Edge of Sanity: An Edge Novel

by Shannon K. Butcher

  “There’s no one I’d rather see than you, Leigh. Including Mira.” It was as close to a confession of love as he would let himself get.

  “I know you don’t trust me, but I need you to let me do this. I promise I’ve taken every precaution possible. Mira checked my plan to make sure I didn’t miss anything. You trust her, don’t you?”

  Clay cupped her face in his hands, holding her so that she had no choice but to look into his eyes. “I trust you more than anyone else on the planet. I know that’s not saying much, but it’s true. I should have told you everything before. I should have told you that every time I see a gun pointed at me, I lose it. Maybe if I’d told you that before, I could have saved you a whole pile of pain.”

  Tears pooled in her eyes. “That means a lot, Clay. You have no idea how much. I only hope you feel the same way after today.”

  Her tone set off warning sirens in his head. “What does that mean?”

  She stepped back and pulled a syringe from her purse. He expected her to come at him with it, but instead, she jabbed it into her arm and shoved the plunger.

  A sick sense of panic flooded him. “What are you doing?” he demanded.

  Her eyes had gone a bit glassy, and her head seemed loose on her neck. His wounded body was still slow and clumsy, but he managed to grab her arms to keep her from falling.

  She looked up at him with apology shining in her gaze. “I saw seven blue trout swimming in the river today.”

  Something in Clay snapped. He felt himself slipping away in a buzzing haze. Part of him went to sleep, but the rest of him was wide awake and waiting for instructions.

  * * *

  Clay stood in front of Leigh, staring blankly at her. There was no emotion on his face—no rage or fear, just simple acceptance.

  His trigger phrase had made him a blank slate—a puppet for her use.

  Leigh struggled to stay awake. She’d gone through a test run of this before but hadn’t taken into account just how much the lingering effects of the sedative Payton insisted on would slow her down.

  “Those words I just said will never again affect you. Instead, you have a new trigger phrase, which I will give you in a minute. Do you understand?”

  size="-1" face="Times Ten LT Std Roman">Clay nodded.

  “Also, from now on, when you see a gun aimed at you, it will no longer bother you—not like it did before. You are in control of your own actions. You decide what to do and when. No one else can ever make you do anything you don’t want to do. You are in complete control.”

  A wave of sleepiness crashed into her. She had to hurry before she could no longer speak.

  “I’m going to whisper some words in your ear now. No other words can ever bring you to this state. Do you understand?”

  Again, he nodded.

  Leigh went up on her tiptoes and started whispering random words. She kept her voice too low to be overheard by any microphones that might be in the room. She didn’t know if anyone was listening, but she refused to give anyone a weapon to use against him.

  After five minutes of stringing together nonsensical words and medical terms most people had never heard of, she started to slip into sleep. Unconsciousness was only seconds away, and she had to finish this.

  “That’s it,” she told him. “No other words will ever work. You’re free now. You can wake up.”

  She felt him come to attention in a split second, catching her as she collapsed.

  * * *

  Adam wasn’t usually sentimental, but in this case, he made an exception. The blood- and water-stained envelope that Sage had given him crinkled now that it was dry. He should have burned it now that he’d committed the information to memory, but he found he couldn’t part with this tangible link to his brother.

  He pulled the single sheet of paper from it and smoothed it over his thigh. The name Sage had written there was smeared and watery but still completely legible.

  Eli was alive and well, living under a name given to him by his adoptive parents. Sage had supplied the new name, along with an address and Eli’s place of employment: the Edge.

  It truly was a small world.

  Now all Adam had to do was approach his brother—find a way to slip into his life and see whether Eli held any memories of their brief time together. The fact that getting closer to Eli also meant getting closer to Mira sent a wild thrill sliding through him.

  He wanted to see her again, not that the feeling would be mutual.

  No—sweet, innocent Mira would not soon forgive him for tricking her, drugging her, abducting her, and shooting a man she loved. The one searing look of contempt she’d shot him before being airlifted to safety was enough to tell him to keep his distance.

  If Eli had been working anywhere else, perhaps Adam would have had the self-control to stay away. But wherever Eli went, Adam would follow. Mira was just going to have to find a way to deal.

  Adam folded the paper up and tuper up acked it away for safekeeping. Then he picked up the phone and made the call that would put him in arm’s reach of Eli.

  And Mira.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  It was his love that woke her.

  Leigh opened her eyes, recognizing the bright light of her own bedroom and the feel of Clay’s hands on her skin. He stroked her face and hair, and in every gentle sweep of his hand, she could feel his love for her.

  He smiled down at her, his amber eyes bright with hope. “There you are. I was starting to worry you’d never wake up.”

  “How long was I asleep?”

  “Most of a day. Mira said that was to be expected—that I didn’t need to freak out.”

  “Mira?”

  “Payton talked to her on the phone. She told him what you did. It worked,” he whispered, as if saying the words too loud would ruin everything.

  Leigh blinked up at him, confusion muddling her thoughts. “What worked?”

