Chapter One
Four Weeks Later
Harsh tree bark bites into my skin, digging into my shoulder blades. The cheap, worn-out black tank top I bought from a gas station does little to protect me from the terrain of this damn forest.
My calves tremble before giving out, and I slide down the trunk. A rogue strand of hair drifts across my face as I sag against the bark.
“Get up! If an enemy were fighting you right now, you’d be dead.”
My eyes roll so hard they might get stuck. “Give me a second to catch my breath. You’re insane.”
We’ve been training for the last six hours without a single break. My stomach’s growling so loud it hurts, and I’m physically and mentally tapped out. There’s no way I can keep up with Leo’s strength or stamina. He’s bulked up from the endless drills he forces himself through.
Leo’s the active one. Me? I’d rather curl up with a book, take long baths, maybe a nap or two. I’m a couch potato at heart.
Nature? Physical activity? Hard pass.
This is how Leo copes. He pushes his body until it breaks. He barely sleeps. He hardly eats.
We’re falling apart.
Since the night Mom died, we’ve been on the run. Some nights, we sleep in his truck. Others, we crash in creepy, rat-infested motels with roaches and mold growing on the walls.
It’s all we can afford with what’s left in Leo’s bank account. We’re living in survival mode. Leo’s been cautious—paying only in cash, using fake names.
Everything I owned went up in flames that night.
The only things I had left were the clothes on my back and a broken heart. Leo had his wallet on him. It’s the only reason we’ve made it this far.
“We’ve been at this for hours,” I sigh, dropping my head back against the tree, my eyes drifting up to the bright blue sky. “Give me a break.”
“You give up too easily.”
“Enough is enough. You’re hurting yourself, Leo. Your body needs rest.”
His nostrils flare, and he tips his head in frustration. “No. We need to condition and prepare ourselves for the worst.”
My attention drifts to the makeshift campsite in the bed of his truck.
I wish things were different.
“We don’t have a choice,” he adds.
“We can’t do this forever.”
He rubs the back of his neck. “I had a vision. I saw a rogue group of people training somewhere near Portland. My gut tells me we should go there next. If we find them, I think they can help us.”
His visions.
The ones he keeps to himself.
In our world, some people are born with special abilities. Others aren’t. Everyone in my family has powers except for me and my mom.
Draven and Joaquin share the same abilities: telepathy and telekinesis. Joaquin spent Draven’s entire life molding and turning him into a clone of himself.
Copy and paste.
Leo sees visions of the future, can heal wounds, and has shielding—he can block people from reading his thoughts.
He and Mom kept his foresight hidden from Joaquin for years. She said it was to keep him safe. To prevent him from being turned into a weapon.
Not that it mattered. Joaquin made it perfectly clear that Leo and I meant nothing to him.
“When did you have this vision?” I ask.
He stares into the distance, expression blank. “Last night.”
The thing about having a twin? I know when he’s shutting me out.
“Are you sure this is the right call? What if they’re Aether Hunters?”
“They’re not. I wouldn’t send us there if I thought we were in danger.”
I tear a leaf apart near my shoes, shredding it into tiny pieces.
After that night—during our long drive—Leo told me the truth.
Secrets Mom and Leo kept from me.
Secrets Joaquin and Draven built their lives around.
Joaquin created an organization called the Aether Hunters. His goal is to recruit anyone with abilities and control them. If you refuse, you’re eliminated. He uses his followers—his hunters—to do the dirty work, building a dangerous regime fueled by fear and oppression.
You join, or you die.
Mom knew. She tried to stop him.
And he killed her.
Leo and Mom were spying on him for years while keeping me completely in the dark. Leo claims they wanted to protect me, and while I understand, it doesn’t ease the hurt of being left out for so long.
My mind drifts to the past, searching for a time when we weren’t constantly terrified of Joaquin and Draven.
It wasn’t always like this.
When we were young, our family seemed perfect. Joaquin appeared to love us. At least, we believed he did.
Something shifted one day. I remember it like it happened yesterday.
Leo sits beside me on the floor, tearing into the perfectly wrapped present. Christmas is his favorite holiday. He loves the green and red lights, the jingles, the magic behind it all.
I’ve always preferred Halloween. I love dressing up.
He swings his superhero figure through the air, his infectious smile lighting up the room. “Wow, I love it. Thanks, Mom and Dad!” Leo cheers, admiring his new toy.
“I’m happy you like it,” Mom beams, kissing him on the forehead. Her hair lifts gently in the breeze. She’s wearing a white and yellow dress.
She’s gorgeous.
I hope I look like her one day.
“An action figure? Really?” Draven scoffs. “How old are you?”
