The Vanishing Girl (8 page)

Chapter 14

“
What is it
with you and getting me naked? Haven’t you already gotten an eyeful?” I asked, looking him up and down. Dappled light fell along his face, making his hair and eyes shine. I ignored the way it sped up my pulse.

“Not nearly.”

I shook my head. “Perv.”

“Perv
—
I’ve gotten upgraded from stalker.”

Wasn’t he the eternal optimist?

“Fine. I agree to your terms,” I said.

Caden might be fast and in better shape, but I wanted the win more than he did. I needed all the resources I could get if I was going to escape this place.

He put out his hand. “Shake on it.”

My hand gripped his, and we watched each other as we shook. A slow smile spread across his face. He thought I’d already lost. My grasp tightened.

I was going to take this guy. I had to.

He released my
hand and bolted.

“Hey!” My legs began moving a second later.

Caden’s golden hair bobbed in front of me as he weaved between trees. His form shrank as he pulled ahead, and I had to stop myself from sprinting after him.

Slow and steady wins the race.
This mantra had helped me win many races during cross-country season, and it would help me again today. 

Only after Caden’s form disappeared far ahead of me did I speed up, my legs falling into a rhythm I could maintain. The trees flew by in my peripherals. It felt like flying. I continued like that for roughly a mile, moving in the rough direction of the lake. All the while I kept an eye out for my partner.

While I ran, I wondered whether our speed had been tampered with. I’d always been exceptionally fast. Now it seemed like just another altered gene.

A glimpse of golden hair pulled me from my thoughts.

Bingo.

I continued to build up my speed and shadowed him until I saw something glint between the trees. The lake.

I laid on my speed until I was sprinting. As I grew closer, a patchwork of water formed from behind the trees. I pushed my legs and burst through the foliage. Dirt became sand and then my toes splashed against the edge of the lake.

Leaning over, I took a moment to catch my breath.

A shadow fell over me. “Nice try, princess.”

Damn.

I looked up. My eyes followed the golden skin of Caden’s arms up to his face. He wore a cat-that-ate-the-canary smile.

I felt my lungs deflate. He’d beaten me. I’d have to find some other way to escape.

“I guess someone’s going skinny-dipping with me.” He didn’t even try to hide the glee from his voice. Caden had managed to sneak his way into seeing me naked for the third time. Amazing.

I ground my teeth together to prevent myself from arguing with him. A deal’s a deal.

Be a good sport about this Ember.

“Fine,” I said, pulling my sweaty shirt off. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Caden’s eyes zeroed in on my hot pink sports bra. He looked back up at me, his mischievous smile back in place. He slid his own shirt off.

Next came our shorts. I eyed Caden’s boxer briefs, which clung to his muscular legs, and discreetly swallowed.

Then I pulled off my bra and tossed it aside.

Caden sucked in a breath and froze, his gaze fixated on my breasts.

“Are you done yet?” I asked, folding my arms over my chest.

He recovered and skimmed his hands over the edge of his waistband. After flashing me a final smile, he slid his boxer briefs off.

Oh. My. God.

My eyebrows shot up. Seeing a man naked was a very different experience than seeing a man almost naked. And he looked pretty happy to see me.

Geez, were all man-things supposed to look that large?

“Stop objectifying me,” Caden said, “I’m not just a piece of meat.”

Just like that, his words broke the sexual tension, and I began to laugh.

“Now it’s your turn.”

Well, they broke the sexual tension until he said that.

I took a deep breath, trying to muster the confidence I always had during one of my trips. It wasn’t coming to me.

I’d been naked many times in public, thanks to my special ability, so why was this so difficult?

But I knew the answer. Teleporting was real, but it didn’t always feel that way
—
it often felt more like lucid dreaming. And it was easy to fake confidence when you only had to stick around for a few minutes.

Caden, on the other hand, saw me everyday, and he was quickly learning all my dark little secrets and idiosyncrasies. Being intentionally nude in front of him made me feel vulnerable.

With that poignant final thought, I dropped my panties.

