Played: An Altered Saga Novella Read online

  Sasha led me in farther, and the suite opened up to a state-of-the-art kitchen. In the kitchen stood the Rook.

  “Hey,” he said, and smiled at me. There was a beer in his hand. “Want something to drink?”

  “Sure. A Coke will do, if you have one.”

  He nodded. To Sasha he said, “Alert the others. We’ll be ready in an hour.”

  Sasha saluted the Rook and left, closing the doors behind him.

  “You came,” the Rook said. He turned away from me and dug inside the fridge.

  “I was curious. You said you had something more for me and I couldn’t help myself. Apparently you know the way to my cold, undying heart.”

  He straightened and closed the fridge behind him with the sole of his boot. He came over and handed me a can of soda.

  “Thanks.” I popped the tab. “So tell me what else you have to offer.”

  He took a swig of his beer, still eyeing me. Although he wore a simple white T-shirt and jeans, he somehow managed to look incredibly hot. He tapped a finger against the beer bottle, the silver ring on his middle finger clinking against the glass.

  “Right,” he said. “Straight to business, then?”

  “Always.”

  “It’s better if I show you.”

  “Then do.”

  “You’re not going to like it.”

  “If this is your selling strategy, it isn’t a very good one.”

  He shifted just an inch or two, catching a slant of sunlight. It turned his green eyes so pale, they almost looked white. “One thing you should know about me,” he said, “is that I prefer honesty above all else.”

  “Show me,” I said again, letting the smile drop from my face.

  “This way.” He led me into an office at the back of the suite.

  He set his beer down on a console table and went to the desk in the center of the room. With his boot, he nudged the chair away and bent over the computer keyboard, typing in a few commands, then clicking a few times.

  “All right,” he said, and stepped away from the monitor. “Come see.”

  I wasn’t sure what I expected to find when I made my way around the desk. Maybe logs from the old Angel Serum program, something we could use against Riley as leverage. Maybe photos or something that could incriminate the Branch.

  Instead, I saw a video playing, the volume down low. I recognized the voice a split second before the image came into full view, and something close to fear ran down my spine.

  There, on the monitor, staring back at me, was my brother. And just behind him, arms crossed over his chest, was Riley.

  “What the hell is this?” I breathed, anger turning my voice gravelly.

  “They took him after the car crash that killed your parents,” the Rook said. “They found him in the river and pulled him out.”

  I whirled on him. “Who took him?”

  “The Branch.”

  “How is that even possible? How did they know—”

  “Where to find him? Your dad was ex-Branch. He helped create the Turncoats. The car accident wasn’t an accident, Chloe.”

  My hands tightened into fists at my sides. “This is a ruse. It’s been Photoshopped or—”

  He shook his head.

  “How did you get this?”

  “I have a good source within the Branch. They’ve been supplying me with info, particularly on your brother and Riley, for a few months now.”

  I turned back to the monitor and nudged the volume higher. My brother was describing the symptoms he was experiencing. Headaches, insomnia, muscle aches. The person asking the questions, behind the camera, was Connor.

  He knew. The whole time, Connor knew my brother was alive and he never told me.

  “Where is he now?” I asked.

  “Still within the Branch. He’s—”

  “I have to get him out. I’ve gotten people out before.”

  “Chloe—”

  I started for the door.

  “Chloe, you have to listen to me. Your brother is not the same person you knew before the car crash. He’s been with the Branch so long that he’s—”

  I twisted around again and the Rook nearly slammed into me. “He’s what?”

  “He’s pretty high up.”

  “How high?”

  “Second-in-command now that Connor’s gone and Riley took his place at the top.”

  I frowned, rage and desperation building inside me. “How does something like that happen? I know my brother, and he would never work for a smarmy asshole like Riley.”

  “No,” the Rook said. “You knew your brother. His memories have likely been altered. He probably doesn’t even know himself anymore, let alone you.”

  “I don’t care.” I surged forward again. “I’ll do whatever it takes to get him out.”

