by Naomi Martin
I shake my head at the voices in my mind, thinking they sound entirely too gung-ho and militant for my liking. My phone rings, making me nearly jump out of my skin. As it is, my body jerks and I accidentally hit the horn. Just one sharp burst, but it’s enough to draw the attention of Cook’s men.
“Shit.”
They confer with each other quickly, then one of them begins to stride toward me, his hand hovering near the pistol I know he’s got under his jacket.
“Double shit.”
Thinking quickly, I check the caller ID as I pick up the phone. I slip the ear bud in and connect the call just as the bodyguard reaches my car. He raps on the window, glowering at me through the glass.
“Hold on,” I tell Zane.
I lower the window and look at the man, doing my best to act innocent.
“Can I help you, sir?” I ask.
“Do you live on this street, ma’am?” he asks.
“Of course I do. Would I be sitting here if I didn’t?”
I glare at him like he’s beneath me and inject as much haughtiness into my tone as I can, figuring I would blend in with the crowd in this upscale, tony neighborhood. I might stick out more if I was polite and deferential.
“May I ask what you’re doing sitting here in your car?” he asks.
I hold up my phone. “Is it a crime to be talking to my boyfriend?”
“I’m going to have to ask you to move along.”
I give him an icy glare. “I have to find some way to tell my boyfriend–a congressman’s son, no less—that I’m pregnant,” I hiss. “And I will not be doing that while I’m driving. It’s just too… emotional. His wife is going to…”
I let my voice trail off and muster up some fake tears. The man stands there looking uncomfortable and clears his throat.
“Fine,” he says. “Just make it quick.”
I roll the window up without another word and he goes back to waiting by the car with the other man.
“Zane, what’s happening?” I ask. “Why are you calling me? Is everything all right?”
“We need to talk,” he says.
I close my eyes as my stomach churns, the tone of his voice filling me with fear. I quickly check the bond and feel Gray. The bright light that represents him inside of me is pulsing and feels stronger somehow. It fills me with more warmth than ever before. I push it away and let out a sigh of relief, my worst fears proving to be nothing.
But then Zane’s words sink in and I cock my head. “Wait. Where are you?” I ask. “Aren’t you searching for Gray?”
“We are,” he replies. “We’re in DC, Raven.”
“What in the hell are you doing here? I thought—”
“That’s what we need to talk about,” he says. “Where are you staying?”
I give them the name of the hotel I’m at, along with the address. Zane tells me they’ll meet me there and disconnects. The call was so abrupt that I’m left staring at my phone for a few moments after he’s hung up. His tone tells me there is something very wrong. But when I check the bond again, it’s still pulsing strong and I know that Gray is alive and well, so I have no idea what in the world the problem is.
I set the phone down, looking up in time to see Senator Cook exiting his mistresses’ place. I glance at my watch and shake my head.
“Fifteen minutes, Senator?” I say. “Disappointing performance.”
As I watch him give her one last kiss at the door and bound down the steps, I’m overcome with the urge to take him now. To disable the bodyguards, then stop his heart before he gets into the car. I could end it all, right now. I clench my jaw and stare at him, the thought of ending this war filling my head. He’s within a hundred yards of me. I can do it right now and be done with it.
My hand is resting on the door handle and I’m just about to open it when I come back to myself. I move my hand and put it up on the steering wheel, staring at it like I’m half afraid it’s going to move on its own again. This needs to be done right. There are too many witnesses right now—if I took him out in full view of the public, I’d only be making things worse.
Far from ending the war, I’d not only prolong it, I’d make it worse. A super killing Cook for all the world to see would be justification enough for them to launch an all-out campaign of genocide upon us.
I let out a long breath and start the car. I pull away from the curb and as I drive by the bodyguard who’d been hassling me, I shoot him the finger and drive off. In the rearview mirror, I can see the other bodyguard laughing at the first one. It was impertinent and probably not the smartest thing to do—I shouldn’t be making a spectacle of myself and chance being remembered—but my frustration is boiling over and I just want this to be over with already.
I point the car toward my hotel, equal parts excited and afraid to see my boys.
Chapter Twenty
Zane
We’re already at the door to her room, waiting, when Raven gets here. She runs up the stairs and throws herself into my arms, giving me a tight squeeze. After that, she pulls Elliot into a warm embrace. He gives her a quick peck on the lips, then she turns and opens the door. We all file inside and she closes it behind us, turning all three locks.
I toss my coat onto the chair and take a seat. Elliot sits on the edge of the bed, and Raven sits beside him, looking at me expectantly. Rightly so. This is probably the last place she would have expected us to turn up.
“So… are you going to tell me how in the hell you ended up here?” she finally asks.
I glance at Elliot and he looks as troubled as I feel. He doesn’t do a good job of hiding it, though; the kid has the worst poker face in history. I get to my feet and begin to pace the room. Her eyes follow me as I move, trying to organize my thoughts. There are a lot of different pieces to this puzzle that’s suddenly presented itself to me, and at the moment, I’m not quite sure how they all fit together.
All I can say is there’s something bigger at play here, and if we don’t figure it out soon, we may all be in trouble.
