Unforgotten (39 page)

I walk slowly from room to room, grazing my fingertips over the walls, the wood paneling, every square inch of the furniture. Committing it to memory all over again.

I need them to be real. The memories I have of this place where I lived. Where I slept. Where I fell in love.

I need them to be mine.

Not stolen. Not triggered. Not transferred from a glowing green cube. But mine. Made in the moment. And stored directly in my head.

“Sera,” Kaelen warns from somewhere behind me, “we don’t have time for this. My tracker is already 25 percent healed.”

I ignore him and keep walking. Down the hallway, turning the knob on the first door.

A bedroom. My bedroom.

I don’t know how I know but I do. It just
feels
like mine.

The furnishings are sparse, reminding me of our quarters at the Pattinsons’ house. There’s a bed, a nightstand, a desk, a chair, and two lamps. A picture frame hangs above the bed, the image cycling through several different landscapes. Sunrises. Meadows. Seashores.

There’s a window in one of the other walls. It looks into the yard. Green grass surrounded by the high concrete wall that Zen used to climb when he would come see me.

The comforter on the bed is a light lavender. I wonder if I picked it out. Or requested it. Was it my favorite color? Because of my eyes?

Or was I not given a choice in that either?

“Sera!” Kaelen calls from the doorway. “We need to move. NOW. Where is the antidote?”

With a sigh, I stand up and walk out of the bedroom, glancing back longingly. Part of me doesn’t want to leave. Part of me wants to curl up on that bed and wait. Wait until Zen comes back. Wait until he climbs over that wall again. Wait until my life becomes simple once more.

But I know that can never happen.

I close the door and continue back up the hallway until I reach the living room. Kaelen stands in the middle, looking terribly out of place. He doesn’t belong in this house. He doesn’t belong in these memories.

This house is mine. Mine and Zen’s. Mine and Rio’s.

But he’s here anyway. Reminding me of why we came. Why we risked everything to be here.

I snap to attention and make my way to the bookshelf on the far back wall of the room. I scan the titles rapidly, running my finger along the spines.

“Why are there so many?” Kaelen asks.

“Rio used to collect them.”

“Are you looking for one in particular?”

“Yes.
The Giving Tree
.” I don’t look up. “I remember seeing it in one of my memories of this place. It was on the bookshelf behind me when I was sitting on that couch.”

“Why do you think that it has anything to do with this?”

I decide not to tell Kaelen about the little girl in the memory. For some reason, it feels like a betrayal of Rio’s trust. Like he shared that memory with me and only me. And I have a feeling if that one memory was capable of rising above all that messy chaos, then it was significant to him.

She
was significant to him.

And if he wants to keep it a secret, then I will help him do that.

So instead, I just reply vaguely, “It was important to Rio.”

Kaelen appears next to me and starts scanning the collection. There are over two hundred books on this shelf. My finger grazes past
A Wrinkle in Time
, the book I was reading when I first met Zen, and my heart flip-flops.

I glance down at my wrist. The thin black line is 50 percent complete.

I force my eyes to move faster, whizzing past the titles until finally they flicker upon the familiar faded green spine. The white letters.

The Giving Tree
, by Shel Silverstein.

I carefully pull it out and flip it open. I fan through every single page, taking in the text in a matter of seconds. Absorbing the story. Realizing instantly how very meaningful it is.

A tree who gave everything she had to the boy she loved.

Her apples, her branches, her leaves, her trunk, her shade.

Until there was almost nothing left for her to give.

I turn the final page, and there, in shallow compartments carved into the thick board of the book’s back cover, are two tiny vials of sparkling, clear liquid.

Without speaking a word, I carefully remove each one and close the book, placing it back on the shelf.

Kaelen hurries over and stares in amazement at the two bottles of salvation in my hand.

“I can’t believe how much trouble we’ve gone through just to find
that
,” he remarks.

I nod, releasing a small chuckle.

It is amazing how much power these two vials hold. Zen is sick. Dying. And this, this tiny thing in my hand, no more than few drops, is the only thing that will save him.

“What are you going to do with the other one?” Kaelen asks, leaning over and gazing into my hands.

