forward even more. “You also gave away your one weakness.” He slid forward another photo, this was grainy, but I could still make out the tangle of naked limbs and my tattoo. From the looks of it, it was taken the last time Caden and I visited the lake.

Nausea rose at the thought that someone had watched us, photographed us.

“It’s a physical relationship, nothing more,” I lied.

He shook his head. “I have access to Debbie’s reports and her recordings of each session she holds. I know with certainty that your ‘physical relationship’ is far more than that.”

Richard’s brow furrowed as he stared at the photograph. His eyes flicked up to me. “He’s too good for you.” His voice was softer, gruffer than it had been.

Richards hadn’t figured out that Caden was helping me. If he knew, his tone would be different. Relief flooded through my veins. Caden hadn’t been sucked into this. Thank God.

“He is,” I agreed.

The lines on Dane Richard’s face deepened with his disapproval. “We’re at an impasse,” Dane said. “You are too valuable for us to lose, but too deviant to be reliable.”

My heart slammed in my chest. “So what happens now?” I asked. I didn’t want to know the answer to this question.

“Oh, there are plenty of things that could happen,” he said, frowning at my reaction. “But for now, nothing.” Dane’s words did nothing to reassure me.

“Can I go then?”

Richards watched me for a beat. Then he nodded once. “You’re excused.”

I placed my hands on Richard’s desk as I stood up to hide the way they trembled.

When I reached for the door, his voice cut through the silence. “Oh, and Ember?”

I looked at him over my shoulder.

“You better learn to love the project and its objectives real quick. I wouldn’t want to break Caden’s heart by making you disappear.”

Chapter 33

I moved down the hall without really seeing my surroundings. My hands shook. I was in shock, but even now, it was melting way, replaced by a fear that was eating me from the inside out.

I was a dead woman walking.

“Ember!” Caden called from behind me. He must’ve waited outside the office. I hadn’t even noticed.

I pinched my eyes shut. All I wanted was to be alone.

He grabbed my upper arm and spun me around to face him. “What is it?”

I pulled my arm away from his grip and kept walking. God, I didn’t want to tell him.

I wouldn’t look at him. I didn’t want to see whatever lay in his eyes.

“Fuck, Ember,” he said, “what the hell did you two talk about?”

I shook my head and headed for the doors leading outside.

Once outside, I began to run, pushing my legs hard uphill until the physical pain drowned out my thoughts and my rising fear. Caden ran next to me, still not speaking. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw his brows furrow, but he didn’t stop me. He knew that if he wanted to hear anything I had to say, we’d have to get out of earshot. To be honest, I didn’t know if even that was good enough.

I welcomed the icy air that burned down my lungs and the wild smell of the forest. If there was ever a time I wanted to be one with the earth, now was it.

We ran several minutes in silence until I’d worked off my adrenaline and my pace began to slow. I’d burned off my mood with sheer exertion. I slowed to a stop somewhere in the middle of the woods and leaned on my knees.

Caden stopped next to me. “Ember you’re scaring the shit out of me. Please, tell me what’s going on.”

I took a deep breath. “Richards knows that I know Adrian.”

Caden’s eyes widened, wary. “And?” he said. “That doesn’t prove anything in and of itself.”

I breathed in, the cool evening air sharp against my lungs. “I lied to him. I told him I didn’t know who Adrian was. Only then did Dane reveal the webpages I’d looked at—pages I’d looked at before the mission.”

Caden cursed.

“Also, I broke into a room in this facility, read files I wasn’t supposed to read, and took two of them back to my room. They have footage of me doing so.”

Caden’s eyebrows inched up. “You did all that? Why didn’t you tell me?”

I gave him a look. “I didn’t want to involve you.” And you wouldn’t approve.

His jaw tightened and his eyes looked angry. “Ember, I’m putting my entire life on the line for you. This only works if it goes both ways.”

