The Decaying Empire (The Vanishing Girl Series Book 2) (17 page)

I stood inside what looked to be a palatial guest room. Four-poster bed, silk sheets, marble statues, an antique piano, and a mural-covered ceiling.

If I wasn’t in a palace, then I was in the home of a very rich individual.

Slinky material caressed my body as I began to move. I glanced down and took in the red dress I wore. It was the most obvious clue that I was supposed to distract someone. Seduce them.

I carried nothing else on me, but surely I’d been sent here with a note. This situation screamed
espionage
.

I ran my hands down my torso, smiling grimly when I heard the rustle of paper in my bodice. Reaching down into my cleavage, I retrieved a folded-up note, this one much bigger than the others had been.

Make contact with the Ukrainian president, Borys Vasylenko.

Below the typed message was an image of the president. Oh, he was
not
a looker.

The sound of clinking glassware and muted laughter drifted in. If I had to guess, I’d say that Borys was among the guests out there.

After memorizing the face, I folded the note and returned it to my cleavage. A typed note and a grainy photo; the Project always sent simple handwritten notes. Further proof that some third party was sending me on these missions.

Now I had a choice, I could either stay in here—

The doorknob turned, and a moment later a middle-aged man and a woman wearing far too much makeup stumbled into the room, giggling and whispering in some Eastern European language. Fuchsia lipstick smudged the man’s neck and shirt collar. Not that he cared. He seemed to be thoroughly interested in getting as much of her in his palms as possible.

So much for my choices. I cleared my throat. Both must’ve been somewhat inebriated, because they looked only slightly embarrassed.

I gave them a tight smile and walked past them, noting the man’s wedding band and the woman’s distinct lack of one. Sometimes people were so regrettably predictable.

I could still try finding another room to hole up in until my ten minutes were done, but why not drink some champagne, stir up some trouble, and live a little? I’d only be here for a few more minutes.

The note crinkled in my bodice as my heels clicked against the marble floor. Should I follow the instructions given to me like a good little teleporter? Last time I did so, I’d had to point a gun at my own head, and the time before that, I’d been shot at and spliced.

Perhaps it was time to ignore the instructions.

I entered a grand ballroom, and again I was struck by the building’s opulence. Gilded moldings, marble floors, elaborate chandeliers. Such a stark contrast to the situation I’d just left. I discreetly rubbed my temples. Once again I had no idea exactly when or where I’d wake up.

I grabbed a champagne flute off a passing tray and drank deeply, eyeing my surroundings in greater detail. In between columns and ferns, people stood in small clusters, chatting over alcohol. The voices that filtered in seemed to be a mixture of English and some Eastern European tongue.

My revelers eyed me back—some with disdain, others with interest. As I skimmed over the faces, Borys caught my attention. He was already staring at me, and his gaze said plainly that he found me to his liking. I took another gulp of champagne and averted my eyes.

“You look lost.” An older man appeared at my side.

This was the funny thing about my looks. I was maybe attractive, but I also had an innocent look, like I needed protecting. Every so often at a large gathering, some older man would step out of the crowd and try to assist me. Sometimes it was genuine concern, and sometimes, like now, it was interest masked as concern.

It didn’t help that the man’s eyes kept returning to my cleavage.

“Antonia.” I said the first name that came to mind and held out my hand.

“Sergi.” He took my hand, pressing a wet kiss to the back of it. “I never saw you enter,” he said, releasing my hand.

I discreetly wiped it off on my dress. “You must not have been looking hard enough.”

“Did you come with someone?” he probed.

These questions always got me into trouble.

“Why?” I asked, challenging him. “Are you interested in whether I snuck in uninvited?” I made sure to smile teasingly at him because, technically, he could be thinking that, and technically, he’d be right.

Sergi laughed. “I couldn’t imagine a lady like you ever sneaking in anywhere she didn’t belong.”

If only he knew.

“You merely looked as though you’d misplaced your . . .” Sergi’s voice died away, and his eyes moved to something just over my shoulder. Around me I heard several gasps.

My arms prickled as I turned.

Caden stood behind me, clad in a form-fitting shirt and jeans. Clearly, he hadn’t been sent here intentionally.

“Ember?” he said, his brows furrowing in confusion. His eyes moved over my dress, to the champagne flute in my hand, then to my older companion.

Whoever arranged this mission had never intended for me to bring a stowaway. My heart thawed a little, knowing that Caden had journeyed here solely because I’d been his last thought.

People were staring. Some had seen him appear out of thin air. Even if they hadn’t, his clothes were way too casual.

Sensing this exact thing, he turned to the crowd around us and bowed, as though the whole situation was carefully orchestrated for the group’s entertainment. A smattering of applause and several confused looks followed.

Caden gave me a final, meaningful look, and then he left.

