Between Shadows

by Chanel Cleeton

  Four hours later, I have nothing. I run a hand through my hair, frustration pulling at me. I want to go out and fight; I have no clue where to start. The Academy always provided me with targets. I was little more than a blunt instrument; I never had to figure out who the bad guys were.

  Maybe I should try to find Malcolm again; maybe I should head back to Tunis. But if he didn’t want to help a few days ago, I seriously doubt he’ll help us now. And who knows if he was the one who turned us in in the first place.

  I check my watch, rubbing my eyes.

  According to Luke, Oscar’s flight lands tomorrow morning. There’s no way I can go to the airport, but hopefully I can get a message to him to come to me. I use my new phone to type a quick text asking him to meet me at a spot near the hotel. I sign off using the code Luke developed for all of us.

  For hours I search the Internet, looking for anything I can find on Ares. My search of possible houses in Surrey leads me with thirty contenders, hardly anything to go on.

  I’ve prided myself on being the best asset at the Academy, but looking at my skills up close I realize how limited I really am.

  I’m so tired.

  I curl up in a chair, my back to the wall, my gaze facing the door, Luke’s gun clutched in my hand. And I wait.

  ###

  It starts with the fire. Always.

  In my dreams—nightmares, really—the flames lick at my skin, threatening to consume. This time when the fire comes, it isn’t just my mother and me. Luke is there, too—

  Luke and Grace.

  I open my mouth to scream, to warn them to run away, but no sound comes out. I try to move, to run to them and push them away, but my feet are rooted to the ground. I try to lift my arms, but they, too are useless. My whole body is paralyzed. The flames move closer. The heat rushes my face, sweat pooling on my brow. Smoke fills my lungs, shaking my body with harsh coughs.

  I’m going to die.

  A man’s face flashes before me. His features are more masculine than mine, his eyes a bit closer together, his nose a bit larger. But his eyes—

  It’s like looking in a mirror. Luke was right when he said I had my father’s eyes.

  I have no memory of him, and yet at the sight of that face, I know. I’m looking at my father’s face.

  And then the flames come, sweeping us away until nothing is left.

  I wake in the tiny hotel room in Piccadilly, my body folded in a chair, Luke’s gun clutched in my hands. My body is covered in sweat, my heart pounding with fear.

  I don’t move until morning.

  ###

  We meet in a sushi restaurant off Piccadilly.

  Oscar texts me when he’s at the location. I walk the short distance from the hotel to the restaurant, my strides rapid, glancing over my shoulder, wholly focused on my surroundings. I can’t afford to be sloppy again.

  I’m tired, bone weary tired. Sleep has eluded me these past few days and I’m running on caffeine and adrenaline. I’m pushing my body far harder than I should, hoping I can stave off the impending crash. The Academy gave us pills to stay awake for particularly long or intense missions—“Go” pills. Now I have nothing.

  As I near the restaurant my strides slow, my attention focused on the exit points. I trust Oscar to the extent I trust Luke and Luke trusts Oscar. But I wouldn’t put anything past Ares anymore.

  I peer through the glass window. Oscar sits alone at a table, his back to the wall. A computer is open in front of him. There are several other diners in the restaurant, but no one looks like a threat and no one seems suspicious. I take a deep breath before pulling on the handle and walking through the doorway.

  At the sound of the heavy door scraping against the floor, Oscar’s head jerks up, his gaze on me in an instant. He looks as stressed as I am. I sit down across from him.

  “What happened?” Oscar asks, his voice low.

  Emotion clogs my throat; for a moment, I can’t speak. “Luke and Grace are gone. Ares has them.”

  “Shit. How long have they been gone?”

  “A day. They were at Luke’s flat. I came home and they were gone.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to get them back.”

  “What if—”

  “No.” I struggle to keep the panic out of my voice. “They wouldn’t kill them. They want all of us. They have to know that holding Grace and Luke prisoner is the easiest way to get me. They want us all dead. Ares will use Luke and Grace as bait.”

  “How do you propose that you get them back, then? If you do what they want, you’re definitely walking into a trap you won’t be able to get out of. If you don’t cooperate with them, how do you expect to find where they’re holding Luke and your sister?”

  “We have a few leads.” I fill him in on our trip to visit Malcolm. “Luke mentioned that you started looking for the property in Surrey?”

  Oscar nods. “I found some possibilities and I’m still working a few angles. I don’t have anything yet, though.”

  “Luke said you had something important you wanted to share with us. What was it?”

  Oscar clears his throat. “Yeah, about that. I found some odd things in your files.”

  “What do you mean odd?”

  “Well, I couldn’t decrypt all of your files, and some of the stuff was just basic—missions, that sort of thing.”

  “Okay. And the odd part?”

  “Well for one, you and Luke both have the same notation in your file—Project X.”

  Something about that name sends a chill down my spine.

  “What’s Project X?”

  “I don’t know. That’s all it says. Project X. But I compared it with some other files I was able to pull off of the Director’s hard drive and I didn’t find anyone else who had Project X written in their files.”

  “Even other assassins?”

  “No one else.”

  “Did you pull my sister’s file?” Biology ties us—what if the Academy considered her to be different, too?