I swallowed. This was how I loved others. If I kept them uninformed, then the cyclone that was my life might not touch them. To let Caden in on my plans to commit treason would make him just as guilty as me. I wanted to make his life better, not worse.

He watched my expression flicker, and the blood drained from his face. “You stole two files … What—what are you planning, Ember?” His voice shook. I didn’t know how he did that; how he sometimes saw past everything I put out into the world.

“Nothing.”

He stepped in close. “Don’t lie to me Ember.” This close to me, I could see all the colors in Caden’s eyes—blue, green, yellow, and gray. He had the most beautiful eyes I’d ever seen, and they looked so pained as they watched me.

I blinked back the moisture from my own. “I’m not—at the moment there is nothing to plan.” All my grand plans had crumbled now that I was being watched. I needed to be on my best behavior if I wanted to survive. But even that might not be enough.

Caden closed the space between us and cupped the sides of my face with his hands. The look he gave me was deep and loving.

My throat worked and I glanced away. He hadn’t figured it out. That I might disappear. And I wasn’t sure I had the heart to voice this very real concern of mine.

Gently he tilted my head so that I was forced to look at him. I knew what he’d see in my eyes. Worry. Guilt. Weakness. Vulnerability.

Without taking his gaze off of me, his slid his hand down my arm. Once his fingers touched my palm, he brought my hand to his heart. Beneath the thin fabric of his shirt I felt the strong beat of it.

“This is yours,” he said, pressing my hand more tightly to his chest. “And I don’t give it lightly.”

The look he gave bared his soul. “I love all of you Ember—the ferocious, beautiful girl I first laid eyes on, the fiery girl who punched me in the face when I threw off her sheets, the penitent girl I found curled up in the shower, the curious girl who questioned a wanted man’s guilt, the brave girl who pushed me down when she saw a gun, and the secretive girl who thinks she needs to carry the world on her shoulders.

“Ember, the bad comes in with the good. And I want all of it—I want your secrets, your worry, your pain. I love you—you’re not alone in this life.”

Quiet tears trickled down my face, and then I pulled him to me.

His cheek rubbed against mine. “Promise me you won’t forget that,” he whispered against my skin.

I cried harder at his words. He was turning the knife in my heart further. I wasn’t worried about being alone; I was worried about getting killed and leaving the man in front of me alone.

“Promise,” he repeated.

I brushed a kiss across his cheek. My salty tears mingled with the taste of his skin. “I promise.”

I felt a part of me break as I spoke the words. Yet something had also been lifted from my shoulders. Caden loved all of me—every screwed up, scarred piece of me. And in that realization was its own kind of freedom.

The next evening I went over the mission with Caden. Well, correction: Caden sat at his desk, going over the mission. I lay on the floor of his room, flipping through my weaponry book.

When I woke up in bed this morning, still alive and healthy, I wondered if my talk with Dane Richards wasn’t as bad as I assumed it was. My day went exactly like all others—classes and training. Nothing unusual had happened, and the project was still sending me on this mission.

I glanced over at Caden, whose eyes moved across his laptop screen. He still had no idea how precariously I clung to my life here. Why worry him unnecessarily?

“We’re going in at the same time, but in separate locations,” Caden said, flipping through his email message on the mission.

This was part two of our drug lord distract-and-extract mission. Only tonight, instead of showing up at a museum in Mexico City, I was going to Emilio Santoro’s estate in Columbia, where I’d distract him once more.

“Unfortunately, unless the evening gets violent, I’ll only be placing a mike on him,” Caden said. He actually looked bummed that he wouldn’t get to pound anyone’s face in to extract information. “And I’m sure you’ll do more than enough to distract him from that, Angela.”

I cringed. My fake identity. I’d spent all week memorizing it. If I went over it one more time I knew I’d confuse my facts. Which was precisely why I was distracting myself with my weaponry textbook instead of cramming.

“You’ll be careful, right?” Caden’s voice was gruff.

I looked up from my work. Caden’s troubled expression made my own heart rate increase.

