The Takeover

by Teyla Branton

  Ritter sauntered to the couch and offered me a hand. “Let’s get some rest.” With his other hand he picked up his duffel.

  I didn’t resist as he led me down a hallway, following Noah, who went on ahead after retrieving my gear from the living room where we’d first arrived. The spacious bedroom she led us to was decorated in bold hues of brown and black. A cast iron chandelier hung from a vaulted ceiling, and the lights were on low, creating a mysterious and intimate atmosphere. But it was the king-sized bed with its plush black quilt and numerous pillows that called my attention.

  I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. “It’s beautiful, Noah.”

  She chuckled. “It’s one of my favorite rooms.” She left us then, promising a warm breakfast in the morning, if we were interested.

  The thick carpet beckoned for bare feet, and I kicked off my shoes, burying my toes into the softness. It wasn’t the getaway Ritter and I had promised ourselves, but it was better than nothing. I’d taken three steps into the room when Ritter dropped his bag with a dangerous-sounding clunk and caught up to me, lifting me into his arms.

  “Finally, we’re alone.”

  “I’m tired,” I protested.

  He freed my hand from my duffel strap and let it fall to the floor. “I know. That’s why I’m going to help you get ready for bed.” His voice was serious, but the slightest smiled tugged at one side of his mouth.

  “I’m worried about Stefan being here,” I said. Actually, worry didn’t begin to touch what I felt. Mind-numbingly terrified, however, came close.

  He set me gently on my feet next to the bed and eased off my long leather jacket. “Because of Jace.”

  “What if Ropte knows? Delia might have told him the truth about me. With her dead, there’s no reason for him not to tell Stefan that it’s really Jace who’s his son.”

  Ritter eased me onto the bed, his hands moving over my body to find my gun, a few knives, a vial of acid. Then he removed my boots, the ballistic knife, and my backup pistol. His hand went to the button on my jeans, opening it and peeling them off me. “Jace is a big boy. It’s time he knew.”

  “Stefan loves his family.”

  “He loves to use his family. He won’t persuade Jace.”

  “Then he won’t let Jace go unless he’s in pieces.”

  “He’ll have to find him first.”

  Ritter stretched out next to me, his lips trailing over my neck and up to my lips. He kissed me long and deep until I moaned softly, my arms curling around him. An instant later, Ritter drew away from me, pulled off his own shirt, and tossed it onto the floor. Instead of coming back to me, he settled onto one of the pillows, yawning. His eyes closed.

  “What?” I protested, now fully awake.

  He cracked one eye. “You said you were tired.” Amusement spilled from the words.

  I laid a finger on his chest, dragging it downward in a lazy spiral. I felt him shiver slightly beneath my touch. “I’m not tired anymore.”

  With a laugh, he rolled on top of me, pinning my mouth beneath his. “Good.” The shield over his thoughts dropped, beckoning me inside where his desire raged as strongly as my own. “Because I know a great way to relieve stress.”

  All thoughts of Jace and Stefan Carrington fled from my mind.

  WHEN WE WOKE THE NEXT morning, limbs entangled, not a single pillow remained on the bed. Back in San Diego we’d be getting up for our four a.m. workout, but here it was nearly seven o’clock, and I felt positively lazy.

  Then I remembered Stefan Carrington and what it would mean to my brother when he knew the truth. Was Jace already in Idaho, eagerly waiting for the op to be over so we could resume our conversation? Probably.

  The others were already in the dining room when we appeared. I was listening to Noah’s new song and was positive it would become a worldwide hit. I was just as positive I’d never be able to mimic her convincingly. But when channeling, I could fight like Ritter, manipulate data at least halfway as well as Stella, and shift like Mari. So why not sing? Still, it seemed more difficult than folding space or knowing how to cut down an opponent. Noah could hit notes that I didn’t know were possible for anyone. Certainly they weren’t for me; I’d tried them while Ritter was in the shower, hoping his own humming blocked out my pitiful attempts.

  Stealing a piece of bacon from the mound on Mari’s plate, I cranked up the volume.

