Follow Me Through Darkness (3 page)

“Why did you leave the Compound, Neely?” he asks.

I start to walk past him, and he claps my arm. The harsh line of his lips demands an answer, but gentleness is present in his eyes. It’s that gentleness that reminds me of my father before all of this. Before he was made into something else.

“Because I had no choice,” I say.

“We always have choices.” He releases me and walks on, the light of his torch leading the way.

I had a choice; he’s right. My choice was to say nothing, to do nothing, and lose everything-or I could leave. I could fight. That’s what I’m doing, and it may end up costing me everything anyway.

“What’s in San Francisco?” Bayard presses in my silence.

“I’m looking for someone,” I reply. I don’t want to tell him about the Mavericks yet; even though the Remnants respect the Mavericks, not all of them agree and not all of them can be trusted. I’m told the Elders have ears and eyes everywhere.

Bayard mumbles something under his breath. “This whole thing was rushed-you coming here, us helping you out. There a reason for that?”

I shrug. “It’s urgent. I only have thirty-two days left to make it there.”

“What happens if you don’t?”

“I will lose.”

“Lose what?” he asks.

I avoid the question. I look around the Burrows while we move, studying the metal bars along the ground the best I can. I count the pieces of trash we pass and hum inside my head. I listen for the sound of his boots clomping. But even all the distractions can’t stop the word from coming out.

“Everyone.”

He doesn’t hear me. The word is barely whispered, inaudible and lost in the echo of darkness.

62 DAYS BEFORE ESCAPE

THERE’S AN ECHO AS I
move down the stairs and into the dark depths of Xenith’s quarters. Mint lingers around me as if he’s painted the walls with his familiar scent. In all my life, I’ve never stepped into his quarters. I know that being here means something more than I ever expected to give in this fight. There’s no turning back after this. But I can still hear Thorne’s screams in my ears, feel his pain again and again. I’m doing this for him, for my father, and for all the people the Elders have ever hurt. I have to stop them
.

Xenith is hunched over a table, his blond hair falling in his face. His hand moves fiercely on the paper spread across the table. I can’t help but stare at him. He isn’t Thorne, whose beauty is simple and holistic, olive and dark, but Xenith is undeniably attractive. He has a strong chin, a sharp jawline, and blue eyes, dark and vast like the ocean. They always seemed much older than eighteen, wiser maybe, undeniable. I’ve always liked his eyes, ever since we were kids. The truth was always swirling in them, even when I didn’t want to see it
.

“Neely,” he says without looking up from whatever he’s working on. “Are you lost?”

“No.”

Xenith moves the paper over to a different stack and continues writing. The pencil in his hand moves quickly and I try to see what the words are, but they aren’t in English
.

“I’m here because-”

He holds up a hand to me, and I bite my lip, waiting. His hand moves across the paper on his table, never pausing and never faltering. He doesn’t look up, so I wander around the room. To my left is a shelf full of trinkets. One is a small, round glass object with faint white lines etched into it. I reach out a hand, but Xenith says my name as a warning without even looking up. I step away from it like I’ve been scolded and feel childish. Alone and lost in a big world. I move toward another shelf, this one filled with books. My fingers graze one of the spines as I wait for him to stop me. He doesn’t
.

I watch him as he brushes his hair out of his eyes, leaning over the counter and writing like a madman on sheets of paper. Maybe he is a madman. A crazy, dangerous, genius of a madman. For someone who’s only eighteen, sometimes I feel like he’s so much more than I can ever be. As if he knows more than I can begin to understand
.

I shouldn’t be here with him. If Thorne or my father found out, then I’ll be in more trouble. I can find another way. I step back toward the stairs and hear him slam his hand on the table. When I turn around, he has a smile on his face
.

“Sorry. I was in the middle. Some things you have to finish before you can start others,” he says. He moves toward me and raises an eyebrow. “Leaving so soon?”

I shake my head. “I need to talk to you.”

He laughs. “I figured, since you’ve never set foot in my quarters before.”

“It’s important.”