I closed my book and set it aside. “Of course I’ll be careful—I promise.”

He nodded to himself, his eyes unfocusing. “The thought of losing you …” He trailed off.

His eyes refocused, honing in on me. “I thought having a partner would be the best thing in the world,” he said, leaning back against his chair. “Someone you were close with, someone who had your back and you had theirs—that’s pretty appealing to a boy whose family abandoned him.”

I swallowed, not sure where he was going with this.

“Then this happened,” he moved his hand between the two of us, “and it was better than the sweetest dream.” His smile was wistful, but it faded quickly.

“I never listened to those who told me about the dark side of loving your pair. The jealousy you feel when you see another man touch them. The sheer terror that locks up your limbs every single time you know they’re in a dangerous situation. The anguish you feel every time you see that haunted look in their eyes, and the dread that it will only get worse with time.

“But all of that pales in comparison to my ultimate worry,” he said, shaking his head. “So many people—” His voice caught and he cleared his throat. “So many people have died doing this.”

I couldn’t look at him, not now that he’d come so close to voicing my own fears. “I know,” I whispered, staring blankly at the book in front of me.

He stood from his chair and knelt in front of me. He cupped my cheek and his mouth pressed against mine.

I kissed him urgently and felt the hot rush of passion rise within me. Nothing was guaranteed but the present.

His hands caressed the sides of my torso, warming my flesh wherever they touched. I grabbed the edges of his shirt and pulled it over his head while he tugged off my jeans.

His thumb stroked the skin of my stomach as I removed his pants. His hands dipped under my shirt and he pushed the thin cotton tank top up my torso and over my head.

Frantically we stripped off the rest of our clothes. I wrapped my legs around Caden as he picked me up and moved us to his bed.

I wound my arms around his neck and blinked away the wetness in my eyes as my body shook. This felt too much like a goodbye. The unfairness of it all choked me up; I’d only just gotten a taste of being in love. I hadn’t even considered telling Caden the scariest secret of all: that he’d become my everything.

Chapter 34

My heart pounded the next evening as I was escorted to one of the many hospital beds.

“You all know your roles; you’ve done this before,” Dane Richards said, pacing around the front of the sterilized room. “Now it’s time to wrap this up.”

My eyes slid to Caden. He gave me the thumbs up as the crook of his arm was swabbed.

No one else looked as nervous as I felt. Were they just good at hiding their nerves?

Dane discussed the mission’s objectives and each teleporter’s role. I studied him while he did so. He didn’t live at the facility, but he’d been here quite often since I arrived. Maybe he always visited this often. But perhaps this was unusual. Perhaps something else was going on.

His eyes met mine, catching me staring at him. The lines on his face deepened, and I looked away.

A woman in a lab coat came over and wiped a damp cloth across the skin of my inner arm. My nostrils flared at the antiseptic smell.

As she did so, the first set of teleporters disappeared. A short while later footage of the estate blinked up on the wall of screens. I scoured the screens until I found a figure that had to be Emilio. He stood out on the back patio of the estate talking with someone. Still as good looking as ever.

“Are you guys ready?” Richards asked those of us who were left. He gave me in particular a hard look.

They’re watching me.

I nodded like everyone else.

Call it intuition, but I couldn’t shake that awful feeling that tonight would not go as planned.

I appeared in an empty catering van wearing a deep blue dress and silver accessories. I glanced at my bracelet. Embedded into its underside was the timer. As usual, they’d camouflaged it so well that if I hadn’t known what to look for, I never would’ve seen it.

I picked my way past empty catering trays and exited the van. Across from the van was an open door that led into Emilio’s mansion. As I walked towards the doorway, I could hear the clang of pots and pans and multiple voices yelling at each other in Spanish. I was going in through the kitchen.

I tried to be as discreet as I sauntered through the room in a peacock blue evening gown. It wasn’t that discreet. The voices died down as cooks and waiters noticed me. I smiled at them as I passed. A few smiled and nodded back. Sometimes acting normal was all it took … that, or they were about to call security on my ass as soon as I left the kitchen.

