“No, there isn’t. I think we made a mistake. What is any of this if we can’t be happy?”
Her mouth fell open. “Guy…”
His cell phone chirped loudly, and he grabbed it to look down at the number.
Quickly, he answered it. “Talk to me, Spence.”
“Good.” Guy gave her the thumbs-up. “Did we get the warden? Yeah. Good. We didn’t at Crescent. She’s still at large. We think the Fury has her.” Guy paused, listening to whatever Spencer Lewis was saying on the other end of the phone. “Addison has started pick-up. She thinks about thirty percent of the Conditioned are in the wind. The other seventy percent we have. So compete with your wife, see if you can do better. The other two islands are all set up.”
Shiri had heard enough. She moved fast, away from Guy. His confession had rocked her. She ached for Ben and his girls. The only thing that had kept her going was the absolute belief that it had been the right thing to do to keep herself hidden from him, and that someday they could be reunited.
Tears fell from her eyes, and she wiped them away as she ran toward her bungalow. When was the last time she’d cried? She sniffled at the thought. Five years. The first night she had been here.
Spencer had moved her through dark space—an experience she hoped never to have to repeat—and after being introduced to everyone on the island she’d been left alone in her new home to find her footing. It hadn’t taken her any time to start bawling. Two days later, Tara had dragged her cried-out self outside to face life.
She wasn’t that girl anymore. The girl with no name. The Conditioned victim who had spent her life being used by a maniacal woman who had wanted her put to death before her time. If she was sometimes sad that the one bright part of her miserable life before she’d arrived couldn’t know she was alive, then it was her problem to handle.
But now Guy said that decision had been wrong? Ah, hell.
She flung open the door and threw herself down on her bed. Her face down on the pillow, she took a shallow breath. It smelled like home in here, and she could think. She could somehow make sense of this.
As she closed her eyes, she called the energy that existed in all living things. Within a few seconds, she’d created a barrier that would keep all but the most gifted dark-space travelers from entering her space. That trick was one of the first Spencer had taught her. Shiri wasn’t a passive participant in her gift: she got to control it.
A whisper traveled on the wind. Seven…
Shiri sat up. Who had said that? No one used that name, no one. It was one of Guy’s rules. Every person on the island had a name, and if they didn’t have one, they came up with one for themselves. It had taken her weeks to come up with hers, and she still wasn’t sure if it had been the right choice.
Seven, help us.
She got off the bed. “Hello, is someone there?” She sent her talent out to check the energy she’d strung around the bungalow. There was no break. No one had approached.
Please, Seven, come out of hiding. They’ve taken my dad and my uncle. Everyone has left. They’re all scared. We don’t know what to do. If you’re there like I think you’re there, please come back for us.
Daphne. Shiri fell to her knees. Oh God, Daphne was also a Telepath. That wasn’t such an easy power to hide. Most Telepaths changed slightly when they used their physical power. How had Ben handled it? She’d had no idea. A dual power? Very rare. Like Guy and Addison.
Shiri bit her thumbnail. Ben and Gene had been taken. Both of them. And they weren’t back yet? But they didn’t know anything. Roman had taken care of it.
They should have been released when the Fury saw they had no information.
Oh, damn it.
Shiri stood. She wasn’t a Telepath. She couldn’t speak back to Daphne, but someone could. Lesley could answer her.
“Lesley!” She ran in the direction of the main house. “Lesley!” Over and over she screamed the other woman’s name until she was just about to the house.
Her friend rushed through the front door. They nearly collided before Lesley grabbed Shiri’s arms to steady her. “What is it? What’s happened?”
“Ben, my friend. You remember him?”
Lesley raised an eyebrow. “Friend?”
“Okay, whatever. His daughter, Daphne. You remember, I told you about his daughters and that one of them—”
“Is Conditioned. Yes.”
“She just spoke to me telepathically.”
Her friend fell silent. “She’s telepathic? I thought she was a Seer.”
“It seems she’s both.”
“Damn.” Lesley fell silent, chewing on her bottom lip.
“Can you answer her for me? They’ve taken Ben and Gene and haven’t returned them yet.”
“I can’t answer until I speak to Guy.”
“Right.” The adrenaline surging through Shiri’s veins made her hands shake.
“Let’s go.”
Lesley grabbed her hand. “Come on.”
They ran together through the paths their group had carved out for themselves. When Guy had come to the island, there had been nothing. By the time Shiri had gotten there, most of the work had been done, but she had done her part digging and paving when necessary.
The paths had never seemed so long as now. Daphne needed her, and Ben was missing. Oh, and Ella must be suffering greatly watching all this happen to her family. It was hard for Shiri not to imagine them as the little girls they’d been when last she’d seen them. Five years had passed. They’d be eleven years old. Not little anymore, and she’d missed them as much as she’d missed Ben. Oh, how she wanted Guy to say yes. There was no way Lesley would break any rules.
Well, that was too bad. If she couldn’t speak to Daphne telepathically, she’d go to her personally. She wasn’t a prisoner. They couldn’t make her stay if she insisted on going. Could they?
