“She could be, but we’ll check both buildings.” Six jerked his head at Holden, Nate, and Trent. “You three check the guest house, and me and Lia will go into the main house.”
Holden opened his mouth to protest but swallowed it. Lia was far more formidable than he was, and they needed an even distribution of capable humans. When it came down to it, they’d primarily brought Holden along due to his ability to influence people with his talent. Hopefully it didn’t come to that point.
“Be careful,” Six said, directing it at all of them but staring at Holden. “I’ll be pissed if you wind up locked in the silo.”
“You and me both.”
Holden started to turn to scuttle deeper into the shadows with Nate and Trent, but Six yanked him back for a quick kiss. The energy between them crackled, and Holden felt Six’s worry. It’d been so long since anyone had shown true concern for him that he was momentarily at a loss. A search for a witty comment came up empty. Trent rolled his eyes and jerked his shoulder.
“Let’s go.”
Six nodded and turned away. He and Lia moved together toward the porch and threw themselves over the railing like sleek athletic shadows.
“Let’s go,” Trent repeated with a note of impatience. “Be moony later.”
“I’m not being moony.”
Trent didn’t respond. Nate had already begun slinking toward the guest house. It was a smaller version of the main, but had less ornamentation and fewer staff members around. There was a guard posted in the front and another standing below the porch steps, but that was it. Six had implied the staff at the Farm were largely unmotivated by their jobs and had no real desire to be isolated in upstate New York, and that seemed to hold true even now. From what Holden saw, the were no additional reinforcements around and nobody seemed particularly tense.
“I don’t think anyone saw us coming—psychically or otherwise,” Holden said. “But we still need to be careful and not be seen.”
“Right,” Nate said. “It’s too early to get into a back-and-forth with one of them.”
“Or to knock someone’s head off,” Trent added.
Nodding in agreement, Holden scanned the vicinity. “There’s a back door leading into the kitchen and two staircases—one going to the attic and the other to the basement. I know this because I used to sneak around looking for booze when I came here as a teen.” He jerked his chin toward the yard behind the guest house. “If there’s a guard back there too . . .”
“I can try to scale the side,” Nate said. “I’m limber.”
“I don’t know . . .”
“Trust me,” Trent said. “He is.”
Holden didn’t know whether to despise Trent and his deadpan sense of humor at extremely inappropriate times, or to be charmed. No wonder Nate had so ardently resisted Holden last summer.
“No one at the back,” Trent said seconds later. “Do you feel anything?”
Nate shook his head, and Holden did the same.
“Stay here,” he told Nate. “And try to project some kind of warning if anyone sees you or comes into the house.”
“Holden, my empath abilities are still not . . .”
“They’re good enough for this. You can do it. I know you can.”
Nate was still frowning as he sunk to his knees and disappeared behind the shrubs lining the guest house. Trent lingered before scurrying behind Holden into the back of the house. It was larger than it looked on the outside, but Holden had remembered that from infrequent visits in his youth. The unfocused footprints of his childhood allowed him to take the lead, and guide Trent through a darkened kitchen large enough to cook for a restaurant and through a half hallway serving as a china cabinet. It was untouched, just like it had been years ago, polished enough for moonlight to reflect off the dishes but arranged in a way that would make it cumbersome for anyone to try to use them. Was this all for show? The entire place?
The bottom floor was absent of life except for a woman curled up in a rocking chair in one of the sitting rooms. Holden hadn’t noticed her at first, and it was Trent who’d nudged him. Everything from her hair to her eyes had the appearance of having been bleached of color, but she was eerily beautiful and of indistinguishable age. Something about her was familiar, though. Holden stared, frowning, for so long that she turned her head and met his gaze.
Trent stiffened, swearing under his breath, but she didn’t do anything else. It was like she didn’t actually see them at all.
“Move,” Trent hissed. “Before she wakes up from that fog.”
Holden didn’t have to be told twice. They crept up the stairs with painstaking slowness, and found the master bedroom locked but completely silent. Holden reached out with his gift, and sensed no one on the other side of the door.
The rest of the floor was just as empty as down below. There were two closed doors, but nobody was in the room Holden had once stayed in, and the other bedroom was inhabited by sleeping children who strongly resembled the woman in the rocking chair. Both spaces were large with wood paneling and lots of soft fabrics draping from the windows and covering the beds, but everything was light colored and reeked of a weird perfume.
“Odd,” Trent muttered. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
They met up with Nate outside, texted Six and Lia that they were moving on, and made the same slow, silent trip to the cottage. The structure was nearer to the silo than the main and guest houses. Six and Lia were already there, but there was no sign of Holden’s mother.
Hunkering down behind the rusted shell of a pickup truck, Holden leaned in. “Did you see Elijah?”
“No. He wouldn’t have been there.” Six’s eyes glittered as he flashed them around the vicinity. “I don’t understand why they moved her,” he whispered. “Never in all my time here have they kept someone as high profile as her in the cottage.”
“Maybe something changed,” Lia murmured. “They seem to be getting more paranoid and prone to make stupid-ass decisions if we go by the fact that Richard is no longer above throwing his own son under the bus. Putting Mrs. Payne into a cell could be one more example of that.”
