by C. C. Bolick
“It wasn’t his apartment. He left a trail so I could find it, but I haven’t figured out why. I don’t want him considered a traitor by this agency until I find proof.”
“You never told anyone about your power?”
He looked down at me. “Tyler told me he loved a girl once. When she found out about his powers, she ran the other way.”
I reached for his hand. “I know about your powers. Now I also know you’re part alien. Do I look like I’m running?”
“You will,” he said. “When you find out what I’m really like inside, you’ll race to the nearest exit.”
“Do you always need proof to believe?”
“If people tell you they believe something without proof, they’re lying.”
“Always the agent.” I squeezed his hand and stood. “I’m not going anywhere.”
His eyes dropped to my lips. Travis closed the distance between us, stopping within an inch of my face. The only sound was his breathing since my lungs no longer seemed to work. For a moment, I thought he might kiss me. Hoped, despite the fact his skin would burn mine. I could take the pain if his kiss meant releasing the emotions coiled inside of me.
“We need something,” I whispered.
“What?” he choked.
It took every ounce of willpower to step away from Travis Payne. I walked to the kitchen and sorted through the shelves of his cabinets.
He followed into the kitchen. “What are you looking for?”
“Do you actually cook?”
“I get tired of the restaurants and leaving the base to eat out. Sometimes I make simple food like a PB&J or those bags of noodles.”
I shoved aside a pack of noodles and some canned pasta. “I used to eat these all the time. Now that I don’t have to cook anymore, I enjoy eating at whatever restaurant sounds good. Unless Dr. Greene’s wife is cooking dinner.”
“You’ll get tired of the restaurants. What are you looking for?”
A long cardboard box caught my eye. I pushed the aluminum foil out of the way and excitement rushed through me as I reached for the shorter box.
“Plastic wrap?” he asked. “What are you going to do with that?”
I stretched the wrap and tore off a section as long as my arm. Spinning around, I held the thin layer of plastic in front of my face. “I want to show you how I feel, so you’ll have your proof.”
He eyed the plastic with a look of surprise and then… hunger. “Are you sure about this?”
“It’s just a kiss.”
“Just… a kiss. As if you’ve done this many times before.”
I smiled. “Like you, I’ve never really trusted people. At school I only worried about how to get my scholarship and a one-way ticket out of that town. Do you think I ever considered a ten-year reunion?”
“Probably not.” He took shallow breaths as I moved closer. “At least you got to attend a normal school.”
“Nothing about my life has been normal. We lived in a camper while Dad hid from the government. And my mom… she took her secrets to the grave.”
“If she’s really dead.”
I moved even closer. “I can’t control that part of my life right now. All I can control is this. Us.”
His voice shook. “You’re crazy if you think this is control.” He leaned closer and gently touched his lips to mine through the plastic.
I froze at the strange sensation. It wasn’t soft, moist skin touching mine, but I felt the warmth of his body through the plastic. I heard the moan behind his lips and knew the pounding of his heart matched mine. He gripped my hands where they held the plastic.
Travis was the first to step back and take a breath. “Where did you get this idea?”
“From a TV show.”
“I thought you only watched reruns of MacGyver and the A-Team. This wasn’t in any of those episodes.”
I shrugged. “MacGyver was always improvising. I’m sure there are lots of ways he could use plastic wrap.”
“Could we try that again?”
Grinning, I held up the plastic and pressed my lips against his. This time he kissed me as if he wasn’t afraid of burning my skin. His fingers dug into my shoulders. I leaned into Travis and wrapped one of my arms around his waist.
* * * * *
An hour later, we stood on the ledge of a high-rise in New York City. I slid off my jacket and draped it over a concrete wall. Travis pointed below to where cars crawled along the street.
We stood outside of the same apartment Travis brought me to six weeks ago. Behind us the windows were covered with heavy curtains—the kind that hid secrets well. No doubt Travis had a good reason for bringing me here again. However, I didn’t want to leave the view of sunshine and white puffy clouds that drifted lazily above us.
“Did you find out something new about this place?”
Travis stared up at the sky. “No one has stepped foot in this apartment in years except for me. I thought you might want to take a tour. Maybe help me look for clues.”
“I’d love to help.”
He pulled a key from his pocket and opened the door. Even though we were far above anyone who could see us, he still glanced over his shoulders as if we might be under some kind of surveillance.
“Are you sure the agency doesn’t know about this place?”
Travis slid the door open and waved me inside. “Hurry.” With a finger to his lips, he closed the door behind us. The room was dark except for Travis’s phone, which he held in one hand as he checked the door frame with the other. After checking all sides, Travis flicked a hand and a light came on above. “No one has entered through this door.”
I thought of the night we stayed at the hotel. I’d fixed the door to make sure no one could enter without my knowledge. Maybe Travis and I were more alike than I imagined.
“You could have teleported us inside,” I said. “And if you could, so could others.”
“If they had my power. I’m more worried about the people who can’t teleport in.”