  I left the penthouse and the Rook followed me into the hall.

  “Chloe, listen to me.”

  “I don’t need your help.”

  “I know where Riley will be.”

  “I can find him on my own.”

  Before I could reach the stairwell, the Rook grabbed my wrist and spun me around. I yanked my arm back, reaching for my gun.

  “Too slow,” the Rook said, my gun in his hands.

  How the hell did he lift my gun without my noticing?

  He dropped out the magazine, letting it hit the floor with a clack. He emptied out the chambered round, too.

  “You are really starting to piss me off, you know that?” I took a step toward him. “You don’t need me on your mission. Clearly you’re capable enough, so why the hell are you even bothering with any of this?”

  “I do need you,” he said. “And you need me.”

  “Maybe you don’t know this, but a personal vendetta isn’t very personal when you work with a group.”

  “I can get you your brother back by dinnertime.”

  I paused, waiting for the rush of blood in my ears to subside. As good as I was at tracking, even I couldn’t find Riley that fast. It’d take me a few days, at least, and now that I knew my brother was alive, I wanted him back, and I wanted him back right now.

  I set my hands on my hips. “What the hell can I do that you can’t?”

  He smiled, obviously pleased with the slight uptick of interest in my voice. I silently cursed myself for letting on.

  “You can get inside,” he answered. “You’re the one person who Riley will want to see with his own eyes. He’ll want to watch you die.”

  “Problem number one: I don’t actually want to die.”

  “It won’t get that far.”

  “Go on.”

  “The plan is to get you close enough to gas them all. Then we’ll come in.”

  “They’re going to be suspicious when I waltz in with gas canisters.”

  The Rook smirked. “Do you really think so little of my strategizing?”

  I shrugged.

  “I have a plan,” he reassured me. “Are you game?”

  There was really only one answer to that question. “Get me inside with the gas and I’ll be game for just about anything.”

  The smile on his face shone all the way to his eyes. Apparently plotting murder and revenge put him in a good mood. I could relate.

  “Come on,” he said, and strode away. “Let me introduce you to the team.”

  The team was a large group of Turncoats, thirteen including the Rook. Sasha the hairdresser, I learned, was actually the Rook’s tech guy and would be facilitating the mission from a surveillance van two miles away.

  The Rook’s inside source had said Riley and his team would be meeting a few business contacts at a house just outside the city. By the time we’d arrived and settled into our places, the sun was starting to set, sending a diffused, pale blue glow across the landscape.

  The house where Riley was holding his meeting was, thankfully, far removed from its neighbors, with at least twenty acres of land on all sides. The Rook’s team had spread out upon arrival, waiting for the signal.<
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  After the Rook and I left Sasha in his van, we ran the few miles to our entry point—a small grove of trees to the east. Hidden in some underbrush, we surveyed the property.

  There were two Branch agents at the back of the house, and two more at the front. Through a gap in the curtain, I counted four more agents, and the Rook counted an additional three. His source had said there’d be at least eighteen agents present, plus Riley and my brother, Lukas, and three other business associates. That was a lot of people, and Riley was notorious for slipping through the cracks in the middle of a fight.

  But he wasn’t getting away this time.

  “You ready?” the Rook whispered.

  I nodded.

  “Double-check the setup,” he ordered.

  I sighed, but drew my thumbs inside my shirtsleeves, feeling for the two buttons sewn to the cuffs. “Check,” I said.

  “Good.” He leaned closer and pressed his lips to my ear. “Any sign of trouble, you get out of there ASAP.”

  “Copy that,” I said through gritted teeth. This was exactly why I hated team sports. The coach always drove me crazy.

  “You’re a go,” Sasha said through my earpiece. “Team is in place.”

  “Copy that,” the Rook said. He put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “Be careful. Think clearly.”

  “You think just because my brother’s in there I’ll lose focus? Getting to Riley has always been my mission. I won’t let it go now.”