Caden drank me
in, his eyes shining too brightly.

I didn’t give him much time to look. I turned and began sauntering to the water. My legs trembled from the need to sprint into the lake as quickly as possible, but I willed them to move slowly.

As soon as I was thigh deep, I dived in the rest of the way, the water tingling my bare skin. My body arched in the water, my toes skimming the lake’s muddy floor. I cringed at the squishy sensation of the lake bottom. I was going to have to tread water if I didn’t want to touch it again.

By the time I surfaced, Caden had already gotten into the water.

He dunked his head and came back up, running his hands through his wet hair. My eyes roved over his shiny skin. The water dripping off of him made him look all the more sexy.

He caught me staring. “Like anything you see?”

I flashed him a smile. “Naw.”

“Liar,” he said. We both knew it too. He could read me just as well as I could read him.

“You can come closer,” he said, the water lapping against his body. “I promise I won’t bite.” Contrary to his words, he looked at me like he was poised to strike.

I shook my head, moving my arms and legs to stay afloat. “We’re partners, and if something weird happens here, we’re going to regret it tomorrow.” Already heat pooled in my stomach.

My eyes dropped to his lips, and then I glanced away.

He read between the lines and, never one to miss an opportunity, Caden closed the distance between us so fast you’d think he was trying to win a medal for it.

“Whoa,” I said, “back up buddy. That wasn’t an invitation.” My heart slammed in my chest and my stomach tingled uncomfortably.

Instead he wrapped an arm around my waist and used his own legs to hold us both afloat. “Better?” he asked, referring to the fact that I didn’t have to tread water now that he was doing it for the both of us.

And it was better, but he was now much too close and it made my breath hitch and my abs clench.

I put a hand on his pecs to push him away, but the smooth skin underneath my fingers captivated me. Without meaning to, I ran my hand down his chest, feeling every dip and curve of his muscles.

Beneath my hand, Caden stilled. “You have a secret that I want to know,” he said, his voice low. “A secret that you now owe me.”

I eyed him warily. I was about to feel naked in a whole new way. Strange enough, it seemed worse exposing a secret than it did exposing my skin.

He watched me for a long time. “Could you love me?” he finally asked.

What?
That was the secret he wanted to know?

“What kind of question is that?” I asked.

“A simple one.”

“I don’t think that counts as a secret,” I said, carefully studying the way tendrils of his wet hair fell over his forehead and the slight dip his dimples made when they were thinking of making an appearance.

“Of course it counts,” he said. “It’s not something that you’d tell people about, thus it’s a secret.”

An emotional secret, that’s what he wanted from me. And from experience, these were always the worst to share. “Choose something else,” I said.

“No. That’s the secret you have to answer.”

My eyes focused on Caden. One corner of his mouth was quirked up, one dimple exposed. Despite the carefree look, his eyes were serious.

I was a woman of my word, so I’d answer this, though I hated how vulnerable it made me feel.

Could I love Caden?
I rolled the question over in my mind.

My hand trailed down to feel the rough skin of his scars, his stomach tightening beneath my touch. He led a violent life, he was cocky and annoyingly protective … and he was the only guy I’d gotten to know who challenged me in all the ways that mattered. He was my equal.

I met his eyes. “Easily. I could love you easily.” The words burned coming out. Emotional secrets weren’t spoken because they were game-changers.

His eyes were intense. “God, I was hoping you’d say that.” And then he leaned down and kissed me.

My eyes closed
as his lips pressed against mine, his free hand cupping the side of my face. Without thinking, I kissed him back, my arms sliding around his neck.

And then I felt all the heated areas where his skin brushed against mine. Suddenly, the entire situation came into hyper focus. I was naked with Caden in some lake on government property and we were only a few simple touches away from doing something really stupid
—
correction: something more stupid than what we were currently doing.

What was I thinking?

I broke the kiss off and pushed him away
—
this time for real. My ragged breathing matched his own.

“That
—
shouldn’t have happened,” I said.

