by Tonya Kuper
I turned the key, kicked the stand, and her fingertips slid across my obliques. Once her hands were no longer on me, she was quick to hop to the ground and pull off her helmet. I followed. Without her wrapped behind me, it instantly felt as if something was missing and the breeze seemed cooler. I grabbed the helmet from her hands, placing it on the seat.
Josie stood, one hip pushed out, arms crossed. “Okay, you have me hidden in dark trees. If you’re not a creeper, what the hell do you want?” I noticed she pulled the bigger of her bracelets off, slipped her hand through, and gripped it in her fist like brass knuckles.
She was smart and cautious. Good. She needed to be.
“I didn’t hide you. I hid us and what I need to show you.” I made each of my movements intentional. I couldn’t chance scaring her. We needed her.
Josie held up a finger, a warning, and said, “If you go anywhere near your zipper, I’m out of here. And screaming bloody murder as I go.”
I smiled and raised my hands out to my sides. “No zipper action. Swear. Until you say you want zipper action, and then…” She shot me a nasty look. “Totally kidding.”
I could smell her on my shirt. Gardenias. I didn’t know a daisy from a dandelion, but I knew the smell of gardenias. I took in one last breath and clapped my hands to bring myself back to the park. The unveiling. The girl.
Showtime—bring her up to speed. The best way to do that? Give her proof without frightening her to death. “What would you like right now, more than anything?”
She cocked her head, her face serious. “Besides a Taser gun, you mean?”
Laughter spilled out of me. Her sarcasm was thick but appreciated. She made me laugh.
Josie didn’t crack a smile. “I want to know where and when you acquired that tattoo. Who were you with?” She leaned over, trying to peek at my new ink.
I knew what she wanted to hear. But I hadn’t had any cool bonding moment with Nick Harper where we got matching tats. I couldn’t and wouldn’t lie to her. “You gave it to me this morning.”
Josie stepped closer, and confusion twisted her stunning features. “Are you on crack? I think I’d remember tattooing someone.”
Man, I didn’t want to be the one to have to do this. This was going to crush her. I could see the hope in her eyes—the possibility of a connection to her brother. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t have a tattoo before this morning. You gave me the ink when you saw me pull up in front of the school.”
Josie shoved her hands into her pockets. She snorted. “Right.”
“For real. You and me. We are called Oculi. We, Oculi, have the unique ability to make what we observe a reality. We think; give a mental Push; and, through the act of observation, we manifest our thought into reality.”
“Yes. That’s such a logical explanation. And at midnight, my ball gown will turn to rags,” she said, rolling her eyes.
Right, nobody believed it when I told them. “Let’s simplify this,” I said. “What do you want to eat?”
She stared at me. A deep crease formed between her squinted eyes. ”What?” Josie’s voice raged with frustration.
I was going to lose her if I didn’t do something drastic.
Screw it. Without giving it another thought, I stepped beside her and pointed to my bike. “Keep your eyes on my bike. Popcorn sounds good to me.” I blinked, and the movie theater treat sat on my seat. I loped to my bike and picked up the box.
“You’re kidding me. You dragged me out here to show me a childish magic trick?” Her voice lowered, cold and pointed.
“Wait. You think this is an illusion? This is real.” I plunged my fingers into the red-and-white-striped box and shoveled popcorn into my mouth. “Here.” I offered it to her.
Josie crossed her arms again. “I don’t doubt the products are real. I just think a magic trick is a little pathetic as a pickup attempt.”
She thought this was an attempt to hit on her? No, no, no. “You’d know if I were trying to hit on you. There’d be no question. And I’m not.”
Josie’s eyes bulged. “Wow. Okay.” Her voice cracked. “Can you take me back now? I’ve had the worst birthday ever.” She tipped her head back and bit her quivering lip.
Shit. She was on the verge of tears. “That’s not what I meant. I’d totally hit on you; I just don’t have time right now.”
Josie turned in an about-face, but I caught her elbow, pulling her back to me. “You call it. What do you want to eat?”
“Fine,” she huffed, jerking herself out of my grasp. “Ice cream.”
