His sand stream was still ragged, a sign of a diseased mind, but within moments, it settled into a more regular pattern. He breathed a sigh of relief. “I didn’t know . . . that feels . . . better.”
“What do you know about Senator Ropte?” I asked.
“Can you untie me?” he countered. “I’m not going to attack anyone. Not with you and him here.” His chin angled at Ritter.
But my request had started the sands in his mind lurching and shifting to find the right memories. All at once I had the answer, the information Delia had been trying to hide: David Ropte was her descendant and next in line to ascend to her position in the Emporium Triad.
For the first time in Unbounded history, a member of the normally reclusive Triad was a public figure, someone who could be reached—and perhaps eliminated—before more people were murdered.
I reached over and set Bedřich’s hands free.
THE EMPORIUM TRIAD WAS THE ruling body of the Emporium. The three members directed and controlled the bulk of Emporium business holdings and interests, employing hundreds of Unbounded agents and an unknown number of mortal offspring in each of their headquarters. Emporium businesses also employed thousands of unconnected mortals across the globe, who didn’t suspect they were working for Unbounded.
The Emporium directed genetic experimentation on Unbounded and mortals alike and plotted to bring Unbounded to what they believed was their rightful place as leaders of the entire world. Upon the Triad’s word people lived or died. Mortals, even their own offspring who didn’t Change, were considered cattle or slaves, to be used and tossed aside. Millennia ago, Renegades had risen up against them to protect the mortals they loved, and we’d been fighting for that cause ever since.
We’d known Triad positions were passed down within the same three families, the successors groomed and chosen by the leaders, but any of their descendants could be chosen. Delia had lived seventeen hundred years, and she’d had ample progeny to choose from. We’d suspected her successor would remain hidden from the public eye, out of Renegade reach behind nameless corporations and numerous Unbounded soldiers. Not that we hadn’t tried to find him. Together, Ava and I had spent copious amounts of time painstakingly searching the leftover bits of memories Delia had left in my mind, but they held no clue about her successor.
“So Ropte isn’t just a supporter,” Ritter said into the silence filling the infirmary. “All along he’s been part of the Emporium. This explains a lot—why he’s so against the president, and why he’s probably responsible for the Burklap murders.”
“Learning about him this late in the game makes me wonder how many other sleeper agents they have in place.” I wanted to punch something—namely Senator Ropte, even if I broke my hand on his handsome, chiseled jaw. No wonder he looked so great in the hologram. I couldn’t tell from an image if a person was Unbounded or not, but I should have guessed. “If we don’t locate those families so the senators can vote without being influenced, the Emporium will succeed in blocking the president’s new laws, and after that, who knows? By the time anyone pins those murders on Ropte, he’ll be running this country.”
“We will find them,” Ava said quietly.
“What’s Ropte’s ability?” I asked Bedřich. “Is it sensing?” If he was anywhere near as powerful as Delia, we were in more trouble than we’d thought.
Bedřich hesitated two seconds before answering. “No. Delia’s only real success in cultivating the sensing ability was in her assistant and a few others who weren’t really suited for leadership. Probably a good thing for her or they might have destroyed her the way she destroyed her predecessor, or so the rumor goes. No, I believe he has another ability, but I don’t know what it is. She never shared that information with me.”
We threw out a few more questions, and I detected several more gaps in Fenton and Eden’s memories, but I didn’t remark on them. They didn’t know anything more of value, and Eden looked like she needed to rest.
Ava finally called it quits. “In twenty minutes, I want everyone in the conference room.” She started for the door.
Bedřich, now sitting on the bed where his legs were still tied, gave an unbalanced, mirthless laugh. “You’ll never stop them. You know why? Because you care too much about mortals, while the Triad will sacrifice everything and anyone to get to the end—even each other.”
Anger swept through me. “That’s where you’re wrong. We beat Delia because we worked together to protect mortals. I don’t care what else they throw at us, we will beat the Emporium, even if we have to march into every facility they own and shoot them in their beds.”
