by Honor Gable
"Are you all right?" I ask, confused.
She moves the teapot to the middle of the tray, shakes her head, and returns it to its original spot. "I'm sorry. I'm a bit nervous. My job in the resistance was never anything like this, the danger was never this close."
"What are you talking about? You have Germans in your home on a regular basis. I'd say you have one of the scariest jobs." I hand her the napkins.
"Perhaps, but it's never felt that scary until now."
Guilt pulls down my lips. "I'm sorry."
"Oh no. Don't feel bad. I'm happy to have you here and help. And you took care of the three who really could have caused me problems."
We jump at the pounding on the front door. The maid hurries to the door after the nod from Jade. Four Germans strut in, one of them apparently a friend of Jade's.
He takes off his hat. "I'm sorry about this, Jade. But we have to check everyone."
She stands up and saunters over to him and smiles with her eyes open wide. "Of course. I understand. But, can I ask one thing?" Her finger trails down over his chest, flicking each button on the journey.
I'm going to be sick. I'm going to kill them. I want to see the blood rise as I scrape my fingernails across their faces. The guilt for killing that one officer is gone. He deserved it. They all do.
He bows. "Please. How can I make this more pleasant?"
"Just be careful not to break anything or make too big a mess. I beg you." Her smile turns pleading and playful.
He takes her wandering hand in his and brings it to his lips. "We will. Don't worry. You ladies enjoy your tea."
Who is this woman? She has him wrapped around her finger with a smile and a pout of her red lips. She's so different around them, flirtatious and playful. The edge she balances on terrifies me. I could never handle something like this. My entire body is tensed, torn between bashing them in the heads with an iron pot or flying from the house, running until I collapse.
We try to make small talk as they search through the house, but we can't help but sneak peeks at them. They pretty much just saunter through the house, picking up things here and there and putting them back down. If this is how they searched other houses, they didn't find a thing.
Jade's cover is fine.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
AUDREY
Even though my body is on the verge of shutting down, my brain whirls. I healed Theo. I have his scars. I wasn't shot in the chest, I took on his wounds. I healed someone. Will I be able to do it again? This could change everything. If I can finally heal others, I never want to lose my powers. It didn't work when the scientists tried to have me heal Rivka's burns.
With a face so contorted I probably look like a monster, I struggle to my feet. I have to get back to the others. I have to tell them. If my powers have changed, maybe theirs have too.
We're getting stronger.
Maybe we won't have the awful side effects anymore, though my body seems to think that's a ridiculous thought. A little more energy and strength soothes me now that I'm finally on my feet. The wall behind me helps keep me from sinking back down, but I think I'll be able to walk in a few moments. My lips twitch and my stomach clenches in excitement. I healed Theo. He's alive still. He threw himself in front of the bullet meant for me, the idiot.
Happiness and pride fill me till I'm swollen with it.
I should've kissed him before he ran off to find help.
I'll remedy my mistake as soon as he's back. Maybe I'll hole up back at his house instead of returning to Xavier's. I wouldn't mind celebrating life with him for a day or two. My body heats with a red wave at the thought. He said something about being out under the stars.
I shift until I'm standing on my own. He better hurry up.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
VIOLA
Rivka makes me wait for another hour before she shows her face. I hear the door from upstairs and I sprint for the parlor, barely keeping my extra speed in check. Her face shines bright with a smile as she runs the last two steps and we wrap our arms around each other, crying and laughing. The worry and terror for her melt away, leaving me with nothing but blessed relief.
With a last hard squeeze, she steps back. "I'm sorry. I had to hole up in the catacombs. Elodie had no energy left to carry me along with her, so she showed me a hiding place. Things are mad out there."
A little of the giddiness fades. "The Gestapo just left."
Her brows disappear into her hair. "What?"
"They were doing searches, but they barely looked at anything."
She smiles. "Guess we picked a good place to stay."
