by Eva Chase
I started the video playing and expanded it to fill the screen. Zoomed in, the image was so pixelated Jeremy and I looked like characters from an ancient video game. Definitely not recognizable. But as the video steadied, the details became a little clearer.
Jeremy loped along with his camera bag on his back, the sun gleaming off that glossy dark brown hair. You still couldn’t see his face, but it was an excellent shot of his ass, I had to say. Maybe he could be recognized from that?
Here I came out through the cemetery gate. I could still remember that moment, catching sight of him jogging toward me. The fluttering in my chest that handsome face and the powerful body beneath it had set off. I’d started walking, giving him a quick smile, and—
The screech of the tires made me flinch. My back jarred against the wooden back of the chair. A jolt of adrenaline shot through me as if I really were back there, with the truck barreling toward me all over again.
I already knew what happened next. Jeremy sprang forward, grabbed my arm, and hauled me out of the way. The truck had whipped right past us...
Wait. Through the daze of the memory, my gaze snagged on an odd movement in the literal recording of the past. I scrolled back through the video and played it again.
Jeremy hauled me out of the way. That had definitely happened. But the truck—it really did look as if it were careening straight toward him.
Then his arm shoved out through the air. And suddenly the truck lurched to the side. It slammed past him, only clipping his elbow.
No, that couldn’t be right. He couldn’t have pushed an entire speeding truck out of the way. It had to be the angle of the shot or something.
I replayed that section of the video again, and again, and again. My pulse started to thump hard and steady in my ears.
No, I wasn’t imagining it. But it didn’t look as if Jeremy had even touched the truck. It had jolted off course before it had even reached him.
As if he’d pushed it aside just by wanting to.
A shiver passed over my skin. I’d thought it was strange, hadn’t I, when I’d tried to put together the events of the crash afterward. I’d thought the truck should have hit him where he was standing. And then today in his apartment... The way he’d grabbed my glass before it hit the floor... I’d almost thought it had stopped before his hands had closed around it.
I’d convinced myself I’d only been imagining things. Because things like that just didn’t happen. Shockingly hot guys couldn’t just move trucks by will alone or freeze glasses in mid-air. At least, I hadn’t believed they could.
It was right after that incident with the glass that Jeremy had gone cold and started making excuses to get me out of there. And he’d panicked even more when he’d seen that video.
My mind was whirling. I pressed the heel of my hand to my forehead, trying to steady my thoughts. They kept racing on. But one pealed clear through the rest.
Jeremy had some kind of superhuman power. A power that let him move objects without touching them. And he was petrified by the idea of anyone else finding out.
Holy shit.
I’d gotten what I wanted. I understood why he’d freaked out. His reaction made a lot more sense now, even if the how of his strange ability didn’t quite.
Now that I knew, what the heck was I going to do about it?
9
Jeremy
The first thing I did when I got back upstairs to my apartment was snap a picture of my kitchen. I expected I’d be sending it to Grace within the hour, once I was well on the road. Fulfilling that promise was the least I could do after I’d jerked her around so much.
I swallowed the jab of pain that came with that thought and got busy. Laptop into the computer bag. Enough food for a couple days into a backpack. I tossed those by the apartment door and strode to the bedroom to grab my quick-escape suitcases from the closet. At the same time, I was dialing my parents’ number on my burner phone.
The video only had a few hundred views so far. Maybe no one who mattered had seen it. But I couldn’t count on it staying that way. And if it went full-out viral?
Shit, shit, shit. There wasn’t anything else I could call this situation but total shit.
“Jeremy!” Dad said in his usual dry but jovial voice when he picked up the phone. “It’s good to hear from you.”
“It’s going to be a lot less good when I tell you why I’m calling, Dad,” I said. “I screwed up.”
“Hmm.” Dad never sounded all that worried even when circumstances were at their most dire. I guessed surviving seven years as a lab rat in a secret experimental facility put a lot of things in perspective. “What kind of screw-up are we talking about exactly? We’ll figure it out. We always have so far.”
“I don’t think there’s anything to figure out. I’ve just got to move again. Maybe out of the country, at least for a while.” Where could I head? I wanted to be somewhere with a decent airport nearby in case I needed to fly quickly to anyone else’s aid. London was out with Nick already there.
“Hold on a minute,” Dad said. “Start from the beginning and tell me what’s going on.”
No time to give him any details. “There was a woman—I saw a truck about to hit her—I jumped in to get her out of the way, and I used my ability to push the truck. I thought no one had noticed, but a video just went up. Someone caught the crash on their phone.”
“Let me take a look. Can you send me the link?”
I checked my regular phone and texted the web address to Dad. He was silent as I hauled my suitcases over to the door with the rest of my things. I’d go down the street to a different apartment building, call for a taxi from there, and get them to take me to the rental car place. I already had a fresh ID in the back of my wallet for when they asked to see my driver’s license. From there I could drive to LAX. And then I could go anywhere.
I knew Dad was watching the video on his computer, because the tire skid carried faintly over the phone. He dragged in a breath.