I Pushed and blinked while staring at my bike. And it appeared in the next millisecond—a brand-new tub of peanut butter fudge ice cream.
Josie yanked her arm out of my hand and lurched for the dessert. Picking it up, she examined it and my bike. She opened the container, setting the lid on the seat, and stuck her index finger into the ice cream. Her head snapped up. “It’s cold.”
“Because it’s real.”
Hesitantly, she licked her finger. “It is real. And it’s my favorite.” I knew it was her favorite, or it had been a few years ago.
Plunging the same finger back into the divot from the first try, she examined the ice cream container and then her finger from above, then from the side. This time her finger was covered when she pulled it out, and she spooned it into her mouth. Her eyes closed and she moaned around her finger. She was hot, and she didn’t even know it. I rubbed my mouth to hide the smile I couldn’t keep off my face.
Josie pulled her finger out of her mouth. “How about black flip-flops?” She looked at me expectantly, her brows raised. I nodded toward my bike where the cheap sandals already sat.
She placed the tub of ice cream down to inspect the flip-flops. “If this is real, then wouldn’t you be able to make them dis—”
I thought, blinked, and they were gone. What Josie held in her hand seemingly vanished into thin air. She whirled around. The ice cream had disappeared, too, as well as the popcorn. She twisted back to me.
“This is what I looked like this morning.” I Pushed.
Josie let out a screech so loud it would’ve woken zombies. Fear, astonishment, and confusion took her face hostage. I couldn’t imagine what was going through her mind, and I felt terrible having to break it to her this way. “It’s okay. It’s okay,” I promised, holding my hands up as if calming a startled horse.
I wanted to somehow make this better, but I knew there wasn’t anything I could do to comfort her right now. All I could do was appeal to her intellect, give her validation and evidence. I needed to find a way for her to trust me.
I ran a hand over my buzzed head and my clean-shaven jaw. “It’s still me. Look. No tattoo.” I pulled up my sleeve.
Josie’s wide eyes didn’t blink, and her mouth hung open.
I had to give her more. “Then you made me into a cross between a romance novel cover model and Jack Sparrow.” I Pushed. Long hair, scruffy. I looked like I had when I pulled my helmet off at the school earlier in the day.
A short, throaty sound escaped from her covered mouth. Slowly pulling her hands away from her lips, she said, “A young, dark-haired Thor.” Her voice was barely audible.
I stepped closer to her, her eyes still focused on my face. I Pushed again—the hair I showed up with tonight, with a slight scruff over my jawline. This was how I’d stay for as long as she knew me.
Josie’s fingers grasped my forearm while her other hand shoved up my sleeve, revealing her brother’s tattoo. Her eyes dragged over my arm to my face with extreme caution.
I cleared my throat so I wouldn’t startle her any more than I already had, especially since she was so close. “You okay?”
The moonlight cast a blue, ethereal glow on her face. “My brother? You didn’t get the tattoo with him?” she croaked.
“I’m sorry.” I didn’t. In time I could tell her what I knew of Nick, but not now…and that killed me.
Her eyes traveled up and down my body, over to my bike, and back
to my face. She was trying to grasp what she’d seen, to understand. She seemed to be thinking, rationally processing what she couldn’t wrap her mind around. Her index finger, lying at her side, pointed to me then to my bike. Yeah, she was trying to work this out logically in her brain. A crease formed between her brows, and her eyes narrowed. “You made all that other stuff appear. Can you make him…”
No. Don’t ask. Don’t go there. You will just be disappointed.
She shook her head. Of course she wouldn’t ask. She didn’t believe in this kind of stuff. It went against her very nature.
She needed to hear it, though. “We can’t Push anything having a soul. Or once having a soul,” I said slowly. “That’s not how Pushing works.” I wished we could. There were many people I’d Push alive if I could. Nick. My mom. Countless friends and mentors.
Her glassy eyes were almost more than I could handle. “I, I…” she whispered. “I don’t understand what’s going on.”
