Page 5

Chapter Five

Boston

When Brennan told me Mum and Dad were fostering one of his “kids,” I never expected it to be her, and I wonder what my damn brother is playing at. Then he has the nerve to ask me to watch over her while he is away. This has to be a test. Our whole lives, all they have done is test us to make sure we’re worthy.

I hesitated that night in the old shed. Those huge aqua eyes—even in the dark—reminded me of our baby, Z. I wanted to jump from the roof and demand she tell me why she left us. Why she died. I loved her. We all did—that was the point.

We were never held against our will.

They call us G.O.D.S. Gifted, obedient, and deadly students.

Our team was given the name Hades.

Every child was groomed from birth and attended a specialised primary school run by an organisation called Olympia. We were trained to be used as weapons, then released into the real world during high school to gain social skills, or so the leaders claimed. Each team of six—five boys and one girl—was sent to a different school around the state.

After losing her, our team became five untethered lethal weapons, and the light in our world left our souls. That small crack in our hearts they trained us to keep open for our Sixth was closed over. She would have made us weak; we were... are... better off without her. I know the others can see it. The day she was taken away, we all swore on each other’s lives we would never speak her name again.

Laughn is already blinded by Jolie. I even think Marlow is hurt by her presence. Case and Davis are harder to read; honestly, it’s a damn talent to get anything out of Case since that day. I know they will avoid her for now unless she approaches them.

“Take a seat, guys. I just want to check in and then you can go party, or whatever you have planned for tonight.”

We all take our seats. Our house has an underground office where Brennan holds all team meetings that keep us updated or deliver jobs we have been assigned. Brennan is our mentor, our handler. He’s in charge of getting our jobs and keeping the bigwigs happy. Asshole gets the easy work. He was also the only person in the whole organisation willing to work with us after we became five.

Case carelessly flops down in a seat, the smell of the cigarette he had been smoking filling the air. Everyone else is acting cautious; Brennan rarely seems this serious.

“I want you all to not screw around with Jolie.” He cuts straight to the point. My brother never messes around—he says what he means and means what he says.

“You can’t tell us who we can and can’t fuck,” Laughn barks, standing from his chair.

“I can and I will. Jolie has become an expert at using her body as a weapon. If she sleeps with you, then you best believe it’s for a reason. I have been working with her for almost twelve months now, and I don’t want any of you fucking this up for me.” His tone is serious.

“Aww, Brenny wants her for himself.” Davis laughs.

“Enough!” Brennan booms. “If you fuck this up, Mr Z will be pissed. He calls the shots.”

“Are you going to let us in on why she is here at the house?” I meet his steely gaze and hold it. “We did what was asked and ran her through the test zone.”

I’ve got to give the girl props. She is fast, stealthy, and seems to know how to find her way to safety—all indicators she has some kind of training. It was sloppy taking the other girl with her; only two made it through that test zone or three, if you include the girl she rescued. That one’s useless if you ask me, but she can be utilised as a wife for one of the handlers. She refused to talk when we picked her up, but allowing someone else to save your ass, that’s weakness.

“Jolie should be gone already and in training if she was accepted,” Marlow points out, and he’s right. Anyone who passes the test goes straight to a meeting with Mr Z himself. He replaces the members of teams when he needs to, or even trains up new handlers. We never question his motives, but something about this irregularity has me wanting answers.

“I was wondering how long it would take one of you to ask.” Brennan’s smile falters.

I was right to suspect he has been keeping something from us.

“Mr Z has not spoken with her yet. He just has a few more tests for her,” he continues, tiptoeing around the question.

“Just tell us the fucking truth. Who is she and why is she here at the Myers?” Case snaps.

“She will be your Sixth,” Brennan almost whispers. He knows our stance. Mr Z has tried to replace her before, so we killed the replacement. Or she killed herself. No one will replace her.

“No fucking way.”

“Fuck no.”

“You’re not fucking serious right now.”

“Over my dead body,” I roar.

A chair goes flying across the room. Davis tries to run at Brennan, but my older brother, even if he looks scrawny, will throw you on your ass—which is exactly what happens.

Brennan won’t make eye contact with me; he is still leaving out details.

“None of you get a choice, so suck it up and deal with it. You are trained to become a team of six. We have been looking for your new Sixth for a while now, and Jolie could be the one. You can’t go through the fucking trials without her.”

He has to be kidding himself if he thinks we will let him replace Zircon. We are and always will be a team of five now. I thought we had made that clear.

We need a game plan on how we get rid of her. She is a stray, so how hard can it be? All we need is a little incentive. Money won’t work; she doesn’t seem like the type.

I just need to get her to agree to leave.