by Jaime Rush
When she looked up, Lachlan was standing next to her, his hand on the wooden ball post at the foot of the bed. She took an involuntary step back. “It’s my fault. He came into the music store and gave me that smile.”
Lachlan nodded. “Aye, I know that smile. Melted you, did it?”
“No, it didn’t melt me. I could tell he was one of those guys who flirts with every girl. Usually I shut out guys like that; shut out everyone, really.”
“What made you change your mind about Magnus, then?”
She couldn’t tell him that she’d so needed to feel like a woman . . . a woman who didn’t have Darkness. “He hit me at a weak point.” She shrugged. “There was something about him.”
“He thought the same about you.” His laugh was more like a bark. “He had that right.”
That stung, even though it was true. “Your accusation that I was planning to kill him reminded me that I can’t afford to bring anyone into my life. I left a message for him, called things off.” Her voice fell to a whisper. “He was stubborn.”
“Aye, it’s in our blood. But now there’s something else in his blood.” His next question came out in a carefully neutral way. “Have you ever killed anyone?”
“No. What I became tonight . . . that’s all I can do. I have no claws. No teeth.”
“You can only toss a chap across the room, is that it?”
“Pretty much.”
He rolled his right shoulder, wincing. “It’s quite effective. You turn to smoke and kick arse. Russell turns to a wolf form with all the lethality of the actual creature. Anything else?”
She curled her fingers into the blanket. “All I know about Darkness is that, for me, it’s triggered by high emotions, like fear, anger.” The reason she kept such a tight rein on her emotions. “Tonight, or with you at my apartment, I didn’t Become on purpose. I never have. The first time I Became was when Russell found me after his release. I felt my body shift, change. Like being superheated. I threw him, then Faded and ran.”
“Faded?”
“Went invisible. That’s what the cross on my wall helps me to do.” She lifted the bottom edge of her shirt and pushed down the top of her jeans, revealing the symbol on her lower right stomach. He started to reach for the symbol but stopped himself just short of making contact. “A tattoo?”
“I had it scarified into me.”
“Scarified?”
“Carved.” At his horrified expression, she said, “I wanted to feel it.” She touched the raised edges, something she did a lot. “But Fading is the power of the symbol, not Darkness. I don’t think Magnus will be able to do that.”
“He can already go invisible.”
She stared at the tips of his long fingers, hovering close to her cross. His words sunk in. “He can?”
He pulled his hand back. “It’s more of an ability to blend in, to not be noticed.”
“How can a guy like Magnus not be noticed?”
“I don’t know how he does it, really. He’s been able to do it since he was a kid. That’s how I got blamed for breaking one of our mum’s porcelain owls. How do you become invisible?”
“My father sewed a wooden coin carved with this cross into one of my stuffed animals and told me it would protect me. He said to call out the word ‘Fade.’ That’s how I escaped Russell the night he killed my mom.” His gaze was still on her symbol, more fascinated than disgusted. She yanked her shirt down, feeling self-conscious.
“Why did Russell kill your parents?”
“I don’t know. My father was afraid of him. He’d told me his brother might come after him, but only said they had bad history. He showed me a picture of him, told me to be on the lookout. The coin, and ability to Fade, was something he’d taught me as a way to keep myself safe. The horrible part was, it was my dad’s body and identity associated with the crimes, and I couldn’t tell anyone that it wasn’t my father anymore.” That same frustration swamped her again.
He was studying her, an odd expression on his face. “Maybe that ‘something’ Magnus sensed about you was your vibration of living in fear. We spent our lives preparing for some bad man who was hunting us by living in remote areas and rarely going into society.”
“Really?”
“Why do you think we live out in the middle of nowhere? We finally settled down here, where my dad felt safe for the last ten years.”
“And was he?”
He shook his head, his gaze fading into the distance, the past. “No. Like you, both our parents are gone.”
“Who was after you?”
