by Jena Leigh
Their negotiations were over before they’d even begun. The Director wasn’t here to listen to their arguments. She was here to deliver a verdict.
Dana took a sip of her coffee. “And what’s to stop it from happening again?”
Cil twisted the napkin in her lap. “Nothing,” she said.
“Cecilia—” Grayson began.
“No, John. Let me speak.” Cil leaned forward in her seat. “Masterson wants Alex for something, it’s true, but he also wants her free. If he wanted her under Agency control, he would have delivered her to you himself.”
“Which is just another argument in the Agency’s favor, Cecilia,” said Dana. “The last thing we can afford is to give that sociopath what he wants. If he doesn’t want Alexandra under the Agency’s protection, then that’s exactly where she ought to be.”
Cil raised an eyebrow. “You really aren’t that stupid, are you?”
“Cil,” Grayson said quietly.
He didn’t get it.
Dana was beyond reasoning with. They weren’t here to plead Alex’s case. The Agency wanted Alex, and this public meeting was just Dana’s way of ensuring that they wouldn’t cause a scene when she made her demands.
“I beg your pardon?” Dana’s voice was dangerously calm.
“I said,” Cil raised her own voice to the point that she attracted curious stares from the nearby tables. “Are you really so stupid as to think that Masterson will let you take Alex?”
There was a moment of stunned silence.
“If you even think about taking my niece into custody,” Cil continued, “I can guarantee that you won’t like the consequences. Masterson has already proven that he will go to great lengths to get what he wants. And if what he wants is Alex, then God help anyone who stands in his way.”
And God help her, because she must be crazy. She was actually using Samuel’s sick actions to support her argument to keep Alex free.
Unfortunately, it was the only play she had left.
She just prayed Grayson would decide to back her up.
He shifted slightly in his seat, clearing his throat. “Cil’s right, Dana. There’s no point in squabbling over Alex’s freedom so long as Masterson still poses a threat. Neither of us are currently in a position to stop him from getting what he wants, and you know it. The best thing we could be doing right now is preparing Alex to stand against him, in the event that we are unable to derail the future he has planned. However, if you want the death of dozens of agents on your head when he comes for her, then by all means, make that call.”
Cil exhaled slowly.
Grayson got to his feet. “But know this—it won’t just be Masterson coming after you. If you touch a hair on that girl’s head, you’ll have a war on your hands.”
Dana’s jaw worked as she digested his words.
A fair-haired waitress appeared with a tray of drinks and stood awkwardly on the step behind Grayson.
“Oh, for God’s sake, Jonathan,” Dana huffed. “Sit down.”
He didn’t move.
Dana sighed. “She’ll remain in your care for the time being,” she said. “But only conditionally.”
Cil and Grayson exchanged a glance.
Conditionally?
Grayson slid back into his seat and the waitress stepped forward to place their drinks on the table before them. “And what might those conditions be, Dana?”
The table fell silent until the waitress finished and once again disappeared.
“There’s still the matter of Alex’s training to consider,” said Dana, stirring a spoonful of sugar into her coffee. “She needs to be brought under control, one way or another. If you won’t let us handle the situation, then you will be held responsible for the development of her abilities. She’s still a serious risk to the general population. And it’s not just the safety of the norms we need to consider, it’s the risk of our secret going public in a very big, potentially nasty way.”
“The norms have always seen exactly what they wanted to,” Grayson argued. He waited for a passing busboy to move further out of earshot. “Even the largest public demonstration of a Variant ability can easily be written off as nothing more than an accident or a natural disaster.”
Dana shook her head. “If there’s ever been a Variant the norms might notice, it’s Alexandra Parker. She needs to be handled, Grayson.”
“Her training will be taken care of by my family and Cecilia,” he stated. “Just like we agreed from the outset. Now if you’ll excuse us…”
“Not so fast, Jonathan.” Dana set her coffee cup back on the table. “I wasn’t finished. Alex’s training is essential for ensuring the safety of both the norms and the Variant community as a whole. For that reason, I’m giving you a deadline.”
“A deadline?” echoed Cil.
“Three weeks from today, I will meet with Alex to… assess her progress. If, at that time, Alex is still lacking the necessary control over her abilities, then she will be taken into Agency custody and her training shall be completed in a more controlled environment.”
Controlled environment? Why not just say what you mean, Dana? You’ll arrest her and throw her into an Agency prison until you’ve brainwashed her into working for you, and you alone.
“No more extensions,” continued Dana, “and no more leeway. Get her under control, Grayson. Before we all pay the price.”
— 14 —
“Wait. Grayson and Aiden left already? Then who’s taking the kid to school this morning?”
Brian tried not to bristle at Declan’s use of the word “kid.” Technically, his brother had used the label correctly. He was only ten, after all.
But when you’d seen the things Brian had seen… When you knew the things that he knew…
The word kid usually felt more like an insult.
Here I am, brain the size of a planet, he thought, paraphrasing a line from one of his favorite books, and they still treat me like an ankle-biter.