Six just kept frowning up at the cottage. It was three levels, made of stucco, and had bars outside the windows. They resembled the white painted security bars you’re likely to see on a house in the city rather than a prison, but they still had an ominous quality and contrasted greatly with the opulent decor in the other two buildings.
“She sounded erratic when I spoke to her last,” Holden said. “And when we were hanging up, it got more intense. She was frantic to shut me up before I could discuss the situation at Evolution.”
Six’s frown deepened, but he didn’t ask for details. “Let’s split up and go inside. There’s more security here.”
Holden didn’t move. He thought about the night they’d confronted Beck, and the way she’d mind controlled Trent into turning on him. It was only a matter of time before they were spotted, and the likelihood of one or more of them being turned into puppets the way Trent had been . . . It made Holden’s skin crawl and his stomach churn.
“Six, can you try to extend your shield?” Everyone looked at Holden like he’d lost his mind, including Six, but he persisted. “It’s not just about cover of darkness. If someone sees or senses us, we’re done and everyone will be on high alert.”
“I don’t know how to do that. It’s not possible.”
“It is. You’ve done it to me when we’re . . .” Holden glanced at the others, his face heating. Strange how, in the past, he’d talked about sucking dick within days of meeting Nate but referencing the intimacy between him and Six made him antsy. “You’ve done it before. Just visualize your shield as if it’s a physical object, and then think about it expanding. If you can encompass all of us, that’s another layer of protection while we’re in the cottage.”
“It won’t help in the silo,” he pointed out. “We’ll have to split up, and it’s larger.”
“I know, but because it’s
larger, I’m hoping there will be a less concentrated group of guards.”
“Good point.” Six didn’t look sold on being able to use his own shield as protection for the full group, but he jerked his head in a short nod. “I’ll give it a shot.”
Trent shook his head, likely still thinking this was again starting to resemble a comic book plot. Holden ignored him and covered one of Six’s hands with his own. He hoped the strength of their connection would allow Six to spread his invulnerability to the rest of the group.
At first, nothing happened, but then Six’s eyes opened wider and Holden saw the psy-kid glow Six had mentioned weeks ago. The glitter brightened the darkness of his eyes, and for a fragment of a second they were as gray as Nate’s. It was the most beautiful thing Holden had ever seen, that silvery sheen, before the blanket of protection swept over him. The glow disappeared, but it was replaced by the net of safety. One glance at Lia, Nate, and Trent made it plain they felt the calm force of his power.
Six eased out of his crouch and pulled Holden up with him.
“Let’s go.”
They found her in a bedroom that reeked of flowers.
Everything was soft and floral and scented enough for Holden’s head to spin as he knelt by his mother’s bedside and shook her.
“Mother,” he hissed. “Wake up.”
There was movement beneath her eyelids and a slight pucker in her brow, but she didn’t stir other than that. She was thinner than when he’d last seen her, as if parts of her had faded away until she was vulnerable and small. He feared a harder touch would hurt her fragile body, so he gently shook her again. There was no response.
“What should I do?” he demanded, glancing up at Trent. They’d followed the same plan from the guest house—instructing Nate to wait outside as the rest of them explored the house. “She’s not waking up.”
“Do some psychic shit,” Trent advised, peering into the hallway. “Tickle her with mental fingers or whatever.”
“That’s not how empathy works.”
“Then pour some water on her face, man. Come on. Get with it.”
Holden glared at his back before doing a quick scan of the room. It was like a doll’s house with barred windows. Not Jessica Payne’s style at all. She wasn’t one to wrap herself in silks and satins, but she also wasn’t one to sleep this deep. In the past, she’d woken up at the slightest creak of a footfall on the stairway. Sneaking out had been impossible. Now she was dead to the world. He’d actually checked her pulse to ensure she was alive.
The vibrating of his phone signaled a text message from Nate.
We have Elijah. Hurry.
Damn it.
Holden grabbed a half-drunk glass of water sitting next to a pill organizer by her bedside, hesitated only briefly, and then followed Trent’s advice. She shot up from bed panting and spluttering with dark hair plastered to her forehead.
“Holden,” she slurred, looking at him with eyes that were huge and distant. “What are you doing?”
“I’m getting you out of here.”
Holden put his arm around her shoulders and guided her out of bed. He braced for a struggle but instead felt her clinging to his arm as she kicked at the sheets and blankets that had twisted around her feet. He took her black nail polish as a good sign. Parts of her personality were still battling through their attempts to wipe her slate clean. That was made even more apparent when she violently kicked off the blanket and stumbled out of the bed, only to droop in a puddle of a heavy wool nightgown like an extra from Little House on the Prairie. Trent hurried over and slid his hand under her other arm.
“Can you walk?”
“The guards,” she said, looking around blearily. “Did you kill them?”
Trent did a double take, and Holden could only stare. Part of him had continued to downplay her role in Ex-Comm, but there was no room for that any longer. The woman that had secretly allowed him to stay up watching romantic comedies while they discussed troublesome men and the irritations of love, who’d been a spitfire, sharp teeth beneath pink lipstick and sleek dresses, was apparently capable of killing. Or at least wanting it to be done. She wasn’t just his mother. She was the leader of some anti-Community faction, even if she was currently clawing her way to consciousness with great gasping breaths.
