Chapter 2

Officially United

My mother's bomb wasn't the way I wanted to start out the week, but it's official. She was granted leave to spend the last fifty years of her span in peace. I only hope she's right about them never finding out she is still alive. They'll never stop hunting her or the rest of us if she's wrong. One day, I'll have to do the same thing.

My eyes fall on something imprinted in the muddy ground just in front of us. I quickly lean over the front seat to yell at our driver.

"Stop the damn car!"

We slide over the mud, our back-ends fishtailing slightly from the abrupt stop, and the car skids to a halt as I leap out the door to run ahead and investigate. Kneeling down, I examine the oddity that tells me we're about to have to change our direction.

"What the hell is the meaning of this?" Mr. Hedin, the lead tracker for the United, barks.

"Sir, there's a pause on these tracks where the tires roll back, and-"

"This is mud, Aria. Damn it. Not everything is going to be laid out in perfection while driving in mud. Get back in the damn vehicle. This is my fucking investigation. You're just observing. Don't you dare stop our process again!"

I lower my head shamefully. This arrogant prick loves humiliating me, and now everyone in our convoy has just witnessed the lashing I didn't deserve.

Stupid, pompous ass.

Four days ago my mother had to bail me out of a fight where a bunch of vicious hybrids wanted to tear me apart. She'd have less mercy on Hedin than she did on them if she saw the way he just humiliated me.

"We'll make camp just ahead. The rain will hold off for another couple of days, so our tracks will be safe. It'll be dark soon, and we're in unaligned territory," Captain Fricks announces.

We all load back up, and I lean my mortified body against the door as I stare out the window.

"That was brutal," Rex murmurs softly while taking his seat beside me.

"Did you see that coming?" I scoff quietly.

"No. I would have probably done something stupid if I had," he sighs out while patting my leg.

"By this time, Mom was already the lead interrogator for the United. Everyone respected her, listened to her, and did exactly what she wanted them to do. No one did their best to destroy her in front of people the way they do me."

He laughs a little and leans back in the seat.

"Mom had also lived a life where she was forced to be made out of steel instead of rose petals. You're far too sensitive. He's your boss. He's supposed to be a dick. Besides, Mom endured far worse than you many times during her early years of the United. People just learned to fear her when they saw what she was capable of."

I roll my eyes, and I stifle a laugh as I think back to all the trembling eyes that would follow one of her scoldings. They do fear her. I wish they fucking feared me. If I knew how to use my gifts, they would.

"We're here," Rex murmurs softly, snapping me out of my drifted trance.

I climb out to follow the camp makers, and then I groan when I see how far off the true trail we are now. That crafty group of mercenaries will get away because of that prideful son of a bitch who is too imperious to take instruction from someone of lesser title than he.

United my ass. Divided by pride.

The wind howls against the hollow log I'm leaned against. It sings whistled songs about nature's warnings as the rain threatens to come down sooner than expected. I'd warn them, but they wouldn't listen.

I glare enviously at my brother as he dances with a girl beside the fire, and then I roll my eyes when he gives me a wink. He knows I hate how easily he fits in, when I'm always the outsider. Jerk. He's everyone's favorite it appears.

"Hey," a guy's voice says, and I jump from the startling surprise of it being so close.

I turn to face the soft, pale eyes staring into mine. My heartbeat quickens and then stumbles as it sees that gasp-worthy smile spreading across his face with an ever so slight set of dimples emerging to accentuate his beauty.

Damn.

"Hey," I murmur awkwardly while turning away.

Holy full blood. Who is this guy, and why haven't I seen him before?

His incredible scent engulfs me. It smells like sex and candy had a baby, and damn that baby smells delicious.

"Care if I join you?" he snickers out when he sees my pathetically girly, bashful reaction.

Oh good grief. I'm acting like I've never seen a pretty face before. I'm not sure if I'm melting or sweating.

"By all means," I mumble out casually, shifting uneasily when his arm touches mine on his way to the ground.

"I'm Jase, and you are?" he muses softly.

I am... huh? Oh crap. What's my name? Fucking pathetic.

"Aria Ba-" I stop short, not willing to have his eyes light up at my last name. "Just Aria."

He laughs again, and then he shakes his head, his soft, dark hair slipping through the fingers of the wind like strands of velvet.

Look away, Aria.Look.The fuck.Away.