Together, they nearly slammed into Guy. He was still on the phone, but that was his standard pose these days. She couldn’t imagine that organizing an uprising was an easy task, even if you had been planning it for it most of your life.
He held out his hand to them as he hung up the phone. “What’s going on?” He looked directly at Shiri. “Why did you run off like that?”
Shiri shook her head. “I’ve been contacted telepathically by Daphne, Ben Lavelle’s daughter.”
Guy whistled through his teeth. “I didn’t know she could do that. I thought she was a Seer.”
If Shiri had to answer that question one more time, she was going to pull out her hair. “Apparently, she can do both. I haven’t been in contact with her for five years. I didn’t know. That’s not important. I need Lesley to answer her.”
“Hold on a second.” Guy held up his hands. “I know you haven’t seen her in five years. I’m not an idiot. There was a purpose to my question.”
Shiri clasped her hands together in a gesture she hoped would show her frustration without being outright rude. “I’m sorry, Guy. Please go ahead.”
“Don’t you think it’s ironic that this new power we knew nothing about, despite Roman watching them so closely for us for so many years, shows up on the day we blow up not one, but two Institutions?”
“No.” Shiri heard his words, but the doubt that should have presented itself with them didn’t. “It’s not weird. Her father is missing. Why would she have reached out before now? They’ve apparently taken her uncle, too. The girls have to be terrified.”
“If Roman is correct, the girls have the strongest wing of the New Orleans Mafia watching their every move. They’re safe.”
“No, Guy. They’re not. I know the timing sucks. I get it. This is the last thing you need, but either you let Lesley answer her, or I’m going to see her myself.”
Guy leaned back against the closest palm tree. “You would do that, Shiri? You would go to this child even if I said that by doing so you wouldn’t be able to come back?”
She sighed. “Guy, you just told me that keeping him aw
ay had been a mistake. Let’s rectify it.”
He nodded. “I think you just answered my question, didn’t you? If I don’t agree to this, then you’ll go. You’ll leave us.”
Even though it killed a part of her to have to admit it to the man who had taken her in, clothed her, taught her, and protected her for five years, she nodded slowly. “Yes, I would go and not come back.”
He smiled, showing the dimple in his left cheek. “Now there’s the backbone I like to see in you. Five years ago, you were broken. But you fixed yourself. Go get your man and your girls.”
“How can I get Ben? He’s in the custody of the Fury.”
“Go see Addison. She’ll help you. I’m sorry, I can’t let Lesley contact her. It’s too risky. We don’t know what they’re monitoring, even if Daphne doesn’t mean for it to happen.”
Shiri sighed. It wasn’t what she’d wanted, but it was better than nothing.
Guy grabbed her arm. “Just remember this. If they have her father, the girls will do anything to get him back. That’s how these things work.”
“I’m just one little Conditioned woman. As far as they were concerned, I was pretty weak. Why would they care that much about getting me back?”
“Why did they want you dead so badly in the first place? We don’t know. Watch yourself. Be careful getting back. I’m going to need you to help me with all the folks who’re going to be coming. They’ll be wounded, like you were. Maybe worse.”
“I’ll hurry.”
As she turned to run away, a slight fear settled into her stomach. What if Ben didn’t want to come with her? What if he didn’t care about her anymore or he couldn’t understand what she’d done?
“Shiri.”
She turned around to Lesley’s call.
“Yes?”
“We’ll miss you. Hurry back home.”
Shiri loved that word. Home. But it never had been, because Ben hadn’t been with her. If she could bring him back, then it would be home, for the first time in her life.
Thirteen
Ben hadn’t smoked a cigarette since he was in college—he’d sworn to himself that he never would again—but he was ready to make an exception to his personal rule. If only someone would offer him one. He leaned back in his uncomfortable chair and drummed his hands on the table in front of him. The fluorescent light that illuminated the interview room buzzed above him, and he knew that at any second he would acquire a migraine headache.
He rubbed his forehead. No one had been in to see him for an hour at least. They’d taken his watch and his cell phone, so he couldn’t be exactly sure that was how much time had passed. But it felt like at least that long. Of course, it might only have been ten minutes, with the buzzing fluorescents making it seem so much longer.
Somewhere off in the distance he could smell coffee brewing, but like the cigarette, no one asked him if he wanted any. He sniffed the air again. That scent. Coffee. It reminded him of someone but he couldn’t place who. He rubbed his head again. Something just felt… off.
The police had dragged him in here and left him in this chair. How on Earth they thought he could have had anything to do with the bombings at the Crescent, he didn’t know. Sure, he fought against injustice like anyone with a moral sense would, but bomb an Institution? He wouldn’t have the slightest idea how to go about doing that.
He’d been separated from Gene, which didn’t surprise him at all. If they really thought he had planted a bomb, then they would want to divide him from his support system and try to get the truth from someone else.
Two men had arrived shortly after that. They hadn’t uttered a word, just kind of stared at him weirdly and then looked at each other with frightened eyes. He’d asked for a lawyer, and they had left.
That had been it. That had been the last time he’d seen another human being. He leaned back in his chair. In a minute he would throw it against what he assumed was the two-way mirror he faced.
