by Jena Leigh
* * *
Declan scrolled through ZNN’s news feed for the fourth time that hour, scouring the latest headlines for anything that might have involved Alex or the obvious use of a Variant ability.
If Linus was right about Carter’s plans to go public with their existence, it was only a matter of time now before the Director set her plans in motion. And if the Agency found a way to push Alex in the same way they pushed Jezza, there was no telling just how catastrophic the fallout might be.
One thing was for certain—any grand display of Carter’s devising was bound to make headline news.
“See anything yet?” asked Kenzie as she and Nate joined him in the living room.
“Nothing,” he replied. “But I’m still looking.”
Kenzie settled down on the floor beside Brian’s recliner. Their baby brother hadn’t moved much at all over the last two days, except in those rare moments when Red forced him to take breaks to eat and to sleep. Even now, Brian sat with his eyes closed, lost in meditative concentration.
“How’s your jumping ability, Decks?” asked Nate.
Declan frowned. “Fading fast. I’m going to need to hunt down another jumper sometime in the next twelve hours to recharge it, or we’ll have to start traveling places the old fashioned way.”
Normally he would have gone to Alex or Cil—or Ozzie, if they weren’t around. Without them, he wasn’t sure who he could go to. The only other names that sprang to mind could only have been found at The Corner Pocket.
Clenching his jaw to stifle the emotions threatening to overtake him, Declan returned his attention to the laptop to avoid meeting anyone’s eye.
“It’s fine. Just ask Pike,” said Nate.
Wait. Pike was a jumper? Declan reached out with his senses and recognized the familiar electrical signature that went hand in hand with a jumping ability. It was faint, but crystal clear now that he knew to look for it.
He’d been so distracted with everything else he hadn’t even noticed it before now.
“In the meantime,” said Nate, “here.”
A steaming cup of coffee appeared hovering in the corner of Declan’s vision.
He accepted it without looking away from the screen, took a sip… and then glanced curiously into the rippling black contents of his mug before fixing his brother with a puzzled expression.
Nate shrugged, embarrassed. “Couldn’t find any cream to top it with, but if there was ever a night to take your coffee Irish…”
Declan was slow to see the drink for what it was—a peace offering. A small gesture on Nate’s part meant to apologize for his steady stream of callous comments and the lousy mood he’d worn like a shroud since the night they lost the others.
Nate had mellow slightly over the course of the afternoon, funneling his anger into finding possible answers to their situation instead of raging uselessly over their inability to take immediate action.
His brother wasn’t in the habit of apologizing to Declan outright. Gestures like this one were as close to an “I’m sorry” as he usually got.
“Thanks,” said Declan, taking another slow sip. He gestured to his brother with the mug. “Sláinte.”
“Sláinte agad-sa,” Nate replied, taking a swig of his own drink.
Declan bit back an urge to smile at his brother’s butchered pronunciation, knowing it would ruin the moment.
“Aww,” said Kenzie, not bothering to hide her amusement. “Nate, that accent was so bad it was actually kind of adorable. But points for getting the response right this time.”
“Hey, at least I’m trying. Irish Gaelic is even harder for me to parse than Japanese.” His expression hardened as he stared at the back of the laptop and his thoughts returned to the task at hand. “We need to be ready to move the second the news breaks. If we act fast, we might be able to get there in time to stop Lex from doing too much damage.”
“Yeah.” Kenzie leaned back against the recliner. “Still trying not to think about how we might have to stop her. Not sure I’m ready for that.”
Declan wasn’t sure he was ready, either. He shifted the borrowed computer from his lap to the coffee table and tilted the screen further back, setting his mug down beside it.
Perched on the edge of the couch, Declan leaned forward to continue his endless scroll through the torrent of depressing news reports. Political disputes, corporate corruption, wildfires, floods, and yet another extensive oil spill in the Gulf dominated that night’s headlines… but there was nothing so far that hinted at the public use of a Variant ability.
A news blurb about the unexpected eruption of a dormant volcano in Russia caught his eye and Declan stopped scrolling.
Was Alex powerful enough to set off a sleeping volcano?
Using an earth-wielding ability, with her immense strength… it definitely wasn’t out of the realm of possibility.
But the event itself felt entirely wrong. It would have been a showy display for Carter’s great Variant unveiling, certainly. It also would have been damn near impossible to prove that it was Alex that set off the explosion. And why pick a volcano in Russia?
No.
This one was almost certainly Mother Nature’s doing.
He kept scrolling.
Without warning, Brian jerked forward in the recliner and startled everyone in the room by shouting, “Incoming!”
Declan glanced up from the laptop just in time to witness the violet flash preceding the arrival of a jumper. It was followed instantly by the hollow sound of displaced air being forced outward by the sudden appearance of two individuals.
A moment of stunned silence followed.
“Holy crap,” said Kenzie, just as Nate muttered, “What the…”
Pike rounded the corner from the hallway and added to the chorus with a startled, “Shit fire and save the matches!”
Alex looked around, scanned the faces of everyone present… and laughed.
“I can’t believe that worked!” she said in a mixture of relief and utter disbelief.
