by Naomi Martin
“How do you know for sure?” Elliot asks.
Dora sighs. “I guess it doesn’t matter anymore. I got a call from somebody inside Villa’s inner circle. She works in the R&D department, building some of the weapons that have been arrayed against us,” she says. “Jenni’s recently had a change of heart about the side she’s working for, and she tipped me off to the fight that’s coming.”
“If Villa finds out, she is a dead woman walking,” Elliot remarks.
“My understanding is that after her phone call, she was disappearing,” Dora says. “I doubt I’ll hear from her again.”
“How long do we have?” Zane asks.
“Day and a half,” she responds. “Maybe two if we’re lucky.”
There are grumbles and gasps around the table as everybody exchanges looks. The mood in the war room is grim as we all ponder the idea of Villa bringing his entire force to bear against us.
“They wouldn’t practically be on our doorstep if we didn’t have a traitor in our midst,” I say.
I cast a pointed look over at some of Coral’s former friends and allies. They, at least, have the good taste to turn away, ashamed of themselves.
“Be that as it may, we have a real problem now,” Dora says. “We’re staring down the barrel of a gun.”
“We have no choice,” somebody speaks up. “We have to flee. Regroup somewhere else.”
“So Villa can plant somebody else in our group?” Elliot says.
“What choice do we have?” somebody asks.
“I don’t know that we have much of a choice,” Dora admits. “Running and hiding, regrouping again elsewhere, is the most prudent plan.”
“I’m tired of running,” I argue. “And I’m tired of always having to look over our shoulders. We need to end this once and for all.”
Dora shrugs. “Given that Villa’s got the President’s backing, I don’t know that we’ll be able to.”
“We need to change his mind, then,” I reply, my voice steely with determination.
Everybody around the table laughs. We’ve discussed this before, and it seems as feasible as getting everybody in this country to suddenly welcome us with open arms.
“Do you have an idea?” Zane asks.
I nod. “I think I do.”
“And what is that?”
“I’m going to Travel myself into the Oval Office and have a chat with him,” I say.
After all we’ve been through, after all I’ve almost lost, anger is flowing freely through my veins. I’m tired of fighting. I’m tired of this war. I want nothing more than to live a peaceful life, enjoying my boys and enjoying our love.
“And you’ll get yourself shot,” Elliot insists. “No way in hell you’re going to do that. That’s crazy. A suicide mission.”
Zane and Dora both are looking at me, eyebrows arched, as if they’re intrigued by my suggestion. Everybody else is gaping at me like I’ve lost my mind.
The doors to the war room open and Gray limps in. I flash him a smile and Elliot gets up, offering him his seat. Gray gives him a grateful nod and drops down heavily into the chair.
“So, what are we discussing?” Gray asks.
“Raven’s terrible idea of Traveling into the Oval Office for a little sit down with the President,” Elliot says. “Thinks she can make him see reason.”
Gray looks at me, an amused smile playing across his lips. “Huh. That’s an interesting thought,” he says. “Crazy as hell, but I like it.”
Elliot gapes at him. “You’re not serious.”
Gray nods. “I am actually. You know that when she puts her mind to something, she can usually see it through.”
“Jesus Christ,” Elliot mutters. “She’s just as likely to touch off World War Three.”
“Hey!” I snap at him. “No offense taken, or anything.”
Elliot casts me a crooked grin. “You know what I mean. You’re like a bull in a china shop sometimes. I think this requires a lighter, more diplomatic touch.”
“Yeah, well, do you know anybody else who’s got access to the White House?” I ask.
Elliot looks to Gray, who gives him a shrug, and then Zane, who gives him nothing, before turning back to me.
“Well… no,” he admits. “But there has to be a better way than just dropping into one of the most secure buildings on the planet totally unexpected and unannounced.”
“I’m all ears if you got something, ginger,” Gray says.