She winces as she pulls off her gloves. I hiss in sympathetic pain. Her hands are covered in angry weeping blisters. She used her powers too much. I lead her by the wrist up to our room and dig around until I find the cream. She's low. Way too low.
She washes her hands in the basin and sits stoically as I spread the cream over her hands and wrap them up. I want to weep over how much they must hurt. She may have a useful power in a fight, but nothing is worth this.
"I'm fine, Vi, really. I've gotten used to it, and the cream really helps with the pain."
I don't argue with her, or point out she's going to be in trouble once it's gone.
She grins. "We sure kicked Nazi ass today, didn't we?"
I burst into giggles. She doesn't curse much. "Yes, we did."
We lay back on her bed, resting and chatting a bit. Feeling tired, but exhilarated. Nervous, but proud.
We've done good work here.
Satisfying.
For the first time, I don't long for home.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
AUDREY
Theo is taking too long. With my breath back, if not my strength, I peek around the garbage. Where is he?
Loud footsteps head my way and I blow out a breath in relief, clutching my pistol just in case.
Theo doesn't turn the corner. Three Jerries do.
I pull the trigger, groaning at the click. My gun's empty. I fire again, hoping it's jammed, but it's empty and my cover is gone. The gun slips from my hands and clatters to the ground as I take off.
I don't make it a block.
My chin busts against the cobblestones, whipping my head back and wrenching my neck. I bite back tears of pain, and fight to escape the man who tackled me. But two more join him and they throw me into a black car, one on either side, holding me down, and I take three fists in the face before I slump, cowed. Terror plagues me. Where are they taking me? What will happen if they discover I can heal myself? I won't be an experiment, not for these bastards. I'll find a way to kill myself. What are they going to do to me? Please, God. Help me.
In danger of bursting into sobs, I focus on thoughts of Viola. She got away. And I couldn't tell anything else in all the madness, but I have to believe Lois and Rivka were with her. Theo's alive and I don't think they caught him too, or I'd have heard the fight. He'd never let them take him alive. What will he think when he comes back and finds me gone? I can't think about him now or I'll break. And I can't break. I can't let them break me or tell them anything.
I am Justine. A rich French girl who trusted the wrong boy. I had no idea what was going on. I thought I was just supposed to hold the gun. My name is Justine. My name is Justine. I'm a rich French girl who came to Paris to visit friends. I'm some stupid girl. I thought it was a prank. I'm new to Paris and I don't know anything about Gestapo HQ. My name is Justine. I am Justine. I'm sorry, I don't speak English very well. My name is Justine.
My name is Justine.
I'M THROWN INTO A CELL with one thin and filthy mattress in the corner. No one else is in here, but someone has been. Slash marks are gouged into the wall along with a quote. "Pity is lost in rage and fear." Who wrote that? I recognize it. Viola would know. I repeat it to myself over and over, thanking whoever left it here for the strength it gives me.
I hug myself, and I pace the cell, not ready to brave the mattress that's surely crawling
with fleas and lice and who knows what else. There isn't much room to pace in. Four steps and I have to turn around and do it again. Back and forth as I inspect my injuries. The bruises on my arms from where they held me down have faded away and the cut on my chin is gone. Nothing that can't be explained away. Unless they find my bullet scars.
I search the floors and every nook and cranny, stifling a shout of triumph when I find a bent and rusty nail. They can't find the bullet wounds. It opens too many questions. I start with the ones on my chest, scraping the tip of the nail deep into my skin and scratching it back and forth. Blood wells and the pain is sharp and fogs my mind, but the wound closes fast. Now it looks nothing like a bullet wound. Maybe a knife or something. I shove the bottom of my shirt into my mouth to keep my moans quiet. I contort my limbs and strain my neck to reach each one and ruin the scars.
I'm covered in sweat and panting with pain by the time I'm finished. My shirt is already bloody, so a little more won't matter.
