Wade sensed movement. He was particularly gifted at tuning his mind in to the world around him, and he was nearly sure this was the general location where the second pulse he’d felt had come from. He turned in the direction of the sound and started moving, floating just above the ground. He saw someone dart between two tall firs in the distance and took chase, flying low and deflecting sagging branches as he went. He picked up speed and rounded the wide trunk of a tree, turning sharply. It was a blind corner, and coming to the other side, something or someone shoved him hard to the left. He tumbled wildly, crashed into a tree, and stood up.
“What the hell?” he said, standing and brushing himself off. He felt someone land behind him, felt the pulse in his bones.
“Whoever you are, you’d better run,” he said.
“You’re hopeless.”
Wade wheeled around and saw Clara leaning against a tree, looking about as smug as he’d ever seen her.
“Cavalry’s here,” she said.
Wade wanted to pick her up and throw her at the prison.
“I don’t need your help. Go back home,” he said, already assuming a position to leap up in the air and leave her behind.
“For starters, that block of rock down there isn’t home. I think we both know that. And second, Andre said you asked for help, so here I am.”
“Didn’t ask, don’t need,” he said. “Get lost.”
“Wait—you didn’t call for help?” Clara asked. She leaned away from the tree, took a step toward her brother.
“Hell no. Why would I need help searching a forest for signs of life?”
“Because it’s a big space and you’re one guy?” Clara mocked, but she was also processing the way Intels do: Why did Andre send me out here? Why does Wade want me to leave?
“You’re hoping she’s out here, aren’t you?” Clara asked. “You’re imagining that if Dylan is down there, then she must be up here. You’re even more pathetic than I thought.”
“I said get lost,” Wade warned. “There’s a whole lot of trouble out here for both of us. You want a fight, I’ll give you a real fight.”
He was referring to all the trees. The prison wasn’t safe for Wade and Clara just because it was isolated and secure; it was also devoid of nature. Their second-pulse weakness, the thing that could get them into real danger, was nature itself. Roots, trees, ivy, plants—these were the things that could weaken them, even kill them if they came in violent contact with too much.
“Are you challenging me to a brawl?” Clara asked. She would have loved nothing more than to uproot a tree and hit her brother across the face with it.
“I’m going to say this one more time,” Wade said. He was starting to feel the rage coming. If this went on for much longer, he’d go ballistic. “Get lost. I don’t need your help.”
Clara knew the tone of voice. Her brother was close to blowing his stack, and when that happened, all bets were off. It was a fight she might lose, and that was unacceptable. And what was Andre doing sending her out here in the first place? The Quinn clan was acting even weirder than normal.
“Good luck finding your girl,” she said, smiling derisively. “And if by some miracle that actually happens, make sure she stays away from Dylan. Unless you want her dead.”
Faith was hiding nearby, her bare arms touching the rough bark of the tree she leaned against. She’d heard the entire exchange and had a few thoughts of her own. It took all her willpower not to go after Clara and show her just how powerful Faith Daniels really was. She could beat Clara out here; she was sure of it. She’d put her chiseled face in the dirt, pin her under the branches of a tree, wrap a length of ivy around her sorry neck.
“Faith, I know you can hear me,” Clooger said as he pressed into the sound ring. “If you’re thinking about getting into some kind of confrontation, don’t. Dylan’s in there. He’ll have a hell of a time getting out if you go bat shit right now. It’s not time yet. Just stay calm, stay hidden, get here as fast as you can. And don’t pulse.”
Hawk looked at his partner’s bald head, then at the look of concern on his face.
“You think she’ll listen?” Hawk wondered.
Neither of them knew it was Wade and Clara out there. If they had known, the only sane course of action would have been to run.
“Who knows. Maybe.”
“She’s a little unpredictable, this girl,” Hawk observed. “But she’s no fool. And she’s not going to put us in danger unless she has to. Take it easy, big guy.”