“We tracked Gray to the Pit, Raven,” I finally say.
“How did you track him?”
“I’ve been studying the bond between us for a long time now,” I admit. “I wanted to understand it better. And, through my study, I’ve discovered some things about it… including how to use that beacon to track.”
“You’re kidding me?” she gasps.
I shake my head. “It’s not perfect. And it’s definitely not precise,” I quickly add. “But I can usually find a general area.”
“So that’s how you do it,” she says. “I thought it was one of your vampire powers.”
I shrug. “If I had sired you, it would work that way. Our blood would be connected,” I explain. “This is different. This beacon we all have that was ignited by the Joining is very different and has many mysteries to be revealed.”
She nods and runs a hand through her midnight black hair. Her face is troubled, and she looks at me closely, searching for answers to her questions.
“Anyway,” I say, “Gray and Lucas must have tracked Viv to the Pit. Why they continued their pursuit into that area is beyond me.”
“Shifters sometimes get trail blind,” Elliot offers. “When they’re hunting, sometimes all they can see is the trail and they don’t really pay attention to their surroundings.”
Raven and I both cast a glance at Elliot, who shrugs and gives us a weak, wavering smile.
“I read a lot,” he says. “I study other supernaturals. I like to know their strengths and weaknesses.”
I nod. That sounds very much like an Elliot thing to do. I turn to Raven and can see the confusion and stark fear in her eyes, and it only seems to be getting thicker and deeper. I would like to allay her fears, but I cannot.
“Elliot and I tracked him to the Pit, though we stopped long before we got there,” I continue. “After that, though, he left the Pit and we tracked him here. To DC.”
Raven shakes her head. “That ma
kes no sense. Why would he come here?” she asks. “Why wouldn’t he just come back to Meridian? To us?”
“I think the better question, and the one that needs to be asked, is—how did he get out of the Pit?” I ask.
“You know they don’t let anybody out voluntarily,” Elliot adds. “So how did he escape?”
Raven shakes her head and I can see her mind racing. She knows full well the implications of what we’re saying, and I can already see her lining up defenses against them. She looks up at me, her face still etched with fear and concern for Gray.
“How do we know for sure he was at the Pit?” she asks. “You yourself said your tracking ability isn’t precise. Maybe he was in the general area of the Pit, but was never taken in.”
“I admit, it’s a possibility,” I concede. “But then, why would he have come here, and not returned to Meridian?”
She opens her mouth, but then closes it again. I can see her heart and mind at war, the battle playing out across her face. Raven looks from me, to Elliot, and back again. There’s no good reason for Gray to be here. Not unless he’d been Compelled to come.
“I’ve been thinking about this since Viv attacked you,” I say. “Why would she do it?”
Raven shakes her head. “I don’t know. I assume she was either one of those who don’t approve of what we’re doing,” she replies, “or she was working for Villa.”
“Or the third option is that she was compelled to do so,” I tell her.
“What do you mean, compelled?”
Elliot looks at me for a moment and then nods, seeing where my train of thought is going.
“You know about Compulsion as a vampire power, right?” I ask.
Raven nods. “Yeah, I mean, I know about it in an abstract sense,” she says. “But I’ve never actually seen it.”
“Okay, same basic concept. Vampire compulsion will eventually wear off,” I explain. “I don’t think Viv was compelled by a vampire.”
“Then how?” Raven asks.
“An elemental,” I say. “A Spirit Elemental, in particular.”
“I don’t think that’s possible,” Raven rebuts.
“It’s an interesting thought,” Elliot says pensively. “That’s a very interesting thought, actually.”
“Guys, I really don’t think it’s possible,” Raven says again.
I turn to her. “Your mission is predicated on you manipulating Cook’s internal organs, right?”
‘Well, yeah,” she says. “Just his heart, though.”
“The principle is the same. The brain is just another organ,” I say. “What if Villa’s Elementals have figured out a way to manipulate the brain? Maybe implant commands or something to make them do something.”
“Compulsion,” Elliot says. “Like a vampire, but different. Perhaps an even more powerful form of compulsion.”
I nod. “Exactly.”
Raven screws up her face. “So, you think they’ve figured out how to rewire somebody’s brain?”
“I think it’s possible,” I tell her.
“And if Gray was captured at the Pit, maybe he’s been subjected to this form of compulsion,” Elliot says. “Maybe he’s been… programmed.”
“To what end?” Raven asks. “Programmed to do what?”
I look at Elliot and we both shrug. That’s the million-dollar question right now. All I know for sure is that he was at the Pit—at least, I’m reasonably sure he was—and now he’s here in DC.
“It could be anything,” I admit. “What if he’s here to, like, assassinate the President or something?”
“So, he’s like a Manchurian Candidate?” Raven scoffs. “That’s ridiculous.”
Elliot and I share a look, sending an uncomfortable sensation washing over me. I didn’t believe it until I said it, but now that I have, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m right. If not assassinating the President, then it’s at least something close to it. But what could it be? What is his mission here?
“Are we seriously talking about this?” Raven asks. “Are we seriously entertaining the idea that Villa’s figured out how to rewire the human brain, and that he programmed Gray and sent him here on some mission to kill some random person?”
