Blacklisted Page 9

  "Thank you."

  "You're welcome." He backed up a few steps, turned, and braced his hands on the wall. The back of his shirt was ripped and I could see fat red welts peeking out from beneath the torn material.

  "They whipped you?" I gasped out.

  He didn't face me. Didn't answer me. Just continued his story as if we'd never veered off track. "I met Cara about a month after I'd been accepted into the camp. We hit it off right away and started dating."

  I hadn't asked, but I'd wanted to know. Badly. So I allowed him to ignore my query without protest.

  "We had a pretty intense relationship for a year and spent every spare minute together. And when we weren't together, we were thinking about each other." He turned around and stared at the wall opposite him, as if he wasn't speaking to me but to whoever was listening to our conversation. "I loved her."

  "You were eighteen?" My age now.

  Erik nodded. "Yep."

  My dad would say a kid that young couldn't possibly love with such passion, that teenagers had no concept of "true" devotion. A crush, he'd say. A passing fancy. You'll wake up tomorrow and realize you never really cared about that guy, Dad always said when he'd caught me sighing over Erik's picture.

  Dad was wrong.

  I hadn't gotten over my crush on Erik. I felt as intense about him now as I had then. My dad didn't understand--or perhaps he didn't want to admit--that teenagers experience emotions as violently as adults. Perhaps more so, since the feelings are new to us and we haven't yet learned how to deal with them.

  When Erik said he'd loved Cara, I believed him. The truth was there in his expression, glowing brightly. He'd loved her, had probably wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. Would probably have died for her.

  To have a boy love you that much, well, it had to be empowering. I was jealous, I admit it. I didn't like Cara, and didn't think she deserved him.

  "What happened?" I asked quietly.

  He gave a bitter laugh. "The day I was caught with Onadyn happened. Apparently A.I.R. had suspected my involvement with the drug. They sent Cara in to search. She found it and didn't even ask me about it. She just fucking turned me in. I was cuffed and taken to Mia, where I was questioned and found guilty."

  "I'm so sorry."

  "Cara, too, was questioned. She betrayed me faster than I could draw in a breath, claiming she'd suspected it all along, too, that she'd stayed with me to get proof."

  I ached for him, for the bitterness he still harbored. Such a betrayal had to have destroyed him, ripped him up inside.

  "I was jailed. Cara came to visit me, crying. But it was too late. I stole her badge and managed to escape. I hid for a little while, even bleached my hair and permanently changed my eye color. I wasn't doing anybody any good, though. So I changed my last name and joined your school. I knew A.I.R. would find me eventually, but I didn't care. There was something I had to do, consequences be damned."

  He lapsed into silence leaving me--and our audience--to wonder just what he'd had to do. "And were you able to do it?" I asked.

  "Not yet. But I will." There was determination in his voice. "Lives depend on it. Many lives."

  Whose? His? Or someone he loved? Probably the latter. He sold Onadyn--a crime that had destroyed the life he'd built--to save aliens. Not many people would do the same.

  I probably wouldn't have, I was ashamed to admit.

  "We don't have a lot of time," he said with a sigh. "They'll grow tired of our conversation soon enough."

  And when they did, they were going to kill me.

  How could I have forgotten, even for a moment? Just like that the cell seemed to crumble around me. Stay calm.

  "How's your arm?" Erik asked.

  "Hurts a little." No reason to deny it. I'm sure my usual sun-kissed skin was pale. My eyes might even have been blood shot. I needed sleep. Real, safe-in-my-bed sleep. I needed more of that numbing paste. Most of all, I needed assurance that we'd find a way out of this.

  Erik approached me and knelt between my knees. He cupped my cheeks, forcing me to face him. I drank him in, concentrating on him rather than reality. His dark eyes, with their long, spiky lashes, mesmerized me. His full, pink lips--lips that would have been pretty on a girl but somehow made him all the more masculine--enthralled me. The wide set of his shoulders enveloped me.

  Concern blanketed his features as he studied me.

  "I'll be okay." I hope.

  "I'm proud of you," he said. "You're injured, but you haven't broken down. You could have run away, but didn't. You've never experienced anything like this, but you're holding your own."

