Chapter 11

We hit the floor of the living room, gasping in the fresh, clear air. I roll onto my side, gasping like a fish out of water.

I can hear other hacking coughs echoing through the room. Slowly I adjust and sit up, ignoring the flash of pain.

Connor and Jon are sitting on the same deep red couch. Luke is warily pushing himself to his feet.

"The girl?" I cough out to Jon. "She's fine. Passed out." My lungs ache, and my side feels like someone is cutting me with a knife but all I feel is tired.

The kind of tired that overwhelms every thought and presses on your brain. "I need to go home." I stumble to my feet. "Wait." Luke states directly at me, his voice as hoarse as mine was.

"How did you do that?" Connor looks confused but I know what he's talking about it. I shrug, too tired to even think about it today. I'm just done. But even just the thought of the men.

The men I killed. They could if had families or wives or people who loved them with all of their hearts and then just nothing.

Eternal nothing.

"Wake up Aria!" My mom's voice cuts through my dream of the three men chasing me with their dead eyes glaring. I roll onto my side, yawning.

It takes me a second to realize it, but there's no pain. I lift my shirt tentatively and it's gone. The graze from the bullet is gone and all there is, is a thin red line. That's it. It looks months rather than hours old. What the effing hell.

It takes me zero time to get ready. My thoughts are consumed by finding Jon and asking him. Working this out because this healing isn't natural. Neither is what I did last night. I have no idea how it happened but I'm pretty damn sure I killed those men. My feet thud down the stairs and I'm almost at the door when I get called back. It's by my dad.

My dad who I almost never see. None of us do, he's in the middle of a new case so he and Victor are out most nights. "Aria. We need to talk to everyone all together." It's not a request. I can tell from his tone that it's an order. I nod, and slide into the family room, the healing will have to wait. It takes a while but Eventually everybody is situated in the room. Soulfinders stick together of course.

To my surprise everyone is here. Even Trace and Victor. The room starts feeling incredibly small, filled with so many bodies. "What is it?" Yves asks and Phee nods beside him.

"There's something you kids need to know." My father's deep bass voice fills the room. He always has had the gift of commanding others attention. The fact that he's 6.5 ft helps too. "Years ago, children were born with this mark. It makes them unable to think for themselves. Eventually it modifies their way of thinking so much that they become a danger to others around them. It was more worrisome years ago but there are still many at large today."

He pauses and glances at us. "We fear they are banding together to kill us all and dismantle the Net. They fought us last night and they all got away. I am not telling you this to scare you. I want you to be ready. They are stronger than us and faster. They do not care about anything or anyone. They will kill their entire family without batting an eye because they feel nothing. They are at large and it's only a matter of time before we hunt them down. But until then, look out for each other and if you find anything, tell us immediately."

His eyes search all of our faces. I can't move. I can't breathe. "This is incredibly serious." All around the room, there's only grave faces. Nods.

"I almost got one. I saw it. It killed people with its mind. I almost shot it but it was gone before the bullet hit." Victor snapped. All I hear I'd the anger, the hate. The contempt, so strong they can't even express me as a pronoun.

It.

That's what he called me. Oh god he meant me. My brother almost shot me. My heart is pounding, either from fear or anger. I really can't distinguish between the two emotions anymore.

My fear feeds my anger which in turn feeds my fear of what I am becoming. But there's still no reaction.

No one cares that my brother almost took a life. Because they don't care. It's despair that falls over me because my own family doesn't even care. Sure they don't know it was me, but they don't care. They believe we're evil. They want us dead.

"What if they weren't evil?" It bursts from me before I can hold it back. My eyes seek out my father's, green meets brown and I search desperately for any trace of compassion.

"Aria. I know you always want to see the best in people but sometimes, there's just nothing there to see."

"I know." I am proud of how steady my voice is. "It was a stupid question."

…..

"Jon?" I call, slamming the door behind me. I wrap my arms around myself, like I'm trying to hold my soul together. Which I wish I could because I can feel it fragmenting.

"They went out." Luke walks out of the kitchen, eyes unreadable. However they study me, taking in the dark circles, red eyes, tear streaks.

"You look like crap." I roll my eyes, "Just what every girl wants to hear." He laughs and I realize he looks no better than I do. "Want to talk about it?" he offers and I'm instantly wary. "With you?" My voice comes out more sarcastic than I thought it would.

"Ouch. Yes with me. I'm kind of the only one here and unless you find talking to unconscious people fascinating, I'm your best bet." I still stand awkwardly. He flops down on the couch, not that it's really a flop, it's far too graceful. "C'mon." He pats the couch cushion beside him. Hesitantly, I lower myself so we're sitting side by side.