  “Yeah, I did. Not the complete file, but I was able to pull some of it.”

  “And?”

  “Hers is completely different from yours and Luke’s. They keep extensive medical records on all of the assets, but no one has records like yours. The notations there—” His eyes are laced with pity. “It looks like they were experimenting on you guys when you were kids. Luke’s notations are all medical and biological. Injections, that sort of thing. Yours aren’t.”

  God help me, I know what he’s going to say.

  “Yours are more environmental. Psychological.”

  I cut him off with a curt nod. I know where this is headed and right now I don’t have it in me to go there. Not until Grace and Luke are back safe.

  “Why did you start looking at our medical information?”

  Oscar shifts in his seat. “Well, in the beginning it was just weird. Your file—and Luke’s—has a lot more medical information than the other ones. But then—”

  Luke’s conversation with Grace in the kitchen flashes back to me. All that talk about our parents. “Luke asked you to look into it, didn’t he?”

  A guilty look crosses Oscar’s face before he nods. “He didn’t want you to know; he didn’t want you to be upset. But now that he’s gone—”

  Why didn’t Luke tell me? Why does he always seem to think he’s protecting me? When will he understand that I don’t need protecting?

  “He doesn’t want you to get hurt.”

  “I know.” I grimace. “I don’t care about Project X, whatever the hell it is. Not now. Not until they’re safe.” But that’s bullshit, of course. I care very much about the mention of my name, the one they gave me, the one I’ve kept since I entered the Academy, attached to some secret project. “I need to focus on Luke and Grace right now. I have to get them back. You have to help me. Please. I need you. I’m horrible with computers and I have no clue where to start looking.”

  “Has Ares tried to con
tact you?”

  “I don’t know. I ditched my mobile so they wouldn’t be able to trace it. And I haven’t checked the email the Academy assigned me for jobs for the same reason.”

  Oscar begins typing something on his computer. “We can access those from here. If they left you a message, I have a program that can pull it without them being able to track your location.”

  He hunches over the computer, his brow furrowed, typing on the keyboard. I give him my login information.

  “I’m in,” Oscar murmurs.

  “Anything?”

  “Give me a second. This isn’t something that can be rushed.” Oscar frowns. His gaze jerks up, meeting mine. Fear flashes in his eyes. “It’s bad.”

  I grab the computer from him, turning the screen to face me.

  And then my world stops.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  A picture of Luke’s battered face stares back at me, filling the computer screen.

  “X.”

  He looks destroyed—broken before me. A pain unlike any I’ve ever experienced floods me.

  “I’m going to kill them.”

  Bruises mar his skin, blood drips from his face. But his eyes—

  His eyes haunt me the most. They stare at me through the computer screen, the same stubborn, proud glint he always carries shining through.

  I can’t cry.

  I read the words typed at the bottom. Turn yourself in or he dies.

  “I can use the photo background to get a better idea of where they’re keeping him. You’d be surprised what you can get off of a photo.”

  I don’t look up from the screen. I can’t tear my gaze away from Luke. “Do it. We’re going to Surrey tonight.”

  “You can’t possibly think we’re going to be ready to take on Ares by tonight,” Oscar sputters. “It’s just the two of us. We need help, something.”

  “Who’s going to help us? And if we wait, they could hurt him more.” The words stick in my throat. “They could kill him. What are they doing to Grace right now? Is that the next picture I’m going to get? One of my little sister being tortured? Are they going to start experimenting on her?

  “It’s up to you. If you don’t want to help, fine. But get me the location of Ares’s safe house. If you want to leave after that, I’ll go alone. But I’m going in no matter what you do. This ends tonight.”

  Oscar sighs, resignation in his gaze. “We’ll need a helicopter.”

  ###

  We head back to my hotel room in Piccadilly.

  As soon as we close the door, Oscar flips open his computer and gets to work.

  “Malcolm said the board would meet in Surrey soon. Do you think that could be where they’re keeping Grace and Luke?”

  “Maybe,” Oscar answers, his voice strained. “But it could also be anywhere in the world. We have no way of knowing what they’re up to.”

  “They’re in England.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I just know.” Some things are instinct. “Because that’s how I would play it. They’re going to want to keep them close by so that they can use them if need be. I would bet my life on it; they’re here.”

  I am betting my life. And theirs.

  Oscar grimaces. “Let me see if Malcolm can get me more information on this meeting.”

  I wait while Oscar texts him. When he finishes, I pose the question I’m almost afraid to ask.

  “What do you think Project X is?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  I don’t buy that for a second. He’s smart. He definitely knows more than he wants to tell me.

  “It’s my name. You can’t have missed that.”

  “Could be a coincidence.”

  “You know there are no coincidences with the Academy.”

  “True.”

  “Have you heard anything about a Project X?”

  He shakes his head. “Not specifically, no. But there have been some other rumors.”

  “About what?”

  “Super assets.”

  I blink.

  “The rumor is that the Academy was creating a new breed of assets that were stronger and faster than any before them. Enhanced intelligence, better reflexes, that sort of thing.”

