Out of the Darkness

by Jaime Rush

  Zoe’s eyes widened at the sight of him; she had a side view, which probably wasn’t as covered. Sleepy to awake in 2.2 seconds, Petra thought with a smile.

  “See you upstairs.” She left them to get ready.

  Zoe glanced over at Rand and shrugged. “Must be important.” She tried really, really hard to not let her gaze drop to the swath of creamy white skin that the sheet he’d hastily pulled up didn’t cover. The curve of his ass, the dusting of hair over his muscular thighs…looking!

  Worse, he’d caught her. Instead of being arrogantly smug, though, his green eyes heated with desire. She’d thrown on a long shirt when Petra knocked, and she realized that much of her legs were showing, too.

  “Have to…” She nodded back into the room and then closed the door. Damn. Get a grip on yourself, Zoe girl. He’ll be gone soon, and you do not want to get involved. How she’d felt when he begged off from letting her ride back with him on Blue should be a warning. Besides, Eric was right; sexual distraction was dangerous.

  She threw on hip-hugger cotton pajama bottoms and a tank top with a swirly design that camouflaged skulls, then went into the bathroom to throw on some makeup. When she went upstairs, everyone was waiting around the dining table for her.

  Rand raised an eyebrow at her. “You put on makeup in the middle of the night for a meeting with us?”

  “I don’t go anywhere without makeup, so get over it.” She took a seat and tried not to notice that he’d only thrown on a button-down shirt, leaving it open in front. “So what’s up? Did you find out more about Wallace?”

  They’d searched on the Internet and found that he’d authored several papers on fungus and slime molds. They knew where he’d been a professor, but none of that helped.

  Eric sneered. “Petra had another rendezvous with Cheveyo, our mysterious ally.”

  Petra narrowed her eyes at him and looked at the group. “Remember when I felt someone remote-viewing us a few days ago and I told her stuff? It was Nicholas Braden.”

  Lucas stiffened. “The Braden who works for the enemy?”

  “Yes, but he’s got doubts about the program. I think I convinced him that Darkwell’s the enemy. He wants to talk to us.” Petra looked at the group. “Look, we know he’s a good guy. He volunteers to search for remains so families have closure, and Cheveyo’s been in his head; he senses that Nicholas is okay. He probably has no idea what Darkwell’s really up to. Now that we have him questioning, he’s done some digging.”

  Amy said, “If he does come over to our side, we’ll find out more about the new program. And he’s the one who can find people.” She looked at the group. “Like Robbins.”

  Eric didn’t look convinced. “What if he’s a plant? We bring him here, he learns more about us, where we’re hiding out, and it’s all over.”

  Lucas planted his elbows on the table. “He wants to talk to us, so we make the rules about the meeting and what we tell him. We assess him, see if he’s being truthful. He plays by our terms. And we test him. The test: give us Robbins.”

  Eric leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest. “This is all based on what some guy who won’t even talk to us says. You trust him because you have that dewy-gooey thing going, but we don’t.”

  Rand scrubbed his hands through his red hair, making it stick out as it had when she’d first met him. “I can arrange a meeting that will minimize our exposure. We have the advantage here because, like Lucas said, he wants to talk to us. We’ll make him jump through some hoops to do it.” He looked at each of them, excitement glowing in his eyes. “We set up a relay in Baltimore. I have some boys there who will help us. Braden meets with one of them, who takes him to another location where another of my boys takes him to another location. From there, I take him to some location where we won’t be disturbed. Lucas, you can follow us in the car, make sure everything goes as planned, then participate in the meeting. Petra and Zoe can be lookouts and work on keeping up the shield so the others can’t remote-view us.”

  His expression tightened. “We keep them out of it other than that. Out of sight.” He looked at Amy. “You, too. And before you get all ‘I’m as tough as you’ about it, remember what happened to Zoe. They’ll grab you because they know we’ll do whatever we can to get you back. You’re our vulnerability.” He looked at Eric. “You are, too. We can’t trust you to not tear in and shoot the guy if he so much as blinks the wrong way.”