The older he got, the more he could empathize with poor Marvin, the Paranoid Android. They both knew far too much to easily relate with the people around them.
“You’re taking him,” said Nate. He poured his second cup of coffee into a travel mug, then stuffed the pot back onto the warmer. “I’ve got a job to finish for Grayson before that training session with Alex this afternoon.”
“Oh, come on.” Declan set down a glass of orange juice that had made it only halfway to his mouth. “I’ve got to get to work.”
Nathaniel snorted in amusement. “Work? You hang out with Alex and Kenzie all day. Really tough assignment you got there, Decks.”
Declan huffed. “After what happened with Masterson on Friday, do you really think I ought to be late today?”
It was 7:16 am, Monday morning, and Brian was currently on track for a tardy. Declan would be taking him to school in a few short minutes, despite all the protests.
Brian had already seen it.
He closed his eyes for a moment while Declan and Nathaniel argued.
He was in the passenger seat of the Mercedes, and Declan was not happy, but it wasn’t because of this detour from his morning routine. It was because of the things Brian was telling him.
Brian opened his eyes again.
The things Brian had to tell him, if they wanted to derail Masterson’s plans and eventually save the world from a grisly end.
So, you know.
No pressure or anything.
“I usually take the bike,” said Declan. “I can’t take the kid on the bike.”
“Then take Grayson’s Mercedes,” countered Nate. “Boom. Problem solved.”
Out of everyone in the family, only Nate and Aiden had any idea of the true extent of Brian’s powers. And while he still couldn’t get the hang of conjuring a vision on command, his dreams and quiet moments were often filled to bursting with images of possible futures.
Every day, Brian was forced to sort through those possibilities and decide on the best way he could help
bring about a particular outcome.
He was caught up in a never-ending game of chess and, with an opponent like Masterson, one wrong move would mean the end of everything and everyone Brian cared about.
“Fine,” said Declan. “Brian, grab your stuff. We’re going to be late.”
They spent the first few minutes of the drive not speaking, their ears assailed, instead, with the sounds of music from a local hard rock station.
Brian reached over and turned down the volume.
Without taking his eyes from the road, Declan returned the song to its near-deafening levels with a quick wave of his hand.
Times like these, Brian really wished he had been born with Kenzie’s ability, so that he could just shout what he had to say directly into Declan’s head and be done with it.
He turned the volume down again.
“What, Brian?”
“You should probably slow things down with Alex,” said Brian.
Declan looked at him sharply. It was a look that promised swift and unpleasant consequences if he didn’t explain himself, and fast.
The only problem? He really had no way of explaining anything without telling Declan too much about what was coming for them.
And right now, their survival rested entirely on Declan’s continued ignorance.
“Excuse me?”
Brian shrugged. “I saw something.”
Declan shifted uncomfortably in the leather seat before turning his attention back to the road. “There’s nothing going on between me and Alex.”
Brian wondered just how stupid—or better yet, blind—Declan thought he was.
“And even if there was,” Declan continued. “You’d have to do a hell of a lot better than that.”
Brian paused as he went over the things he might say that would make Declan think twice about Alex.
“Wait. Is this… is this because you like her?”
“What? No!”
“I get it, Bri,” said Declan, awkwardly. “She’s… ah… she’s cute. I can see why you would…”
Oh, for the love of…
“I don’t like Alex!” His protest was undermined by an unexpected break in his voice. “I mean, not like that. She’s great and all, just not… You know…”
Declan remained unconvinced. “Is this why you barged into the guest room yesterday morning? You were trying to interrupt us?”
Actually, that was why he’d barged in.
Declan just had the motives all wrong.
“It’s not like that,” said Brian. “But you need to trust me, Decks. You can’t let anything happen between you and Alex.”
At least, not yet, he added to himself.
Brian mulled over his options, and then he said the only thing he could that would force his brother to follow his orders.
He told Declan the truth.
Well, half of it, anyway.
“If you let something happen between the two of you right now, you’re going to lose her. For good.”
* * *
Alex sliced her arm through the air in front of her, using the telekinesis she’d absorbed from Nathaniel to grab hold of the rapidly approaching tree branch—the same one that had been so carefully aimed at her midsection after it took to the sky.
With a little effort, she managed to send the branch rocketing back to its source.
A source that just so happened to be standing a hundred feet away from Alex on the other side of the training field, looking a bit bored.
Nathaniel easily redirected her volley and sent the tree limb crashing to the ground at the outskirts of the field.
“You’re taking too long with the turn-around,” Nate shouted, shaking his head as he sent two basketball-sized clumps of dirt spiraling in her direction. “You need to be faster, Alex.”
Alex’s attempt to take control of both dirt clumps simultaneously resulted in their immediate explosion instead.
A shower of dirt rained down on her from overhead.
“You know,” said a voice from somewhere behind her, “this might just be the weirdest game of whac-a-mole I’ve ever seen.”