  "Th--thank you." I felt like a weak link and here he was praising me some more.

  "You were questioned, I imagine?"

  I nodded, guilt staining my cheeks. I tore my eyes from his and gazed at his shoulder. After everything he'd told me, I hated to admit that I'd told A.I.R. some of what he'd informed me of in the car.

  In a way, I'd betrayed him just as Cara had.

  "How'd it go?" he asked.

  Sighing, I let the entire episode pour from me, leaving out no detail. He didn't stiffen as I expected, didn't curse at me or even scold me.

  "You did good, Camille," he said, surprising me. "A trained agent couldn't have done better."

  "But--but--"

  "A lot of times, people make up stories, telling their tormenter what they think he or she wants to hear. That gets them into trouble because they can't remember the little details and end up changing their story, which makes them look even guiltier. You stuck to the truth, you didn't elaborate, and you didn't let their threats sway you."

  More praise. Wow.

  He traced his thumb over the seam of my lips, exactly like he'd done before. Only this time, he lingered. His eyes darkened, heated. I experienced another of those delicious shivers.

  I didn't compare to Cara in looks, I knew that. Even that woman, Mia, had known it. But Erik was peering at me as if I were exquisite. I was probably dirty, definitely had wrinkled and bloodstained clothing, but he didn't seem to care.

  "I'm sorry for the way I treated you at school," he said. "I'm sorry for ignoring you."

  I nibbled on my bottom lip, moistening the trail of fire his thumb had left behind. "That's okay."

  "No, it's not." He gave my head a little shake and his hands tightened around my jaw. "You deserved better than that."

  My heart hammered inside my chest. Not from pain. Not anymore. And not from fear, which I should have been feeling as time continued to slip away. I felt wild and excited and eager.

  Kiss him, one part of me said.

  He might reject me, the other part replied.

  Uh, hello. Are we looking at the same boy? He won't reject you. And so what if he does? Nothing ventured, nothing gained. You're brave now, remember?

  A.I.R. will think you lied.

  They already do. Well, decision made.

  Without asking permission, I leaned forward and gently pressed my lips to Erik's, careful not to hurt him. I didn't care who was watching, who was listening, or what they thought of my actions. There was only here and now. Only Erik. Only a kiss...

  Wonderfully, his head titled to the side, angling for better contact. His tongue slid into my mouth, hot, touching mine, tasting. Tingles moved over my skin, warm and drugging. One of his hands tangled in my hair and our tongues thrust together harder, faster.

  His spicy male scent enveloped me, drowning me in everything that was Erik. Blood rushed through my veins, awakening feelings that I'd never experienced before. A need to go further, all the way to the finish line. I didn't want to die without experiencing sex. Without knowing all of him.

  Delicious, I thought. Wondrous.

  More.

  Slowly, however, he pulled away. His breathing was labored and so was mine. I kind of expected A.I.R. to burst inside the room, guns blazing. But a moment passed, and they didn't.

  "Did I hurt you?" I asked softly, eyeing the cut on his lip. I ra
n my tongue over my own lips, taking in the moisture he'd left behind.

  "It was worth it," he said, his voice low, husky. His eyelids were at half-mast and he gave me a soft, sweet (too quick) kiss. "I wanted to do that the first time I saw you."

  My face scrunched in confusion. "At the club?"

  "No." He shook his head. "At school."

  I laughed, surprised that I was able. "You didn't even know I was alive until today."

  "We already covered this. I did notice you."

  That's right. He had. Slowly I lost my grin. "Why did you ignore me, then?"

  "My first day at school, I was shown around the building. Do you remember?"

  "That doesn't answer--"

  "Hear me out."

  "Fine. Yes. I remember." I'd been at my locker, talking with Shanel, and he'd passed me. First I'd caught a glimpse of pale hair and then my gaze had dropped to his jean-clad butt. As if he'd sensed my scrutiny, he'd turned and our eyes had locked. I'd felt the air seep right out of my lungs.

