The Decaying Empire (The Vanishing Girl Series Book 2) (7 page)

BOOK: The Decaying Empire (The Vanishing Girl Series Book 2)
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Caden pounded on the door anyway. “What have you done with her? Why is she so . . . ?”
Different
. Just like every other teleporter who came back. But he couldn’t bring himself to say it.

The Project had made her disappear, that much Caden already knew. But the way she reacted when he’d brought up Desiree—she hadn’t been suffering from PTSD like he thought. She’d been a woman with a vendetta.

Could Desiree have had something to do with Ember getting spliced? He squeezed his eyes shut. Of course she could have. If the Project asked her to compromise Ember’s identity, she wouldn’t hesitate to carry out the orders. But that would mean that Dane was involved as well.

Caden shuddered. He’d always known, deep down, but he’d had to repress that suspicion while under the Project’s roof; otherwise he’d likely kill Dane on sight.

The worst part of all of this was that both Dane and Desiree were simply doing their duty.

Duty
. He didn’t know what that meant anymore. He tortured information out of targets on a regular basis in the name of duty. His victims had all been national security threats. So had Ember. Where was he supposed to draw the line in the sand?

He leaned against the door and bowed his head. Caden could still see Ember’s face when she’d realized Richards’s men had been coming for her regardless of what she agreed to. She’d thought he’d betrayed her. Caden pinched his eyes shut. Worse, in the moments after she’d been wrestled to the floor, she’d worn that haunted, broken look that Eric had before Richards moved him and Serena. Caden had helped seed the bleakness in Ember’s eyes by asking her to stay.

Because you’re a pussy who’d rather she live with her wings clipped than have her risk her own life escaping. Without you.

And now he had no idea where she was.

CHAPTER 6

A
nother damn hospital room.
That was my first thought when my eyes fluttered open.

My nostrils flared at the smell of antiseptic. Definitely alive—unless hell was way more perverse than I’d ever imagined it.

“Evening, Ember.”

My limbs seized up at the sound of Dane’s voice. I turned to look over at him, sitting in a flimsy plastic chair next to the bed. His arms draped over the armrests, his hands clasped.

“You bastard,” I said, my voice hoarse.

He narrowed his eyes. “Seems you haven’t lost any of your charm.”

“Where am I?” I pushed myself up in bed, belatedly noticing the tug of an IV that had been inserted in my wrist.

“The facility.”

I closed my eyes and inhaled, making an effort to relax my muscles. “How long have I been out?”

“About a day.”

Short, clipped responses. This was not what he was here to talk about. Not that I cared about his agenda.

“Where’s Caden?” I asked.

“You’ll see him soon enough.”

I angled my eyes at him. “He doesn’t know I’m here yet, does he?”

Richards’s mouth thinned. I’d always gotten the impression that he was a misogynistic prick. His reaction now only confirmed my suspicions. Seemed Dane the Dick hadn’t changed his opinion of the fairer sex since I’d been gone, if his mannerisms were anything to go by.

“At least we know you’re still useful at reading people,” he said.

I clenched my jaw. That was all teleporters boiled down to here—weapons to use. And like all weapons, we were only as good as our abilities.

Richards leaned forward in his seat. “Wondering what the hell is going on?”

I stared back at him, unflinching. “What do you think?”

His face was grim. “You were spliced on your last mission, and you and I both know exactly why that happened.”

Dane sharing information with me
and
being honest? This was new. “Admitting to sabotaging the mission?” I asked.

I could see his dislike for me written all over his face. “By some miracle you didn’t die from your wounds.”

“Why even try to save me?” I asked, interrupting him.

“You’re a smart girl—you figure it out.”

Appearances. That was why. No one would assume the Project tried to kill me if they worked valiantly to save my life. And perhaps keeping me alive afforded the scientific community the chance to study me. I suppressed a shudder at the thought of people handling me during all those months I’d been unconscious.

The corner of Dane’s mouth rose slightly, though he didn’t look amused in the least. “You were never supposed to be woken up.”