Elliot flushes and shakes his head, falling silent. The longer I think about it though, the more I like the idea. It’s crazy and reckless, yes. But perhaps it’s the sort of crazy that will shock the President enough that he can’t help but take notice. That he’ll actually listen to me. If I ever want to have the life I want, one of peace and happiness with my boys, then this has to happen. The President has to listen to me. More than that, he has to act on what I say. Which means I need to be more courageous—and more persuasive—than I’ve ever been in my entire life.
I get to my feet. “It’s settled, then,” I say. “I’m going.”
“We’ll go with you,” Elliot offers. “I don’t like the idea of you going in there alone.”
I shake my head. “If we all pop in there at once, they’re likely going to think we’re invading. I want to keep this as calm and even as I can.”
“She’s right,” Zane agrees. “It’s better if she goes alone.”
“And if the Secret Service shoots her down?” Elliot asks, his voice high, tinged with worry.
“Then you can freely say you told me so whenever you want,” I reply with a grin.
“Funny,” he spits.
“Are you certain you want to do this?” Dora asks.
The air in the room is hushed. Silent. Everybody is staring at me—some with respect in their eyes, others like I’ve suddenly sprouted a second head. I look over to my boys and take a moment to hold their gaze, trying to convey my love for each of them, the dream of a life free of war, free to live in love and peace, tantalizingly close.
“Yeah,” I say. “I’m going to do this.”
I walk to the far end of the room, the boys quickly and quietly gathering around me. They all look concerned but resigned to the idea that I’m doing this.
“Can you even do this? Can you Travel to the Oval Office?” Zane asks.
I shrug. “I’ve never been there, but I feel like I have,” I say. “I mean, I’ve seen it in more movies and TV shows than I can count.”
We all laugh together for a moment, then quickly fall silent. I honestly don’t know if I can do this. But I feel like I can. I feel like my powers are opening to me in new and unexpected ways. That there are things I can do… that I don’t even know I can do yet. Which makes this worth a try. And exciting as hell.
“I love you guys,” I tell them. “With all of my heart and soul.”
“Please don’t say that like you’re never going to see us again,” Elliot says.
I lean forward and plant a soft kiss on his lips. “I’ll see you again soon,” I tell him. “I’d miss you nagging me too much to not come back.”
They laugh again and I give them all a quick kiss. I’m aware of all the eyes on us. Everybody watching us closely, waiting to see what’s going to happen. I guess it’s time for me to put on a show. I give my boys a wink.
“I’ll see you soon,” I say.
I stand back and start to focus on my destination, channeling Spirit and myself in it. I’m going to the Oval Office… but first, one quick pitstop.
* * * * *
I stand in the middle of the long, lonely stretch of highway. Waiting. Watching. According to Dora’s intel Dora, the convoy was moving toward us down this highway. It’s well off the usual transit arteries, which is good. Not only is not having witnesses a good thing, being well away from civilization is a better thing.
I turn my face up to the sun, letting it warm me from without as I open myself up to all of the Elements, letting them fill me from within. L
et my body find a rhythm with them. I feel everything around me, like my senses are sharper. Everything seems more vivid. More… alive. I feel powerful, more powerful than I’ve ever felt before. Part of it is confidence, I know. But the other part of it comes with opening myself up to the full scope of my abilities.
For so long, I’ve held myself back. I’ve put limitations on myself. I’ve curbed my own abilities and power, just because I haven’t had enough faith in myself. Haven’t believed in myself. That’s changing. I don’t know why. I mean, I don’t feel like I’m necessarily doing anything different, but the feelings inside of me are changing.
And now, the power I feel running through my veins, crackling across my skin and filling every single cell in my body, is amazing. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. Anything I knew I could feel.
And I’m ready.
I see the trucks begin to crest the hill about a mile in front of me. Large cargo and troop carriers. There are some outriders in Humvees, too, and even a few motorcycles. They’re moving fast, barreling straight toward me. I swallow hard, my throat suddenly dry, and feel a flutter in my belly. I may feel powerful as hell, but that doesn’t mean I don’t still get scared.