My eyes watched him retreat down the same hall I’d exited from when I arrived.

“Sergi, who is your delightful friend?”

I swiveled away from Caden, toward the deep, accented voice. I only barely managed to suppress my groan. Borys.

The moment our eyes had met across the room had lasted seconds at most, but sometimes that was all it took. Sometimes a moment could tilt the world on its axis.

“Um, excuse me for a moment,” I said, nodding to the two men.

My heels clicked against the marble as I retraced Caden’s footsteps. I downed the rest of the champagne, placing my empty flute on a passing waiter’s tray.

Caden lounged against a nearby wall. “This another one of your missions, angel?” he asked, pushing away from it.

I glanced behind me, in case someone had followed either of us. “I don’t know what this is, but yeah, if I had to guess, I’d say it was a mission.”

Caden took my hand, leading me farther down the hall. “And your instructions?”

“I was supposed to meet the portly dude you saw me with.”

“Borys Vasylenko, Ukraine’s president.” He knew him. “So you followed through on your instructions?” he asked.

I huffed out a laugh. “No, he sort of sought me out.”

“Of course he did.” Caden gazed down at me, and his dimples came out. “You’re going to give that man the heart attack he doesn’t need.”

“So where exactly are we going?”

“Somewhere private.” Caden tried one of the doors. Locked. We walked a little farther, and he tried another. This one opened, and Caden squired me in.

Inside was another palatial suite—thankfully an empty one.

“We’re going to talk about this bad habit of yours where you get yourself into dangerous situations,” Caden said, shutting the door behind us. “Just not now.”

I turned to face him. “What are you—”

He backed me up against the closed door and captured my mouth with his. His hand ran along my neck and cradled my head, tilting it and deepening the kiss.

I silently apologized to the couple I’d judged only minutes ago. This was wholly worth the embarrassment of getting caught.

My fingers dipped under Caden’s shirt, stroking the toned muscle beneath it.

Caden’s hand slid up one of my legs, and he groaned into my mouth. “They make slits like this”—he fingered the fabric near my thigh—“solely to kill grown men.”

“Do you think we have time . . . ?” Now,
this
was something I’d never done during a ten-minute trip.

Caden broke off the kiss, his eyes smoldering. “Angel, have I ever told you that I like the way you think?” He dipped down, wrapping his arms around my back and behind my knees. I let out a little squeak when he picked me up. “No, I don’t think I have,” he said, answering his own question.

He carried me to the bed and set me down upon it, backing up long enough to drink me in. “Yep. I’ve always loved the way you look on beds.”

“That’s because you have a dirty, dirty mind.”

“Not denying that, angel,” he said, flashing me a wicked grin.

He draped himself over my body.

“Hi,” I said, staring up at him.

“Hi, beautiful.”

Oh-so-carefully he brushed my hair away from my face. Caden had only just leaned in to brush a kiss against my lips when someone tried the knob. Caden sighed, leaning his forehead against mine. “Typical,” he breathed.

They pounded on the door, a man speaking in some Eastern European language.

“Do you have any idea what he’s saying?” I whispered to Caden.

“Not a clue.”

We waited a little while longer, until eventually the man left.

My lips twitched. “There’s a chance we just cock-blocked some hairy old dude.”

Caden’s cheeks dimpled, and we began laughing.

Once I caught my breath, I fingered the satin comforter beneath me, noticing that I wore the mother of all ruby rings. If one didn’t know better, they’d think I belonged in this world. “I never imagined this would be my life,” I said.

Caden shook his head, the humor from his eyes draining away. “Neither did I, angel.”

CHAPTER 11

I
woke up and took in the wood ceiling above me. I hadn’t realized someone was holding my hand until I felt their grip tighten.

I turned my head. Caden lay at my side, his unreadable eyes already watching me. We gazed at each other for a long moment, not saying anything.

“We’re here, aren’t we?” I finally said.

He nodded, not looking away.

Nothing more needed to be said. We’d have to start over, here in this new state.

“They already suspect that we will try to run,” Caden said.

I nodded. I remembered Dane’s face right before we’d been sedated.

“They’ll try to stop us from leaving,” he said.

I searched his face. “How do you think they’ll go about it?”

Caden’s head swiveled to face the ceiling. “Not through violence. This is a peaceful facility. I think
. . .
they’re hoping for something a bit more
. . .
natural to happen.”

I furrowed my brows. “Natural?”

He turned back to me. “I think they’re hoping you’ll get pregnant.”

Oh.

“But that wouldn’t . . .” I let my voice trail off. I was going to say that it wouldn’t change anything. But it would. It was one thing to risk my life, another to put someone who depended on me in danger.

I used the palm of my free hand to rub my forehead. “Fuck.”

Caden grunted his agreement.

“I’m guessing they don’t offer contraceptives here?”

