Forget Me Not (22 page)

We stand like frozen statues in the bull’s-eye, his gaze flicking across my face, making my tummy flutter. Surely he’s not nervous. This is Jax. He doesn’t know what the word nervous means. He extends two fingers on his left hand to my wrist and taps the node once, twice, three times.

“Stop!” Beau bursts from the narrow stairwell, but it’s too late. Jax taps the fourth time.

We fall.

Downwards, like leaves from a tree floating to the ground. Still not understanding how I can see him while we port, the thought slips from my mind as I focus on his face instead of the blackness. The feeling of being all alone, just the two of us in a vast sea of nothing, reminds me of our kiss. He scans the darkness, searching for what, I’m not sure. It gives me the chance to watch him. A small white scar shaped like a crescent cuts through his left eyebrow, so fine it’s barely noticeable.

It’s over. The floating, dreamy sway ends with my stomach in my throat.

We sink.

His face contorts in an odd expression like he’s holding in the need to vomit.

We land in a thick copse of bushes.

“What’s so funny?” he asks.

I force my mouth into straightness. “The last little bit’s unpleasant, eh?”

“Roller coasters and porting, they’re the same. Just the last bit makes me want to puke.”

A giggle bubbles in my throat, but I stifle it with a hand to my mouth. Better not laugh at the first sign of him showing friendship, sharing a tiny piece of himself.

The bubble escalates into a gurgle, and I can’t help the laugh bursting through my lips. “You puke on roller coasters?”

“All the up and down, round and round. It’s unnatural for people to move like that.”

I try to force my mouth to stay straight, but it’s no use. I can’t stop laughing.

“They’re stupid things. Who wants to feel like that anyway?” He raises a loose fist and pretends to punch me in the arm.

I clutch the stitch in my side while he strolls away. Taking long, slow breaths, I pull myself together and stride to catch up.

“Sorry.” I force down a smile. “You should have seen the look on your face.”

“Can’t take your eyes off me, can you?”

I roll my eyes. He thinks he’s so hot, like I check him out every chance I can. The tip of my tongue burns with the desire to say I wasn’t looking, but that’s a lie, and we both know it. I pull at my impossibly tight shirt, trying to drag it away from my body while he ambles down the path, chuckling.

His quick comebacks remind me of Dad. Mom used to complain that he enjoyed making her squirm. An image of Dad, curled up in a ball in the corner of a dim, dark prison with rats scurrying around him flashes into my mind. My stomach sinks. No food, no water, no warmth. We are his hope. I suck in a sharp breath and expel it as a whimper.

Jax appears at my side, his hand sliding into mine with a squeeze. “We’ll get him out, I promise.”

We will. I believe him.

With Jax’s help, I can rescue Dad. We can do this and, no matter what happens, Dad and I will be together. My stomach turns upside down, but this is too important. I push the nervousness away. I need to be strong. Something about Will coming along just doesn’t feel right either. I can’t quite put my finger on it; maybe I’m worried for him too. Worried he’ll get hurt or get in the way trying to keep me safe from danger.

Jax squeezes my hand again, bringing me back from my thoughts. We’re in another park. A long, wide, straight footpath disappears into far-off trees. Each side of it is lined with tall elms whose branches reach over the path, creating an abundance of dappled shade. This must be the Avenue of Elms. Park benches dot each side of the path like flowers. I glance all the way along, but I can’t see anyone who looks like Will or Lilly.

“They’re not here.”

“They’ll be a while yet. Maybe half hour.” Jax lowers himself on the closest green bench and leans forward, resting his head in his hands. He looked so tired this morning, like he hadn’t slept in days. He must feel even worse by now. I sink onto the cold, hard bench beside him.

“What are you grinning at?” I ask him.

Jax looks up, the biggest smirk I’ve ever seen dancing on his lips. He nods toward
the bands on my wrist. “Pity we only get one jump with those things. We’ll be jumping back into the basement, and Beau—” His words are cut short by laughter. “Did you see the look on his face?”

