They couldn’t stop the violent rampage now, but they didn’t have to watch it happen.
Hernan quietly opened a door and the silent objectors passed through it one by one.
Connor stood watch over Hernan until only he, Ethan, and Shiloh remained.
“You should come with us,” Connor told the Weaver. “Once Anika has been updated, we’ll send a team back to deal with this.”
Hernan shook his head and pointed at the house. “My brother has been taken in by that madness. I won’t leave without him.”
“I understand,” Connor said.
Ethan went through the door, but Shiloh paused beside Connor.
“When we don’t have a war to fight, is this what we become?”
Connor didn’t have an answer, but as Shiloh passed into the portal, Connor was overcome with the feeling that the walls of his world were being pulled down on top of him. And there was nothing he could do to stop it.
IN ALL THE TIME Adne had known Connor, he’d been at war, but this was the first time she’d ever seen him beaten down by a mission. His face was world-weary and his every movement stilted by frustration. At least he was telling her it was about the mission and nothing else. He didn’t bring up the training session. Neither did she.
“It’s not your fault he got away,” Adne told Connor. “Logan’s always been slippery. Saving his own skin is his raison d’être.”
“I know that,” Connor said, shrugging off his duster. “I don’t even know if we should bother chasing down Keepers. In fact, because it’s what Holt wants us to be doing, I’m kind of convinced it must be a terrible idea. And given the way he ransacked that house tonight, I’d almost be afraid to see him catch up with a Keeper. But I can’t help thinking . . .”
“What?” Adne knew Connor too well not to notice that he’d cut his thought off prematurely, which meant he was hiding something.
Connor shook his head. “It’s nothing.”
“The nothing is bothering you,” Adne replied. “Just tell me.”
With a sigh, Connor smiled at her. “No secrets with you.”
Adne swallowed what felt a stone lodged in her throat, but she forced herself to nod.
“We found a girl,” Connor said. “The same one we saw with Logan and the other Keeper boy during the reconnaissance mission.”
“So you didn’t come back empty-handed after all,” Adne said. “You know what they say, a bird in the hand.”
Connor went very quiet.
“That was my attempt to cheer you on,” Adne offered, frowning at him.
“She was dead, Adne,” Connor said, his expression bleak. “We found her on the beach near the house. Her throat was cut.”
Adne’s heart thudded, her pulse suddenly loud in her ears. “What do you think happened?”
“Nothing good,” Connor answered.
“You think it was Logan,” Adne said. “But she was a Keeper, like him. Why would he kill one of his own? And since when does Logan have the guts to kill someone? I thought he hired people to do that.”
“He does.” Connor rubbed his temples and Adne noticed how tired he looked.
I haven’t been helping with that, Adne thought. I probably bring him more worry than comfort these days.
“Or at least he did,” Connor continued. “I don’t know what happened, and without having Logan here to question, there’s no way for us to find out. What I do know is that I have a very bad feeling about all of this.”
Adne agreed but she didn’t trust herself to say so. She could barely hear her own thoughts over the roar of blood in her head. It was making her dizzy.
Connor stripped off his shirt, revealing hard muscle and scars won by years as a Striker. Suddenly uncomfortable, Adne turned away.
What the hell is wrong with me? She’d wanted Connor more than anything for the last two years, and now he was hers. Had her feelings been nothing more than childish infatuation? Had winning him been the only real goal, and now that she had him, had her interest waned?
The thought made Adne’s skull ache.
It can’t be that. I can’t be that horrible.
Adne forced herself to turn around. While she’d been looking away, Connor had stripped off his jeans and donned a loose-fitting pair of pajama pants. Adne let her gaze roam over him slowly, taking in the lines of his body, reminding herself of how good it felt to hold him, to be close to him, to feel how much he wanted her whenever he took her in his arms.
“What’s that look about?” Connor asked, noticing Adne’s perusal.
“I love you.” Adne walked up to Connor and rose up on her toes to place a gentle kiss on his mouth.
