Page 14


After several moments, when I could feel Jack’s eyes boring holes into our heads, I pulled back. It was amazing how quickly I felt rejuvenated. Cole, on the other hand, looked like hell. Whatever he’d been through in the past two days, it wasn’t good.

And yet as he stared at my face, he smiled and spoke again in a language I didn’t understand.

“Cole, why aren’t you speaking English?”

He shook his head and said some more stuff. The last word sounded like “Engelsk.”

“You can’t speak English,” I said skeptically, guessing at the meaning behind his foreign explanation.

Cole nodded.

I glanced at Jack, who shrugged at me in an I-have-no-idea kind of way.

I looked back at Cole. “Uh, yes, you can. What happened to you?”

He watched my mouth as I spoke, and then looked at my eyes and shook his head, shrugging. He’d obviously understood my question, so what the hell was he talking about?

I looked back at Jack. “We have to get him out of here.”

Jack nodded. “Do you feel strong enough to go tell Christopher we can take it from here?”

“Yeah.” I smiled. “I feel like I could leap tall buildings in at least a double bound.”

Jack smiled, the relief that I was alive—at least for now—evident in his eyes. “Okay, I’ll get Cole to the car.”

We split up so I could tell Christopher that we would take the strange foreign guy with us, but Cole started to follow me instead. “Cole, go with Jack.”

He glanced at Jack and then looked at me warily.

“It will be okay,” I said, and then I realized that I was comforting the guy to whom I had been pledging my undying hate only hours before. It was as if my body wasn’t big enough for the two conflicting emotions. “Just go with Jack.”

I could tell that he understood me, but he didn’t budge. I’d have to reconcile my feelings toward him later. For now we just needed to get him out of here.

“Okay. Come on.” I waved to Jack, indicating that I would take Cole with me. From the time I found Christopher to the time we got to the car, Cole didn’t let me get more than two yards away from him. Even in the car he sat in the backseat but leaned forward so his head was resting on the side of my backrest.

Somehow, Jack drove the car while keeping one eye on the road, one eye on me, and a third narrowed and on Cole.

I turned in my seat so I could face him. “Cole, tell me what happened.” I spoke slowly, hoping that would help him understand.

He shrugged. “Jeg vet ikke hva som skjedde.”

I looked at Jack to see if he had any clue what that meant, but Jack shook his head.

“Okay, Cole, I’m going to ask you questions, and you just nod for yes and shake your head for no.”

Cole nodded. Jack rolled his eyes. “He understands. Just speak English!”

“Shh,” I said, putting my hand on Jack’s arm. “He’s obviously freaked out right now.” I turned to see Cole staring at my hand. I dropped it. “Do you know who I am?”

He nodded.

“Do you know what happened to you?”

He closed his eyes for an extended blink, then opened them and shook his head. He looked so sad, but I knew from all the ways he’d betrayed me before that his looks could be deceiving.

I told myself I wouldn’t let it happen again. I would get to the bottom of this, but I would not be taken in.

“Okay, Cole. You’re okay now. You understand English. Now we just need to get you to speak it. Repeat after me. My name is Cole Stockton.”

“My name is Cole Stockton.” He said it with a thick accent, but at least he said it.

By the time we’d almost reached my house, he was speaking in full sentences. It took him a few tries and imitating my own words for something inside his head to click; and even when he spoke English, he still did it with an accent. The accent sounded Scandinavian, and I remembered that Cole had been born in Norway. Was he speaking Norwegian?

Jack pulled over about a block before he reached my house. “I don’t feel good about going back to your house.”

“Why?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Obviously, something has happened to Cole. Someone ransacked his condo. You almost got nabbed by a guy with black eyes. We don’t know where the band is. I just don’t feel very . . . safe.”

“What do you suggest? We can’t go to your house.”

Cole leaned forward even more. “We can search for an inn. A place to lodge.”

Jack and I both looked at him. “A place to lodge?” Jack said.

“Yes,” Cole said. “To board.”

Jack shook his head at me, obviously noticing the strange words such as lodge and board. “We’ll figure out why Sir Cole is talking like a knight later. Right now, let’s find a hotel.”

“Hotel?” Cole said with a questioning expression.

Jack ignored him and turned the car back toward the center of town. He pulled over when he saw an ATM and got out of the car.

When he returned, he said, “I drained my savings. That should give us enough for at least a couple of nights. I want to avoid using my emergency credit cards.”

“I don’t want you to waste your money. Are you sure we’re not overreacting?”

“I’m sure,” Jack said.

“What do we do after we find a hotel?” I asked.

“We sleep. We get you feeling better. Then tomorrow we’ll continue on with . . . our plan.”

“What plan?” Cole said.

I narrowed my eyes at Jack. Maybe Cole was faking his memory loss so that he could spy on us.

“Nothing,” I said.

We ended up at the Silver King Lodge. It was the largest hotel in the area, which meant it was our best chance to go unnoticed. Jack checked us in using his cash. I stayed out of sight of the front desk. It wasn’t as if my face was familiar enough for anyone to notice that the mayor’s daughter was spending the night in a hotel with two guys, but I didn’t want to take any chances. I could just imagine that phone call to my dad.

While Jack checked us in, I texted Jules to see if she could cover for me so I could tell my dad I was sleeping over at her house. She responded and said she would and then asked if I was okay. I told her yes and thanked her, then I texted my dad so he wouldn’t worry about me.

Cole stayed by my side, seeming confused but following my every move. Shadowing everything I did, much like a child would a parent. Once we had our room, I ushered him in, Jack following behind us, and shut the door. Cole sat down on one of the beds and then flopped onto his back, rubbing his eyes.

