Fated: The Epic Finale (Talented Saga Book 8)
Page 27
I wasn’t sure how to finish the sentence. Was it just that Phi looked up to me? Maybe Phi and Alpha admired me because I’d stood up to Mac? Maybe….
Erik held up his hand, and I threaded my fingers with his. He pulled me close again and kissed me softly.
“I think we need to have another talk with Alpha,” he murmured after several minutes. “There’s something—something besides the fact you are related—that she’s holding back.”
“Yeah? And you think if I ask her nicely, she’ll spill her guts?” I teased. “Or you’re suggesting we interrogate her? Dive into her mind and rip the answers from her head?”
His mouth moved over to my collarbone, his lips just below my ear. Erik’s breath on the sensitive skin sent a pleasant shiver through me.
“If she’s anything like her brother,” he whispered. “Alpha will say and do anything you want.”
It was a dangerous power to have over another. Particularly without even trying. Thinking of Brand’s comment about my talents in Gretchen’s control, I hated to admit that he’d made a good point. More than that, I hated that she sort of already had my abilities because she had my blood.
Finally, I understood why she really needed me. Not just because her supply of my genetic material was likely dwindling. Gretchen needed someone to wield my powers. Having the ability to do something and actually doing it were very different things. Gracia was proof of that. In theory, she was genetically superior to me. But what good was the talent and all that power when she didn’t know how to use or control it? Gretchen could inject as many people as she liked with my talent signature, and she’d still never find someone as proficient at manipulation.
How does she plan to get me to go along her power trip? I wondered.
Gretchen McDonough was playing the long game. She had a plan. She’d also have a plan B. Hell, she probably had an entire alphabet of them. Somehow, we just needed to stay one step ahead of her. Trouble was, I had a horrible feeling we were already ten steps behind.
Instead of falling further into analysis mode, I let the thoughts be overcome by the feeling of Erik’s bare skin against mine. If this was the last time I would ever be with him, I wanted to fully experience every moment.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Erik
Talia and I stayed in the treehouse that night. She slept. Mostly, I watched her sleeping. My newfound insomnia could’ve been a result of the world going to hell or my mind descending into madness, it was impossible to pinpoint.
I thought a lot about my mother’s family, both her ancestors and descendants. My family, I realized. My mother, Lillian Aris, had been part of the Delmore line. She was a descendant of Rudolph Delmore and Crystal Karmine, whose daughter Millie married Jordan Aris. None of the names in the older generations were familiar, though I thought Crystal Karmine might be part of the Karmine Pharmaceutical dynasty.
Are there a bunch of relatives out there that I never knew existed?
Did it matter? Not really. I had family. A father, two brothers, and Talia. Alex, too, sort of. Still, maybe finding my mother’s relatives would bring me closer to her memory. It was often hard to think about my mother. She’d died because of me. Had Danbury McDonough known who I was when he’d sent his retrieval team after me? That I was a mimic? Did he know who my mother was?
With the sky still blanketed in stars, I woke Talia and we flew back to the house. We dressed quietly. Talia was still groggy from sleep, and I was still hung up on thoughts of my mother. By the time we reached Ian’s study, everyone else involved with the mission was already waiting, including Michael Tanaka. His hologram was there, anyway.
“You’re late, kid,” Miles called over the rim of his coffee mug.
Talia scoffed. “No way. We have,” she searched the room for a clock, eyes finally landing on an antique monstrosity in the corner, “two minutes.”
Brand glared as he walked by on the way to the coffee bar Robo Gentry had set up. “Too busy sleeping in while the rest of us were here double-checking intel so you don’t die on your mission?” he sneered.
“Brand,” Ian warned. He didn’t look up from his desk.
My girlfriend’s smile was so wide that I wondered if her cheeks hurt from the effort. “Actually, I was busy defiling your love nest. But thanks for asking.”
All the color drained from Brand’s face. Miles spit hot coffee all over Janelle Longpre, who’d arrived at the palace to join our mission while Tals and I were away. Ian looked up and raised an eyebrow. It was hard to say who was most embarrassed in that moment: Brand, Ian, or Penny.