“Okay. That’s not good. But it’s not an emergency yet.”
“Are you kidding me? It couldn’t be more obvious that I did something no human being should be able to. If the Alpha Project people are keeping an eye out for people like us even a little bit—”
“We don’t know if they are,” Dad cut in. He sighed. “Look, Jeremy, I know you’re worried about the rest of us. But the fact is, we haven’t seen any definite indication that Alpha Project is still running and still ‘recruiting’ since the first few years after your mother and I got out of there. We’ve been so careful. We always move before there’s any chance of them sniffing around, so there’s no way we could know whether they would.”
“And it’s safest that way,” I said.
“Well, your mother and I have been thinking maybe it’s time we found out exactly what we’re still up against. If we’re up against anything at all.”
“What are you talking about?” I said. All our lives, Mom and Dad had drilled into us to be wary. To watch out for anyone who might be associated with the experimental lab they’d escaped from all those years ago. Why was now any different? “Even if Alpha Project isn’t around anymore, there might be other people who’d want to exploit our abilities. Isn’t that what you’ve always said?”
“It is,” Dad said. “I know it might be hard to take a different perspective... But we’ve spent so long running. We’ve spent so long watching the five of you constantly running from one place to another. Never being able to set down roots. If there’s a way that you kids could have an actual life...”
He paused. “You’ve always been the fastest to react, Jeremy. I know if you see any sign that you’re actually in danger, you can get out of there quickly. I can’t help thinking it’d be useful to find out if anyone will come looking.”
My free hand dropped to my side. I looked blankly at my suitcases. “So you want me to stay?”
“Just until you see if the video has drawn any attention. They won’t rush in
guns blazing. For all they know, it’s a prank, someone messing with special effects. They’ll poke around, asking questions. You’ll know they’re looking for you before they know you’re what they’re looking for. If someone shows up, you can get a brief idea of what we’re up against—and then get out of there before they track you down.”
“And if we know what we’re up against, we’ll have a better idea how to keep ahead of them from here on. Or whether we even have to.” When he laid it out, I had to admit the plan made sense. All this time we might as well have been running from ghosts. Knowing how diligently people were looking for our kind of talents—knowing whether they were at all—would only help us in the long run.
And I did trust myself to get out when the getting was good. If anyone was going to act as bait, it should be me.
“All right,” I said. “I’ll hang tight and keep an eye out. If anything happens, I’ll let you know. You stay safe, okay? And Mom too.”
“Always,” Dad said. “We couldn’t be more proud of you, Jeremy. Don’t forget that.”
The words made something in my chest twist. My hand dropped to my pocket, my thumb tracing over the outline of that worn shard of glass. There were a lot of things I didn’t want to forget.
“Yeah,” I said, my voice thickening.
I hung up, carried my suitcases back to the bedroom, and sank down on the bed to think. If I were a sadistic researcher trying to track down the guy in that video, how would I do it?
My face hadn’t been visible. My clothes had been generic, a plain T-shirt and jeans. There was no way anyone could ID me from that.
But a car crash—police involvement was a given. If someone got into those records, they’d only get the fake ID I’d shown the cops, which had a different name from the one on my phone contract and the lease for this apartment. It wouldn’t lead them to me. They’d nose around, asking about that name.
And they’d go after the other person involved in the accident, the one who’d been right there when I’d used my power. Grace didn’t have the protection of a fake name.
My jaw tightened. I couldn’t see her again. I’d already potentially put her in the line of fire. If they got confirmation that she knew me beyond that brief incident...
I had other things to do to get prepared for what—or who—might be coming. I pushed myself off the bed and headed out, making for the car rental place first. It’d be best to have a vehicle right on hand in case I really needed to dash for it.
I picked out a non-descript compact Ford. Once it was parked in the apartment building’s underground lot, I stashed my suitcases and some other essentials in the trunk.
There, now I had a getaway vehicle, fully stocked.
But the thought of one of the assholes who’d once tortured Mom and Dad now targeting Grace kept niggling in the back of my mind. She wouldn’t realize how careful she needed to be. If she let it slip that she knew something about me, and her interrogators got aggressive, how far would they go to find out what else she knew?
A prickle ran down my back. I wavered and then grabbed a hoodie out of my closet. A quick glance through the internet directory gave me an address for A. Trevell—the only one in the city. Out in the same neighborhood as that cemetery. It had to be her. The phone must still be registered to her grandmother’s name.
I wouldn’t make any contact. Nothing obvious. I’d just confirm she was still okay.
When I got to Grace’s street, it was completely dark out. That worked for me. I kept my hood low and ambled down the street as if I were on my way home. It was a nice residential area, not anywhere people would be all that wary of random pedestrians passing by.
Grace’s house was halfway down the street. A quaint little bungalow in peach-painted stucco. It looked like a grandmother kind of house. The lights in the windows were on. I didn’t get close enough to try to peer inside, which seemed too risky and too creepy. But the warmth of their glow reassured me.
A house a few down from hers had a garage protruding out from its face. I ducked into the shadows beside it and stood there to watch.