  Ritter gave me a sympathetic smile that told me he guessed my uncertainty. He looked more than fine in the dark suit he wore that would help him fit into whatever situation I’d find myself in—just in case. Knowing he was my backup always gave me more confidence on these solitary ops. And it was at least partially a solitary endeavor, because while the others played decoy for the politicians, I’d be the only one exposed to immediate danger. My blood raced in anticipation. Suddenly, learning Noah’s song didn’t seem so difficult.

  Of course, I couldn’t rule out the possibility a sensing Unbounded might be present at Ropte’s, so I’d need to shield any mental communication I shared with my companions. Channeling Patrick was included in that because while his shield was down, he’d be vulnerable to Emporium attack. I’d have to prevent that possibility, which meant more energy, and that’s where Keene came in—if I needed him. Because I couldn’t afford to be completely drained in case someone caught me in Ropte’s office.

  Ritter, Patrick, and Mari downed more breakfast than I had the will for, chatting casually as if today were like any other. Normally, I’d join them, but lingering thoughts of my brother and his biological father made me anxious. I excused myself and went with Noah to copy her disguise.

  In Noah’s private bathroom that was nearly as large as my guest room and twice as ornate, she sat in front of her lighted mirror and showed me where she added makeup and face sculpting clay. “One of my colleagues in Italy makes this for me,” she said. “Honestly, if it were on the mortal market, she’d make billions. It doesn’t crack or fade or rip, and it looks completely real.”

  I couldn’t even tell where it blended into her skin. “Okay, let me give it a try.” I reached out to Patrick, who was expecting me, so his shield was down. I’m here, I told him. You won’t need to do anything. You won’t even know I’m here. At the luncheon, I’ll put a shield around you when I’m using your ability. I will only need to connect with you every thirty minutes to maintain my disguise.

  Patrick made a mental response, but I was already focusing on the mirror, urging the nanites in my body to recreate my face. I’d learned that changing as little as possible was easiest to maintain. So while Noah’s figure was insanely thin at the waist and her rear end prominent, we’d decided to use a flowing yellow dress she owned to mask our bodily differences and concentrate instead on my face, hair, and coloring.

  “No way,” Noah murmured, staring at the mirror. “Just a little flatter on the nose. There you go. Wider bottom lip.” She shook her head as I obliged. “I knew someone took Patrick’s place for an entire year this way, but I have to admit that part of me didn’t believe someone could really not tell the difference between the fake person and one they loved. I can see I was wrong.”

  I did look like Noah—or the disguise she wore in public. The tiny curls of my hair extended down my back, black but streaked with lighter shades of brown and dark blond. My skin was tinted a dark brown, and I made the nanites copy Noah’s makeup as well: yellow and browns on my eyes, glossy lips, lashes that were triple my usual length. The dress exposed more cleavage than I was used to, but it masked my body well enough that with the changes in my physical features, I had become Noah. I felt exotic and different. Like someone who could woo crowds.

  “People really wear things like this?” I asked of the borrowed dress, raising my arms in a flutter of silk.

  Noah grinned. “Obviously, which is why I have it. Sometimes I like to make a statement. I usually wear this with heels, but you’ll have to do with flats so you’ll be the same height.” She arose from her chair
and disappeared from the bathroom, returning shortly with a pair of bright yellow sandals. “These should do. Our feet don’t look too different.” They weren’t, and I slipped them on with satisfaction.

  “So, would you like to run through the song?” Noah asked.

  Not in a hundred years. “Sure, but I’m not planning on singing.”

  Even her laugh was music. “That’s what I always say, but you’ll be surprised at the ways people have of convincing you.”

  Noah took my hand and led me back through her bedroom to an adjoining sitting room with a computer and an elaborate sound system. “I’ll cue you in.” She handed me a cordless microphone, started the music, and after a few bars said, “Ready, set, and here we go.”

  “You’ll have to drop your shield.”

  “Oh, right.”

  I slid into her mind, releasing Patrick. The nanites should be able to hold their own against my Unbounded metabolism for more than the thirty minutes I’d quoted Patrick, but it paid to be careful. Once a day was usually enough to tell my body not to eject the nanites all together, but changing my face was more complicated. Not for the first time, I wished I could channel more than one other ability at a time.