Connor’s arms went around her back, holding her against him. “Lucky me.”
He bent his head and pressed his lips to hers. His kiss was soft and Adne could taste his sadness. She wanted to take it away.
Connor broke off their kiss and pulled back to look at Adne’s face. His eyes were searching, and Adne knew he was cautious about where to go from here. Guilt stung Adne’s heart. His hesitation was her fault. She’d been more and more reticent when it came to intimacy.
Determined to repair the damage she’d done, Adne ran her fingertips over Connor’s collarbone, then down his chest and stomach. When she slipped her hand beneath the waistband of his pants, she murmured, “I think you should carry me to the bed now.”
“Is that what you think?” Connor gave her a teasing smile, but his voice had grown hoarse.
Adne nodded.
• • •
How had she never noticed the softness of these sheets?
Adne would have sworn the bed linens were simple cotton; tonight they felt like silk on her skin. But the slide of the sheets over her body was nothing compared to touch of her lover’s hands.
He placed his palm against her abdomen gently, but even so, Adne was aware of his immense strength. She felt an unfamiliar flutter deep within her.
“He is well,” her lover’s voice rumbled, low and rich with pleasure.
Though cocooned by happiness, Adne couldn’t help but feel something was wrong. Her lover’s voice, though familiar, wasn’t what she’d expected it to be.
Or was it?
She knew him. Knew his touch.
Did she?
“He?” Adne teased. “How can you possibly know?”
The twinge of unease came again. Her own voice sounded off as well. And the words—both hers and his—didn’t make sense. What were they speaking of? How could she not remember?
“My love.” Adne couldn’t see his face, but she could hear that he was smiling. “If I could share my vision with you, I would. But you can trust that I speak the truth. The child is male.”
The child? Adne’s head was swimming, but she answered in that voice that wasn’t her own.
“Are you pleased?”
“You never need ask such a question,” he replied. His fingers touched her lips. “Male or female, my blood flows in our child’s veins. That blood binds me to this world. It is our legacy.”
“Yes,” Adne replied. She didn’t understand. What legacy?
Her lover bent over her. She felt the warmth of his breath on her cheek. His weight pressed down on her. The sensation set fire to her veins and Adne was overwhelmed by need.
She wanted to tell him. To say his name.
But she couldn’t remember it.
How was that possible?
His hands were tracing the shape of her body.
Why couldn’t she remember?
His lips touched her ear. “You are mine.”
“Yes,” Adne said again.
Who are you?
His hand cupped her cheek, turning her face. Adne parted her lips, anticipating his kiss.
Then a much more terrible question filled her mind.
Who am I?
His mouth covered hers and Adne couldn’t breathe. The desire heating her limbs fled, chased away by a cold hollowing of her bones.
With
the little air left in her lungs, Adne screamed.
• • •
“Adne! Adne!” Connor gripped her shoulders.
Adne flailed, trying to free herself. She could still feel the other man’s weight, taste his breath.
“Adne, please!” Connor’s voice was on the edge of breaking. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”
His voice still whispered to her, tempting her.
Remember me.
Amid her violent struggle, the sound of Connor’s voice reached Adne, breaking through the mesmerizing tones of the stranger’s words.
That voice. She knew that voice.
Adne went limp in Connor’s arms.
“I’m Ariadne,” she whispered.
“What did you say?” Connor gathered her slumped body against his chest.
The fog of the dream began to melt away and Adne saw Connor clearly. The horror in his eyes made her chest cramp.
“I—” She looked away from him. “It was nothing. A dream.”
“That wasn’t nothing, Adne,” Connor said. “I thought you were having a seizure.”
“It was a nightmare.” Adne groped for a lie. “I dreamt I was drowning. It was horrible, but it wasn’t real. I’m okay now.”
Connor didn’t answer. He held her tight and Adne could feel the rapid beating of his heart.