  Eric shot to his feet and jabbed his finger at Rand. “You are not in charge here.”

  Lucas pressed his palms on the table’s surface. “Neither are you. Rand’s right; you’ve put us in danger twice.”

  Eric knocked a glass off the table, spewing cold milk across Zoe and Amy and sending the glass crashing to the floor. “You don’t decide to cut me out of the action.”

  “It’s a group decision.” Lucas remained calm, though his jaw ticked, giving away his tension. “We can’t take the risk until we think you’re rational enough. This time you’re backup, remaining close by if we need you but out of the relay.” He looked at the rest of them. “I say we give it a try.”

  Zoe shot to her feet just as Eric had done. “Don’t pull that old ‘protect the girls ’crap. I escaped an assassin, and even though Jerryl did grab me, I got away from him. He wouldn’t have taken me off guard if Eric hadn’t gone all Rambo.”

  Amy stood, too. “I agree. Besides, Lucas, you can’t take Nicholas to the meeting place.”

  “Because I might have an episode,” he said darkly.

  “Well that, too, but Darkwell thinks you’re dead. In case Nicholas is setting us up, it’s to our advantage if they keep thinking that.”

  Lucas nodded. “You’re right.”

  Zoe turned to Rand. “I’ll be the one to follow you.”

  Fury suffused Eric’s face. “You’re risking us all by trusting some guy we don’t even know.”

  Petra said, “Cheveyo is Lucas’s half brother.” She turned to Lucas. “He confirmed it. He wanted me to tell you that his father loved your mother very much.”

  Eric narrowed his eyes. “Obviously being related to someone doesn’t ensure loyalty. Look at you.”

  Petra turned to the group, ignoring him. “I say we vote. How many in favor of Rand’s plan?”

  Everyone’s hand went up except Eric’s.

  Lucas said in a low voice, “How many agree that Eric stay out of the direct action?”

  Slowly, the same hands went up.

  Eric stomped out of the room and slammed his door. Petra winced.

  Lucas shook his head but turned to Rand. “Tell me about these ‘boys’ you mentioned.”

  Rand glanced at Zoe as she dabbed at the milk across her shirt, then to the group. “These are street dudes. They know the ins and outs of the city and where the abandoned buildings are.”

  Lucas stood. “I’ll print out a map of Baltimore. You’re sure these guys will help us?”

  Zoe nodded, as Rand said, “Yeah, I think they will. The plan has to protect them, though. No one will be in contact with Braden for very long, then they’re gone.”

  Over the next hour, they worked out an elaborate relay system. Lucas raised his eyebrow whenever Rand brought up another nickname as he worked through his plan. Rand again glanced at Zoe, the tiniest smile at the corner of his mouth.

  She smiled back. It was nice to know his secret. Nicer yet that he trusted her with it.

  Rand stood and stretched, raising his shirt to expose his narrow hips. “I’m going to crash. Tomorrow I’ll head into Baltimore, see if they’re game. We’ll take it from there.”

  Tomorrow. Her mother would be at the revival. As though he were reading her mind, Rand looked over at her. “I can take you to your mother if you want.”

  She smiled, swallowing a knot in her throat. “Thanks.”

  Damn. It was easier when he was being a jerk. Then it was just the lust factor tearing at her. When he revealed that he cared, even just a little, her feelings for him tore ev
en deeper. And her heart was too fragile to let him in.

  Amy walked into the bedroom, closing the door behind her as she turned on the light. Arms grabbed her around the waist and spun her into a hard body. Before she could even think, a warm, soft mouth covered hers.

  She smiled beneath the kiss and threaded her fingers up into the soft waves of his hair.

  He made hungry sounds as he devoured her, his hands trailing over her body, trying to make up for the lost time and agony they’d endured. After kissing her crazy, he tilted her off-balance, and they fell onto the bed. He stripped off her clothes, and she let out a soft moan when she realized he was already naked. Hard and naked.

  He growled as he nuzzled her neck and licked along the shell of her ear. She growled when he whispered, “When I come tonight, I’m going to wail like a banshee.”