I'm weak and dizzy and in pain with hunger. And I doubt I'll be fed any time soon here.
I want to curl up into a ball on the floor, but I can't put myself in such a vulnerable position. They could return for me at any moment and I won't show weakness. Or maybe I should so they'll believe my story. Oh, what was it they taught us to do in training? Lie and deny. Accept nothing from them. Well, London hasn't been too wonderful to us, so I won't be stretching myself to take their advice. And no one will be coming for me if they have anything to do with it. Will they come for me? Part of me hopes so, and the other part of me knows it's too dangerous. They don't have enough people and the Nazis will be ready for another attempt at rescue.
I'm on my own.
But the others are safe. The others escaped.
I have to focus on that.
Not my miserable circumstances.
If only I was Wonder Woman.
I brush the tears away and harden my jaw. I must forget all that. I am no longer Andromeda or Audrey. I am Justine.
And, that's how I stand when the Nazis come for me.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
VIOLA
The safe house rests behind a field of lavender. Row after row of gorgeous purple stretches out before it, the house tiny in the distance. The breeze lifts up the scent and carries it over to me, the flowery and fresh smell lifting my spirits a bit. Lavender has always been one of my favorite flowers, the happy purple color unlike any others. Our steps speed up as we wind through the rows, four days of waiting for Paris to calm down reaping desperation and worry.
The door opens before we've even made it to the door, and Lois launches herself at us, squishing us into a tight hug. My arms clutch her to me, relief she's alive washing over me.
"Where's Audrey?" I ask
Lois's body tenses. "You know about Audrey, right?"
Dread ices my hands. "No. I assumed she was here with you."
Lois grimaces. "She was arrested."
I bite back a gasp at the spear of pain straight through my chest. "What?" Shattered lines web across the sky and smash into bits, raining down on me. She continues explaining, but I can't hear anything over the roar in my head. No. No, no, no. Flashes of what could happen to her torment my mind. How much fun the Nazis will have, hurting her, learning her secret.
My mad, beautiful friend—tortured, bowed, broken, hollow, dead. Tears pour down my face unchecked and I clutch my hands to my heart, trying to rub feeling back into it. All I want is to wake from this nightmare because this can't be real. Audrey can't be caught. Not beautiful, brave, laughing Audrey.
The tears disappear and I sit at attention. "We will just have to break her out like we did the others."
Their almost twin brown eyes filled with determination meet mine. "Yes. We will." Rivka scowls.
"That's not all."
"What else could there possibly be?" Rivka asks.
"Theo's alive."
My eyes widen and my heart skips a beat. "What?" A million questions and sobs catch in my chest. Only that one word is able to push through.
Lois hugs herself. "We think Audrey healed him. He's asking a lot of questions and we don’t have any answers. He must have been knocked out. The blood on his clothes were harder to explain. We told him Audrey was hit trying to help him and it was her blood. He doesn't act like he really believes us, but the truth is too impossible for him to guess."
Rivka shifts against her tree. "Audrey can heal others now?"
"It looks that way."
"Do you think our powers will change too?" Hope lays at my feet, broken and grey. The wind rustles the leaves and grass under my feet, tickling my ankles like it's trying to comfort me. I rip out handfuls of grass and throw them far from me. The scent of lavender wafting about is replaced with the stench of death, of blood. I want the world to weep and rage along with me, not light up with the sun smiling down on us. I want thunder and lightning and violent, whipping winds. These woods have no business being this enchanted and beautiful.
Finally, Rivka replies. Like she's terrified of the question she must ask. "Have you noticed a change?"
I shake my head. "No. Either of you?" I brace for their response. The powers are bad enough. I don't want to do more.
They shake their heads too. I'm ashamed of the relief.
"Speaking of, where are our bracelets?" Rivka asks.
