Illicit Connections (Illicit Minds Book 2)

by Rebecca Royce

  “Dark things, Daddy. Dark things.”

  He kneeled down. Seven turned away from the scene. It was only going to get worse for Daphne, and Seven didn’t want to look at Ben right at that second. He’d see it written all over her face. There was nothing to be done about it. The least she could do was let Ben comfort his daughter and not let him know that his reassurances would mean nothing.

  Seven had seen this occurrence many times. Children all started out the same. No one showed Conditioned symptoms at birth. After that, it was anyone’s guess when the deviant abilities would begin. She’d been two years old. Daphne’s precognition abilities would have seemed pretty innocuous, so meaningless in the beginning that Seven could believe that until she had personally stood in his living room and forced him to face it, Ben had managed to hide the truth even from himself.

  He’d probably forced denial down his throat on a daily basis.

  Seven gripped the wheel so tightly her fingers turned white from the strain. She took a deep breath and tried not to obsess.

  The next step, after the children’s abilities began, was what Madame called the Illumination Phase. Seven could remember her own very well. As a child, it had been virtually impossible for her not to shift to the dark light whenever an energy moved in or out of the room. She couldn’t stop it. In and out—she’d been terrified. It had felt as if she was out of control of her own body.

  But control came eventually. Even the most out-of-it Conditioned learned not to enact their not-from-God abilities unless they wanted to. Daphne was lucky. She had no physical manifestations of her Condition. If Ben could hide her, could keep her from being seen while she went through the Illumination, she would grow up, learn to control it and manage to hide herself in society.

  Daphne was Madame’s least favorite type of Conditioned.

  She might actually not get caught. Unless she got too close to the Fury. They could smell a Condition even if there was no physical demonstration. They would blood-test her, and then it would all be over.

  Ben basically needed to go into hiding now. She turned around to look at Ben.

  “Sweetheart.”

  He didn’t hear her. The wind had picked up. Seven shivered. Was this abrupt weather change a usual occurrence out on the lake?

  “Honey, I’m sure you just imagined it.”

  He shouted to be heard by Daphne. Didn’t he notice how loud it had suddenly gotten? She’d have to speak to him when they could talk. It wouldn’t do to tell Daphne that she didn’t know what she knew. Nothing would stop it. Denial would only make her feel as if she were crazy.

  The boat shook beneath her hands. She could hardly hold it.

  “Ben.”

  He looked up. “Just a second. I’m trying to make Daphne feel better. She keeps thinking she sees blackness on the wind.”

  That sounded daunting. “Ben, I can’t hold the boat. Is it normal to have the wind blowing this hard?”

  He stood up. “Come to think of it, no. Daphne, we’ll talk about this later. Take your sister and go below.”

  Ella spoke up. “Daddy…”

  “Ella, go.”

  His daughters nodded before turning to run below deck. In two swift strides, he was by her side. His presence made her feel calmer, but not by much. Something had gone amiss with the weather and that couldn’t be good news.

  “This was not supposed to happen.” Ben took the wheel from her. She’d never been so relieved to let go of something in her life. “Go below with the girls.”

  “I take it this isn’t normal?”

  He shook his head. “We had no forecast of this. None. It was supposed to be beautiful all day. Look up there.” Seven followed his gaze as dread traveled through her stomach. The clouds above them seemed very, very black.

  “Are we going to be okay? Can you handle this?”

  “I can. Just go below.”

  Thunder cracked above them. That couldn’t be good. Seven had never been confronted with weather. That was one thing about living in the Institution. You were always inside if it rained. No one wanted to clean up any mud.

  She moved, stumbling forward as the boat rocked sharply to the right.

  “Seven!” Ben shouted.

  She looked up to grin at him. “I’m okay. Just can’t walk, apparently.”

  “No, the boat. It’s rocking violently. Can you make it?”

  “Sure.” She pushed up. The rain pounded hard on her back. She officially hated this weather.

