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Hidden Darkness

Page 4

by May, W. J.


  The problem that worried them all was that this wasn’t an agency-sanctioned mission. They had no team, there was no official plan. All they knew was they had to get to each of the hybrids on the list before Cromfield did, but after that…?

  They hadn’t quite worked it out yet.

  When they finally pulled into the little town, the afternoon sun was high in the sky, shining down unforgivingly as they scuttled under the eaves to what looked to be the hotel. Armed with her new tatù, curtesy of the future Queen of England, Rae headed up to the front desk and secured them three rooms before getting directions to the local elementary school. Apparently, most Bolivian schools still had another two weeks before letting out for the summer, and if the child was as young as Julian said, he would most likely still be there at this time of day.

  “What’re we going to do if we find Cromfield?” Molly asked quietly as they made their way down the street to the school.

  It was an obvious question each of them had deliberately avoided asking, but now that the moment had come upon them, something had to be said. The problem? This obvious question begged question of its own: Cromfield was a man with two non-violent tatùs. How the hell had he managed to capture, subdue, and kill over a hundred powerful hybrids with tatùs of their own?

  It didn’t add up. It didn’t make sense. And it sent chills of fear down Rae’s spine. Down all their spines.

  They were missing some key component. Something critical that had turned Cromfield from a crazed lunatic to an actual serial killer. And until they knew that that thing was, they were going to have to try to avoid him at all costs.

  Not an easy feat, considering they were the uninvited guests on his international road trip.

  “If we see him, you all run.” Rae glanced at Molly’s doubtful face and patted her reassuringly on the back. “In the meantime, we’ll just try to blend in…”

  Molly glanced down at their sweltering black spy gear and gulped. “Blend in. Sure…”

  They weren’t nearly as inconspicuous as any of them would have liked, but the locals were friendly enough, smiling, but generally ignoring them as they made their way down the street to the school.

  The bell had just rung, releasing the kids for the day, and the four friends watched silently as a swarm of them poured out onto the grass as they made their way home.

  “That’s him,” Julian said suddenly as they stared through the chain-link fence. He pointed to a little boy with a mop of brown curls leapfrogging across the jungle gym.

  Rae’s breath caught in her chest. Julian was right. He couldn’t have been any older than seven. His sparkling eyes and rosy cheeks reminded her of those little porcelain statues of cherubim that stores started selling around Christmas. When his tinkling laugh rang out suddenly across the grass, her eyes welled with unwanted tears and her fingers wrapped around the fence.

  This kid was innocent. Blameless.

  And somehow—on Cromfield’s list.

  All because he was like her. Innocent, and marked a victim.

  As the swarm of kids marched past the fence, the boy paused curiously, as did the rest of the students, gazing up at the four strangers in their strange clothes. Judging by the whispers and looks of open astonishment, their little village must not get visitors very often. Nonetheless, the boy skipped trustingly forward when Rae smiled and waved to him.

  “Hola,” she said with forced cheerfulness, looking him up and down, “Estás Matti Padron?”

  “Sí,” he answered excitedly, bouncing from foot to foot, clearly pleased with all the attention. “I speak English,” he continued with a faint note of pride.

  Are we that obvious?

  Rae grinned encouragingly. “Matti, my name’s Rae and these are my friends.” The three of them waved awkwardly behind her. “We came all the way from England to talk to you and your parents. Do you think we could walk you home?”

  With the unquestioning obedience of a child, Matti nodded and waved them on, slipping his hand automatically into Rae’s as they crossed the street. She smiled to herself and gave it a little squeeze as a whole flood of conflicting emotions came welling up inside her.

  How trusting he was. How sweet!

  How easy it would be for Cromfield to make off with him.

  Matti lived with his parents in a tiny house on the edge of town. After Devon quickly checked the perimeter, and Julian just as quickly checked the future for any immediate problems, the four of them knocked on the door, with the child standing front and center.

  It was difficult to say who looked more surprised—the mother or the father.