  “Your plan. Mira told Payton everything when he found out what you’d done. She told him how she’d found some of Sage’s research in those files we copied, and how to reset the trigger phrases, along with the names and last known addresses for the people that Sage had mind-fucked. That’s what he’d been looking for—more people like me he could use. Apparently, he’d lost the data somewhere along the way and wasn’t able to remember the names of the kids he’d screwed up.”

  Details began to filter back to her, coalescing slowly into something that made sense. “I went to see you. I . . .”

  “You injected yourself with that anesthetic—the one Mira said screws with your short-term memory.”

  “It must have worked, because I don’t remember a thing.”

  “That was dangerous,” said Clay.

  “I didn’t have a choice. Mira said her dad’s research indicated that there had to be a control phrase—that not having one could leave some kind of bizarre void that could cause problems—but I knew that if anyone had that phrase, you’d still be at risk. The only way I could think to protect you was to make myself forget.”

  “So no one could torture it out of you,” he guessed.

  She nodded. “After all we’ve been through in the past few weeks, I had considered the possibility. This is some pretty messed-up stuff we’re dealing with.”

  His expression darkened with a promise of violence. “There are others out there like me. Payton asked me to help track them down.”

  “So you’re not going back to prison? That means our planP worked.”

  He gave a darkly amused grunt. “It worked, all right. Payton tested me. He tried to trigger me with the phrase Sage had used—the one Sage whispered in your ear when you went into that barn. Payton also pointed a shitload of weapons at me—even fired a couple so close I could feel the heat of the bullets. None of it gave me that buzzing kind of haze that told me I was about to go darkside.”

  “So . . . you’re free?” she asked, daring to hope.

  He gave her a slow nod. “I’m myself again. No one controls me.
And the fact that I know I won’t be going around hurting people means that maybe there can be some forgiveness for me.”

  “Of course you can be forgiven. I knew that wasn’t you—not the real you.”

  “I guess I needed to know it, too.”

  He needed to forgive himself and let go of the guilt. Leigh understood that and was going to be by his side, encouraging him the whole way. Whatever it took. She would be his example. Her sole focus would be seeing Clay and Garrett well again.

  “I want to go back and help Garrett,” she told him. “If it worked on you . . .”

  “Mira told me she found his trigger phrase and is keeping it safe—not even Payton knows she has it. Payton said that as soon as you’re recovered, you can go back and see if your solution works on your brother, too.”

  “It will,” she said, feeling the hope of certainty spreading out through her on silver wings.

  “But you’re not going anywhere right away,” he said. “Whatever shit you pumped yourself full of can’t be good for you. You need to rest and recuperate for a few days.”

  He was right. The dangers of drugging herself again so soon were too high, and she knew Garrett well enough to know he’d want her to wait another day or two. She didn’t trust anyone else enough to do the job right—except Clay, and he’d already been through enough.

  No, saving her brother from his nightmare was going to be her job alone. And her joy. He’d spend Christmas this year as a free man.

  “I suppose I can wait a little while,” she said.

  Clay gave her a wicked smile. “I have a few ideas on how to make the time pass quickly.”

  Her body heated in instant response, growing soft and languid at just the thought of what he’d do. Even bandaged and wearing a cast, Clay had more power over her than any other man she’d known. It was an unfair advantage, but one she reveled in.

  “Does this mean you’re going to stick around for a while?” She’d meant the question to be light and teasing, but it came out different, quivering with insecurity and hope.

  All signs of humor faded from his face. He moved over her, holding his body above hers on the bed. His gaze slid over her cheeks and mouth, coming to rest on her eyes. “I plan on finding a way to fit into your life, Leigh—wherever you’llever you have me. I’m not too proud to admit that I need you. Through this whole mess, you’ve been my rock, giving me something to hold on to so I didn’t go over the edge. I can’t let go of you yet.”

  “I don’t want you to let go.” Not ever.

  She didn’t say the last part for fear she’d scare him away. What they had was so new and fragile, she hardly dared to breathe too hard.

  “That’s good. I worried that after everything—all the danger and bullets . . . after my complete lack of trust in you—that I’d blown my one chance to be with the woman I love.”

  “Love?”

  His eyes crinkled at the corners with a smile. “Yeah. And damn if it doesn’t feel good to say it. I love you, Leigh.”

  He kissed her, cutting off whatever response she might have made. His mouth ignited feelings in her that she’d never thought to feel for any man. It was more than merely physical—though heaven knew it was that, too—it ran deeper, all the way to her soul.

  She sensed his kiss had been timed as a sort of rescue—a way to keep her from feeling pressured to say anything back. But it was one rescue she didn’t need.

  Leigh pulled her mouth from his. “I love you, too.”

  His whole demeanor changed. She saw a flash of insecurity evaporate, and in its place was something hot and beautiful. He seemed to grow bigger, stronger, as if her words had the power to change him.

  Maybe they did. She certainly felt different knowing that he loved her. She felt safe for the first time in years. Whatever problems came their way, they no longer had the power to scare her. She was free to live her life on her own terms. And the life she wanted was with Clay.