  She’d barely stood up when she felt herself wrenched into the air. Ben’s shout behind her was the last thing she heard as she was forcibly pulled upward. She yelled, terror overtaking her. Had she been sucked up in some kind of weird weather-thing? What was happening?

  She swirled into the air. It felt as though someone held her in their hand. She cried, certain that at any second she’d fall back down into the water. The higher she got, the less likely it was that she would survive her fall.

  Still she rose. Realization dawned on her as panic fled. This was weird. She might not know everything, but she knew this wasn’t normal. People didn’t get sucked upward off a boat to keep going farther and farther skyward. Unless they were, in fact, being picked up and moved.

  There was a weather Conditioned at Crescent. He didn’t communicate much with anyone else. Mostly he kept to himself, but Madame loved him. Rumors abounded that Madame made a lot of money under the table selling his powers to high bidders. If you were rich enough, you didn’t have to endure rain on your daughter’s wedding day. You could pay to make sure it didn’t happen.

  What was his number? Seven bit down on her lip as the wind whipped her hair against her face. Five-Thirty-Two. That was right. Five-Thirty-Two, it appeared, had another talent beyond weather control. He could move things, and this time it was Seven he had plucked up from the boat.

  The question was, why? Why did Madame want her back so badly that she’d risked exposure by moving her from a boat where someone could see?

  Ben. Oh god, Ben. He’d seen it. He was at risk.

  She struggled against the wind, knowing it was futile. Even if she got away, she’d only plummet back down to the water or—who knew—maybe by now the land.

  If she made it back to Crescent, she’d be dead upon arrival. But why? The sad truth was that she would find out the answer probably moments before she perished.

  What kind of sick joke did fate feel the need to play on her? Introduce her to Ben only to rip him away or have him hurt? Show her love so she could know just what she’d missed out on right before her death?

  No. None of it was fair. Seven screamed at the top of her lungs. This was too much. It was too unfair. Tears sprang from her eyes as her hands fisted at her sides. Her head thrashed from side to side. So many conflicting emotions threatened to overwhelm her.

  That was when she felt it. Energy. It had formed around her. How was it possible, and where had it come from? Her gift pushed at her mind, wanting to shift phases so she could see what only she could.

  What the hell? She might as well give in to it. Maybe it would be more bright-orange light sent to explode like a firecracker around her. Then she’d never even get any answers. She’d just fade away to nothing.

  At least she might be able to go out with a fight.

  She let the energy pull at her. With no worry about anyone looking, she let her eyes change fast. No one would be screaming in horror. Ben hadn’t minded her devil-black eyes. Pushing all thoughts of him from her mind, she let herself enter the dark space.

  Quickly, she looked around. There was no light. Nothing.

  How was that possible?

  “Would you like out of this situation?”

  Seven gasped. “Who said that?”

  “You can’t see me? Damn it. I was pretty sure I’d figured all this out.”

  “No, I can’t see anything.” Seven shook her head. Was she losing her mind?

  Had she been pushed into some kind of delirium?


  A shadow formed in front of her. It looked like a man, but it had no form—it was only shadow. “Now? Can you see me now?”

  Seven’s hands flew to her neck. “Are you the Devil?”

  “What? No. Sheesh. I’m just having a little trouble projecting my full form. Yeah, she just asked me if I was the Devil.”

  Okay, now I’m really confused. “Who are you and who are you speaking with?”

  “I’m sorry, I should have said. My name is Spencer, and my brother Roman contacted me about getting you out of the trouble you’re currently in.”

  Seven blinked a few times to try to clear her head. “Roman the Fury?”

  “That’s the one. I’m talking to the group of people I’m with. We’re all working together to make this little interaction between us possible.”

  “Okay.” Seven scratched her head. “It felt like there was energy.”

  “There was—or is, rather. Anyway, it’s complicated. Once you’re with us—if you choose to come—we can teach you what it is that you really do.”