I smile, and secretly hope they don’t come to try and stop us.

We sit for a long time, neither of us speaking. His back rises and falls with each breath. Maybe he dozed off. I glance around the park, which seems like it’s a popular escape from the city. Parents watch their children playing on the green lawn, men and women dressed in lycra jog along the path, and dogs yank on their leads, walking their owners.

Finally, Jax sits up and relaxes back into the seat.

“Did you sleep last night?” I ask.

He shrugs and doesn’t answer. It must mean it’s not worth talking about. I open my mouth, and the first thought to cross my mind blurts out. “You can fight, you’re wicked with a blade, you get a rush out of danger, Ace loves you to bits, and you don’t like roller coasters. Tell me more about you.”

He raises an eyebrow and looks at me like I’ve gone as crazy as Al. Oh my God, I think I have, that was so lame. I need to give it a better shot.

“Come on. If we have to wait for half an hour, I need to distract myself with something or I’ll go insane.” I reach up and clutch at my pendant. “How did you come to be with the resistance?”

“My parents dumped me there,” he says with as much interest as if he’s telling me he just ate pancakes for lunch. “What about you, what happened to your mother?” He glances down the wide avenue.

“She disappeared when I was eight.” I swallow past the lump in my throat, searching for the words to continue. If I want him to open up, maybe I need to first. “Dad came home from work, I came home from school, and she was gone.” I stare at the ground and scuff my boot along it.

He nods to the pendant clutched between my fingers. “That cover-up, it’s hers?”

“Yeah.”

“Did she know what it is? It could explain her disappearance.”

Wow. Why didn’t I think of that? Perhaps she was a resistance member or maybe, like me, she used it, not knowing it was tech? Did an agent come and take her away
… no, she only had half. Crazy Al’s had the brooch. Just the pendant belonged to her. So it can’t be what happened. This was supposed to be about him, not me. Time to turn the conversation back around.

“I don’t know. Where are your parents now?”

He doesn’t fall for my trick. Instead he pokes me in the side with a long finger. Warmth shoots from the place where he touched, seeps into my stomach, chest, and neck.

“Stop it.” I giggle.

I jab my finger out toward him, but he jumps away, too quick for me. I stab at him again, but it’s like trying to catch a springing grasshopper—impossible. Once more, but he grabs my wrists and pins my arms. I pretend to struggle against his grip. Laughing, I look up, and his gaze traps mine, traps me. His exquisite green eyes dance with fun. The brown flecks draw me into a separate world held within them. The tip of his tongue slides over his bottom lip. I lean in toward him, a funny fluttering in my chest. My lips don’t quite touch his. He pulls back, sliding to the seat’s far end.

My throat aches, tightens, making it difficult to swallow. Dark spots dance in front of my eyes. “You’re so damn difficult to read, Jax,” I say. “Make up your mind about what you want.”

“Fine.” His eyes widen till the green irises seem tiny, his brow furrows, and his gaze drops. He walks away down the elm-lined path.

Hands stuffed in his
pockets, Jax paces up and down the elm-lined avenue, looking straight ahead, ignoring me like I don’t exist. The wall between us slammed higher than ever. It’s my own stupid fault. I shouldn’t have expected him to react any different. Why would he want to talk about anything ‘real’ now, when he hasn’t before?

Relief softens my body when Will and Lilly’s silhouettes emerge from the shadows at the far end of the path. Thank God they’re finally here. They have to be well over three quarters of an hour late. Sure enough when I check my watch, it’s just after one fifteen. I’d recognize Will anywhere; the shape of his outline, his long strides, the way his body jostles from side to side as he walks. Strong, honest, reliable, that’s my Will.

“Been here long?” he asks.

“Long enough.” I glance at Jax walking toward us.

“What’s the plan?” Lilly says.

“Good question.” I nod at Jax, who slides back down onto the park bench. “Ask him.”

