Authors: Stacey Nash
“Stop, Joshua,” Manvyke’s sharp, smooth voice says as his gaze pins Jax. He stands tall and regal, his expression confident and commanding.
The man’s biceps bulge as he pushes against Jax’s hand. The blade moves back from his neck, just a fraction. Jax grunts and pushes against it again.
“Joshua,” Manvyke says.
Something flashes across Jax’s face, and his mouth sets in a thin line.
“You’ve done your job. Now back down.” Manvyke’s voice remains calm.
They continue to struggle. The man kicks out, trying to throw Jax off him.
“It’s wearing off.” Manvyke glances back at his guard and turns a flat stare on Jax. “Stop, Joshua, or I’ll have your friends killed.”
Jax pulls his blade back, retracts it, and stands up straight, releasing Manvyke’s henchman.
Joshua? Who the heck
is Joshua, and what is Jax playing at? Manvyke ordered Joshua to stand down, and Jax did. No. No, no, no. Like a tidal pull, my gaze is drawn to him. “Jax?”
He stares straight at the wall, inclines his head just a fraction, and says, “Father.”
I glance from one to the other. Confusion freezes all thought.
Lilly dashes across the room, her long hair streaming behind her. An open-handed slap lands across Jax’s face. “What the hell?” She stands in front of him, her eyes wide and blinking rapidly. She raises her hand again and, when he doesn’t respond, drops it to her side. “You pretended to be one of us.” Her whisper is too calm.
A deep rumble, water cascading over rapids, comes from Manvyke. As I tear my gaze away from Jax, my tummy flutters, and I’m still not exactly certain what’s going on. Or maybe I don’t want it to add up. Laughter shakes his shoulders, and his eyes prance. “Well done, son.”
No.
“Joshua? Father? Jax, what’s going on?”
He continues to stare straight at Manvyke with an expression far less readable than the imprint of Lilly’s hand blooming red against his pale cheek.
Without turning her glaring gaze away from Jax, Lilly expertly pitches her dagger across the room right at the woman. It barely misses her.
Reaching back, Lilly draws another from a sheath over her shoulder, pointing it at Jax. “I’m coming back for you.”
The woman ducks back around the corner, and the second hurtling blade embeds in the doorframe. Lilly delves into her boot, pulling out a third dagger, and dashes to the door. Dagger extended, she brandishes it at the woman, who tries to dance around it.
“Jax?” My stomach twists like it’s tied in knots. I need to know what this is all about. He doesn’t answer.
I glance to Will, looking for the answers Jax won’t give me. His gun’s still pointed at the other henchman, and his eyes swish around the room like he doesn’t know where the greatest threat lies.
“Chocolate, anyone?” Dad’s voice pulls me away from Jax. He’s sitting in
the corner now, pouring over a small purple box. The logo on the front reads: Fine Belgian Chocolates. Seriously, he’s offering chocolate in the middle of all this? My face scrunches, and ringing sounds in my ears. There’s something seriously wrong. Maybe he’s lost it.
Manvyke clears his throat, and Jax stares him down like a street brawler issuing a challenge. Jax…
Joshua?
“Is it true?” My voice wavers, my eyes search his face, seeking confirmation of Manvyke’s lie. Jax is one of us. It can’t be true. I won’t believe it. His gaze finally moves from Manvyke, and his green eyes meet mine steadily. They are hard and cold. My heart shrivels and shrinks. It must be true. Everything he’s told me, everything we’ve shared, is one huge lie. Hurt spears my chest, leaving a stabbing wound.
“You lied to me.”
“I didn’t lie.” His shoulders drop.
I want to believe him.
“Trust me.” His eyes beseech mine. A glint of something good, something honest, something pure, shines from within him. Is it trust? I don’t know, but it tells me I have to believe him.
It hurts when he tears his gaze away from mine.
Jax pins Manvyke with a glare, his mouth twisting into a snarl. “You can’t control me anymore.” He spits each word out.
“Wrong, my son. I can, and I do.”
Jax’s face flushes, and a vein on his neck pulsates in a rapid, angry beat.