“I’m sorry I scared you,” Adne said. She hesitated for a minute. “Maybe I should go.”
Connor tensed. “Is that what you want?”
“When was the last time you got a decent night of sleep?” Adne asked. “I’m pretty sure I’m making you miserable.”
“You could never do that,” Connor replied, but he sounded pretty miserable.
“Look.” Adne wriggled out of Connor’s arms and off the bed. “I’m not going to be able to sleep for a while anyway. Not after that dream. But there’s no reason for my nightmare to keep us both awake.”
Connor watched as Adne donned a robe.
“If you’re not going to sleep, where are you going?” His face was drawn.
Adne shrugged. “Maybe to the kitchen. To make some tea.”
She could tell that Connor knew she was lying, but he didn’t press her for the truth. Maybe he was afraid of what she’d say. She was.
Adne walked back to the bed and brushed a kiss across Connor’s cheek. “Get some rest. I’m sorry I kept you up.”
“Adne—” Connor grasped her wrist.
“Don’t touch me!” Adne jerked her arm free with much more force than she intended.
Connor stared at her, disbelief washing over his features.
“I didn’t mean . . . ,” Adne began, but she couldn’t find any words sufficient to finish.
Hating herself for it but equally desperate to get away, Adne turned and hurried out of Connor’s room.
When she was in the hall, she began to run. It wasn’t Connor she wanted to flee from. It was the voice that had been whispering ever since she’d woken. Quiet but insistent, it spoke whenever she looked at Connor.
He’s not the one you belong to.
Adne reached her room and flung the door open only to find that in her absence someone else had taken up residence. The woman, who was on her hands and knees, picking through the items in a wooden box, shrieked in surprise when Adne burst into the room.
“Sarah?” Adne stared at Sarah Doran in shock. “What are you doing here?”
Sarah paled, her eyes full of panic. She looked at the open box and then at Adne.
“Please, I have to . . .” Sarah closed the box and held it to her chest. “I don’t have a choice.”
Sarah’s eyes cast wildly about the room, reminding Adne of a terrified animal caught in a snare.
Keeping her voice calm, Adne approached Sarah slowly. “Just tell me what’s going on. I’d like to help.”
Sarah laughed and it was an unnerving sound, tinged with desperation. Adne wouldn’t have been at all surprised if Sarah had suddenly attacked her. Then Adne recognized the wooden box Sarah clung to.
“Sarah,” Adne said slowly, “when you were looking through that box, did you find what you needed?”
The woman’s eyes narrowed as if she suspected Adne was trying to trick her.
Adne walked over to the bedside table and opened its drawer. She withdrew the pendant, holding it up for Sarah to see. “I wear this sometimes,” Adne said. “So I don’t keep it in the box.”
“Please.” Sarah scrambled to her feet. “Please give it to me.”
“Tell me why you need these things,” Adne said.
Shaking her head, Sarah whispered, “I can’t say. But you must give it to me.”
“You can say, if you truly want this.” Adne dropped the pendant into her palm and closed her fist around it, hiding it from view. “I’ll make it easier for you. You’re taking the box to Logan Bane, aren’t you?”
Sarah gave a little gasp.
Adne walked over to Sarah. “Have you made arrangements to meet him somewhere?”
“Yes.”
“I’m not going to betray you.” Adne took Sarah’s hand and laid the necklace in her open palm. “I won’t tell anyone about this, but I need you to do something for me.”
Sarah’s hands were trembling. “What?”
“You’re going to take me with you.”
“I can’t do that,” Sarah said.
“Yes, you can.” Adne folded her arms across her chest. “And you will. Or you’re not leaving the Academy.”
“Don’t think I won’t fight you.” Sarah tensed, as if anticipating an attack.
“I’m sure you would,” Adne said. “But that’s not what I want. I need to talk to Logan. You know where he is, or at least where he’s going to be. I’m not going to interfere with whatever your business with Logan is. I have business of my own.”