  * * *

  Payton met General Robert Norwood at a private airstrip outside of town on Christmas Eve. It was cold and dark, but both of those things worked in their favor. Bob had been insistent that no one know about their meeting, and when Bob insisted, Payton listened.

  “It’s good news,” said Bob as he huddled against the wind. His chopper had taken off. The car picking him up to take him to see his daughter would doubtlessly be here soon.

  “I could use some of that.”

  “Based on recent events, and pulling in every favor I’ve ever earned, I was able to get approval for this.” He handed Payton a folder.

  Payton scanned the documents, barely able to believe what he’d read. “You’re hiring the Edge?”

  Bob nodded. “It’s all off the books—something I’ve been working on for months—but we finally have everything we need to find the people we hurt and try to make it right. All we lack is manpower.”

  “You can’t send your own men?”

  “Not for this. I’ll retain some oversight.”

  “Meaning?”

  “One man. He’ll go to work for Bella, but he’ll report back to me. I’ll let you know who I choose within the week.”

  Payton tried not to get his hopes up too high. “I don’t know if Bella will go for it or not.”

  “Then don’t tell her. Just hire him. I don’t care what it takes. You have no idea what this cost me. Don’t fuck it up.”

  “No, of course not. I’ll do what I must. Any chance we have to fix things is worth whatever I have to do.”

  “Good, because there’s one more thing—a string I couldn’t find a way to cut.”

  “What?”

  “You’re not going to like it any more than I do, but it’s nonnegotiable.”

  “Just spit it out.”

  “You have to hire Adam Brink, too.”

  Payton had thought it was cold outside until the chill inside his body made the wind feel positively tropical. “Absolutely not. He can’t be trusted.”

  “I never said you had to trust him. But you do have to hire him.”

  “Why?”

  Bob looked away, scanning the horizon. “Because he scares powerful people. They want him watched. He came asking for this to happen, so it’s going to happen, and while it does, you’re going to keep your eyes fixed on him. Got it?”

  “I’ll do what I can,” said Payton.

  “This is going to be our only shot at making things right. After this, my gun is empty. I’ve done everything I can.”

  The way he said it made Payton wonder exactly what this miracle had cost Bob. For years they’d worked, scrambling for whatever resources they could manage to find. This opportunity opened up doors neither of them had had keys to before.

  It gave them the power to find the people they’d hurt and take down those who wer

  e still doing the hurting.

  Dr. Sage survived his wounds. No one but Payton and a handful of others knew that. Nor did they need to know. Sage had spilled his guts about his research and the names of those he’d had killed, in case Clay ever needed to know for the sake of closure. But the really useful information had come from Sage’s brief encounters with Norma Stynger. Apparently she was the one with all the power. Sage was dangerous, but by comparison, he was a stinging ant. Stynger was a rabid velociraptor. They had to find some way to take her down, and this could be their only chance.

  “Thanks, Bob. I’ll do everything I can to make your sacrifice worth the cost. I swear it.”

  “I know you will. That’s why I was willing to take the risk. You’ve kept my baby girl safe for years. I owe you at least the chance t the chao make up for what we did.”

  There would be no forgiveness for men like Payton and Bob, but at least now they had an opportunity for repentance. And revenge.

  * * *

  Read on for an excerpt from

  Shannon K. Butcher’s next Sentinel Wars novel,

  Falling Blind

  Coming from Signet in April 2013

&n
bsp; * * *

  Kansas City, Missouri, October 29

  There was not enough brain bleach in the world to scrub away the things Rory Rainey had seen. Her visions were getting worse, and if she didn’t find the person who could make them stop, she was going to go batshit crazy.

  As frequently as the mental images were slamming into her lately, that inevitable insanity wasn’t far away.

  Rory kept her head down and her gaze firmly on the sidewalk in front of her. While her eyes saw only dirt and concrete dimly lit by streetlights, her mind saw much, much more. A riot of TV shows and video screens blazed in her head, one image superimposed upon the next until it was all merely a blobby glow of color and light. Nearby someone was staring down at a newborn baby. Someone else was reading a book, but there was too much visual chaos in Rory’s head to make out the words. Brief glimpses of the same nearby sections of street fired in her mind, repeating over and over as the few people still out at that late hour drove by. As she moved down the street, she got close enough to a couple having sex in one of the surrounding buildings to catch what they were seeing. The man was all fleshy and sweating, his face red with effort. The harnesses and implements twisting the woman into a vaguely pretzel-like shape made Rory speed her pace until that sight faded.

  Ugh. Not enough brain bleach in the world.

  She was in a bad part of town that had been hit hard by the recession. The streets were lined with abandoned storefronts and condemned buildings. It was late and cold, and there was little foot traffic as she made her way to the homeless shelter she often visited. She didn’t need the shelter—she had her own home. Nana’s home. But that shelter was one of the places where she’d noticed that the visions receded.

  Little, fleeting moments of peace had come to her there. What she saw was real and hers alone, making it quiet and oh, so precious. At first she’d thought she was getting better, that the space between mental barrages was getting longer. But then she left the shelter and the visions were there, waiting for her.