It takes the rest of the team twelve long minutes to get to us. We walk over to a nearby underground parking lot for privacy, and the whole way Janie rants about wasted opportunities and the importance of recovering our captured team members instead of taking on a potentially unstoppable enemy. Her cheeks are glowing pink by the time Willow and the others jog up to us in the stairwell, and the flash in her amber eyes dares anyone to argue with her.

Well, I dare.

"Janie, come on," I say, my voice loud and hollow in the concrete and glass stairwell. "It looks like Adam is safe, or he wouldn't be walking around out there with Alec. I'm betting the others are okay, too. We'll have plenty more run-ins with Gardiner, but how often are we going to get the chance stop the mastermind behind the human Blanks?"

"What makes you so sure we even can?" she retorts.

"Hermes wouldn't have brought us here if it wasn't a possibility." As much as I don't know the guy, as much as I hate his cloaks of ambiguity and deflection, I believe this wholeheartedly now that I remember our months of stilted dialogue.

"How did they find us?" Willow asks.

"I told them to come," Jones answers in a barely discernible whisper.

We all turn to him in silent shock as he sits on the top stair above us, his arms wrapped tightly around his parka-clad torso. Jones has never been the bravest kid among us, but this level of terror, the quaking knees and pale face and shifty eyes, isn't reminiscent of his usual freak-outs. He normally covers up his fear with false bravado and sarcasm, but he's not even pretending to be okay.

Marcus acts first. In two seconds flat, he's made it up to where Jones is sitting and has picked him up by the front of his jacket, slamming his back into the wall in a move that almost shakes the stairwell. The other boy, only a few inches smaller, groans with pain, then his eyes widen as he finds himself staring at Marcus's lethal expression.

"I'm sorry!" he squeaks. "You have to understand—I was trying to do the right thing!"

Marcus rocks him against the wall. "What did you do?"

"Stop!" I yell, unable to watch anymore. "Please let him go, Marcus."

I know he's not capable of thinking when he gets in these destructive moods. He's a fuse that's seconds away from being lit by Jones' careless words, and I can't let him make the mistake of blowing up all over the scared kid. Especially knowing how much he'll regret it later.

I reach them and pull at his shoulder insistently. He drops Jones, but he's not ready to let go of his darkness. It's no surprise to me when he spins toward me like I'm a new opponent and his obsidian eyes threaten to cut me down to the bone. But there's more on his face, emotions I couldn't see before because I was missing an understanding of his nuanced expressions. Emotions I couldn't see because I didn't know our history.

Need, fear, betrayal, longing—it's all right there in front of me, slivers of light breaking through cracks in his hard countenance, whether he wants them to or not. This is what's in his heart, and the knowledge nearly brings me to my knees.

I meant everything to him. I know that now better than I ever did, even then. My steady calm soothed the unfettered rage curled inside him like a waiting serpent, and my compassion convinced him of his own humanity. He paid me back by giving himself to me wholeheartedly, without question. He trusted me in a way I didn't dare trust even Sam, and what did I do in return? I took his love and trust and fashioned them into a spear that I delivered into his heart.

"What happened, Jones?" Willow says in a soft and understanding way.

Willow's question breaks some of the tension, and I breathe easier when Marcus scowls less murderously at Jones. Jones focuses on her with pleading eyes like she's his lifeline. "I texted Adam. I—I know we talked about how Gardiner most likely confiscated it, so I knew they'd be listening." He sticks his hands in his armpits to contain his tremors. "There's something seriously wrong here. Every cell in my body is telling me we shouldn't be here."

"You should have talked to us about this first," she reprimands him. "We make decisions together, remember?"

"I told Pablo," Jones mumbles.

Pablo snorts. "If that's what you want to call it. He's been acting like a certified nutjob since we got here. Saying stuff under his breath, almost pissing his pants anytime someone gets close to him. How was I supposed to know he'd stab us in the back?"

"I didn't stab anyone in the back! I'm trying to save us!"

Janie sweeps her hair up into a ponytail and pulls her black leather gloves back on. "This is a sign we shouldn't be trying to take on a freaking Ancient. Let's find Adam and Alec instead. At least we know what we're dealing with. At least they're human."