  "You were with your friend and you were laughing about something," he said. "A laugh that was uninhibited and completely free. Made me turn around. And when I saw you, your cheeks were rosy, like now, and your hair had come undone from its pins, framing your pretty face."

  Pretty? Me?

  He smiled wryly. "I wanted to be the one to make you laugh like that, to put that color in your cheeks. But I had a mission and I couldn't lose sight of that. You would have been a distraction I couldn't afford so I pretended you didn't exist."

  "I--" Didn't know what to say. I tore my gaze from his, staring down at his chest. Where his shirt gaped, I could see the black cat tattoo. He'd noticed me that day. He'd really noticed me. Not just the necklace, but me.

  All this time, I'd thought I was invisible to him.

  "I don't want to die," I whispered. I needed to experience more of his kisses.

  "I know. I don't want you to die, either."

  "What are we going to do?"

  A long sigh slipped from him, fanning my nose. He leaned toward me and placed a soft, lingering kiss on my left cheek, then a soft lingering kiss on my right. "We're going to escape," he whispered. "We're going to escape."

  9

  There were no windows, no doors that I could see. Not even a visible seam in the wall, where the agents had come and gone so freely. Yet I knew the door was there. I just didn't know how we were going to get it open.

  Erik must have read the confusion on my face because he smiled and whispered, "Trust me."

  I did, I realized. I'd come to trust him. Everything he'd said about A.I.R. had been true. "I do." He'd worked here. He knew the ins and outs, knew the players we were up against. Escape, though, wouldn't prove easy. We were under intense scrutiny, our every move monitored.

  "Thank you." He kissed me again, a swift meshing of our lips that rocked me to the core. When he pulled back, he was grinning and I was breathless.

  I watched as he straightened and paced in front of me, left, right, left, right. The cell was small with nothing that could be used as a weapon. The only piece of furniture was the chair I sat upon and it was made of steel and anchored to the floor.

  We needed a miracle.

  I recalled how Shanel had once wanted to be an alien--no, not once, I realized. Earlier today. Wow. Seemed like a full year had passed since we'd driven to the Ship and my entire life had changed. She'd wanted superpowers, mind-control powers, something, anything.

  For once, I wished to be an Outer, too. Who cared if you were taunted? Who cared if you were considered ugly? As long as you could protect yourself, as well as those around you, nothing else mattered.

  "You able to walk?" Erik asked me. He scratched his ear and flattened one hand against the wall.

  "I--think so." I hurt everywhere now and weakness beat through me with heavy fists. But I'd force myself to walk to the end of the Earth if needed. Erik trusted me to do my part, and it was time I proved I was strong.

  "Good." He paced to the other side of the cell, scratched his other ear, and once again flattened his palms against the wall. "What about running? Think you can run?"

  If he'd given me time to respond, I would have asked why he was speaking so loudly since A.I.R. was listening. But he didn't. He dove on top of me, knocking me out of the chair and onto the cold, hard ground. I lost my breath, struggling to suck in air as his weight pinned me.

  Boom!

  A loud, screaming explosion rocked the cramped space. Metal chips and chunks of debris rained all around us. Even on top of us. A large piece slammed into Erik's back and he hissed through his teeth.

  Seconds later, an alarm screeched to life.

  The air grew thick and black with plumes of smoke. I coughed.

  "Stay low to the ground," Erik said. He rolled off me, grabbed the wrist of my injured arm, and jerked me into a crouch.

  I winced, instinctively trying to pull away.

  He eyed me in confusion, realized what he'd done, and gave me a quick smile. "Sorry." He wrapped his fingers around my other arm and tugged me forward. "This way. We don't have much time."

  Somehow he'd managed to blow up an entire wall, presenting us with a wide opening. We crawled over metal and rock and into an empty, smoking hallway. Again, I coughed.

  Erik stood and helped me do the same. I swayed and he wrapped an arm around my waist. The floor was cold on my bare feet.

  "There should be agents out here," he muttered.

  We trudged forward and rounded a corner. "Where'd you get the explosives?" I asked as we moved. Bits of debris dug into my heels, but I didn't let it slow me down.