“Is that why you spend so much time out there, Penelope?” Ian asked.
The question had tumbled from his mouth without thinking. Penny’s hand was frozen in midair, a piece of toast clutched between her fingers.
“No. Don’t answer that.” Ian shook his head vehemently. “Let’s just get started.”
The briefing last over three hours. It wasn’t that long yet felt like forever. Of those in attendance, only Talia, Miles, Janelle, Brand, and I were going to New Mexico. Talia and I had chosen the team from the limited group of individuals who were both trusted by Ian and uninjured. It was a small pool of candidates, but I was mostly happy with the team.
Brand, though one of my girlfriend’s least favorite people, would do anything to keep her alive and out of enemy hands. Plus, Perception Manipulators were always handy on a covert mission. Miles was the best pilot I knew and someone I trusted implicitly. Janelle had been Talia’s choice, which wasn’t unexpected. She’d been with Ian and the Coalition for a long time and fought TOXIC alongside us.
We’d all agreed it wasn’t a great idea for Penny to go out on a mission so soon after one of her episodes. Reluctantly, she agreed to run comms from the estate. Epsilon and Kenly would assist her, since both planned to live in the crypto bank until they finished decrypting all of Danbury McDonough’s files. Despite how helpful they’d been in the fight against Sons of After, enlisting any of the Clearwood children for the actual mission wasn’t an option. No one argued against the decision, though it was clear Alpha would’ve liked to go.
“It’s best for you to stay here,” Talia told her. “Your brother, Alex, even Crane—they all need protection.”
Alpha didn’t protest or complain. She also didn’t mention the fact Crane had a houseful of soldiers and UNITED agents at his beck and call. Instead, Alpha nodded.
“Of course,” she agreed. “Whatever you believe is best.”
There wasn’t any sarcasm in her answer. She didn’t even use a snarky tone.
“Are you sure that you guys are related?” I asked my girlfriend.
Across the room, Penny laughed. “Yeah, Talia. She’s far more obedient than you are. Maybe we picked the wrong family member to be friends with.”
“I hugely dislike the two of you ganging up on me,” Tals sent, the corner of her lips twitching.
The only point of contention with our mission plan came when Kip asked to go. It was almost a demand, surprising all of us.
“You know I’d be an asset,” he pointed out.
It was true; a Teleporter was always an asset. At least, it had seemed to be in my short acquaintance with the one and only Teleporter I’d ever met. When it came down to it, Kip really had just as much right as any of us to go after Nightshade. After all, the organization was helping Gretchen hunt him.
“You’re a child,” Talia said flatly. “You’re not going.”
“We’re like the same age,” Kip replied.
My girlfriend glanced at me, and I shrugged. “He’s got you there.”
“It’s different,” she insisted. Talia crossed her arms over her chest defensively. “We’re different.”
“How so?” Kip demanded.
Even Ian—who knew better than most that Talia had never really been a child—looked interested in the reasoning she’d come up with.
“For one, I’m a trained assassin,” my girlfriend sputtered. She co
uldn’t seem to find anything else to say, and there was no number two reason to follow up the first.
“This is a rescue, not a hit,” Kip argued stubbornly.
Talia sighed and turned to me. A moment too late, she realized I wasn’t on her side. “Really? You think it’s a good idea to bring an untrained civilian on a risky mission?”
“He’s a Teleporter, Tals,” I said. Honestly, it was that simple for me. “I vote that he comes with us.”
“No.” Talia shook her head. “We aren’t voting. He’s my responsibility, and I say no.”
“I agree with Talia,” Brand interjected. “The kid has no training. Teleportation won’t help him in an ambush.”
“It would help him,” Janelle pointed out. “Just not the rest of us.”
Everyone turned to Miles for his input. Even Talia, despite her insistence that this wasn’t a democracy.
