by Sophie Davis
“Of course, thank you for taking care of that,” Crane replied.
Our next patient was a man who’d lost his arm in a riot in St. Louis. He was clearly in pain, but his eyes lit up when he saw Crane. The man shifted in his bed to sit up straighter.
“Mr. President?” the man asked. His tone conveyed that he wasn’t sure whether it the drugs were making him hallucinate Ian Crane in his hospital room, or if the leader was truly there.
Crane extended his hand. “Mr. Douglas, it is nice to meet you.” Gesturing to Erik and me, he added, “These are my associates.” Crane chuckled. “Bodyguards, if I’m being precise.”
Mr. Douglas smiled at us but showed no signs of recognition. Crane’s magic is working, I thought.
“Can you tell me what happened?” Crane asked. He nodded toward the bandaged stump that had been Mr. Douglass’ left arm.
The man looked down at his missing appendage, his expression falling.
“I took my family to watch the vote at City Center. My daughter is only seven, so she’s never seen one before, you know? My son’s eleven, but he doesn’t remember the last time. He was too young.” Mr. Douglass swallowed thickly, tears glistening in his eyes. “Biggest mistake I’ve ever made.”
I wanted to comfort him, provide him some sort of relief, if even for a short time. I tried to catch Crane’s eye but couldn’t. So, I held off.
“My children aren’t Talented,” Douglas continued unevenly. “They were just protecting me because I am.” The tears fell down his stubbly cheeks. “I can’t believe they’re gone.”
It took a tremendous amount of willpower to hold back my own tears. When Douglas broke down completely, I didn’t hold back my talents. The change in his demeanor was gradual as calm spread through him like sunshine illuminating the shadows.
“Careful, Tals,” Erik sent. “Don’t take too much of his grief. It will cripple you.”
I knew the risks better than Erik did. But Erik knew me better than I did. He understood I often didn’t understand my limits, or simply didn’t care. I used my powers with reckless abandon and frequently paid for crossing the line.
Sort of like Penny paid for taking on so much responsibility, I thought.
Crane gave me a sad smile as he shook his head. He was also worried I was going to consume too much pain and grief and sorrow. In turn, the emotions would consume me.
“Do you know who attacked you and your family?” Crane asked once Mr. Douglass had collected himself.
“They were just norms.” The man shrugged. “One of them had been sitting at the table next to us. Even offered us his sugar for my coffee. Then the vote was announced, and he learned I was Talented. The guy just turned on me.”
“How did he know?” I blurted out the question without thinking.
Mr. Douglas wasn’t a particularly strong Talent. I felt his power, but it was subtle. More like a tickle at the base of my spine, as opposed to overwhelming allure of someone like Alex or Alpha.
The man shook his head. “Couldn’t say. I used to work for TOXIC, before the Lyons girl rained hellfire on D.C.” He smiled, and I blanched.
Hellfire? That seems a little strong, I thought.
“I wasn’t big time or anything. I worked border patrol between Missouri and Iowa. After TOXIC fell, I went through the tests to prove I hadn’t been infected with the creation drug.” Douglas sighed heavily. “Went back to work a week after you became president, sir. A few norms were there, and we worked side-by-side. Never had a problem.”
“Is it possible that your attacker saw you at the border?” Crane asked.
“Could be. I honestly can’t say. So many people come through in a day, I only remember the oddballs,” Douglas admitted.
Crane looked at us and raised an eyebrow. Erik and I both shook our heads. Crane thanked Mr. Douglas for his time, and we trooped out of his room. When we returned to the hallway, Nurse Carroll was waiting to escort our trio to the next patient. The nurse immediately continued to drone on about life-saving measures and all the incredible tech at the hospital.
“Let go, Natalia,” Crane said under his breath.
It was a command. Using my full name made that very apparent.
“Tals, stop,” Erik snapped inside my head.
With the two of them barking orders at me, I felt like a disobedient child.
“He needs my help,” I hissed back to both men.
