One (One Universe)

door open and step into the arena, the buzz runs over my whole body — suddenly, powerfully, but not painful or unpleasant at all. This is warm, thrilling, bonding me to him.
    I sneak along the wall and up to his bed, and his eyelids flutter. Relief washes over me so hard and fast I think I might collapse and lay beside him, there on the bed, where his long legs stretch a little too far, his heels hanging off the end.
    When his brow starts to furrow, his eyes still closed, I can’t wait any more. I can’t. I press my lips to his, gently, then firmer. He doesn’t respond. Please let my Elias be somewhere in there.
    The buzz intensifies even more, running through my veins, charging my muscles. Here, with my lips to Elias’s in the most dangerous place for us I can think of, I feel safe. More important than that, I feel — no, I know that I am — strong. I can literally do anything.
    He twitches again, and my heart breaks. How much have they done to him in the short time that he’s been here? Has he been through pain? I have to know.
    Behind me, a door snicks shut.
    Instead of trying to find a place to hide, I go light. I did it so fast in the hallway, and it happens much faster this time. The air gusts against my body as I go up. I flatten my body against the vaulted ceiling, 25 feet above Elias. He lies so still it’s terrifying.
    Two women in white coats stride into the arena with syringes in hand. From this angle, I can barely see an IV port poking out from the sinewy muscles at the inside of Elias’s left elbow. It’s not hooked up to a bag of fluids or anything, so I know it must be there so that they can inject him — quickly and maybe even often. One of the women chatters about her weekend, and the other babbles about her nephew’s wife’s food allergies.
    I want to spit on them.
    The one on the right pauses beside Elias, injects the entire syringe into his port, and walks away. As they’re moving toward Michael and Max, Mom walks over and intercepts them. She doesn’t even let them touch the boys.
    “I’ve got these two, ladies, thank you,” she murmurs. My body heat rises with pure anger. Even though Dad explained to me what she’s doing here, I still can’t get my head around it. I wonder how much Michael and Max have already been through, how much she and Dad have known about, and my stomach turns.
    But I do believe Dad. Still trust that he loves Michael and Max enough that they’re going to get them out, to run away.
    And I’m too in love with Elias and feeling too guilty about letting him get this far — all the way into the Hub — to leave here without him. There’s no way in hell I’m doing that.
    The nurses walk out, and I go heavy again. Mom hovers over Michael and Max, but her head whips around when I land.
    “Merrin!” she whisper-shouts, her eyes wild. She gathers herself and says with a hiss and a jerk of her head. “Your father’s through that door. Get in there.”
    I lock my knees, standing my ground. “Look,” I say, setting my jaw to match my legs, “I know you have to get the boys out of here. I want you to. But I am not leaving here without him.” I reach back and grab Elias’s hand, which lays limp on the bed. I swear I feel a twitch from the tendons on top of it, but when I glance back at him, he’s still as death.
    Mom draws in a sharp breath. “Merrin Grey. You listen to me. You are in great danger. So much more than the boys. If you understood…”
    “I understand, Mom. I found the files in the closet. I understand that I can transfer. And I understand that you brought me here when I was little. I could have understood a hell of a lot sooner if you ever freaking talked to me. If you were ever honest at all.”
    She sucks in a breath. “It was either keep you here in Superior or have them chasing after you. After all of us.”
    The giant white room is silent but for the rhythmic beeping of the machines attached to the boys and Elias, documenting heart rates and blood pressure. The tick of Elias’s heartbeat on the monitor steadies me, strengthens me. I squeeze his hand hard, only stopping when my fingernails dig into it.
    “Elias is lucky, honey. They’ve decided to stop testing him. Decided he’s useless. Eventually they’ll let him go. He’ll be back to normal.”
    I clench my jaw, and tears burn at the corner of my eyes. “They might leave him. But I’m not going to.”
    “But you are so young. You have so much time. You’ll find each