“It’s wearing off. We need more serum, Kratos,” Manvyke says.
The burly henchman swaggers to a lavish wooden desk with legs carved in great detail. He slides open the top drawer, his face set in an ugly smile, and pulls out a small glass vial with a long, thin needle.
“And you,” Manvyke’s cold, dark eyes comb over me, “so much like your mother. A little Annie.”
I pull my jacket closed and wrap my arms around my middle, feeling dirty on the inside. Like he’s taken in every inch of me and left nothing untarnished. How does he know my mother’s name?
“I’m glad she left us for a while.” His mouth twists in a fake smile like it’s etched on.
Like Annie. He knows my mother. She left us. My mind spins, trying to make sense of his words. At the mention of her name, Dad looks up.
Jax steps out in front of me and plants his feet wide. “Don’t look at her like that.”
Something whizzes by so close it disrupts the air, sending a slight ripple of cool air against my cheek. It ricochets off the wall between Manvyke and Dad, flinging shards of plaster like confetti.
“Don’t.” Will’s gun is trained on the Councilor.
Manvyke flicks his hand at Will like he’s shooing away a bothersome pest. “Do something with that, would you?”
The other man grabs Will from behind, his arms bunching with overtoned muscles, clinching him into a headlock.
The clatter of an object hitting the ground makes me dart a glance over my shoulder. One of Lilly’s daggers lies on the floor, and the thin woman cuffs her long, thin hands around Lilly’s right wrist. With her arm extended, Lilly pulls against her, and the woman yanks her back up by the elbow, lifting her feet off the floor. Lilly gasps.
It all happens so fast I’m glued to the spot with no time to move or help. A dark object flies through the air in the corner of my vision, a speedy, black blur. Jax grabs my arm, pulling us both down. It flies over our heads. Kratos grunts and tosses something again. It’s flying right for me. Jax pushes me out of the way, and I land face down on the floor, my cheek against the cool tiles, his back against my side. He screams.
It got him. Jumping to my feet, my hand goes straight to his arm, helping him rise beside me. Inches from my fingers, a thin needle sticks out of his. He yanks it out and spears it at Kratos, who catches it out of the air.
Manvyke cackles. “Bring her to me.”
My chest tightens like the protect-it has firmed up its hold. Pinching the netting, I pull it away from my clothes, but the tightening remains. I breathe quick, shallow breaths. Her has to mean me. Who was the order issued to? I just need to grab Dad, then we’ve got to get out of here. The hard evidence of Mavyke’s Council betrayal will have to wait until after Dad’s safe.
“No,” Jax says.
Manvkye’s brows raise, and he shoots Jax a glassy stare, but his mouth curls in a smile like he knows something nobody else is privy to. “Bring. Little Annie. To me.”
“My name is Mae.”
Dad’s head jerks up; he looks right at me like he’s seeing me for the first time, and he smiles. “Mae. Sweet Mae was born in May,” he sings and smiles.
“No,” Jax growls at Manvyke, but his body jolts to face me.
“You will do as you’re told, s
on.” Manvyke’s voice stays lowered, but his expression is filled with a cold rage which sets my teeth on edge.
Jax jerks out toward me with hate-filled eyes. His legs jolt like they move out of his control.
“Jax? What’s happening?” My eyes flicker over his, searching for the answer he still won’t give me.
He tears his gaze from Manvyke to look me straight in the eye. His eyes soften, and his brows pull together, forming tight lines. His arm snaps around my waist, and he pulls me to him with an iron grip. I draw in a sharp, stinging breath. The usual heat of being this close, the fluttering, the pulling tug, all of it suddenly feels bad. Wriggling in his arms, I push against him. Confusion morphs into hurt. I don’t understand. Truth definitely shined in his eyes. He told me to trust him. I could read it in his gaze, but his actions don’t match his words, and now I’m not sure what he’s doing.
My chest tightens further, squeezed by an unseen hand.
“Stop making it harder,”
he says through the telcom, but something in his tone pleads with me to fight him. I read it wrong before, though, so now I don’t buy it.