“I don’t know,” I admit. I guess I hadn’t really thought that far ahead. “Save it in case of emergencies, I suppose.”

“I’m rather insulted that you wouldn’t think to give it to
me.
”

The voice comes from behind me, causing me to jump. The vials slip from my fingers and plummet toward the ground. Kaelen moves fast. Faster than I’ve ever seen him move before. His hands are extended in front of him, cradling the tiny bottles before they even hit.

When I turn around I already know who I’ll see.

His voice is ingrained in my memory.
Burned
into my skin. The fire may not have been able to leave a lasting scar, but
his
voice? His voice will stay with me forever.

He greets me with a cold, snakelike smile. “Welcome home, Sera.”

64

PAIRED

Dr. Jans Alixter sits in a chair that, similar to Rio’s hospital bed, hovers just above the floor. Like it’s floating magically in the air. I immediately notice how frail he looks. His skin is yellow and sallow. His eyes are sunken in. The same dark purple hues I saw on Zen’s face shadow his as well.

And that’s when I realize what the chair is for. He can’t stand on his own. He’s too ill.

“Alixter,” I breathe out his name, feeling the pure hatred on my tongue as it passes.

He’s flanked on either side by two burly-looking guards. I don’t recognize any of them as the men who came to find me in 2013. But then again, if they had the transession gene in them, they’re probably sick, too. Maybe even dead.

“I see you’ve located what we’ve been looking for,” Alixter says, grinning at me and gesturing toward the two vials, which are still protectively cradled in Kaelen’s hands.

I look at Kaelen, who is back on his feet. But for some reason, he won’t meet my gaze.

“Kaelen.” Alixter turns his attention toward him. “Thank you for bringing back our little lost merchandise here.”

He remains silent but his head bows in the slightest of nods.

“He didn’t bring me back,” I argue. “I came here willingly.”

“Are you quite
sure
about that?” Alixter counters, breaking into a ragged cough. One of his guards hands him a handkerchief. He wipes his mouth and the white cloth comes back speckled with blood.

“After all,” Alixter continues, clearing his throat, “you’re here. With the antidote. Just as I commanded.”

The truth is, I’m not sure. Not about anything.

How did Alixter know we were here? Our tracking devices haven’t completely re-formed. Did Kaelen somehow get a message to him?

I turn to Kaelen and stretch out my hand. “Kaelen,” I say gently, “please give me the vials.”

But he doesn’t move. He seems to be frozen. As though his body has stopped working completely.

“Of course I’m sure,” I lie, glaring spitefully at Alixter. “He doesn’t follow your orders anymore. He follows his own.” I peer back at Kaelen, standing inches from me. “Right?”

But again, he doesn’t answer.

Alixter feigns pity. “Awww … that’s cute. Did you really think your charms would work on him like they did on poor Zen? You don’t actually think I would let that happen, do you? That I wouldn’t protect against that sort of thing when I had him created? Do you really think I’m
that
stupid, Sera?” Alixter makes a clicking sound with his tongue. “Well, that’s just offensive.”

“Kaelen,” I urge one more time, pronouncing his name gently, compassionately. I take a slow, cautious step toward him. He flinches and instinctively retreats. Like I’m some kind of dangerous criminal. Like he’s actually
afraid
of me. I freeze. My heart is pounding.

This can’t be happening.

I refuse to believe that this was just another manipulation. I refuse to believe that he tricked me.

I know him. I
felt
him. We felt each other. We shared something.

He
changed.

I saw it in his eyes. I saw the shift. I simply can’t bring myself to accept that it was all a lie. All part of an act. Part of his programming.

Alixter lets out a throaty, sinister laugh that sends a thousand tiny ripples down my back. “See, that’s just priceless,” he says, wheezing.

He pushes a flat button on the arm of his chair and it starts to glide smoothly toward us. I retreat, my back hitting the bookshelf.

“Kaelen,” Alixter says in an authoritative tone, “congratulations. You’ve successfully completed your mission. I knew I could count on you. Now hand over the antidote.”

He reaches out, palm up, and waits.

