Loyalty

by Carrie Butler

  “You are both fucking dead,” I spat, getting up. Before Maverick could even turn around, I’d kicked him so hard he flew back. I caught Rena and spun for Gail.

  She gaped, her eyes widening behind her frames. “W-Wait! She assaulted me. He was only trying to—”

  “I’ll take this one,” a low voice cut in behind me.

  I turned with tensed muscles and begrudgingly deferred to my brother, knowing revenge was rightfully his at this juncture. “You sure?”

  Wallace didn’t answer me, his gaze fixated on the sadistic bitch who’d used him as a puppet. Without blinking, he ripped off what was left of his shirt and wound the pieces around his hands. He took one step, then another, and reached for her.

  Little Miss High and Mighty cowered.

  His arm grazed the side of her face as he grabbed the wrought iron shepherd’s hook behind her. Ripping it free from the earth, he twisted the metal around her body—arms and all. “Stay,” was all he said, stepping back from her restraint.

  Gail was on the pale end of the family spectrum anyway—she didn’t have our mom’s Puerto Rican side mixed in—but now she looked downright ghostly. “Y-You will regret this. The local extraction team will be here any minute.”

  My brows scrunched. “I thought we were the extraction team?”

  “You were the tools through which I measured Vlad’s power.” There went that noble chin. “Surely you didn’t think we’d trust your skill set the first time out?”

  Oh no she didn’t.

  “Then they can take you back to the airport,” Wallace told her, still eerily calm as he took Rena from my arms. “Come on.”

  “Maverick!” Gail shrieked. “Get up. Now!”

  I sneered as I bent to scoop up poor, traumatized Frank Bacon. “Why don’t you just shove your mental hand up his ass like a puppet?”

  “Because honing in on someone’s psyche is like tuning into a radio station,” she snapped, “and his isn’t broadcasting.”

  “Well, don’t I feel embarrassed.” I rolled my eyes and made for the fence.

  Rena stirred and rubbed the top of her eye socket, her knuckles a perfect match for Gail’s new face paint. “Wha…?”

  Wallace held her closer as he edged around the broken planks. “I’m here.”

  “Look at you,” she rasped, ghosting her fingertips a few inches from his burnt chest. “Does it hurt?”

  “Only when I breathe, move, or air passes by.” He attempted a smile. “You?”

  “Just achy and lightheaded. And pissed. Mostly pissed.”

  I ran ahead to check the rental. Fortunately, Maverick the Boy Genius hadn’t thought to lock up before we approached our mark. Wallace helped Rena into the back, and I settled behind the wheel. Frank Bacon squealed shotgun.

  “I should’ve given you my strength before we went in,” Wallace told Sis, having already forgotten I was there. “It would’ve protected you.”

  She shook her head in the rearview mirror. “It also would’ve killed Gail when I punched her—not that it would’ve been much of a tragedy.”

  I snickered. “You shall be my favorite sister of all.”

  “Um.”

  “Shh…” I reached back to stroke her hair.

  “Cole,” Wallace warned from the other side of the backseat, his voice rough with newfound exhaustion. “What did I say about touching?”

  “Not to do it to myself in public?”

  “The other thing.”

  “Not to touch Sis unless I’m protecting her?”

  “Bingo.”

  Snort, snort, snort!

  “Et tu, Bacon?” I sighed at my adoptee and turned around to reach for the wires under the steering column. “Fine, fine. Let’s go.”

  ~

  By the time we made it back to Cleveland, it was late afternoon—a whole day wasted, in my book.

  The trip back had been even more awkward than the initial flight. Everyone nursed their wounds and avoided eye contact until we got back to ERA. Except me, of course. I healed two minutes after I’d been burned.

  Vlad, now sedated, got unloaded like luggage. Minions carted him into headquarters, and we were escorted to a familiar, secure area. Gold lights ran the length of darkened hallways that encircled a massive room.

  Unused, the white void appeared to be just another oddity within Faye’s empire. But when Rena trained with the old bat every other morning, those sophisticated panels came to life, projecting scenes on the walls, floor, and ceiling. Soundscapes were piped in. Scents layered the ambience.

