by Sophie Davis
All around us, the agents were busy quizzing each other on their cover legends and going over all points of ingress and egress from the auction house. No one was eavesdropping on our conversation.
“Night terrors. She had an episode around midnight. I gave her a sedative, but it didn’t seem to help,” Brand replied, green eyes clouded with concern.
Penny’s “episodes” were distressing to watch. Lapsing into a catatonic state, she became unresponsive and rocked back and forth in place, as if under a spell. Tears poured down her cheeks, but she didn’t seem to notice. Sometimes she’d scrunch up her face like she was in pain. Or open her mouth to scream, but no sound came out. Other times, her body would contort into awkward, uncomfortable looking positions that she was incapable of performing under ordinary circumstances. It was all after-effects of the torture, her mind reliving the trauma.
Thankfully, Penny never remembered the episodes. I’d searched her mind to make sure that was actually the case, and she hadn’t simply repressed the too-painful memories. From the moment an episode began to the moment it ended was a black hole in the timeline of Penny’s life.
Brand and I almost never agreed on anything, if only because neither of us was willing to admit the other was right on even the most trivial of matters. Except when it came to Penny. Brand loved my best friend just as much as I did, albeit in a different way. His protectiveness over her mirrored my own.
So when Brand said, “I think it would be best if Penny stays here today,” I readily agreed.
“No,” Penny said, her protest weak and whispered. She cleared her throat, and in a stronger voice added, “I am fine. Last night wasn’t my first episode, and it won’t be the last. I can get through this.”
Pale hand trembling slightly, she reached for her water glass.
I met Brand’s gaze, anticipating a fight. He wasn’t the biggest proponent of Penny joining UNITED, and had tried to talk her out of accepting the job offer from the beginning. But Penny was nearly as stubborn as I was. She’d ignored Brand’s warning that the adrenaline of the missions might cause her health to decline faster.
Penny turned to face me, lime-green irises full of determination.
“Talia, please. Don’t make me stay behind. I want to go. I joined UNITED to help other Created, because I understand how hard it is to control all of that extra power. So far, all I’ve done is chase Created from one country to another. Even the ones we’ve managed to catch,” she shook her head sadly, “I’m not sure if they really are better off in containment. But today, liberating Created, saving them from slavery—that will make a difference in their lives. I will actually be helping them. Please, let me help them.”
Well, damn. How could I say no after a speech like that?
“Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked.
Penny’s smile was stiff and forced, but I could see the resolve behind it.
“I might not be the best right now, but I’m fine, Tal. Really. I will get through this, and I will be fine.”
“Would you tell me if you really weren’t up for it?”
This time Penny’s smile was genuine, a little color returning to her waxen cheeks.
“Yes. As badly as I want to go, I wouldn’t compromise the mission by saying I’m okay when I’m not. Unlike some people I know.”
Her jab made me grin, if only because she could still find some sense of humor within herself. And yes, I was too stubborn to admit a weakness.
“I can’t fathom who you’re referring to. Okay, let’s go over your cover story. Tell me what it’s like to be the wife of a gazillionaire.”
An hour before departure time, our group dispersed to get dressed. For the first time, instead of donning boots, an adapti-suit, and an arsenal of weapons, my mission attire consisted of a slinky dress, stupidly high heels, and a sparkly clutch bag. Less-than-ideal-for-combat clothing aside, the real problem lay in the lack of weapons. The silky fabric was too thin and too tight to wear underwear, let alone my knife belt. I tried strapping a blade to the inside of my thigh, but found the arrangement extremely uncomfortable.
“You’ll be searched anyway, Tals,” Erik told me. An amused smile parted his lips as he watched me trying to find an inconspicuous location to hide a weapon, my dress hiked up around my thighs.
Already dressed in black combat gear, a tranquilizer gun and one that fired real bullets snug in holsters at his waist, he looked the part of a UNITED agent ready for his mission. I, on the other hand, looked like an overly made-up child playing dress-up with her older sister’s clothes.
I tossed the dagger onto the chaise lounge and smoothed the skirt of my dress into place.
