Chapter 16 Parker
Gravel crunches beneath my feet, two walls of dense forest encasing me as I sprint along Neurovida’s long, winding driveway.
Under the cover of darkness, I can barely make out my own hands, let alone Rose, who’s somewhere ahead of me.
Lungs burning, I push forward. It’s been seven months since my powers were taken and Rose carried me into the past. Seven months since solid ground pushed back against my feet, now aching with each stride.
How strange to forget the pull of gravity on my body and cool air on my face.
If being away has affected Rose, I can’t tell. When we first appeared inside Neurovida’s tall, wrought-iron gates, she swore, clutching her hands over her temples. But within seconds she’d taken off, gravel and dust flying. Now she’s in her element.
Probably because I’m not weighing her down. She could’ve left me the moment I lost my powers, but she stuck by me, regardless of the immense mental and physical toll it’s taken on her. I owe her my life.
I come to the edge of the forest, the driveway widening to encircle a large, gushing fountain.
Neurovida’s outdoor lights are on, bathing the grand home in warm light.
The lush gardens surrounding the immediate vicinity of the house remain pristine, each perfectly trimmed hedge lit from below.
I follow Rose around the side of the home, her back flattened against the bricks.
I slump against the wall beside her, each ragged breath breaking the eerie silence.
She turns and presses her index finger to her lips. Unable to speak, I only nod. We barely escaped here last time. If we’re caught again, I doubt we’ll be so lucky.
After a moment, Rose gestures with her head and takes off down a small pathway leading to the back of the home.
I glance at my left wrist and follow her, forgetting that the watch once permanently glued there has now gone.
Seven months and I’m yet to kick the habit of checking it at least fifty times a day.
I’m guessing it’s past midnight, with only the stars to guide us as we sneak further inside Neurovida’s walls.
At the back of the property, the ground slopes downward toward miles of thick, untouched forest. We climb down the slope to a wooden landing with a metal door, partially hidden from the upper levels of the home by its multiple grand balconies.
Rose grips the door handle and I hold my breath, praying Neurovida’s staff haven’t discovered its faulty locking mechanism.
The door opens with a loud click, and we slip inside.
I don’t ask her where we’re going. Even in the dead of night, I know Neurovida like the back of my hand.
I’ve lost blood, sweat and tears training under this roof.
Made and lost best friends. Fell for the love of my life, all here within these walls.
This was home. Now it’s an execution chamber.
Matthews made sure of it the day he took everything from me.
I try not to think of Ella, but every door I pass leads to a room bursting with her memory—her gentle laugh, her peaceful presence, her soft curves. There are so many things I wish I’d done differently. Too many words left unsaid.
Rose stops in front of another door, and I frown at the small keypad to the right of the handle.
“Was that there before?” Rose whispers, her voice unusually high.
“No. They must’ve brought in tighter security measures since we left,” I say.
“There’s no way we’re getting in. Let’s go,” she says, grabbing my arm.
“Wait.” I examine the keypad. “I’ll get us in.”
Rose’s head whips back and forth, surveying the empty corridor. “Parker, if you get this wrong, there might be an alarm. We can’t be found here. Let’s go back and work on honing my skills. I’ll travel us directly into the room.”
“We’re here now,” I say, eyes glued to the keypad. “I need to try.”
Footsteps echo along a connecting hallway and I hold my breath, a bead of sweat dripping down my temple. Calm down, it’s only a cleaner. Or do they already know we’re here?
“Parker,” Rose begs.
“Get ready to travel.” I take a deep breath and enter five digits into the keypad, each responding with a small beep.
Rose’s fingers dig into my shoulder, tiny prickling sparks emanating from her contact point.
The footsteps grow louder and her hand trembles.
Another thirty seconds and we’ll be discovered.
I enter the last digit, earning two short beeps.
The light above the keypad flashes red and my heart palpitates.
Fuck. Maybe I don’t know McGregor as well as I thought.
“Parker, please,” Rose repeats, voice trembling.
“Wait,” I mutter. Electricity races into my body, collecting in my chest; Rose readying to travel at a second’s notice. The footsteps draw closer.
“If we get caught, I’ll kill you myself, Parker,” she growls.
I roll my shoulders, take another deep breath and press my finger to the panel.
The steps are louder now, and close. Too close.
We have ten seconds at best. I enter the fifth digit and my finger blurs, like thousands of tiny pixels jumping from my skin—the effects of Rose exerting her power to travel us to safety.
“Hold it, Rose,” I order. Not daring to blink, I enter the last digit, earning a longer beep from the keypad, a green flashing light and a small click. I rip open the door, haul Rose inside and shut the door behind us. Breathing heavily, we wait behind the door until the steps recede.
“Told you I’d get us in,” I say with a smug grin and turn toward the room, drawing in a breath of leather, coffee and old books.