I was too familiar with the longing in her voice. I’d been there. It was a fast downward spiral to a dangerous place. My muscles stiffened thinking about where I’d been two years ago, how I’d shut everyone out, how it had been easier to turn off my emotions than deal with reality. There was a time when I thought there would be more peace in death than wallowing in my grief and misery. I wouldn’t let her even start down that path.
I leaned down, making sure she’d hear me. “Is this a bad time to hit on you, then?”
Her lips broke into a half smile.
Thank God. My shoulders relaxed away from my ears.
“You have some explaining to do. We’re going to need more than”—she pulled her phone from her jeans—“ten minutes.”
“Explaining?” I laughed. “You have no idea.”
Josie stepped toward the bike, and a shadow darted out of the tree line. The figure held something shiny pointed at Josie. A gun.
I didn’t think, I just reacted. I’d been Pushing a shield around Josie and myself, the energy leaving my body in a tangible pulse, since we got on my bike. Not taking any chances, I Pushed a bulletproof vest and a ten-by-ten brick wall blocking her from the assailant’s view.
I sprinted toward Josie, simultaneously Retracting the gun from his hand and Pushing a straightjacket around the stranger, likely a Consortium goon. It didn’t evaporate in the next second, so he wasn’t an Anomaly, just a Pusher. That meant I had the upper hand.
My gaze flashed back to Josie. She now pointed a classic Glock at the brick wall. I hadn’t Pushed it, which meant she had. The fight-or-flight chemical reaction in her body had kicked in, and standing firm in self-defense was her first instinct.
Seriously? Right on.
The ski-masked stranger wriggled, and the white jacket fell to the ground, revealing that he had Bowie knives in each hand. I didn’t have time for this.
I pulled my hand back by my ear. He didn’t see me Push my favorite blade into my hand. I had the advantage of accuracy and surprise. I flung the blade into his heart. He collapsed.
“Josie,” I whispered. “Don’t move.”
Without pausing, I Pushed my gun into my hand. I flash Retracted all the trees in my line of sight. The trees disappeared and reappeared in a matter of seconds. Clear. Josie let out a strangled gasp, cutting through the silence. I pivoted and did the same to the opposite side of the park. Retract and Push. Clear. The action cost me. Pain cleaved my skull and dropped me to my knees. I could taste the blood in my mouth, feel it dripping out of my nose. I wiped it away before Josie could see.
I stashed the gun in my waistband. The pain had subsided, although I knew that action came with a hefty price tag. I jogged over to Josie, who was now peeking out from behind the brick wall.
Catching my breath, I crouched down in front of her. I slowly moved my hand into her line of sight so she could see my movements and empty hands. She had to trust me. Her chest heaved, and her face was drawn in disbelief. Cautiously, I reached for her arm, but she jerked away.
I didn’t blame her for questioning my intentions or me after what she’d just witnessed. “I’m here to protect you, but we need to get you out of here.”
Her bottom lip shook as she scrambled to her feet.
“Josie, there are very bad people nearby who want to hurt you, just because of what you are.”
“N-no.”
“You’ve felt it, Josie.” I kept using her name, keeping my voice low and steady. She covered her ears and shook her head. “You felt it with the headaches, that sick feeling you get right before one of your thoughts becomes reality.”
“The gun…”
“Yes, the gun. You Pushed it.” And my hair and tattoo.
“None of this is possible,” she said in a soft voice.
I held out my hand. “We have to go.”
She stepped around me, avoiding my outstretched hand. I Retracted the brick wall. She crept over to the lifeless body, bent down, and touched two fingers to the person’s neck.
“He’s dead!”
Uh, yep. A nine-inch dagger to the heart tended to have that effect.
It started with a gasp. Then she slapped her hands over her mouth. She didn’t say anything for several seconds, and then she just lost it. Tears overflowed from her eyes, streaming down her face. In a way, I wished she’d scream and wail. But she said nothing. And those soul-wrenching, silent sobs that she fought so hard to contain, they tore at me—what was left of me. Ripping the scabs off wounds that had never fully healed.