“Then why wake me at all?”

“Caden,” Richards sighed.

When it came to my pair, the two of us were always on the same page. “What about him?” I asked, my voice less snarky than it had been.

“He hasn’t been doing so well since you disappeared. I’d hoped he’d pull through it, but he’s only gotten worse. He blamed himself for your
. . .
death
.” Dane leaned back in the chair and assessed me. “He’s going to die soon if he keeps going at the rate he is.”

I’d seen enough of Caden’s torso to notice that he’d gotten reckless.

“That’s why you woke me,” I said, putting together what he hadn’t said. “To help him.”

Richards nodded. Typical that an old boy such as Dane would see the situation in this light—that I’d be some sort of Florence Nightingale and nurse Caden back to health.

Regardless, the man’s intentions were decent. Just when I’d written him off as completely soulless too. He had to up and do something redeemable.

I maintained that he was still an asshat.

“So that’s what had you waiting at my bedside to tell me?”

Richards leaned forward. “You know the conditions that brought you here. Caden’s recovery is the only thing keeping you alive. You pull a stunt like you did back at the hospital or you try to escape again, and you’ll die for real this time.”

I had a half hour to mull over Richards’s words before rapidly approaching footfalls broke the silence outside my room. Not that I’d spent any of that time actually considering his words. You could only hear so many threats before they lost their shock value.

The footfalls stopped at my room. The door swung open, and then Caden filled the doorway. “They just told me you were here.” In three long strides he crossed the room and got into the bed with me.

Naturally—because this was Caden after all. Good to know that some things never changed.

He gathered me to him. I gave him a watery smile and touched the side of his face.

Caden leaned into the caress, his brows pinching together. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “So, so sorry.”

He kept repeating it over and over again until I moved my fingers to his lips. He stared at me, his face a mask of remorse.

Tentatively I began to trace the contours of his lips. His eyes fluttered shut. Only now that I wasn’t on the run could I truly appreciate the circumstances I’d found myself in.

Caden had abandonment issues. I remembered this from before. And I’d gone and abandoned him, just like everyone else who’d ever mattered to him. In some ways the man across from me was more broken than I was. And that brokenness, which had made him so reckless, was what brought me back to life. So we seemed to be in each other’s debt.

“It’s okay,” I said. “The Project would have found me regardless.” So long as the GPS device was beneath my skin, Richards could pinpoint my location. I would’ve ended up here one way or another.

“I’ll make this right,” he said, his voice pitched low.

He leaned in, then paused.

“Hesitation is lethal,” I reminded him.

He flashed me a grin, free of his angst, and his mouth pressed against mine.

I dragged my hand through his hair as my lips parted. He kissed me like a man possessed. As though I might disappear at any moment.

His tongue caressed mine, the contact deeply intimate. It reminded me of all the other ways I knew this man.
Man
. Somehow that word fit him better than
boy
.

I broke off the kiss. “Can we get out of here?” I breathed.

Warning flashed in his eyes.

“Out of the
infirmary
,” I clarified. Like I was in any condition for a prison break.

He gave me a sly smile. “Let me work my magic with the nurses.”

He stood to go, so I grabbed his hand and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “I love you,” I whispered against his callused skin.

He glanced back down at his captive hand. Slowly his gaze rose, and the emotion that flickered at the back of his eyes made my breath catch. Someone less trained in reading people would say they saw lust. But I knew the emotion that shone back at me wasn’t that.

It was fervor. Faith. Conviction on the deepest level.

Salvation.

I followed Caden to my room, my pulse skittering along. The idea of returning to it had me on edge. Like I could go back to my life as usual knowing all that had come to pass.

Caden stopped in front of the door. He took a deep breath and glanced at me from the corner of his eye. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was nervous.

He opened the door, and suddenly I understood what had him fidgeting next to me.

My eyebrows nudged up as I stepped inside and took the place in. It wasn’t my room anymore. It was Caden’s. His pictures lined the walls, and a bookcase rested opposite the bed.