My breath caught when I entered the mansion’s living room. Emilio’s estate was perched on a hillside overlooking the Caribbean Sea, and the floor-to-ceiling walls showcased just how magnificent the view was.

Emilio’s guards somewhat ruined the scenery. They stood stationed in this room and outside along the edges of the lawn, holding automatic rifles. They scanned the crowd with their eyes.

I made my way outside, again stunned by the view. I was on the edge of the world. Out of my peripherals I saw Emilio notice me from where he still stood. Rather than approaching him, I sauntered over the edge of his estate, my blue dress suggestively clinging to every movement. I knew he’d follow.

I inhaled deeply and leaned over the railing that encircled the yard; I could smell the ocean even this high above the water.

“Mi pirata,” he leaned on the balcony next to me, “do you know how long it took me to find you?”

I repeated my information over in my head: I was Angela Woods, an independently wealthy associate curator at the Met who specialized in trades and acquisitions of priceless objects.

My appearance at the party where I met Emilio was to solidify a relationship with some private collectors living in Mexico, and now I was supposed to pretend that Angela Woods had finagled a trip to Columbia to look at some pre-Columbian artifacts and attend this party.

The layers of deception here were impressive.

I looked over at Santoro. “I’m glad you did find me.” I kept my voice low and gave him a whisper of a smile. “And I’m more than just a little glad to be here.”

He drank me in, a small smile on his face, and he brushed a strand of hair behind my ear. “The pleasure is all mine.” His fingers lingered on my skin.

I had to believe that the human mind is capable of great feats of intuition. That, or I was just really good at reading people. Because, despite Emilio’s beautiful features and what had to be a killer body, disgust overpowered me at his touch. All I wanted to do was slap away his hand and wipe that look from his face.

Instead I let him trickle his fingers down my neck. “I would love to get to know you better,” he said, his accent thick. His hand came to rest at the hollow of my throat. I forced myself not to jerk away.

Before I could say or do anything, his phone chirped.

Emilio cursed in Spanish. “Just a moment,” he said to me.

He put a hand in his pocket and silenced the call. “Sorry about that. Would you like a—” His cellphone began ringing again.

He gave me a tight-lipped smile. “I probably need to take this.”

I nodded. “Go ahead.”

He walked a little distance away from me and answered the call. Between the wind that whipped about and the Spanish he spoke, I couldn’t understand most of Emilio’s conversation.

A minute or so later, he closed the phone and came over to me. He watched me for a moment, saying nothing.

“Good call?” I finally asked when he didn’t break the silence.

“You could say that,” Emilio replied.

And then he lunged at my throat.

Chapter 35

His hands wrapped around my neck, squeezing off my air supply, and his fingernails dug into my skin. My hands tried unsuccessfully to pry his off, but his grip was too strong. He pushed my body further over the edge of the railing, my head, neck, and shoulders helplessly hovering over hundreds of feet of air.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t throw you off this cliff right here and now.” He was lethally calm. His eyes held nothing—no twinkle, no happiness, no life.

So this was where he went when he killed.

“Can’t … talk,” I managed to wheeze out.

He cocked his head to the side, studying me. Around us people were staring.

His eyes missed nothing; he noticed the mounting attention. “On second thought, I have other plans for you.”

He pulled me back from the ledge forced my arms behind me. Holding my arms at that unusual angle, he dragged me across the courtyard and into his mansion. Some guests gaped at the scene, but an alarming number of them ignored me or pulled their gaping friend’s attention away from the scene.

I breathed in deep gulps of air, my windpipe raw. My muscles throbbed as oxygen returned to them.

What had Emilio heard over the phone? Something damning. I wondered who ratted me out. It could’ve been the facility, but they’d blow their cover in the process.

Focus. I could do this. I just had to stay alive long enough to get back to the facility.

As soon as I recovered most of my breath, I kicked Emilio’s feet out from under him.