  He smiled and laughed low. “Go get ’em, tiger.”

  With a grumble, I slipped through the trees, keeping my steps light, silent. Although I meant to be captured, I still had to pretend I’d tried for stealth.

  When I broke from the trees, I pulled my gun from the borrowed holster at my side and shot the Branch agent on my right. He dropped where he stood, rustling the bushes as he rolled out of them and to the ground.

  I swung around, aiming for the agent to my left. He’d already pulled his gun and had it pointed at me. I went flat on the ground as a bullet whizzed by overhead. I fired another shot, purposefully missing.

  The agent barreled toward me and I leapt to my feet, raising the gun to eye level. He clocked me across the jaw with one hand as the other disarmed me.

  In less than two seconds, I was lying on the dew-soaked grass, looking up at the darkening sky.

  The man peered down at me, my own gun pointed at my face. The man blinked, and his eyebrows drew together as realization set in. He recognized me. We’d hoped for that.

  Riley had a lot of enemies, but only a few worthy of concern. Nick and his group were high on the list, and I suspected I ranked pretty close to the top, too. Which meant most of Riley’s men probably knew us—knew me—by face.

  A surprised laugh escaped him, painting the darkness with a cloud of glittering breath. “Well, look who it is,” he said. With a flick of his wrist, a zip tie appeared and was quickly tightened around my wrists.

  I played at wriggling beneath his hold, grunting and cussing as he hoisted me to my feet.

  “Riley will be pleased to see you,” the man said as he hauled me toward the back door.

  And just like that, I was in.

  I was dragged in through a massive kitchen, down a hallway, and into a library on the south side of the house. I was confident the Rook and Sasha were tracking my movement through the house and knew exactly where I was.

  “Look who I found outside,” the agent behind me said as he shoved me to the floor. With my hands tied behind my back, I had nothing to brace my fall and slammed against the Oriental rug shoulder first. Pain jolted through me.

  “Get her up,” Riley said.

  The agent grumbled, but hoisted me back to my feet. Now I had a chance to scan the faces in the room. There were three men in business suits near the wet bar, and three agents holding defensive positions near Riley and his associates.

  And four paces to Riley’s right was my brother.

  I nearly choked on a breath at the sight of his face. Part of me had worried it had been some kind of nightmare, seeing his face beside Riley’s on the Rook’s computer screen. That I had imagined it. A flash of a memory came rushing back, of my brother shoving me out the car window as the East River swallowed him up, and for the first time in a long time the burning of tears swelled in my eyes.

  My brother really was alive.

  He’d obviously aged since I’d seen him last, but like a lot of Branch pawns, it hadn’t happened at a normal rate. And that realization registered another fact: the Branch had used Lukas in one of their programs. That was the only reason he would have been given the anti-aging alteration.

  What else did they do to him?, I wondered. Was the Rook right? Was Lukas no longer the brother I knew and loved?

  He wore loose black jeans, a white T-shirt, and a quilted black leather jacket. The Lukas I’d known had always been more of a polo-shirts-and-designer-jeans type of guy. He hated leather.

  On his face, I was sad to see not a thread of recognition. He was staring right at me as if I were a stranger.

  “Gentlemen,” Riley said, “allow me to introduce you to one of our runaway test subjects.”

  The business-suit-clad men appraised me. Riley motioned to an agent for a gun.

  “This one here can’t die,” Riley said, and shot me in the shoulder.

  A cry of pain escaped me, and I staggered back, falling to one knee. I sucked in a breath and glanced at my brother. He hadn’t even flinched.

  “Interesting,” one of the men said. “Is that alteration available?”

  Riley curled his upper lip. “Unfortunately, no. This one and her friends killed the doctor responsible for the science behind it.”

  “Pity,” another man said. “The things we could do with something like that.”

  “Can we see her up close?” the third man asked.

  “Of course.” Riley motioned them forward, and my brother followed.