Xenith nods his head at me and points at the far side of the room toward a beat-up leather couch. I lead the way, and we sit, me on the couch and him in a chair next to it. My heart dances in my chest, trying to escape or make too much noise and tell on me. I shouldn’t be here. Thorne wouldn’t like me trusting Xenith. He never has
.

“Do you want a drink?”

I shake my head. “I’d rather get this over with.” My mouth is cotton, but I’m more scared of accepting anything more from him than I am about to
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“What can I do for you, Neely?”

His voice is smooth, confident. I know he’s been expecting me. Xenith has a way of knowing things that others don’t-especially with me. I inhale so a deep breath fills my lungs and calms me down, then clears my head. I’m here because I have to be
.

“I need to leave the Compound,” I say. “As soon as possible.”

If he’s surprised, he doesn’t show it. His gaze is steady, focused on my face, and he shrugs. “Why are you coming to me?”

“You’re the only one who can help me. I know that you can, that you know the way things work.” I lean forward on the edge of the chair. “I know that you know the way out.”

Xenith meets my stare. “What is it you’re asking?”

He wants to me say the words, to paint the picture I see, even if he already sees it. If I can’t say it, then how could I ever actually change it?

I sit up straighter. “The Elders have something planned for me, something more than me being a director. I’ve read things about what they’ve done, what they plan to do. And my father is different. More out of control. I don’t know why, but I think they’ve done things to him. I found files in his office, notes on cases where the Elders had been experimenting on twins, and there was something about me in there.”

“What was it?”

My mind races back to the pages I read. “It said that I failed the experiment. It didn’t say what the experiment was, but on other twins, they used a special branding and it changed them.” I pause. “I think it’s changed all of us. Whatever they are doing, whatever they’re up to, it’s not good. My father told me they had a plan for me, Xenith, and I don’t want to be part of any plan they have. I definitely don’t want to be the director. I want the truth.”

“About what?”

“Whatever they are doing. To me, to Thorne, to all of us.” The globe on the shelf catches the corner of my eye, and I turn to look at it. The lines that outline the Old World are barely noticeable up close, but even from here, I can see them. America used to have life, and maybe it still does. Maybe the Old World isn’t as old as we are told. “I don’t believe anymore that we’re the only ones alive from the Preservation. I know there is someone in the Old World who can help us.” I look away for a heartbeat before looking back. “I feel it.”

Xenith’s eyes grow dark, unmoving and still. He shrugs again and leans back in the chair. “But why are you coming to me?”

“Because you hate the Elders.” Because they’re responsible for your family dying. I don’t say that, but it’s shared in a glance. He leans toward me, his hands crossed in front of him and resting on his knee. “And because I read things about your ancestor, Nicholas Taylor, who claimed there was still life outside. I believe him, and I think you know it’s true.”

“My help has a price. Even for you-especially for you.”

“I know,” I say. I don’t look away, which I know he expected. I know coming to him requires something of me. Xenith doesn’t give away information or time for free. There are whispers of people turning to his family over the years at the cost of information or time or a much-loved item. I’m ready for whatever he’s going to ask of me
.

Xenith moves from his seat. I see him smile before he turns his back on me. He moves toward another shelf in the far corner of the room, takes down a book from the back-the same one I was looking at before-and sets it to rest on the table
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“I can help.”

“Just like that?”

He smiles with a nod, and his shoulders drop. “There’s a group in the Old World, a secret organization if you will, called the Mavericks. They’ve been around a long time and they have a lot of power. They can help you. You can help them, too. You just have to get to them.”

I nod in agreement, unable to process it all. He’s helping me. I’m going to leave the Compound and go into the Old World. It’s an adventure, a quest like the ones I’ve read about. Suddenly, it’s all very overwhelming. I don’t know if I can do it. Xenith’s eyes study me. I can’t let him see that I’m not sure, so I stand and move from the couch toward him. He turns to shield the book from me, and our bodies are only inches apart
.

“What do I need to do?” I ask. I fight down the part of me that wants to move closer. That part has always wondered what it would be like to be closer to Xenith. The other part, the stronger one, has kept me away
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“Nothing. Wait for my word. I’ll get things together for you.” His gaze sends an unnerving chill down my spine, but I don’t move. “Is there something else?”