Sarah’s gaze searched Adne’s expression, seeking some means of escape. Finding none, Sarah nodded in resignation.
“Where are you meeting him?” Adne asked, trying not to show how relieved she was that convincing Sarah to take her along hadn’t been harder. It wasn’t terribly difficult to see why Sarah had conceded so soon. Beneath her veneer of strength, Adne could glimpse how broken the woman was. Sarah Doran had very little fight left and Adne guessed she was being driven mostly by desperation.
We’re not so different.
“A town house in Boston,” Sarah told Adne. “I have an address.”
“Boston?” Adne frowned. “And how are you planning to get there?”
“I hadn’t decided—” Sarah lifted her chin, defiant despite the glaring flaw in her plan. Or the lack of a plan altogether.
Desperate. We’re both desperate.
“Well.” Adne smiled sadly. “I guess it’s a good thing I’m a Weaver.”
SABINE FELT AS though she were in the middle of a demented game of hide-and-seek that had gone on for far too long. She couldn’t find Adne anywhere and she’d been looking for hours.
When Adne hadn’t shown up to guide the tour she’d been assigned, Sabine had simply stepped in and taken over. But given their misadventure the previous day at Haldis, and what Sabine had subsequently learned from Ethan about Adne’s bizarre behavior at the training session, Sabine thought it best to find Adne and make sure she was okay.
But Adne seemed to have vanished. Connor grudgingly admitted that Adne had left his bed in the middle of the night and hadn’t returned. The Striker was in as sour a mood as Sabine had ever seen. Whether he was smarting from Adne’s rejection or the debacle of the mission, which Ethan had also relayed to Sabine, Connor proved less than helpful in Sabine’s search.
After hunting through the Academy and asking all of Adne’s acquaintances if they’d seen her, Sabine came up with nothing. She even returned to Rowan Estate on the off chance that Adne had somehow ended up at the mansion or in the gardens. But Adne hadn’t made an appearance at the Keeper estate since Sabine had left earlier in the day.
Though Sabine wondered if
she should just let it be, as a sullen Connor had suggested in a much less pleasant fashion, she felt somewhat responsible for Adne. Not knowing what else to do, Sabine finally went in search of Anika, despite the fact that the hour crept close to midnight. She’d considered going to Tess, but Sabine had a nagging feeling that Adne’s disappearance was a sign of things to come. Very bad things that Anika would need to know about.
When Sabine knocked on the Arrow’s door, apology ready to be delivered before her request for help, Anika answered not cross nor groggy-eyed from being woken, but fully dressed and alert.
“It’s not a good time, Sabine,” Anika said.
“I know,” Sabine replied. “But something’s happened and I need your help. I think.”
“You think?” Anika frowned.
A movement behind the Arrow caught Sabine’s eye. Anika wasn’t alone.
“I mean, I know I need your help,” Sabine said quickly, “but I don’t know what the protocol is when it comes to a missing Searcher.”
“Missing?” Anika’s brow knit together. “You’d better come in.”
Sabine entered the Arrow’s quarters and Anika closed the door. Without Anika obscuring her view, Sabine was surprised to discover that the second person in the room was Tristan Doran.
“Sabine.” Anika was still frowning. “How did you come to know that Sarah Doran is missing?”
“Sarah is missing?” Sabine shook her head in surprise. “I didn’t know that. I’m here because I can’t find Adne. No one seems to know where she is.”
“Adne is missing?” Anika rocked back on her heels. “Are you sure?”
Sabine nodded. “I’m sure.”
“Do you think that Sarah and Adne could be missing for the same reason?” Anika asked Tristan.
“I don’t know,” Tristan said. The man’s face was haggard. He looked worse than Connor had.
“Do you have any idea where Sarah went?” Sabine asked him.
“She left a note.” Tristan opened his palm to reveal a crumpled piece of paper. “It’s not particularly helpful.”
Sabine took the note from Tristan and smoothed it open.
I had to try. Please forgive me.