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Undone (The Guardians Book 1)

Page 7

by Jessica Roe


  “Twenty two. Which yeah, is very young to be working as the only scientist in a Guardian division. But my visions aren't why they hired me. I hadn't even been in collage a year when a Guardian Recruiter came for me. He offered me a job working here in New York City and said that I could finish getting my qualifications at the same time, only much faster. There was no way I could turn the opportunity down. It didn't even occur to me to wonder why I was being offered such a great job when I had no experience. I mean, not to brag, but back home I won a whole bunch of science awards, but you never think anyone is paying attention to that, right? When I got here everyone was wary of me 'cause I was so young. It didn't take me long to figure out that I'd been hired because the NYCGD didn't have the funding to get anyone older or more experienced. But I was determined to prove I belonged here, so that's exactly what I did. I created a salve that heals the effects of Fire Elemental burns. It doesn't work on regular burns, but still...the team were impressed.”

  “A Fire Elemental is someone who can control fire, right?”

  “Well done, you've been studying.” She looked pleased.

  “So where do your visions come in?”

  “Well, I started getting them when I was fourteen, but I was so freaked out by them that I only told my twin brother, Dean. I could never keep anything from him when we were kids. I felt like such a mutant, so I just pretended they weren't even happening when I couldn't find a logical or scientific explanation for them. When I came here, I told Charles and the team about them, and he introduced me to Cadby, who helped me to understand them better. Knowing there are others out there like me makes me feel better, like less of a freak.” She looked down at her hands and smiled sadly. “Just don't tell anyone else, 'kay? Seers are rare, and Charles said that if the Guardian Elders found out what I can do, they'd probably want me up there working with them. And I like it here.”

  Queenie hadn't had an easy time of it, Nicky realized. They were a lot alike. She'd had a gift she didn't understand just like he had, and she'd had to work hard to earn people's trust. And yet she kept on smiling. He liked that. He liked her, and he admired her, because she could just have easily have gone down a dark path like he had, only she hadn't. “Thanks for telling me all this. I appreciate that you trust me,” he told her. “I promise I'll never tell anyone.”

  The lingering sadness vanished from her eyes and she shot him a bright grin. “I know you won't. You're one of us now. Family.”

  “If we're family,” he said sneakily. “Then you'll tell me why they call you Queenie.”

  She blushed. “It's nothing! Walker just found out I was Prom Queen in high school back home. She thought it was funny. I guess she didn't think they really did that kind of thing outside of TV. Don't you dare laugh!”

  “No way! But you're so...opposite to every Prom Queen, ever.”

  “I said don't laugh!”

  “Can't help it. Families laugh at each other.”

  “Then families suck.”

  “Hey, talking of families,” he said, in a bid to change the subject. “Do yours even know what you really do here? Do they know about your visions?”

  “Oh man, no way. They'd freak out if I ever told them about the Outcasts, and they'd be so worried about me. I don't think they'd be able to deal with it. They think I work for the Government, which is technically true, I guess. I didn't even tell Dean, which sucked so bad. He thinks the visions just faded away.”

  “Is it hard being away from your twin?”

  “So hard. I can't even describe it.”

  “Tell me more about your family.”

  Her eyes lit up and she settled more comfortably in to her stool. “Well, my mom is a doctor, and she's super smart. And my dad...”

  “DAMMIT!” NICKY HISSED when the red rubber ball shot from its sitting place on the stool in front of him and smacked his forehead. It was only a small ball, no bigger than a cherry tomato, but it fucking hurt. He snatched the ball out of the air before it fell to the ground and hurled it towards the shadow. Of course it passed straight through the shadowy body, ricocheting off Cadby's tent walls and hitting Nicky again.

  For three days—long, annoying days—Nicky and Cadby had been working together to try to get a shadow to pass Nicky an object. The plan had been to start with something small—a rubber ball—and lead up to bigger objects.

  They were still stuck on the ball.

  Most times the shadow didn't seem to hear Nicky's demands, and the other times it appeared frustrated, which was usually when it threw the ball at Nicky like a child having a temper tantrum.