On and on they come, seeming to be picking up speed now that they have undoubtedly seen me. A slow grin quirks a corner of my mouth upward.
“Come to mama,” I say.
The ground trembles beneath my feet and the low, deep rumble of the engines fills the air around me as the two lead carriers in the convoy move so they’re running side by side. My stomach flutters again and my pulse races as they draw closer. They’re few hundred yards from me now and I raise my hands, channeling Fire. My hands and arms crackle with power and I release two thick columns of flame with a near-deafening roar.
The two trucks swerve, but not quick enough. The flames punch through the grills and both trucks erupt into flame. I follow that up with powerful, hurricane-force gusts of Air. The burning vehicles are tossed aside, both of them veering off the road, turning over and hitting the ground with a thunderous crash of twisted and tortured metal.
The vehicles behind the lead trucks power on, so I hit them first with Fire, then blast them off the road with Air. The rest of the convoy comes to a screeching halt on the highway and I see black-clad soldiers pouring out of them like an army of ants. They start taking positions all across the road, weapons trained on me.
“Villa!” I shout. “Get your ass out here. Front and center, coward!”
I hear the crackle of gunfire and, acting on instinct, I throw up a wall of Fire in front of me that burns so hot, it cracks and pits the pavement of the highway. The bullets melt on impact. When I hear the gunfire stop, I cut my weave and the flames go out. When they see me again, the gunfire resumes, so I conjure a flow of Air so strong, it blows them all off course, sending them harmlessly away from me.
They don’t open fire again and I smile. “Villa. I’m here for you!” I call out. “None of your men need to die here today. Come out here. I only want to talk to you.”
I see him step out from around one of the vehicles. “Go to hell, freak!” he shouts back. “We’re going to wipe you out.”
I smile. I didn’t expect Villa to actually come face me on his own. He doesn’t have the balls. I only wanted to know where he was at. I lash out with a weave of Spirit and wrap it around his ankle faster than he can react. I give it a hard yank to drop him flat on his back. I draw the weave to me, dragging him along the pavement like I’m reeling in a fish. He’s screaming and calling for help.
Villa’s men are shouting, charging after him, raising their weapons. They don’t fire, though, likely afraid to hit him by mistake. I raise my other hand and lash out with a weave of Fire. A wall of flame erupts and spans the width of the highway, separating Villa from his men. The wall lengthens, growing wider as his men try to run around it. Channeling another weave of Spirit, I wrap Villa up good and tight, before I float him above the ground with a weave of Air.
I draw him to me, so we’re only a foot apart. I let him hang there, staring into my eyes, for several long moments. His face is red, he’s breathing heavily, and the sweat is rolling off him in sheets. I can practically smell his fear. I’m sure if I had Gray’s abilities, I would.
A feral smile crosses my lips as I look him in the eye. “I’ve dreamed about this day for a very, very long time,” I tell him. “Ever since the night you murdered my parents, in fact.”
“Go ahead and do it. Kill me. You’re only going to make a martyr out of me,” he sneers.
“The same way you made a martyr out of Senator Cook?” I spit. “So you could use his death for your political gain? You framed an innocent man for Cook’s murder so you could get a few more guns and the leeway to use them?”
“Yeah, so? It worked too, bitch. In war, results are all that matter.” His laughter is brittle, like he’s on the verge of a breakdown. “That dumbass Sharpe gave me everything I wanted. And then some. You may kill me, but just know that the next man up will continue to hunt you freaks. He’ll continue to kill you.”
“So, murder is just a means to an end for you,” I say. “Why do you hate us so much?”
“You’re unnatural. Unholy,” he growls. “You and your kind should be eradicated. You’re monsters.”
“You murder innocent men, women and children. All we do is defend ourselves,” I retort. “Who’s the real monster here?”
“Call me what you want. None of you should be allowed to live,” he insists. “And I don’t care who I have to kill, lie to, or manipulate to ensure that happens.”