  "The man I work for demands that all of his employees wear flesh-colored explosive tape behind their ears. It's virtually undetectable. Until it's too late," he added with a grin.

  My mouth fell open in horror. "What if you'd blown yourself up?" If I had the tape, I would have been terrified of such an occurrence. And I might not have approached him or even gotten within a hundred yards of him if I'd known he wore it. I certainly would not have kissed him!

  "Couldn't have blown myself up. The tape is made of a chemical that doesn't become active until it comes into contract with a certain metal--the very metal A.I.R. is comprised of."

  Okay, wow. Ingenious.

  "What I want to know is where all the agents are," he said.

  Yeah. Me, too. He was right. It was weird that they weren't here. Phoenix, Mia, and Cara hadn't seemed like the type to let us waltz out of here without a battle royale. "Do they want us to escape?"

  He frowned. "They're idiots if they do, but in all the years that I've known them, they've never let someone walk out the door. Something had to have happened. Something big to draw their attention away from us."

  After several twists and turns, we raced down another hallway. How Erik knew where we were going was a mystery to me. All the hallways looked the same. Silver, nondescript. Ominous.

  "The computer should be shouting our identities and what sector we've breached," he said, "but the ID scans are off." He sounded confused. "Why would they turn the ID scans off?"

  He wasn't speaking to me, I knew, so I didn't bother trying to answer.

  Each time we came to a small, black box on the wall, he popped open the top and jerked out some of the wires. "That should keep some of the agents from following us, if they ever get their asses in gear."

  A door slid open at the far end of the hall and two agents appeared. They'd gotten their asses in gear, I guess. They pounded toward us, guns raised. But there was surprise in their eyes, as if they hadn't expected to see us.

  Erik shoved me to the side and rushed them. I stumbled and hit the wall with a yelp, watching as he ducked and kicked out his leg, knocking the agents together before they could squeeze off a shot. One fell on his side and dropped his gun. The other fell but maintained a strong grip and finally fired.

  A yellow stream of fire slammed into the wall, just above Erik's ear.

  Erik jump
ed on top of the man and the two rolled on the ground, punching each other. Only then did the weapon skid a few feet away. Both men were fluid and lethal with every blow, going for the groin, the trachea. But they were both good at blocking, as well.

  Should I try and help? Or would I hinder?

  No time to think about that now.

  I watched, wide-eyed, as the second gunman rose and shook his head to clear the dizziness. He scowled as he searched for his weapon. Adrenaline rushed through me, giving me strength, and I sprinted forward. Yesterday I would have run in the opposite direction. Anything to avoid danger.

  Today I ran toward it, wanting to protect Erik the way he'd protected me.

  The agent beat me to the gun, but his attention was focused on Erik as he aimed.

  "No!" I shouted, drawing his gaze.

  He swung at me and I ducked the way I'd seen Erik duck. I kicked out my leg, trying to trip him. Unfortunately the guy didn't topple as he'd done for Erik. He did waver, though, and that gave me the opportunity I needed to throw myself at him. We flew backward. He twisted us midair so that I took the brunt of the fall. On impact, I sputtered and gasped for air.

  The guy rose to his knees and aimed the gun at my chest. My mouth dried in fear but I didn't stop fighting. I hadn't escaped my cell to die here. Acting instinctively, I jabbed my fist up and into his nose, rolling as I did it in case he fired.

  He hissed and did, indeed, fire.

  The beam nearly hit my shoulder, but ended up singing the ends of my hair instead. An ashy, sickening scent filled the air; I struggled to my feet. A second later, the guy screamed. Erik was there, right behind him, kicking him in the stomach and knocking him down.

  Only when the guy was writhing in pain and holding his side did Erik grab the gun. He tugged me to my feet. "If he follows us..." I said.

  "He won't. Kidney shot. Gets them every time," he told me. Then, to the man, he said, "Where're your friends?" He aimed the gun, barrel pointed at his heart.

  "Morevvs," the agent said through clenched teeth. "They've attacked the outside of the building."

  Silver, I thought, wide-eyed. How had he known we were here? Erik and I shared a glance. "Tracking device," he said, answering my unspoken question.