Chaos (Lanie Bross) - Lanie Bross Page 0,46

was something else just under the surface. Something familiar that made her veins feel filled with electricity. With immense hunger.

Blood.

She sat up quickly, clutching the blanket to her chin. For a second, she didn’t know where she was and panic raced through her.

Then the sound of rain brought it all back: the attack. The chase. How Ford had brought her here, to this concealed room, his home. She was safe. She relaxed, letting her dream—or nightmare?—ebb.

The storm still raged outside, and she could hear the waves smashing into the concrete tower. She could smell the mustiness of wet stone, the remnants of long-gone diesel and machine oil. Weirdly, it was kind of pleasant.

Ford was gone. She had a vague recollection of watching him spin water from his fingertips—surely, she’d been dreaming.

She shook off the blanket and stood, still in her jeans and sweater from the day before. Sleeping on the narrow mattress on the rock-hard floor had made her ache everywhere. She tried to stretch out the worst of the pains.

Then her stomach seized up. An awful idea occurred to her.

What if Ford hadn’t left—what if time had shifted again, slid away from her, while she was asleep?

She felt her way down the dark hallway to the door. When she pushed it open, she saw nothing but gray-flecked waves and stormy skies. A fine mist blew against her face, causing her wavy hair to stick to her skin. It was raining, but was it still raining from last night? Or was this the beginning of the storm?

Was she stuck in Monday again?

She pulled the door shut hard. It helped ease her frustration. She needed to find proof—a person, a newspaper, something. She went to retrieve her bag from the room. Her temples started to pound, and she braced for the blinding light. Instead, the dull thudding of a regular old headache pulsed in her head.

Her backpack lay in the far corner, where she must have dumped it the night before. She was glad; she’d almost been afraid she would find it gone. When she reached out to grab it, she saw there was something pinned to the front.

A note, scribbled on a scrap of blank paper.

Jasmine, I have to say goodbye before things get more complicated.

Jasmine had to read the words three times before she could accept them. She sat down hard. She felt like all the air had been pushed out of her lungs.

He had left her. Ditched her, just like that. After everything. After all she had told him—after she’d trusted him. She crumpled his note and threw it as hard as she could. It bounced off the wall and landed next to the cold camp stove.

Screw him.

Hot tears burned the back of her eyes and she scrubbed them away. Who cared if she was alone now? It wasn’t like she had people taking care of her up to this point. Except for Luc, she’d been pretty much on her own. Ford could go jump off the bridge for all she cared.

She shouldered her messenger bag and rifled around the small space, looking for anything useful—money, credit cards, anything. If he wasn’t coming back, he wouldn’t miss it. But there was only the tea and some batteries, a half-full bottle of whiskey, and a crumpled ten-dollar bill.

She grabbed the money, shoved the door open, and stepped out into the gray, wet day. At the last second she remembered that the door had no handle and wedged a small piece of wood into the doorframe to stop it from closing completely. In case she needed to come back for whatever reason.

In case she needed to hide from the Executors. Just thinking the word made her shiver.

Jasmine pulled her jacket tighter and ducked her head. She glanced around as she walked, half expecting the Executors to jump out at her. Would they find her again? They had twice—technically, three times—already.

The chain-link gate felt icy cold under her fingers as she pushed a wide-enough gap to squeeze through. The rain muted all the other sounds that had been hammering in her head. Now the patter of drops hitting the ground muffled the cars honking and the people shouting and the huge machines clearing the earthquake wreckage.

A biting, salty aroma blew off the bay, and it was all she could smell.

She could almost pretend she was normal. Just a regular girl, heading home from school.

There was no one around to notice as she passed the fort. There was only one car in