The door swung open and an older woman marched in. She held her back straight as if she had a board attached to it. Short white hair stopped at the nape of her neck except for where it curled slightly under her ears. Silver cat earrings adorned her earlobes and a tight expression graced her lips.
Ben would have known her anywhere. He’d been fighting the good fight against her for years. She was Madame Joan, the proprietress of Crescent—the Institution that had burned to the ground just that morning.
He looked up at her, surprised by the smile that wanted to cross his lips. She must have been in deep trouble if she was stooping to speak with him. In the five years since he’d picked up his cause, she’d never taken one meeting with him. Not one. Yet here she was now. It was almost too bad that he couldn’t take credit for the problems she was facing.
“Mr. Lavelle.”
Her voice had a slight French accent that he imagined she thought made her sound sophisticated. The woman hadn’t lived in France since she’d been three years old. There was no way she still had such a thick intonation. No, that was as put-on as the rest of her. Ben knew a lot of her secrets, much more than he should have known. He rubbed his forehead. Why did he know so much about her? How had he acquired that information? God, he must be losing his mind. Or had lost it already. Who the hell knew?
“You have been tampered with.” Madame spoke her words with such a sneer that he thought she should give lessons on the act to those who wanted to learn it.
“I’m not sure what that means. As far as I know, I haven’t been ‘tampered’ with.” He sat forward, determined to overcome his fatigue and not let her have the upper hand in this conversation. “If I’m being accused of something, I want a lawyer. If I’m not, I want to be released. And for the record, I’m pretty sure that no law in this land would give you the right to question me about anything. I am not Conditioned, and you have no jurisdiction over me.”
Her eyes lit up with anger. “The whole country is in an uproar. We are under attack by a madman who wants to let loose the most dangerous monsters ever born. Some of them are already causing havoc. I assure you, Mr. Lavelle, no one in the world cares about your rights at the moment.”
He shrugged. “Maybe not at this moment, but in a few weeks when I bring a lawsuit against you, this police department, and the entire state of Louisiana for violating my rights, then you will care very deeply.”
As a rule, Ben didn’t make threats he didn’t intend to keep. He felt giddy at the idea of filling out the paperwork to take them all down. Forms and legal precedents had never excited him as much as they did right at that moment.
“Who says you’re going to live through this experience, Mr. Lavelle? If I have my way—and I always do—you won’t be walking out of this room alive. Or maybe I can let you live… as a vegetable. I’m sure your daughters will love having to care for you for the rest of their lives.”
Now the woman had gone too far. “You may be able to kill me. I don’t doubt it. You are a sick bitch. But you’ll never stop what has happened. Those ‘monsters’ are going to come down on you. They’ll redefine the word nightmare.”
“Do you know what amuses me about this? You don’t even know why you feel this way. My boys tell me that your memory has been so tampered with that you don’t even know who Seven was.”
He blinked. It was as if she were speaking gibberish. “I’m sorry, did you say something about the number seven? I’m usually pretty good at following conversations but my mental prowess clearly doesn’t apply to you.”
Madame sat down on the table and leaned over until she was inches from his face. He could smell her sour breath, and it made him want to gag. He forced himself not to give in to the urge. It was a small inner victory, but he would take it just the same.
“Do you know what amazes me about you at the moment? I’ll repeat this again. You don’t even know why.”
“Once again, you might want to work on your conversation skills. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
She shook he
r head. “For the last five years, you have been a thorn in my side. The Council didn’t want you touched. Oliver Wade said you were to be left alone, that you would fade away into obscurity, remembered only for being a rabble-rouser at best and a lunatic at worst. I was willing to put up with your craziness because I understood where it came from. You loved the girl.”
He had no idea what she was talking about. “I’ve loved one woman in my life, and her name was Dana Lavelle. She was my wife, until she died of cancer when my girls were two years old.”
“No. You loved again.” She laughed. “You’ve had your mind erased, although who is capable of this level of manipulation, I cannot imagine. As far as I knew, there weren’t any Conditioned Mind-Erasers left alive. In general, we put them to death as soon as we find them.”
“That’s disgusting.” Anger surged through his veins. The woman had no right to put to death people’s loved ones. She had to be stopped. It had to end before anyone else…
He blinked a few times. Before anyone else what? Before what happened to whom?
“Ah, yes. You’re finding you have blank spots, aren’t you?” She stood and walked to the two-way mirror. “There are places in your head where one plus one is not adding up to two. Something you can’t seem to remember.”
She was remarkably accurate in her description, but he wasn’t going to let her know that. He didn’t like—at all—that they were playing around in his head, and he didn’t trust Madame Joan any further than he could throw her. Just because she said something odd was happening in his head, didn’t mean she hadn’t planted the sensation there just to fool with him.
This whole thing was fucking bullshit.
“I want my lawyer. If you want to charge me with something, charge me. If you’re going to kill me, I can assure you there will be consequences and not necessarily of the legal kind. My brother—whom you’d better let out of here unharmed—is a powerful guy. His employer will seek vengeance for this.”
Illicit Connections (Illicit Minds Book 2) Page 13