A wave of nostalgia warms my chest. McGregor’s pushed his computer to the edge of the desk to make room for the stacks of papers scrawled with his looping handwriting.
His cardigan’s draped over the back of his chair, probably left behind in his preoccupation with another impossible theory.
A photo of the son he lost still sits on the shelf beside his desk, between volumes of encyclopedias and scientific journals. It’s as if no time’s passed at all.
I cross the room and run my hand along the dark timber desk. “What date is it?” I ask Rose, still standing by the door.
“I don’t know, my watch doesn’t Wi-Fi update like the—” Rose’s jaw drops, her focus on the tall figure materializing in the space between us.
The one man in the world I hate. The man who took everything from me.
“Matthews,” I say, the word tasting like ash on my tongue. He takes a step forward on mismatched feet. “Nice choice of footwear. Still having trouble, are we?”
A muscle tenses in his jaw. “Not as much trouble as you.”
A growl leaves my throat, my sight condensing to tunnel vision, lined in red, Matthews at the center.
I don’t know why he’s holding his hands up in front of his chest. And I don’t care.
He’s a dead man. Suddenly, escaping here with McGregor’s journal isn’t as important as wrapping my hands around Matthews’ neck.
I want to hurt him like he’s hurt me. I want to kill him.
Matthews takes another step toward me, his deep voice filling the room. “Parker, listen to me.”
Not a chance. I swing at him but he vanishes, reappearing just out of arm’s reach.
“Parker—” he says, but his words are clipped short as I lunge again.
I’m left holding nothing but air as Matthews materializes behind McGregor’s desk. Fuck, how’s he doing that?
Matthews’ dark brows draw together. “I’ve been trying to find you two for—”
“Why did you do it?” Rose asks, her voice filled with thick, rare emotion. “I trusted you.” Her hands curl into fists. “She trusted you.” Her voice cracks and the sound claws at my insides. “And you sold us out. Why?”
Matthews turns toward her, and I have my chance. I grab a glass paperweight off the desk and hurl it at him. It strikes his cheek with a satisfying crack and he crumples to the floor, hand pressed to his eye. Blood spurts between his fingers.
Twisted pleasure balloons in my chest at the sight of him on the floor, but before we can grab him, he vanishes. Rose and I wait with rapid breaths, watching the space where he disappeared.
“Holy shit,” Rose says, her wide eyes like two black coins. “He knew we were going to be here. Let’s find McGregor’s research notes and get the hell out of here before he comes back.”
“I still can’t believe we’re doing this,” I say. “I can’t believe you’re doing it. After all your lectures about keeping the oath and lying low.” Rose has always been a stickler for rules, and after all the grief she’s given me about Ella…
“It’s not like we’re stealing. It’s his work. We’re just… giving it to him early.”
I open my mouth to argue when someone bangs on the door.
“Fuck,” Rose says.
“Start looking.” I shoot to McGregor’s desk while Rose beelines to his computer. “It won’t be on there. He’s old school. We need to find his research journal. It’s handwritten.”
I yank the top drawer from its hold, rummage through the contents and toss it into the corner of the room with a loud crash.
There’s no point in being quiet now. Whoever’s on the other side of the door might not have access, but it’s only a matter of time before someone shows up who does. Or Matthews reappears.
“What does it look like?” Rose yells, rummaging through piles of papers stacked on top of the desk.
“It’s an A4, brown leather-bound book. I’ve seen it here so many times.” I tug open another desk drawer, adrenaline pulsing through me. More people are shouting from behind the door now.
“We need to go,” Rose says.
“We can’t come back. We get it now.” I yank the bottom desk drawer, but it’s locked.
“Parker,” Rose repeats. The noise outside grows, and the banging on the door continues.
“It’s in the bottom drawer.” I flip the heavy wooden desk upside down. The computer crashes to the floor, papers and pens following. “Help me.”
We shove the desk against the door, and I kick the locked drawer, over and over, swearing each time it doesn’t budge. My chest numbs at the faint beeping of a code being entered into the keypad.
I grab a trophy from one of the office shelves and smash it into the base of the drawer. The wood splinters, fragments biting into my skin as I rip them away. My heart lurches at the sight of brown leather. McGregor’s journal. “Rose, get ready,” I say, yanking it free.
The office door bursts open, launching the desk toward us. We jump backward, Rose’s hand grabbing my shoulder. Her influence, scorching me from the inside out, wavers as Matthews steps into the room. His face is unharmed, and he’s flanked by guards with their weapons drawn.
I shove Rose behind me, but my foot catches on something and we both stumble.
Her power hits me like an explosion, engulfing my body and traveling us from the room.
But not before the gun fires. Or before the bullet slices through my skin.
And somehow, we are simultaneously falling and ripping through time.
I tense for impact, but when I open my eyes I’m standing in a sunken garden, and Rose is unconscious on the ground beside me.