I can't look away though. I'm frigging lost in this man's perfectly pale eyes, and that's not good. That's not good at all.

"So, Just Aria , I heard you made a little bit of a scene earlier," he says too casually.

Great. He's a jerk who came over just to poke fun at me. Asshole.

My attraction to him fades instantly, and then I roll my eyes while scooting over farther to avoid all contact from his cold, yet scorching touch. My body tingles as it suffers from what feels to be withdrawal symptoms the moment I do.

"Yeah, well, shit happens," I murmur dismissively, and then I go back to drawing on the pad in my lap.

"I wasn't making fun," he says with a daring grin returning, stealing my heart's beat once again.

"Sure you weren't," I rattle out with oozing sarcasm. "You already knew my name, and yet you asked for it. I'm sure everyone here knows who I am, and they're all loving the chance to see the late commander's daughter getting sliced down to size. Please go away. I've got more interesting things to do than deal with taunting bullies."

"Wow, you're incredibly defensive," he says through a laugh.

I'm sick of his laughter. I'm sick of everyone here. Maybe Dad was right to keep me locked up in the compound with nothing but technology at my fingertips. People and I don't work well together. I prefer machines.

"Laugh all you want to, pretty boy. I'll leave you to laugh at my back instead of in my face though." I huff while standing up, ignoring his fading chuckles.

I start to walk away when I feel cool fingers lacing with mine and tugging me back. The pulsing in my body quickens, and this time my heart stops beating all together, as if it has forgotten how to do such a mundane thing.

Damn he's tall. His towering stature is sexy... intimidating too. My head barely comes to his chest.

"I wasn't laughing at you. It's just… well… I'm sorry, Aria. I promise I'll never laugh again for as long as I live," he says with a salacious grin, and his eyes burn into mine expectantly.

He's too fucking cute to be real. Go away!

"Well, it's your life. Do what you want. If abstaining from ridiculing laughter is what you want, then I hope you succeed. I'm going to go get some sleep," I murmur while trying to draw back once more, finding it impossible to find the will to want to leave.

His grip tightens, and then he pulls me to his body. That sex and candy scent returns, and I'm almost drooling to see if he tastes as good as he smells. My eyes fall to his shoulder that is so toned and perfect beneath his tight tee-shirt, begging to be bitten.

"Something on my shoulder?" he teases when he sees my lost gaze.

"Yeah, a spider," I say with a grin as I use what little bit of my gift I can summon in order to fling one from the ground onto it.

He looks down, and then he brushes off the eight-legged crawler while laughing.

"You already broke your promise," I poke, and he laughs again.

"What can I say? I'm only full blood."

I smirk while backing up a little, and then I tilt my head curiously.

"Why did you come over here if not to laugh at me?"

He smiles and then he slides down to take a seat in front of the log again.

"To meet you. I've heard about your latest encounter where Mrs. Bann… um... I mean, Mrs. Mordel had to show her gifts, and I was wondering how you were. They say it was a nasty scrape."

All the exasperation that can clamber in one breaths is exhaled through my lips at once. Damn it. Everyone knows my mom had to come bail me out again.

"She's a little overprotective. It wasn't as bad as it sounds."

I slump down beside him, and my pad falls loosely in my lap. I turn it over before he can see what I'm sketching.

"So, how bad was it then?"

Okay, so it was really bad and I would have died if Mom and Uncle Brazen hadn't shown up.

"Not as bad as her scolding," I grumble, detouring the conversation.

He laughs harder this time, but it doesn't annoy me as it did earlier. It's actually a little bit of a turn on now, and I really wish it wasn't.

Drat.

"I've indeed heard of your mother's tongue-lashings from other United members. I've only met her a couple of times, so I was never really unfortunate enough to be on the receiving end."

I smile lightly, and then I look down to my hands.

"It wasn't so bad. She just worries. Besides, I didn't deserve it, and I think she knew it. That's why she backed off."

His eyes slant curiously as he props back and tilts his body to face me more directly.

"I thought you were the tracker on that case," he says with a slight bit of an accusatory tone.

"I was, and I did my job correctly. I told the captain it was a trap, but he refused to listen to me. He said Mr. Hedin had already pointed out the trail."

He narrows his eyes.

"If you were tracking, Hedin shouldn't have interfered, given the fact he wasn't physically there to catch any new clues. That's dangerous."