Declan shot to his feet. Drawing on the fading remnants of his jumping ability, he summoned an orb of electricity and took aim at Jezza.
“Whoa!” Jezza’s arms shot up in a gesture of surrender. “It’s me! It’s just me. I’m in control. Alex fried the device.”
“Device?” asked Nate. “What device?”
Alex moved to stand protectively in front of Jezza and Declan lowered his hand, dissolving the orb.
“It’s okay, honest,” said Alex. “We’re both in control again.”
The front door opened and Brandt, drawn by the commotion, stepped inside. He’d spent the last half hour wandering around Pike’s property after complaining of cabin fever and insipid company.
“How in heaven’s name did they get here?” he asked.
For the moment, Declan couldn’t care less how she got there—all that mattered right now was that Alex was standing right there in Pike’s living room, just a few short feet away.
And as far as he was concerned, that was three feet too many.
Declan closed the distance, pulled Alex into his arms, and kissed her gently. The currents danced between them as his jumping ability was revived—along with half a dozen others he hadn’t been expecting. The Agency must have wanted her to be prepared for anything.
He ran his fingers down the side of her face, looking her over carefully as he murmured, “You okay?”
Alex nodded. “Fine.” A shadow fell over her expression. “Though I can’t say the same for the others.”
She pulled away from him and stared unseeing through the floor as she attempted an explanation.
“My aunt, Grayson, Aiden, and Linus are still being held by Carter at an Agency black site… and Cassie…” Alex’s voice broke and her eyes grew watery. “She’s—”
“Alive!” said Brian.
He leapt from the recliner and waved his arms about as though he were standing in the middle of a road trying desperately to stop an oncoming vehic
le.
“She’s alive, Alex. I swear! I think you hurt her, but you definitely didn’t kill her.” His face scrunched as though regretting his word choice and he added, “I mean you didn’t hurt her, Lex, technically Carter’s device did, but—”
“For shit’s sake, people. What device?” Nate interrupted.
“Cassie’s still alive?” Alex asked. “And you’re sure, Brian?”
The boy nodded emphatically.
“Oh, thank God.” Alex wobbled a bit on her feet, her strength having apparently deserted her. “I really thought that I…”
Declan wrapped his arm around her jacket-lined shoulders and she sank tiredly against him.
“What about Trent?” Jezza’s voice was barely a whisper.
Brian’s expression turned solemn. “I’m sorry. I haven’t seen anything yet. Ozzie took Trent somewhere to get him help just after…” he trailed off. “But so far we haven’t been able to locate them.”
Jezza nodded, struggling to keep the emotion from her face. Alex reached out and took the girl’s hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
“How did you get away, Alex?” asked Nate.
Alex bit her lower lip, hesitating a moment before beginning her explanation.
“Carter’s developed an implant that can control Variants,” she said slowly. “Her plan was to send Jezza and me on a killing spree in Bay View, turn the normals against our kind, and then use their fear and hatred to justify implanting us all with the devices.” As she spoke, her expression hardened and anger filled her voice. “She almost pulled it off, too. I got lucky and managed to resist my orders just long enough to short circuit our implants before anyone was hurt.”
Brandt eyed her warily. “This device. It’s still inside you?”
Alex nodded, reaching up to touch the back of her neck. “Grayson seemed to think they were surgically attached to our brain stems.”
“Shit, Lex,” Nate muttered. “It’s a miracle you didn’t kill yourselves when you fried the damn things.”
“Better us than those kids on the beach,” Jezza said. “Trust me… Alex did the right thing.”
“Kids on the beach?” asked Declan.
“Marcie Anders was throwing a party,” said Alex, her face clouding even further. “Carter’s original orders were for us to crash the annual Summer’s End bash at the Boardwalk. Our handler saw the bonfire and decided we needed to stop there first.”
“Your handler?” Kenzie echoed.
Jezza huffed. “This total asshat named Harrison. God, I’d love to give that guy a swift kick in the junk.”
Nate snorted a laugh. “Harrison, huh? How’s his hand?”
Alex arched an eyebrow. “Injured and wrapped in a brace.”
“Oh, please,” said Jezza with the barest hint of a smile. “Please tell me you had something to do with that.”
Nate nodded. “He managed to get the drop on me awhile back. Tugged a foul-smelling bag over my head and teleported me to an Agency facility without warning. Bastard’s lucky I only shattered his wrist instead of ripping his damn arm off.”
Declan’s brow furrowed. “When did that happen?”
Nate shook his head. “Ages ago. Back when we first moved to Bay View and I was still stuck working for Carter.”
“What I want to know,” said Pike, “is how in the name of all that is holy did you even find us here?”
“Oh that.” Alex’s mouth quirked upward at one corner. “Taught myself a new trick.”
“Care to elaborate?” asked Declan.
“I just thought about you and then jumped, Decks,” she said. “It’s how I arrived way out at sea when I first jumped to the past. I was focused on Nate… and so I appeared close to where he was.”
“That’s…” he trailed off.
“Impossible?” she finished. “Yeah. I’m thinking it’s time we rewrote that rule book of yours. More and more of it is turning out to be wrong.”