  The thing is, when he describes it like that, it doesn’t sound anything like me. Sure I’m the best, but what about the anxiety attacks, the dreams? They don’t make me strong at all. They only make me weak. If anything, Luke is the stronger one between the two of us. But it’s my name on the project. And like I told Oscar, there are no coincidences with the Academy.

  “Creating how?”

  He hesitates. “The rumor was that these assets were genetically modified to adapt to certain assignments. The Academy was testing them, using environmental and behavioral stimuli to mold them.”

  My heart pounds. I remember the Director’s words in my file, the feeling of being under observation, a lab rat in a cage. But if I am supposed to be a “super asset,” then I fear I’m also a giant failure. So why didn’t they just kill me from the beginning? The claustrophobia, all of it, has been with me since I came to the Academy.

  “What else do you know?” I ask.

  “That’s it.”

  My gaze is skeptical.

  “I’m telling you the truth. Honestly. I haven’t heard anything else.”

  “Do you think I’m one of those assets?”

  “After looking at your file? Yeah, I think you could be. Luke, too. You guys were the best at the Academy. Maybe there was a reason for that. There has to be a reason why your files are so full of extra medical information when the others aren’t.”

  His phone beeps and Oscar checks the text. “Malcolm says the meeting is going down tonight.”

  Finally. “Find me that house.”

  A look of unease flashes in Oscar’s gaze. “I don’t think I’m going to need to do that. Malcolm sent the address.”

  ###

  “This is about as close as I can go without them noticing anything,” Oscar calls out over the radio.

  I nod. This plan, if you could loosely call it that, is all Oscar. He scoped out the house in Surrey—estate, really—after a three-hour computer search. He hired the helicopter and agreed to fly me near the estate.

  The rest of it is woefully undeveloped.

  I’m dressed in black, my body covered in weapons. Oscar gave me a headset so we could communicate while I’m on the ground. The rest is up to me.

  The odds that we’re walking into a trap are high. Almost definite. I don’t trust anything coming from Malcolm and this is too easy. But I have to get them out. I have to try. I have nothing else left.

  We descend from the sky, surrounded by darkness. I miss the city lights, the noise, the people. Here everything is so quiet and somber; it’s hard not to think I’m landing in my own tomb. I don’t know if my newly minted forgiveness will cover tonight, but I offer a quick prayer to the heavens for us to get out of this alive.

  “You’re going to have to jump,” Oscar calls out. “It’s too hard to land here. I’ll double back and meet you guys farther away.”

  I start to get out of the seat. Oscar turns and his gaze collides with mine.

  “Good luck.”

  “Thanks. If I’m not out in an hour, leave.” Oscar opens his mouth to protest, but I cut him off. “I’m serious. Don’t wait for us. Luke wouldn’t want you hurt, too.”

  He gives me a clipped nod.

  I head toward the chopper’s opening, staring down at the ground below. The drop is only a few feet, but the mere thought of it has my stomach in knots. This actually isn’t my first time jumping out of a helicopter, or even my tenth, but all of those other times were practice at the Academy and each one sent me into the same tailspin of fear. This time the jump is everything.

  Be brave.

  I step out of the chopper, hit the air, and then I’m falling, falling, my parachute opening before my body hits the ground with a soft thud. I roll to my side, strugg
ling to stand, disentangling myself from the chute’s cords. Above me, Oscar pulls the chopper up and takes off into the night.

  “You okay there?” Oscar asks over the mic.

  “Fine.”

  I see the faint glimmer of lights up ahead and I take off running.

  ###

  It doesn’t take long for me to reach the outskirts of the main house. Luckily the grounds are surrounded by woods, providing the perfect cover. I hide in the brush, using my night goggles to search for guards.

  Four patrol the perimeter.

  If there really is some sort of a secret board meeting tonight, security seems rather lax. I learned at an early age that if a mission seems too easy, it probably is.

  The house—if you can call it that—is huge. There are cameras on the roof pointing down at various angles of the building. It’s a difficult, if not impenetrable target. Fortunately, I have a secret weapon.

  “Four guards,” I whisper into my mic. “Cameras on the roof.”

  “Give me a sec,” Oscar answers. “I’m trying to hack into their system now.”

  I pray he’s as good as Luke said he is. The longest minute of my life passes before he gives me the all-clear.

  I wait, trying to get into the rhythm of the guards. There’s a break—thirty seconds at most—between their movements. Hopefully, it’s enough. Especially if Oscar can disable the cameras.

  “On my count,” I hiss through my teeth. There goes the first guard, alert, his weapon drawn. Then the second. And the third. My eyes are glued on the fourth guard, counting time with each step. “Three, two, one.”

  I break out into a run, trying as hard as I can to keep my footsteps light. I reach the main house, my body slipping into the shadows.

  I grab the lock pick set out of my pocket, fumbling with the lock on one of the large glass doors. I have a minute or two at most before the first guard starts his round again. I open the door with a click, offering up a silent prayer that Oscar managed to disable the alarm.

  “Alarm off?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you get the cameras?”

  “Got ’em. The feed blipped so you shouldn’t be on there. It’ll loop for about half an hour give or take; you’ll be invisible inside the house.”

  And just like that, I’m a ghost again.