"Ok. Let's play 20 questions." I frown at him, brushing my hair out of my eyes. He just smiles at me expectantly, and it just makes me want to melt.

"Why do you hate me?" The smile freezes on his face, and slowly melts away. But soon it's replaced by a warm chuckle.

"You have about as much subtlety as an atomic bomb don't you?" I laugh, relaxing back into the couch, which really is very comfy. "I don't hate you." He finally speaks, and it's in a thoughtful tone of voice that I don't interrupt.

Even though I'm dying to be sarcastic, I bite it back and let him ponder. "I really don't. You…. You remind me of someone. Someone I used to know." "Who?" I want to instantly bite my lip, it looks incredibly personal and I just blurted that out. He sighs and I can see that his eyes are list in memory.

"Macy Anderson." The name means absolutely nothing to me but I can tell it's someone special. "She and I, well we were best friends before…" he gestured to the mark that crosses his forearm. I stay silent, letting him work through his own thoughts. It distracts me from mine. "We told each other everything, we were inseparable. People always joked that we would get married." He laughs, caught up in the old happy memories of childhood. "than, it showed up." Luke glares down at the mark on his arm. "I told her about it. It was stupid but I was 10. I wanted help. I wanted someone to confide in, I barely knew what it was. But Macy did. And she was terrified of me after that. She wouldn't talk to me and it was only a matter of time until she turned me in."

His voice stiffens at that part. "I almost died that night but I got away. And I've been on the run ever since." It's more than I thought it was. But I still don't see what it has to do with me.

"I guess I just didn't trust you because you look startlingly like her."

"It must be the hair." I joke half heartedly. Funnily enough, I don't exactly want to be compared to my, actually I don't know what Luke is to me friend I guess, ex best friend who stabbed him in the back. But I guess that's just me.

To his credit, he does laugh but you can tell it's forced. Still he gets points for trying. "Now you owe me two answers" My eyes widen.

"Uh I have to be somewhere." I make to get up but instantly he's rolled on top of me. Our bodies are pressed together so there's absolutely no chance of me getting up. But I can't say I exactly want to. Not when we're in this position.

"Ok, favourite childhood memory!" Rolling my eyes, he's officially way too excited for this. I am struggling to not be affected by him pressing on me but my brain keeps wandering to the space where his lips are crushing against mine. I shake it off, and glare at him.

"Gonna let me up?" He shakes his head, laughing.

"Are you kidding me?" "Answer the questions!" I bite back the snarky comment and focus. Happy childhood memory.

"Well, one time I became a childhood hooker." He narrows his eyes at me, probably trying to discover if I'm joking or not. "So my brother offered me a dollar to kiss this guy and I was like 6 and that was a million dollars back then. So I kissed the guy and got my dollar. Then I found out that the boy had given Zed 3 dollars to kiss me and I got really mad because I wanted more money."

I'm smiling remembering Zeds expression, not being much older than I am. "So we were arguing until I went up to my mom to complain." I'm laughing now, remembering how this panned out. "I can still hear my dad screaming at Zed, 'You cannot sell your sister' at the top of his lungs." I choke out the last part, laughing. He rolls off me laughing too. Laughter fills the open room and it reflects back to me how long it's been since I laughed like this. Slowly we fade into silence but it's not awkward, it's comfortable.

"Second question. What's your last name?" Every muscle in my body freezes as if tensing for impact. An icy rigidity seeks its way through my bones, I can't move. The silence refuses to be shattered and instead grows thicker and colder between the two of us.

"I'm not playing anymore."

"Not the rules." His voice has lost the calmness, the melodic tone to it. It's become more hushed, Wariner as if he's responding to my emotions before I do. "I don't want to play." There's a lump in my throat that I can't get rid of. It makes my voice less harsh.

"Too bad. I told you. Spill." I shake my head, unwilling to bend. There's way too much colliding together in my brain. Fear, what will they do to me if they find out?, and Anger, why the hell did I have to be their daughter?, battle it out in my head. Sending my heart racing and my body shaking. "What is so bad that you can't tell us?"

Why should I trust them? They've shown their hatred of other savant many times. My father is literally hunting us. Guilty by association right? But he told me. He told me about what almost got him killed. Will I become the enemy if I say anything?

"My name is Aria Lauren Benedict. My parents are Saul and Karla Benedict, key players in the Net. My brother Victor Benedict is in the FBI. He was there last night. He's the one who tried to shoot me… and you."