The apprehension that had filled me before I entered the room had vanished. I could live in a room that bore no resemblance to what had originally been here.

“Made yourself at home here, did you now?” I asked, walking over to his bookcase. When I threw Caden a glance over my shoulder, his eyes were grief filled.

I didn’t mention that this arrangement was much preferable to being alone. My life danced along a knife’s edge—I wanted someone beside me who was also concerned about keeping me alive.

“Angel, we’re doing this together or not at all.” Again Caden’s words left no room for argument.

I turned back to Caden’s bookcase, mostly to distract myself from this man who had replaced the boy I loved. My fingers skimmed over the book spines. I paused when I came across one of my own books. It was the romance novel I’d caught Caden reading in this very room almost a year ago. The memory had a hazy feel to it.

The spine now had several more lines bent into it. By all accounts Caden had read this book many times over. That brought a smile to my lips until I realized this might just have been another way for him to feel close to me. Inside some stupid romance novel that my parents had carelessly thrown into the suitcase they’d packed for me all those months ago.

For some reason that, more than anything else, made my chest tighten.

As if he couldn’t help himself, Caden came up behind me. He brushed the hair away from my neck. I stilled when I felt his rough fingers trail along the skin. His touch was hesitant, unsure. Strange when some of my final memories of him and me were anything but.

The softest of kisses followed. His lips brushed over me, right where my shoulder met my neck.

I swiveled to face Caden. He was staring at me like I was one of the Seven Wonders of the World. A girl could get used to these kinds of looks.

We held each other’s gaze for an eternity. Those complex hazel eyes offered up so many unspoken thoughts.

“My memory never did you justice,” he breathed. “You’re perfect.” Achingly slow he leaned in, his eyes lowering to my mouth.

I tilted my face up, and our lips met. The kiss began as a slow burn, and we savored each other the way one would a fine wine.

Time seemed to collapse as we melted into each other. It had always been like this with him. The violence that was our lives faded away when we were together. I wondered whether he felt the same. Judging by the way he held me—like I was the only thing anchoring him to this world—he probably did.

Ever so gently I ran my hands along his chest and arms, familiarizing myself with this older, roughened version of Caden.

Before, I’d thought there was no softness to his body. I’d been wrong; there must’ve been, because now he felt impossibly harder, sharper.

Under my finger goose bumps rose along Caden’s skin. He groaned into my mouth, and the kiss sped up until we were breathless. I dropped my hands and tugged on the edge of Caden’s shirt.

He broke off the kiss, his chest heaving, so that he could pull his shirt up over his head. Like before, I caught a glimpse of his body.
Beautiful
was not a word one often used in reference to the male form, especially not when that form was riddled with scars. But right now it was the only word to describe his ferocious appeal.

Then Caden’s lips were back on mine, moving against me hungrily.

My hands replaced my eyes, grazing over his chest. Fingers rolled over small ridges of scars before skimming over the rounded contours of his abs. Yes, Caden had that dangerous, scarred beauty, and damn, it appealed to me on a primal level. I reveled in his familiarity. His smell, his taste, the feel of his hair between my fingers.

His hands drifted to my hips and he lifted me, wrapping my legs around his waist.

His lips left my mouth to trail kisses along my jaw. “Angel,” he murmured. The pitch of his voice made me want to cry.

I stroked a hand along the side of his face. “Don’t be sad. Not right now.”

His throat worked and he nodded, and then he took possession of my lips once more. As he did so, he walked us to the edge of his bed and sat down with me in his lap.

I pressed myself even closer to Caden, but it didn’t satisfy me. I’d almost lost everything, and I had no reason to believe I’d get to keep this man or this life much longer.

Caden must’ve been thinking along the same lines, because he lowered me onto the bed.

He knelt between my legs, and his hands fell to my hips. Caden stroked the skin there, his touch featherlight. I made a small noise at the touch, bringing a smile to his lips. Slowly he peeled back the scrubs I wore, his eyes drinking in each inch of exposed skin. “You’re paler than I remember,” he said, almost to himself.

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