Immediately I regretted it. Before, no one had interfered. Now, three angry, armed men closed in on me as Emilio hit the marble floor. I took a knee to the gut and another hit to the solar plexus. The air in my lungs whooshed out, and I fell to the ground, doubled over in agony.

Around me I heard gasps, probably coming from the rich wives of cartel bosses and dirty politicians. I guess they didn’t have much exposure to their husbands’ violence.

Someone grabbed my hair and began dragging me. I lashed out, my heel catching one man in the thigh and my hands gouging the arm of the man dragging me.

One of Emlio’s goons slammed the butt of his gun into my temple. My eyesight dimmed and I willed myself to stay coherent. Water trickled down the side of my face.

Wait, not water. Blood.

The fact that I didn’t immediately know that wasn’t good. Even in my addled state I could recognize that.

I focused my eyes on my surroundings. Between when I’d gotten hit with the butt of a gun and now, bedlam had broken out around me. In the middle of it I saw a form wink into existence.

Caden.

He arrived kneeling, but in an instant he was on his feet, a gun in his hands and more crisscrossed over his chest. Caden was going to get his hands dirty tonight, after all.

Those around him stumbled back, alarmed by his sudden appearance, and he used that time to his advantage. He aimed and fired at the guards in the room, taking them out in quick succession.

Caden had arrived later than he was supposed to, and he was covered with weaponry, which meant that he’d teleported knowing I was in trouble.

Above me Emilio swore in Spanish and shouted orders at the men that clustered around us. One fell back, presumably to shoot Caden, and the other three grabbed ahold of me and began to run.

“Caden!” I yelled, seeing the remaining guard fall to one knee.

Caden turned and we made eye contact for the briefest of moments. Hold on. I could read the command in his gaze. Then his eyes flicked away from me and he shot the crouching guard.

Just beyond him, Desiree stood on the outskirts of the crowd. The cold, calculated look she wore froze the blood in my veins.

Whatever was going on, this had to be the project’s doing. And judging by Desiree’s expression, I think I knew who had set me up.

Emilio threw open a door and I was shoved into a chair. The door slammed shut behind me. It looked like I was in an office, along with Emilio and the Three Stooges. One of them cracked his neck. Another smiled at me like he enjoyed the thought of hurting me.

“So,” Emilio began, “which name do you prefer, Angela . . . or Ember?”

I tried to hide my surprise. He knew my real name? This was very, very bad.

“Well, from you, I prefer ‘mi pirata.’”

He backhanded me. My head whipped to the side and I winced from the pain. My head pounded from where I received my earlier head wound, and I could feel the stream of blood from it snake down my neck.

Never taking his eyes off of me, Emilio reached a hand behind him and pulled out a gun. He made a show of cocking it and pointing it at my chest.

I knew how he wanted this to go. He brought me in here to torture information off of me. It would be calculated and cruel.

If I could get a rise out of him, I might actually get hurt less. People with hot tempers liked the feeling of their fists slamming into skin. And at the moment I was more worried about an open wound than I was about getting beaten to a pulp.

“What do you want?” he asked, the gun trained on my chest.

Outside I heard shots ring out, and fear skittered through me. God, I hoped Caden was the one shooting rather than the one getting shot at.

“Answer me!”

My eyes flicked from the door to Emilio. Time to piss off the drug lord. “I only want the pleasure of your company.” It was an incredibly stupid thing to say, and it had the desired effect.

“Don’t fuck with me!” Emilio roared, his accent thick. He calmed down; the killer was in control again. “Tell me who you work for and why you’re here.”

I gave him a look, putting attitude into it that I certainly didn’t feel. “You mean to tell me you can’t hazard a guess?”

The gun went off, and I screamed as the most agonizing pain tore my chest open.

So much for my calculated plan.

I was gasping—he must have hit a lung. Fire spread through me, and movement—even my ragged breathing—was agonizing.

