The Decaying Empire (The Vanishing Girl Series Book 2) (28 page)

“Hey, don’t disrespect Susie like that. She was there for me when you weren’t.”

I removed the blanket draped around me and yelped when I realized that in addition to the shirt, I only wore a thong. “Oh my God, are you serious, Caden?”

My seat shook with his laughter. “Sorry, angel, but your pants were too tight.”

“So was my bra?”

He grunted. “Those things are hard enough for a dude to get
off
. Damn near impossible to put it on. Plus”—he eyed my chest—“the view wasn’t too bad.”

My lips parted and my cheeks flushed. “I am so getting you back for this.”

His deep, husky laughter started again. “I’m looking forward to it, angel.”

He was going to regret those words once I got through with him.

I looked out the window, watching land whisk by. “Where are we?”

“Still in Idaho.”

I cuddled Caden’s sweatshirt in my lap. His eyes flicked to the action, and a smirk tugged the corner of his lips. It melted away a moment later.

“Where did you go?” There was an edge to his voice.

I furrowed my brows at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Where did you go?” he repeated.

“I visited my dad.”

He exhaled. “Oh.”

Several realizations fell into place. “You thought I’d visited Adrian, didn’t you?”

He frowned but didn’t say anything.

“
And
you think I like him,” I said quietly.

“No.”

“Liar.”

His dimples emerged. “Okay, fine. I’m jealous—happy?” His expression darkened. “I just don’t trust the guy.”

“Why don’t you meet him first, and save your judgments until then?”

Caden scowled. “By then it might be too late.”

Caden pulled off the freeway a short while later—once I’d finished redressing myself—and we traded places in the car.

He held his arm out as I swabbed it, his cheeks dimpling as he watched me.

I looked up from my work and stared into those incredible eyes of his.

“Angel.” The nickname rolled off his lips like the sweetest endearment.

I squeezed his arm. “Don’t get hurt.”

He guffawed at that, but his lips twitched. Someone liked me fretting over him. He took my hand and intertwined his fingers with mine. “I won’t.” The surety in his voice placated me.

I grabbed a vial and syringe from our belongings and withdrew the sedative from its container.

It couldn’t be good to do this every day. My body felt a little off, my limbs heavy with exhaustion. We were underdosing ourselves, but even so it was foolish to think that we could keep doing this. Not to mention that the temperature would affect the sedative’s efficacy.

Caden’s free hand smoothed out my brow. “It’s going to be okay.”

My eyes met his; he willed me with his own to stay strong. My shoulders loosened and I nodded.

I slipped the needle into his skin, then released the sedative into his bloodstream. “I’ll see you in a few, Caden,” I said, withdrawing the syringe and taking his hand.

He closed his eyes. “It’s a date.”

I held his hand and watched his breathing even out. It was still a shock seeing him instantly disappear. Jarring. There was nothing gradual about it, no satisfying
poof
to accompany his absence.

I used those ten minutes to force a couple of tasteless protein bars down my throat and to study the GPS. We still had roughly twenty hours of driving before we hit the border to Mexico, not including all the stops we’d need to make for gas, more supplies, and new cars. So two days—maybe more if we actually stopped to rest.

The thought shot a bolt of fear through me. Two days was an eternity with the Project hot on our trail. Equally terrifying was the prospect of disappearing on the freeway, which was increasingly likely the longer I went without a good night’s sleep.

Caden’s naked body winked into existence next to me, and I jolted, my elbow banging painfully into the door. I cleared my throat, feeling sheepish. At least no one saw me.

Caden slept peacefully. My gaze swept over his exposed skin. He appeared unharmed, but that didn’t stop me from thoroughly examining him. My fingers traced his scars, and they lingered on the imprint at the back of his neck. Each was a reminder that there would only ever be one of him.

Once I’d checked him over, I pulled away. Wherever he went he’d come back unharmed, which meant that Project Retaliation was now officially underway.

I snatched a pair of underwear from my bag, smirking when I realized it was a thong. Even better.

I spent the next ten minutes dressing Caden in it and a pink tank top I’d picked up at our last store, snickering the entire time.

Payback’s a bitch.

By the time Caden woke up, we were in Nevada. He stretched, his muscles rippling.