In two steps, I swooped up a pad of paper on the table in front of Dimitri and slammed it on Bedřich’s stomach. “Now you start writing down every single Emporium headquarter location you can remember before the Emporium realizes we took you guys from the facility—if they haven’t already figured it out from the scene we caused helping you escape.”
The Czech glanced down at the pad, wrinkling his nose at what was already written there. “They’re all here, at least the five big ones: San Francisco, New York, England, Germany, and Norway. They also have locations in France and Russia, but those are really just small affairs. Less than a dozen Unbounded at each. Maybe a couple dozen mortals. Oh, and the headquarters you uncovered in Venezuela. They probably moved survivors there to one of the other South American safe houses.”
Eight in all? Plus extra safe houses? Our intel had indicated there were several hundred Emporium Unbounded, but even Keene had never been sure how many, and hearing it like this felt like a kick in the gut.
Ava stared at Bedřich from where she’d paused by the door to the isolation room. “How many Unbounded do the Emporium have? Dimitri asked your colleagues while you were unconscious, and they couldn’t tell us. Maybe you can.”
Fenton and Eden’s minds once again showed a blackness that indicated a missing memory, but Bedřich nodded. “Over four hundred, last I knew. Not counting the mortal offspring who work for us.” He lifted both shoulders and gave us an insincere smile. “But they are never counted.”
“Of course not.” I could barely get the words out past my disgust.
By contrast, the two largest Renegade cells were ours and the one in New York. We had others scattered throughout the world, including England, Italy, and the Mexican prison compound, but many of the cells were tiny, some consisting of only two or three members. With our newest Unbounded, Mari and Oliver, and Patrick, the president’s son, plus four others who’d Changed in other cells, we only numbered ninety-seven Unbounded and even fewer mortals.
Ava’s gaze swung over the room again. “Twenty minutes,” she reminded us. “I’ll need all of you. I’m sure our guests won’t mind waiting in their quarters.”
I LEFT RITTER, DIMITRI, AND our mortal guards to secure our guests in the holding room, which resembled an elaborate hotel suite—except there was no way to leave. Multiple hidden cameras and microphones were everywhere, including the bathrooms and bedrooms. One portion of Stella’s mind would monitor those feeds with little additional effort. Marco and George would stand outside the only entrance with their machine guns, but they wouldn’t be needed.
“We should find out what Patrick Mann knows about Senator Ropte,” I told Ava as we headed for the front staircase, which led down to the mansion’s entryway on the main floor. Being in DC so much of the time, the president’s son might have even met Ropte.
Ava touched her ear, which I hadn’t realized before hid an earbud. “I’m already receiving a report from Stella. She’s also alerting the New York cell. We’ll need their help on this.”
“Four hundred Unbounded.” I heaved a sigh.
“That we know of,” Ava corrected.
We’d reached the landing midway to the main floor. “I’d hoped maybe two or three hundred,” I said. “Especially since so many went to prison after Morocco.”
“They’ve been force-breeding a long time.”
; “There’s got to be a way. Even if we can overtake them, four hundred is a lot of people to . . .”
To kill. Mostly scared, disenchanted people like Eden and Fenton, or those who would soon become scared and disenchanted. Or the ones who were blindly loyal, who felt they were destined to be gods by the simple accident of their genes. I didn’t want to hurt any of them, but if it came down to them versus all mortals, there could be no other choice.
“Killing them is—”
An excited bark interrupted whatever Ava was going to say. At the base of the carpeted stairs, Max, a crossbreed of lab and collie, bounced toward us, his nails skittering on the rock floor of the entryway. I didn’t much like the mutt, but he adored me, and his presence meant my niece and nephew weren’t far behind. I felt my mood lighten.
“Go say hi to the kids,” Ava said. “They’ll miss you.”
Meaning she suspected I’d soon be going on a difficult mission. “I can’t. I promised to help Stella.”
“She and Patrick have it covered for now, so take a few minutes.” At the bottom of the stairs as we parted ways, she added, “Oh, and Erin, don’t be late to the meeting.”