“What’s happening to me?” he said.

Jack narrowed his eyes skeptically and leaned against the closed door.

I sat by Cole and brushed a clump of dirty hair out of his eyes. His blond strands were barely visible underneath inches of what looked like caked mud. His eyes looked so blank, as if they were windows to an empty room.

But was it empty inside? I yanked my hand away.

“Cole . . . look at me,” I said. He obeyed. “You remember my name?”

He frowned. “You’re Nikki.”

“But do you know who I am?” I said. I didn’t mention the fact that he had so naturally kissed me or that since then he’d stuck to me like glue.

He tilted his head sideways as if he were trying to remember what had happened only twenty minutes ago. His lower lip started to tremble. “I only know that I had to find you. I’m supposed to be with you.”

“Shhh,” I said, taking his hand in mine. “You’re okay now. We were supposed to meet up last night, but something happened. Do you know where Max, Oliver, and Gavin are?”

“Who?”

“The rest of the band.”

“What band?”

I sighed. “The Dead Elvises. Your band. You, Max, Oliver, and Gavin.” I said the names slowly.

He furrowed his brow and looked from Jack back to me, as if he were waiting for one of us to tell him this was all a big joke.

Jack shoved his hands into his pockets and shook his head. “I don’t think he’s faking,” he said.

“Everything he does is fake!” My outburst surprised me. Cole flinched at the venom in my voice. I took a few deep breaths. “Sorry. We’ll figure it out later. Can you get some rest?”

Cole nodded; and as if all he needed was my permission, he rolled over toward me onto his side, taking the bedspread with him. He didn’t even bother to orient himself toward the head of the bed. His eyelids sagged shut, and within moments he was asleep.

I looked up at Jack. “We can’t let him out of our sight like this.”

“I know,” Jack said.

“But I don’t want to be stupid either. If it is a trick.”

Jack pulled me over to his bed and clasped my hand. “We can’t afford . . . You can’t afford to lose him. If he was faking . . . what purpose would it serve? Especially considering what we saw at his condo.”

“Who’s to say the black-eyed man doesn’t work for Cole?” I said.

I knew I was being completely unreasonable with that accusation, but I couldn’t help it. It was the product of my recent spiral of hate for him.

Jack put his arms around me and held me tight. “But why would Cole do it? He was getting everything he wanted, namely you. Every night. He was in the power position. They were building an army. So why would he fake amnesia?”

“I don’t know. I just can’t think about anything else.”

Jack glanced at Cole, making sure he was asleep, and then he put his lips at my ear. “Do you want me to help you think about something else?”

I looked into his chocolate-brown eyes and let Jack’s calm nature wash over me. What was the danger? We had Cole back. I was safe for now. We had a plan to take down the Everneath. I didn’t know if it was my renewed energy or the fact that neither of us had been able to relax in what seemed like a long time. Or maybe it was the fact that Cole was more than asleep—he was passed out on the other bed.

“I bet I can make you forget about Cole before you make me forget about him.”

Jack’s lips twitched. “Betcha can’t.”

“Hmmm.” I looked again at Cole. He had the bedspread over his face and was snoring softly. I turned back to Jack. “I think I’ll take this hot hoodie off,” I said in a fake-breathy voice.

For a moment Jack stood transfixed, a worried look in his eyes. But he couldn’t help a smile. “The way you say ‘hoodie’ . . .” He glanced at Cole.

“Don’t worry,” I said with a grin. “He’s out cold. Plus I have a T-shirt on underneath. And a tank on under that.”

“You and your many layers.”

When I crossed my arms and grabbed the hem of my sweatshirt, I moved slowly and deliberately, pulling up on the fabric until I turned it inside out and ripped it off. My hair fell in messy curls all around me.

I heard Jack’s intake of breath.

But then a quick movement from the other bed caught my eye. Cole had ripped off the bedcovers, sat up, and was now staring at me. “You’re beautiful,” Cole said. “Do that again.”

The blood rushed to my cheeks. I searched for something to throw at him, but then I caught the look on his face. It was pure, innocent joy.

I waited for his smile to slip into a smirk or for one hint that he was faking, but nothing happened. He never would’ve said that in front of Jack—with such a complete lack of guile—if he remembered the beating Jack had given him.

“Stop looking at her,” Jack warned.

“I’m in a T-shirt!” I said. These guys were acting as if I had stripped down to a teddy or something.

“I can’t,” Cole said. “She’s glorious, isn’t she?”

Jack tensed, and I rushed to his side to hold him. “Let it go,” I said.

Cole looked up at us, confused. “What? She is, isn’t she?” He looked to Jack as if expecting confirmation.

Jack’s previous patience with Cole had been eradicated. The lines around his lips and eyes tightened, and he clenched a fist.

I handed Jack the room service menu to occupy his mind with something else, and to give him something to tear apart if he needed to.

“Cole, go to sleep. You’re obviously exhausted. Jack, order room service. Extra French fries.”

Jack raised an eyebrow—he knew I only used French fries for extreme emergencies—and then nodded and sat at the desk.

Cole just watched me from the bed.

“What?” I said.

He grinned expectantly. “What comes off next? The T-shirt?”

Suddenly a pillow hit him in the face with enough force to sound like a gloved fist. The seam of the pillow split on impact, and feathers went flying.

“So . . .” Cole blew a feather off of his shoulder. “No?”

Jack tried to give me an accusatory look, but the tight lines around his mouth faltered.