by Jaime Rush
Petra looked just as agonized. She’d spent the wild part of the drive crammed into an awkward position with her hands gripping the seats to keep her balance. Now she slid to the side and folded herself into yet another awkward position next to Lucas’s chest. “I need to touch him,” she said, and Amy wasn’t sure she was talking to anyone in particular. Her intense blue eyes focused on Lucas as she held her hands over his chest.
Amy was still pressing down on the wound. “Your hands are hot. I can feel the heat coming off them.”
“That’s what happens when I rub people’s shoulders.”
Her miraculous massage. How miraculous? Amy doused her hope. No massage was going to heal a bullet wound.
Amy moved her hands away, settling them on Lucas’s head, accidentally smearing it with blood. Petra placed her hands on his chest, closed her eyes and tilted her head back. Her forehead creased. Tears followed the tracks already going down her cheeks. She moved her mouth, whispering so softly Amy couldn’t hear her words. Several minutes later she could make out, “Lucas, come back, come back…Lucas, your heart is strong, your body is healing. I love you, Lucas.”
Amy closed her eyes, too, and silently chanted the same words. She poured her love down her arms and hands and into him. That love was a double-edged sword, though, cutting deep into her. She had believed in loving and losing, and now she was losing. But at least she had loved.
From what seemed like a distance she heard Rand ask, “What are they doing back there?”
Eric said, “Beats me.”
Amy didn’t know either. Their voices faded again, and in her mind she heard one of her favorite songs by Fuel: “Hemorrhage (In my Hands).” She had fixed many a hard drive with that song pounding through her earphones. Now the words about love bleeding in his hands, asking someone not to fall away and leave him to himself, resonated through her.
She cracked open her eyes. Petra was hunched over, as though in physical pain, even gasping as if experiencing pain. One of her hands was splayed over her chest. She was breathing heavily and her face was contorted.
“Petra?”
She shook her head.
Baffled, Amy shifted her attention between the two. Petra let out a breath and became completely still. Her expression relaxed, looking almost peaceful. Just seeing her that way instilled an odd peace in Amy. She looked down at Lucas. He, too, now had a peaceful expression on his face…or was he gone? The thought strangled her.
He wasn’t breathing anymore. A gasp of grief escaped her mouth. He was gone. She was alone, because even with Eric and Petra, without Lucas she was so alone.
Lucas’s eyes fluttered open and looked right at her. She blinked, sure she was imagining it. He took a deep breath and…smiled. A faint smile, but a smile! Petra opened her eyes, too, and the surprised look on her face morphed to joy.
“Lucas,” Amy said, cradling his face.
“Why are you upside down?” he asked, his voice weak.
She laughed. “You’re in the car, on my lap.”
He looked at Petra, her hands on his chest. “What happened?”
“You were shot,” Petra said. She lifted her shaky hands, which were covered in blood.
He tried to sit up.
Amy said, “Maybe you shouldn’t—”
Too late. He lifted her wadded-up shirt and looked. His shirt and chest were covered in dried blood. He ran his hands over a red welt.
A welt?
Eric jerked the car into a parking lot, threw it into Park, and twisted around in his seat. “Am I seeing things? Maybe I am crazy.”
Petra put her fingers over the welt. Her face was suffused with red, her eyes shiny with unshed tears.
“I don’t understand,” Lucas said, looking around at the stunned faces staring at his chest. “Where was I shot?”
“Here,” Petra said.
“But—”
“It’s healed,” Amy said in an awed whisper.
He blinked, rubbing his hands over his face. “I remember…” He looked at Rand. “You said Amy was going to be shot. I ran, pushed her out of the way…”
“And got shot,” Eric said.
“How long have I been out?”
Eric looked at his watch. “Forty minutes.”
Amy put her arms around his shoulders. “That’s why we’re all looking at you with incredulous expressions, Lucas. A few minutes ago you were dying. Petra put her hands on you, and now…you’re healed.”