  “What I really do?”

  “That’s right. You have only a mediocre understanding of it. No Conditioned in captivity really understands what they are capable of. But I can’t take you from where you are without your permission. It’s part of the rules we’ve set up for ourselves to keep our location a secret. It keeps all of us safe.”

  “I would love to be taken from here. If you don’t, they’re going to kill me.”

  Spencer, the black shadow, nodded. “I know. Madame wants you dead very badly. We’re not sure why, but we’re going to find out.”

  “Could you bring Ben and the girls, too? They’re going to be in terrible trouble.” And thinking about it made her feel ill.

  “We can’t.”

  “Then I can’t come.” She wouldn’t leave Ben. There had to be a way to get herself freed and get back to Ben.

  “You’ll die if you don’t, Seven. You’ll never make it back to him, and let’s face it, he’s safer without you.”

  “Why can’t he come?”

  Spencer sighed. “He’s too connected to the outside. If we take him while he’s still so wrapped up in the world there, his disappearance will be noted. People will ask questions we can’t handle. Maybe there will come a time when we can take him. I’m not sure. But we can do our best to make sure he’s safe. Come with us, Seven. The rest of this, we can work it out.”

  Seven realized she really didn’t have a choice. If she stayed, she was dead, and then there would never be any chance to get back to Ben. If she went, she would find a way. He’d be terribly worried. She would have to find a way to contact him, to make sure he knew she was alive.

  For the first time in her life, she didn’t believe her destiny had to end at the hands of one of Madame’s executioners. Yes, she would go. She would go and find a way to make a life for her, Ben, and his girls.

  Wherever she went, it had to be better than here. “Take me with you.”

  Eleven

  Five years later

  He was going to have to file more paperwork. Ben threw his pen down on his desk. There was always more goddamn paperwork. File one injunction, hit another wall.

  “Got a minute?”

  Ben jumped. He hadn’t even heard Gene come in. But that was standard these days. His head was always somewhere else.

  “Of course.” He cleared his throat as he gestured around the room. “You can sit if you can find a place.”

  “I don’t dare. The last time I tried, I moved something pivotal, remember?”

  Gene grinned at him as he walked slowly toward the desk. His brother wanted something. Too bad Ben had nothing left to give to anyone.

  He’d failed. That was all there was to it.

  “What do you need, Gene?”

  His brother sighed. “This is about Daphne.”

  Now that would get his attention. “Has she been discovered?”

  “No, of course not. If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times, Daphne is safe and protected. As long as we keep doing what we’ve been doing the last two years, nothing bad is going to happen to that baby.”

  He knew that, of course. Taking Gene into his confidence after the nightmare of the boat trip had been a risk, but one that had proven to be a blessing. Gene loved those girls, and if anyone had the ability to break the law without worrying about the consequences, it was his big brother.

  “So what’s going on?” Ben looked at the clock. “She should be with the tutor now.”

  “She is.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Then what?”

  “Ella tells me that Daphne is dreaming about the girl again.”

  Ben wanted to throw something across the room. Instead, he sat back in his chair and counted to ten. That didn’t thaw his temper. It didn’t help that Gene stood there silently, as if he was completely patient to do nothing but wait.

  “We all think about her, Gene. She was ripped from my boat in the middle of the day by a strange—I don’t know—thing, and we never saw her again.”

  His brother crossed his arms across his chest. “One of these days, you’ll have to come across a better word for what took her than thing.”

  “Yes, well, according to the media, I’m probably crazy. Now, back to Daphne. She’s going to dream about Seven for the rest of her life.” They all were. Ben saw her regularly in his sleep. It was one of the reasons he spent so little time in the nightly activity. “Unless my daughter has suddenly picked up another ability to speak with the dead, then she’s just dreaming about Seven like any person does when they’ve been through a trauma.”