  CHAPTER 22

  Z

  oe’s arms tightened around Rand’s waist as he maneuvered the bike through the traffic going to the revival. She didn’t have to hold on to him, but she wanted to. The revival was being held in a large auditorium that had seen better days. He found a spot at the end of a row for an easy escape…just in case. They’d already met with Rand’s boys and gone over the plan. Every one of them had signed on, even without knowing what they were really involved in. The fact that there was a possibility of danger actually excited them. Their loyalty had touched her, and though Rand didn’t let it show, she knew it touched him, too. She had found Sly’s slide show on Taze’s MySpace page. Rand’s painting, showing a boy falling in a forest, formed a lump in her throat even now.

  She’d also sneaked into her tattoo shop and grabbed her equipment and several blue tubes of ink. She’d fought not to sit and absorb the shop…or to cry at the thought of never seeing it again.

  Rand killed the engine and lifted off his helmet, taking in the crowd with amazement. Vendors were set up to sell food and drinks, filling the air with sinful scents of sausages and fried dough.

  “Crazy, isn’t it? My mom dragged me to one of these when I was sixteen. In protest, I wore a sweatshirt that said TEASER across the front. I didn’t let her see it until we got there, and I wore nothing underneath it so she couldn’t make me take it off.”

  He shot her a grin. “You were a she-devil, weren’t you?”

  She stared at the crowd streaming into the convention center like ants to a morsel. “Sometimes I wanted to act like the terrible person she thought I was.”

  “And now you want her to see you as what you are—just a normal woman with extraordinary abilities.”

  “Yeah.” She hung up her helmet. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. This won’t be a long, drawn-out reunion scene.”

  He looked at her. “Nervous?”

  She rocked her hand. “Ish.” With a deep breath, she turned.

  She merged with the crowd, wearing some of Amy’s more ordinary clothing to blend in. As she’d gone through her clothing, Amy had admitted she’d worn drab clothing most of her life and no makeup to blend in, making up for the fact that she felt like such an oddity. That was before Petra had gotten hold of her. Zoe thought it was amusing that she had used the opposite strategy: dress a bit outrageously to put distance between her and other people.

  Her curls were soft, though probably flattened by the helmet. This was the most normal-looking her mother would have seen her in years, though the black hair might surprise her. She was going to go back to her natural color as soon as she could.

  She kept her gaze down, her arms wrapped around herself, and walked to the back where equipment was being unloaded and carried into the cavern of the building. A security guard stood near the doors, eyeing her approach. She obviously didn’t belong there.

  “I need to talk to Anne Withers. Please tell her that her daughter wants to see her.”

  A few minutes later he returned. “She said now is not a good time.”

  “I’m sure she did. Tell her that now is the only time I have.” She met his gaze second for second as he contemplated whether he wanted to bother the preacher’s wife again. With a sigh he walked into the back again. When he returned, he waved for her to come.

  With a breath of relief, she followed him down the hall, where people bustled as though the revival were a Broadway production. He led her to the side of the stage where a heavy red curtain blocked the view of the stage and half-filled auditorium.

  Anne was giving someone directions, her arms moving in concert with her words. Zoe had taken after her dad. Anne was petite, with silver hair she kept in an efficient and simple hairstyle and large-rimmed glasses. When she looked up, her face became pinched the way Zoe often saw it where she was concerned.

  Anne walked over, looking around as though she hoped no one would see her talking to this lawless street urchin. “Are you trying to ruin our revival? Do you know that you’re wanted by the police?” Her whispered voice got shrill on that. “Are you trying to drag us into your moral morass?”

  “Moral morass? Moral morass? You’ve got to be kidding me.” Zoe lowered her voice, relieved that no one was working nearby. “Mom, it’s a setup. I came here to tell you the truth. About Dad, about me.” She took hold of her mom’s arms. “Just hear me out. That’s all I ask.”

  “Your father has nothing to do with—”

  “He has everything to do with my situation. You need to hear this.”

  Her mother held in the protest with tightened lips. “Fine. Talk.”