“I doubt if he had all the facts of what you’re doing—what you’ve done—that President Sharpe would share your view,” I say. “I doubt he’d condone a genocide within this country.”
“He’s a moron. He’s weak. He’ll agree to whatever I tell him to,” Villa says. “He doesn’t have the strength to do what needs to be done. That’s why he has people like me around, to give him the strength he doesn’t have.”
I nod at him. “For so long, I’ve wanted to kill you. Wanted to avenge my parents. They were innocents, Villa.”
“Boohoo. Cry me a fuckin’ river,” he spits. “They gave birth to you, so they obviously weren’t all that innocent.”
“I fully intended to kill you here today,” I tell him. “But you know what? You’re not worth it. You’ve showed me that you’re truly the monster, and I don’t want to be anything like you.”
“Oh, how righteous of you. How magnanimous.”
“No. I’m definitely not righteous,” I say. “But I’m not a monster, either. You’ve helped me see that. So, thank you.”
“Fuck you.”
A faint smile flickers across my lips. “Well. If you’ll excuse me, I have an appointment to keep.”
I take a few steps back and cut the weaves, dropping Villa to the ground with a meaty thud. Focusing my energy, I wrap myself in Spirit, a nervous flutter in my heart.
“Here goes nothing.”
I pour more Spirit into the weave and feel myself sliding…
Chapter Thirty-Six
Raven
I find myself standing in the Oval Office. I have to suppress the urge to laugh; it looks exactly like it does on TV. A man with dark hair, going gray at the temples, looks up from where he sits behind the Resolute Desk. His face blanches and his mouth falls open. A man and a woman in dark suits are flanking him behind the desk, all three of them obviously in the middle of a discussion when I popped in.
I see one of them opening his mouth to raise the alarm and I quickly channel threads of Spirit and wrap them all in tight weaves, making sure they can’t move or speak. Probably not the best way to make a first impression. But it’s not like I can do much else.
“President Sharpe, I’m so sorry to introduce myself like this, but it’s vitally important I speak with you,” I say. “This truly is a matter of life and death. I’m trying to prevent a war in this country. I’m trying to pr
event a genocide.”
The three of them look at me, their eyes wide, expressions of pure shock on their faces. I swallow hard, feeling as absolutely terrified as they look.
“I want to release you now, but I need to make sure nobody freaks out. I don’t want anybody screaming or going for guns or anything like that,” I tell them. “I only want to talk… and to show you something. Can you do that? Will you promise me nobody is going to lose their shit?”
I see them all exchange looks. The President seems to be composing himself, but the other two still look like they’re on the verge of a massive meltdown. Noticing a glass of water on the desk, I move quickly and pick it up, conscious of all their eyes on me. Sharpe, though, has a glimmer in his eye that is hovering somewhere between curious and amused. Which is surprising, since I expected him to be purple with fury right about now.
“Sorry. I’m really parched,” I say, then drink half the glass and set it down again. “Thank you. I really needed that. I always get dry throat when I’m nervous.”
The three remain bound, but they seem to be slowly calming down; the President, most of all. He continues to stare at me like I’m an alien, or like I grew a second head or something. He looks at me like I’m more an item of intrigue than something to fear. Which I suppose is a good start. I don’t want him to be afraid of me, otherwise this whole dog and pony show will be for naught.
“I could have come in here with a hundred supers,” I tell them, just to reinforce the point that I’m not a threat. “If I’d wanted it, there would be werewolves and vampires running through the halls eating everybody I told them to. But that’s not what I want. I just want to talk. So… can I remove the bonds?”
The President gives a meaningful look at both of his people and nods. I hesitate for a moment, but know that if they’re going to trust me, I need to trust them. So, I roll the dice and cut the weaves. The President looks at me, taking off his round, black-rimmed glasses, his green eyes sparkling with amusement.
“You have got a pair of stones on you, kid. Real stones. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen somebody with bigger stones than you,” he says.