“It’s not important now. The bastard’s dead, too.” His focus homed in on her again. “Why do you bear the name of a dead girl?”
Her mouth opened, in surprise and immediate rebuttal. It closed when she saw that somehow he’d figured it out. “That’s not important either.” She started walking to the door. He blocked her way, his wide, sculpted chest a wall in front of her. “Move. I’ve told you everything that’s relevant.”
“Everything about you, and your past, is important.”
She blew out a breath and took a step back. “I took another identity, that’s all. To hide from Russell.”
“That’s why you volunteer at all these MDA events? You don’t look like you have it yourself.”
“Jessie’s none of your business.” She put her hand at his waist and tried to push him aside. He didn’t budge. The feel of his warm, bare skin made her pull back.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“I’ve got to leave town. Again.” The word came out soaked in weariness. “I can take you back to Magnus’s car, if you’re comfortable leaving him alone. But I have to go. Now.”
She ducked around him. In a flash he held the sword across the door’s opening at her face level. Her throat tightened. He wasn’t normal either, but no way did she want an explanation for what she’d seen on the security tape. Or while he’d fought Russell that night. Better not to know.
Lachlan’s expression was calm, his muscles hard and defined as they held the sword. “You’re not leaving.”
Anger bristled through her. “And you can’t keep me here. I told you what you needed to know. Magnus has my number. I’m sure he’ll have questions for me. I’ll answer them as best as I can, but I don’t know any more than I just told you.”
“Maybe you didn’t hear me. You are not leaving.”
“You’re keeping me prisoner? Why would you do that? Russell will find me here. I don’t know how, but he’s found me three times now. Keeping me here exposes Magnus to more danger.” She patted his arm, a fake smile plastered on her face. “And being the dutiful brother, you wouldn’t want that, would you?” There was something about Lachlan and Magnus, too. She’d felt a vibration like a soft electrical shock when they touched.
She ducked under the sword and stalked down the long hall. His footsteps sounded behind her, and then his arm went across her shoulders, spinning her around.
“You’re going to just run away? Again.”
She shrugged out of his grip. “Running is working for me so far. You make it sound like I’ve got a bevy of choices. I can’t go to the police. They’d only lock me away in the loony bin, and besides, they wouldn’t be able to help me anyway. Make nice with Russell? Not likely.”
“You can throw him, and he can tear you apart. How long do you think you can stay ahead of the game?”
“As long as I can. What else can I do?”
“Kill him.”
She laughed, especially seeing that he was serious. “I’m capable of fending off an attack, as you know. But that’s a far cry from planning to kill someone, even with a good reason. He’s stronger, and hell, I don’t even know what I am, much less how to use it to defeat him.”
He was shaking his head. “When Magnus wakes, I’m going to have to tell him there’s some new supernatural essence in him. That’s going to be bad enough. If I tell him I let you leave, a lamb sent to the slaughterhouse, he’ll have my
head, and rightfully so.”
Part of her softened at the thought of not being alone. She had been alone for so long, holding her secrets, her pain. “I saw kids who were given a death sentence because of a disease that ravaged their bodies bit by bit. At least I won’t die like that. If it comes, it’ll be over quickly.”
“How did you come to be in a place where children died?”
“I lived with a couple who fostered special needs kids.”
He looked her up and down, searing her with his gaze. “You were ill?”
“Not like that.”
He braced one hand against the wall, leaning closer. “When you watched those children dying, did it kill you, too, that you couldn’t do anything to help them?”
His words cut into her. “Yes.”
“Those diseases, they were monsters you couldn’t defeat.”
She shook her head.
“I watched people I love die, too, unable to do anything to save them. So you’ll understand why I can’t let you walk out there alone.”
She took a deep, halting breath. “This is my war.”