I step back. There’s one piece of the puzzle that has to be fixed. The most important piece. The real reason I need to get a life away from here. The words hesitate in my mouth, frozen. It won’t be something easy for Xenith. In fact, this will probably be the worst thing I could ever ask him, and yet I have to ask him. “Can you protect Thorne while I’m gone?”

Xenith clenches his jaw. His blue eyes peer into mine, harsh and sharp like ice
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“Please. It’s that or let him come with me,” I say. Xenith knows what happened. He knows my father tortured Thorne. Everyone does
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“That is not an option for so many reasons.”

“Why?” Xenith doesn’t answer me, and I can’t leave until I know Thorne is safe. “Then promise you’ll protect him. I love him.”

He laughs. It’s short and crisp and purposeful. He’s mocking me. “You’re branded to him. That’s not love, Neely. There’s a difference, I promise.”

I shake my head. I don’t know what he means, and I don’t care. I can’t leave Thorne here. Not alone. “I need to be certain he will be safe from my father while I’m gone. You’re the only one who can do that.”

Xenith is quiet. He and Thorne are far from friends, but will he risk Thorne’s life? If I’m not here, then no one will be able to stop my father-no one except Xenith. He moves with the book to the side of the table where he stood when I first entered, and he’s silent until he sets it on the table with a sigh
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“The cost for that, Neely, is too great.”

“What is it?” I ask, moving toward him. I’ll do anything to protect Thorne. Anything
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He looks up at me, his light hair falling in his face. It’s like he has control over those strands and the way they fall perfectly to half-cover his eyes. He moves to meet me in the dead space. He’s inches from my face, his warmth mingling with mine
.

“You.”

I huff and take a step back. He wants me? That is a joke. There’s no way he can be serious. Why would he want me?

But Xenith isn’t joking. “Me?”

“You.” He smiles, taking a step forward so he’s close. The heat of his body fuses with mine, and I can almost hear his heart beating. His breath brushes my skin, and I shudder. “Thorne is protected, and you’re trading yourself to me. Your life for his.”

I freeze, looking at him. Xenith doesn’t look fazed by the response, but my mind is racing. “You want to kill me?”

“No.”

I shake my head. This is insane. My life for Thorne’s- but he’s not going to kill me. What does he mean then? I shouldn’t have come here. I shouldn’t have given in. I can find another way. I turn away, and Xenith calls my name
.

“I’m not speaking of your death-your life is worth a great deal more than you know. I promise you that. And when I ask you, you have to hand your life over to me. Of course, even if you say no, it all still falls on your shoulders.”

I still don’t understand what he wants with me, and his half-answers are annoying. “What does?”

“There’s a change coming,” he says with a pause. “The Elders aren’t so happy with the way things are going. It’s been in talks for a while, but I know they’re going to act sooner rather than later.”

“Act how? What are you talking about?”

Xenith shakes his head. “I can’t lay all my cards out on the table. Not until you’ve decided what you’re willing to risk or stand up against.”

This is the chance. I can be free from the Compound, from my father, from all the things I’m supposed to be, but I’d have to give up Thorne. I’d have to leave him. To let him go. A pain forms in my chest at the thought, but leaving him is the only way I can keep him safe and stop the Elders
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My life for Thorne’s. If I stay, he’s taken from me-or worse. If I leave, I’m not with him, but at least he could live. That’s what matters. Him living. With or without me. That’s all that matters
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“I’ll do it,” I say. Even as I say the words, I push down my feelings of uncertainty. I’m losing Thorne by saying yes. Can I live without him?

His gaze freezes on me. “You really should take some time to consider-”

“I’ll do it,” I say again
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Xenith smiles and touches my cheek. His hand is warm, calloused, and rough as it rubs against the smooth skin of my cheek. The contrast sends another shiver down my spine, and I have to resist the urge to turn into it. I can’t want his hand on my face. I can’t want his fingers to caress me
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