Distracted, Alex turned to face the new arrivals. It was a move that turned out to be a major tactical error on her part. Something Alex realized about the same time as a foot-long chunk of tree limb slammed into her left leg, just below the kneecap.
Grunting in pain, she reached down to rub her shin. “What—seriously, Nate? Kenzie had me distracted!”
“That was the point, Alex,” he called out from across the field. “You can’t allow yourself to lose focus like that in the middle of a fight. Look away from your opponent, even for an instant, and you could end up with something a whole lot worse than just a bruise on your knee. Now pay attention.”
Alex sighed. A bruise on her knee? She’d be lucky if she wasn’t bruised from head to toe before this training session was over.
It was her own fault. Alex was the one that had insisted that Nathaniel not go easy on her.
Forget just getting her feet wet. Alex was convinced that the best way to gain control over Nathaniel’s telekinetic ability was to be tossed into the deep end and forced to swim.
She would learn to control this ability tonight, or she’d go down trying.
The last thing she could afford right now was to take it slow. What if something happened at school tomorrow? What if she accidentally sent some unsuspecting freshman careening into the lockers during passing period? What then?
No. Better to jump straight to the hard part.
Alex needed to know, without a doubt, that she could control it.
Behind her Kenzie was shouting an apology. She’d arrived at the outskirts of the field with Aiden at her side, but Declan appeared to be MIA. Had he decided not to come?
Alex tried to ignore the sinking feeling growing in her chest.
After all, he’d been acting weird all day, so this really shouldn’t have come as a surprise.
The moment they’d shared the previous morning—whatever it had been—seemed to have been forgotten in the very instant Brian stepped into the room.
Another branch came spiraling toward her and she hastened to leap out of its path.
Nate smiled, apparently amused by Alex’s sudden inability to focus, and she bit back an angry retort. He’d taken the upper-hand, but she wasn’t about to let him keep it.
Alex warily scanned the ground and skies above for incoming targets.
Before Kenzie and Aiden had joined them on the training field, Alex was doing a pretty bang-up job (pun totally intended) of putting the telekinetic kibosh on the flying projectiles Nate had been hurtling her way.
Now that her concentration was shattered, she was forced to resort to a far less effective bob-and-weave method of self-defense.
“Uh, Nate?” Aiden’s voice asked from behind her. “Is there any particular reason you’re pelting Alex with rocks and sticks?”
Alex ducked as one of those aforementioned rocks—a chunk of limestone roughly the size of a golf ball—went sailing past her ear.
Dammit, she thought. I missed again.
They’d been at this for two hours already.
It took Alex most of the first hour just to figure out the knack behind moving things with the TK she’d absorbed from Nathaniel.
What Nate couldn’t seem to explain in words—and what she’d eventually managed to figure out on her own—was that her emotions were the key to controlling this ability. Alex didn’t just need the intention to move something, she needed the desire to move it, as well.
And if she didn’t necessarily have the desire? She discovered anger worked just as well in a pinch.
After that little revelation, it fast became clear why Nathaniel suggested they work alone that afternoon. Had the others been with them in the field at the beginning of their session, Alex probably would have taken someone’s head off with all the debris she’d sent rocketing in unexpected directions.
“Can everybody just stop talking
so I can concentrate on not turning into a five-foot-two, talking hematoma?” Alex dodged another flying stick, threw out her arm and halted its forward motion. “Please?”
With that, Alex sent the tree-branch-turned-missile spiraling back toward Nate.
He raised a hand to stop it—and then something unexpected happened.
Instead of countering her attack, Nate dove out of the way.
“Whoa,” said Kenzie, before letting out a whoop of delight and hollering, “Yes!”
“That’s a first,” said Aiden, laughing, then he called out loud enough for Nathaniel to hear him across the field. “Looks like someone’s finally met his match!”
Nate barked a laugh at Aiden’s comment and got slowly to his feet, dusting himself off. “Don’t cry, Aiden,” he said. “I know how badly you wanted it to be you.”
“What just happened?” Alex called out. “Why didn’t you just deflect the branch?”
He was grinning as he walked across the field. “Because I couldn’t, Alex,” he said. “The force you were exerting on it was too strong for me to counter.”
Wait.
What?
“That’s not possible.” Alex shook her head. “You’ve got to be… What? At least twice as strong as me?”
“No, Alex,” he said. “I’m not.”
She furrowed a brow.
“I never have been.” Nate closed the gap between them, reached out and brushed some of the dirt from Alex’s shoulders. “It just seemed that way, because you hadn’t been tapping into your full power. At least, not until just now.”
“Told ya’ so!” chimed Kenzie, reaching out to pluck a twig from Alex’s hair.
Alex was more powerful than Nate?
Sure, Kenzie said as much the week before, but Alex hadn’t actually believed her. How could her replicated ability be more powerful than the original? It didn’t make sense.
With the other abilities, she’d just assumed that what she could do was always on par with everyone else, and that she simply lacked the experience necessary to fully rein in her borrowed gifts.
Did she have it wrong? Was her lack of restraint really a symptom of the fact that she had more to control?