  “Can I help you?” Mrs. Padron asked nervously in broken English, her eyes widening as she stared at the four strangers surrounding her son. The next second, she snapped her fingers, and the boy ran to her side, wedging himself in between his parents with a grin.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Padron?” Rae asked cautiously, keeping her distance so as not to alarm them any further.

  The couple shared a bewildered glance before the man nodded. “Yes?”

  Great, Rae thought to herself, now what?

  Should she just lift up her shirt, show them her ink, and ask if she could come inside?

  Surprisingly enough, it was Molly who stepped suddenly forward. She eyed Mr. Padron curiously before slowly extending her hand. After a moment’s hesitation, he leaned forward to shake it. But before he could, a bunch of sparks came flying out from her fingertips, and he jumped back.

  “Molly!” Rae reprimanded, elbowing her furiously in the side.

  But Mr. Padron was staring at her as if gazing at his own reflection. A strange look came over his face, and, the next second, a shower of sparks shot from his hand as well.

  “I knew it.” Molly smiled. “It’s very nice to meet you both.”

  Mrs. Padron gaped at her before turning her attention back to Rae. “You can…you can do what we can do?” She sounded absolutely shocked, but there was something else in her voice, too.

  Excitement.

  For whatever reason, the words sent a feeling of deep relief radiating through Rae’s entire body, and she flashed a genuine smile. “Yes, we can.”

  Then her eyes fell on Matti, who was still grinning excitedly up at Molly like he was hoping for more sparks.

  “But there’s more,” she said hesitantly, almost unwilling to continue. “We came here to talk to you about your son. He’s in danger.”

  * * *

  “So this man…he’s coming here?”

  Matti had been sent outside to play in the garden, and a plate of cookies sat untouched on the kitchen table before the four of them and Matti’s parents.

  “Yes,” Rae said quietly, “he’s coming here.”

  The Padrons shared a quick look before gazing out the window at their son. The father asked, “And you know this for sure?”

  Rae nodded gently, her heart breaking for them. “My friend,” she gestured to Julian, “can see the future. He saw the man was on his way. He wants your son. Matti’s name is on his list.”

  She realized she was unconsciously avoiding saying Cromfield’s name, as if saying it might bring him here sooner. Throughout the entire story, the Padrons had listened curiously, not realizing how it all connected to them. But now that they’d come to the end, a chill had fallen over the sunny little kitchen.

  All was quiet for a moment before Mr. Padron suddenly slammed his hands down on the table, sending a spray of sparks flying into the air. “Let him come! Theresa and I aren’t afraid. We can protect our son.”

  Rae bowed her head. She understood the sentiment entirely. But facts were facts. If Cromfield was to come here, the Padrons wouldn’t stand a chance. And neither would Matti.

  “Mr. Padron,” Devon began peaceably, “I know exactly how you feel.” His eyes flickered to Rae, and she felt herself blush. “I promise you, there’s nothing I would rather do than tear the man from limb from limb,” he took a breath to steady himself, “but that’s simply not possi
ble. Until we know how he’s doing what he’s doing, the best thing you can do to protect your family is hide.”

  “Hide?!” Mr. Padron’s eyes flashed. “This is my son we’re talking about. How can you expect us to—”

  A scream echoed in the little kitchen as Rae suddenly caught on fire.

  The Padrons shouted and jumped back, while Molly rolled her eyes and muttered something that sounded like, ‘show-off.’

  Outside, little Matti ran to the window and stared in open-mouthed amazement. Rae stood there for a second, letting the message sink in, before dousing the flames.

  “That’s what I can do.” She stared Mr. Padron intently in the eyes. “And I’m hiding from him.”

  A few hours later, the four friends were heading back down the street to the hotel. They had planned to leave much sooner, but Mrs. Padron had insisted on feeding them dinner while her husband hastily packed their bags. As impressed as she’d been with their little performance, she said they were still kids themselves and she couldn’t, in good conscience, let them walk away hungry.

