by Ella James
She got to her feet and stared at the wall she’d come through.
What had happened? It had felt like someone shoved her.
She put her hands back on the stone wall, tentative at first, then with growing panic. It didn’t give. She ran her hands all along the other walls. Nothing gave.
She’d been so close! She’d felt him. God, she missed him. Tears came, soft and warm and silent, as she climbed into the bed.
She buried her head in the pillow and pictured the Cayne she’d known on the train. The mental image started as a daydream of him holding her hand…but somewhere along the way, it changed. It wasn’t the two of them she saw: just Cayne. Not her Cayne, but a ghost she didn’t know. The one who’d tried to tell her he was hiding things. The one who had apologized with his eyes.
Tomorrow she would know for what.
*
Tap tap tap.
Tap tap tap.
Something was tapping at the edge of his mind. Not a sound—a feeling. A good feeling. It enticed him, pulled him forward and pushed him up. When he opened his eyes, he saw light and felt…Julia.
Satisfaction spread through him, warming his cold limbs, soothing his aching head. Intention filled him. He was a heartbeat away from rolling over, wrapping his arms around her, when reality intruded in the form of a dull throb in his wrists. He opened his eyes and saw the molded stone walls of the Nephilim prison. The Nephilim prison at the Stained compound.
He remembered what had happened at the museum and felt ill. He’d seen Julia get attacked as he’d fought the Stained that ambushed him. He was beaten all to shit, still bleeding from his head, but he could have fought off the entire crew—had he not been distracted by her.
But another Stained had saved her; he saw it right before he was overpowered. She was here, no doubt. In the hands of people he’d murdered.
Cayne groaned. Why had he taken her to Washington D.C.?
He’d remembered his history, memories that filled his throat with bile. He couldn’t bring himself to speak of it—so he’d told her about his childhood. What’d he done. And when she didn’t run screaming, he’d felt glad. Shamefully so.
So he hadn’t told her any more. He’d planned to tell her—or had told himself he did. He didn’t know the Stained would be waiting for them. He should have. He should have protected her as he’d promised to do. And he should have been forthcoming. He should have told her the truth—the whole dirty bit of it—when he had the chance.
But he’d inadvertently delivered her to them. And now he was here: lying on a stone slab with thick chains around his wrists and ankles, dried blood on his body, and an ache in his chest.
A high-pitched cough startled him, and he sat up, his eyes landing on a slim girl. He stared at her, really stared, and his blood chilled. Something was…wrong with her. Her eyes were hard. She held her shoulders straight and stared at him with what he could only describe as menace. Unless he was losing his mind.
He cleared his too-dry throat. “Who are you?”
“A friend.”
Definitely not a little girl. Her voice was young and high, but there was something heavy and dark beneath it.
“I only have one friend among the Stained.”
“Do you?” The girl smirked. “Will she remain your friend when she learns the truth?”
Cayne tried to stand, forgetting his arms were chained; when he fell back, he tensed his abs in a half sit-up, unable to lie prone with this…this thing leering over him.
“Who are you?” he demanded.
The girl grinned, amused. “Like I said: a friend. One who wants to thank you in advance for your assistance.”
“I’m not here to help you,” he growled.
“But you already have.”
Cayne’s heart tripped. He’d brought her to this…this thing. “If you even think about touching her—”
“I’m not the one you should worry about.” Another laugh, this one high and strange. “And you’re in no position to make threats.”
“If you’re my friend, why don’t you help me out of here? I could…repay you somehow.”
The girl ignored him. “Tell me something. Did you ever wonder why you were the only Nephilim born on this earth in almost 2,000 years?”
Cayne hadn’t. For one, he hadn’t known the statistic—at least not with certainty. But even if he had, the net wasn’t impenetrable. “Demons can still slip in.”
The thing that looked like a girl shook its head. “In the last 200 years, how many Nephilim have been born?”
Three Hunters. Cayne didn’t know how many others. Not many.
There was something to the question. Cayne knew it. The girl-thing was leading him…but where? “Why don’t you tell me, then?” He sat up fractionally straighter. “Why am I the only Nephilim born in 2,000 years? Or…I was when I was born. Why?”
It shook its head. “In time, Cayuzul. In time, we will know each other well.”
And then the thing was gone, leaving Cayne to fear for Julia.
*
For the first time since before the fire, Julia woke up hugging her pillow in that lonely, group home-era way. Her neck ached from sleeping with her head pushed into the mattress. Her jaw was sore from grinding her teeth. She shoved the pillow away and crossed her arms.
She had almost reached Cayne the night before. She knew it. Had felt it. But something had stopped her. It had pushed her back into her room and closed the walls to her.
Julia stepped in front of the mirror to straighten her cult clothes, deciding: There had definitely been intent behind the force. And that was creepy. Another creepy thing: her memory of the steamy place, and the pain inside her head.