  Zoe nodded for them to walk off to the side. “You remember when you said I had probably inherited what made him crazy? Do you know what that did to me? It scared me. I began to worry that I’d walk into my shop and shoot my employees. So I started looking into what Dad was involved in before he…before he killed those people. Do you know what he was doing?”

  “He said it was classified, and that’s all he told me.”

  “It was an experiment that brought in people who had psychic abilities to help in the war against terrorism.”

  “That explains a lot.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If your father was psychic, he had the seed of Satan in him.”

  “Psychic abilities aren’t evil. It’s all in how a person uses them. We’re just tapping in to a part of our brain that most people don’t use. God made our brains this way.”

  “Sacrilege!”

  “Mom, listen to me. Dad didn’t do that horrible thing, not really. The shooting was a result of a substance the government was giving him to boost those abilities. That’s what made him crazy. Before Granddad dies, you have to tell him his son wasn’t an awful person, that something that was put in his body made him do that. I inherited Dad’s psychic ability. That’s why things fly around when I get emotional. It’s called telekinesis. And now that I’ve found out about what they did to Dad, the man behind that project wants me out of the picture. That’s why he planted drugs in my apartment.”

  Zoe squeezed her arm. “I have never done drugs. I have never sold drugs. I’ve never even touched drugs. I need you to believe me, to know that I’m not evil or bad.” That need grew inside her chest. “Please. I’m sorry we haven’t been close, but I’m your daughter. And right now I need a mother.” Those last words had come out, surprising Zoe by the depth of emotion behind them. She thought she’d convinced herself that she didn’t need a mother.

  Anne looked at her, really looked at her. For a moment, Zoe thought she might believe, or at least consider it. Her body tensed at the thought, straining toward her mother.

  “Zoe, turn yourself in to the police. Get help. Once they clear that stuff out of your system, you can get counseling. And though I can’t publicly be involved—the Lord knows Harry can’t have that kind of scandal attached to his reputation—I will be there to support you as much as I can. I’ll pay for rehab and the counselor if you begin to attend church once you’ve served your sentence, and…”

  Zoe tuned out her mother, feeling her chest cave in and her eyes water in anger and dis
appointment.

  “…the judicial system may be lenient since it’s your first…”

  Zoe backed away, unable to hear another word. She spun around—and right into Rand.

  Rand, who’d been standing there listening to her pour out her heart. “Damn you.” She pushed at him and stalked away, her cheeks burning in humiliation.

  She sensed him behind her as she wended her way to the parking lot. It took everything in her not to turn around and deck him.

  She stopped only when she reached the bike, where she stuffed the helmet onto her head. He grabbed her arm to turn her around, but she pushed him away.

  He gave a quick glance to the heavens. “I just wanted to make sure you were all right.”

  “No, you were intruding on my space, my private moment. I told you I wanted to go in alone.”

  “It’s not safe for any of us to go off alone.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “That coming from mister leave-me-alone, ride-off-into-the-sunset-by-myself. Perfect, just perfect. Let’s go.”

  “Look, what your mother said—”

  “Go!” she shouted, climbing onto the bike without him. “I don’t want to talk about it, especially to you, mister don’t-want-to-be-involved.”

  Shaking his head, he climbed on the bike. She didn’t hold on to him. What total, freaking humiliation! Not only to be dissed by her mother after admitting to the woman that she needed her—dumb move there, Zoe—but to have Rand witness it. Shame washed over her again.

  For once she was glad to be on a bike, where conversation was limited. If she never spoke to Rand again, that would be fine with her. Maybe he’d leave soon, today, tomorrow.

  Thirty minutes later, he pulled into a parking lot of an apartment building. She remembered the place. He lived there, next door to the woman with the sick daughter. Great, a stop for more supplies.

  He pulled the bike behind the Dumpster, parked it, and got off. She reluctantly climbed off, too, jamming her hands under her armpits and looking everywhere but at him. When she sensed him waiting for her, she said, “Go ahead and get what you need, or say hi to your girlfriend or whatever.”