The living room looked like it belonged to someone who enjoyed watching TV. There was a fancy leather wrap-around couch that probably cost more than our camper. The TV covered most of one wall. The other walls held paintings—oil paintings on closer inspection. Through a doorway to my left was an entertainment room with even more electronics. From every window hung the same thick black curtains.
A folded newspaper sat on the kitchen counter from twelve years ago. Three plates sat on the table with silverware to the right side. The dishwasher was full of dishes, all of which looked clean. I didn’t risk opening the fridge.
The beds in each of the three bedrooms were made. The first room was decorated in a plain style like Dad’s room, with a navy-blue comforter and carpet. The second had apple-red walls and was filled with toy cars and fire trucks. The third room was a pale pink with shelves that held dolls and ponies.
It was all normal kids’ stuff. Normal toys for a normal life. There was no evidence of alien technology or even a hint of a crime committed inside these walls.
But there was also no mail, documents, or anything that could prove who lived here.
“Have you tried looking for fingerprints?” I asked. “Or DNA?”
Travis stopped in the kitchen and lifted the paper. “I’ve done checks under the radar. The techs at the agency thought they were processing evidence from a crime scene. I guess you could consider this a crime scene.”
“No trace of who lived here?”
“No trace of anyone at all. Not a strand of hair or any fingernails. This place was wiped clean of all remnants of the owners. No human technology could erase the past so thoroughly.”
“What about the deed or the bills?”
“All paid from a trust. I’ve researched every name associated with the trust but nothing shows a red flag.”
I smiled. “I wish I could have helped. Thanks for trusting me with your secret.”
He walked toward me and I circled the island to meet him ha
lfway. My shoe caught on the transition from tile to carpet and I stumbled forward. My arms flailed and I reached for his hand, but I grabbed his wrist instead. Two of my fingers slid above his glove and touched the bare skin of his arm.
It was an honest mistake. In no way had I tried to touch him on purpose.
I yelped and snatched my hand back. He grabbed my arms below the shoulders and kept me from hitting the floor. Travis pulled me back to my feet and examined my hand.
“I’m sorry,” I said. My red skin felt like I’d touched fire. A welt began to rise on each of my fingers.
“Why are you sorry?” he asked, releasing my hand. “I knew that would happen eventually. It’s my fault not yours.”
“I wasn’t trying to touch you. Maybe I wanted to before, but I know why you stopped me.” I shook my hand. “Do you think there’s any ice in that freezer?”
“I can take you back to the base and use the re-generator wand.”
“That’s not necessary.”
His phone buzzed and Travis checked a message. The remorse disappeared from his face. He watched the screen for an eternity before sliding the phone in his pocket. He put a hand on my arm.
“What are you doing?”
“Taking you back to the base.”
“I’m fine.”
His fingers dug into my arm. Unlike when we kissed, this pressure angered me. “Don’t argue with me. You need a doctor.”
The force of his words felt like he’d slapped me. Before I could respond, he teleported us to the med-level.
A nurse approached. “Is everything okay?”
“She’s hurt,” Travis said. “Get the re-generator wand.”
No please. No thanks for asking. Travis spouted orders like he sat in Sylvia’s chair. The way the nurse watched him with a mixture of resentment and fear made my stomach churn.
Within moments, the nurse returned with a doctor in a white coat and the wand in her hand.
“Twice in one day, Miss Mason,” the doctor said. “Looks like you’re keeping us in business down here.”
Travis reached for my hand with barely a nod to the doctor. No time to find a room with privacy; instead he held the tip of the wand to my fingers and pressed a button. The end lit up and a burst of light flashed through the room. The light disappeared and my fingers showed no sign of a burn.
The doctor took the wand. “Anything else, Agent Payne?”
“Keep her here for observation. She’s had a tough day.”
I swung around. “Observation?”
The doctor exchanged a glance with the nurse. “Prepare a room,” he said.
“You’re leaving me here?” I asked.
Travis pulled me away and lowered his voice. “I need to leave the base to take care of something.”
“What?”
“It’s none of the agency’s business.”
“You’re scaring me.”
He looked over my palms. “You’ll be fine. Can you stay out of trouble while I’m gone?”
I nodded and Travis disappeared.
* * * * *
It took half an hour to convince the doctor that observation was overkill. After my release, I promised to take the elevator straight to my floor and spend the rest of the afternoon in my room relaxing.
As if that was possible.
When the elevator doors closed, I chose the floor with Angel’s office. She wasn’t there; mostly she claimed to hate that floor, but Skip was in his office.
Thankfully, his door was open and I walked in without knocking. “I need to find Angel. It’s important.”
He didn’t look up from his laptop. “So is this presentation for our new doctors. They’ll be here tomorrow.”
“Travis left the base and I’m worried about him.”
“You? Worried?” Skip looked up. “That’s not funny.”
“I’m serious. Travis left the base on a secret mission. I think it’s personal.”
He cut his eyes back to the screen. “Agent Payne has a lot of personal issues but he can take care of himself.”
“He said he had to take care of something that was none of the agency’s business.”