“Listen little girl,” Emilio leaned in close, “I kill people on a regular basis. I know more ways to torture a person than you can imagine. So tell me again, what—”

A series of shots rang out on the other side of the door, accompanied by the sound of splintering wood. The door handle twisted and crumpled under the spray of bullets.

Emilio cursed in Spanish and swiveled to face the door, getting down on one knee and aiming.

“Four men—Emilio’s down on one knee,” I yelled to Caden, forcing the words out even though it felt like I was getting shot all over again, “and he has a gun trained on the—”

My voice cut off as one of the guards slammed his fist into the side of my head. My vision went fuzzy as my head rocked to the side, and I coughed up blood.

Caden kicked the door open, and Emilio and his guards fired. For one awful second my world shattered at the sight of Caden riddled with bullets. And then I realized the man in the doorway wasn’t Caden, but instead a guard Caden had used as a human shield.

Caden didn’t hesitate; he shot Emilio in the head, followed by the guards. I’d never seen Caden—or anyone for that matter—move so quickly, not even when we’d trained together. Only one managed to get a shot off, and the bullet hit Caden’s human shield. It was over in a matter of seconds.

Caden shoved the dead man in his arms up against the door to block off others from coming in. Only once he’d done so did he look at me, slumped over on the chair.

“Ember!” He ran to me, sinking to his knees in front of me. “Oh God,” he moaned when he saw the wound. We both knew what an injury this extensive meant. Splicing. Death.

I should’ve been worried about myself, but the only thing I could think about was that Caden’s deepest fear had come true. I’d abandon him, just as his family had.

He cupped my face. “You can’t die Ember,” he said, his eyes red. “Goddammit, I love you—you can’t.”

Tears trickled out of my eyes. “I … love … y—”

My watch beeped once.

Caden’s eyes widened and his hands tightened on my skin, as though his sheer force of will would keep me here. “N—”

My watch beeped again, and I was gone.

I woke up to shouting, and for one horrifying moment I believed I was still at Emilio’s estate. A split second later the pain resurfaced.

I tried to scream, but my air passageway was blocked. Someone was already manually pumping oxygen into my lungs. My entire chest was consumed by flames, so much so that my vision blurred with it. I could barely think over the pain.

My eyes wouldn’t focus, but I could tell from the movement that I was on a gurney. A group of doctors wheeled me down a hall. Color seeped away, and with it, the pain.

I’m dying.

There was a blast of cold air, and then I lost consciousness.

Epilogue

The lead surgeon made the call. “She’s going to need to be placed in a barb coma.” The doctors that had watched the procedure up until now gave him questioning looks.

Of course they would. Induced comas were only authorized for patients at high risk for brain injury. The delicate girl on their operating table had extensive injuries—she’d resembled ground beef when she’d arrived—but her head wounds were not severe enough to warrant the coma.

The nurses—the ones he handpicked—didn’t bat an eyelash. They’d seen such wounds several times before, and they’d implemented the same procedure to save these individuals.

Only Dr. Kyle Evanson knew the true reason why these patients needed to be placed in such a coma. The government had paid him a nice bonus to make sure he knew how to handle such cases with discretion.

Around him the nurses cleaned and put away the surgical utensils. The coma was only the first step of several. Eventually his patient would end up in a hydroponic chamber like the others, and there she’d stay for the duration of her recovery.

Two months. That’s how long—at minimum—it would take to heal these wounds.

It was a miracle she’d survived splicing and the surgery to piece her back together. The odds had been drastically against her. And she wasn’t out of the woods yet. The possibility of an infection still lowered her chances of survival quite a bit.

However, the coma would suppress her ability to teleport, which was the biggest risk of all.

He gazed at the staples freshly inserted down and across the girl’s chest. She wouldn’t be the same, even once she woke up.

They never were.

Keep a lookout for the sequel to The Vanishing Girl:

The Decaying Empire

Coming Fall 2014!

Be sure to check out Laura Thalassa’s YA paranormal series

The Unearthly

Out now!

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