“I don’t think it’s a random person,” Elliot says. “I think it’s a very specific person.”
I nod. “I hate to sound like a conspiracy theorist, but that makes sense to me,” I say. “The brain, like the heart, is an organ. And all organs can be manipulated with the right stimulus.”
Raven’s face pales and although she still looks skeptical, I can see something in her eyes beginning to shift. She is starting to accept the idea that if she can manipulate a man’s heart, stopping it with her abilities, then it seems reasonable to assume the brain can be manipulated, as well. It’s a logical progression.
She sighs and scrubs her face with her hands. “So, what do we do about this?”
“We need to find the big stupid guy,” Elliot says.
“Agreed,” I add. “We just need to figure out a way to find him.”
“I need to finish my mission. Tonight,” Raven announces. “After that, we’re going to find Gray and bring him home.”
I share a look with Elliot and we both nod. “Fine. But I’ll be coming with you on your mission tonight.”
“No, I don’t want—”
“I’m not asking you,” I say firmly. “With so much going on, I don’t want you running around out there by yourself. I won’t have you alone and unprotected.”
“Zane, I’m a big girl now,” she replies. “Besides, this is kind of a one-man job, so to speak.”
“I’m not going to get in your way,” I tell her. “You won’t even know I’m there. I just want to be able to keep an eye on you. I promise to keep to the shadows.”
She looks ready to argue, but she closes her mouth and nods. Which is good, I suppose. I was going to tag along tonight one way or the other. I’m a vampire, stealth is kind of my thing.
All the same, though, I’m glad she gave me her permission just so things don’t get tense or awkward.
“What about me?” Elliot asks.
“You stay here,” I tell him. “Be ready to back us up if we need help.”
Elliot grins. “Sit on the bench just in case you need backup?” he says. “Isn’t that basically what you tell kids on the little league team with no athletic talent?”
I shrug and flash him a smile. “Yeah, basically.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Raven
“Do you really think it’s possible?” I ask. “That they’ve figured out how to control somebody’s mind?”
Zane shrugs languidly. “It’s the only thing that makes sense to me,” he says. “But you’re the resident expert on Elemental power. What can you do with your abilities?”
I snort. “I’d hardly say I’m an expert.”
“Close enough,” he replies. “You taught yourself how to use your power to stop a man’s heart in his chest. You taught yourself to kill him without leaving a fingerprint. I’d say that’s considered expert-level stuff.”
A quiet laugh passes my lips, but then I fall silent and consider everything that’s been said. Once I was able to cut through all of the emotion of it and really think about the situation, I’d have to say it’s possible. I guess. If I can manipulate a man’s heart with a weave of Spirit, I’d have to say it’s theoretically possible to manipulate his mind.
It would be delicate, intricate work, and only somebody well-versed in Spirit could accomplish it. Which is just another way of saying I couldn’t do it. But I have to admit that just because I can’t do it doesn’t mean somebody else couldn’t. It’s a scary thought to consider. And the thought it could have been done to Gray fills me with a rage so deep, it even scares me.
We can’t know for sure, but the possibility that Gray’s been turned into some living weapon, or a time bomb set to go off, is frightening. Especially because it’s Gray. I can’t bear the thought of any
thing happening to him. To any one of my boys.
“How are we going to find Gray?” I ask.
Zane shakes his head. “I’m not sure yet,” he says, then turns his gaze to me, his eyes intense. “But we will. I promise you that. We’ll find him.”
I nod, feeling somewhat reassured—though anything but good—about this whole situation. I feel like we’re caught up in the wheels of a massive clusterfuck and this whole thing is going to come crashing down on our heads. I don’t know what’s going on, nor what’s going to happen after I kill Cook. I just have a sense there are pieces on the board, hidden in the shadows, that are being moved around and arrayed against us.
I’m not one for superstitions or omens, but I feel like something bad is going to happen.
I glance at my watch and see that it’s quarter after twelve. I’ve waited long enough. By this time, Cook should be in bed, his bodyguards positioned on the street in front of his house. I look over at Zane.
“You stay here,” I tell him.
He gives me a non-committal smirk. Perfect. Just what I need.
I get out of the car and move down the street that runs next to Cook’s, pulling my hood up to cover my face in shadow. I make it to the brownstone that sits behind his. A narrow alley separates each place, and I take a look up and down the lane. I see nobody out there, nor any faces pressed to the windows. I’m clear.
Quickly channeling weaves of Air, I wrap them about my feet, then quickly slip down the alley, my steps cushioned and silent. Standing on the other side of the fence from Cook’s home, I channel more Air and use my weaves to lift me up. The trees around me sway like a sudden breeze has sprung up, but there’s nothing else to mark my passing.
I guide myself down, silently landing on the roof of Cook’s home. I pause for a moment and reach out with my senses, listening for the slightest sound but hearing nothing. I feel a vague pressure in the air and a slight depression on the roof behind me that shouldn’t be there, however. I sigh.
“I told you to stay in the car,” I whisper.
“Where would the fun be in that?”