  I was late coming in on the first words, “I wasn’t prepared for you,” but with a bit of hurry, I caught up to the rest. “You were a friend and you had my love . . . But then you stole away my heart.” I was amazed at the sound. Full and rich and so . . . not me. I felt the desire to keep on singing, to close my eyes and put my heart into it.

  “Louder,” Noah murmured. “Go with it.”

  So I did. Noah hummed along, and when I finished, she smiled. “Very nice. A little more anguish on the chorus, okay? And at the end when she gives her heart, I like to make it more breathy.”

  Part of me wanted to try it from the top, but my more logical side, the part that wasn’t channeling the singer, remembered I had other duties. “Okay,” I said. “I’ll do that. But do you think it’ll pass?” I gnawed off a piece of fingernail as I waited for her response.

  Noah put her hand on her hip. “Honey, you sound more like that recording I gave you than I do. I’m constantly changing things. In fact, I might just add that little ripple you put in the word heart. I like it.”

  “Good. But I’m still hoping you aren’t a big talker, or I’ll have to channel you for your mimicking ability.”

  “Just let me know through the earbuds. I’ll be ready to drop my shield. Now let’s do something with those nails.”

  When at last I was prepared, I went out to face the others. For some time, I’d been aware of their life forces gathering in the living room where we’d first arrived. As I neared it, Patrick emerged, his eyes brightening when he saw me. “Oh, good. They want to leave now, to get into place, but I wanted to take a moment to do this.” He reached for me, pulling me close and pressing his lips against mine.

  “I wouldn’t let Ritter see you doing that,” I said, pulling away from him. “Noah should be right behind me. She was just putting away a few things.”

  Patrick released me instantly, looking chagrined. “Sorry, Erin. Man, I can’t believe it. You really do look like her. You are her. You sound like you, though.” He shook his head with a little frown. “Erin, did you ever think that maybe mortals are right to be afraid of us?”

  “All the time. Or not us, rather, but definitely the Emporium. That’s why we’re in this fight. Otherwise, I’d be on a beach somewhere sipping margaritas with Ritter.”

  He laughed. “Right. Me too.” There was a brief wistfulness in his expression, and I wondered if he ever regretted his decision to become the face of the Unbounded. He’d been kidnapped by the Emporium, almost murdered by a woman he loved, and targeted by newly recruited Hunters who hadn’t been above killing innocent bystanders. I knew I wouldn’t want the job, but Patrick was one of those people who believed sacrificing to help others was not only a worthy endeavor but his duty as a human being. I was happy for whatever joy he might find with Noah.

  Ritter stared at me as I entered the living room. With our connection, he knew it was me, but the transformation was apparently difficult to believe. I grinned and sidled up to him, speaking in my best Noah impersonation, which wasn’t very good, seeing as I wasn’t channeling her, “Hey, handsome. Want a kiss?”

  “Not a chance,” he said, eyes glittering. “Have you seen how scary Erin is?”

  I laughed and switched to my normal voice. “Okay, Your Deathliness, what’s the rundown?” We’d discussed the details at the beginning of breakfast, but Ritter always gave us a summary before we began each op.

  Ritter’s gaze shifted to take in everyone. “Mari, Patrick, and Noah will stay at the safe house we’ll be shifting to until it’s time for the luncheon. The rest of us will check out the area to see how many Unbounded are present. When it’s time for the party, Cort, Noah, and I will remain outside waiting for any signals and listening in on your mics. Erin, Mari, and Patrick will go inside, and at some point, Mari will connect Cort’s bypass to Ropte’s security system while Patrick and Erin distract everyone. Stella will then remotely connect to the bypass and disarm or loop the security cameras. From there, getting into Ropte’s computer will be up to Erin. We don’t know yet if she’ll need to channel Patrick to locate the information inside Ropte’s network, or if at some point she can hand it over to Stella. Depends on his setup.”

  “Do we have a layout yet?” I asked.