  Cadby sighed and picked up the offending ball, delicately placing it back on the stool in front of Nicky. “I think we need to change tactics.”

  “I think we need to change shadows,” Nicky grumbled. “This one's a little bitch.” He eyed the shadow darkly. It had drifted towards a corner and was lingering, mid air, in an unhurried sort of way. It didn't have a face, but Nicky was sure that if it did, it would have been a smug one.

  “It's not the shadow's fault.”

  “Yeah, well, you're not the one who just got assaulted by a rubber ball. What did that even look like to you? Is it like the ball is shooting through the air for no reason?”

  “That's how it would look to most people, yes, but not me. I see energy prints and lines; they glow to me. Everything is all connected.”

  “Do you see that all the time? That must make it hard to concentrate on life.”

  Cadby shrugged, surprised, like no one had ever thought to ask him that before. “It was at first, when I didn't know how to control my gift. But I've learned how to accept it, and even turn it off when I need to.”

  “Do you ever wish you could turn it off completely?”

  He gnawed on his lip, looking thoughtful. “Not for a long time. It's who I am.”

  Nicky nodded in understanding. There had been many a time he'd wished the shadows away while growing up. He still wasn't entirely sure his life wouldn't be easier without them, but he didn't think he could give up his gift, not since learning what it truly meant. “Okay, I'm ready to try again.”

  “I think I know what our problem is,” Cadby announced. “We've been trying to get the shadows to work for you, when we need them to be working with you. What you need to understand is that it isn't about control, it's about collaboration.”

  “Okay, so...”

  “So instead of telling the shadow to pass you the ball, ask it. Politely...And say please,” he added helpfully.

  Nicky did exactly as he was told...and the shadow still didn't move. “Any more bright ideas? Or can I go home and bang my head against the wall 'till I'm unconscious now?”

  “Try asking for it in their language.”

  Nicky crossed his arms, annoyed. “I don't speak shadow.” He'd never needed to. All he usually had to do to help a shadow was to use his inner light to guide it.

  “But you already understand it,” Cadby pointed out. “You know what they're saying when they whisper to you. Speaking their language will come naturally. Just focus.”

  A part of Nicky didn't really think it would work, but he pushed that part to the back of his mind. One of the most important things Cadby had taught him in their time together was to believe in himself. The more he believed, the more he could achieve. He closed his eyes and breathed deep, focussing on the ball of light he knew he had inside him. He thought about the way the shadows whispered to him, and the words he wanted to say.

  Something inside of him switched on. An electric pulse shot through his body, and when he opened his eyes, they flashed. The room disappeared into a bright whiteness for several long moments, and when it faded, the world looked different. Everything was darker, sharper. Cadby was barely a grey outline in his vision, but when Nicky looked down at his own body, he saw that he was shining brightly, brighter than anything he'd ever seen. He was the brightest thing in the room. He was the brightest thing in the whole dark world.

  Somethin
g moved in front of him—the shadow. Except the shadow was somehow less shadowy. Still not totally human, but maybe somewhere in between. Nicky could see a blurred nose, ears, a mouth, golden hair and faded blue eyes. The outline of pale purple fingerprints on a long neck. The boy couldn't have been more than sixteen when he was murdered.

  Nicky realized that he was seeing the world as a shadow saw it. He was seeing the world as a Shadow Guide at work.

  He asked the shadow to pass him the ball once more, and when the words came out, they sounded just like the flowing tune he'd heard the shadows whisper to him.

  The shadow boy smiled and moved forwards, gently placing the ball into the palm of Nicky's hand. And then he stepped back, his smile dropped, and he opened his arms in a confused gesture. He was lost. Nicky held out a hand, bathed in light, and the shadow reached for it. So used to being reached out for by just a shadow, Nicky found it odd to see real fingers reach towards his own. Shadow Boy smiled again, a luminous, joyful smile, before disappearing into the light.