"That's United Politics," I retort.

"So you told him it was a trap, and he continued on anyhow? Why not tell a general?" he muses. "Why assume all the responsibility? That goes on your record, you know?"

I nod softly while releasing an agitated breath.

"I know, but if I had told on him like a child, then I would have been a rat. The other captains tend to rally for their own, and it would have just been a matter of time before I was shunned all together. My mom is too smart to think I didn't read the trail right, but she wanted me to confess it to her so she could do something about it."

"But you didn't?"

His eyes have narrowed more, and he almost seems a little angry now.

"Of course not. My mom is one of the few who knows the identity of our commander. She would have stormed into his office or home and demanded the instant demotion of that captain. Then my Uncle Brazen, Uncle Grayson, and Aunt Angelica would have shown up to throw in their two cents as well. I would have looked incapable of handling myself."

He sighs out while leaning back, and then his eyes tilt toward the vacant air above him as he loses himself in thought. His profile gives me a shiver of delight. He's perfect. His firm yet soft skin begs my fingers to stray, but I refrain.

His dark hair slides over his brow as he studies the world above us. He looks twenty, but goodness knows you can't go based off looks around here.

"And if you had known the commander's identity, would you have gone to him?" he asks, startling me out of my fixed gaze that has suddenly evoked some twisted fantasies.

"No," I say with a shrug while turning my eyes to the fire.

"Why not? If a captain ignores a tracker's fear of a trap, they need to be reprimanded. You should always go to someone," he lightly scolds, and this time I laugh.

"Chill out," I giggle, and he gives me a serious, agitated look.

"People could have died. It's fortunate your mother stepped in."

He's so serious now, when moments ago he was a laughing boy. I lean over, my eyes locking on his, and then my grin cocks up.

"No one died, and that's because I did do something. I just did it on the down-low. Don't tell anyone, but I sent a text to my Uncle Grayson and told him something felt off. I knew he would come right away, and I could avoid telling them what was really going on. I'd never put anyone in jeopardy without having a backup plan. My mother's appearance was a surprise, but then again, Uncle Grayson has never been too good about leaving her out of the loop."

He smirks a little, and then he shakes his head.

"Well, you still shouldn't have to rely on a backup plan. A captain has to trust his tracker's intuition and analysis of a situation. That's the whole point of having a tracker, after all."

"Not going to happen. The commander's pick, Mr. Hedin, overrules all other trackers - especially me. He hates the fact the United still thinks of my father as the best tracker, and it doesn't matter what I say, he's going to do his best to disprove me. The commander is just going to let him keep doing it too," I huff out while turning my eyes away again.

Who would have ever guessed that my father's legendary tracking skills would be my most crippling handicap?

"So, you don't care for the new commander it seems," he says, a secretive grin emerging to play on his face.

I shrug indifferently, though I sincerely think he's a terrible leader. My dad was much, much better, and my mom or Uncle Brazen would have been incredible too. This new guy hides to keep his identity safe, due to the war at hand.

"I couldn't say for sure," I lie. "It's not like I've ever met him. I don't agree with hiding while your men are fighting a war you're in command of, but whatevs."

He laughs again, and then he scoots in to be closer.

"Maybe he's hiding to keep his identity safe so he can watch people and find out who they really are. So many wars are lost when placed in the hands of men who prove to be one way in the light and another in the dark. Take you for example, you're too scared to tell everyone what really happened, when it's something that needs to be told."

"I'm not scared, I'm smart. And he's not going to learn anything in hiding. Besides, I'm still me in the light or the dark. I wouldn't tell the commander even if the commander was still my father or Uncle Clay. And, if the commander was watching his men, he'd see what a phony Mr. Hedin really is," I gripe, leaving the last part a whisper.

"Phony? Care to elaborate?" he asks with that dimpled grin forcing me to dissolve in the soft grass.

Please stop looking at me like that.

"You don't want to hear my conspiracy theories," I snort out derisively, ignoring the butterflies ruffling around in my stomach.

"I do want to hear them. What else have we got to do?"

I look over at the fire and see all the drunken fools tangling their lips with complete strangers as the embers spark around them. I can think of something I'd rather do with Jase , but I think it wise if I don't. I try not to sleep with men that I'm too attracted to, and I've never been so attracted to anyone else in all my life.

"You could join the party instead of hanging out with me. I'm sorry, but I'm really not too social," I murmur while urging him to return to the drunken crowd.