“How do I look?” I asked, twirling for Erik’s inspection.
His turquoise eyes glittered in the dim lighting and heat sparked beneath the cool, detached mask he always wore just before a mission. With my enhanced hearing, the increased tempo of his heartbeat was audible.
“Do you really need to ask?” Erik replied, crossing the room to join me in front of the full-length mirror.
Between the indecent thoughts running through my boyfriend’s head and his visceral reaction to the rare sight of me in formal wear, I had no doubt Erik appreciated my appearance. But when Erik’s arms pulled me tightly against his sculpted chest, and he whispered, “The only thing anyone is going to notice is how amazing you look,” I was further reassured the outfit would pass even the most inquisitive inspection.
“Be careful today, okay?” Erik added mentally.
“Always,” I joked, responding in kind.
“I’m serious, Talia. Get in, do your job, and get out. Don’t pull any stunts. We are working with limited intel on this one. There are too many unknown variables in play to go off-book.”
“You sound like Victoria,” I huffed.
With one finger on the underside of my chin, Erik tipped my head back and forced me to meet his gaze. All traces of the earlier heat were gone, replaced by concern that verged on fear. In light of our early-morning conversation with Victoria, Erik was nervous that I’d try to free both the Created and the Talented. And it wasn’t the disobeying orders or the ramifications from the council that Erik worried about. He was anxious about the danger inherent in helping our fellow Talents. Erik was aware that leaving them behind went against my nature, and he didn’t fully believe I’d be able to walk away.
I stood on tiptoes and pressed my lips to his in a silent promise to be smart. To not take any unnecessary risks.
Erik melted into the kiss, hands trailing up and down the silk material covering less of my skin that I’d have liked. Heat chased his touch, leaving burning embers on my skin when his fingers moved on to the next bit of exposed skin. Curling my own fingers into his dark hair, I molded my body against his.
Moments like these were what kept me going, what got me through the tough times and made me believe the future held promise. One day, our world wouldn’t revolve around missions and danger. The Creation drug and its horrible side-effects would be a distant memory. The fate of our kind would no longer hang in the balance.
A not-so-subtle throat-clearing from the doorway to our bedroom pulled me from my daydreams of a sunshine-and-rainbows future. I groaned inwardly and released Erik, stepping back just in time to see him give the unwelcome intruder a one-finger wave in rude greeting.
I laughed. Based on the distinctive brain patterns, I didn’t need to turn around to know the identity of our guest.
“I’ll be ready to go in a second, Frederick,” I called over my shoulder.
“Now, dear,” my boyfriend-for-the-day replied dryly. “We cannot be late.”
“Treat her right,” Erik joked. “But not too good. Don’t make me look bad. Oh, and watch the roaming hands. I’d hate to make Henri a widower at such a young age.”
“Duly noted,” Frederick deadpanned.
Despite the craziness of our lives lately, or maybe in spite of it, Frederick and Henri had been discussing the possibility of making their union o
fficial. I hoped they did. We needed the reminders of love and life that a wedding would bring.
I gave Erik a quick, chaste kiss on the cheek, and then turned to face Frederick.
“Let’s go, honeybunch.”
Frederick’s lip curled in disgust. “Please don’t tell me you’re planning on calling me all sorts of ridiculous nicknames today?”
I shrugged.
“I don’t know, sugar pie. Maybe. I’m not used to undercover work, what if I forget your fake name? This way I have one less thing to remember.”
“Awesome,” Frederick replied with an exaggerated roll of his brown eyes. “Come on, before Brand sends a search party.”
Erik accompanied Frederick and me downstairs, keeping a firm, somewhat desperate, grip on my hand the entire way. His light-hearted, jovial attitude had been left in our bedroom, vanishing the moment we crossed the threshold into the hallway. Nerves made him edgy and he worked his jaw tirelessly back and forth while we walked.