He wondered if their brainwashing had ever worked on her, or if it was just drugs that had kept her docile on the phone that day.
“No, Mother, we didn’t kill them,” he whispered. “So we need to go.”
“Yes, let’s go.” She stepped into a pair of slippers and clung to his arm. “He’s coming soon.”
“Who?”
“Your father.” Jessica shook her head, tawny hair going everywhere. When she stopped, her gaze was clearer, as if she’d spun herself the rest of the way out of a waking dream. “He hasn’t been here in a while, and will visit us as soon as he arrives.”
“Who’s ‘us’?” Holden hissed. “You and Chase?”
“No. Me and the other women.”
Trent’s mouth pulled to the side in a grimace, but he only urged, “We need to move.”
They made their way down the dark hallway, only ducking out of sight twice before rejoining the others outside. While encased in the protective shield of Six’s mind, it was easier than ever to pinpoint his location inside the barn. Holden had never been inside it before, or any other barn for that matter, but he was certain the barren hayless interior wasn’t typical of a working farm. Perhaps the farm had never functioned at all, and it’d been a cover all along.
He barred the door after stepping inside, and made sure his mother took a seat so she could catch her breath. Her head seemed to have cleared during the short adrenaline-fueled flight from the cottage, but her legs were still obviously weak from disuse.
“Holden!”
Elijah’s voice was a welcome addition to their little crew. Holden turned just in time to see the drummer flying toward him for a tight hug. He smelled strange, like chemicals instead of sugar and smoke the way he had at the club, but his clutching grip and hitching breaths were familiar.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” he said. “You guys have lost it.”
“We can do the reunion thing later,” Six said. “We need to start moving out.”
“What about Chase?” Elijah demanded, whirling toward Six. “I’m not leaving without him.”
“Yes. You are.” Six pursed his lips as he peered through a crack at the side of the large barn door. “You and Jessica need to get going now. The bigger this group, the more likely it is that we’ll be caught, and the situation has changed.”
“My father is here.” Holden glanced down at his mother. She’d begun tying her hair in a knot as she sat drowning in the fabric of the enormous nightgown. “Which means he’ll have his own security as well.”
“Exactly. Time to get the fuck out of here.” Six turned just to jerk his chin at Trent. “You good to take Elijah on my bike?”
Trent and Nate exchanged glances, an unspoken communication that lasted for all of ten seconds before Trent inclined his head. For a void who’d been introduced to the Community and the existence of the supernatural only recently, he was handling it shockingly well.
“I’m good to do what I need to do as long as you help Nate find his brother.”
Jessica’s head popped up at that. Her eyes sharpened on Nate, but she didn’t say anything.
Six tossed his keys at Trent’s chest. “The best way to get out of here is to go south toward the lake and either take one of the boats across or go the long way and cut across the fie—”
Elijah stood between them with his hands curled into fists. Like Holden’s mother, he was lost in oversized white pajamas, and his feet were bare. “I’m not leaving until I know Chase is safe, and you disagreeing with me and treating me like a child is only going to slow us down.”
Holden couldn’t argue with his reasoning, especially given the shock waves of heartache Elijah was setting of
f in the barn. Wave after wave of fear and concern bowled Holden over until he wanted to shout at Six to reactivate the goddamn shield, because he’d clearly let it drop at some point.
The grief choked Holden and left no question about Elijah’s feelings for Chase. It had always been an unspoken thing between them all at the club, because Elijah was a free spirit who flitted from person to person and did as he pleased. For a time, people had whispered that his affections had been for Holden himself, but either that had never been true or he’d only recently realized he was in love with Chase.
“Okay,” he found himself saying. “I understand.”
Six shot him an incredulous glare, and Holden arched a brow. Six’s mouth sunk at the sides. After a second, he nodded and dismissed Elijah to focus his attention on Jessica.
“How far can you walk?”
“As far as I need to,” she said hoarsely. “Are you getting the others out?”
“Just Chase. We’re not planned enough for a bigger move right now.”
A flicker of regret flashed across her face. “I see. If you’re going to retrieve him, now is the time. People are doing supply runs in preparation for Richard’s arrival, including Jasper. I don’t feel him on the property right now.” She stole another glance at Nate before reaching out for Lia. “Help me up, darling.”
Lia complied, wrapping an arm around her narrow shoulders. “You ready to ditch all these men?”
“Extremely ready,” Jessica croaked. “They’ll only slow us down.”
Now that sounded like Holden’s mother. He wanted to smile, but he still felt like she was a stranger.
“We need to talk soon,” he said to her.
“We do. And I’ll tell you everything, but right now you all need to go before Richard realizes what’s happening. He’ll kill you all before he allows this many people to defect. It would create cracks in the Community that he can’t privately repair.” Jessica’s fingers tightened around Lia’s upper arm. “He’s with the woman in the guest house, and then he’ll come to see me. Once he realizes I’m gone, this will go to shit.”
Oversight (The Community Book 2) Page 18