Caden gave a humorless laugh. “Would you trust them if they did?”

Hell to the no. God, the Project was nefarious.

Caden rubbed a hand over his face. “I never imagined having this conversation so soon, but
. . .
you don’t want kids yet, do you?”

I almost laughed at his terrified expression. “Um, no. I mean, I will one day, but . . .” The idea of having a kid under these circumstances was incomprehensible. “Definitely not anytime in the near future.”

Caden blew out a breath, his body relaxing. “So we’re on the same page,” he said.

“Just to be clear,” Caden continued, “you can still trust me when it comes to this. We’ll just abstain. I can control myself—I think.” He said this last part with a wolfish smile, and I reluctantly grinned back at him, giving his hand a squeeze.

Our plan to escape was still in place, even if the romance would need to be put on hold. Shouldn’t be too difficult; I’d spent a whole ten months celibate after all.

I pushed myself off the bed, noticing that I wore only a T-shirt and stretchy shorts. Next to me Caden was clad in sweats and a white shirt. We’d been drugged, dressed, and shipped off.

The idea of being manhandled made my skin crawl. I rubbed my arms and took in my surroundings. I’d been lying on a king-size bed covered in a steel-gray comforter. On the bedside table next to me rested a lamp, an alarm clock, and a Bible.

If I didn’t know better, I’d say we’d woken up in a hotel room.

Paintings hung along the walls—one of a flower arrangement, another of rolling hills. Tasteful but soulless. An armoire rested against one wall. I walked over to it and opened the drawers. All empty.

Still on the bed, Caden slid an arm behind his head, the fingers of his free hand absently skimming down his sternum. He seemed content watching me explore.

I wandered over to the closet and opened it. Also empty, save for a plastic bag of spare bolts someone had stashed in a corner. The entire room smelled of fresh paint, and the throw rug beneath my bare feet had the squishy feel of new carpet.

“It’s all new.”

Crossing the room, I headed to the bathroom. It too carried the sharp scent of recent construction. I turned on the faucet in the sink, noticing the discolored water that shot from the spout. The place was new and unlived in.

I padded back into the bedroom. Caden no longer rested on the bed. Instead he stood in front of one of the windows. Weak, dappled light streamed into the room.

I stepped up next to him and peered out into our new world. Evergreen trees stretched beyond our window. I spotted a cabin off in the distance, but the foliage largely obscured it. Moss and ferns covered much of the ground between trees. Uncovered patches of earth were a rich coffee color.

Green and brown as far as the eye could see.

“Dane really sent us out here,” Caden said. His voice held a note of disbelief.

“Fucking prick,” I muttered.

Caden turned to me, raising an eyebrow.

“What?” I asked innocently. “It needed to be said.”

He huffed out a laugh and ran a hand through his hair. “In under a month I’ve gone from believing you were dead to shacking up with you in the Montana wilderness. This is
. . .
surreal.”

I glanced around the room. “So this is our place?”

Caden frowned. “I think so.”

I took his hand. “Then let’s explore.”

It turned out to be a short tour of the house. There was only one other bedroom, and it too came furnished.

“Jesus,” I breathed. My goose bumps were back.

A nursery. There was a very real possibility that I was going to be sick. I bet Dane was laughing his ass off at the moment.

Behind me Caden pried my hand from the doorknob and gently tugged me out of the room, closing the door behind him. He gave me a meaningful look. “This door stays shut.”

I raised my hands. “Not arguing.”

He shuffled me away from the room, his hand unconsciously stroking my arm.

“You really weren’t kidding when you told me that teleporters came here to start families,” I said. I couldn’t get the image of that room out of my head.

“No, I wasn’t.”

We left the room and headed downstairs, entering a living room. It had the cozy feel of a cabin. The floor was a rich hardwood, but a throw rug covered most of it. A fireplace was nestled in one corner, along with a stack of wood. A poker rested next to it.

Potential weapon,
I thought before I could help it.

Next to the door rested a series of cardboard boxes. I went over to one and opened it. Inside were stacks of Caden’s folded clothes and several books I recognized from his bookcase. They’d packed and mailed us our belongings. How thoughtful. Not.

Outside, I heard the distant squeal of a child.

“That,” I said, standing up and facing Caden, “is so not cool.”

His lips twitched in response.

I brushed past him and entered the kitchen. The first thing I noticed were the knives in a wooden block on the counter—more obvious weapons. I didn’t have to wonder what that said about my personality.

Caden swiped a piece of paper that had been propped against a coffee machine.

“‘Dear Caden and Ember,’” he read, “‘Welcome to the Montana Family Facility. We are excited to welcome you to our home.’”

“Well, aren’t they touchy-feely?” I mumbled, opening drawers and cabinets.

