“Good morning,” Ethan greeted them, looking at all three of them with blue, sparkling eyes. It was as though he hadn’t been out searching for Jane all night, as though he’d had a full night’s sleep. Sophie had no idea how he did it. “Thank you all for coming in. We have much to discuss.”
No one spoke. Instead, they sat in silence; the only noise coming from the voice in their heads, voicing their thoughts. Sophie wasn’t even sure what could be said. In her opinion, it would be best to wait for Ethan to speak, to dictate the flow of the conversation.
“First, Calvin Johnson is dead. One of our team found his body. His skull was crushed, split open. We think he fell from a good distance. Does anyone here know how he died?”
“Jane dropped him,” Sophie said without pause. “She found out he was responsible for giving the military information about peculiars and this school, so she used her telekinesis and levitated him into the sky.”
“Jane dropped him because she was hit with a bullet,” Depogare corrected with a snap.
Ethan furrowed his brow, interlocking his fingers and placing them on his desk. It wasn’t as messy as it normally was, but there was a stack of papers off to the side with a red Sharpie lying on top. His eyes danced over to Depogare.
“Explain,” he commanded, not in a rude way.
“Jane was upset at Mr. Johnson’s betrayal,” Depogare explained, his voice firm. It sounded as though he replayed the moment over and over again in his head. Sophie wouldn’t be surprised if he had, if he couldn’t sleep because he was plagued with this memory now for the rest of his life. “She reacted, as she normally does, without thinking. The girl doesn’t think.” His frustration was clear, causing his Southern accent to get more pronounced. “She lifted him up. General Arbuckle was going on about something.”
“How Sophie and Jane were important to their cause,” Will cut in. His eyes were sharp and focused; his fingers clutched the arms of the chair he sat in as he remembered what happened last night. “How the females passed on the peculiar gene. How he wanted to breed them, run experiments on them and their offspring.”
“He was going to shoot Depogare,” Sophie said. “He already had Calvin, and there was no need for Depogare. Though, it isn’t clear if he intended to kill him.”
“The gun went off,” Depogare continued. “Calvin screamed. Jane was hit. She dropped into me.”
“Wait,” Sophie said, furrowing her brow. “She didn’t push you out of the way?”
Depogare shook his head. “No.”
“The guy was a general,” Will said, looking at his colleague. “Army experience for the past thirty years. There’s no way in hell he’d miss you when you’re so close and not blocked in any way.”
“I’m telling you I’ve gone over it again and again,” Depogare all but growled. “She did not push me out of the way.”
“How is that possible?” Sophie asked. “Unless the general hit Jane on purpose.”
“There’s no way he’d risk it,” Depogare insisted.
“Wait a minute,” Ethan interjected, leaning forward. “You said Calvin screamed, and then Jane got hit with the bullet, correct?”
Will shrugged. “I was watching Michael,” he said. “I wanted to make sure that fucker stayed down after Sophie kneed him in the balls.”
“You’re correct,” Depogare said, and Sophie nodded.
“The assumption, then, is that Jane was holding Mr. Johnson up using her mental abilities,” Ethan said, his eyes bright. Sophie had no idea why he was so excited about this. It didn’t make any sense. “She got shot, and because of that, she dropped Calvin. However, the two of you insist, he screamed before she got shot.”
Both nod, and now Depogare leaned forward, his eyes just as bright as Ethan’s.
“Which means she dropped Mr. Johnson before she got shot,” Depogare stated.
“I don’t get it,” Will said, looking between both Depogare and Ethan. “What’s the big deal?”
“It means,” Depogare all but snapped, glaring at Will with black eyes filled with impatience at being interrupted; Sophie had to bite back a smirk, “Jane moved the bullet with her mind. She didn’t know how to move two things at once. Therefore, she could not hold Calvin with her mind and move the bullet simultaneously. In order to move the bullet, she had to drop Calvin.”
“Okay,” Will replied slowly, nodding his head once. “Maybe I’m just being slow, but what significance does that have for us?”
