He turned and moved toward the closed bathroom door. Light seeped out around it with a glow like a scene out of a science fiction movie. Again, he didn't knock, but turned the handle. Unlike last time, the door didn't open. He listened for a few seconds then rapped lightly.
"What?” Lexi's voice was soft and shaky.
"Are you okay?"
"Yes."
Dustin ground his teeth. The one-word answers were getting them nowhere. “I need you to open the door."
"No."
He ran a hand down his face. It was too early in the morning for this kind of game. “Lexi, I need to see that you are okay and alone in there. If you don't open this door in two seconds, then I will."
"Okay, okay.” Her exasperated voice drifted to him.
He heard her moving around and the sound of water running. Then, the door opened. He strode into the bathroom, did a quick search, and again came up empty-handed. When he turned to her, she was seated on the edge of the tub, elbows on knees and her head in her hands. He didn't need to see her face to know she'd been crying. He was equally certain she didn't want to talk about it.
He reached out to place a comforting hand on her shoulder, but then stepped back. “I'm going to go make coffee. Would you like some?"
She raised her head and gaped at him, as though she wasn't accustomed to people being nice to her. “Coffee would be nice. Thank you."
"It'll be ready in ten minutes.” Backing out of the room, he turned and sprinted downstairs to the kitchen.
Anger coursed through his veins, so hot and molten his hands shook as he prepared the java-brewer. He had an almost uncontrollable urge to find the person who'd made her cry and pound the crap out of them. Stepping back, he watched the dark liquid flow into the clear carafe and wondered what the hell had gotten into him.
The sound of Lexi's bare feet entering the room pulled him from his thoughts. He turned and spotted her standing in the doorway. She looked as thought she might bolt back upstairs and barricade herself into her room at any moment.
He motioned for her to sit at the table. “How do you take your coffee?"
"Black."
He poured the coffee and then watched as she surveyed the sunset gold-colored room. The exterior of the cabinets were original to the house, while inside was hidden the latest in modern kitchen storage. It'd taken him hours of scraping, sanding, and refinishing to make them beautiful again. The space was big enough for two people to work comfortably without stepping on each other.
Opposite the kitchen was a small dining area with a large picture window looking out into the back yard. His mother called the room quaint. He wondered what Lexi thought of it.
Carrying the mugs to the table, he took the chair opposite her and pushed a cup across the space to her. He watched as she sipped the hot liquid. “Looks like you slept as badly as I did."
Large green eyes met his. “Actually, I slept better last night than I have in years."
"You're joking.” He couldn't keep the surprise out of his voice.
She pushed a strand of dark red hair behind an ear. “No, I haven't slept an entire night in years."
"Boy, we have totally different views on the definition of a good night's sleep."
"I'm sure we have different opinions on lots of other things."
"I'm sure we do.” He studied her face, and even though he didn't know her well, he was sure she was coming to some important decision.
"You know, there are many reasons for changing one's identity.” She looked him square in the eyes as she spoke.
"True. Fraud, identity theft, and running from the law are all reasons for changing your identity."
"Protection is another."
He arched an eyebrow at her. “True, but you're not in the witness program."
"No, I'm not, and if I was, I'd be dead by now.” Her words dripped with scorn.
"You have very little faith in the government, sweetheart."
She took a deep breath. “I have zero faith in the government and even less in people."
He put his hand over his heart. “Direct hit, I'm going down for the count."
Lexi's eyes lit up. She laughed out loud, and her face transformed into that of an angel. He caught the fact he was staring at her only moments before she composed herself.
He hated to break the spell that seemed to hang over them this morning, but knew he didn't have a choice. “Where is this conversation headed?"
The lingering laughter fled from her eyes, replaced by the haunted look that seemed to follow her. “I need you to understand how big a step this is for me. I've never told anyone my story."
He retrieved the coffee carafe and refilled their cups before taking his place back at the table. She wasn't looking at him any longer. Instead, she stared off into space.
Someone on her past had put fear into her. He could see it in her body language. At times, he could almost smell it. He just prayed one day he got to repay that person. “Someone screwed you over good, didn't they?"
She took a sip of coffee and nodded. “Yeah, they did. When you were listing the reasons for changing ones name, you left off the most basic."
"I did? What would that be?"
She looked back to him with troubled eyes. “To stay alive."
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Six
Lexi clutched the coffee cup in her hand like a lifeline. She watched as Dustin studied her face and tried to decide whether she was yanking his chain or not. She'd spent a good part of the night coming to this decision. Of course, there wasn't a lot of choice to it. Escaping town without notice was obviously out the window, and going back to live with Reverend Fairchild and his group of psycho followers was not going to happen in this lifetime.
"I'm guessing you're finally ready to talk?"
He was all business now. She could see it in his posture and hear it in his authoritative tone. She was putting a lot of faith in a man she'd only just met, but for the first time in fifteen years, she felt she'd found someone she could trust.
"Yes, but if you want your team to hear it, I'd rather tell it one time. If you don't mind?"