"Neither am I," he seductively releases, his eyes daring me to come a little closer, and I have to swallow hard against the knot that has formed in my throat.

"Okay then. Conspiracy theories it is," I rattle out nervously, and he stifles a smirk. "Do you remember the old Maverick case?"

He smiles tensely and nods. "The hybrid who escaped from Stringham Prison? I remember it very well. The United tracked him to the edge of the Unaligned borders. That case is three years old though. Why bring it up?"

My eyes dart to his belt, and I lean over to lift his shirt. He chuckles as I do so, but I have to check his badge.

"What are doing?" he asks, his eyes losing humor as my eyes fall on his smooth, sculpted abs that were hiding beneath that soft, black tee.

"Checking your rank."

His smile returns as I shakily remove my hand and his shirt falls back into place to hide the body I wish I hadn't caught a peek of now.

"I'm a lieutenant. I'm privy to any cases already released to the public," he teases.

I give him an involuntary girly grin while my cheeks blush, and then I shake my head.

"I was making sure you weren't too far up on the chain because I don't want anyone to think I'm making waves."

His smile falls again, and his seriousness returns. He's not acting like a mere lieutenant. He's acting so much like the way my father would in situations like these. He needs to stop acting like that because it's only making me like him more.

"What do you mean? There was nothing anyone could have done differently. Kellan Maverick was smart, fast, and in the end, he escaped."

"Not true," I murmur while pulling copies of the old files from my bag.

I hand them to him, and then I lean over to point out the tracks.

"You see these?" I ask while pointing to the indentions.

"Yes, Maverick was shot three times in the leg by one of our snipers. It forced him to limp."

"Exactly. He was shot, and he did have a limp, but there's something missing."

"What's that?" he asks while locking his eyes on mine.

"The hop," I say with a giddy, smug grin.

He tilts his head, his curiosity piqued and mingling with confusion.

"The hop?"

"Have you ever been shot in the leg and had to run for your life, lieutenant?" I ask with my secretive grin growing.

"Several times actually. It's a war after all."

"Then you know about the hop. You just don't think about it when you're actually running. When you're injured and limping while dashing away from a frenzied firing brigade, your mind is racing with a thousand things to do next. The only thing you don't think about is running.

"Your body is so used to such mundane actions, you don't actually think about having to focus on it. When you're limping, though, your body is out of balance. You end up stumbling." I point to the picture. "Which there are no signs of. What you do when you lose balance is... hop. Your good leg takes a hop or two in order to level your body back up, and your strides find rhythm again. It's an involuntary action, and it's missing from every picture of every track documented. These are all left, right, left, right," I murmur while pointing again.

"He was shot in the right leg, so there should be some tracks where there are two left steps instead of a right one in between," I add.

His head tilts again as he thinks back to his own times of running with an injury. His eyes light up as if he has just realized how right I am, but then he shakes his head.

"The blood. Maverick was bleeding out, and there was a trail of blood with each footprint. The lab confirmed it to be his."

I smile bigger, and then I shrug.

"The blood is where Mr. Hedin messed up the worst."

"What do you mean by that?" he asks with skepticism.

"When shot with uranium, our blood thins and gushes out. The blood found was clotting, as if it was trying to heal. Our blood doesn't start healing when infected with uranium - not without drinking fresh or packaged blood, which he had no access to during the chase.

"The quantity of blood lost wasn't as great as it should have been either. This was staged. He had someone pose as him and carry his drawn blood to drip over the premeditated steps that looked to be older than five hours to begin with. He planned this out, which means he planned on getting shot in the leg. Not just any leg, the right leg. He never really got shot. He pretended to take the bullet, and the officer who swore he saw the bullet connect was in on it. He's been missing since that day. I checked," I proudly release, my lips turning up in a glorious grin.

His lips part as if he's taking in more air to fill his lungs in their depleted state. I've officially left him speechless and holding his breath during the big ending wrap-up.

"Unbelievable," he murmurs while leaning over to study the pictures more aggressively, his eyes suggesting he's completely engrossed in my findings.

"Were you there?" he asks while keeping his eyes glued to the numerous messes of overlooked evidence.

"I was," I say with a shrug.

"Why didn't you say something?" he asks in a rather scolding tone.

Sheesh.

