by Jena Leigh
Two seconds until impact.
Throwing out her arm in Li’s direction, Alex caught the flow and rocketed the water’s full force toward him.
One second.
The blast knocked Li off his feet and sent him flying backwards, just far enough to land out of the way. He collapsed at the feet of the young couple behind him.
The van blew through the open path Alex created and disappeared into the lines of traffic ahead.
The light turned green.
The cars paused at the intersection didn’t move.
A woman climbed out of a red sedan to check on Li. He had already pulled himself into a seated position and had his hand pressed against his chest as he drew a wheezy breath.
The blast had knocked the wind out of him.
Alex only hoped it hadn’t done more damage than that.
She stood on the curb beside the still-flowing hydrant and the very confused young mother. A part of her wanted to run to Li to make certain he was alright.
Her common sense, however, suggested that would be a very, very bad idea.
Alex backed away from the hydrant.
Bystanders were now glancing back and forth between Li and Alex, at a loss to explain what had happened.
She needed to get out of there before any of them started asking questions.
“Hey, Trouble!” Aiden was shouting from the truck, his head hanging out the driver side window. “Let’s go!”
He had pulled Norma Jean up to the corner of a side street, half-a-block back, where he’d be able to turn off the main road and—with any luck—get them the hell out of there.
Alex sent one last, panicked glance back at Li.
He was staring back at her, his expression inscrutable.
Crap.
“Alex!” called Aiden. “Snap out of it!”
She broke into a run.
“Wait!” Li shouted, then coughed. “Wait, come back!”
Alex wrenched open the passenger door and threw herself into the cab in the same instant that Aiden hit the gas and careened down the side street.
By the time Alex righted herself in the seat and tugged the door closed, they were around the corner and speeding back toward the waterfront.
“Shit, Alex!” Aiden was saying. Alex craned her neck to stare out the back window, worried that they might have been followed. “Shit! What did you just do? And how the hell did you do it? One second you’re sitting next to me, next second you’re a hundred feet away!”
The street was empty.
“I mean, Christ. Have you lost your damn mind? Are you trying to put yourself on the Agency’s radar?” After checking his mirrors to ensure they hadn’t been followed, Aiden slowed the truck to a more reasonable speed.
She winced. “We got away didn’t we?”
“Got away?” Aiden laughed. There wasn’t much humor in it. “You do realize there are CCTV and traffic cameras scattered all over this city, right? All it would take is one call to the cops and we’ll have an army of Agents breathing down our necks!”
Alex threw her hands up in frustration. “Well, it’s not like I could just sit there and let Li and that family—those kids—get killed! What did you want me to do? Just watch them die?”
Aiden growled in frustration. “I’m freaking surrounded by Johnny Do-Gooders, I swear to God. You and Nate are just alike, Alex. You’ll both risk your necks on a lost cause without even one thought for the potential consequences.”
Up ahead, a light turned red. As they rolled to a stop, Aiden looked at her sharply.
“Hang on,” he said. “Li.”
“What?”
“Li,” he repeated. “You called the guy Li.”
She turned her head and stared out the window, too nervous to meet his gaze.
“Son of a bitch,” he said. “The guy you just saved—you knew him.”
Alex bit the inside of her cheek.
“How?” he asked. “From where? Who is he, Alex?”
“I don’t… I don’t know,” she said. “I mean, not really. I only met him the day before I jumped to this time.”
“So he was alive in your future?” asked Aiden. “Because I’m pretty damn sure he would have been jelly on the pavement just now if you hadn’t intervened.”
Alex closed her eyes.
Aiden was right. If Alex hadn’t been there to save him, Li wouldn’t have lived to help her escape the Agency in the future. He wouldn’t even have lived long enough to send Aaron to Bay View.
She’d done something here in the past that had affected the future alright—she’d just ensured that it would all happen according to plan.
The thought caused her stomach to knot.
Was it really impossible to change anything, here in the past? Was she currently living out a series of events that had already happened?
“Maybe we should get you out of Seattle for a while,” Aiden mumbled. “If the Agency catches wind of what you just did, we’re going to be in for a world of shit.”
Alex stared out the window, glimpsing the Sound below them at every intersection as Aiden drove them from one side of the city to the other.
What had she just done?
Thirteen
“Man, I’ve missed this,” said Trent.
Declan gazed quizzically over a cheap pair of aviator sunglasses he’d bought from a gas station down the road.
When he jumped to the past, he had nothing but his pocketknife and twenty bucks in his wallet.
Thankfully, a quick detour to Trent’s apartment before jumping to Bay View had yielded two rolled up wads of cash—tip money Trent earned in the last six months tending bar. Trent agreed to bankroll their little operation provided Declan paid him back, in full, the second he was able.
The late afternoon rains had ceased, but the world outside their borrowed Civic had been transformed into an impromptu sauna. With the engine off, the temperature inside the car was in the nineties, even with the windows rolled down.
“You’ve missed stakeouts?” asked Declan.