“Mmm, hey, an—” He paused and glanced down. “What the—”

I pursed my lips to keep from laughing. “Pink really is your color,” I said. Laughter trickled out of me.

Caden cursed, ripping the tank off his torso and grabbing another shirt from our bags. He pulled the black T-shirt on, shaking his head and muttering under his breath. “Just so you know, I’m very secure in my sexuality. I can rock pink.”

“Trust me, I noticed.”

Caden relaxed back into his seat. “You are such a pun—” He paused a second time, his eyebrows rising.
“Angel.”
He turned to me. In Caden’s voice was a warning. “Why does it feel like my ass is getting flossed?”

Until now I’d managed to rein in my laughter, but at Caden’s words, it just sort of exploded out of me. I couldn’t speak; I could barely breathe around fits of it.

He lifted the blanket I’d covered him with and sucked in air. “Oh no you fucking
didn’t
.”

I doubled over the wheel, laughing while tears trickled out of my eyes.

Caden curled his lip as he stared in horror at his crotch. “That is just
wrong
.”

I caught my breath long enough to get one more jab in. “I never understood your obsession with thongs until I saw you in one.” And then I lost it again.

“Can’t even feel my legs. Your little panties are cutting off my circulation.”

Giggles still made it hard for me to talk, but I managed to flash him a pouty look. “Poor Caden.”

His eyes narrowed into slits, and his smile promised retribution. “You better start feeling sorry for yourself,” he said, his gaze flicking over me. My laughter died out at the gleam in his eyes; Caden’s thoughts weren’t PG-13 at the moment—not that they usually were. “This is war.”

CHAPTER 18

I
t wasn’t until we’d crossed the border from Nevada into California that anything unusual happened.

“Would you rather
. . .
eat raw bugs or rotten fish?” I asked, making a fake mustache with a lock of hair.

“Jesus, do I have to pick one?” Caden asked, his arm slung over the wheel.

“Duh,” I rolled my eyes. “That’s the whole point of the game.”

“Fine,” he huffed. “Then raw bugs.”

I scrunched my nose. “Eeeew.”

“You asked.”

“True.” I pulled my legs up to my chest and hugged them, wrapping the oversize sweater that smelled like stale perfume around them. The car we’d hot-wired a few hours ago came with a broken heater, and at three in the morning, the chilly night air seeped into the car.

I stifled a yawn, and Caden’s grip tightened on the wheel.

“We should stop for rest. You haven’t gotten enough sleep.”

Neither had he. We were both running on sheer force of will. The sedative-induced shut-eye we caught in the car wasn’t the same as sleeping in a bed.

“We can’t stay in one place for that long,” I said. We’d risk getting ambushed.

Caden’s lips pinched together, but he nodded. “So where were we?” he asked.

“Your turn,” I said, grabbing the blanket from one of our bags and covering myself with it.

“What’s your favorite childhood memory?” Caden asked, looking over at me.

“That’s not a would-you-rather question.”

Caden shrugged. “It’s an I-want-to-know-what-makes-you-happy question.”

I thought back to my childhood. Strange how little I’d thought about it. Back before I had any freaky abilities. I smiled. “My family and I lived in Texas for a couple of years, and the neighborhood I lived in had a ton of kids my age. During the summer we’d all hang out together, and our parents would take turns hosting these massive sleepovers. It was a never-ending party.”

The corner of Caden’s mouth tugged up. “That sounds nice.”

“It was.”

I smiled as I thought about it, and I wondered whether that tradition had continued. Had everyone remained close, or had they grown apart as they grew up? I’d never know.

My chest constricted; good memories had that bittersweet feel to them. You savor a shadow of the moment, but you’d never get the real thing again.

“How about you?” I asked, glancing over at him.

He appeared thoughtful. Finally he grinned, the smile lighting up his face. “My sisters used to dress me up.”

“And little Caden let them.”

His grin deepened and he relaxed into the seat, his free hand drumming against his thigh. “They got to dress me up in return for playing cowboys and aliens—which, by the way, they always got out of.”

“Naturally,” I agreed. “I already like your sisters.”

The smile he flashed me was sweet. “They’d like you too.”

Questionable—I was after all the girl with the giant tattoo running down my back. And I was the reason Caden’s life was now in danger.