An all-knowing, worried expression clouds Lilly’s face. She knows something’s not right. I shake my head just enough for her to pick up that now’s not the time. Jax’s face is set in an expressionless mask.

“What happened here?” Will says.

I shoot him a glare. “Nothing.”

The corners of Will’s mouth turn upward a little like he’s trying not to smile.

“The Council building is over there.” Jax points to an old one-story building with a high-pitched roof. Its true facade is hidden under modern beige rendering like an architectural facelift. Just another administration office blending in with the other buildings.

Lilly points to words rising in an arc across the front. “What’s that mean?”

“Bonum commune communitatis.” The foreign words roll off Jax’s tongue fluidly. “For the common good of the community.”

Lilly huffs and rolls her eyes. “Typical controlling, freakish, think they know what’s best for…
.” Her face puckers. “Everyone.”

Jax picks at a loose thread on his pants and mumbles under his breath, “Navigating is simple once we’re inside. There are rooms on ground level, but we need to go below, to the underground levels where they usually hold prisoners.”

A prisoner. Is that what Dad is? Please, no… but he is. I gulp and push away the images which rush into my mind. Focus is what I need if I’m going to help him.

“How do you know that?” Lilly asks.

“Past lives, old missions, you know.” A small half-smile steals onto Jax’s lips.

“Did you get weapons?” The thin edge of impatience rests in Will’s tone.

“We can’t do that here.” Jax’s gaze takes in all the people walking by, and he’s right. It’s a busy park, especially in the early afternoon. Office workers are taking lunch and people enjoy the sunshine.

He steps out, and we follow, looking for somewhere safe.

Dense bushes bunch together near a small rock cliff. There’s just enough space for us all to squish in hunched over. The area’s secluded, so there’s no way anyone can see in. Will folds back low-lying branches, making more room in the small space. The smell of leaves and dirt and dampness hang in the air, magnified by a thin line of water trickling down the rock face. Jax delves into his backpack and pulls out the same sheathed dagger I carried when we attempted to expose The Collective. He holds it out to me and, with his head down, continues to paw through the bag.

I close my hand around the cool metal, secure the sheath around my arm with buckled straps, and jiggle it around, trying to pull it out fast. It snags on the sleeve of my coat. It won’t do. I need a smooth draw.

He passes Lilly a long, thin dagger which she slides into her boot, followed by another and another. Four of them she secretes around her person. Sweet, kind Lilly, armed like an assassin. The vision brings a smile, not at all what I envisioned. She’s tough.

Jax pulls something which looks like a cross between a mace and a police baton out of the bag. Its thick, wooden handle with inlaid grip extends almost half a meter. The end balloons out and comes together to create several ridges which project at right angles, forming a collar around the top. Will holds his hand out. Jax raises a brow and hands the odd weapon over. Will moves it from one hand to the other, weighing it.

“Nice. I tried one of these in training,” he says. “The stun capabilities are excellent.”

Jax’s eyes come to life like Marcus when he talks tech. “It’s an impressive weapon. Really effective if you hit the right spot.”

Will nods with a huge grin as he sticks the macelike weapon through a loop in his belt. Why can’t they get on like this more often? It’s so much better than butting heads. Some weapons, the threat of danger, is that what it takes?

Jax straps a sheathed blade to his leg, places a second around his forearm, and delves into the backpack again, extracting the small drawstring bag.

“A gift from Marcus.” He tosses a fabric ball to each of us. “Pull it over your clothes, and it’ll form a protective shield.”

“I didn’t know we had protect-its.” Lilly steps into the fishnet material and draws it on like a whole body stocking.

I pull mine on over my clothes. It sits against me, tight and restrictive like a pair of new jeans. The pinkish fishnet material stands out against my clothes for a few seconds before it shimmers and the pink darkens, changing to the same blue as my denim. The tightness eases off a little at a time until it’s like it’s not even there.