.o Haunting Memories o.

Alyson POV

As Evelyn, Clara, and I wove our way through the crowd, I couldn't help the smile that slid across my face. Everything was finally clicking into place. Soon Cameron would know exactly how much Zach lied to her, the guys'- particularly Grant's- anger would resurface, and our first steps to revenge would be complete. But, there was another reason for my smile. I saw Zach.

Sure, I was frustrated and angry at my stubborn, traitorous brother, but that didn't change the fact that this was the first time that I'd actually spoken to him in months.

I had missed him, and part of me was excited to see him again.

Then those happy feelings burned away when I remembered why I hadn't spoken to him in so long.

He betrayed us. He abandoned us. He took everything I- we had ever worked for and threw it all away for a girl. Did he claim he had a reason? I'm sure he did. But there was no explanation that would even start to cover what he did to me. To us.

Then there were Grant and Jonas. Zach's friends- my friends. They held less responsibility than my brother; it was nice to see them again. But they had a part to play in our abandonment nonetheless. They needed to pay as well. I was still working out how to do that.

Zach's consequence, however, I had planned out to the finest detail. I had even planned for the girl to know nothing about us until now. I knew Zach wouldn't have told her. about us. After all the secrets he'd kept from us, the things he did with us, and just plain having a connection to us, I knew there was no way he would tell her his secret. Especially if he thought I was dead.

Anger churned in my gut as I thought about why he had assumed that- the way he didn't even look for us after everything was over. Sure, I supposed he thought he had searched everywhere, but I knew he didn't. If he had, he would have found me. I wasn't hiding from anyone but the 'good guys' after the Circle's downfall.

But of course, by then my brother had become one of them.

"Black Widow, where we going?" I heard Clara's soft voice in my ear. I shook my head, coming out of my brooding thoughts to direct my friends.

"Meet me in the alley behind the ice cream shop," I whispered.

"Why there?" Eva's sharp voice asked. She didn't like just letting them go without a scratch, but it needed to be done for my plan to work. We couldn't just attack them when they didn't even know why. Plus, mind games were always a more fun way of torture in my opinion.

"Because that's where I said, Viper," I hissed into my comms. I could practically see her eyes rolling, so I added, "plus, I want a sundae."

For the ten minutes we had been sitting in our booth, near the back of the ice cream shop, Eva never stopped glaring at me, Clara never stopped humming quietly, and I simply scooped chocolate and vanilla ice cream and whipped topping into my mouth.

Finally, when I had tossed the cherry up and caught it in my mouth, I looked up at Evelyn. "Are you just going to glare at me all night?"

"Are we just going to sit and do nothing all night?" She ground back.

I sighed, "That depends on your definition of 'nothing.'"

The blonde across from me snorted, "How could you just let them leave? This whole thing was about getting our revenge, and now you're eating ice cream!"

I shook my head, but Clara beat me to the answer.

"What's the point if they don't know why?" She whispered. "They don't know us, Eva. Zach lied to them," then her eyes got misty as she said her next sentence, "J-just like he lied to us."

I wrapped my arm around her and rubbed her back to keep her from crying. Evelyn just rolled her eyes, but I knew she saw why we didn't attack. She would have kept on growling at us if she hadn't.

After I paid for my sundae, (yes I actually paid... with money I stole) we made our way to the house we were staying in. (And yes, before you ask, we broke into it.)

I took off my party clothes and went to the bathroom to pull my hair into a loose ponytail. Looking in the mirror, I was reminded yet again of my resemblance to my mother. Same auburn hair, same piercing green eyes, same thin mouth. Growing up, I had been told I looked just like Catherine. As far as I knew, I didn't resemble my father hardly at all. Not that I had anything to compare myself to; or that I even cared. My father abandoned us when Zach and I were little and, as far as I knew, was dead. No one survived leaving the Circle.

No one but us.

Run. Run and don't stop. They're following. You can't outrun them. You're going to get caught. If you're caught, you die.

I shook my head to clear the memories that still haunted me. I couldn't start to dwell on the past now. My head needed to be clear to do what needed to be done. Dwelling on the pain Zach had caused wouldn't help me in my mission. It would only make me act rashly to remember exactly why I hated my own brother.

But you don't hate him. The little voice in my head whispered.

I shook my head. "Yes, I do," I growled to my reflection, gripping the sides of the sink. As I looked up, I saw my mother looking back at me.

I screamed.

It took me one second to realize that I was only looking at myself. I backed up until my back hit the cold bathroom wall. I stood there staring at myself, tears brimming my eyes. It had been that way since I found out what happened to Catherine. I couldn't look in a mirror without seeing her. Sometimes it caught me off guard though. I closed my eyes and rested my head against the wall as I heard my cousin's soft footsteps outside the door. She didn't knock. She knew I would know she was there.