We sped by a sign for a gas station, and Caden turned on the blinker as he approached the exit. We fell quiet as we pulled into the station. I hopped out of the car and stretched, my muscles tight. “I think I’m going to go for a jog. Want to join?” We’d been doing this when we could—trying to keep our muscles loose and our bodies in shape.

Caden stuck the pump’s nozzle into the gas tank and leaned against the car. “I’m down. You go ahead. I’ll catch up once this is filled. Maybe with that generous head start, you’ll even beat me this time.”

Punk. Too bad I kind of liked how he riled me up. I gave him the bird and began to jog backward.

“Better move fast,” Caden said. “Once I catch up to you, you’re getting spanked for that.” He nodded toward the offending finger.

“I’d like you see you try.”

I jogged away from him into the darkness. My feet carried me behind the gas station and into the dirt road beyond it. Out here in no-man’s-land, USA, there was plenty of space for a discreet run. I breathed in the crisp air, my lungs burning pleasantly from the sting of it.

I heard footfalls behind me, and I smiled, pushing my muscles faster.

Caden gained on me, as I knew he would. Eventually I’d give him a run for his money, but right now—with me still weak after being inert for so long—he was the swifter runner.

When he was nearly upon me, I twisted to face him.

Only it wasn’t Caden.

Jeff grabbed me around the waist and covered my mouth. I screamed and brought my elbow back, ready to slam it into him.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Ember,” he whispered against my ear, pressing my back to his front.

I paused but still squirmed against him.

“I have a camera and a mike on me,” he breathed, his words barely audible. “This needs to look convincing.”

If he thought I’d just let him manhandle me, then he was wrong, warning or not.

I slammed my foot down on his and repeatedly jammed my elbow into his ribs.

“Fuck, girl,” he gasped, releasing me. “Chill—”

Before he recovered I turned on him and kneed him in the gonads. He fell forward, reaching weakly for me, and I brought my elbow down on the back of his head, softer than I normally would.

The Project found us.
That thought repeated over and over in my head.

Jeff fell forward, and I caught his body, cushioning his fall. I crumpled to the ground with him and straightened his body out, feeling his pulse. It was there, as strong as ever. He might not even be passed out.

I’d realized as soon as Jeff didn’t fight back that he’d wanted me to rough him up—not the other way around. I hoped my weak moves were convincing enough.

I cradled his head and shoulders in my lap and reached for his hand. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I’m taking care of him the best I can. And I hope to see you again, friend.”

Jeff’s hand lightly squeezed mine, and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep my expression blank.

The smack of heels against the ground closed in on me.

“Ember?” Caden stopped in his tracks when he caught sight of Jeff. He looked horrified.

At the sound of Caden’s voice, Jeff’s hand tightened on mine, and then he released it. He couldn’t have said it more clearly.
Go
.

I carefully disentangled myself. “We need to leave.” My heart pounded in my chest out of fear for Jeff. If the Project found out that he’d helped us, he could face the same fate I had.

I jogged up to Caden, and together we began running to the car—long, controlled strides. It said something about Caden’s level of trust in me that he didn’t question my words or hesitate.

Once we were well out of earshot, I spoke. “Jeff’s okay. He didn’t even try to hurt me.”

Caden nodded almost imperceptibly, his eyes glittering as he pieced together what had happened. And I understood. You never knew the depth of a friendship until it was tested. Jeff clearly would be there for Caden through thick and thin. I hoped he wouldn’t be punished for helping us.

We rounded the gas station and jumped into the car. Caden cranked the engine, and we peeled out of the parking lot.

We’d just merged in front of a semi when we heard it: a thump beneath our car.

I grabbed the dashboard and caught my breath.

Caden swore, looking over his shoulder. “Teleporter.”

He’d barely spoken when we heard the squeal of breaks, followed by a sickening thud.

I chanced a glance behind us. My stomach rolled. Blood and something thicker stained the semi’s front grill. A small sob escaped me and I covered my mouth.

“We need to stop,” I said when I found my voice.

“Angel, you and I both know it’s too late for them.”

I did, but it seemed wrong to just keep driving. I ran my hands through my hair and squeezed my eyes shut. “Why would they send someone in after I took down Jeff? Why? They had to know we were running.” Someone had just
died
. There was no doubt in my mind that I was a dead woman if the Project caught me.