“Stakeouts?” Trent pulled a face. “Is that what we’re calling this? And here I thought we were just indirectly stalking a fifteen-year-old girl.”
Declan rolled his eyes. “We’re not stalking Past Alex. We’re trying to locate my version of her, by checking out her usual haunts.”
“Right. Sorry. Got confused there for a second.” With a wry smile, Trent reached between the passenger seat and the door, tugging at the lever that reclined his seat. He laid back and placed his hands behind his head.
Declan ignored him.
“I was referring to the heat,” said Trent. He closed his eyes, basking in the muggy air. “This Cali boy has seriously missed the feel of warm weather. Spent too many long winters buried up to my ass in snow. I’d almost forgotten what a heat wave in October could feel like.”
“You’re kidding, right?” Declan went back to staring out the window. “It’s 90 degrees outside, with a hundred percent humidity. How can anyone miss that?”
The sun shone brightly upon the pools of water leftover from the sudden downpour.
They’d been fine traveling on foot for most of the afternoon, jumping to each destination as needed. They ticked off every location on the list until they were left only with Alex and Cil’s home in East Bay View. After the unexpected rain threatened to put an end to their outside surveillance, Declan used his ability to tap into the late model Civic’s electrical system and popped the locks.
The car, he knew, belonged to Alex’s neighbor—a salesman in his late forties who spent only a few days in any given month at home. The man enjoyed toying with the Civic’s engine on his occasional day off.
On the outside, it looked like just another run-of-the-mill, 2009, factory-model Honda Civic. Pop the hood, however, and you’d realize it was anything but.
Generally speaking, the car sat parked for weeks on end. Since the man’s other vehicle was nowhere to be found, Declan had rolled the dice and de
cided it was worth the risk. He jump-started the engine and parked the Civic on the street so they could keep a better eye on the house and remain dry in the process.
Trent stretched one arm up and over his head and rubbed tiredly at his eyes with the other. “So, what time did you say Past Alex would be let out of school?”
After a few thoroughly confusing conversations, they’d given both versions of Alex a name. Future Alex was his Alex. The one who was missing.
Declan checked the time on the dash. “Over an hour ago. I’m guessing she had plans after school. Maybe she’s out with her friend Cassie.”
“And when she finally gets home? Where to next?” asked Trent. “I assume you want to keep avoiding Past Alex, right?”
Declan nodded. He was worried about what being spotted by her now would do to their timeline.
Not a risk he was ready to take.
It was Declan’s hope that, if Alex had returned to Bay View in search of him, she’d start by checking out familiar places. So far, they’d paid visits to the Boardwalk and the beach, the disused dock that had once been her favorite hideaway, the training field and now, her home.
All empty.
After six straight hours of searching, he was running out of places to check. If Future Alex was here looking for him, then they were repeatedly missing each other.
And if she wasn’t here…
Well, he was trying hard not to think about that.
Declan mused over their next destination. “We might as well head back to the training field, now that the rain’s letting—”
“Is that her?” asked Trent.
Declan turned his attention back to the blue Victorian two-story. A huge, late model red Ford truck pulled into the driveway and parked in front of the house.
Past Alex climbed out of the front seat.
It was the first time they’d caught a glimpse of her and Declan wasn’t prepared for the way his chest tightened and his stomach dropped at her sudden appearance.
Truthfully, she didn’t look all that different from the Alex of his time. They were roughly the same height. The same shape. Her hair was only a few inches shorter. But there was something different about the way this Alex carried herself.
Something about her easy smile and laughing eyes that made Declan’s heart heavy and his brow furrow.
It took him a second to realize what it was.
The grin on Past Alex’s face was entirely genuine.
There was nothing forced about it.
Declan thought about the long line of painful moments that awaited her in the months and years to come. Moments that would steal that easy smile from her. Moments that would force her to learn how to imitate happiness and trot it out, regardless of what she really felt.
The smile, he now knew, was only a poor copy of the original.
Past Alex laughed, giving a mock salute to the driver before hopping down onto the cement drive. Blowing the truck’s occupant a kiss, she closed the passenger door and made her way toward her front porch.
“She’s cute,” Trent observed offhand, after giving her a cursory glance. When Declan turned to look at him, Trent had already switched his focus to something just down the street.
Declan didn’t reply. Instead, he returned to his study of Past Alex as she moved around the front of the truck.
Not waiting until she went inside the house, the driver of the truck backed out and drove off back toward the main drag. Declan managed to catch a glimpse of who was behind the wheel.
Connor Talbot. Alex’s ex.
Well, Future Alex’s ex, anyway.
In this time, they were obviously still together.
He scowled as he watched Connor turn the truck off Alex’s street and disappear around a corner.
“Is that normal?” asked Trent, bemused. “Cause I’m leanin’ toward, ‘no.’”
The hair on Declan’s arms stood at attention as a chill rippled across the back of his neck. It took him longer than it should have to realize Trent had expanded the range of his ability to include them both.