Caden still gazed at me hungrily, clearly ready to resume where we’d left off. It took him a moment, but he eventually reined it in. “You’re right, that shouldn’t have happened.” He exhaled. “I have a confession to make.”

I stilled, the water gently slapping against my exposed skin. “And what’s that?” I asked.

“You beat me.”

Chapter 15

It took a
second for me to register what he said.

“Wait,
what
?”

“You beat me here.”

“Wha …” I blinked, and for a moment the only noise was the water brushing against us.

I moved in on him and dunked him in the water. “You sneaky bastard!” I yelled at him as the water foamed and bubbled around us.

He came up laughing, wrapping his arms around my waist.

“No!” I said, pushing him away. “You don’t deserve a naked hug from me.”

I peeled myself off of him and made my way out of the water, no longer caring that I was stark naked.

“C’mon
—
it was worth it!” he called after me.

The most frightening thing about his statement was that it was. In spite of his manipulation, it was totally worth it.

Caden sat next
to where I laid out on a rock overlooking the lake, soaking up the setting sun.

“Why did you admit that I beat you?” I asked. It had bothered me
—
why he’d admit to something once he’d gotten away with it if he knew it’d piss me off. Not that I stayed angry for long. I guess he’d already figured out that about me too.

“I like taking advantage of a situation, but I’m not a cheater.”

Light fingers traced my tattoo underneath the thin fabric of my shirt. I shivered from his touch, but I didn’t move his hand.

“Cold?” he asked.

“As if you don’t know what you do to me,” I said, calling him out.

I could practically feel his smug smile. Now that he knew my feelings, Caden had wasted no time coaxing those feelings to the surface.

His fingers paused. “Did this hurt to get?” he asked, referring to my tattoo.

“Like hell.”

He resumed tracing my tattoo. “Why’d you get it?”

I flipped onto my side and propped my head up so that I could see him better. “You already got one secret out of me that wasn’t yours to take; I’m not giving you another.”

He gazed at me, his expression heated. My heart pounded. Things between us already felt different. Not only had Caden been up to no good since I divulged my secret, but I’d also seen him in a different light since
—
like he might be someone I could get close to. The thought of us together made me feel lighter than air.

But it couldn’t be. Not if I wanted to escape.

“You now owe me a question and a favor,” I said.

Caden’s smile dissolved and his body tensed. “I do. What do you want?”

I gave him a sly smile. “I have to think about it. Unlike someone I know, I don’t like making quick decisions.”

“Hesitation is lethal.”

I stared into his hazel eyes. So many different colors made up the complex pattern of his irises. My confession earlier was painfully true. I could easily fall for him. And Caden was right, this hesitation might just be lethal. To my plans.

I blinked, trying
to adjust to the darkness. I did a couple of stretches and shook out my muscles, loosening up my taut body.

Around me was what looked like an outdated office. I glanced down at my outfit. My breath caught at the sight.

I wore black jeans and soft leather boots. But it was the shirt that distracted me. The face of an angry man rested above the phrase,
Big Brother is watching you
.

I checked my pockets and pulled out a tiny flashlight and a note.

Bottom desk drawer. Third cabinet from the top.

Same handwriting as before.

Don’t do it Ember. Don’t look.

These notes had only caused me trouble. In spite of that, I clicked on the flashlight, and when the weak beam of light passed over a desk, I walked over to it.

Built into the side of the desk were three drawers. I knelt down and opened the bottom drawer and aimed the light inside. Some used paper clips, a rubber band ball, and a roll of duck tape.

Why did the note lead me here? I mulled over the slip of paper some more. And then it clicked. The note didn’t say that I’d find anything
in
the bottom desk drawer.

With that realization, I felt below the drawer. My fingers skimmed over rough wood until they moved over a small bump. Something was tapped beneath it.

I peeled away the tapped item and flipped it over in my hands. A key.

I focused my attention back to the note.
Bottom desk drawer. Third cabinet from the top.
The bottom drawer had been the third cabinet from the top, but I doubted the note wanted me to only find this key. After all, I couldn’t take it back with me. No, I was supposed to use it.