Petra couldn’t stop smiling. “I can heal. I can heal!” She rubbed her hand over the same place on her chest where Lucas had been shot.
“Your miraculous massages,” Amy said. “You said people claimed you healed them. And your hands, they were burning hot when you put them on Lucas.”
“I felt a need to touch him. I couldn’t explain it; it just came over me.”
“What happened?” Amy asked. “You doubled over.”
“I felt his pain. Like I took it on.” She looked beneath her shirt. “It still hurts but there’s no mark. I actually expected to see one.”
Lucas took Petra’s hands in his. “I feel like I’m in a dream. It’s amazing. You’re amazing.”
“No shit,” Eric said to him. “I can’t believe it, and I’m looking at you.”
Amy reached out and gripped one of Petra’s hands. “It’s like your ability to hear from a distance. You thought it was just a really good physical ability. Those massages you gave to people actually healed them.”
Petra glowed. “I have abilities! And I saved my best friend.” She hugged Lucas. “And I’m so tired. It’s like my energy is draining right out of me.”
Lucas pulled her against him. She closed her eyes and within seconds her face was slack. Amy curled up against him, too, awash in relief.
Lucas twisted around a little and touched Amy’s bare shoulder. Then he lifted the shirt, but it was covered in blood. Rand pulled his shirt off and handed it to her. “It’s a little less bloody than yours.”
Eric pushed it back at him and removed his shirt. “Mine’s cleaner.”
“Thanks.” Amy laughed at all the chivalry and pulled it on.
Eric put the car into gear. “Let’s get back to the shelter.”
Rand was still facing the backseat, looking at Lucas. “Eric told me a little about this Offspring stuff. About how we all knew each other. This all blows my mind. And then what she did.” He nodded toward Petra, who was out. “But what totally rocks me is that you risked your life to get me out of there. Eric said it was your idea. That you insisted. Man, you saved my life.” He reached his hand out, and Lucas shook it. “I understand why you’d throw yourself in a bullet’s path to save these two. Even Eric. But why me?”
“You’re one of us.”
Rand nodded, letting those simple words sink in. “Now what?”
Eric said, “We get hold of one of those bastards and find out why we’re the way we are and what happened to our parents.”
Amy added, “And what they injected into Lucas. Did they give you shots?”
“They slipped me some mind-altering shit, LSD or something. The nurse dude said it would open my mind, expand my abilities. All it did was wake me out—freak me out,” he explained at their puzzled expressions. He scrubbed his fingers through hair that was dark at the roots and bright blond at the tips. “So we all have abilities. She can hear and heal. What about the rest of you?”
Lucas said, “I get premonitions.”
“And you get into people’s dreams.” He pointed at Lucas. “That was almost as weird as the acid, seeing you.” He turned to Amy.
“I talk to dead people. But I don’t see them. I do see people’s glows. ‘Auras,’ some call them, but the colors are a little different than the aura charts I’ve seen.” Rand’s was the same muddled mix of colors as the rest of the Offspring.
Rand turned to Eric. “And what about you?”
His mouth twitched. “I set people on fire.”
Rand’s eyes widened. �
��Seriously?”
Pride seeped into Eric’s voice. “Yeah.”
“Was that what you were trying to do when you were twitching in the hallway?”
Lucas added, “Yeah, what was that about?”
Eric’s slight smiled fled. “The enemy Offspring got into my head. He was saying stuff, telling me I was going to die. I was too busy trying to get the bastard out of my head to start a fire.”
That gave Amy a shiver. “That’s a hell of a lot worse than someone just watching us.”
“Tell me about it.”
Lucas said, “You’ve got to stop that intrusion or function despite it. You can’t let it sideline you like that.”
“I know, I know. I wasn’t expecting it. And it wasn’t just voices. I could feel him in my brain, this weird, tingly pressure. They’ve got the government on their side and they’ve got at least two people like us. This guy who got into my head, he’s probably an Ultra, too.”