  “Okay,” Nicky called to Cadby's dark figure, blinking. “Now how do I turn it off?”

  NICKY WAS MORE exhausted than he'd ever been when he arrived back at headquarters. Charles definitely hadn't been lying when he'd said that asking things of the shadows would drain his energy. He felt like he hadn't slept in a week. Truth be told, despite the warnings, he hadn't expected it to be so hard, but Cadby had promised him it would get easier and less tiresome with time. He could only hope that was true.

  The rest of the team were eating dinner around the dining table in the kitchen; some kind of spaghetti dish probably cooked up by Queenie—spaghetti was the only thing she could cook without causing a kitchen disaster. They looked up at him when he dragged himself into the room in.

  “Your dinner's in the microwave,” Walker told him, shovelling a forkful into her mouth—she was way more unladylike than she looked. “Get it yourself.”

  Nicky slumped into a chair and thumped his head down on the table. “Too tired to eat.”

  “What's up with you?” Zay asked. He sucked a long string of spaghetti into his mouth, splattering sauce all over his shirt. Charles cast him a despairing frown. “Got your period?”

  “Shut your face, you bloody twit,” Nicky answered. They threw insults at each other on a daily basis, but it was all in good fun, like brothers would do. Nicky liked stealing Zay's English words, because that seemed to piss him off the most. “I'm just exhausted. I got a shadow to pass me that damned ball, finally, and then my vision went all crazy, like I was seeing the world from their point of view. It was intense for a while, but Cadby helped me turn it off.” The table fell silent, and Nicky looked up at them questioningly. Charles' grin was wide. “What?”

  “I think,” Charles said. “that it's time you went to work. Don't you?”

  NICKY DIDN'T HAVE to wait long before he went on his first mission—a mission he was told firmly that he was there to observe only.

  Only two days had passed before Charles received a report of a disturbance nearby. “Somebody was killed in an apartment fire,” he explained while they travelled.

  Nicky, who was sat in the back of their sleek black car between Walker and a nervous looking Queenie—it was one of the rare occurrences when her expertise was essential outside the lab—commented, “Ain't that the kind of thing regular cops deal with?”

  “If it were a normal fire, yes.”

  “You think it's suspicious? Like, Outcast suspicious?”

  “Indeed.”

  “Fire Elemental?”

  “Most likely.”

  “But what makes you think that?”

  “There are a number of factors,” Charles responded. “The fire was contained within a specific two meter circle, to begin with. The report said that it seemed impossible to extinguish, and then it suddenly died down out of nowhere—that's always a sign of a Fire Elemental; they're usually the only ones who can stop their own fires.”

  “Okay, so what do we do now?”

  “First, we assess the crime scene.”

  OF COURSE IT turned out to be shady—Charles wasn't often wrong, Nicky was quickly learning.

  After using FBI badges to pass the police barriers—Charles had gone suspiciously quiet when Nicky questioned whether they'd obtained the badges through legal means—they had searched the apartment and found no clues to point them in the direction of a Fire Elemental.

  Nicky seemed to be the only one who was showing any signs of distress at the charred remains of a body, yet to be taken away. The room smelled strongly of smoke, and of something more...fleshy, and he was trying hard not to breathe in. He wondered if he'd ever be able to deal with death and not have it affect him so much, like the rest of his team.

  A shadow knelt down next to the remains and shook its head wistfully. It turned towards Nicky and shrugged its shoulders, and he could tell it was saddened that the owner of the body had already moved on, while it still remained. Nicky blinked into Shadow Guide view, swaying for a moment as the change took place, and asked it for help. The shadow—a middle aged man with eyebrows as frizzy as his hair—pointed towards the window, before taking Nicky's bright hand and disappearing.

  Switching back into normal view, he said, “Check out the window.”

  “There's nothing here,” Walker, who was closest, reported. “Oh...wait.” She pulled the window up. On the outside ledge was a charred hand print, as if the person who had climbed out was still burning. It was beyond creepy.