Caden shook his head, his hands white-knuckling the steering wheel. Red ringed his eyes, and I realized that it could’ve been a friend of his.

We sat in oppressive silence for a long time. My skin crawled and my insides rioted against me. I couldn’t make heads or tails about my feelings. Guilty, angry, frightened.

Caden pulled over to the side of the road.

“Caden, what are you—”

He silenced me with a kiss. And suddenly my entire focus honed in on the action, plunged headfirst into this pure, uncomplicated sensation. My pulse jackhammered, and as my hand ran over Caden’s shoulders and down his chest, I felt the rapid-fire pounding of his own heart.

He pulled me onto his lap and cradled me like I was something precious. Caden leaned his forehead against mine, his thumbs softly stroking me.

We stayed like that for maybe a minute. Not talking, just touching, comforting. And then I slid off Caden’s lap, and he pulled back onto the road.

“Richards knew we’d stop there for gas.”

I ran my hands through my hair. How had he found us? My eyes fell upon the GPS system resting on the dashboard.

I rolled down the window.

Caden glanced over. “What are—”

Before he could finish his sentence, I snatched the GPS device and chucked it into the night.

“Were you planning on checking with me before you tossed our road map out the window?”

“No—obviously.”

He grumbled. “It’s called communication, angel.”

I opened the compartment in front of me and pulled out the map I’d seen earlier. “It’s called paper.” We’d been lazy and careless, using that GPS when we could’ve stuck to a map. Like using a calculator when we could work out a math problem on our own.

His eyes cut to me. “It wasn’t the GPS,” he said.

I looked over at him.

“We’re leaving a trail with our stolen cars. The government simply watched interstate crime along major highways and discovered our pattern.”

And our trajectory.

So they knew we’d stolen cars. It wasn’t a huge leap in logic to assume that they now knew I stuck to hot-wiring older models.

But how did they know when and where to ambush us?

Realization smacked me upside the head. Few cities rested along this stretch of highway. That gas station was the first we’d seen in miles. All they had to do was lie in wait and see if we’d pull in. Then they’d ambush us.

They now knew the scariest information of all: that we were heading toward them.

We had no choice but to stick to the main highway until we hit the Sierra Nevadas. I half expected the authorities to close in on us, so when no one did, relief and unease warred within me.

I almost cried when I saw the snowcapped mountain range; it symbolized the gates back to California. Home.

Once we hit the mountains, Caden cruised through back roads, zigzagging our way into the state. When we passed through Tahoe, Caden turned down one of the streets.

We needed another car, a shower, and supplies. There were vacation homes up here, which meant people who wouldn’t miss their things for some time.

After driving around for about an hour, we came upon a promising neighborhood. Most of the cabins that lined the street looked empty.

Caden pulled up to one that looked expensive but had no obvious cameras or security system in place. He jutted his chin out. “What do you think about that one?”

I narrowed my eyes as I studied the house. Two stories, large windows, a huge balcony in front, and what looked like an even larger terrace out back. Judging by the weathered wood facade and the cracking driveway, this home had long been someone’s property. Someone with older kids, judging by the basketball hoop, with its faded backboard and droopy rim.

“Rich family—they have kids, maybe two or three of them. But those kids are probably teenagers or adults now. They come here in the summers.”

“How do you figure?” Caden asked.

I pointed to the well-loved basketball hoop. “Hard to play when it’s freezing.”

“They could live here year-round.”

I looked over the house again. My gut told me that the place was unlived in, but I checked for actual signs. A thin layer of dust covered the door and windows; pine needles littered the walkway. I shook my head. “I think you chose well. This place is empty.”

“Hmm,” was all Caden said, but he had a smug grin on his face.

I left the car and headed to the back of the house, looking for a rear entrance. Breaking and entering was best done away from prying eyes.

I tried the cabin’s windows while Caden worked on a door that led to the garage. All were locked. Smart family.

I headed back to Caden, who had just picked the lock. The door swung open, and I followed him into the dimly lit garage.

Once our eyes adjusted, I took in my surroundings.

No car. But there was something else.

Caden whistled low. “Now,
that
is what I’m talking about.”

That
was a motorcycle. Caden walked up to it and lovingly ran a hand along one side.

“Do you know how to drive one of those things?” I asked. Not that it mattered. We’d wasted enough time finding this place. It would have to do.