This was the first mission since joining UNITED that Erik would not be by my side from start to finish, and that worried him. Our scant intel on the Poachers only added to Erik’s concerns. If nothing else, TOXIC had trained us that preparation was key. Walking into a hostile situation with only a portion of the facts was not smart. Thankfully, instead of voicing his concerns again, Erik sent calming waves meant to reassure me that the mission was destined for success.
The other members of the two undercover teams were dressed and waiting in front of Walburton Manor’s majestic wooden doors when we arrived. Our group of auction-crashers was quite the sight. Brand, Henri, Frederick, and Jay were impeccably outfitted in matching tuxedos. Angus was serving as Henri’s personal bodyguard for the event, since his was the only fake identity that warranted one. As such, our Scottish team member was dressed in a black suit with a hip holster half concealed beneath the jacket. He’d certainly be asked to remove the gun once we arrived at Andrew’s Rock, so the weapon was only for appearance. Luckily, like the rest of us, Angus’s Talents were a far better source of protection than anything manmade.
The other women going undercover with me—Catherine, Gina, Ronnie, and Penny—were all dressed in their beautiful gowns. It was definitely a concern that our attire was better suited for a fancy dinner at some posh restaurant, followed by drinks at a high-end nightclub than a mission to free our brethren. It was a necessary evil, unfortunately. If it came down to it, the heels we’d all borrowed from the stockroom would probably work as makeshift daggers. I could just imagine the sight—we’d never live it down.
Fully immersing herself in her new identity, Penny had gone above and beyond, wearing an impressively natural looking wine-colored wig.
“You like?” she sent when she caught me staring at her new hair color.
“I love. Was that in Victoria’s wardrobe room? I didn’t even see you grab it.”
Penny’s smile was coy as she fluffed her hair.
“This is all me. Riley inspired me. So I gave the partial morph thing a try. Pretty cool, huh?”
“Whoa. Very cool,” I sent back.
Three hoverlimos were parked in a line outside the front doors. Chaz, Thom, and Riley were already in place at the wheels, each dressed like a cross between a chauffeur and a bodyguard. Viktor was going with Erik and Janelle as part of the strike team. Once we arrived at the auction, Chaz and Thom would join them. Riley, however, would infiltrate the auction, morphing into Jaylen Monroe’s bodyguard, Benji. He was our best chance of on-the-spot intel in the areas that would not be open to the public.
Willa and Honora were to remain at Walburton Manor. Like the council, they would be able to watch a live-action feed provided by the drones trolling Andrew’s Rock.
“It’s about time,” Brand called when Frederick, Erik, and I arrived.
“Limos,” Catherine ordered in her brief yet effective way, gesturing towards the vehicles with a sweep of her hand.
I turned to Erik for a final goodbye.
“I’m here if you need me. I’ll keep the connection open,” he sent, squeezing me so tightly I had trouble breathing.
“You better,” I sent back.
Brand came over to exchange last minute details with Erik as I followed Frederick towards one of the vehicles. Riley and Honora were saying their own goodbyes, the impressive dual Talent reassuring his girlfriend the mission would be a breeze and she had nothing to worry about.
Spotting Honora standing off to the side alone, I touched Frederick’s arm and nodded in her direction.
“I’ll be quick,” I muttered.
He nodded and pointed toward the car that Chaz would be driving.
“I’ll be inside.”
“Hey,” I said when I reached Honora, plastering on a fake smile for the other girl’s benefit.
“Hey,” Honora replied uncertainly. Arms crossed protectively over her chest, she looked like she was trying to hold in the array of emotions screaming to be released. I had to block my mind to prevent the fear she projected from swallowing me whole.
“We’re going to get them back, you’ll see,” I promised, dosing my words with conviction I didn’t feel.
Honora’s tense expression relaxed visibly.
“James, too? Riley says your orders are for the Created only. But James isn’t Created. Does that mean you’ll be leaving him behind?”
Shit. I hadn’t considered that.
One look into Honora’s pleading eyes and I made a promise, one I intended to keep regardless of the consequences.
“James, too. I’ll personally make sure we get him.”