“The other patients do, too. All the Talented out there fighting for their lives need your help, too, Natalia,” Crane argued. His inky blue-black gaze was hard when it landed on me. “Right now, I need you at your best. I need you to do what you do best.”
“Kill.” The single word shot from my lips like a bullet. I hadn’t meant to say it, but we all knew that was my best skill. It was what I’d been trained to do after all.
Crane stopped walking and stepped in front of me. He placed his hands on my shoulders. “Hunt, Talia. I need you to hunt down the people threatening our survival. I need you to find Gretchen McDonough and stop her before she takes any more steps in her grand plan.”
“And what is her grand plan, Crane?” I asked, exasperated and on the verge of losing it. I was still siphoning Mr. Douglas’ pain, both physical and emotional. Like Erik predicted, it was crushing me.
“I only have a theory,” he admitted.
Erik’s hand was on my waist. Nurse Carroll had stopped, too. She was still talking as though oblivious to our conversation. She truly seemed to be, thanks to Crane’s manipulation.
The invisible string that connected me to Mr. Douglas began to fray. Erik’s doing, of course.
“What’s your theory about Gretchen?” Erik prompted Ian.
“I believe she used Nightshade to buy the treaty vote,” Crane finally replied. “Once she has our kind in seclusion, confined in known locations that she can attack with her Privileged army, she will offer the Talented the option to join her. Our kind is in chaos. I am barely holding on to my interim presidency. UNITED is in disarray without Victoria. We’ve already lost five of our council.” Flames twisted in Crane’s midnight eyes. “Many will join her, Talia. The Talented are angry. People like Mr. Douglas, those who have lost family members, they’ll join her to get revenge on the norms.”
I shook my head vehemently. “No, she’s crazy. People won’t follow her.”
Even as I said the words, I knew they weren’t true. Gretchen was using the same tactics that Mac had used to bring me into the fold. He’d killed my parents and blamed the Coalition, and then given me the option for revenge.
I’d opted in without a second thought.
“All of this…it’s what she wanted,” I said softly. “She wants the Talented and the norms fighting to deepen the divide.”
Mr. Douglas’ emotions were no more than a trickle. Erik knew better than to sever the tie in one clean slice. Not for my benefit but for the man who’d lost his family. The despair that had felt like an elephant on my chest was no longer present. My tears dried up and a renewed determination hardened my soul.
“You think she’s behind the kidnappings, don’t you?” I demanded. “You think Gretchen hired Nightshade. That it wasn’t the Sons of After.”
“Linthicum seems to think it’s Sons of After,” Erik pointed out.
For a long time, Crane and I stared at one another. I considered reading his mind. It would’ve been easy. He probably would’ve let me. But the trouble with reading a mind like Crane’s—a mind full of dark memories and personal demons—was it couldn’t be unread. It would be impossible to forget.
“I think Gretchen intends to birth order from chaos,” Crane said finally.
“Send a team to get the hostages,” I spat, biting off each word.
“Tals….” Erik sent.
“You know it’s the right thing to do,” I shot back.
“No, I know you feel helpless and you’re desperate to do something.”
Crane couldn’t hear our conversation, but it was obvio
us from our heated glares and tense body language that we were fighting.
“Mr. President?” Nurse Carroll called cheerily.
“What?” Crane, Erik, and I snapped in unison.
“Frederick Kraft was just admitted.”
Chapter Twenty
Erik
Unlike with Bryn, we weren’t pleasantly surprised when we entered Frederick’s hospital room. He was barely alive according to the monitors and not at all alert. Aside from a few scrapes on his face, there were no visible injuries. Still, Frederick looked so fragile beneath the thin hospital blanket. I sat on one side of the bed, Tals on the other. Ian stayed in the hallway to speak with the two medics who’d flown with Frederick from California.
There was a lot of talk about “keeping Frederick comfortable” and “extensive internal damage”. Neither medic knew how he’d sustained his injuries, only that he was found in the water near the wreckage of a hovercraft.
