by Syrie James
He shook his head, staring at the ground, as if unable to look her in the eye. A bit unsteady now, he reached out and braced himself with one hand against what remained of the frame of the stairwell doorway.
Claire suddenly recognized the odd look in his eyes. “Alec, are you high?”
His silence was an admission of guilt. He continued to stare anywhere but at her.
All the tension, suspicion, doubt, and worry that Claire had been bottling up for so long came to a head, her entire body vibrating with renewed fury and the need to speak out. “Alec! What the hell is going on with you?” she snapped.
“I can’t—” he began.
“Did someone attack you, because you messed with Malcolm’s blood supply?”
Alec’s head snapped up in shock. But his expression told her she was right.
“Yeah, I’ve known about that for a while. Why have you been lying to me? Either you come clean with me right now or we’re done.”
Claire couldn’t believe those words had just come out of her mouth, but at the same time, she wasn’t sorry she’d said them. It felt like a relief to finally have it out in the open.
For a tortuously long minute, Alec just stood there, his face awash with conflicting emotions: surprise, guilt, pain, and regret, all overlaid with a deep uncertainty. At last, he took a long, deep breath, and said:
“All right, Claire. I’ll tell you.”
twenty-six
Three hours earlier, Alec loosened his button-down collar in frustration as he pulled his car out of the Los Angeles Flower Market parking lot. It had been hectic and crowded because it was Valentine’s Day. Traffic getting downtown had been horrendous. He’d barely made it to the market before they closed for the afternoon, but it was the only place Alec could find Claire’s favorite flower in this season.
Now the westbound traffic threatened to make him late. Drumming his fingers on the wheel impatiently, Alec decided to improvise. He yanked the wheel and veered off the freeway, deciding to take city streets instead. Maybe, using Waze, he’d get lucky and make it to Claire’s on time. After how uncomfortable things had been lately, the last thing he wanted was to show up late on their first date in over a month.
Alec followed the suggested route on his phone, which would get him there with five minutes to spare. After a few sharp turns, the road dipped beneath a concrete-walled underpass. He stopped behind a few other cars at a red light, then started to call Claire with an update.
Before he could make the call, the light turned green. Just then, Alec spotted a bright yellow HumVee speeding his way in the opposite lane.
Shite, I’ve seen that car before. Suddenly, with a loud roar, it veered into his lane and came straight at him. He gasped in horror as the oncoming vehicle deliberately rammed into the left front end of his Mustang, sending Alec veering off the road and up the curb in an explosion of metal and glass.
There was a sickening crunch, then everything went silent. Pain stabbed at Alec’s chest, head, and spine. Warm wind blew across his face. Alec opened his eyes. As they slowly focused, he saw that his Mustang was smashed up against a traffic signal pole. The windshield was a spiderweb of cracks, and the side windows were blown out. Two people exited the HumVee and were heading toward him, hatred in their eyes. Rico and Javed.
They must have been following me, he thought groggily. How had he missed that? He’d figured Malcolm and his crew would be itching for payback after the warehouse debacle, and he’d spent the past week looking over his shoulder. He never thought that they’d try to kill him in broad daylight, though, with witnesses.
There were civilians all over the place. People who could get hurt if Rico and Javed started using their abilities.
Alec needed to draw the meatheads away from the road, and fast. But there was no way to extract the weapons from his trunk in time. He’d have to fight them hand-to-hand. Which would’ve been fine if the playing field were even. But his head pounded, his vision was still blurry, his hands were shaking, and sharp pain screamed in his back and ribs.
Alec could see spikes protruding again from Rico’s knuckles and a rhino-like horn splitting through the skin of his forehead as he angrily shoved a minivan out of his way. Strength like that wasn’t in Rico’s deck of powers. That meant both Fallen boys were likely hopped up on Turbo again—an old stash, or one rescued from the warehouse fire—and Alec didn’t have a chance at all.
Unless.
Painfully, Alec pulled himself over the gearshift toward his glove box, yanked it open, grabbed the vial of Turbo he’d confiscated, then clawed his way out of the car. Although injured, his powers came to his aid, helping him limp quickly up the nearby hill toward the top of the overpass, which was fenced in by concrete and chain link.
Slipping through a gap between the fence and the wall, Alec rounded the corner to discover what the overpass was hiding from the road: two sets of train tracks running across a wide, endless sea of small, sharp, gray stones. High, graffiti-covered walls towered above the area on both sides, preventing anyone from seeing what was happening by the tracks.
Alec hunched over, in so much pain he could hardly breathe. He could hear Rico’s footsteps as he stomped up the hillside behind him and squeezed through the fence. Alec had no choice: without the drug, he’d be dead in minutes.
Unscrewing the cap, Alec swallowed the vial’s contents. It tasted like blood, not surprisingly, but was more palatable than he’d expected it to be. Almost instantly, his heart started pounding, even faster than it had when he’d once injected himself full of adrenaline. Seconds later, his head stopped hurting and began to clear. Then the throbbing in his back and ribs began to ebb, and he could stand up straight again.