Skip’s fingers froze on the keyboard. “That’s not a good sign.” He reached for his phone and typed a text. A moment later, the phone buzzed and he checked the screen. “Found Angel, but I’m not sure you want to go there. I wouldn’t.”
“Where is she?”
“The isolation floor.”
Chapter Seven
When the elevator doors opened on the isolation floor, Skip didn’t move. I stepped out and looked down the long hall in both directions. White walls stretched before me. The air felt cold and smelled of a different kind of sterile than the med-level.
A nurse in white walked by without a word. No ‘hello, should you be here?,’ which made me wonder if I should. Her feet padded along the tiled floor without a sound, which made me think of a horror movie.
I glanced back to where Skip stood inside the elevator. Down the hall to my right, I made out Angel’s outline. I walked toward her, past the doors to each room. Cell was a better word. Each cell had a window next to the door and inside some were people in white suits. The isolation floor made me think of a mental hospital I’d seen on TV.
Reddish-brown hair fell down Angel’s back in smooth waves. On most days, she kept her hair tied in a ponytail. Today she looked like a mighty force with her agent suit and black jacket falling to her knees.
Angel stood at one of the windows, staring inside the cell. Inside, Hannah lay across a bed with her arms over her chest.
Some part of me hated to break the silence. “Is she…”
“She’s sedated,” Angel said without looking away.
“Why is she here?”
“This is Sylvia reminding all of us who’s in charge.”
“Did Hannah do something to Sylvia?”
“They argued. Sylvia told Hannah to stay away from you. Hannah told Sylvia you’ll be her undoing and insinuated the destruction of this agency.”
“Can Hannah see the future?”
“Not that I know of. Believe it or not, Sylvia and Hannah were once friends.”
“I feel sorry for her locked in a cell.”
“Don’t ever feel sorry for Hannah,” Angel said. “She’d use you for her agenda in a heartbeat, just like Sylvia would.”
“It’s my fault they were fighting.”
Angel turned to me. “No, it’s my fault. I never should have introduced you to Hannah. I knew what she was and that she can’t be trusted. It wasn’t fair of me to bring you into an argument between them.”
“How long have they argued?”
“For years. The previous director pressured Hannah to use her power in the worst ways. Since Sylvia took the director’s chair, Hannah has questioned her ability to run the agency without exploiting people with powers.”
“Dad said people with powers that can’t be controlled are locked up here.”
“You don’t want to get on that list. I can tell you from experience.”
“They locked you up?”
“Months ago, but I haven’t given them a reason since.”
I shivered. “Do you think they’ll lock me up?”
“I’m not sure locking you up would help. Although these walls can contain my powers, they won’t stop a nuclear bomb. Keep that in mind.”
Her words echoed in my head. The agency couldn’t stop a nuclear bomb. They could contain Angel’s powers but not mine. Which meant if they ever found a desperate need to contain me…
Skip stopped at Angel’s other side. “I can’t see how you stay here. After what they did to you…” He lowered his voice. “This floor gives me nightmares.”
“My memory isn’t perfect like yours,” she said. “But I haven’t forgotten.”
“I’ve located Travis’s car,” he said. “He’s parked next to a restaurant downtown.”
Through the glass, Hannah seemed at peace. Where her mi
nd was, no one could harm her. And she couldn’t cause any more drama for the agency. Maybe this was the best solution for now.
Angel put an arm around my neck. “Are you sure you’re okay? You scared a lot of people this morning.”
I thought of my fear at the conference room. “But not you?”
“With my healing power, I’d probably survive your nuclear meltdown. I was thinking of Skip.”
“Sure you were,” he said.
“Are there any issues with you leaving the base?” Angel asked. “I don’t know if I could control you in the event of a meltdown.”
No issues unless she counted Dad telling me not to leave the base. She didn’t have to know about that. “My power got out of control when I felt fear over Senator McCall. He and Travis argued; I realized that the senator has ultimate power around here and there’s nothing I could do to stop him.”
“Except blow us all up,” Skip said.
“It was the wrong reaction,” I said. “I won’t let my fear get out of control again.”
Angel guided me in the direction of the elevator. “What was Travis doing before he left?”
I couldn’t tell them about the apartment. “I touched his skin.”
“Ouch,” she said. “On purpose?”
“It was an accident, but he insisted on taking me to the med-level for treatment. Then he got a message on his phone and couldn’t leave the base fast enough.”
Skip hit the elevator button and kept pressing until the doors opened. “As soon as this elevator cooperates, we’ll hit the road.”
* * * * *
Skip drove the SUV through the downtown streets of Atlanta. Despite the thick traffic and people constantly hitting their brakes, he didn’t need to go into power-mode to get us there. Instead of fighting for a parking spot on the street, he opted for a parking deck near the restaurant.
As we hurried along the sidewalk, rain began to fall. I noticed Travis’s Ferrari in a small parking lot near a restaurant with dark windows. The only thing I could make out was the flashing ‘open’ sign.
“Guess the parts for his car came in,” I said.
