Chapter 15
Nova
Locke’s hands won’t stop shaking.
He’s dressed — Rane gave him a shirt, Trey found pants in one of the packs — but his fingers keep curling and uncurling like they’ve forgotten how to be hands. He’s sitting on a fallen log and I’m crouched in front of him.
Nobody’s talking. I don’t think anyone knows what to say.
But I’ve been here before. Phoenix. Right.
Which means, I’m probably up.
I keep looking at his wrist. The black mark. My mark, except burned into his skin like a brand. Where Shadow’s lines used to be there’s just… me… It… That.
He catches me.
“Stop staring at it.”
“I’m not staring.”
“You’ve looked at it four times in the last minute.”
“It’s my mark on your wrist, Locke. I’m allowed to be weird about it.”
He almost smiles. Then it’s gone and he’s back to staring at his hands.
“Hey.” I wait until he looks at me. “You were beautiful.”
Oh god. That just came out of my mouth. His eyebrows go up and my face is on fire.
“Are you seriously stealing my line right now?” Kyron says like he’s offended.
I try to ignore it.
“Not the time, idiot.” Rane says, hitting him over the head gently.
He could have hit him harder. Just a little.
“I mean — the panther. That’s what you were. You had these cracks in your skin, like fire, and your eyes were —” Worse. This is getting worse. “I just mean it wasn’t scary. You were the opposite of scary. You were—”
“Beautiful.”
“Shut up.”
“You said it.”
“I’m taking it back.”
“You can’t take it back.”
“Watch me.”
His mouth twitches.
Kyron moves closer. “Sorry to break up this little moment, but we should probably keep moving.”
Locke nods and I hold out my hand. He looks at it — me, pulling up the biggest guy in the group — and takes it. His grip makes me pause. Ever since I shifted, everyone feels colder. Especially Kyron. But Locke? Now he feels the same as I do.
We’re moving, and my body hates me for it.
The forest changes. Trees spaced wider, undergrowth trimmed back. Maintained. This isn’t the border anymore. This is the actual interior of Memory territory.
I keep looking between Locke’s mark as his arms shift, and Vaelor. He’s not okay. He looks uncomfortable here, and this is his home.
My feet hurt. My everything hurts. Three days of hiking and then bears and then sprinting barefoot through some crazy forest on zero sleep. I’m running on spite at this point.
I’m barely paying attention when Trey starts talking. “Are we going to talk about Nova lighting up like a candle?”
I give him a look because murder is messy.
“What?” He says innocently.
Rane smirks, meeting my eyes. “It’s alright, Sparky. We don’t mind.”
Oh my…
“Speaking of…” Vaelor says behind me. “Locke, you really are a cute little kitten.”
Locke makes a sound that isn’t quite human. “Shut it.”
“What?” The innocence on Vaelor’s face is offensive. On a man that size it’s borderline criminal.
I laugh before I can stop it and immediately slap my hand over my mouth. Rane’s grinning. Beckett’s shoulders are shaking. Trey’s biting his lip white.
“I will end every single one of you,” Locke says. But he’s too exhausted. Too wrecked. We all are. I catch the look in his eyes. He might even be a little grateful someone made it normal.
“Very scary. Especially now that we know you’re a cute little—”
Branch snaps too close for comfort.
Everyone stops.
Locke’s in front of me before I process that he moved. Kyron’s eyes are doing the thing where they glow again. I really want to know what that’s about.
A man crashes through the trees.
Not carefully. Definitely not quietly. He’s running, and when he sees us he skids to a stop and throws both hands up, breathing hard.
“Wait — don’t —” He’s bent over, catching his breath. “Don’t go any further into Memory territory.”
He’s older. There’s a scar running from his temple into his hairline. Dark clothes. No weapons that I can see. He looks like he’s been sprinting for a while.
“Who the fuck are you?” Locke says.
The man straightens, still breathing hard. His eyes move across us — counting. I can see him doing it. Scanning faces. One, two, three, four, five, six — he pauses on Trey. Frowns.
Then his eyes land on my wrist.
He stops moving.
“It’s you,” he says. Almost to himself.
“Hey.” Locke steps forward. “I asked you a question.”
“My name is Brent Archer.” He’s still looking at my wrist. “I intercepted a border communication. Unauthorized shifters crossing into Memory territory. I thought —” He looks at the group again. Counts again under his breath. His eyes keep coming back to Trey. “I thought there were only six of you.”
Trey goes rigid beside me.
“Brent, no shit? It’s me, Trey.”
Brent’s head snaps to him. Genuine surprise.
“Trey? You’re with them?” He looks between Trey and the rest of us. “The system didn’t flag you as part of this cluster.”
“The system doesn’t know a lot of things,” Trey says carefully. “What are you doing here? Silas said you were reassigned.”
“Silas is an idiot.” Brent lowers his hands slowly. His breathing is evening out but his eyes keep drifting back to my wrist. To the mark. “I’ve been trying to find her. But I didn’t — I wasn’t sure until just now.”
He takes a moment to check our surroundings.
“We don’t have long. Follow me.”
Every single one of my guys moves closer to me.
“We’re not going anywhere with you,” Locke says.
“We’re headed to the Holt estate,” Vaelor says. Steady. “My grandmother—”
“The estate was seized by the Order six months ago.” Brent says it flat. Like ripping off a bandage. “Your grandmother isn’t there.”
Vaelor goes white.
“What?”
“The Order moved on the estate after your cluster was flagged. Anything connected to you became a liability.” Brent pauses. “She’s safe. She’s where I’m taking you.”
“Where?” Vaelor’s voice is barely controlled.
“Close. But we need to move now. Border patrol has already been alerted and if you keep heading into Memory territory they’ll find you within the hour.”
Vaelor doesn’t move. He’s staring at Brent like he’s trying to decide if this man is telling the truth or feeding them to the wolves.
“How do I know she’s actually safe?”
Brent meets his eyes. Doesn’t flinch. “Because I’ve kept her safe for the last six months. And I’m trying to do the same for you.”
Vaelor holds his gaze for a long time. Then nods. Once.
“And why should we trust you?” Kyron asks.
Brent looks at him. Then at me. Not like I’m a target, but like he’s relieved.
“Because I’ve spent twenty years inside the system that’s hunting her, and I walked away from it.” He pauses. “That should tell you something.”
I look at him. At his hands, still visible. At the scar. At the way he ran through the woods to warn us rather than report us.
“I’ll go,” I say.
“Nova—” Locke starts.
“I’ll go.” I look at him, at all of them. “If he wanted to turn us in he would have called it in instead of running here himself.”
“She’s right,” Trey says quietly. “I know him. He was one of Laith’s. If he’s here and not there, he left for a reason.”
“Or he was sent,” Kyron says.
“He wasn’t sent.” Trey is certain. “Trust me.”
Locke looks at me. I don’t know why I trust this, but I do. Something in my gut that I’ve learned to listen to because it’s kept me alive all this time.
Vaelor nods. Once. Because his grandmother is out there and this man knows where.
“Fine,” Locke says. “But I’m between you and her the entire time.”
Brent almost smiles. “I’d expect nothing less.”
He turns and starts moving, along the border so we don’t move farther into Memory territory.
We follow.
I don’t look back.