“‘We all look forward to getting to know you both, and we invite you to a welcome party, which will be hosted out at the main fire pit tonight at seven o’clock p.m. See the map for directions. Until then, please enjoy the champagne.’” He paused. “We are especially excited for you two to hump like bunnies—”

“It does
not
say that,” I said, turning and snatching the slip of paper out of Caden’s hands.

“Might as well,” Caden said, leaning back against the counter and crossing his arms. “They just want us to get drunk and take advantage of one another.”

I sighed. We were never supposed to be here.

“Hey.” Caden stepped forward and lifted my chin. “Where’s the scary-ass girl I fell in love with?”

I bared my teeth at him in a halfhearted snarl.

“Still not very ferocious,” he said, suppressing a smile. He let go of my chin to grab my hips and hoist me onto the counter.

While he was distracted, I seized a knife from the wooden block and lifted it to his throat. “How about now?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

His hands slid over my thighs. “Okay, too ferocious. Much, much too ferocious.”

I lowered the knife, smirking. Caden’s eyes drifted to my lips. “But hot.” He gave his head a slight shake. “Fuck me, keeping my hands to myself is going to be agonizing.”

My lips parted as my eyes lowered. Self-control wasn’t exactly either of our strong suits.

A knock came from the front door, interrupting us. Giving me a heated look, Caden stepped away and sauntered to the door. I hopped off the counter and followed him, catching up just in time to see who waited on the other side.

My eyes widened. Eric and Serena stood on our front porch.

“Ember!” the blonde girl squealed. And then she was hugging me.

I hesitantly returned the embrace, patting her on the back. I hadn’t known Serena that well, so her reaction set me on edge. Next to us palms slapped and backs thumped as Caden and Eric greeted each other.

Serena slipped out of my arms and into Caden’s. After kissing his cheek, she said, “I cried when I heard she came back!”

“Yeah, I did too—like a frigging baby,” Caden said. The two were smiling like goofs.

My eyes found Eric, who now stood off to the side. He tipped his head at me and smiled, his expression friendly, open. But his eyes told a different story. My own polite grin melted away when I saw the shadows that lurked at the back of them.

I drew in a ragged breath, yet I couldn’t seem to get enough air into my lungs. Was that what I looked like when I wasn’t aware of it?

“Do you guys want to come in?” Caden asked, interrupting my thoughts.

Eric’s gaze moved from me to Caden. “Naw, we thought we’d just hang out on your cold-ass porch,” he said. Sarcasm. It so conflicted with what I saw in his eyes. But now that I got another look at him, the shadows had dissipated.

I stared at Eric’s back as he and Serena entered the cabin.

He might act like everything was okay, but my eyes hadn’t deceived me.

Eric carried some darkness of his own. Death had not completely shaken its hold on him.

Nor on me.

“It’s so, so great to see you both!” Serena said, taking a seat on one of the couches. Eric followed suit, sitting close to her.

“Uh
. . .
want something to eat?” I asked, not sure how this host thing went.

“Angel, do we even have food in our fridge?” Caden asked, sitting down on the other couch and quirking a brow.

I shrugged. “No clue.”

Serena laughed. “We’re good,” she said.

Caden patted the seat next to him. “C’mere, beautiful.”

I made my way to the couch and gingerly sat down.

Caden and Serena quickly struck up a conversation, leaving me to study our guests. Eric leaned back on the couch, lazily listening. A troubled look clouded his eyes.

Serena’s hands moved, and her whole face lit up as she spoke. She seemed to be the very essence of happiness. My eyes moved to Caden, whose rapt attention was focused on her.

At some point I couldn’t take it anymore. I got up and went into the kitchen, half of me ready to open the champagne here and now and chug it down. After the week I’d had, I could use something to take the edge off. Instead of grabbing the champagne, I ended up leaning down with my arms against the kitchen counter and staring out the window.

“It’s hard pretending after everything, isn’t it?”

I whipped around, startled to see Eric standing in the doorway. I swallowed, and then nodded as I collected myself. “So hard,” I agreed, my voice barely a whisper.

“What did you do to get yourself on their shit list?”

My eyes darted around the room, looking for cameras or listening devices.

“What’s the use keeping the silence?” Eric said, noticing my concern. “They already know what we’ve done, and we’ve already been punished.”

My eyebrows rose. “You mean you also tried to expose them?”

Eric nodded. “I was feeding information about the Project to an investigative journalist I’d met.” He took several steps inside the kitchen. “The Project destroyed the evidence, roughed up the journalist, and . . .” Eric lifted up his shirt, exposing the jagged scars that crisscrossed his body. I touched my own stomach as I stared, and he added, “They spliced me.”

I lowered my voice. “Why don’t more try to expose the Project?” These were dangerous words to voice here, but Eric’s nonchalance brought out my fearlessness.