Amy tightened her hold on Lucas. “They might be powerful, but so are we. And we’ll get stronger with more of us. We have two names from Cyrus’s computer. We’ll contact them.”
Lucas rubbed the welt on his chest. “We’ve got to be careful, though. We don’t know who the enemy Offspring are. Or how many work for Darkwell.”
Eric said, “Talk to Cyrus, Amy. See if he can give you more names. We’re going to need as many of us as we can get.” His fingers tightened on the wheel. “So we get them before they get us.”
Gerard studied the old case files for BLUE EYES. He wasn’t psychic—he wished he was—but he had a feeling there was something buried there. The attack on the facility and rescue of the prisoners was only a setback. The injured men were being treated, cover stories had been created, and now that the facility was cleaned up, he would forge on to victory.
At the knock on his door, he looked up to see Pope walk in. He stood to shake his hand.
Pope was imposing, six-foot-five, a slick, shaved head, and well-defined features. He was striking, not the kind of man to blend in.
“Thanks,” Gerard said. “You saved my ass, but more importantly, you saved the program.”
Pope settled into the chair, which was way too small for his tall frame. “Is this related to BLUE EYES?”
“The offspring of those subjects.”
“No mysterious substances being injected into them, I trust.” Pope had been there for that clean up, too. Oddly, he didn’t look as though he’d aged a day since then.
“The Offspring already have enhanced powers, inherited from their parents. We’re onto amazing things here, Pope.”
“Tell me.”
“Are you sure you want to know? Usually you prefer to stay in the dark.”
Pope’s smile was colored by a childlike curiosity, an odd thing on a man like him. “I’m intrigued.”
Gerard hoped he didn’t want to get involved as he filled Pope in on the current program, leaving out the fact that he’d managed to get hold of the essence of the Booster. “Next time I’ll be ready for them. I hope I won’t need you again.” He waited for Pope to leave; he was never one to sit around and chat.
Pope didn’t leave. He sat in silence for a few minutes, giving away nothing of whatever he was thinking about. Finally he said, “You have files on the Offspring.”
“Yes,” Gerard replied, drawing out the word.
“I’d like to see them.”
Gerard hesitated. “May I ask why?”
“I didn’t ask you why you needed my services.”
Gerard hated the powerless feeling that heated his skin. He logged into the database and turned his laptop toward Pope.
He spent a long time reading the Offspring files. “Lucas Vanderwyck. Was he your first prisoner?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me what he was like when he was here.”
Gerard became more and more uncomfortable, but he told Pope how Lucas had killed two terrorists and become more agitated as his captivity dragged on.
Pope kept reading. Gerard walked behind him once, ostensibly to pull something out of the file cabinet, and saw that he was reading Eric Aruda’s file. He was particularly interested in the Rogues.
Finally, Pope turned the laptop around to face Gerard. “I want copies.”
When it became apparent that he meant now, not at some time in the future, Gerard printed out each record. As they came off the printer, Pope picked them up and thumbed through them.
Olivia opened his door after a quick knock and started to say something when she saw Pope. She eyed him with wary curiosity. Gerard didn’t bother to do introductions. “Come back later.”
Getting a glimpse of one of the records, she was obviously surprised that he would share his information. She didn’t know Pope.
Neither did Gerard, for that matter. No one knew who he was or his origins. He went by the last name Pope, but that probably wasn’t his real name. Gerard knew he had connections way up in the government, but like Steele, couldn’t be tied to anyone. He had power and money. Thankfully, Pope was on his side.
Once the last file was printed, Pope put it in a folder with the rest. “Keep me informed. Maybe I can be of further help.”
The prospect of that both excited and worried Gerard, but he said, “I will.”
He watched Pope walk to his black Aston Martin. As soon as the sleek vehicle pulled out of the parking lot, he called Steele. Robbins knocked at the same time and entered. Since the siege, he’d had a scared rabbit look on his face. Gerard nodded for him to close the door as Steele came on the line.
“It’s me. Any luck finding Zoe Stoker?”