"I'm okay, Clara," I choked out. There was no response, but I heard the soft clicks of the lock being picked. A second later, I felt two small arms wrap around my shoulders.

"No, you're not," my little cousin whispered as she hugged me. "But it's okay. You can't always be the strong one, you know."

I leaned into her, still trying not to cry, and I almost succeeded, until she started singing.

"Above the plains up on the hill, there stood a castle bold. A gleaming palace made of white, a pillar to behold-"

I sighed, and as my cousin rubbed my back, humming our childhood lullaby, I released the sobs that I'd been holding back for months. "She's gone. She's- He- He didn't even-" I choked.

My mother was dead. She was never coming back. I wasn't there to save her, but Zach was. Zach was, and he let her die.

I knew Zach never liked what our mother stood for. Heck, I knew he didn't even like her. But she was his mother. I may not have been thrilled about what Catherine wanted, but to let her die? He could have saved her. Not just from the fire, but from herself if he would have tried like I did. We could have brought her back to us. But instead, he chose the girl. He chose her over me. Over mom. Overprotecting his cousin. Overhelping Eva. Over being loyal anyone who ever trusted him.

And now, he was going to pay.

I heard someone inhale sharply, and opened my eyes to see Eva's blonde hair whipping around the corner, heading towards the living room. Great. That's just what I needed. I sighed and stood up. Clara helped me clean my face, and we made our way to the other room.

Evelyn was sharpening her knives on the couch. She glanced up when we entered, her face completely blank. If she was affected at all by what she saw, I couldn't tell. She had perfected her emotionless mask by the time we were twelve; even I couldn't read her emotions when she didn't want me to.

After two minutes of silence, I finally sighed. "Just ask. I don't want you to combust or something."

Evelyn continued sharpening her knives, the ring of metal hitting metal the only sound in the room. Eventually, she looked up. "Why?"

The question seemed simple or even vague to anyone that didn't know exactly what she was asking, but I did. I just didn't want to answer.

"She realized her mother's never coming back," Clara blurted when I didn't answer right away. I inwardly groaned. Why did she pick that wording?

Eva's expression never changed, her knives never stopped their rhythmic song, but she couldn't keep the bitterness out of her voice. "You're mother's never coming back," she echoed. She finally smiled bitterly and sheathed her knives. "Yeah, well, I know the feeling. But at least you knew her, at least you knew that she could have come back. At least you know that she even wanted to come back!" she hissed.

"Eva-" I tried, but she was already striding off. I sighed. Clara looked ready to run after her, but I shook my head. "She just needs time," I told her. "You know how she is."

Clara nodded, tears welling in her eyes. "I- I forgot for a second."

"I know, it's alright."

Evelyn POV

I went straight to the back room and slammed the door. Why Alyson put my things into this room over the rest, I'll never comprehend. There was a twin sized, princess decorated bed against the left wall, a pink dresser against the other wall, purple curtains, and more pink and purple toys and decorations than I cared to even count. The room obviously belonged to an annoyingly young girl.

There were pictures of a little girl and her parents all over the walls. Them at the park. A fourth birthday party. The girl blowing out a number six candle. Fun days at the carnival. The room practically screamed 'Happy family!'

Why would anyone in their right mind put me in here?

I didn't need any reminders my mother robbed me of my childhood. I didn't need what could have been mine shoved in my face. I didn't need to be reminded that I had been abandoned by my parents. That Catherine and the Circle had been my only family. That even that had been ripped away from me.

It took all my self-control not to slice everything in that room to bits. It was strange that I was still so bitter, considering I hardly remember my mother. But I know enough about good parents to know they don't just leave kids at the park and never return. I don't remember where I lived, or what I did before Catherine found me and took me in. Catherine adopted me and showed me what I could do, how I could change things. That I actually had a place in the world. Thinking about it, I wasn't bitter that I was denied this pink glee. I was bitter I had been left behind. Discarded. Unwanted. Left on a swing set in the middle of nowhere.

Growing up in our sector of the Circle, the one thing you learned before anything is that you never abandon each other. But I had been left. By my mother first.

Then by Zach.

He had promised not to leave. He had promised to help Clara. He had sworn he would always be there for me- for us. Yet all those promises seemed to vaporize when that girl appeared.

Then I was locked up.

Snapping out of those thoughts before they went too far, I slipped out of my 'nice clothes' and put on a black t-shirt and comfortable jeans. I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair, laying on the princess bed. I knew I shouldn't be mad at Alyson; she had done everything for us. She broke us out, she made sure we hadn't been found, she stuck with us even after her brother left. I just couldn't help the bitterness I had towards her at times.

She'd always had her mother. She was raised, trained, and brought up by her mother. She'd had her brother. She'd had friends before Catherine brought me home that stormy night. Sure, I knew it hurt losing all of that. But at least she had something to lose! She didn't realize what being able to cry on a bathroom floor, being comforted by more family meant! Well, she needed to learn how to suck it up, like I was forced to at the age of nine.