I shined the flashlight over the rest of the room, pausing as my light passed over a tall metal filing cabinet. I counted four drawers, all which had a keyhole next to the handle.

I walked over to the drawers and tried to open a cabinet. Locked. I pulled the slip of paper out again. Perhaps the second sentence referred to something other than the desk’s drawers
—
perhaps it referred to the filing cabinet. I crouched down on my knees so that I was eye level with the third drawer from the top. Next to the handle was a key slot. I jammed the key in and turned.

Files were crammed into the drawer. I shined the light on each manila file folder. Each one had a tab with words
Prometheus Project
and a name taped on.

I pulled out the file on Gregory James. On the front of the file folder the word
Expired
was stamped in red.

A tremor ran through my hands as I opened the folder. Inside someone had paper clipped a picture of Gregory. Beneath the picture was his basic information. According to the document, Gregory was three years older than me and a teleporter
—
not that I had assumed otherwise. But it was the words at the bottom of the page that caught my attention.

Cause of death: Acute hemorrhaging caused by gunshot wound to the chest. Splicing.

I swallowed and flipped through the rest of the folder. The photographs on the following pages illustrated in graphic detail Gregory’s brutal death.

A wave of nausea rolled over me. He didn’t appear to have died from a single bullet wound. No, judging by the way most of his insides were exposed, splicing
—
whatever that was
—
had caused it.

I shoved the file back into the drawer and grabbed another with the name
Danielle Jackson
written across the top. It too was stamped with the word
Expired
in red. And like Gregory, one of Danielle’s causes of death was splicing.

I shoved her file back in the drawer and pulled out a few more. All roughly my age, all involved in the Prometheus Project, and all expired. Each cause of death included one violent injury
—
such as a knife or gunshot wound
—
and this strange new term,
splicing
.

It took a moment to put two and two together, but when I did, my body swayed, and I stumbled back to regain my footing.

Of course. These wounds must’ve been sustained while these teleporters were on a mission. And when they materialized back in their beds … well, instead of their bodies stitching themselves back together, something went very, very wrong.

I’d bet serious money that the rest of the files all had that same red
Expired
label stamped onto them and that they all died in the same gruesome manner.

My skin prickled. Splicing. This was how we died.

Monday morning I
finally made it to breakfast in the dining commons on time. It had been a week since I arrived, and slowly I’d been accommodating to my new life here.

I plopped down in one of the two empty seats next to Jeff, my tray clattering against the table. Ever since I started eating with them, Caden’s group of friends had left two spots open for the both of us.

A few minutes later Caden sat down next to me. “Good morning, princess.”

“There is nothing
good
about mornings.” I rubbed my eyes. The world still had that hazy look to it.

“I think your shirt’s on backwards,” Eric said.

“Don’t care.” I spooned a tasteless bite of granola into my mouth. The food here seriously needed some upgrading.

Caden reached towards me and grabbed a white fabric tag that stuck out just beneath the base of my throat. “And it’s inside out,” he said, using the tag to tug me towards him.

His face was way too close, and it was doing strange things to my stomach. “Says the man with coffee breath.”

Caden smiled, his dimples appearing. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Oh, it is.”

“Would you two please get a room?” Serena said.

Before either Caden or I could respond, Debbie entered the room. The noise level dropped to a whisper before it vanished altogether.

“Good morning everyone,” she said. She had the whole room’s attention. “As many of you may have heard, this week all students over the age of eighteen will begin simulations.” The room erupted into whispers. As I glanced around, I noticed that most people appeared nervous
—
even those who couldn’t be old enough to participate. 

“Because this will take all day, each day this week, those participating will be placed on independent study for the duration of the simulations. Your instructors have emailed you assignments that you are to do each day, so make sure to check your email.

“After breakfast a list will be posted on the dining hall with the date and times of each simulation
—
you each are scheduled for two. If you’re a pair, you’ll be participating in the simulation as a unit.”