  As per Rae’s instructions, the little family was leaving the village that night. As of yet, they weren’t sure where they were going to go; they would simply head to the bus station and decide when they got there. Julian had tried to explain it as best he could. Make split-second decisions. Try to avoid making plans. The more fluid everything was, the harder time Cromfield would have tracking them.

  Unfortunately, the same rules applied to the four of them.

  “Well, if we weren’t on Cromfield’s radar before, we definitely are now,” Molly murmured as they pushed open the door to the hotel and headed through the lobby to the lounge. It was dimly-lit and they were apparently the only visitors in town, so the four of them settled into a corner booth and talked without fear of being overheard.

  Julian’s face tightened as he traced his fingers in a groove on the table. “I think I’m already on his radar.”

  Devon head shot up in alarm. “What do you mean? There’s no way he can know if you’re watching him, Jules. It doesn’t work like that.”

  Julian nodded distractedly but turned with sudden interest to Molly. “How did you know that Mr. Padron had your same tatù?”

  Rae leaned forward curiously. She had been wondering the same thing.

  Molly answered with a little shrug. “I could just…tell. I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s like we had some kind of connection. I noticed the same thing with Noah when I was mentoring him back at school.” She glanced up at Rae. “Have you ever had something like that? I mean, you have so many abilities…”

  Rae frowned as she considered it. “I’m not sure. Not really, but maybe that’s just because, while I might be sharing other people’s tatùs, no one I know has mine. Maybe it would be different if I met another mimic.” She shook her head. “I might have felt it with Kraigan. Not at first, but maybe I did. I don’t know.”

  “Why do you ask?” Devon asked Julian sharply. “Are you saying that—”

  “I’m not saying anything,” Julian said quickly, pushing to his feet. He ran his hands through his long hair before securing it in its customary ponytail. “I’m going up to bed. I need to try to get another vision as to where we should go next.” He sighed, sounded older than his years. “Goodnight, you guys.”

  “Goodnight,” Molly called back to him, and Devon nodded, but Rae watched him go with a frown.

  “Do you think…we should be letting him do that anymore?” she asked warily.

  Devon sighed. “No. I don’t. But I also don’t see what choice we have.” Molly and Rae glanced at him curiously and he shook his head, looking abruptly tired. “Can you imagine what might have happened if we’d taken the time to go through the government channels to find Matti?”

  Rae shuddered as she watched her friend climb the stairs into the dark.

  No. She didn’t want to imagine that for one second.

  Chapter 4

  Purgatory.

  Rae had never given it much thought, the concept of being trapped in torturous limbo for some undetermined amount of time. It wasn’t an idea she’d been raised with, and she could honesty say that it had probably never crossed her mind.

  Well, it sure as hell did now.

  “Just look at the list again,” Devon said with increasingly strained patience. “Look at it again, and really focus this time, Julian.”

  Julian slapped his hands down on the table and pushed back his chair. “Look at the list again? Why not?” He shook his head. “Only because I’ve been staring at the damn thing for the last, oh, I don’t know, six hours.”

  “Guys, this isn’t—” Rae tried to interject.

  “I know you’re frustrated, but you need to try to focus!” Devon looked like Carter as his finger tapped against the list.

  “Focus? What the hell do you think I’ve been doing this whole time?” Julian’s voice rose as he stood. “You think I’ve been singing in my head?! I’m trying to focus, Dev, I just—”

  Devon raised his voice to match Julian’s. “Then try harder.” He forced himself to calm down but did not lower his tone. “Come on, Jules, you’re better than this. I know you are; you know you are. Now you need to stop making excuses and get it together—”

  “Excuses?!” Julian shoved a pile of bloody tissues across the table. “You think I’ve been making excuses? You think these are excuses?”

  “You know that’s not what I meant. I know you’re trying. I’m as frustrated as you. We need to figure this out.”