  I’d broken into the viewing gallery on more than one occasion, taking advantage of the one-way glass. There were usually science types in the seats, taking notes, but they didn’t pay attention to my intrusion. Either I wasn’t distracting enough, or they were too intimidated to speak up. I liked to think it was the latter.

  Strangely enough, it appeared to be the place we were being led now…

  “Faye will be here to debrief you momentarily.” Gail slid her glasses further up her nose, like she wasn’t referring to her grandma. “Afterward, we thought you might like to see the fruits of your labor. It’s the least we can offer after our little…misunderstanding.”

  I focused less on whatever bait Frizzhead was casting and more on the word ‘debrief’. Sure, I knew it would entail giving a report about what had happened, but I couldn’t help picturing a different scenario. One where my boxers were getting tugged down by a creepy relative with one eyeball. Gah!

  Frank Bacon squirmed in my arms, as if he’d shared the daymare.

  “Misunderstanding…” Rena scoffed as we were ushered inside so the duo could retreat. “Right.”

  We didn’t discuss what had happened, knowing the whole place was bugged. That would be a conversation for later.

  Eventually, Faye made a less than typical entrance, warily approaching our row of seats with a clipboard. “Sorry to have kept you waiting.”

  “Busy morning?” I asked, kicking my legs up on the first row.

  Her expression softened. “Rudolph has taken ill.”

  “Uh oh. You didn’t take your work home with you, did you?”

  Silence.

  “Did he contract the virus?” Wallace picked up the conversation, arching one brow. “I would’ve thought you would have given him the vaccine first.”

  She slumped onto the end seat and wrung her hands. “It appears to be mutating much faster than we anticipated. This particular strain may have mutated from bats.”

  “Shit,” Rena muttered under her breath. “I mean, it’s a problem of your making, but that sucks.”

  Faye dipped her head. “Yes, I’m very much aware of that. Why don’t we go ahead here? Uh…”

  She lifted the first sheet on her clipboard and scanned the second page. “It sounds like you three had a bit of a mishap during the recruitment mission. Some physical violence within the group.”

  “Your granddaughter possessed Wallace again,” Rena explained, her face hard. “We agreed he would come along to protect me. His involvement in your affairs was not part of the deal.”

  Faye nodded. “You’re right, and I apologize for that oversight. But then it says here you assaulted Gail without direct provocation?”

  Rena’s eyes doubled in size. “Direct provocation? She got my fiancé burned! I had to do something to steal her focus, or she would’ve kept him in danger against his will. Why don’t we discuss the fact that she mentally paralyzed me so your intern could knock me out with a headbutt?”

  “Gail assures me that it was pertinent she move things along.” A sweep of Faye’s hand told us she wasn’t interested in hashing out the details. This was a formality, a means of keeping us accountable to the organization. “The virus has yet to reach that particular region, so you would’ve had witnesses to contend with, had you dallied any longer.”

  Any shred of sympathy I could’ve mustered for her disappeared. It was one thing to screw with other Dynari—they were blood, on some lev
el—but her complete disregard for everyone else pissed me off. My girlfriend was a human. If I wasn’t around to protect Rach, she’d get written off as an acceptable loss, too.

  These bastards were going down hard.

  “Is there anything else?” Wallace’s rough voice echoed around the small gallery as he shifted in his seat, unable to get comfortable in his mummy wrapping.

  “Not unless you happen to know where I might find Ms. Catley and my brother. They left in such a hurry; I’d like to send them their last paychecks.”

  Yeah right, she-devil.

  Wallace stiffened. “I have no clue.”

  “Very well. I must take my leave now, but if you’d like to be made privy to any information Vladimir might possess”—she nodded toward the glass—”you’re welcome to stay. They’re prepping him now.”

  I stood and approached the window, having missed the entrance of several people below. “You think he’s actually going to talk to the people who abducted him?”

  She smiled and made for the door. “I know he will. Do enjoy the entertainment.”