“Did anyone actually see Jane get shot?” Sophie asked before Depogare could make a snide comment about Will’s lack of intelligence.
“I know she collapsed,” Depogare answered. “I assumed she collapsed because she was hit with the bullet, but what if she fainted because of transitioning between holding Calvin and moving the bullet, then she could still be alive.”
Which meant Sophie made them leave when Jane could be alive.
“We did a physical sweep of the place,” Ethan informed them. “We did not find a body.”
“That’s good, though, right?” Will asked, raising a brow. “If there’s a body, she’s really dead. If there’s no body, she could have gotten out.”
“That, or someone took her,” Ethan said. He drummed his fingers on the flat of his desk, his periwinkle eyes staring at the movement. “I’m quite familiar with General Arbuckle, and I know he’s quite familiar with me. He knows as much about peculiars as the rest of us. He has many he’s experimented on, all voluntary. I’m certain they even signed waivers for him.”
That made no sense at all to Sophie. “If he wanted to use peculiars as weapons for the military, why have them sign waivers?” she asked. “Why treat them like humans?”
Ethan leaned back in his chair, a small smile on his face. As much as Sophie admired Ethan, she didn’t particularly admire this smile. It was as though he regarded her as young, immature, and naïve. Almost condescending. And perhaps she was all of those things, but that didn’t mean he had to be so obvious about it.
“I know the movies make men like General Arbuckle out to be the bad guys,” Ethan explained. “In real life, it’s not so black and white. I’m sure the general sees peculiars as evolved humans. Instead of trying to dominate us, he wants to use us with our permission to achieve his goals. If there are willing peculiars, why not?”
“But he has no right to out the rest of us,” Sophie all but snapped, her eyes lighting.
“Absolutely not,” Ethan agreed. “Each peculiar is still human, which means we have the same rights as humans. Nobody should force us to reveal who and what we really are without our permission. Luckily, this isn’t the movies. We’re not good and General Arbuckle isn’t all that bad.”
“He tried to kill Depogare,” Will pointed out with a growl. “He assumed that with Calvin, he didn’t need Depogare, even though he admitted he could use him. Force Jane to mate with both of them. Run tests on them, their offspring.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” Sophie interjected. Will looked as though he planned to respond, but she kept going. “I know that’s what happened from our point of view. I saw it. You saw it. I’m sure Depogare saw it that way, too. But if Arbuckle was so intent on having two male quis, why kill the more powerful one? No one doubts Calvin’s intelligence, but if Arbuckle really wanted to run tests, why kill one of the more powerful peculiars?”
“Is it possible he was threatening Depogare, with no real intent on shooting or killing him?” Ethan asked, looking between the three.
“Very possible,” Depogare agreed.
“Listen, I’m not here to defend General Arbuckle. From what you’ve told me and from what I know of him, it doesn’t seem probable he would even shoot Depogare on the off chance something could go awry. Peculiars don’t grow on trees, especially not quis. He wouldn’t risk it. Especially considering Daryl is the most powerful quis known to us.”
“The gun went off, though,” Will said. “I heard it.”
“I saw it,” Sophie added.
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“Me, too,” Depogare put in. “If we’re certain that General Arbuckle wouldn’t shoot me, then someone must have pulled the trigger.”
“Could it be … Jane?” Sophie asked, picking her eyes up from the clean floor to look Ethan in the eye. “Would Jane do something like this?”
“No,” Depogare said. “Why would she fire at herself instead of grabbing the gun with her mind?”
“Does she know how to do that?” Will asked his colleague.
Depogare opened his mouth, but shut it.
“When we were at the club, the chandelier fell on top of Michael,” Sophie said. “From what I understand, that wasn’t fate. Jane did that. Clearly, she can drop objects. Cause them to fall and move. But maybe she didn’t know how to remove an object someone had on their person physically. Maybe she saw the gun, pulled the trigger as a way to distract everyone, and it hit her.”