  “Should be on your phone.” Ritter looked up as Noah and Patrick entered the room. “Looks like we’re all here. Let’s go.”

  I VISUALLY SCANNED THE BUILDINGS surrounding Ropte’s townhouse. Secret Service was already out in force, and they seemed to be doing a thorough job, even knocking on doors and checking apartments that were facing Ropte’s. Poor Patrick, I thought. If this was the drama that filled all his visits, no wonder he looked wistful.

  While Cort and Ritter did their own setup, Keene and I went for a walk in the streets. The traffic in this area was nothing compared to the rest of DC, but it was still fairly robust. A cool wind played with the fabric of my dress.

  I could feel Keene’s nervousness from his surface thoughts, but I didn’t share his concern. In the past, using his synergistic ability, he’d made me physically lighter, stopped me from falling, helped me transport plutonium, and caused an explosion that took the top off a building. It wasn’t an exact science, and I suspected he’d only scratched the surface of what he could do. This should be easy.

  “I just need to reach farther,” I told him. “So maybe let me see if I can channel your power so I can direct it, instead of you trying to guess what I need.”

  He was silent for a second before saying, “You’d better stay linked with me, then. It’s not easy to keep control. I’ll need to show you how.”

  “All right, but I don’t want anything fancy. I just hope it works the way I want it to.” I reached out to him, only to be met by a mind barrier that had always been strong and was now significantly stronger since his Change. “Keene, you’ll have to drop your shield. Don’t worry. No Unbounded are near, except the ones at Ropte’s, and they’re too far away right now to be a concern.” Sensing Unbounded could mask their life force from me completely, but I’d be looking out for any hint of interruption, and I’d seen nothing for concern. With Keene’s help, I should be able to shield us in all directions but the one we were seeking, even from unseen attackers.

  His shield dropped. “Might as well run through that night with Ropte first,” he said. His sand stream was already showing memories of that night, and I had to concentrate to keep up.

  “Nothing, sorry,” I said minutes later when the scenes rolled to a stop. Except that he was beating himself up inside for not catching sight of Stefan. “He was careful, that’s all,” I told him.

  “Stefan is always careful.” Bitterness filled his voice. “Except where others’ lives are concerned. He and my father have to be made to take responsibility for what they’
ve done.”

  His comment revealed a door I had to open. “What about your father? How does he fit into the Emporium’s plans?” Keene and Cort’s biological father, Tihalt McIntyre, was the third member of the Emporium Triad. He shared Cort’s ability to see how things worked on an atomic level and, from what I understood, was the core of the Emporium’s scientific research and progress.

  “My father . . .” Keene stopped walking and faced me. “It’s because of my father’s willingness to hurt others that the Emporium has the strength it does today. Without him, they wouldn’t own so many patents or businesses. And they wouldn’t have been able to increase their Unbounded numbers as they have. I used to think he turned a blind eye to what they did to mortals, but I realized before I left that he knew very well but didn’t care. Because to him mortals are like animals or machines.”

  Including his own son—Keene didn’t need to say it. I could see it in his mind.

  For years, we’d been playing catch-up with the Emporium’s nanites, inventions, and genetic manipulations. This was in large part because of the lines we refused to cross, lines the Emporium gleefully ran over and crushed into bits with their razor-edged heels. But the knowledge and advancements that allowed them to harm so many people, even their own Unbounded, came directly from Tihalt, the brains of the Triad.

  “I’m sorry,” I said to Keene, who had once again instinctively pulled his shield tightly around him, this time with me still inside. I tried not to look at his private thoughts, but despite my attempt, I caught a glimpse of a woman I knew was his mother. She’d been “taken care of” years ago by his father after she’d fallen ill. Keene once believed Tihalt had done it out of compassion, but some months back he’d recognized a stark truth: Tihalt hadn’t wanted Keene to be around her or to be associated with her weakness.

  Guiltily, I pulled my thoughts away from Keene’s to say, “I think I understand at least a little. When I’d thought Stefan was my father, the weight of responsibility felt . . . impossibly heavy, like a black mark on my family that I could never erase or atone for.” A burden Jace would now bear once he knew the truth.