First Alex figures out how to hijack his jumps and now she teleports to a person instead of a destination? Screw revising the rule book. He was ready to toss it out entirely.
Brandt cleared his throat. “As delightful as these pointless segues have been, do you mind if we return to the more pressing issue? The one wherein two of our number are currently waltzing around with Agency tech inside their heads? Have you people never heard of tracking devices?”
“We told you,” said Jezza. “Alex nuked the implants.”
“And you’re sure of that?” asked Brandt. “You’re absolutely certain they can’t use them to follow you here? That they can’t be reactivated somehow?”
Alex frowned. “Well, I guess that’s all the more reason to act now, before Carter finds a way to track us down.”
“What did you have in mind, Lex?” asked Declan.
Her hands balled into fists and she took a step forward, her face filled with an emotion he’d never seen grace her features before. Declan was well acquainted with the way Alex looked when she was annoyed—he’d been on the receiving end of such expressions more times than he could count.
This was different.
This was nothing less than carefully contained rage.
He felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise as Alex’s fury filled the room with a cloud of static electricity.
“We’re going to get our friends back. Our family back,” she said. “This time, we take the fight to them.”
Twenty-Six
Cassie dragged her pointer finger down the smooth black wall, trying not to think about Bay View, Alex, or her family—and failing miserably.
She wondered what lies the Agency fed her parents to account for her sudden disappearance. Had she been abducted by the Grayson’s? Run away willingly to start a life of crime with her bestie?
How had they explained away the great gaping hole that had once been her bedroom wall?
Had they brought in a pusher to strip her family of their memories? Were her parents still looking for her, or had life already returned to normal for the Harper clan?
Cassie tried not to imagine her family at the Summer’s End celebration. She tried not to picture Alex, with eyes as dark as the Agency’s cell walls, taking aim at Runt and Danny. She tried not to think about the classmates and neighbors who would lose their lives—and the guilt Alex would carry afterward.
Honest. She tried.
Under normal circumstances, she never would have given in to this line of negative thinking. She would have forced herself to search for solutions instead. Right now, however, she couldn’t help but give in to this indulgent moment of self-pity.
Cassie closed her eyes and rested her forehead against the cold stone, allowing the dull ache in her skull and the muted thunk of Aiden’s foot connecting with his cell wall to drown out the noise of her thoughts.
Aiden’s efforts would occasionally stop for what felt like hours at a stretch before picking up again. She worried about the state of his feet. There was no earthly way they were still in one piece after the beating he’d been inflicting on them.
His steadfast refusal to give up hope made her own defeatist attitude that much more pathetic by comparison.
Aiden was fighting… and Cassie was feeling sorry for herself.
It wasn’t like her to give up this completely.
Then again, the last time she found herself this far up shit creek without a paddle, Samuel Masterson had just thrown her unconscious body into the trunk of a car.
Cassie sighed.
Seriously, though. What the hell was she even doing here? And what could she possibly do to help get herself and the others out of this mess? She wasn’t a Variant. She wasn’t even particularly useful. She couldn’t fight. She didn’t have superhuman abilities.
She was just… Cassie Harper. Seventeen-year-old normal whose only specialty lay in being the oldest friend of the most powerful girl on the planet.
Cassie narrowed her eyes.
“Hey, guys?” she whispered.
Eventually, Cil replied with a faint, “Yes, love?”
“What day do you think it is?” Cassie asked, struggling to keep her voice low and still be heard by the others.
“Friday, I believe,” said Grayson. “No. Wait. It’s after midnight, now. It’s Saturday… Or at least it would be, if we were still in Montana.”
Cassie smirked.
“Why do you—oh!” Cil’s voice took on a note of pity. “Your birthday. Oh, Cass. I’m so sorry. This probably isn’t the eighteenth birthday celebration you had in mind.”
The repetitive thunk emanating from Aiden’s cell paused.
“It’s your birthday?” asked Aiden.
Cassie laughed bitterly. “Looks like.”
Another, much louder thunk radiated through the wall—accompanied this time by the sharp crack of shattering stone.
Silence descended over the cellblock.
Cassie held her breath, waiting for the sound of pounding feet or the wail of a siren. Anything that would indicate the guards had taken notice of Aiden’s unexpected success in breaking the obsidian wall.
Nothing.
Linus’s voice interrupted the stillness, asking “Did you just—?”
“Be quiet,” Grayson ordered.
“Right,” said Linus. “Sorry.”
Cassie took Aiden’s continued silence for success.
Sometime soon, the guards would be bringing them another meal.
Sometime soon, Aiden would have his chance to act.
She sat up a little straighter on the bench, shelving every negative thought that had crossed her mind over the course of the last few hours. One way or another, they were going to get out of here—and Cassie refused to let herself think otherwise. From now on, there would be no room for negative thoughts or self-pity.
Funny how much the crack of shattering stone sounded like hope in this dark and oppressive place.
With any luck, Cassie Harper would taste free air again before her birthday was over.
Clinging to that optimistic thought, she rallied her courage, prepared to move when the moment finally came, and readied herself to wait.