“I’m on her trail now.”
“You’re having a hard time with these women, Steele. You’re not soft on them, are you?”
“I don’t like women,” he said in a tone that showed he was serious. “Conniving, sneaky bitches. These Offspring women are even sneakier. But I’ll get her.”
“When you return, I have another assignment for you. For a change, we know what their next step will probably be. You can redeem yourself.” He hung up.
Robbins’s face paled even more. “Zoe Stoker? But why?”
“Diamond made a call to her just before he went traitor on us. We don’t know what he told her, but it’s likely she’s not going to be an asset now. We can’t take the chance in any case.”
“Sir, I can’t be part of this anymore.”
“Once we take out the Rogues, we can proceed without risk. No need to be afraid.”
“It’s not that. It’s…I can’t stand taking people and forcing them to do things.” His expression hardened. “The killing. I know about Leon. My God, you had Lucas kill your own brother.”
“I had to protect DARK MATTER. I’m not letting anyone close me down, not this time. I’m too close to saving our country. We are the ghosts, invisible soldiers waging an invisible war on our enemies.”
“How many deaths will you justify for your cause? Will you kill me because you think I might be a threat? What about any Offspring who don’t measure up? They’re not useful, but they know too much. Will they go, too?”
Fury raced through his veins, but he was a master of cold control. “If I have to.”
“I want out of the program. I never wanted to be here in the first place.”
Gerard leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. “There’s only one way out.”
Robbins’s face paled, and he turned and left without a backward glance.
The man was merely shook up, Gerard thought. He’d come around.
He had better things to do than worry about his subordinate. He pulled out the BLUE EYES files. Something kept nagging him, and frankly, he needed the diversion.
Hours later he found what his sixth sense told him was there. “Son of a bitch. How did I miss this?” He inhaled deeply. Smiled. “Merry Christmas and Happy Birthday to me. I just found buried treasure.”
EPILOGUE
Amy snuggled up against Lucas in bed that
night, her finger tracing the red welt on his chest. “I don’t think I can take much more of you almost dying.”
He pushed her hair back over one ear. “Maybe we should stop this right now. It’s not going to get any less dangerous. For me or for you.”
She looked at those blue-gray eyes, so serious and protective. “Do you really think we can stop?”
That got a Mona Lisa smile out of him. “Only if you get away from us, from here. You said Cyrus gave you a contact for a new identity.”
“I already have a new identity. I thought I was loner Amy, content in her safe little world, opening her heart only to a dream lover. I am not Amy who runs away from love and danger. Especially not love. All my life I felt different from other kids. Now I belong.”
Lucas said, “Yeah, with a bunch of misfits.”
“Just like me. Most importantly, Lucas, I belong with you. So stop trying to protect me from danger, from heartbreak…from you. From the time I discovered you were real—no, before that, when you broke into my apartment and they took you away—I sensed a connection between us. It would have been much easier to have believed, as Cyrus told me, that you were a psychotic serial killer. I couldn’t let you go, though. Not then, not now.”
He was still smiling, though it was bittersweet. He rubbed the cross pendant he’d insisted she wear again. “I just don’t want to hurt you. I don’t know what’s going to happen with these episodes I get.”
“We’ll handle it, love,” she said, using an endearment he’d used in their dreams. It hurt that he wouldn’t use it now. He took her hand and kissed her palm, something else he’d done in their dreams. She closed her eyes, savoring the gesture. “I love the way you touch me, the way you kiss me…everything.”
“I love you.”
She opened her eyes. “Did you say—”
“I love you,” he said, looking so very serious now. “I love your freckles and your wild hair and your smile—definitely your smile—and even your tears when you couldn’t bear to lose me, and I thought, ‘Damn, this woman really loves me. How did I get so lucky?’”
Emotion washed over her, putting a different kind of tears in her eyes. She kissed him soft and sweet. “I’m too tired to do much more than that.” She grinned. “Hey, how about you come to my dreams?”