He gestured toward the doorway behind him to Magnus. “Now it’s mine, too. Don’t make me waste time and energy trying to convince you or find you. We’re going to wipe this son of a bitch off the planet. First, we figure out what Darkness is.” He studied her again, his head tilted. “Though Russell seemed hellish, you don’t.”
“Gee, thanks.”
His mouth quirked in a grin. “What I mean is, I don’t think what’s in you is demonic.”
She wanted to smile at that, to gush in relief, but checked the impulse. “Then what? I’ve run out of ideas.”
He wrapped his fingers around her wrist in a gentle hold. An energy thrummed from where he touched her and set off an answering pulse in her body.
“You feel it, too, don’t you?” he asked. “The something Magnus sensed.” He gave a dip of his chin, as though she’d confirmed whatever he suspected.
She pulled her hand back. “What is that?”
“Were either of your parents in a top-secret government program back in the eighties? Did they live in the DC area?”
“Not that I know of.”
He considered that for a moment. “You have to be an Offspring. I know someone who can probably tell for sure.” He went back into the bedroom. “And I’m not looking forward to asking,” he muttered to himself.
She knew she should leave now, while she had the chance, but her feet wouldn’t budge. He had commanded her, and her body obeyed. Not only obeyed, but stirred at the sight of him coming back out to the hallway, cell phone in one hand, sword in the other. She had felt him against her, a crazy-assed moment for him to be aroused, and for her to be thinking about it now, when she should be leaving.
He was scrolling down a list on his phone, probably contacts, when he came to a stop in front of her. “There’s the dodgy bastard.” He touched the screen and put the phone to his ear while he turned the sword back and forth, throwing a reflection onto the wall. “Eric, I presume? . . . This isn’t Magnus. It’s Lachlan. I’m using his phone . . . Yeah, that Lachlan. Big surprise, I know. I’ve got an even bigger one. I need your help . . . Aye, but I didn’t actually throw the wrench at you. I wanted to, but unlike your hotheaded self, I restrained my impulses.”
She whispered, “You have an odd way of asking someone for help.”
He narrowed his eyes at her as he continued to speak on the phone. “Look, I was . . . wrong to blame you for my father’s death . . . Aye, you can take that as an apology. Now, moving onto the help part. I’m not asking for myself. Seeing as Magnus saved your arse, I figure you owe him one. I need someone to pick up his car and bring it to our place. He’s out cold, and I don’t want to leave him alone . . . He’s all right, mostly, anyway, but I need to get him somewhere safe while he recovers. And I need to talk to the odd bloke from the other dimension. I’ve got a situation.” His gaze met hers. “I don’t want to involve you, any of you, but I need an idea of what I’m dealing with.” He gave Eric directions to the carnival grounds and told him where Magnus hid the spare key.
“We’re dealing with,” she said when Lachlan disconnected.
“What?”
“We’re dealing with this. You can’t just take over.”
Instead of responding, he went to a room at the end of the hallway and returned a minute later pulling on a red knit shirt. “I need a beer. You could use one, too.”
The gall. “Now you’re ordering me to drink?”
“Suggesting.”
She followed him through the family room and eventually into the kitchen, because she needed answers, not because she was obeying him. That phone conversation had only spurred more questions.
“What’s an Offspring? Who are these people whose help you’re asking for? Obviously you’re not all that friendly with the guy you were talking to. You threatened him with a wrench? He killed your father?”
He opened the stainless steel door of the huge fridge that contained large cans of beer, a few packages of chicken and lunch meat, a loaf of bread, and not much else. He held up two different cans, a black one and a yellow one. “Boddingtons or Guinness?”
“I’m not much of a beer drinker.”
“Boddy, then.” He pulled down two tall glasses, opened the can, and poured the contents into one. Bubbles sank through the creamy-looking liquid, a thick foam settling on top. “No, I don’t exactly have a buddy-buddy relationship with these people. Eric can set fires psychically, dangerous because he has a habit of sparking first and then assessing the situation. I’m sure he wasn’t thinking about my father locked in the basement when he set the bastard who’d been after us our whole lives on fire.” He opened the black can and poured dark liquid into the second glass. “It’s a long story.”