Henri was still missing in action. No one was even certain that he’d actually left London with Frederick. Comm channels were being jammed—I assumed it was one of the groups after us and not a coincidence—and it was becoming harder and harder to reach people.
“Brand may know more,” Ian said when he joined us inside the hospital room. “He was on the Isle all night, so he has a better handle on the rescue and recovery efforts.”
Tals’ teary gaze flitted to me briefly before focusing on Ian. She cleared her throat.
“There’s a little boy…,” she began, uncharacteristically nervous. “He came from the McDonough School with us.” Talia trailed off, biting her lower lip.
She’s having second thoughts. My heart twisted for Tals.
My girlfriend wanted to save Frederick’s life and knew Phi was the best chance to do so. Probably his only chance. And yet, faced with the actual deed, Talia wasn’t sure she could go through with it. To her, asking Phi to heal just one person in a hospital of thousands of injured and dying felt wrong.
“He can heal,” I said to save Tals the trouble.
That got Ian’s attention. “Really?” Realization sparked in his dark eyes. “Is that why you had Frederick transferred?”
“Yeah,” I admitted.
“What were we supposed to do?” Talia demanded. “Let him die? You heard the medics. Dr. Patel told us the same thing earlier. Frederick might not live until the end of the day. We don’t know where Henri is. We can’t just sit here and do nothing. Our tears won’t make him better, but Phi can.”
The look on Ian’s face mirrored the pain in my soul. He put a hand on Talia’s shoulder. “I understand how you feel. I do. But you must realize that healing is a very, very slippery slope.”
“I do,” she said stubbornly.
Ian’s expression turned impassive as he glanced between us. I didn’t look into his mind, I didn’t need to. No matter his personal and ethical views on the subject, he wouldn’t forbid us from asking Phi to heal Frederick. He could deny Talia nothing. Ian also knew better than to try and stop either of us once we made a decision. Still, I found myself holding my breath as I waited for him to say something. I respected Ian and cared about his opinion of me.
What’s more important, Ian’s opinion or Frederick’s life?
It should’ve been an easy answer. It was. Though, only in a way. Of course, one man’s life mattered more than another’s opinion. Like Talia, I would never forgive myself if we didn’t ask Phi to heal Frederick. Still, it wasn’t for us to decide who lived and who died.
“Frederick’s vitals are stable enough for now,” Ian began.
Talia opened her mouth to protest, but he stopped her with a pointed look.
“For now,” he repeated. “We have a few hours. Let’s see if there’s another solution.”
“But Dr. Patel—” Talia started to say.
“Doesn’t know everything,” Ian interrupted. “He’s a brilliant doctor, but trauma isn’t his specialty.” He shot meaningful glances at Tals and then me. “Let the doctors here at least take a look at him first. If they can’t do anything more for Frederick, I won’t stop you.” A small smile crossed his face and he amended the concession. “At least, I won’t try to stop you. Fair?”
“Do you really think a second opinion is going to change anything?” I asked, annoyed but trying to hide it.
“I honestly don’t know,” Ian conceded. “But I do know we can keep him alive for a few hours while we find out.”
“What do you think?” I asked Talia.
“I think if Frederick dies before….” A sob welled up in her throat and she nearly choked on her grief.
“We can keep him alive for a few hours,” Ian repeated firmly.
“You can’t promise that,” I challenged.
“With our resources, we can keep his heart beating indefinitely,” Ian said carefully.
While that was true, it wasn’t Frederick’s heart I was worried about. It was his brain functions that concerned me. Once those started breaking down, the process couldn’t be reversed. Then, even if Phi healed his body, it wouldn’t matter.
The sound of a throat clearing in the doorway drew all our attention toward a newcomer—an older woman wearing clean scrubs and a tired smile. Assuming Talia and I were Ian’s security, the woman gave us a quick nod but barely glanced at our faces.
“Dr. Icaria, thank you for coming so quickly,” Ian said by way of greeting.
“Of course. I reviewed Mr. Kraft’s medical file from West Bank, but I would like to examine him myself. Do you mind waiting in the hallway?” Dr. Icaria asked.