  And with that she was gone. Huh.

  Below, Vlad lay strapped to a chair, staring up at the lights, dressed in what appeared to be a scuba suit, sans the flippers and goggles. A man stood to his right in similar garb, lining up objects on a table. I squinted. Knives…

  “What is it?” Rena asked, coming up beside me. “I can’t see.”

  “They’re going to torture him.”

  “No, they’re not,” Wallace growled, making for the door.

  “I wouldn’t do that,” Gail’s shrill voice sounded from a speaker somewhere. “You see that man down there? He’s a Nullari, and he’s the only thing keeping our new friend from torching the place.”

  “So?” Wallace scanned the room with narrowed eyes.

  “So, we’re about to fill the room with hydrogen. If anyone should separate the two, Vlad will panic and unknowingly cause the whole sector to explode.”

  My breath caught in my lungs. I’d seen, and caused, a lot of messed up shit in my day, but this was sick. Wrong. From what I knew about hydrogen, the slightest bit of static could cause it to ignite in invisible flames—shit so hot you can’t see it melt your face off. There was no way Vlad or that Nullari schmuck would walk away from this. Hell, we were so close, we probably wouldn’t either. “I can get him to talk.”

  “Spare me,” Gail’s voice crackled.

  “I can,” I insisted. “You know me. I do shady shit like this all the time. No need to resort to this song and dance.”

  Wallace and Rena both gave me the do-you-know-what-you’re-doing look, and I nodded, pacing with Frank Bacon in my arms. “Believe me, Gail, you don’t want information from torture. He’ll say anything to end the pain. You gotta let me get him to trust us first. He’ll talk.”

  There was a pause. “Then how do you expect us to contain him?”

  “Can’t you just tell him there’s gas without actually releasing it and risking the facility?” I countered with a pounding heart. “Have your people parade around in that goofy looking shit the Nullari is wearing. Make it seem like more of a precaution than a threat.”

  It felt like an hour before she responded, but in reality, it must have been a few minutes. Discussing the matter with her fellow conspirators, no doubt. “We’ll try it your way first, but only because it puts the facility at considerable risk. I don’t think I need to remind you what’ll happen if—”

  “I get it.”

  “Very well,” she sighed. “We expect to see you tomorrow morning at eight on the dot.”

  And with that, the door to the gallery slid open—an unspoken grant for us to leave.

  “Way to go, negotiator,” Wallace clapped a hand on my shoulder as he sidestepped toward the aisle.

  Rena raised her eyebrows and mouthed, “Nice.”

  I followed them out and took one last look at the gallery. So this is what it feels like to have family support. Who knew?

  CHAPTER 4

  « RENA »

  Two months ago, we hid everyone who had found themselves in ERA’s crosshairs—my best friend, Gabby; our resident Nullari, Corynn; Cole’s girlfriend, Rachel; her mother, Wanda; the boys’ great-uncle, Henry; and his girlfriend, Jaya.

  Other than Clara, the boys’ grandma who was still toughing it out at home, these people were the only ones privy to our struggle. That put them at the top of ERA’s liability list and the forefront of our greatest concerns. So, we took them into steam tunnels beneath campus—a highly restricted area the administration denounced the existence of—thinking it would be a temporary living situation.

  Heh. If only…

  With the way things were progressing at the time, it felt like a safe bet to say things would come to a head in the following weeks. After all, Faye had already unleashed a tornado, released a virus, and begun experimental trials on humans. How much more would it take for things to escalate into all-out war?

  We didn’t get a chance to find out.

  The dust settled once Faye leveraged us into helping her. I began a dual regiment of therapy and training, while Aiden—my friend who took his crush to extreme levels, thanks to ERA’s SAGE experiments—lay comatose elsewhere in their headquarters. All the while, the catalyst virus continued to spread not so quietly across the country. A perfect distraction from what they were really up to. I sighed.

  Wallace looked around and lifted the grass-covered hatch, revealing a ladder that plunged into darkness. Cole went down first, using one hand on each wrung so he could hold his pig, and I followed after. Wallace came last to close off the exit.