No way that was some kind of coincidence, right? The whole place seemed almost sentient… So had someone done that to her?
Before she could conjure any creeptastic theories, she heard a knock at the door. She leaned into her room and saw Meredith’s curvy form through the hazy glass.
Meredith who claimed to be her new best friend, but who obviously had feelings (flares?) for someone who was definitely not a friend.
Maybe she didn’t know she had them. Or maybe they were using Meredith to get Julia to lower her guard.
When she opened the door, she found her ‘friend’ leaning in, with her head turned to the side and both hands in the air, palms out, like she’d been listening.
“Um…hey?”
“Jules!” Meredith smiled. “I was sent to get you, and when I got here I started getting this…well, I call them vibes. I was getting a vibe from you. You don’t trust me and it has something to do with—” she lowered her voice to a hiss— “you know who.”
“Who?”
“The Chosen Who Must Not Be Named.”
Julia arched her brows.
“I get it.” Meredith’s shoulders slumped. “You don’t have to be all sly. Sometime in the last 24 hours, you maybe saw my aura…do some kind of aura thing around—around Nathan. And here’s the thing: I think he’s cute, okay? It’s embarrassing, otherwise I would have told you already. I think he’s silly and obnoxious and he has those big squeezable shoulders and that hot little butt… But I’m not friends with him. I’m not a Shepherd, and I don’t hang out with Shepherds. And I heard about your boyfriend; Dizzy told Charles, who has a hopeless crush on Carlin, and Carlin told me at breakfast. And I—”
“I missed breakfast?” Her stomach was growling.
“Yep. Nathan let you sleep in.”
“How kind of him.” She had a pretty good guess why.
“So anyway, I know that Nathan and some of the other Shepherds got your boyfriend, and he’s here in our little prison.”
“Wait—” Julia held up her hand. “So it is a prison? A real prison?”
Meredith nodded. “I don’t think it’s terrible or anything. The people in charge here are douchebags, but they’re not sadistic.”
Julia was not comforted. Which Meredith must have sensed, because she gr
abbed Julia’s hand and squeezed it, then spoke in the most serious voice Julia had heard her use yet. “Look, I’ve got nothing personal against your Nephilim. And I think that he must be a good guy, otherwise you wouldn’t be with him. Plus, it’s kind of hot. Forbidden romance…” Julia’s cheeks burned as Meredith wiggled her eyebrows. “So here’s the thing, and I want you to read my aura as I say this.”
“That’s okay.” Julia had never shied away from reading auras before she arrived at this place, but now she saw it as a risk.
“I want you to,” Meredith insisted. “Please.”
Reluctantly, Julia opened her Sight. Meredith’s aura was deep violet with golden flecks—totally fitting, as auras always were—and it showed no trace of deceit or malice.
“I really do want to be your friend. And as long as no one gets hurt, I’ll help you—” she lowered her voice “—with you know what.”
Julia looked at every inch of her would-be friend’s aura. Completely earnest. Sincere. She felt a beat of gladness. “I believe you…I guess.”
Meredith grinned. “Thank you. You won’t be disappointed.”
Julia took a deep breath. It felt good. She felt good—well, better. About a hundred times better.
“Now spill!” Meredith said. “We have to walk to the theatre, so you have plenty of time to tell me all about this guy.”
Julia stepped into the hall, turning to look at her door, which evidently didn’t have a lock. It creeped her out, even when she considered that most people could walk through walls, so what did a lock matter.
“Wait, first I’ve got a question.”
“What?”
Julia glanced down the hall, then leaned in. “Last night I tried to float to Cayne. I almost got there—”
“You were able to do it?!” Meredith was shocked.
“Well, yeah. You showed me.”
“No, I mean…it took me a like a month to learn it.” Meredith whistled. “Damn, Jules, you got the skills.”
Julia shrugged, not really caring how quickly she picked up something she planned to never need. “I thought about wanting to find him, and I think I almost made it to wherever he was. But something pushed me back into my room. And when I tried again, I couldn’t get through. Like, not even my hand.”
Meredith frowned. “I’ve never tried to get to the prison before, but it’s a place most people can’t go. It was probably just some kind of trap.”
Julia nodded, not convinced, but clearly that was the explanation that made the most sense to Meredith.
Meredith shrugged. “You should try again later. Maybe it’s something you could practice. Now come on.”
Julia frowned as Meredith grabbed her wrist and started walking. “To the theatre?”
“Right. But it’s not a movie theater,” Meredith said, “more like a Roman theatre.”
“That doesn’t really clarify.”
“Gah, Julia, it’s a space where we do things.”
Julia didn’t want to be annoying, but Meredith seemed to have forgotten that she’d just arrived. “What kind of things?”
“Like meditate. That’s what we’re going to do.”