“I’ll be right outside,” Ian told her, starting for the door.
Tals and I followed, albeit reluctantly. Neither of us wanted to let Frederick out of our sight, even for only a few minutes.
Nurses, doctors, and military personnel hurried up and down the corridors of intensive care. Most acknowledged Ian in some way—a quick nod or a salute—but not one recognized Talia or me. After my month of celebrity, being just another face in the crowd was nice.
The three of us didn’t speak as we waited for Dr. Icaria to call us back inside Frederick’s room. There was nothing left to say. Talia’s gaze kept darting nervously back and forth between the ends of the hallway. Her anxiety wasn’t helping my own.
She’s searching for something, I realized.
“Where is he?” I sent.
“Not sure,” she replied. “There are too many people, too many strong Talents. Three areas of the hospital have extremely high concentrations of energy. I’m guessing Phi is in one of them.”
“President Crane?” Dr. Icaria called.
All three of us looked up.
“May I speak with you privately?”
“You can speak to all of us,” Talia interjected pointedly.
“This matter is—“ Dr. Icaria started to say.
“Our business,” I finished for her.
The doctor looked understandably confused and extremely miffed. Maybe being just another face in the crowd wasn’t that great after all. At least when people recognized me, they didn’t try to shut me out of important conversations about my friends.
“Why don’t we all speak inside the room?” Ian offered, sounding very diplomatic.
Dr. Icaria wasn’t pleased, but she also wasn’t going to argue with the President. Once inside, Ian closed the door. The doctor gasped, and I realized he’d dropped the perception manipulation.
“What’s going on?” Dr. Icaria demanded.
“It’s a long story that none of us have time for,” I told her.
Dr. Icaria opened and closed her mouth several times. Finally, she nodded.
“Fine.” She turned to Ian. “I agree with Dr. Patel’s assessment; the internal damage is extensive. At West Bank, they were able to stop the internal bleeding and stabilize Mr. Kraft’s vitals.”
“Can you help him or not?” I snapped, fighting the urge to shake answers from the doctor to speed up the conversation.
Exhausti
on always made me short-tempered, and I hadn’t slept at all the previous night.
“I can try,” Dr. Icaria said cautiously. “There are a few treatments that might help Mr. Kraft. But,” she held up a finger in warning, “there’s no guarantee. It could potentially worsen his condition.”
“How much worse can he really get?” Talia asked.
“It is extremely unlikely that Mr. Kraft will ever recover on his own.” Dr. Icaria looked at each of us. “Though, there’s always a small chance. Talented generally heal faster and differently from those born without abilities, so I am not ruling out the possibility that he may pull through. Every minute he breathes without the aid of technology, the patient’s chances improve.”
“And some of these experimental treatments could kill him? Is that what you’re saying?” I asked, only slight less hostile than before.
“Yes, Agent Kelley. That is exactly what I’m saying.”
“I’m finding Phi,” Talia sent. Without an audible word, she spun on her heel and stalked from Frederick’s hospital room.
I ran after my girlfriend. She was right. It was time for some non-medical intervention. Maybe it was wrong to ask this of Phi when so many others in that same hospital were probably in danger of dying as well, but I could live with that on my conscience.
“Pediatric wing,” Ian announced when he caught up with us. “Follow me.”
He didn’t try to talk us out of our decision. Nurse Carrol insisted Ian had other victims who needed his attention, but he waved her off and said there would be time for that later. We found the pediatric wing easily. Phi, Delta, Zeta, and Theta were assigned to a large suite. It was usually meant for two, but they’d apparently requested to stay together. Only the twins were there when we arrived.
“Where’s Phi?” I asked. Belatedly, I realized I should’ve started with something a little less abrasive. Like “hi” or “how are you?”.
The twins exchanged uneasy glances.
“What?” Talia demanded.
Delta averted his eyes to his lap, where he pulled at the corner of his hospital gown. “Testing,” he muttered.