I wait, too, my breath caught in my chest.

I watch Kaelen. His face twitches ever so subtly. The sign of that same internal battle being waged.

“Kaelen.” I repeat his name. “Remember the submarine. Remember the kiss. Remember how that felt. Hold on to that. That is real. Whatever sensation you’re experiencing right now, whatever power he holds over you, it’s fake. Please, Kaelen. Just give me the vials.”

His face flinches again but he still won’t look at me. His gaze is locked on Alixter, who’s smirking smugly.

“Come on,” Alixter coaxes. “Hand them over. This is an essential part of your mission.”

“Don’t listen to him, Kaelen. Give them to me.”

Kaelen’s foot rises, taking an indecisive step. I can’t tell which way he’s headed. Which side is going to win.

But as soon as his foot lands, I know I’ve lost.

He’s headed directly toward Alixter. Away from me.

“NO!” I scream. I launch myself toward Kaelen, letting my legs carry me as fast as they were built to go. I land on top of his shoulder, but he easily shoves me off with a flick of his arm, sending me flying across the room. I hit the bookshelf hard, feeling it slam into my back. Several of Rio’s precious antiques come pouring off the shelf, piling on top of me on the floor.

I look up to see Kaelen gently placing the vials in Alixter’s outstretched hand.

But I can’t let that happen. I can’t let him have them. I rise to my feet again and sprint toward him. But his guards step forward, forming a protective circle around him.

Meanwhile, Kaelen handles me, thrusting an arm out. The heel of his hand connects with my face. I feel something crack. Blood splatters.

“Restrain her,” Alixter commands, coughing into his handkerchief.

Kaelen doesn’t hesitate. He grabs me, pinning my hands behind my back. I manage to turn my head, meeting his gaze. I search for the other Kaelen. The one I know I saw once.

But he’s gone.

A pair of cold, lifeless blue-green eyes stare back at me. As though that other version—the one I kissed, the one I slept against, the one I trusted—only existed in my imagination.

Maybe Alixter is right. Maybe I was naïve to think he was ever on my side. That I was ever able to break through to him. Maybe it really
was
a ploy to get me here. To get the cure.

I melt to the ground, blood trickling from my nose, into my mouth. Kaelen’s hands stay pinned around mine. I can feel that heat passing between us. That energy. I wonder if he feels it, too. I wonder if he ever did.

“It’s a shame,” Alixter says, shaking one of the vials. “I have no doubt Dr. Maxxer
did
intend for these remaining two doses to be given to her lover and her son. But Rio clearly has no use for it now. And Zen … well, I’m afraid he’s just unlucky.”

Zen?

Son?

Alixter’s words drift through my mind as I struggle to find a place where they make sense. Where they fit.

Zen is Maxxer’s
son
?

Maxxer is Zen’s
mother
?

Is that what she meant when she told Rio to
find him
? Was she talking about Zen?

No. That can’t be.

Why wouldn’t he tell me?

Every time I tried to bring up Maxxer or anything relating to Diotech Zen would shut down, switch off, close me out. He refused to talk about the past, wanted me to forget it, wanted to pretend it didn’t exist.

I remember something he said to me on the morning before he got sick, when he came to find me outside. I asked him if he missed his former life.

“I had nothing there,” he replied. “Except a mother who cared more about her latest research project than her own family.”

Was he really talking about Maxxer?

Was that how he got the idea for us to run away into the past? Was that how he even knew about the transession gene? Because his mother invented it?

If all of this is true, then Maxxer honestly did think she was protecting him by leaving Rio those doses. That’s what she was trying to explain to me last night, when I was hysterical. She told me to trust her.

She thought Rio was going to find him and save him.

She had no idea Rio was nearly dead.

And what about Rio? Why
didn’t
he come find Zen earlier? Why didn’t he heed Maxxer’s request?

The answer comes to me before the question has even had time to fully sink in to my brain.

He did.

He came to 2013. He was looking for me. He found me in that dilapidated barn. He was trying to warn me. And then Zen showed up with the gun and took me away. And Rio never got the chance to accomplish what he’d set out to accomplish.