There's a stunned silence after I speak and the only noise is my fingers tapping on the couch. "Wow. And I thought my family was messed up." I glare at him, partly out of confusion the rest slight anger. After all he called my family messed up. Only I get to do that. "Seriously?"

"No. I made it all up. I'm actually from the circus." I deadpan and he laughs. "And that's what you were scared to say?" I nod slowly staring down at my chipped white nail polish. Sky had insisted on doing them a couple nights ago.

They are already chipped and wrecked. Makes me feel bad. She worked so hard to make these nails look good and they are already ruined. "Aria." I raise my head slowly and stare at him. In his eyes you can see every emotion throughout the shifting patterns of green.

"You've already proved yourself as one of us. It doesn't matter where you live or who you are. It only matters what you do now." His words are like drinking a massive cup of hot chocolate after a long day of skiing. "Thanks." A brief surge of daring slides through me and I reach out and slide my hand into his. His is much larger than mine but it feels good. It feels right. Slowly it closes over mine, "No problem." He says softly.

….

"Get out. Shoo. Leave us alone Connor." I push them all out the door of the makeshift hospital room that Jon set up. Ignoring their very loud protests, I click the lock behind them.

"Sorry about that." I turn back to the taller girl who is sitting on a couch, her dark eyes gleaming with curiosity. I feel a slight surge of jealously slide through me. Her hair is a long dark chocolate brown which goes well with her completion which is about the same shade as mine. Her dark eyes suit her lovely face unlike mine.

"No problem." She says softly, pulling her coat around her tighter. "So Leah, you're going to catch a flight to New York tonight right?" She nods and I push the documents Jon forged towards her. It's a fake passport and driver's license plus about 3000 dollars cash. I honestly don't know where they get this money from but at this point I'm seriously grateful.

Leah's really shy but she trusts me as I was with her in the house. I don't really blame her, the boys are scary. "Thanks." She murmurs softly. She turns away and I take that as my cue to leave. My hand just reaches the cold metal if the doorknob when she speaks

"You guys are going out tonight right?" I laugh under my breath so Connor doesn't hear. He's way too excited. "Yeah. I guess, why?" Connor got it into his head that we need to celebrate so he's decided it's a good idea to bring us all to a club. Including the 15 year old girl.

"What are you going to wear?" It's such a normal question for our situation that it throws me for a minute. I wonder what it feels like to be a normal teen who's only concern is dressing herself. Boring I guess. "I don't know." I pause. I've never been a big fashionista. After all I always avoided Crystal and my mother's taste is atrocious. I mostly just picked up simple clothes. "Jean's and a shirt?"

"To a club?" Leah's voice is full of disgust and inwardly I flinch. I've heard that tone far too often. However my voice comes out light and teasing,

"Well what you suggest miss teen vogue?" Leah turns her eyes away from my teasing shyly, "I could help you get ready?" She suggests quietly. Wow. I feel like I haven't hung out with a girl in forever as I barely am at my own house anymore. But looking at the hopeful look on her face, I can't say no. "Let's do it."

….

"NO you can't see yet." A laughing Leah spins the mirror out of my reach. It's the most open I've ever seen her and it makes it all kind of worth it.

Well not really. I've been sitting in this chair for an hour and I'm pretty sure what I'm wearing does not qualify as clothes. "So any crushes?" She wiggles her eyebrows while brandishing a mascara wand. Combined with the question she asked me, it all makes just about the scariest girl I've ever seen.

"What? No?"

"Liar." She teases. "You're totally into Luke." If I had a drink, I'd spit it out all dramatically. But I don't so I'll have to settle for a big eye roll.

"Nah. We're just friends."

"Right" She drawls. "That's a bigger load of bullshit than me telling you I've never had weed. Ok, you're finished." Surprisingly, my face doesn't feel heavy at all. I take a deep breath and turn to face the mirror. And realize it must be a painting because there's no way I look like that.

This girl's face isn't out of balance with her eyes at all. Her eyes glow a rich shade of brown which easily brings out her high cheekbones and full lips. Her hair falls is faint curls down her back which gives the impression that I've just been standing on a windy beach.

She's wearing clothes, clothes I wouldn't dare to wear. Skintight black jeans and a deep red, long sleeved crop top. Skyscraper black heels complete the look. This girl is beyond pretty. There's a spirit in her eyes that can't possibly belong to me.

"Do you like it?" I nod slowly, taking in the creature in front of me.

"Yay!" I take in my reflection one last time. I look dangerous. I look terrifying. I look like a girl who can take on the world and win. And that's exactly what I plan to do.