“Look,” Miles began, turning to face Kip. “You seem like a nice kid. No offense, but my issue is that we don’t know if we can truly trust you. The rest of us,” he made a circle with his finger meant to encompass everyone else in the study, “we’ve been through it together. All I know about you is that you’re from some island where Little Miss Jailbird crash-landed.”
“Do you trust him?” I asked Talia aloud.
My girlfriend rolled her eyes and scowled at me. “That’s not my issue.”
“Do you trust Kip?” I repeated.
“Yes,” she said, her tone annoyed. “Okay? I do trust him. I still don’t think he should come to New Mexico.”
I turned to Kip. “Can you fight?”
“Every male on Pelia is taught survival skills,” he replied, sounding more than a little offended.
Kip’s reaction was nothing compared to Emma’s. She’d been silent the entire briefing, more interested in listening to the conversation than contributing. That ended with her boyfriend’s comment. Emma smacked Kip on the arm hard enough that he winced. With a Talia-worthy glare, she focused on him so intently that even I would’ve backed away.
“Every male?” she demanded. “I’m sorry, were there no girls in your classes? Because I was one of twelve females in mine.” Emma straightened her back and squared him with a piercing gaze to drive the point home. “I might not be able to kill a man with my bare hands, but I’m not helpless.”
Kip’s expression was like a frightened deer. He glanced around the study as if seeking support. Or an exit. It could’ve been either. Unfortunately, he made the mistake of looking at Tals first. Her violet eyes were narrowed. Still, Talia was more teasing than angry when she challenged him.
“Does Pelia not believe girls are worth training? Or is that just you?” Only a few of us, the ones closest to Talia, would’ve caught the amusement dancing in her expression.
When Kip turned to me, no blood remained in his face.
“Sorry, man,” I said, holding up my hands. “Talia is the kill-a-man-with-her-bare-hands type. You’re on your own.”
“I was just saying that I can fight,” Kip stammered, glancing between Emma and Talia. “So can Em.”
“No.” Four voices spoke in unison, one of them mine.
“Emma isn’t going,” I added, in case our chorus wasn’t clear.
“Why not?” Emma asked. The question wasn’t directed to anyone in particular.
Unlike Kip, Emma didn’t actually want to go to New Mexico. She only asked because everyone was against the idea.
“You’re definitely too young,” Tals told her. Though her voice was firm, Talia’s voice wasn’t unkind.
“Your talents would be more useful here,” I added. “No one’s going to attack the estate unless they think Ian’s here. With you around, no one will ever know since his signature will be hidden.”
Strictly speaking, it wasn’t entirely the truth. The sheer size of the estate made it impossible for Emma to block the whole place at all times. The energy required for that would drain her too quickly. But Emma could stay close to him and concentrate her power, so it wasn’t entirely a placating statement. Though, I wasn’t so sure about the second part of that equation. Emma was so new to actively using her abilities, I wasn’t sure how adept she’d be at using them purposefully.
“I want to help,” she answered, her expression brightening. Emma nodded enthusiastically, relieved I’d given her way to assist without thrusting herself in the line of fire.
Ian smiled at her indulgently, though the shrewd gleam in his eye suggested that he really did believe she could be useful.
“I could really use a girl with your talents,” he added.
“So, it’s settled?” I caught Talia’s eye.
She sighed dramatically. Then, to everyone’s surprise, my girlfriend’s gaze landed on the person whose opinion she valued least.
“What do you think?” she asked Brand.
Penny’s boyfriend focused on Kip and mulled it over.
“You will follow orders,” he said finally. “My orders. Talia might be the loudest and the bossiest, but I am in charge.”
“Um, that wasn’t the deal,” Talia retorted. She shot Ian an intense glare—the one she only used when she desperately wanted to compel someone but knew she really shouldn’t. “You said it was my mission.”
“I said I had a mission for you, not that it was yours,” he replied calmly. “This isn’t up for a discussion or a vote. Brand will lead the mission. He’s the most familiar with the intel and the least…” Ian squinted as he wracked his brain for the right words “…emotionally motivated.”