“Oh, no, you don’t get to drop something like that and wave it off. Who are you people? Magnus can go invisible, you have visions of the future—and God knows what else—and one of your sort-of friends can set fires with his mind? Are you freaking kidding me?” She thought she was the only one who had a screwed-up background filled with things that couldn’t be explained.
He looked completely serious. “I’m not . . . freaking kidding you. But I’d rather wait until I can confirm my suspicions before getting into everything.”
“No way. You already opened that door. You said the ‘odd bloke from the other dimension.’ Bloke is a guy, but what did you mean by ‘other dimension’?”
“Ever heard of string theory? Membrane theory?” He leaned against the counter. “Some quantum physicists theorize that there are many dimensions parallel to our own. Different beings live there, and every now and then one slips through cracks between our dimensions. This bloke, Pope, comes from one called Surfacia.”
She watched him take a long drink of his beer, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. He set the glass on the counter and met her gaze, looking every bit as casual as if he’d just told her about his favorite sports team.
“And you expect me to believe this.”
“If I were you, I’d keep an open mind. Because if my guess is right, what’s in you isn’t demonic . . . it’s from another dimension.”
That blew her mind; everything he was saying simply splintered it apart. She grabbed onto the pieces, desperately needing to pull it together. “Me . . . another dimension . . . people . . .”
He watched her, clearly amused. “I’d better start at the beginning. My father was fascinated by slime molds, unclassified blobs of biological material. He especially loved when he found powdre ser where a meteor had landed. One day he tracked what he thought was a meteor, collected the powdre ser, and brought it back to his lab here, where he accidentally ingested a bit of it.
“My dad wasn’t only strange because of his affection for slime. He could astral-project—send his soul to other places—but after eating slime, he could go to the past, and even move things. The slime mold amplified his powers. Ev
entually, it fell into the wrong hands and was given to a group of people in the top secret government project I asked you about. The offspring of those people inherited their parents’ enhanced psychic abilities. Magnus, Eric—”
“The woman you mentioned at the carnival grounds who can heal . . .”
“Aye, her, too, and others. We all have psychic powers beyond the norm. The man behind the project, he was the one hunting my father. He hunted the Offspring down, too, but now he’s dead.”
“The reason your father kept you in hiding.” Things were clicking into place. “The thing he thought was a meteor, I’m guessing that has something to do with this other dimension.”
“Aye. What my father saw wasn’t a meteor; it was an aircraft from Surfacia that crashed here. What he found that day wasn’t powdre ser; it was the pilot’s Essence. His life force. That is in us. And maybe you.”
She took a big gulp of beer. There were people like her, who had powers, who had been hunted. Were they good? Or evil like Russell? Magnus had fought to protect her. Lachlan . . . she wasn’t so sure.
His phone rang, and he answered it. “Lachlan . . . You’re here? Good . . . Sure, come on in . . . Aye, come in that way.” He disconnected and gave her a curious smile. “Keep your eyes open.”
Russell leaned against the bathroom sink, clutching at the edges of the small counter, and used Darkness to heal the slice the sword-wielding intruder had inflicted. He let out groans, throwing his head back, straining the muscles of his neck.
The girl now known as Jessie had paired up with two men, and one of them had a powerful energy about him. That energy had arced down his sword and electrified Russell. Cut into him. There was little that could harm him while he was in Darkness, especially by a human. The sword should have merely sliced through his energy, necessitating a quick repair. This wound was painful, healing it more so.
He had retreated, not out of fear but sensibility. Wounded, he was not as strong. She had taken him by surprise, having allies. Where had she found these men? Well, one was dead. The other would be soon.
Time was running out. He had to capture her before all was lost. The thought of what he’d lose hurt more than the wound. He would not lose, not this time.