Julia rolled her eyes, for the first time in her life feeling too cool for school. This place was wonky.
“It’s kind of a Candidate thing,” Meredith said. “We all meet up in the theatre, which is on the back side of the Commons, and we sit together in a big hokey group and meditate to ‘enhance our abilities.’” Meredith rolled her eyes, too. “We do it almost every morning, and after that we have Lesson.” Meredith did air quotes around “lesson.”
Julia’s stomach lurched. Something about structured activities in an enclosed space hundreds of feet underground cast her situation in an even grimmer light. She’d been too busy worrying about Cayne to give the Chosen much thought, but on her way to her first lesson, she could see the days rolling out before her. Days when Cayne was locked up and she was surrounded by glowing walls and fellow freaks all caught up in some narcissistic fantasy.
“Are you sure this Candidate thing is even real?” she asked as they passed through the seniors’ hall. “I mean, are you sure it isn’t some kind of…trick? It sounds ridiculous. The Chosen One?”
“Just The One.”
“Well, either way. It’s hard to believe this is taken seriously.”
Meredith didn’t say anything, and when Julia looked at her aura, she saw it tinged with red. “I’m sorry if I offended you. I—”
“You didn’t,” Meredith said shortly. She glanced at Julia, sighed, and grinned, embarrassed. “It’s hard to be here and not take it sort of seriously, because almost everyone else does. But you’re right. It does sound ridiculous.”
Julia didn’t respond, but she wondered if that would happen to her. Not if I don’t let it.
She looked down at her feet, suddenly missing her gum-pink All-Stars more than anything other than Cayne. “Is there any way to figure out which Trainee took my clothes?”
“I don’t think so.” Meredith’s lips pulled into a thin line. “Even if you found them, you couldn’t wear your clothes here.”
“Why?”
“We’re supposed to wear gray so we remember we’re all one people. Like, we have ‘shared purpose.’” There were the air quotes again. “I guess you want your pink All-Stars, right? They were cute.”
“Yes.” Julia twisted a lock of her dark hair. Were. For all she knew, they’d been put in an incinerator.
The awful thing is, that sounds exactly like something they’d do.
She glanced ahead, where she could see the tunnel’s end, the beginning of The Commons. “So do people who come here stay forever?”
“I think most people do. There are benefits to being here. It’s really safe. It’s never been attacked. The pyramid is supposed to have a spell to make it impossible to find. And most of the adults get paid for doing work for X Enterprises. It’s a big company.”
Julia nodded. All of a sudden tears had filled her eyes, and she didn’t want Meredith to see.
“It’s okay,” Meredith said. She gave Julia a funny little knowing look. Damn sensing. “I felt that way when I first got here. I still do. Being here sucks. The worst thing is, now that I’ve been here for a while, I don’t know what I’ll do if I ever bust out of this place.”
“Wait—why would you need to bust out? I thought you said we didn’t have to stay here.”
“Oh, we do. We’re Candidates. Candidates can never leave.”
Chapter 9
Julia couldn’t meditate—at least not now. She was too uptight. She had to fake it. Of course, half of the Candidates probably noticed, so then she wasn’t really faking. More like posing.
The Candidates did some backward form of yoga. Kind of yoga and prayer combined. They prayed to “the gods,” and a few minutes into the “cleansing,” Julia was 100 percent certain she’d been roped into a cult.
They extra creepy thing was, she definitely sensed something going on. Something eerily similar to how she had always imagined the Force. It crackled at the edge of her awareness, and she knew that if she opened her Sight she’d be able to see it.
As she twisted her body into all kinds of ridiculous positions, she heard Meredith’s voice on replay in her head, over and over like a scratched CD.
Candidates can never leave, NEVER leave, NEVER LEAVE…bahahahaha!
Julia rested her hands “peacefully” on her knees and wondered if never really meant never. Was it really never, or until she was 18 and no longer a Candidate? And did they really think they could just keep her here?
Finally Nathan called the Candidates to rise. Julia wobbled to her feet, feeling even stronger the cackle in the air.
Beside Nathan was the infamous Dizzy, a ballerina-looking girl with long, wheat-colored hair, a straight nose, thin lips, and gray eyes that looked too large for her face. Julia had only met the girl briefly, and right away she had disliked her. It wasn’t anything she could put her finger
on—more like a lack of common ground. She’d known half a minute in she and Dizzy wouldn’t have anything to talk about.
The girl stepped forward, bringing her perfectly manicured hands together.
“Nice job, Candidates. Now that we’re all re-charged—”
Julia felt a crackle in the air, like a bottle rocket launching or a piece of paper being torn, and her whole body flushed. Her vision blurred, and then Dizzy’s aura flared into the foreground. It was darker than any human aura Julia had ever seen, and smeary at the edges, its colors fading in and out in a frantic pulse, finally settling to brownish green.