  Rae folded her arms on the table and dropped her head down with a miserable plop. She’d been positioned in the middle of the two of them like a referee for the last hour. But so far, all they’d managed to do was get each other very, very angry. She’d tried to do what Julian was doing, but her time with his ability was limited. She hadn’t developed his tatù nearly as far as he had. She didn’t have the skill yet. “Guys, shouting isn’t going to help anything! You both need to calm down.”

  It was like she hadn’t even spoken.

  “I think those are evidence of a six-hour failure, and we both know you’re better than that, Julian! Now, I don’t know what else to try with you. I’ve been patient, I’ve been supportive—”

  Julian’s eyebrows shot up. “This is supportive? Well, thanks, mate, I never knew you had it in you.” He shot Rae a sarcastic look. “What the hell must it be like to date him? I’m sorry, Rae. I didn’t realize what you must go through day to day.”

  She put her fingers to her temples. “Why don’t you both take a break for a minute? Walk it off or something.”

  “Don’t make this about Rae,” Devon growled. “Just leave her out of it.”

  “I’m trying to make a point—”

  “THAT’S ENOUGH!” Rae shouted. “STOP IT!”

  Both boys stared at her in shock as she suddenly pushed to her feet. Across the lounge, a nine-hundred-year-old bartender glanced up from his reading, but she was pretty sure he neither understood nor cared what was going on.

  “Don’t you get it?” she demanded, finally pushed past her limit. “This isn’t about either one of you. One of these people,” she slammed her hand down on the list of hybrids, “is going to die unless we pull together as a team to stop it. Now, maybe that doesn’t mean much to either one of you. Maybe you’d just like to keep fighting here like a couple of idiots, but it means something to me. Maybe because I’m the one who’s going to have to live with the outcome forever!” She tossed back her dark hair and glared at each one of them in turn, taking grim satisfaction as they cowered like little school boys in the shadow of her rage.

  “Julian, please. Keep trying. Do whatever it takes. And Devon,” she added quickly as he turned to his friend with a smirk, “leave him alone. You can see he’s trying; he’s bleeding all over the table for Pete’s sake. Give him some space.”

  Julian returned Devon’s smirk with one of his own, and, with a murmured, “Yes, ma’am,” they headed
their separate ways. When they had both vanished, and Rae stood alone at the table, she turned again to the bartender. He was watching her now with something close to respect.

  “Men, you know?”

  He blinked, clearly lost on the entire conversation the three of them had just had.

  Upstairs, Molly was still asleep. The heavy weight of the list had settled on each of the four friends in turn, stressing them past the brink and forcing them to cope in their own, unique ways. Molly, for example, had developed the sleeping habits of a depressed house cat.

  “Hey,” Molly mumbled sleepily as Rae slipped inside. “The boys still yelling at each other downstairs?”

  “Yep,” Rae answered, staring at her reflection in the mirror and pinching her cheeks to get a little color back into them. She looked as pale as a ghost.

  “Julian hasn’t seen anything yet?”

  Rae sighed. “Nope. And, at this rate, I’m not sure if he will. This Cromfield thing is completely undermining his confidence. You know, I’m almost at the point where I think that we should just head to the next place, start warning people as quickly as we can. Not that I don’t have confidence in Julian, but he’s working himself to the bone—more like to the blood—trying to pick this horrible man’s brain apart. It isn’t healthy, and it’s not bloody working. I don’t know, maybe on a basic level we should just…? Molls…?” She turned around to see her friend snoring loudly beneath the comforter. Her face fell as she bit her lip and turned back around. “Right.”

  Taking care to keep quiet, she gathered her purse and tied her long hair back in a ponytail before heading into the hall, locking the door behind her. While it might feel miserable in her weather-inappropriate clothes, the Bolivian climate was doing amazing things for her hair—curling it naturally in a way that she and Molly would take hours to stop back in London. She flicked a stray lock off her forehead and headed to the stairs.

  Devon was also on his way down.

 

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