  “Fire Elemental,” Queenie confirmed, after taking a sample and doing a quick test on some weird, travel sized equipment. “Looks like they're probably out of control, if the hand print is anything to go by. Probably only just recently developed the gift.” She spat out the word 'gift', like she didn't really believe that was what it was. With the smell of burning flesh still clinging to his nostrils, Nicky had to agree.

  “How can you tell?” he asked.

  “When a Fire Elemental first develops the heat, they find it difficult to control. They'll start fires without meaning to, and they'll burn up at any given time. The fire won't hurt them, because it comes from them, but those around them at the time will suffer. That's probably what happened here.”

  “Shall I destroy the hand print,” Zay asked Charles, who nodded and instructed the others to get ready to leave.

  “Won't the police need the print for evidence?” Nicky wanted to know. “They could get fingerprints off it or something?”

  “This situation will be better dealt with by the Guardians,” said Charles. “The police don't have the resources to deal with someone so dangerous and unpredictable. Besides, they're hardly likely to take the charred hand print well, are they?”

  As usual, Nicky realized that Charles was right.

  “WHAT DO WE do now?” Nicky questioned after they'd left the burn site and approached the car.

  “Felicity is calling the nearest Tracker now,” Charles explained. He rarely called Queenie by her nickname. “She'll give them the details of the rogue Fire Elemental and the Tracker will pick them up and contain them until they can be taken in.”

  “That's it? We're not gonna look for them? We just do the boring work and let the Tracker come in and have all the fun?”

  “You think hunting down a deadly Outcast is fun?” Walker demanded harshly. “You think Fire Elementals are a game? Think again, you idiot.” She rubbed at a spot on her thigh. Nicky didn't think she even realized that she was doing it, because when she noticed him watching, she quickly dropped her hand.

  “I didn't mean fun,” he said quickly. “Fun was a stupid word. I meant that it seems like the Trackers get to do the real work. We have to stay behind and Velma the clues, and then some dumb Tracker comes in and Freddies all the action.”

  The Scooby Doo analogy seemed to be the wrong thing to say, because Walker cursed at him before stomping towards Queenie and the car. Charles was looking at Nicky in utter confusion. “Sometimes,” he said. �
��I don't understand a word you say.”

  “Dad,” Zay interrupted, his voice low. He nodded his head towards a blonde man, stood on the opposite side of the street. He was staring up at the apartment block with horror, the sleeves off his jacket singed and smoking.

  “Go,” instructed Charles.

  Zay set off at a brisk walk in the man's direction. Nicky made to follow, but Charles held him back. “Not on your first day. Just observe.”

  It didn't matter anyway, because as soon as the Fire Elemental realized he was being approached, he bolted. Zay sprinted after him and they both disappeared around a corner.

  “Now can I go?” Nicky demanded, but Charles shook his head.

  “Walker!” he called, and she followed after Zay at a run.

  It wasn't long before Zay and Walker returned, alone and breathing heavy.

  “He knows the streets well,” Zay said between puffs. “He vanished. God, I need to quit smoking.”

  Charles pursed his lips. “With his powers so out of control, I doubt he'll stay hidden for long.”

  “The Tracker's on his way,” Queenie informed them, slipping her cell into her pocket.

  “Who'd you get?” asked Walker, who had recovered a lot faster than Zay.

  “Hubert Eades.”

  Walker made a sound of disgust. “I hate that guy. He's such a sleaze.”

  She seemed to hate everyone, so Nicky wasn't all that inclined to believe her. Hubert was probably a stand up guy. He hadn't been with the Guardians for long, but he'd already noticed a subtle rivalry between the Trackers and Keepers. “But we're gonna go after him, right? We've just seen him, we can't let him go.”

  “They're the rules,” said Charles. “It's up to the Tracker now.”

  “The rules are incredibly dumb.”

  For once, Charles agreed with him.

  “GUESS WHO I boned last night,” Zay said, flopping down next to Nicky on the sofa and picking up one of the game controllers. “Turn it to two player mode.” He nodded his head at the game Nicky had been playing.

 

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