“Are we even sure she was hit?” Ethan posed the question with a raised brow. He looked directly at Depogare. “Have you conducted a sweep?”
“I—” He swallowed, and for the first time since Sophie met him, saw his cheeks turn pink. “I didn’t think to.”
Ethan nodded once. “Do it,” he commanded.
38
Nothing. Nada. Zip.
Daryl did a sweep for Jane’s mind—he extended it across the whole goddamn island—and nothing. Perhaps, he was being a bit too hopeful, and as a result, rushed it. He searched in general, hoping to get a hit off of something, but when he opened his eyes once more, he realized that he had not found her.
Not yet.
He clenched his jaw and closed his eyes once more. Ethan knew him well enough to know to keep his mouth shut, something Daryl was grateful for. He was known to be a perfectionist when it came to his power … skill was how he referred to his extra abilities. Ethan had called upon him when it was necessary to find missing peculiars or peculiars in general. It was how Ethan was able to find scholars for his academy. Daryl was able to distinguish who was peculiar and who was human simply by closing his eyes and focusing. Ethan took Daryl all over the world and had him use his abilities during the recruitment process. Ethan would take notes and, depending on a potential scholar’s circumstance, either brought their would-be RH Director to speak with the scholar and their family personally or wrote a letter. Daryl also helped Ethan figure who was more receptive to parting with their children and who was in denial. Nobody knew Daryl’s true importance, save for Ethan and Jared. And now Will and Sophie.
To this day, he remembered finding Jane. They were in Orange County, a hotel close to Disneyland because Jared loved the theme park and Ethan could never say no to Jared. Daryl, of course, was miserable. He wanted to be done with his final sweep so he could return to the island and forget about his dismal summer. He had been home—back in Georgia, to be specific—for a few weeks, checking on the upkeep of a cabin he owned, seeing his estranged brother for as long as he could stomach. All he wanted was to go home and rest.
Ethan forced him to go to Disneyland. It was the worst place on the planet for him, but no matter. Ethan was stubborn and persistent and annoyingly optimistic. Daryl had no choice but to go. He was waiting outside that damn ice cream shop on Main Street for Ethan and Jared; he had no idea why it was so popular when it was the same ice cream anyone could buy at the grocery store. He was so consumed in his own thoughts, he hadn’t noticed a blonde ten year old eating strawberry ice cream in a cone. It was nearly as big as her head, and she was so excited at the prospect of eating the sweet treat on this hot summer day, she wasn’t paying attention.
He didn’t see her coming. She ruined one of his favorite shirts.
Daryl opened his mouth, ready to go off on her, when something made him pause. He could feel her, even though they weren’t touching. She was brimming with power, power similar to his, though, at the time, he couldn’t explain it. Her eyes—big and green—went wide, and before either of them could prepare for it, she started laughing.
Her grandfather was with her. He apologized profusely and gave Daryl money to replace the shirt, but even the old man couldn’t help but chuckle. Daryl didn’t smile. But he kept an eye on her for as long as he could, and told Ethan of his findings.
Jane had been the only one out of all his recruits to sneak up on him like that. She wasn’t so easily forgettable, and she was exactly as he expected her to be—trying, frustrating, and brilliant. She was constantly asking questions about how and why things were the way they were, though he could offer no explanation because the answer was not yet explained by science. She aced her essays and did well on tests and exams. She struggled a bit actually doing the exercises, but that might be because of her commitment to soccer and how physically exhausted she was. She was talented, athletic, sarcastic, and fiercely loyal. She was passionate and forgiving. She was everything he wasn’t, yet he craved being around her, even if they did not speak. There was something about her that brought him to life, and with her gone …
But there was a good chance that she was not dead.
Daryl closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. He would try again and again, every hour if he had to. If it was possible for him to. He would find her, no matter what.