My snort quickly morphed into a cough. Penny shot an icy glare my way. It sounded to me like Ian was calling his protégé heartless, but Brand clearly thought it was a compliment.
Flashing Talia a triumphant grin, he returned to Kip and his lecture. “As I was saying, you follow my orders. No questions. No talking back. No opinions of your own. Do you understand?”
Kip nodded jerkily.
“Then you can come,” Brand said. “We leave at nine.”
The meeting broke up after that. Penny left for the crypto bank to join Epsilon and Kenly. Kip and Emma wandered toward their rooms. Brand, Miles, and Janelle stayed with Ian for his morning briefings from various senators and military leaders. Tanaka, who’d shared intel during our meeting but stayed out of the bickering, returned to overseeing evacuations throughout Asia.
“I want to have breakfast with Alex,” Tals announced as we left the study together.
“Want to talk to Alpha first?” I nodded toward the Clearwood girl walking up ahead of us beside Penny. “She’s right there.”
Talia sighed. “Yeah. Guess we better.”
Alpha overheard and turned. She gave us a shy smile.
“Would you mind if we spoke upstairs, maybe in the same room where we met with President Crane last night?” she asked. “I would prefer to let the others rest, unless you need them as well?”
Personally, I thought talking to all the Clearwood children at once was more efficient. They hadn’t so much lied before as skirted the truth. In fairness, we’d never asked the nature of their abilities. I’d just assumed none of them were born Talented. In Phi’s case, at least, that was incorrect.
Before I could weigh in, Talia answered. “Just the three of us is good.”
We relocated upstairs. When Talia sat on a sofa, I chose an armchair. I didn’t want Alpha to feel like we were ganging up on her. The Clearwood girl looked uncertainly between me and my girlfriend. Tals gestured to the opposite end of the couch and Alpha hurried to sit. Folding her hands in her lap, she gazed at them.
Proving he was as competent as advertised, Robo Gentry appeared with coffee, tea, and muffins and set them on the table in the center of our sitting area.
“Perhaps I might suggest—“
“No, thank you,” Talia interrupted. “This is great, it’s all we need.”
“He’s everywhere at once and always knows things,” Tals sent. She shivered, like the droid gave her the chills.r />
Alpha chuckled softly as Robo Gentry bowed and exited the room. Talia and I exchanged glances, passing an unspoken agreement to avoid side conversations during our talk with Alpha. The girl was mentally tuned in. I wasn’t sure if was because her abilities were so strong or because she couldn’t entirely control them. Or both. Most likely both.
“You want to know about the Clearwood Institute,” Alpha guessed, twisting her hands in her lap. “Where would you like me to begin?”
“Let’s start with how you ended up at the institute,” I answered.
“Of course.” Alpha nodded. “I was born Talented.” She started to reach for the china teapot but changed her mind at the last second. With a deep breath, she continued. “I am a Telekinetic naturally. At five, I reported for testing and was declared Talented. That was eleven years ago.”
“Did you come to the McDonough School originally?” Talia asked. Alpha reached again for the tray, this time eyeing the muffins hungrily. And again, she let her hand fall before taking anything.
Alpha looked first to Talia and then to me. “No, I was taken directly to the Clearwood Institute on Collection Day. They told me that my talent was too weak to be cultivated normally, but I had been selected for enhancement. I became a test subject,” she stated flatly.
Her emotions were even, detached. As though she’d learned to distance herself from all she’d been through. Alpha’s stomach grumbled.
“You should eat,” Talia insisted, pushing the tray toward Alpha.
“Thank you.” Snatching an apple muffin, she devoured it in three bites and wiped her mouth with a napkin. “I apologize. The month on our own was very difficult.”
“You’re getting enough to eat here, right? I can ask the droid to make something else if you’re still hungry,” Talia offered.
“No, thank you.”
So polite. I thought. So…obedient.
“Do you know how many kids were in your…year?” Talia asked, striving for a delicate way to word the question.