My hands began to shake at her words. The tremors worked their way up from my hands to my arms and shoulders and then my back.

Caden eyed me. “Are you okay?” His gaze was too intense, too concerned. All I could do was nod and look away.

I hadn’t told him about the office. Since I’d teleported there, I’d been scared shitless about getting spliced. Teleporting was dangerous enough as it was. Now that we were going on missions, the chance of someone getting hurt only multiplied on itself, and with it, splicing.

“You are each to be in your rooms thirty minutes before your simulation. Remember your training
—
these simulations will be incredibly real, so don’t take them lightly. You can still get hurt.”

My foot began to jiggle under the table. There they were
—
the words I dreaded to hear.

A hand squeezed my leg, and I met the pair of eyes it belonged to.

“It’s going to be okay,” Caden said, giving me a meaningful look. “We’ll be doing this together. I’m going to personally make sure nothing happens to you.”

I nodded and gave him a tight-lipped smile. His words should’ve reassured me, but instead, thoughts of Caden getting hurt filled my mind. If he was busy watching my back, who’d be watching his?

Already I could feel my hesitation that day at the lake twisting in my gut. Somehow Caden must’ve known that getting that one secret out of me was the key to keeping me here. Because I might want to survive, but I hadn’t run yet, and he was the reason why.

I turned to Caden. He must’ve seen something flicker through my eyes as I stared because he tilted his head and smiled slyly.

Had I even won that race? Or had this been another one of Caden’s tricks? What if he wanted to see what I’d do when he offered freedom to me
—
whether I’d hesitate or go for it?

I pushed out of my seat. I couldn’t tell what was real and what was just me overthinking. Damn this place; it was giving me a headache. If the simulations didn’t kill me, the psychological warfare would.

I headed back
into my room without peering at the taped announcement. I logged into my computer and checked my emails for the first time since the night I arrived.

Over fifty new messages filled the screen. I deleted the spam first and glanced over the remaining emails.

My chest tightened when I realized that none of them were from Ava or my parents. Before I went through the rest of my emails, I wrote each of them a message, explicitly asking them to write me back.

Once I sent those out, I flipped through the rest of my inbox. Many of the others were emails from various instructors
—
including the dress code for Etiquette. Whoops. One of the most recent ones went over the simulations again. I skimmed over the first paragraph and deleted it when it told me nothing new.

I read over the messages containing my homework assignments for the week. My blood pressure rose at the coursework I had ahead of me. It wasn’t that there was too much, it was that all my assignments looked like gibberish to me. I didn’t know how to assemble an SSAK-47, nor did I know the proper way to insert a 9mm magazine into a Glock 19.

My instructors were right, I wasn’t ready to be put in the field. Not even close.

I spent a
few more minutes on my email before deciding to close out. As I moved my cursor to log out, my computer pinged and a new email popped onto my screen. I read the title.

Greetings from Your Former Victim

The email address was a random combination of letters and numbers meant to hide the true identity of the sender. I thought I knew who this was from. I clicked on the heading and opened the message.

Ember,

Thought you were the only one who could do the stalking? Unfortunately for you, I’m resourceful. Finding your email address was too easy. But what I’m really writing about is the Prometheus Project.

Listen Ember, I’ve decided to trust you, mostly because you’re way too incompetent to be a threat. Because my life’s in jeopardy
—
thanks to you
—
I’ve been doing some research on you and the government project you’re a part of.

I don’t yet know much about it, other than it’s dangerous for you and all others involved. If you can find me again, I’ll explain this in less cryptic terms. For now, stay safe and try not to be too trusting of authority figures.

Sincerely,

You Know Who

P.S. If you don’t want any more stalkers, take your email address off of your Facebook account.

Adrian. He’d been ballsy
—
or stupid
—
enough to send me an email. At least he hadn’t written his name. I didn’t know how much of our messages the project rifled through, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they accessed our emails.

I opened a reply box. Making sure not to include any identifying information about Adrian, I typed up a brief reply.