"Alec killed Sam," I remind her. "You know we can't trust him."

"Well, the enemy you know and all that." Her eyes shift over to Marcus. "Marcus?"

I look over at him to find him already watching me, this time with a lot less aggression and something that looks like a question. His puzzlement hardens to resoluteness. "Janie's got a point," he murmurs. "It's too dangerous."

"When is it ever safe?" I say, frustrated. "We had a plan!"

"Plans change."

"Come on, guys." I take in the team around me. "This is the closest we've ever been to finding answers. We can't turn back now."

"Answers?" Willow asks. "I thought the point was to save the Blanks."

"Of course it is," I answer quickly, thinking of Carson and the hundreds of humans we found in that cave. Saving lives trumps anything else we might be trying to do, but there's more to it than that for me. I can't shake the feeling that the answer I've been searching for, my connection to the crystal cave and the last of my missing memories, are tied to whatever is going to happen here in this city. That Ancient holds the key to a lot more than any of us know.

"Big mistake," Jones is muttering to himself. "Big mistake, big mistake . . ."

Janie points jabs an index finger at him. "That is so not winning you any points, April."

"What do the odds say?" Willow asks Pablo.

"There's a chance we'll do what we came for and make it out alive." He scrubs a hand through his longish dark-brown hair. "It feels close to 50-50. It could go in either direction, but I say we stay here and kick some alien ass. No more running, am I right?"

"Forget it," Marcus counters. "The only reason we're here right now is because we didn't have anything else to go on. But now we do. If Adam is here, it means he's working with Gardiner. And he'd never do that unless he had a good reason."

"They could be blackmailing him," Willow points out.

Janie shakes her head. "It didn't look like that from where I was standing. He and Alec seemed pretty cozy."

"So he betrayed us," Pablo scoffs. "Isn't that what your buddy Alec did, too?"

"Adam is nothing like Alec," Janie says curtly. "No offense, Willow."

"Marcus," I say, ignoring everyone else. He's the only one who calls the shots. In the past, it meant he and I would discuss plans, and then he'd carry them out. But I've lost a lot of clout with this group, and it all falls on him. "We could end this today. Right here. We might finally win. Isn't that what we've always wanted?"

His gaze holds mine, and for a moment it's like we're both slipping back through the months, to a time when we moved on the same wavelength and conveyed more with one glance than most people could with an entire conversation. It's because of this that I finally understand what's going on. The sudden change of heart.

He's afraid for me.

Dammit. This is not the time I want Marcus to start caring about my life.

My phone vibrates in my pocket before he answers. I slip it out and shiver from a sudden chill as I read Hermes' message. Wait for the signal at the Dallas Arts District. It won't be long now. Do not deviate from the mission. At Marcus's quizzical look, I show it to him, and his jaw hardens. The others crowd around us, absorbing the words and their implications.

"It's like he's watching us," Pablo says with a careless laugh.

Marcus makes an agitated sound. "This doesn't change anything. You know what? It's stupid that we're even arguing about whether or not we should follow his shady ass."

Janie is nodding vehemently behind him. Willow looks doubtful, but she's not fighting them on this, and we all know where Jones stands on the issue. As for Pablo—he's the last person I'd trust with a decision. It's always about him. His odds. What he gets out of any situation and encounter.

I'm on my own here.

"Okay."

Marcus blinks. "So, we're good?"

"Yes. We'll split up. You guys find Adam—"

"Dammit, Rose!"

"—and I'll look for the Ancient. Problem solved."

There's no way I'm going to stand there debating this and wasting more precious time, so I shove the stairwell door open and head for the main entrance to the parking deck. I'm punching directions into my phone's navigation system when I hear rapid footsteps heading after me.

"That's it? You're just going to take off?"

Marcus. I turn to him, phone in hand and thumb still poised over the screen. He looks like he's waging an internal war, and my heart picks up as I wonder which side to root for. "Why does everything have to be so hard with you?" he finally asks, his voice rough.