  “The trauma was five years ago. You don’t think it might be a good idea to speak to your very talented daughter and see if maybe she might have something useful to say to you?”

  He shook his head right before he pounded the desk. “No. I think the best thing Daphne can do is to never talk about any of this. Ever. For the rest of her life, she is going to have to pretend she sees nothing. She might as well start getting used to it now.” As he jumped up, his chair fell backward. “So if that’s all…”

  “It’s not.” Gene shook his head, a small grin forming on his face. “Talking about that Conditioned woman is the only thing that gets a reaction out of you, ever. Other than that, you’ve become so resigned.”

  “Yeah, well, life is shit. What can I say?”

  Outside his daughters, there wasn’t anything he looked forward to. The need to punish those who had taken Seven fueled him, but he was wise enough to know that when he met his goals—and despite his failure, he knew he would never stop until he did—he would find a cold reward of nothing waiting for him.

  “She died. You didn’t.”

  Ben stalked forward, getting in Gene’s face. “I’m aware of that.”

  “You didn’t get this worked up over Dana.”

  “I can’t do anything about incurable cancer except give money to research that may or may not actually be getting done. I can stop bullies who imprison, abuse, and eventually kill a portion of our population for no good reason other than that they can, and I might remind you that if they knew about her, Daphne would—”

  Gene held up his hand. “I know. I don’t know why I’m baiting you.” His brother scratched his head. “That’s not true. I do know.”

  No one could get him more upset than Gene, and no one could defuse him faster. Ben suspected he sometimes did it just to prove he still could. Their relationship had changed over the last five years. Truth was, Ben would never have imagined Gene could be so good to all of them. So helpful. So familial. But he’d stepped up when Ben had needed him. He’d taken care of the girls when Ben had managed to look like a lunatic in the press. Gene had protected all of them.

  “If you know, then why don’t you just tell me what has gotten you all pissed off instead of making me nuts?”

  “You got another file.”

  Ben’s heart sped up. “Another file? Where is it?”

/>   Gene sighed. “I left it on the desk in the reception area.”

  Turning on his heel, Ben ran the small distance between his office and the desk that would belong to his secretary if he actually had one. “Why would you leave such an important thing out where anyone could get it?”

  “Who would get it, Benedicte?” His brother followed him.

  “Anyone could.” He reached the desk and snatched up the manila folder.

  As had happened every time, Ben turned over a large manila envelope with a typed address. It held no return mailing information, and like always, it arrived on the same date as it had the previous month and every month before that. It stated Ben’s name with the words “Care of Eugene Lavelle” below and then the address of Gene’s office. Ben’s office was listed publicly, but each time the envelope came through Gene.

  In the beginning, Ben had been convinced that Gene actually knew the person who sent them, but he no longer was. Gene probably disliked the secrecy even more than he did.

  He ripped open the seal. It was funny, but receiving the letter that came with the money and information every month had become one of his favorite things. He’d never met the woman—if she was a woman and not a man using a fake woman’s name—but the way she wrote to him always lifted his spirits.

  “It’s just too weird. If I can’t find out who this person is, then no one can. And everyone can be found. I don’t trust it.” Gene sniffed.

  “It doesn’t matter.” What Ben really wanted was to have Gene leave, or at least go into the other room so he could read his letter alone. “Every small advancement I’ve made has come from information from this woman. Whoever she is, she’s helping. End of story.”

  Gene nodded. “I knew you’d say that. Go on. Read your damn letter. I’ll wait for you in your office. I’ll be sitting in your chair.” Ben waited for Gene to leave the room. It was stupid; it wasn’t as if Gene was going to read over his shoulder. Still, it felt better to read her notes alone.

  Dear Ben.

  He smiled. The letters used to come addressed to Mr. Lavelle, but about a year ago she had started calling him Ben. He wasn’t sure why it had changed, he was just glad it had. She felt like a friend to him, even if he’d never gotten to write back to her. Somehow, it was as if they communicated.