Before he could assess his condition further, Alec saw Javed burst into view. Javed stretched out his hands, sending blinding arcs of electricity through the air that knocked Alec straight to the ground, his clothes singed and smoking.
Suddenly, Rico’s bone-clawed hands grabbed Alec and hurled him into the air. Alec landed with a thud, faceup on top of the rails, the breath knocked out of him as sharp stones cut into his back. Before Alec could move, Rico was there again, planting one heavy foot on Alec’s chest, pinning him against the train tracks.
“No more running, asshole,” Rico barked.
Alec tried to get up but couldn’t. What good was the Turbo if he was stuck here like a pinned insect? A distant squeal signaled the approach of a train. Rico grinned.
Alec heard Javed chuckle behind him. Then he felt hands clamp onto his face before electricity jolted through his body again.
Alec’s teeth rattled in his jaw. Strangely, though, as the assault continued, the pain began fading away. Soon, he didn’t hurt anymore. Anywhere. Nor was he afraid. A warm current seemed to be building inside his body like a gathering storm, seeping into every muscle and vein. His strength and energy were returning—he could feel it—a sensation unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. Was the Turbo finally kicking in?
In their prior encounters, Alec had been playing nice with these guys, only hurting them just enough for that particular conflict to be over, everyone living to fight another day. But those days were over. He was angry, infuriated, that these two assholes had smashed his vintage car and destroyed his plans with Claire.
With a strength and speed that surprised even Alec himself, he brought both arms up sharply toward Rico’s knee, knocking his leg out of joint with sickening crack. Rico doubled over with pain as Javed raced toward them.
Alec jumped to his feet, grabbed the horn protruding from Rico’s forehead, and snapped it off with a jerk, causing Rico to howl in agony, then turned and stabbed the horn into Javed’s side. Javed roared in anguish and fell onto the tracks, writhing.
The train was coming closer. With a flick of his wrists, Alec telekinetically hurled Rico toward a nearby metal power pole, mangling it, then
lifted a cloud of stones with his mind and pelted them like hail at Rico, until the man finally fell limp and unconscious.
The train was only a hundred yards away now, blowing its horn for Javed to get clear. Kneeling down, Alec grabbed Javed by the collar. “The fire was an accident,” Alec hissed. “I’ve told no one. But you can’t just let it lie, can you?” Forcefully, he held Javed’s head on the tracks. “Well, this is how it ends,” Alec snarled.
“No,” Javed pleaded, his hands shaking as he tried to pull out of Alec’s grip. “Don’t …”
The train was almost on them. The horn blared louder, a sound mingled with the squeal of brakes. It was so close, Alec could smell diesel. He’d killed countless times before, it was part of his job. But it had never before felt so necessary. Or so righteous.
Then something in him clicked. What the hell am I doing?
At the last possible second, Alec pulled Javed out of the path of the oncoming train. They both fell onto the ground, breathing hard.
Alec pushed hair out of his eyes with a shaking hand. What did the Turbo do to me? It was more than a physical enhancement, he realized. It had messed with his mind. Made him downright feral.
He had to get out of here before he broke his vow to himself—to never kill again. “If either of you comes at me again, I’ll call in the full force of the Grigori on you and your boss,” he snapped in Javed’s ear.
“You … wouldn’t,” Javed croaked. “You’re … a wanted man.”
“I’d give myself up to send you all to hell.” It might have been an idle threat, but the edge in his voice sounded real enough. Javed’s bloodshot eyes were wide with fear, something Alec had never seen before.
Dropping Javed to the ground, Alec ran like hell for the road below. His car wasn’t going anywhere. He could see his shattered phone inside—unusable. Along with the ravaged flowers he’d gone to such lengths to acquire. He spent the next few minutes trying to find an open store with a phone. When he succeeded, he tried to call Claire, but discovered he couldn’t recall her number. He could usually remember everything. Had he actually forgotten? Had he suffered a concussion? Or was it because of the Turbo?
He arranged for a tow truck to haul his battered Mustang to a repair shop, then grabbed what was left of the bouquet he’d bought and rode westward in a cab, his head spinning, his blood so hot it felt like it was boiling.
What had the Turbo truly done to him? Alec was horrified by the sensation of rage that had accompanied all that power, how it had almost led him to murder. Staring at his tattered clothes and bloodied hands, he didn’t even recognize himself.
twenty-seven
Claire stared at Alec, hardly knowing what to say. They’d been sitting at the table for nearly an hour, all the food untouched, while Alec filled her in on everything that had happened over the past three weeks, up through the accident and fight downtown that had ruined their evening. The whole time he was talking, Alec stared at his clasped hands, or at some distant point across the rooftop, never raising his eyes to meet hers.
Claire felt terrible after hearing what Alec had gone through. She was horrified that he’d been attacked, worried about his injuries, and it broke her heart to learn that his beloved car had been so badly damaged. But even as she struggled to process all he’d revealed, she still couldn’t help feeling deeply hurt that he’d been lying to her for weeks over something this serious.
“So,” Claire said quietly, “all this time that you’ve been doing all this dangerous stuff … did you ever think to tell me about it?”