"Fine by me. Let's get cleaned up then we'll flash to the office."
"Okay. And you'll need to bring the data-disk I gave you yesterday."
* * * *
An hour later, Lexi looked around at the faces gathered in the small conference room and wondered if she'd lost her sanity.
"We're going to record this conversation, Ms. Corbitt. It'll allow us to review your story without having to ask you the same question over and over,” Grady O'Brien said as he turned on the voice recorder. “Any time you're ready, you can start."
She turned to Dustin, who sat to her right, and knew panic showed in her eyes. He looked back at her with such confidence that, for the first time in years, she thought maybe—just maybe—an end to this nightmare was close. She gave him a shaky smile before turning back to the group.
"My father is an anti-power extremist. My mother didn't have any powers, but she failed to tell my father there were a few MetalShapers in her family line. He was horrified and ashamed of me when I came into my powers at the age of thirteen. Two weeks later, my mother committed suicide."
"You don't think it was suicide, though?” Miranda O'Brien asked from her spot beside her husband.
"I don't know. My father was beyond reason. My mother tried to save the family but she was never a strong person. Their marriage was over, and even at thirteen, I understood what was happening. I do know my father wouldn't have stopped my mother from killing herself."
She could feel Dustin studying her and didn't dare look at him for fear of breaking into tears. Instead, she plunged ahead. “Over the next three years, my father sent me to a variety of private boarding schools, hoping I would learn to control my powers and my attitude. Well, I learned to manage my powers quite well, but never my mindset. To say I was a handful is putting it mildly. When I was sixteen, I decided to
rearrange the large heavy metal statues that decorated the school grounds. The headmaster didn't like finding them in his office the next morning. By noon, I was once again shipped home."
She stopped to catch her breath before telling the truly difficult part of the story. Her hands started to shake where they rested on the table. Hoping no one else noticed, she started to put her hands in her lap, only to have Dustin take her right hand in his and give it a reassuring squeeze.
"You're freezing."
She turned to him and saw the concern in his eyes. “It's only nerves. I'll be okay."
He gave her a small smile. “I never doubted that. Why don't you finish?"
He didn't release her hand when she thought he would, and she didn't make any move to let go of his. She took a deep breath and continued. “Father sent me the next day to Reverend Fairchild's Fundamentalist School of the Saved. What a joke. It wasn't a school. It was a prison where the primary goal was to strip us of our un-Godly powers."
Everyone in the room stared at her, their features etched with unspoken repulsion. She could see the questions they wanted to ask written on their faces, but at the same time, they didn't want to hear the answers.
Alora finally broached the topic. “You can't take away someone's powers."
"No, you can't. But you can torture a young child long and hard enough to convince them to never use their powers again. Then, while you are inflicting unbelievable pain on the child, you brainwash them into believing they are being saved. Once saved, the pain will stop, and they will enjoy the same heavenly afterlife as everyone else who has no powers. Unlike those of us with powers, who are considered unsaved and going straight to Hell."
"You saw this?” Grady asked.
"I lived at the school for four weeks before I managed to escape. We were all forced to watch the punishment of others. For many of the younger kids, all it took was watching what could happen to them to convince them to give up the use of their powers. The older children weren't so easy to sway. They were the ones who usually received punishment. Over the course of a week, one girl, a WaterDancer, was held underwater each day until she drowned. They would then pull her out and resuscitate her. It took seven days before she converted to their way of thinking."
The gasps were audible, but Lexi kept going. Afraid if she stopped she wouldn't start again, she closed her eyes and plunged ahead.
"There was a fifteen year old boy, a FireStarter, who they tied down to a table. For five days straight, they placed a red hot sheet of metal to the bottom of his feet. I can still hear his screams and smell his burning flesh."
"Did he convert?” Miranda's voice was a barely a whisper, but it carried through the quiet room.
"No. He died."
The sound of a toppling chair drew Dustin's attention to the far end of the table. Alora ran for the conference room door, her face as white as a ghost's. Dominik Hodge followed her. Dustin would have stopped to ponder that if he weren't so worried about the woman next to him. Her skin was clammy and pale, her teeth chattered, and her breathing was shallow.
Dustin wanted nothing more than to flash them both back to his place, put her in a tub of hot water to warm her up, and then tuck her safely in bed. She'd been through enough, but the questions had to be asked, either now or later. “Are you sure he died?"
She turned to him, and for the first time, a tear escaped and ran down her cheek. “Very sure. Rick Nelson, Reverend Fairchild's right hand man, took four of the older students out into the woods. The four of us dug the boy's grave and put him in it while Nelson watched."
He felt her start to pull her hand away but he refused to let go. “They made you bury the boy?"
"Yes, and the memories still haunt me. The data-disk I gave you yesterday details everything I've told you. It lists the names of people who were there when I was, and what has happened to them since."
"Good, we'll review the data. It should help a lot. Why didn't you take this to the local officials?” Dustin couldn't imagine not reporting such abuse.