I didn't expect that. Cars go past us in and out of the parking deck, but we're secluded from the bustle on the pedestrian walkway. The others linger about twenty feet behind us to give us some space. I stick my phone back in my back pocket and let out a visible puff of air, my own agitation building. "I'm trying to give everyone what they want."

"No, you're running away again. You're pushing us away and taking on everything by yourself because you think it's you against the world." He shifts his weight, his throat moving. "If you have your memories back, then you know I can't keep doing this. It's too damned hard. Not knowing what's going on with you. Something has to give."

Our anguish blends together until I don't know where his hurt begins and mine ends. "I'm not pushing you away."

He laughs.

"I'm not," I argue. "It's different this time."

"How is walking away now different from all those times before?"

"Because now I'm asking you to come with me."

Marcus's gaze moves over my face like he's searching for hidden answers. He hesitates, almost like he's afraid to know the truth. "I don't understand you."

That's always been the problem, hasn't it? I never gave him a chance to understand. I'm not sure this is the best time to go into a multi-faceted and layered subject such as my feelings and his, but I have to give him something.

"You know the only good thing about losing my memories? It's given me perspective. I know the secrets and the sneaking around made it hard for you, for all of you, to deal with me. I was scared and confused, and the more I felt that, the more I pulled away from the people who care about me." I move closer to him and rest my hand on his forearm. "I was dealing with it the only way I know how, and I realize now I was unfair to you. No, I was cruel to you.

"But I'm not like that anymore. Nature be damned. I'm not going to face this alone if I don't have to, but I can't walk away from it either. There's something going on. I'm missing memories thanks to the Ancients, and they have everything to do with this mission."

"Why don't you ask Hermes to tell you what you're not remembering?"

"Don't you think I've tried that?" I exhale and stamp down my frustration. He's not the cause of it. The knowledge that my mind isn't safe from the Ancients isn't helping with my stress level. "He won't tell me. I think . . . I think I need to find the answers myself."

He takes off his dark cap and scrubs a hand through his dark hair. Over his shoulder, Janie lifts her hands in a what's going on? gesture. I lift a hand to let them know to hang tight.

"I don't like this," Marcus says.

My shoulders deflate. "Me neither."

"You could get hurt. Or you could blank again. What if you never come back?"

"I know."

He shoves the cap back on. "You think I want you anywhere near them?"

I exhale a laugh. "I don't want me anywhere near those things."

"But you have to go anyway, don't you? You have to be a hero."

There's no bitterness in his voice when he says this. In fact, it sounds like he's resigned to the fact that I'm always going to leap headfirst into any situation if it means I might spare someone else pain and tragedy.

"I have to do some good in this world," I whisper, my throat tight. To make up for the bad I've done. I don't add that part, but he gets it. He always got me.

His eyes are heavy on mine. I'd give anything to know what's in his head. How he feels about us. If there's even an us to talk about. I can't help holding on to the smallest sliver of hope when he says softly, "I know all about beating yourself up over the past. Take it from me, Rose. The only thing that matters is what happens now."

Without another word, he turns back to the others and signals them to join us. "Change of plans," he tells them.

"Oh, no," Janie moans. "I know that look. Team Mapril is back on track. Which means these two will go back to acting like they share a hivemind."

Marcus responds in a curt tone, but I barely hear him. I'm stuck on what she said about a hivemind. The word scratches at some partition in my brain. I close my eyes and dig deeper, and come away with one morsel of remembrance.

Blanks share a mind. The mind of the Ancient in control. Everything they do, everywhere they go, he is watching.

"Are you okay?" Marcus asks.

He ducks his head to scrutinize me closer. My companions wear expressions ranging from his concern to Pablo's amusement to—in Jones' case—wild terror.

"Yeah." I swallow hard. "I'm okay. Are we doing this or what?"

"I guess we have no other choice," Willow says quietly.

"No. You do have a choice. Look, I'm going to finish this mission. But you guys don't have to put yourselves in danger just because I think this is important. If you need to leave, I understand. I—I just hope we'll be able to see each other again someday."