“Of course I did. Keeping this from you has been eating me up inside. I debated about telling you so many times. At first, I didn’t want to worry you. As time went on, I worried that if you knew, you might try to stop me. Or even worse, you’d insist on coming with me, and I couldn’t risk that.”
“Why not?”
He finally raised his eyes to hers. “Claire, I didn’t even know what I was dealing with until I got well into it. It’s been hard enough defending myself. I couldn’t have protected you as well.”
“What have all these self-defense lessons been for if I can’t even be trusted to hold my own?” Claire shot back at him.
“That’s so you can handle yourself in an emergency. You’ve had such a … how should I put it? A gung-ho attitude lately—”
“A what?” she bristled.
“I was concerned that our training sessions had given you a false sense of security. You’re doing well, but you’re still very new at this. It wasn’t my intention, but I ended up in life-or-death situations, Claire. I will never willingly put you in that kind of danger. You must know that.”
“Okay, but you still should have told me. If you’d explained that you’d be safer without me along, I would have understood.”
“Would you?”
“Yes!” Claire heaved a frustrated sigh. “You are such an idiot. If you’d given me a chance, I might have even been useful. I might have been able to foresee some of the dangers that lay ahead of you.”
“That power isn’t very reliable, though, is it? You never know what you’re going to see, past or future.” He folded his hands on the tabletop. “On the other hand, I can’t help wondering why you didn’t just brainwash me into telling you.”
“What?” Claire was offended that he’d even think such a thing. “I would never do that!”
His eyebrows rose. “How can I be sure? I’m not the only one who’s been withholding information the past few weeks.”
Claire hesitated. “What do you mean?”
“You brainwashed Zachariah. I doubt you could go from having no idea how your power works to successfully using mind control on a Grigori unless you’ve been practicing.”
Claire’s face reddened, but she didn’t reply.
“I noticed a few suspicious things before you messed with Zachariah’s mind, and since. Like the sudden about-face with Dr. Grant and the costumes. You played a part in that, didn’t you?”
“Okay,” Claire admitted, guilt and embarrassment raising her defenses, “so maybe I have used my powers a few times, but it was always to help somebody else.”
“And yet—to quote you—did you ever think to tell me about it?”
She bit her lip. “I wanted to, but things were so strained between us lately, I figured you’d be mad at me if you found out, and for no good reason.”
“No good reason? Claire—”
“Look, it’s not like I was doing it for my own personal benefit! What’s wrong with Jason finally asking Gabby out? What’s wrong with Señora Gutierrez exercising for the first time in her life?”
He paused. “If that’s what you’ve been up to … what’s wrong is that they didn’t do so of their own volition. You mentally manipulated them into it.”
“But if the outcome was positive—”
“It may seem positive at the moment, Claire, but you have no idea what the final outcome will be. Time will tell, but trust me: it may not be at all what you wished or intended.”
Claire sighed, frustrated. “What about Helena using her powers to see the future? Without her help, I would have been cougar chow months ago.”
“You can’t compare Helena’s abilities to yours.”
“Why not?”
“First off, Helena doesn’t violate people’s free will. She’s just relaying information that people can act on or not. Second, she’s a seasoned Grigori. You’re completely new at this. You don’t have the experience yet to judge when it’s necessary and appropriate to use your powers. Helena and I both warned you. Using a gift like mind control at all is dangerous—not just regarding the fate of others but for you as well.”
“Why is it dangerous for me? I don’t understand.”
“Think about it, Claire. It’s what Vincent was talking about months ago. The more of an expert you become, the more temp
ted the Fallen will be to abduct you, like they did your father, and force you to use that ability for their benefit. Either by drugging you, or by threatening to harm the people you love.”
“Oh.” Claire felt her arguments deflate, like the air going out of a balloon. No one had put it that way before. She swallowed, and reluctantly said, “Okay. I get it. I’ll stop experimenting. But if there’s ever another emergency, like the time Zachariah almost recognized you, I’ll use whatever ability seems necessary.”
“Understood. And the same goes for me. In an emergency situation, I have to act.”
“The stuff at the warehouse wasn’t an emergency,” Claire argued. “That was you willingly putting yourself in danger.”
“Someone had to do something. The Fallen are making a powerful and dangerous drug. What if it slips into human hands? The destructive possibilities are mind-boggling.”
“I thought the whole point of going AWOL was to leave that kind of stuff behind.”
“That is what I wanted, what I’d been dreaming about for decades. And I really thought if I could just live like a human, it would be a relief, and all that I needed …” He sighed. “But I can’t ignore all this bad stuff happening around us. I just can’t.”
Claire stared at him, worry brewing in her gut. “What does that mean? You can’t go back to the Grigori. They might execute you.”
“Maybe, aye. But I can keep my ear to the ground and help out where I can. I think I did something important. Hopefully, Rico and Javed will be out of commission for a while and will leave us both alone. And by interrupting their production of Turbo, I’ve made the city safer for everyone, at least for a while.”
Claire shook her head. “You can’t have it both ways, Alec. You can’t be a nice, normal high-school student by day and play Batman by night. And all this stuff you’re doing, you might have just pissed off Javed, Rico, and Malcolm even more.”