Lois reaches into her pack and shows us the handful of glinting stones. My eyes burn as I take mine and Audrey's and stare down at them with thin lips. I sniff and strap mine back on, hissing at the jolt and pain and power. I need to run, run, run until my legs collapse. My head swims and skin burns. It takes a few moments for my body to settle. Rivka gasps beside me.
Lois bites her lip and pulls something else shiny from her other pocket, holding it out to me. "I thought you'd want this."
Torment rips through me as I take Audrey's Eiffel Tower necklace with trembling fingers and clasp it around my neck. My voice is thick and raspy as I thank her. I'll keep it safe until we get her back.
"Xavier doesn't know we didn't use them, does he?" Rivka asks.
Lois shakes her head so hard her blonde hair tumbles down from her bun. "No. He can't know. I don't trust him enough."
I might, but I'm not willing to chance it. "We're not leaving her in prison."
Lois stands and brushes off the back of her trousers. "Let's go back to the house. It's just Xavier and two of the people we saved here and everyone but Xavier is leaving tonight. Two of the women were pretty banged up. They couldn't stay here without medical help. We're supposed to be on the plane with them."
"Not happening." Rivka is firm.
Rage paints the world scarlet and batters down upon my head. I want to hunt down and kill every last Nazi for what they've done to them. What they're doing to Audrey. For the sweet, old couple they murdered in their own home. For the starving children with haunted and hollow eyes.
We weren't prepared for this. None of us.
I'm alone locked in a dark room reeking of urine and metal, strapped to a hard chair. They keep me almost completely sensory deprived for what feels like days. Deep breaths fill my lungs, and I remind myself this isn't real. I wasn't actually caught by the Gestapo and locked away. It's practice. Practice. My wrists and ankles chafe from the rope rubbing and digging into my skin and the room broils, causing sweat to roll down my back, between my breasts, and plastering my hair to my skull.
A bright light turns on, aiming right for my face, blinding me with white shards of pain worming their way past my eyes and into my brain. I try to bring my hands to my eyes to hide from it, forgetting they're tied. Closing my eyes does no good, the light burrows past my lids, the thin skin no barrier. I'm so thirsty, my mouth dry and lips cracking. Still blind, soft footsteps echo behind me. My body tenses, my fingers folding into fists, my breath hissing at more skin rubbing away.
They promised they wouldn't hurt us. They wouldn't take it too far.
Shuddering, I banish the memo
ry and lift my face to the sunlight, not wanting to remember the rest. I still wake up with silent screams searing my throat from that night.
But that was nothing. Nothing.
Once we're inside, Rivka joins Xavier at a table where he's staring at a map. He does that a lot.
Lois nudges me. "Come on. I'll introduce you to the two who're still here. They want to meet you."
The wooden steps are creaky and winding, our feet stampeding up them. If they were resting, they should be quite awake now, the sound of our ascent thundering through the house. She creaks open the first door after a quick knock. My eyebrows shoot up into my hairline. Apparently the two we were sent to save are lovers. He's just pulling a shirt over his head and she laces up her shoes when we walk in.
Maybe Audrey was right. Taking comfort when you can. I wish she and Theo had gotten the chance before everything went to hell.
"Sorry for interrupting."
She places her foot onto the floor and looks up with a grin, her plain face transforming into some sort of mischievous elf. "That's all right. We're all sorted." She comes towards us hand outstretched. I grasp it in mine and shake. "It's lovely to meet you. I'm Chloe and that sod there is Quentin. Thank you so much for helping get us out of that dreadful place. We owe both of you our lives, right darling?" She throws a wink over her shoulder at him.
He strides over and kisses me on both cheeks. "Yes. Whenever you need us, come. We mean it."
Who are these strange creatures? They don't seem very British, and their time at the hands of the Gestapo hasn't seemed to have affected them much.
"Yes. After this horrid war is over, we'll have to get drinks and reminisce about when we were heroes." A high note of cynicism and pain creeps into Chloe's voice. Maybe she isn't as unaffected as I thought.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
AUDREY