I wanted to reach out, to try to reassure her. I wasn’t as cold an operative as I pretended to be. But I had to get her out of there—our safety came first. I Retracted all evidence that anything had happened: the jacket, the knives, everything apart from the body. I couldn’t simply Retract a body. Objects, yes, but never the living. Or once living, as it were.
Josie’s hand fell from her mouth, but tears still streamed down her cheeks. “We need to call the police.” Her voice was raspy.
“Can’t.” It pained me to say it. We were talking about a dead human being, but it wasn’t that easy. “The Consortium is everywhere, including branches of the government and law enforcement. We’d be giving you away. That’s why he had to die—so he couldn’t confirm finding you.”
Her gaze flickered between the dead man and me. I Retracted the black ski mask. Caucasian, five feet ten, maybe closer to six feet tall. Average build, greenish-hazel eyes, dull features, short brown hair. Nondescript. The kind of twenty-something guy you’d pass in the mall or on the street and not give a second glance. There was nothing about him that would indicate he was a dangerous Oculi. A perfect Consortium goon.
I patted down his front pockets, coming up empty, but rolling his body to the side, I found a wallet in his back pocket that held a Science Industries ID card. Science Industries, called SI by most Oculi, was the public facade used by Schrödinger’s Consortium.
Technically, I should’ve called this in, alerting the Hub to a threat in the immediate area. I needed to let them know our mission was compromised—but just as the thought formed, I shut it down.
The Hub would order me to retreat and return to base. They’d send in a different team to monitor the area. They’d post surveillance on Josie, use her as bait to draw out more Consortium members. They’d wait to see if she was innocent or in league with the same people who had just tried to attack her.
Hell no.
“We need to leave, Josie. Now.”
She didn’t move. “Who is he? What did he want? Was he after you or me?”
I had to give her enough information so she’d understand the urgency of the situation, but not so much that it would freak her out more than she already was. “He was a member of Schrödinger’s Consortium. They’re comprised of people who have abilities like ours. They were trying to keep tabs on people like you and me, to police us. They think you may be a little different, though.”
“Different how?”
How could I say they wanted her dea
d without saying it outright? “They think you’re more dangerous.”
She inched toward me. “They want to kill me.” It wasn’t a question. She stated it as a fact—and she was right. I nodded, and she bit her bottom lip, tears welling in her eyes again.
“I’m sorry.” I needed to get her out of here. Either the mission was compromised, or there was a leak. Neither scenario was good. “Josie, we need to move.”
Stepping between the dead body and the tree line, I Pushed a hole, six feet deep, directly behind the first tree. A grave was protocol for dispensing of dead Consortium, leaving no evidence of engagement, which in turn meant no questions from Plancks, humans without our abilities.
Josie stepped beside me, peering into the hole. A cherry-lacquered coffin appeared. What the? I swallowed my initial comment. Of course she could observe a coffin into existence; she knew what a coffin looked like from when Nick died.
My stomach rolled, and I stared at her in awe for a moment. No words were exchanged between us, but I understood what she wanted. Did I have time for niceties for an asshole who had attempted to kill us? Nuh-uh. That would be no. But if settling this scumbag in a box rather than the ground would help Josie sleep better at night, well, fine. I could spare a minute.
I jumped into the grave and wrenched the coffin lid open. Jeez, she’d gone all-out with cushioned pillows and plush linings. I reached up and dragged the man down. There was something about death that added extra weight to a body. Although the chest wound didn’t bleed much, the scent of blood—sharp and oddly metallic—made me hold my breath. I situated the body into the cream-colored satin that lined the coffin, lowered the lid, and stood.
I stepped on the lower part of the coffin to vault out of the hole. Ignoring the pressure building in my skull, I Pushed dirt to fill the grave, followed by grass and plants so the ground appeared like the rest of the lightly wooded area.
Josie nodded soundlessly, like she was giving some kind of prayer or acknowledgment, and began walking back to the bike.
I stepped in front of her and whispered, “Stop. I go first.” I grabbed my gun in one hand and, holding up the other to Josie, indicated she needed to wait. My infrared glasses appeared on my face and I did a quick 360. Clear.