“Talia,” Erik’s voice inside my head was a sharp rebuke and carried a warning that I promptly ignored. I wasn’t promising to rescue all of the Talented, so I wasn’t technically going against orders. Just one of them.
That poor boy had suffered for Kenly, I was not repaying his bravery and stoicism by leaving him at the Poachers’ mercy.
“I promise,” I added to Honora.
To be honest, I wasn’t good at comforting others. At least not in the way normal people do. I used my manipulation to ease fears, calm nerves, and alleviate pain. Only with Erik, and occasionally Penny, did I ever use physical touch to reassure another person. Although Honora appeared to be the same age as me, she looked so much younger than I felt. And more vulnerable than I’d been in over a decade. Acting on instincts I was unaware I possessed, I hugged her.
“I promise,” I repeated.
The other girl stiffened at first, surprised and touched by a stranger’s kindness. But when I squeezed her tighter, she relaxed and hugged me back.
“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice sounding dangerously close to tears.
Willa joined us, taking my place in Honora’s arms when I pulled away. She offered me a tight smile that didn’t reach her hazel eyes. As a parting gift, I sent one strong burst of power towards both girls and watched as hope replaced despair in their expressions. Then, I went to join Frederick.
Penny and Brand were also riding in our limo. We had no concrete proof linking our respective assumed identities to one another, but the billionaire boys’ club in the States wasn’t huge. It seemed reasonable that Gregory Bolt and Lawrence Haines were at least acquaintances.
When first announced, the arrangement had not thrilled me. I liked to spend the last minutes before a mission relaxing, psyching myself up for what was about to come. Brand’s presence usually put me in the opposite of a calm, rational state of being. Having Penny there as an intermediary did help. And noting the pinkness in her cheeks and the alertness in her gaze gave me one less thing to worry about. A quick peek inside Penny’s head told me her frame of mind had improved, too. She’d moved past the previous night’s episode.
Frederick, on the other hand, was a tightly wound ball of anxiety on the verge of unraveling. He’d been holding it together in front of the others, but he dropped the ruse once alone with us. Long, thin fingers raked constantly through his carefully gelled
hair, mussing the strands. Dark circles ringed his under-eyes and I wondered how much sleep he’d gotten the night before.
Technically, I was our team leader. A concession Victoria had made when I agreed to be part of UNITED’s special taskforce for hunting the Created. But Frederick was actually much higher-ranking within the international agency. Most of his time was spent by Victoria’s side, remotely viewing the TOXIC officials we had yet to find. It suddenly occurred to me that it was probably what he’d been doing in his downtime and probably why he currently resembled a member of the walking dead.
I glanced across the limo, to where Penny and Brand were locked in a staring contest. One look at Brand’s bulging jaw and scrunched up eyes told me that they were having a mental conversation. Erik was right, Brand really did look constipated.
At the moment, Frederick was my biggest concern.
“Hey,” I said quietly, touching the sleeve of his tuxedo jacket to get Frederick’s attention. “You doing okay?”
“Hmm? Oh, yeah, fine,” he replied, sounding distracted. “You?”
“Good.”
My response elicited a smile from him.
“Really, Talia? Good?”
“Okay, no, not ‘good’,” I admitted quietly.
Suddenly, from across the limo, Brand launched into a diatribe. It took me a minute to realize he wasn’t talking to us, but rather the entire team. I hastily pulled my earbud from the sparkly clutch in my lap and fixed the comm unit into my right ear. Annoying as I found Penny’s worse half, I had to admit Brand was a good leader.
“This is all so messed up,” I muttered, tuning out Brand’s rambling.
“I know,” Frederick agreed. “Like we didn’t have enough to worry about before this.”
His tone was bitter, the words acidic when they left his mouth. Very un-Frederick-like.
“Maybe he shouldn’t be coming?” Penny sent to me, obviously more interested in my and Frederick’s conversation than her boyfriend’s lecture.
“I was just thinking the same thing. Too late now, though.” I studied Frederick again, no happier with my second appraisal of his frazzled state. “He’ll be fine,” I sent Penny, my thought meant to reassure us both.