As if I’d even dare.
I was petting Max when the kids came running into sight, Kathy, my twelve-year-old niece, in the lead. She had grown taller these past months, suddenly becoming a young woman, with softening angles and bouncing emotions. Her blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail, her blue eyes framed with mascaraed lashes. She came to an abrupt stop at seeing me, and her brother, Spencer, barely avoided crashing into her.
“Aunt Erin, you’re back already!” Spencer shouted, throwing himself at me and making Max bark wildly. At ten, Spencer was still very much a little boy, all bony enthusiasm except for his freckled face that had somehow managed to hold onto a bit of baby fat.
“Shut up!” I ordered the dog, who rewarded my sternness with a wet lick of his rough tongue. I wiped my hand on my pants.
Spencer let go of me and launched himself at Max, burying his face in his golden fur. “You know she hates that, dummy. Better quit or you’ll be out in the doghouse.” He laughed because we didn’t have a doghouse, and Max spent his nights in Spencer’s bedroom. The setup was fortunate, because I wasn’t about to share my space with the dog, though Ritter had a soft spot for the creature.
Kathy looked at me, her eagerness contained but still bright in her eyes. “Dad says you guys got three Emporium agents! And that you got stabbed. What happened?”
“One of the agents didn’t realize I was there to help him, that’s all.” My hand went instinctively to my side, though only a twinge reminded me of what had happened.
“I can’t wait until I can be a Renegade,” Kathy said with a sigh. “And go on ops and meet exciting people.”
“Me too!” Spencer looked up from the dog and grabbed my hand. “We’re going to eat. Come tell us all about it, okay?”
I let him pull me along, glad for a moment that neither child was paying attention to my face, which felt rigid. I didn’t want either of them to become Renegade agents. At eight generations removed from an Unbounded ancestor, Changing was next to an impossibility for them. Except as an extremely rare fluke, Changes didn’t occur after six generations.
So Kathy and Spencer could easily be killed. A wound like I’d received today, or a nick of a poisoned blade, could mean death—would eventually mean death. Luck never held out forever. No, what I wanted was a world where they wouldn’t have to fight the Emporium. Where they could attend a normal school instead of being locked behind tall walls in a mansion, and where no machine guns and rocket launchers were mounted on the roof.
A world where I could give Ritter the baby he wanted without fear that the Emporium would try to take the child for their own purposes. Even with sperm manipulation and oral supplements, there was still a fifty percent chance that any child we had together would be mortal, but I was growing accustomed to the idea of having a child who might not Change. Maybe I could deal with it, when and if the time came. We’d have over thirty years of hope before we knew for sure, and maybe that would be enough. Every day mortals lived and died, reconciled to the short seventy or eighty years allotted them. Ava had adjusted to losing her children and had gone on to have hope in her posterity. Stella was taking that risk now.
Ritter was ready to move forward. Maybe I was almost there.
But first we had to deal with the Emporium, and especially this new threat.
My older brother Chris was in the dining room when we entered, already at the counter where the cook was setting out the food buffet style. Chris’s hair, grown out to his collar, surprised me as it always did, even after several months. He’d worn it short before we’d joined the Renegades, before his wife, Lorrie, had been murdered by the Emporium.
“I see you kids found more than just the dog,” Chris said, throwing a smile in my direction. It was good seeing him smile again. For a long time, I’d wondered if he would ever get over losing Lorrie.
“We didn’t let Max go bug anyone,” Spencer said. “He just missed Erin.”
Said dog was snuffling at my jeans, looking for nonexistent food. I sat on a chair at the long banquet table and scratched his neck. A small clump of hair came out, and I held it out to Spencer without comment. He was responsible for combing the dog, who shed like crazy in the spring.
“Aren’t you going to eat?” Spencer asked me, shoving the knot of hair into his pocket and heading toward the food at the serving counter across the room. “And where is everyone anyway?”