  The men, and the agents in the room, closed in. My brother hung back, but as the men inspected me, I caught his eye over Riley’s shoulder.

  Over his years with the Branch, he’d grown into his face, the baby fat disappearing to reveal a hard jawline, and hollow cheekbones. His eyes were the same, though, the same as our mother’s—caramel colored and fringed in long lashes.

  The girls must love him.

  “Now, Chloe,” the Rook said through my earpiece.

  My heart leapt in my chest, not from fear, but from heady anticipation and the thrill of getting exactly what I came here to get.

  I drew my thumbs inside my shirtsleeves.

  I noticed Lukas take a step back as the library plunged into a murky darkness. The power lines had been severed by a member of the Rook’s team.

  Riley shouted orders.

  I hit the buttons sewn into my sleeves and the bitter smell of sleeping gas filled the room as two clouds of white smoke hissed from the thick soles of my boots.

  Everyone immediately started coughing.

  My vision teetered and the rapid beating of my heart slowed to a dull drum in my head. My body felt sluggish, like it was weighed down with bricks. Moving one foot felt like moving a mountain.

  Somehow, though, I stepped through my arms, bringing my tied-off hands in front of me, and swung. The double-fisted punch caught Riley at the temple and he backpedaled, bumping into a coffee table and slamming to the floor.

  Somewhere far off, a window shattered.

  “Welcome to the party,” I said to Riley as I slumped next to him. Everything went black.

  The world came back to me in broken sounds. Shouting. Silence. Gunfire. Silence. I took a breath and felt the hot press of it fall back against my face.

  There was something heavy and dark covering my head. My eyes took considerable effort just to open.

  Gas mask, I realized, and dragged myself to an upright position. The zip ties on my wrists had been cut. Through the cloudy lenses of the gas mask, flashes of light lit the darkened room. People fig
hting. The spark of gunfire.

  I felt along the floor next to me but didn’t find Riley.

  His absence brought me to my feet.

  I teetered, unsteady, for a second, but the world quickly righted itself.

  I needed to find a gun. I needed to find Riley.

  “I’m up,” I said, hoping the Rook heard me. “Riley’s gone.”

  No answer.

  I started for the hallway when something hit me from behind. I dropped to the floor again, rolled to my back, and swept a leg out, catching the guy off guard. He fell and I climbed on top of him, landing a punch to his temple. It would have connected better had the guy not been wearing a gas mask, too.

  Only Rook’s team had gas masks.

  The guy hooked his long leg around my midsection and pushed me backward, rolling with the move to give him the dominant position. A knife gleamed in his hand.

  I reached up and tore the mask from his face.

  “Lukas?” I said. I pulled my own mask off. “Stop! It’s me! Chloe. Your sister. Do you remember?”

  The knife came down. I blocked him with both my arms, but he was far stronger than me. The blade came uncomfortably close to my neck.

  “Lukas, please. Listen to me.”

  He gritted his teeth. The veins in his forearms bulged with the strain.

  “Your name is Lukas Monroe Tacktor. Your parents were Margaret and John. You had a sister once, named Chloe, remember? We lived in a white house on Cherry Hill Drive and we always fought over the bathroom every morning and you hated the smell of my hair spray and the sound of my laugh but you loved my grilled cheeses.”

  Tears blurred my vision. I blinked, felt the trace of wetness down into my hairline.

  “Lukas.”

  The point of the knife grazed my skin.

  “Lukas!”

  The strain in his face faded, replaced by a deep-rooted frown and an expelled breath. He pulled away and tossed the knife to the side.

  “You’re… my sister?” he said right before the Rook appeared out of the murky darkness and whacked my brother on the back of the head.

  Lukas slumped over, his eyelids fluttering closed.

  “Why did you do that?” I shouted.

  The Rook knelt beside my brother and secured his hands behind his back. “We have Riley,” he said, his mouth twisted into a smile so wide, I worried it’d eat his face. “We have what we came for, Chloe. Time to move out.”