“Draven,” Mom scolds. “Leave your brother alone.”
Dad steps in, tall and imposing, his shadow falling over us.
Leo and I inherited his features, while Draven took after Mom, with her platinum blonde hair and brown eyes.
“No, Rose,” Dad says coolly. “Draven’s right. Leo is ten now. I gave Draven his first dagger when he was six. It’s time Leo learns what it means to be a man.”
Leo’s face crumples, the excitement disappearing. He was so excited for that action figure. He talked about it for months, stopping whatever he was doing every time the commercial aired.
“Why don’t you leave the fighting to me and let him play with his dolls?” Draven taunts.
He’s never been particularly kind to Leo, but today, he’s crueler than usual.
Dad stands abruptly and grabs Leo by the wrist, yanking him up and dragging him toward the backyard. I trail behind, following Mom and Draven as dread pools in my stomach. I don’t know what he plans to show Leo, but I wish he’d leave him alone.
“You see this?” Dad says, holding up a blade. He presses it into Leo’s small hands. “I want you to aim at that tree over there.”
He steps behind Leo, adjusting his body into position, guiding his stance. Leo’s shoulders cave in, like he’s trying to protect himself. He’s the gentlest soul I know. He wouldn’t hurt a fly.
“But, Dad—” I start.
“Shush,” Mom hisses. “Not now, Lia.”
“He won’t do it,” Draven says smugly. “Why don’t you let me show him how it’s done?”
That smile of his sends a chill through me.
Why ruin Leo’s favorite holiday?
This madness needs to stop. I take a step forward, but Mom’s hand tightens around my wrist—a silent warning that stops me in place.
“Well?” Dad barks. “Are you going to throw the damn thing or make me do it for you? Come on, boy.”
Leo lifts his arm and hurls the blade toward the tree, but it falls short and lands in the grass.
Dad snatches up the blade and shoves it into Leo’s face. “Pathetic. You’re no son of mine if you can’t do something as simple as throwing a blade.”
Leo recoils, eyes wide with shock.
“Be nice to him!” I shout.
“Lia,” she warns in a whisper. “Don’t.”
“But—”
Dad raises his hand and strikes Leo across the cheek. The smack echoes louder than any Christmas carol.
I tear free from Mom’s hold and sprint toward Leo. I wrap my arms around him, shielding his small frame with mine. “Don’t touch my brother!”
“Lia!” Mom cries.
Dad’s eyes turn stormy as they land on me.
Mom steps between us, her face pale. “Lia, take Leo and go inside.”
Leo’s eyes brim with tears. I gently run my fingers over his reddened cheek. “It’s okay,” I whisper. “I’ll get you some ice.”
We walk hand in hand toward the house, leaving Draven in the backyard with Mom and Dad.
That was the day everything changed.
The day Joaquin was no longer our father.
The truck rumbles beneath me as I stare out the window, watching raindrops streak across the glass, each one chased away by the next.
The drive to Portland is about ten hours. The only time I’m not training is when we’re on the road, heading toward another temporary destination. I should use this time to rest, to recharge, but the unease gnawing at me won’t let up.
What if we don’t find anyone?
Or worse, what if we do?
There might be others like us, but trusting anyone now feels impossible. Not after what we’ve endured. I’ve seen what people with abilities are capable of. I’ve lived it. I want nothing to do with them.
I’ve barely eaten today, not that I could.
My appetite vanished weeks ago, somewhere between the nonstop training and the grief I haven’t had time to face.
With clammy hands, I reach for the white bottle.
Unscrewing the cap, I toss back two small tablets and swallow them dry.
My stomach’s been in knots for days. I threw up everything I ate yesterday.
Nausea isn’t new when I’m under pressure, but since that night, it’s been constant. I can’t stop worrying about running out of pills before we reach the next pharmacy. I hate that we’re spending what little money we have on me.
Leo had a decent amount saved from working at the restaurant, but we would’ve had more if I hadn’t lost my wallet in the fire.
Our lives imploded overnight.
No jobs.
No home.
No family.
Up until that night, Leo and I lived relatively normal lives. We both worked as servers at a local restaurant, and I was taking psychology courses at the university.
On the surface, we seemed like everyone else.
Underneath, our lives were anything but ordinary.
Joaquin and the Aether Hunters have made people with abilities targets. They live in constant fear, always looking over their shoulders.
Leo’s words from a few days ago won’t leave my mind.
“Joaquin and the Aether Hunters have been invading homes for years. If you agree to follow him, you go. Refuse, and you’re killed.”
I thought his hatred was personal. Never once did it cross my mind that he was a murderer. The man I once called Dad has blood on his hands.