They could still see each other just fine, even though anyone else looking inside the Civic right now would glimpse nothing but an empty car. But why had Trent bothered to make them invisible in the first place?
Scanning the rest of the street, Declan quickly realized what it was that had seemed so strange to his friend: they were no longer the only car parked outside Alex’s home.
A man was sitting in the front seat of a dilapidated Crown Vic, camera in hand, snapping photos of the house—and of Alex as she unlocked her front door and stepped inside.
“Definitely not normal,” said Declan, angrily. He pulled the door handle and made to get out.
“Whoa there, killer.” Trent grabbed him by the elbow before he could push the door fully open. “Be smart about this. You confront him now, he’ll just drive off before you can get anything out of him. I say we follow him for a bit and see what he’s up to.”
With no small amount of reluctance, Declan closed the door.
“Who do you think he is?” asked Trent. “Some sort of private Dick? Sure as hell not with the Agency, driving around in that getup.”
“No,” agreed Declan. “Definitely not an agent. Although they do hire out their surveillance jobs from time to time.”
“When they’re checking kids for abilities?” asked Trent.
Since the creation of the Agency’s catalog of known Variants years earlier, it had become standard procedure to visit any child with a Variant lineage to find out if they inherited an ability. Once the investigation ended, a profile was created and entered into the catalog.
“Yeah. But that can’t be what this is about,” said Declan. “This Alex is only 15. Those ability checks aren’t done until your 18th birthday rolls around. They don’t have a reason to check on her for another three years.”
“Alright,” said Trent. “Not the Agency, then. So who else would have had reason to stick a tail on Past Alex?”
Declan shook his head. “I can only think of one name.”
The Crown Vic made a U-turn and headed back down the road. Declan sent a surge of electricity toward the Civic’s engine and kickstarted the car. He wasn’t about to let this guy out of his sight.
Their search for Future Alex had just been put on hold. He needed to know what sort of information this guy was after.
And he really needed to find out who hired him.
“Well?” asked Trent. “What’s the name?”
As Declan pulled out into traffic, trying to keep a reasonable distance between their now stolen car and the Crown Vic, his fingers tightened around the steering wheel.
Samuel Masterson moved through the sleek, window-lined halls of the Agency’s R&D site in Seattle, gazing into a reflection that wasn’t his own.
Night fell hours earlier, leaving the world encased in darkness and causing the bright hallway lights to bounce off the glass. The shining surface mirrored his own reflection.
He’d spent nearly three-and-a-half years staring at that same angular visage, but he still couldn’t quite shake the unsettling sensation that came from finding the wrong face looking back at him.
He paused in the empty hallway and summoned his host’s natural ability, his face shifting painfully into a new—much more pleasing—form.
Samuel’s own aquiline nose and bright blue eyes stared back at him for the briefest of moments… until his strength gave out and Edward Li’s Asian features immediately replaced them.
Swallowing his frustration, he continued his trek toward the parking lot.
Millions of Variants in the world, and he’d had to find himself trapped inside the most useless one ever created. His host was barely a half-step above human on the evolutionary ladder.
It was disgusting.
This form is simply a means to an end, he reminded himself.
Somewhere in the depths of his borrowed brain, the rightful owner of his body protested angrily at the su
ggestion.
Samuel sighed.
Edward was persistent, if nothing else. After years of watching on helplessly as Samuel impersonated him, he really ought to have resigned himself to his fate.
Besides. It was the man’s own fault that he’d become a prisoner of his mind—a fact Samuel was keen to remind him of at least once a day.
The man had been careless. And for that dire mistake, he had paid the price.
And paid, and paid, and then kept on paying, said Edward, tiredly.
Samuel ignored him, reinforcing the barrier between his own thoughts and those of his host, as he recalled the winding series of events that had led them both to this point.
Truth be told, his host wasn’t the only one who had been careless.
Samuel thought back to that afternoon in the crosswalk and of the van that had barreled toward him.
Of himself, frozen like the proverbial deer in the headlights, unable to react fast enough to save himself from oncoming disaster.
Had he been in his own body and facing down such a threat, he would have had nothing to worry about.
The thought prompted him to once again curse the utter failure of his latest field trial.
The VX-2 still wasn’t ready.
Recreating his original formula was simple enough. Altering it to work on a broader cross-section of Variant DNA, however, wasn’t quite as easy.
As it stood now, the VX-2 serum would only work on the small percentage of Variants who already possessed a certain, necessary genetic marker.
A genetic marker that his host Edward—rather infuriatingly—did not have.
If Samuel ever wanted to make his host’s body powerful enough to assist him in reclaiming his own body from the depths of the Green Woods facility in Virginia, then he was going to have to find a way to make the VX-2 work on all Variants and not just a select few.
Hence the need for experimentation.
He thought of the night before. Of the spectacular failure of his latest batch of serum.
Of the girl’s sweet face in the instant before it began to melt away from her bones, the skin and musculature dissolving into a bubbly liquid there on the floor of the alleyway.