"I did, but Hedin didn't listen. Instead, he bit my head off for arguing with him, and he told me I didn't know half as much as I thought I did. I told you, he's got a chip on his shoulder about me."

"You should have said something to a captain, a general, hell… someone. This guy is beyond dangerous. He's gifted, more so than we realized, and he flew in under the radar for centuries before he was party to leveling a damn city and all the people in it. Stringham was never equipped to handle him. We should have killed him on sight, but they thought they could restrain him with the new sedative created to subdue hybrids."

I wince upon his mentioning of that sedative. My mother was kidnapped when that psycho who invented it used it against her. He notices my reaction, and his eyes soften.

"Sorry.I forgot-"

"It's fine. My mother's pain is in the past, and it's not my burden to speak about. Anyhow, I told my Uncle Grayson. He followed the real trail in secrecy, but without a tracker, he couldn't figure out what happened when the trail went cold."

"And Captain Morris didn't bother to call anyone?" he growls.

"He did, but the general told him it wasn't his case to be worked. Like I said, Hedin is the commander's pet. Everyone trusts him implicitly, and since he's my boss, he refused to let me take leave. I was going to go track down the real trail myself with Uncle Grayson, but Hedin suspected that. He thinks I'm after his job."

He sighs out heavily and then slouches back.

"Politics," he huffs.

"Politics and smug ass sons of bitches in authority," I add with a grin.

He smirks lightly, and then he tilts his head again as seriousness returns.

"What happened today? Why did he bark at you?"

"Not laughing at me anymore?" I muse with my daring grin growing.

He smiles his full-flashing, panty-dropping smile that loves fucking with my panicky heart.

"Not at all. You have my full attention now, Ms. Banner."

I smile lightly while blushing again, and I turn over my sketch book before pulling out my phone.

"These are some pictures I snapped earlier. See the tire treads?" I ask while handing him my phone.

"What about them?" he asks while overlooking the less than obvious.

"There's a small, barely noticeable overlap. It happens when a car is put into park and the tires shift backwards just slightly enough to make this. That means they stopped long enough for someone to use more than just a brake. I think they changed vehicles and someone else took over driving the car we're chasing."

"What?" he gasps while looking closer. "That road is nothing but mud. We would have noticed another vehicle's tracks."

"Not if that vehicle was parked at least fifty miles away. It's outside of our search perimeter. They could have used the trees as their best friends and made like Tarzan across the wooded area to avoid leaving footprints. That's why the tracks shift off the straight path they were following. That tree-" I say while shifting the picture "- is low enough for one of my kind or your kind to reach from the hood of a car. If the others were waiting in the same tree, they would have just swapped places."

"That's a lot of information from just one slightly overlapped tire print. Where did you come up with all this?" he asks while giving me his complete attention.

"My dad always told me to never just look at something head on. He told me to view it from every angle. The obvious is always too easy. He said to think like I would think instead of following the easy trail. If I was running from someone catching up to me, I would do this exact maneuver to lose my trailers. These are professionals. Hedin isn't as qualified as our brilliant commander thinks he is. He's a low-baller playing in the big leagues. He thinks too small, and it's why they keep getting one step ahead."

"So what's that?" he asks while pointing to my sketch.

"That's the way I think they went. If I'm right, they would have headed north toward Lancaster. It's a huge city booming with too many faces. By my calculations, they'll reach the city in two days. They could disappear there long enough to meet up with whoever they went to see. We'll never know their intended target now, but this is what I do to take the edge off. I feel like it gives me some closure, even though the case goes on unfinished. It's a little annoying to know the answers and never have anyone listen."

My eyes burn against the ground, my agitation seeping through my tone as I huff out my frustrations for always being overlooked and belittled. He sighs out, and then he looks at his watch.

"I should go get some sleep. You too," he murmurs very authoritatively.

"I'm sorry if I said something wrong," I utter apologetically, my sudden sense of insecurity surging forth. Why did I tell him all that? Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. "Please don't tell anyone about this. Hedin would never let me follow him on a big case again."

"I promise I won't get you into trouble. I really just need some rest. I have to head out on a different detail tomorrow."

"Oh," I murmur a little disappointedly, and I see a smirk edge itself on the corner of his cocked up lips.

"I'll see you again, Ms. Banner. You can count on that," he says with a seductive air, and chills consume me to the point I shiver.

Oh damn. I can't see you again.