Now that I was out here, I felt kind of ridiculous. The smell from the garbage bin leaning up against the garage near me made me grimace. What did I expect to see hanging around here for a few minutes? It wasn’t as if I could risk spending the whole night standing guard.
I stayed there, rocking a little on the balls of my feet. Debating with myself whether to wait longer or just go. Give it a few more minutes, I thought. Just to get the lay of the land.
It had been more like half an hour, and I still hadn’t convinced myself to leave, when a black sedan purred along the road past me.
I watched it, the hairs on the back of my neck rising. I couldn’t have said there was anything definitely wrong about it, but it set my nerves on edge all the same. The tinted windows. Its slow cruise down the street.
It slowed, just for a moment, outside Grace’s house. My pulse lurched. Then it drove on.
I raised my phone and snapped a picture of its retreating back end. My body had gone cold. It might not be anything. The driver might not even have slowed on purpose, or not because of Grace. But I wasn’t leaving that to chance.
I waited long enough to feel sure the car wasn’t coming back, at least not any time soon. If the people in it only wanted to question her, intruding late at night wouldn’t be the smartest strategy—and from what my parents had said, these guys were as methodical as they were cruel. Then I hurried off in the opposite direction. When I’d put several blocks between me and Grace’s street, I retrieved my burner phone from my back pocket and dialed up my youngest brother.
“Hey, Liam,” I said when he picked up. “Do you still have that line into the DMV?” Liam had made a hobby out of computers. In particular, how to use them to get into all sorts of places he wasn’t supposed to.
I could hear his smirk over the phone. “Of course I do. What do you need, Jer?”
I pulled up the photo of the car on my other phone. “I’ve got a license plate I need you to run for me.”
10
Grace
“Hey, Grace. Grace!”
I yanked my head up, realizing I’d spent at least ten seconds staring at the cage I’d just locked in a daze. Britta was standing at the end of the aisle, her hands on her hips.
“Geez,” she said. “I called you, like, ten times and you didn’t even move.”
“Sorry,” I said quickly, shoving my hair back behind my ears. The truth was I’d been in kind of a daze through all of today’s shift. In every quiet moment, my mind slipped back to that video. To the way the car had jolted away from Jeremy’s shoving hand as if he’d moved it with strength of will alone.
He hadn’t texted me. Hadn’t called me. I didn’t know if he’d keep his promise. Part of me wanted to see him right now and demand all the answers, and part of me was terrified of what those answers might be. I’d never even believed anything like this might be possible.
He hadn’t wanted me to know. The way he’d hustled me out of the apartment had made that crystal clear. If I let it go, I’d probably never see him again. I could pretend nothing like this had ever happened.
But was that really what I wanted?
When I remembered the way he’d grinned at me as we joked around, or the feel of his lips on mine, I was pretty sure the answer was no.
Britta was still watching me. “What did you want?” I asked, leaving the cage and ambling toward her. My shift was almost over anyway. Wonderful. Then I could go home and stew on my own like I had all last night. I could probably blame some of my haziness on lack of sleep.
Or I could march right back to Jeremy’s apartment, hammer on his door, and demand an explanation. I had to admit that idea was sounding more appealing by the minute. Maybe fatigue was good for my courage. Or lack of common sense.
Hey, maybe those were the same thing.
“I just wanted to know where you put the adoption forms for the collie mix that w
ent out this morning,” Britta said, yanking me out of my thoughts again.
“Oh, right. I think I left them in the visiting room. Just a sec—I’ll go get them.”
She rolled her eyes at me. “That’s okay. I’ll get them. The way you are today, you’ll probably forget why you went in there before you even find them.”
She stalked off. Wow. I knew I was being spacey, but that comment was uncalled for, wasn’t it?
I meandered to the front room and checked my watch. Oh, my shift wasn’t just almost over—I’d actually stayed five minutes later than I needed to.
I waved to Ceren at the front desk and headed out. Clouds were clotting the sky, and the wind on my face was warm but thick with humidity. I picked up my pace. Better to get out of here before the downpour started.
I was halfway across the parking lot when a totally unfamiliar voice called out my name. “Miss Trevell?”
My steps faltered. I stopped and turned.
A middle-aged man with gray sprinkled through his reddish blond hair was standing outside a black sedan at the far end of the parking lot. When I looked over, he hurried toward me, the thin beige trench coat he was wearing flapping behind him. He smiled at me, but something about the look in his watery blue eyes made me tense up.
“You’re Grace Trevell?” he said, sounding more certain now.
“I am,” I said, resisting the urge to back away from him. “Why did you want to know?”
The corner of his mouth quirked higher. “Just a small matter I’m investigating. Nothing that should affect you beyond this conversation. I’m Malcolm Finch, a private investigator of sorts.”
He held out his phone and tapped the touchscreen. The video I’d already watched way too many times in the last twenty-four hours started playing. My body stiffened, and not just because of the tire screech.
“Am I correct that the woman in this video is you?” Malcolm asked. His voice was too calm and polite for asking about someone who’d nearly been road kill.