“Don’t trust him, Mae,” Will yells.
A dull thud, like a fist hitting soft flesh, is followed by Will’s deep groan.
Jax’s holds me tight, my back pressed against his chest, his arms strong and unmovable. As much as I try to squirm away, it’s not possible. His legs lurch and turn us to face Manvyke, my feet grappling to stop us. The Councilor’s grin ripples shivers of dread through me.
“Let’s play a game of truth and dare, shall we?” he says. “Where is the Agia?”
I’m not playing anyone’s games, and certainly not his. My fists push against Jax’s arms. “Let me go.” His grip tightens around me, his long fingers digging into my upper arms, holding me tighter against him. He stops moving forward.
“Mae has it,” Jax says.
My arm burns with his vicelike grip. “I have what? Put me down!” I squirm against him. “What are you doing?”
I crane my neck, trying to get a clear view of his face, but he looks to the left, turning his cheek toward me, refusing to meet my gaze. The betrayal slows my heart, stops time. While I’m trapped in his arms, looking at his flushed cheek, hurt hardens my heart. The need to be strong has to overpower my personal feelings. Whatever Jax feels for me, and what I feel for him, doesn’t matter. Not right now.
“What’s so special about little Annie?” Manvyke says.
“What’s not?” Jax’s neck and face turn scarlet.
“I said bring her here,” roars Manvyke.
A loud groan and thudding sound from behind us. My heart twists for Will.
Jax takes a step toward Manvyke, jolting us forward. “And I said NO,” he yells, the vein on his neck throbbing like an angry welt.
I cease my struggle. He must be true; he’s not giving me away.
“What’s an Agia?”
“Cover-up.”
“NOW,” Manvyke roars, and the whole room shakes.
I jump, cringe, curl back into Jax’s chest, and his hold loosens just enough for us to lock eyes. I feel it. His body quivers. Vibrations shake his arms, his chest, his being. It’s not the room, it’s him. Whatever is going on, he’s fighting something strong, or maybe it’s fighting him. “Jax,” I whisper. “Jax, look at me.”
His eyes meet mine, a fierce inner battle raging within them. His face burns with anger and hatred, and his pupils almost consume his eyes.
“I believe in you.” My arm comes free with a sharp tug, and I raise my fingers to brush his cheek.
His pupils shrink to their normal size, and thin flecks become visible like shards of amber amongst his vibrant green irises. The coldness held within subsides and is replaced by something softer, warmer, normal. The shaking lessens, but still continues as spasmodic tremors.
“You shouldn’t,” he says.
I throw every inch of my trust into my expression, hoping he can read it like I read him. I read him? Confusing, closed off Jax. The look on his face that once before I would have barely noticed through the indifference. I really do trust him. I know he’s good. “I know you won’t hurt me.”
Light reflects off his round, glassy eyes. His face smoothes, and his jaw relaxes. The shaking finally shudders to an end. He squeezes me once, his grip loosens, and I’m free, back on my own feet.
“Bring her here. Now,” Manvyke screams.
Jax’s mouth turns up in a small smile, and he raises a lone brow.
“No.”
“You choose a girl, not even of pure Collective blood, over your father?” Little bits of spittle fly out of Manvyke’s mouth.
Kratos snatches his dagger from the desk, his mouth slashed in a hard line and his stance ready to fight. Manvyke holds his hand up, and Kratos stops.
“Yes,” Jax says. The single word is packed with emotion. “Her blood is ten times better than yours, pure or not.”
Manvyke’s gaze paws over me again, from my head all the way to my feet. “Blood is thicker than water, boy, but perhaps teenage hormones have a stronger pull than both.”
I jerk my jacket closed, shoving each button through each hole. Filthy, dirty, disgusting, in need of a shower.
“I said don’t look at her like that.” Jax’s blade shoots out of the bone handle with a firm click.
Another deep groan comes from by the door, but this time no thud follows. The need to make sure Will’s okay pulls my glance over my shoulder. Flat on his back, Will’s arms are pinned by the henchman, blinking like he’s waking up from a deep sleep.