For her part, Faith didn’t need the distraction of voices in her head unless one of them was Dylan. She wished he’d send word that the undercover plan—of which Faith had never been supportive—had failed. She wished he was calling for her to come on in: “Let’s finish these bastards off right here, right now.”
It was while she was thinking that precise thought that she heard a voice.
“You might as well come out. I know you’re there.”
Damn, Faith thought. Wade Quinn knew. He knew someone was hiding nearby, someone with a pulse. She could fly away, but what would that solve? She’d gone and blown their cover, and not with just anyone, with Wade.
This is bad.
She took a deep breath and stepped out from behind the tree, hoping the plan they had in place for just such an event would work.
“Faith?” Wade asked. He couldn’t believe his eyes and for an instant thought she might be a ghost or an aberration of his own mind. Could it really be Faith Daniels, all the way up here in the middle of nowhere?
He was also, despite whatever he was supposed to feel, happy to see her. The fight they’d had at Old Park Hill so many months ago swept across his mind. He’d thought, rightly so, that she might be dead. He hadn’t been the one to throw the object that slammed into the back of Faith’s head, but he’d seen it fly. He’d known it had hit its mark by the way Clara reacted. She knew when her aim was true.
“I know this looks bad,” Faith stammered. “But let me explain.”
Wade put up a hand and walked toward her, halving the space between them.
“I’m just glad you’re okay. I thought maybe, after that mess Dylan got you mixed up in back at Old Park Hill—I thought you might have been really hurt.”
“I was,” Faith said, feeling a little more thankful for Wade’s concern than seemed like a good idea. He was every bit the tall, striking person he’d been at Old Park Hill. If anything, he was even more attractive since the last time they’d seen each other. He was more muscular in the shoulders and arms, his face more chiseled despite a soft hue of three days without shaving. She had to admit she’d missed seeing him, not precisely because she liked him, more for the simple pleasure of gazing at a damn good-looking boy. “I didn’t wake up for a while.”
“How long?” He kept inching closer, which was making Faith nervous. If he tried to kill her, she’d have to reveal her second pulse; and that really wasn’t an option at this stage of the game.
“About two weeks, I guess. That’s what they tell me. I don’t remember exactly.”
“Well, I’m sorry,” Wade said, clenching his jaw. He ran a hand through his blond hair, looked off into the woods with those sky-blue eyes. “He should never have brought you into this. It’s not your problem.”
“Well, it is now. I guess,” Faith said. Stepping closer, trying to stay calm. “I owe him my life. Clara could have finished me off, but he protected me. It’s why I followed him out here.”
“Followed him from where?” Wade asked, the calculating, competitive part of his personality escaping for a moment. “No, wait—don’t answer that. I don’t need to know. In fact, it’s probably better I don’t know.”
Wade was close enough to touch Faith if he’d wanted to, and for the first time, he seemed genuinely vulnerable and confused.
“Why did he come here, Faith? Why did you come here?”
She hesitated, thought again about flying away, and then put out the bait she’d been told to if t
his situation came to pass.
“He left all upset about something I’m not supposed to even know about. It’s serious, also weird.”
“Weird how?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try me.”
Faith wavered. It was Meredith’s idea to tell Wade about Andre and Dylan, not Faith’s. In her opinion, if telling Wade was an option, it presented the best of all circumstances.
“Is he okay? Can you at least tell me that?”
“He’s a second pulse. It’s not like anyone in there can end him without a mountain of effort. Dylan can handle himself just fine. You need to stop worrying about him.”
Wade couldn’t stand the idea that Faith might still be with Dylan. It made him want to knock down some trees. This was exactly what Meredith had wanted—distractions.
“You can’t tell him I told you,” Faith said pleadingly. “And you can’t tell anyone else. He wants to handle this his own way.”
“Whatever it is, it’s not going to matter. You shouldn’t be wrapped up in any of this. It’s not your responsibility. I’ll make sure he’s fine, I promise.”