  The freight access in the library basement was easier, but it held a greater risk of exposure, so we’d had to steer clear. The last thing we needed was security onto us. Instead, a patch of stubborn bushes behind the Rec became our point of entry. With the wall of construction equipment separating us from the rest of campus, it was almost an ideal escape.

  Almost.

  I dropped down onto the dusty floor and cursed the mind-numbing pain that still radiated from my eye. At least the idiot missed my nose.

  Caged ghost lights provided a halo every ten or fifteen feet, leaving just enough space between for a passerby to fall in complete shadow. It wasn’t as if anyone was going to get lost. There was barely enough room to go single file between the wall and the massive pipes that ran forever, creating an elaborate underground network that carried steam all over campus.

  Every once in a while, there’d be decades-old graffiti or a sign warning about trespassing, but other than that, our home away from home remained unfurnished. It made things easier when we had to relocate during maintenance checks.

  There had been gates blocking off different veins prior to our move-in, but Wallace went all Hercules and broke the locks. Now we could afford to give our ERA refugees a measure of privacy amongst the machinery and stored junk.

  If you ignored the smell and heat—and the fact that you had to do your business in a bucket or venture to the surface—it wasn’t such a bad place to lay low. When we got bored, we played “Guess Where That Random Staircase Goes,” and surface breaks were taken in the student union. With Gabby being pregnant, we tried to fit quite a few of those in. Low oxygen levels, asbestos, whatever. God only knew what all was down here.

  After a while, the straight path curved into a larger room that looked like an old screensaver, colored pipes twisting in every direction. It was noisier than other spaces, but had better lighting. We’d made it our meeting area.

  “Check out this new shit I just got,” Gabby beckoned, crouched over a big cardboard box. “Breast pump, lotion, diapers…”

  Ah, the fame that came with mommy vlogging. She had started a video diary after she first found out she was pregnant, and for kicks, decided to upload it onto the Internet. As it turned out, people loved her snark and mini baby bump. Her legion of fans grew to insane levels, and companies started sending her stuff to review. That was
the good part.

  The bad part was when her parents found out their daughter was pregnant via the Internet.

  Talk about meltdowns. They demanded she come home, but she told them she had an internship—which she did, kind of. Henry and Jaya were doctors. They let her pick their brains on things from time to time. As far as her folks knew, she was staying with us.

  “Where are you getting these things delivered?” Wallace asked, wincing as his shoulder bumped the doorframe.

  “Henry got us a PO Box,” she told him, pawing through the goodies. “Hey, you know what’d be hilarious? Let’s hook this pump up to your…”

  She trailed off when she noticed his bandages. “¡Ay Cabrón! Ace, what happened?”

  “ERA’s errand.” He grunted and collapsed onto a milk crate we’d been using as an extra chair. “The guy we went after had fire abilities, and Gail manipulated me into pinning him down.”

  “I’ve always hated that bitch.”

  “You don’t say,” I teased her as I got out the first aid kit to redo his dressings.

  Gabby snorted.

  The situation reminded me of the first time the three of us hung out, in Reid’s laundry room of all places. I’d tried so hard not to look stupid in front of the massive hunk sharing the bench with me, while Gabby jabbered on and on in the background. If someone had told me back then that he and I would end up engaged, or that Gabby would soon become a mother, I would’ve never believed it. It was funny how things changed…

  I smiled to myself as I dug through the bag of supplies.

  “Feeling nostalgic?” Wallace asked, behind me.

  I startled and threw a roll of gauze at him. “Out of my head, empath!”

  He caught it and laughed. “Maybe Henry should be tutoring you, too. Your bedside manner is terrible.”

  “You, sir, have yet to see my bedside manner,” I tormented him, sauntering over with a jar of antibiotic. “Just you wait.”

  Gabby cackled and straightened. “All right, I think that’s my cue. You guys should head to the kitchen when you’re done, though. I think they’re heating stuff up for dinner.”