“Things are a little busy tonight, that’s all.” I didn’t answer his question about eating. He knew Unbounded didn’t need to eat, but he couldn’t imagine not wanting to. To be honest, the grilled pork chops inside the domed warmer smelled amazing, and they’d taste even better, but my stomach was tight with worry, so it was better not to bother. Instead, I upped my absorption of the molecules in the air, tasting a hint of pork on my tongue and reveling in the subsequent energy coming through my skin.
Chris came to sit beside me as the children loaded their plates. He didn’t remind them to wash their hands like Lorrie would have. “So,” he said, sitting close to me. “What’s up?”
“A senator and his family were murdered.”
His fork sat by his plate, forgotten. “Stella told me about the Burklaps and the missing families. What else do you know? Is that why Ava called the meeting?”
“We think the man behind the murders replaced Delia Vesey.”
His jaw tightened. “Stella has to stay out of this. The baby—”
“No one will risk Stella, so don’t worry about that.”
The tightness eased. “Good. We can’t lose this baby.” Chris was the father of Stella’s lab-created child, but I knew their relationship had gone far beyond the lab. He was totally and completely in love with her, and despite Stella’s ongoing grief at losing her mortal husband, I suspected she was starting to feel the same for him.
“Yeah . . . uh, about that. When are you going to tell the children? Stella’s already showing. Kathy will guess soon enough that she’s expecting, and then what? It’s getting harder to keep the secret from them. Every time I open my mouth, I’m afraid I’m going to blow it.”
“I know. I just worry about how they’ll react.”
“They love Stella.”
“They miss their mom.” He ran a hand through his hair, the wrinkles around his eyes reminding me that he was mortal, and I would lose him before I physically aged another year. The thought didn’t hit me with as much agony as it once had. It just was.
“They’ll love the baby. It’ll be okay.”
He nodded. “I just . . . things aren’t decided between Stella and me. I-I love her. I have for a long time. I think Lorrie would understand.”
“Tell them.”
The kids came back then, with heaping plates they would devour almost completely. The cook had given up baking or boiling vegetables for them and instead had
a constant variety of raw choices available. Spencer particularly liked the sweet peas, shells and all.
I watched them begin eating, joking and laughing together. It was peaceful, this slice of time where the horrors we experienced often didn’t seem quite real.
Until I thought of Senator Burklap and his family, who would never be eating again. On that lovely note, it was probably time to head up to the meeting.
“Aunt Erin, I—”
I held up a hand, silencing whatever Kathy had been going to say. I sensed a distinct change in the air, one that triggered all my awareness. It took me a few precious seconds to understand what was different, to realize that I was receiving a jumble of thoughts from beyond the mansion. And if I could sense thoughts and life forces outside the electronic grid that protected us from mental assault, we were vulnerable. Unless Ava was holding some kind of unprecedented drill, only the Emporium could have wiggled through our mental protections.
“Down!” I said to the kids, reaching for my gun.
Immediately, Spencer and Kathy dived under the table, no questions asked. The weeks of training and subsequent grounding and household chores had seen to that. Max followed them, his tail between his legs, and Chris shot to his feet, his own gun ready. I faced the door; he faced the window that overlooked the garden.
I felt someone trying to get inside my mind—someone I recognized. Ava. I let her in. Erin, we’re about to have a visitor. She wanted to surprise you, but I didn’t know if . . . Look, don’t shoot anyone in the next two minutes, okay?
I blew out a sigh of relief, but I didn’t put down my gun and I didn’t tell Chris to lower his weapon.
“Who is it, Ava?” I said aloud for Chris’s benefit. “Why shouldn’t we shoot?”
Just don’t.
A soft pop! sounded in my ears, and a woman who appeared to be our friend Mari Jorgenson materialized in the dining room—Mari with her black hair dyed red for her undercover job protecting Patrick Mann. She wasn’t alone. The two men with her appeared to be Keene McIntyre and my younger brother, Jace. Keene’s piercing green eyes, framed by his red hair and beard—also dye jobs—were as mocking as his smile. Jace had let his blond hair grow shaggy, but it looked good with his black leather jacket.
The Takeover Page 6