The rest of the words are stuck in my throat. Sure, the last eight months have been hell on steroids, but for the first time in forever, I've been surrounded by people I care about, people who have been with me every step of the way—until I pushed them away. It doesn't matter that we don't always see eye-to-eye or that sometimes it feels like we're all too broken and damaged to be of any good to one another, but we've been through it all together.

I'm not sure how I'm going to get along without them.

"God, you're such a diva sometimes," Janie says with a merry roll of her eyes. "What makes you think we're just going to ditch you?"

Leave it to Janie to insult me in such an affectionate tone. "But—"

"I don't feel good about this," Jones whimpers.

"Zip it," Janie says, glaring at him. She turns back to me. "We didn't spend eight months heading up shit's creek without a paddle between us just to break up the team now. Besides, I don't know how you will survive without my clothes and accessories expertise."

I crack a smile as I think about that time many months ago when Janie decided to doll Willow and me up and take us out on the town. Willow's fake lashes fell into her spaghetti and meatballs halfway through lunch, and I sprained my ankle trying to step over a puddle in my new stylish but hellish pumps. We had to compel our way into the ambulance entrance of the ER. And of course, Princess Janie pranced around looking breathtaking and making sure she got all of the attention.

"We have your back as always," Willow says, and I can tell by the way she says it that she knows I have my memories back.

"Yeah. I know." Crazy thing is, I really do know she has my back. Even when she's compelling me to follow around creepy shadows in the dark or sealing away my memories against my will. We were close at the facility, and after we got out, after a rocky start because of Sam and Alec, we fell back into that comfortable, familiar companionship.

She laid the foundation for the trust I've invested in Marcus, helping me navigate the inner workings of his tumultuous brain and understanding that, at his core, he's still the vulnerable and caring boy who was once her best friend. She was the bridge between Janie and me, the person who asked Adam to watch over me, the reason I didn't lose faith in myself when Pablo and others like him questioned my leadership and then my sanity.

She's the only one who knows about Carson. The whole truth. That, more than anything, tells me who she is. Someone who struggles with sharing herself, just like me, but what we don't have in common is that she thinks it's easier, better, to make choices for people and to pull strings without their knowledge, instead of risking facing their antagonism.

I've never questioned her loyalty, and I certainly don't know. Not when I know she could have left me with memories of our bond, ensuring that I'd treat her favorably, but she didn't absolve herself of blame. She let me believe the worst of her because she felt she deserved my distrust and acrimony. The guilt in her hazel eyes even now tells me still feels she deserves it. I hope we live long enough to have a conversation about personal space.

"Can we leave him behind?" Pablo says, looking at Jones with disgust. "He's seriously killing the vibe."

Marcus studies him and reaches into his pocket. "Here, Jones. Go wait for us in the car. You're just going to slow us down."

"T-thank you," Jones says as he snatches the keys and races like a madman out of the parking deck.

"If I thought we could take a break from not getting killed, I'd suggest that kid go in for therapy," Janie muses as we start moving.

"I think we could all benefit from a few good rounds of counseling," Willow adds.

"Except maybe Pablo. He's the reason people go to therapy in the first place."

Pablo sneers. "The only thing you need is a session of loving with Doctor Pablo, sweetheart. You know I'm right or you wouldn't be so obsessed with me."

"Ugh! Dream on."

Janie increases her pace so she doesn't end up walking anywhere near him. I don't take part in the banter, but it calms me as it always does. Normalcy is good when we're on our way to face what is potentially the worst thing we've ever come across.

"You're sure about this?" Marcus asks next to me, casting me a quick glance

It's like he's reading my mind. Normally I like seeing human emotions on Marcus, and I especially love eliciting good ones, but his nervousness now reminds me of what's at stake. But I don't change my mind. I can't afford to. What I've managed to remember only reinforces my determination. My unyielding fear that something is very wrong here.

I take a deep breath. "Let's go hunt an alien."



(Author's note: So yeah, it's been a while. It's been a tough ride the past few months. A lot of personal things have been happening that have made me feel so removed from everything except my personal challenges. But writing is in my blood and sometimes I feel empty inside because I'm not putting to paper the world I've created in my head. So no matter what it takes, I promise to keep finding time to write and see this project to the end. Thank you for being here. Until next time!)