His black eyes rolled back and a picture of Jane formulated in his mind. It wasn’t the picture-perfect dream Jane that haunted him. It wasn’t the Jane in the beautiful blue dress from the previous night. It was Jane as he knew her—long, messy hair, bright eyes, freckles. Her smile lit up her face, made her eyes sparkle. She wore the academy uniform; plaid skirt that was too short and revealed long, toned legs she got from soccer. Her blouse was always ironed, tucked into her skirt, buttoned up appropriately. Knee-length socks. Mary Janes. He could picture the slope of her neck, the curve of her collarbone. He knew the different indents of her knees and the lines of her palms. He knew the colors in her hair and the colors in her eyes. He knew everything about her, so he focused on it all.
He stretched his mind—slowly, at first, but built it up so it was consistent and steady. This way, he wouldn’t pass over her. He would hit every corner, every crevice of the island. No stone left unturned, no room left unexplored. He would find her. He had to.
Daryl never knew how much time passed when he did this. Sometimes, he was out for minutes. Sometimes, it was hours. He never felt the passage of time; he was only aware of it after opening his eyes once again and joining reality once more. Most of the time, he would have an answer, a location or a person. Yet, there were times—however rare they were—when he came up with nothing.
When Daryl opened his eyes, he noticed a half hour had passed. Sophie and Will were still there—under usual circumstances, he didn’t like when people watched him perform a sweep because it left him vulnerable—staring at him with eager intent. It took him by surprise, if he was honest. Perhaps they didn’t want to find Jane as much as he did, but they still wanted to find her. Ethan, too.
“Well?” Sophie asked, her brow furrowed, her eyes narrowed. Her knee jiggled up and down with impatience, and her hands gripped the edge of her seat so her knuckles were white. “Anything?”
Daryl clenched his jaw. “No.” It was all he said, all he needed to say. He didn’t like admitting failure, to himself or anyone else. It happened rarely, so he didn’t have to do it much. Regardless, when he did have to do it, he hated it.
Even more than that, he hated that he failed in the first place. Jane needed him, and he couldn’t even get to her. What good was being quis when he couldn’t use his skill to get her? He refused to think that there was still the possibility that she was dead. That he couldn’t reach her because she was dead, and no matter how often he tried, it wouldn’t matter, because she was never coming back.
The story he concocted with Will, Sophie, and Ethan made much more sense. That Jane dropped Calvin in order to fire the gun. Whether she intended it to hit herself or not was irrelevant. No one knew for sure if she was injured, but there was a good chance that she was alive. T
hat was all that mattered, was all Daryl would focus on. He couldn’t give up on her, no matter what. He was certain she would never give up on him. And, more than that, she was the silver lining in his life. If he didn’t have her, he had … he had some, but his life wouldn’t shine as bright as it did when she was in it.
He had always been as logical as he could be. Yes, he was a water sign and they were known for being emotional, but Daryl prided himself on being able to control his emotions. Jane, however, changed all that. He lost himself when he was around her, and he wanted that back. He wouldn’t … couldn’t give up.
As far as he was concerned, she was alive, and that was all there was to it.
“What does that mean?” Will asked, his eyes shifting from Sophie to Daryl. “She not on the island?”
“That is one possibility,” Daryl allowed. “That, or she could still be unconscious.”
“For this long?” Sophie asked, and sat back in her chair.
“She was out three days after Dianna attacked her,” Will pointed out.
“With Dianna, she nearly died,” Sophie pointed out. “In fact, I think she technically did. All she did was possibly fire a gun. Why would that cause her to be unconscious for twelve-plus hours?”
“Jane’s emotions get the better of her,” Daryl explained. “It’s difficult for her to use her telekinesis because she’s always been an animus. That is how she’s trained. Think about your physical ability, and now pretend you’ve just learned you can shift into an entirely new entity. You would have to train in a completely new element. However, when she involved her emotions, whatever task she’d been assigned to complete is easier for her. It’s like a jump she gets, and then it zaps her energy and she faints. She’s normally only out for a few hours.”
“Could it be, possibly, that someone is keeping her in her unconscious state?” Ethan asked. His lips were curved up in a mysterious smile, and his eyes twinkled.
Stranger Series Box Set Page 50