I shook my head. I was jealous of my friend's reason for hurting, of her pain. There was something wrong with me. But I already knew that. I wasn't sent to Youngblood for no reason, now was I?

I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples with my fingers. I might have dozed off because I sat up with a start when I heard a small bang through the door.

Sighing, I sat up. Glancing at the Hello Kitty clock on the wall, I realized I'd been lying in here for almost five hours. It was almost seven am. I swung my legs over the bed and walked into the main room, prepared myself to face whatever was there.

Clara was curled up on the couch, asleep. Alyson was on a chair, a laptop open on her lap. She glanced up when I entered, her eyes following me as I sat down in the middle of the floor. When I look up at her, her eyes dropped back to the screen. Great. I was not going to be the one to start talking, so I grabbed a knife and sent it flying past her ear.

It took about two seconds for Ally to glance up again. She reached up and pulled the knife out of the chair. "You know, we're not supposed to leave evidence we were here."

"Yeah, well, I'm sure they can deal with a hole in their chair."

Alyson rolled her eyes and put the computer on the desk next to her. She looked hesitant to say something.

I sighed. "Look, about last night-"

"You know Clara didn't mean-"

"I know!" I snapped, glaring at her. I groaned and rubbed my eyes. "Just forget it. I know what she meant. Just don't expect me to go all mushy and supportive too; because you need to suck it up."

Ally rolled her eyes and gave a tiny smirk. "Wouldn't dream of it." Then she smirked bigger and turned the computer towards me. "Come take a look. I have our next move planned."

I took one look at the screen and grinned. Oh, this was going to be fun.

Ally and I were knocked out of our planning about an hour later by a small scream. We whipped around to see Clara gasping, still half asleep. I rolled my eyes. She needed to learn to deal with her nightmares. I had.

Alyson stood up and walked over to dear, little Clarissa. "It's alright," I heard her whisper. I hated when people said that. No. It's not alright, and it will probably never be alright. Yet people throw that phrase around just for a comfort. It bugged me to an extreme.

Then there was that small voice. Your just jealous that she has someone to do that for her.

I bit back a growl. I didn't hear voices, but sometimes it seemed my own brain went against me. I was not jealous of Clara. I was not jealous that my best friends were related by blood. I was not jealous that I would always be the one that was brought home, not one that was born into this. I was not jealous of anything.

Maybe if I kept telling myself that, I would believe it eventually.

Sighing, I turned and watched as Ally asked Clara what was wrong.

"H-He wanted to u-use me again, t-to help another one of h-his projects," she stuttered, still gasping. "I w-wasn't fast enough."

I watched in wonder at how Alyson Goode, one of the most dangerous people I knew, soothed her cousin. Stroking her hair, whispering comforts like, "It's alright. He's gone. He can't hurt you anymore."

'He's gone,' she said. It was ridiculous how even assassins avoided the word 'dead' sometimes. But then again, we weren't the ones to kill Clara's father. That was one of the only positive things that came for us from the Circle's fall. From Zach's betrayal.

Apparently, Clara was still freaked out. She had started ignoring Ally and was singing, with that freaky, childish, wonder look in her eyes.

"In my field of paper flowers and candy clouds of lullabies-"

I quickly tuned Clara out, knowing that she would sing until she fell back asleep. Hopefully, when she woke up, she would be in reality, not her head. I didn't think I could take a 'dreaming' Clara now.

Alyson gave up trying to talk to her after two minutes and came back to where I was sitting. "I wish we could help her," she sighed.

"It's not our fault she hid the truth until it was too late," I said. It wasn't. We were ten when we found out what was happening to Clara. Since then, we had hidden, protected and helped her stay away from her psychotic father. Her mother died when she was five, so we were her only chance.

It still amazed me how Clara is part of the greatest- and youngest- assassin team in the world, and she refuses to attack anyone herself. She'll help us finish a target, but she has never physically hurt anyone. All because of what she went through.

Don't be mistaken though. Clara could hold her own in a fight. She wouldn't hurt the other person physically, but years of running, hiding, training, and escaping had made her nearly impossible to catch. She could outrun anyone, climb practically anything, and if you ever did grab her, she could release almost any hold. If only she was mentally stable, I would have even said she could rival me in a fight. But she wasn't.

Alyson stared at her younger cousin for a minute, then turned back to our plans for the next couple of days. Shaking off her concern for Clara, she asked me, "When we play, who should be 'it'?"

I grinned and began playing with my knife. "Let Zachy be 'it' this time. I'd love to see him find us now."

She nodded and went back to her plans. In two days we would contact Zach again. I would see Grant again. I felt excitement shiver down my back as I thought of what fun we were going to have.

Zach knew we were here. He knew what we wanted. Now it was time to let the games begin.