It was possibly the biggest lie Wade had ever told, since he was dead set on killing Dylan himself the first chance he got. But he was starting to imagine a life after whatever tasks they had to complete were over, and Faith represented something normal and attractive to him. She was tall and pretty, headstrong, smart. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her during all those long nights trapped in the prison, training for something he didn’t fully understand.
“I shouldn’t have come here,” Faith said. “It was a mistake.”
“No, it wasn’t,” Wade said. “I’m glad you’re here.”
He wanted to reach out to her, touch her soft skin, pick her up and fly somewhere no one could find them.
“You’re not going to believe it, but I think it’s true,” Faith said, drawing out the end like a long thread from a spool. “Meredith told Dylan who his dad is.”
“And this is important why?” Wade asked. He wished he could turn off the sarcasm in his voice, but it crept out just the same.
Faith hated it when he used that tone, always had. Go ahead, hit him with the hammer. He deserves it.
“Andre is Dylan’s dad. For real.”
Wade threw back his head and laughed out loud, because he was sure this was some kind of joke and she was about to get to the real information she was holding back. But looking at Faith, he knew at least one thing: she definitely thought it was true.
“Come on, Faith. That’s a little wild, don’t you think? My dad is Dylan’s dad? That doesn’t even make sense.”
Faith shrugged. “Whatever. I’m leaving.”
She began to float slowly up in the air, and Wade grabbed her by the hips and pulled her down.
“Don’t touch me!” she yelled. Wade backed off and held out his hands as if he were dealing with a cornered animal.
“I’m sorry, just—just don’t go.”
“And don’t treat me like I’m stupid. It’s true, Wade. Deal with it. Why else would Dylan desert the drifters camp? Why would he come here, uninvited, and basically give himself up? His mom has been lying to him his entire life. He’s looking for answers from his dad—your dad—and I’m scared for him. I’m afraid he’ll never come out of that place, not alive anyway.”
“I’ll make sure he does, I promise,” Wade said, a repeat of the same huge lie, because if Dylan really was his half brother, he was even more sure he had to get rid of him. The last thing in the world Wade Quinn needed was a brother to compete with. That was not happening, no way.
“Let me go back, check things out, see where we stand,” Wade said. “I won’t tell anyone you told me. I won’t say you’re out here. Just don’t leave, at least not yet.”
Faith half smiled and kicked the ground in front of her feet. She knew how important it was to sell this deception, but looking up once more, she felt an unexplainable attraction to the person standing before her. What insane gene in her DNA made it so hard to resist Wade’s pleading? She felt the worst kind of regret—in love with Dylan but drawn against her will to a guy who had lied to her, who was on the wrong side of whatever she was involved in. Why couldn’t you have looked like a troll and lived under a bridge and had the most horrible personality ever?
She took a deep breath and gave her answer: “I did bring provisions for a few days. And I raided a sporting goods store on the edge of town, so I have a sleeping bag. I like it out here. It’s peaceful.”
Wade agreed, it was peaceful. In four months of training they hadn’t let him out for so much as a walk in the woods. It made him angry. And looking at Faith, he wanted more than anything just to leave everything at the prison behind.
“Meet me right here, tomorrow night?” Wade asked. “That should give me time to recon this thing and give you a better idea of what’s going on. But no kidding, you need to stay out of this, Faith. It’s dangerous. And Clara can’t know you’re out here following Dylan around. If she gets a second chance, she’ll go straight for the kill. As far as she’s concerned, you’re the enemy.”
Faith’s smile, which had barely existed to begin with, vanished.
“I hate her.”
Wade felt his Tablet, which he had set to silent, buzz in his pocket. The situation he’d gotten himself into was risky. Clara could come back; anyone could show up. His Tablet GPS was live, and he hadn’t moved in five minutes.
“That situation at the games—” Wade said.
“You mean the hammer Clara put through my best friend’s head? That situation?”
She held out her bare arm so Wade could see the hammer and the chain and the ivy. And most of all, the C for Clara.