"Fairchild has people everywhere, in all branches of government at both the local and national levels. The information wouldn't have made it very far, and I wouldn't have lived very long. I'm hoping I made the right decision by telling you."
He could tell she was worried about her choice. “You've come to the right place, Lexi. What happened with you? Did the brainwashing not work? Is that why you think Reverend Fairchild is the one after you?"
Lexi took a shaky breath and slowly released it. “I'm his one failure. He didn't manage to convert me, and I snuck out in the middle of the night. Alive. Plus, I know where the bodies are buried."
Dustin rubbed his eyes. “This is hard to digest. We're going to need some time to sort it all out."
Lexi jerked her hand out of his as she pushed back her chair and stood. Dustin did the same and wondered where she thought she was going because he wasn't about to let her out of his sight.
"This is why I've never gone to anyone with what I know. Why should anyone take my word over the honorable Reverend Fairchild's? After all, he's the pillar of morality, and I'm just a clothes designer who's often criticized for her over-the-top ideas."
"Lexi, we never said we didn't believe you. We are going to check it out, but you have to give us time."
"Time is the one thing I don't have."
She turned away, and that one move sent his temper right off the chart. He reached out and wrapped his fingers around her upper arm. He turned her around to face him because he wasn't finished with this conversation. Before he could find the right words, the door between the office and reception areas exploded with enough force to send people flying through the air.
People screamed as smoke and debris engulfed the room. Diving for cover under the conference table, he pulled Lexi down with him and rolled his body on top of hers. There was no time to create a protective shield using his powers, and even if there were, he might make matters worse for those on the other side of it. He pulled his PCD from his pocket and entered the direct line number for their headquarters. After verifying his authorization code, he declared a breach to their office security and requested immediate assistance on all levels.
No more than ten seconds after the initial explosion, the room filled with an unnatural silence. Then, the cries for help started. The woman under him hadn't made a sound or moved since he'd landed on top of her. “Are you okay?"
"I'm fine.” She pushed at his chest.
He rolled off her. “Grady?"
"Miranda and I are good."
Everyone in the room escaped the blast with only minor cuts and scrapes. They all made it out from under the table about the same time and stood. The glass on the upper half of the conference room walls was missing, and beyond that, their office area was virtually destroyed.
"Alora!” Grady yelled his sister's name.
Dustin turned to his friend, “Go find her and Hodge. I'll coordinate medical and rescue."
Grady and Miranda ran out the conference room door and into the confusion. Dustin took Lexi's hand in his and started barking orders to those closest to him. As soon as the rescue effort was underway, he turned to the woman next to him. Anger, fear, and betrayal flowed through his veins. All of this tied to her. He simply didn't know how. His emotions must have been etched across his face, because she flinched when she looked at him and tried to step back.
Wrapping a hand around her upper arm, he pulled her to him. Looking down, he could see fear dancing through her eyes. Good, he thought, because at the moment he was feeling damn dangerous.
"You have two choices. Stick to me like wallpaper to a wall, or I'll flash you straight to our central headquarters and have them put you in solitary until you expire from loneliness. Which is it?"
She didn't blink. “Where do we start?"
* * * *
Lexi picked up the tray of sandwiches, finger foods, and drinks she'd fixed and carried it into the living room. Dustin still sat in the
same chair, staring off into space like he'd been doing for the last hour. It was dark now, and neither of them had eaten since breakfast.
She placed the tray on the table between the two lounge chairs and picked up half a sandwich. Taking a bite, she chewed. It tasted and felt like eating sawdust. “Try some, it's really good."
"Not hungry.” Dustin growled the words.
"I know you aren't, but you need to eat. We both do.” She placed half a sandwich on a plate and held it out to him. “Come on, give it a try."
He didn't even turn to look at her as she held the plate out to him. Her heart ached for him. “I'm so..."
He moved so fast, it startled her, and the plate slipped from her fingers. Before she even heard the saucer hit the floor and shatter, he was standing over her. Placing one hand on each arm of the chair, he leaned down, pinning her in place. Rage circled in the air around him. She wondered if he even realized he was emitting small power surges.
"I don't want to hear your words of sympathy, Lexi. I lost four people today. On top of that, I had to tell one mother, a fiancé, two spouses, and a seven year old boy that a loved one wouldn't ever be coming home."
Fury swirled through his dark brown eyes. Maybe she should stay someplace else tonight. Then his gaze dipped to her lips, and when he looked back at her, the anger was gone. He leaned closer, and his warm breath tickled her face. He didn't say a thing as he bowed his head and touched his lips to hers.
She knew she should turn away even as a moan escaped her parted lips. He thrust his tongue into her mouth, and her body came alive at his blatant invitation. She wanted this man on a level that went beyond anything she'd ever felt before.
But not like this.
Turning her head, she broke the kiss.
Dustin stepped back and ran a hand over his face. “I'm sorry, that shouldn't have happened."
She prayed he was too tired or too distracted to realize the effect he had on her. “It's okay. What I was going to say, before we got off course, was how glad I was to hear Alora and Dominik were found safe."
Windhandler Page 4