“Yeah, I mean that. I had nothing to do with it. She did that all on her own.”
Faith ran a hand through her long hair, pulling it back behind her ear. It was a nervous habit she didn’t even think about, and Wade saw the blue-and-green circle that matched her eyes.
“Cool earring.”
Faith took a step backward, wishing she’d been more careful. Had the unusual earring aroused suspicion?
But she needn’t have worried. Wade loved her hair and those delicate ears and the fact that she could look him almost in the eye because she was so tall. The tattoo worried him, but for Wade the earring was just jewelry, something he could compliment her on in order to win points.
“Don’t do anything crazy,” Wade said, taking a last look at the tattoo on her forearm. He’d known a lot of single pulses who thought they could take a punch. It was like a disease with them. They could move a car with their minds, but sometimes they couldn’t accept the fact that the very same car was solid enough to bash in their brains.
“Don’t ever forget you’re a single pulse. You could get killed just flying around for the fun of it. And you wouldn’t last five minutes with Clara. It’s not fair, but it’s true.”
Faith was becoming more controlled in the face of second-pulse bravado. It was getting easier to keep the secret. Her day was coming soon enough, and when it did, the payoff would be even better. She could imagine the looks on Wade’s and Clara’s faces when they finally knew: This girl is a second. She’s as powerful as we are. Hers was a secret that was getting better with time.
“I’m careful,” Faith said. “And I don’t have any interest in whatever crazy mess you’re caught in. I’m worried for Dylan, so I followed him. End of story.”
“Same place, an hour after dark, tomorrow,” Wade said.
He smiled that confident smile of his, a smile that had the unexpected power to confuse Faith’s emotions, and then he was gone.
“Well, that was weird,” Faith said. She wished she had Dylan’s jacket, because there was a chill in the air and it was a long walk back to the HumGee, where she’d left it. Then again, the jacket would have only set Wade off.
She started walking, pressed the sound ring.
; “Sorry about that, guys. Coast is clear now. We’re fine.”
“No one saw you?”
Faith hated to lie, but things were complicated enough without Clooger freaking out.
“All clear, no worries.”
“Don’t leave us hanging like that!” Clooger yelled. “I call, you answer. You can’t go AWOL, Faith. Not even for five minutes.”
“Sorry, I just . . .” What to say, what to say? “I thought there was someone out here, but I was wrong. I didn’t think a lot of chatter was a great idea while I was figuring it out.”
Silence, then a slightly chastened Clooger. “Fair enough. Get back here as quick as you can and we’ll regroup.”
“At least you’re efficient,” Hawk said. “Took you all of one day to nearly blow our cover. Impressive.”
“I’ll be there in fifteen if I keep moving; fix me some lunch?”
“Unwrapping you a protein bar now. Chocolate peanut butter. Yum.”
Faith made a sour face. She hated protein bars, but she was starting to love the walks in the woods. Wolves and skunks and Wade Quinns aside, it really was peaceful. Maybe someday she and Dylan would live on a mountain, have nine kids, and throw boulders at each other for fun. For some reason she thought of Wade, too. It had been more confusing seeing him than she’d expected, as if he were a magnet and she were steel and it would take some effort not to get pulled in, not to get hurt.
She belonged with Dylan, and as long as he stayed alive, that hadn’t changed just because Wade Quinn was back in the picture.
At least that’s what she told herself as she made her way back to the shelter of the HumGee, feeling the weight of all the lies that had piled up in such a short span of time.
Chapter 9
Trust Me, Grandma
Andre’s private office had previously belonged to the warden of the supermax prison. There were rows of old books, which Andre had taken to reading in the evenings. It was an interesting collection that skewed toward wars, criminal justice, and true crime. There was also a smattering of poetry, most of it obtuse and depressing. The warden’s taste in such things had run in the direction of Emily Dickinson and T. S. Eliot. The room had a long, wooden desk and file cabinets that had never been unlocked. A dim beam of light pushed through thick yellow glass high on one wall.
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