I didn’t let go of him. “No one else in the facility has done this that I know of. Not even the people I knew from before.”
“That was Easter, wasn’t it?” he asked softly, and I nodded. He blinked. “I’m sure I saw Snake too. He grew up not far from me.” He frowned and shook his head. “How can this be happening?”
I didn’t answer his question. “They are going to change your name. They call Easter Esther now, as if that would make her ‘normal.’” I blew a breath out. “I don’t know how to help them, Cowboy. But if you’re here, then . . .”
“Then we aren’t on our own.” A light sparked in his blue eyes. “There could be others locked up in other places around the world.”
My fingers convulsed, his words sending that current inside me into a maelstrom, even though I didn’t move. “What did you say?”
He winced. “Well, I would think there are other places like this one. I mean . . . they’ve been gathering up abnormals at a pace that . . . it hasn’t left many on the outside, and unless you’ve got several thousand abnormals here, this can’t be all of us. I’ve been hiding the last ten months or so, picking up information where I could, but it was sketchy at best. What I heard made me stay put.”
“Sweet Jesus,” I whispered, slumping to my knees. He followed me to what made up ground in this place. “Are you sure?”
He nodded. “About six months ago there was another big purge after the first, a new law passed that abnormals are an abomination. They say we’re causing humans to develop cancer, amongst a few other diseases.”
I wasn’t really surprised about that. The laws had been shifting for the last ten years, pushing abnormals into slums, out of the cities, out of schools and hospitals. What the normals—humans—didn’t understand was that they were being controlled by the very ones they feared. I knew of at least three senators who were abnormals. One was in the running for the presidency by the way the polls had been a year before.
“I was taken before any law was put into play,” I said. “Almost a year ago.”
Looking at it through the lens of a war, I knew exactly what they’d done. A pre-purge of the strongest abnormals to stop us from banding together. We must have been watched for a long time before this happened. Years before, which made my skin crawl.
“Fuck, every gang in the world is headed by abnormals of fearsome power. None of them would go down easy,” I said.
“They didn’t go down easy,” he said, closing his eyes. “They fought, but . . . they all fell.”
Chills slid over my skin, raising it into bumps as I thought about those I loved outside of these walls. All of them abnormals. All of them powerhouses.
I forced out the next question, fearing and wanting the answer in equal parts. “What about the Irish mafia? They were centered in New York.”
“Gone,” he whispered. “The big hitters were the first to go, before the purge six months ago, and the rest of us lost what little protection we got from them.”
I bowed my head, my heart thumping as I heard his voice in my head, the Irish brogue soft and rolling through me. Not real, but my memories made it so in that moment, and I clung to it with everything I had in me so I didn’t break and scatter to the four winds.
“Don’t give up, lass. I won’t be dead till you see me body.”
Slowing my breathing, my mind picked up pace as I worked through what had to happen if we were to get out of here. All along I’d been thinking I just needed to hang on, that Killian would come for me if he could. With each day that passed, I knew the chances were slimming, but I’d not had an opportunity to make a breakout here. Until now.
I lifted my head and his eyes snapped upward, caught red-handed as it were. “What are your abilities?”
He swallowed hard. “Power surges, like an EMP pulse, but they leave me drained, and I have a knack with animals. That one I can do in my sleep, it never leaves me,” he said.
Decent enough abilities, and the fact that I couldn’t smell him like I could smell an abnormal of a weaker ability was enough to recommend him to me. He was strong, even if he was young and inexperienced.
“They’re going to put a blocker on you, something that stops you from using your abilities, and a tracer.” I could feel him sliding out from under my hands, his body no doubt being prodded awake. It had happened to me more than once, yanked out of this place of safety before I was ready.
“We’re going to break out, aren’t we?” he whispered.
I gave him a quick nod. “Yes. But don’t do anything until I say so. I’m going to try to get through to someone else.” Someone I’d been working on for a long time. Someone who couldn’t be taken down like most abnormals.
I let him go and he slid away from me, but his eyes dipped as he was wrenched out of the mist. A slow grin slid over his mouth. “You look good, Phoenix. Better than I’d ever thought a boogeyman could look.”
Before I could tell him to keep his fucking eyes to himself, he was gone, back to his body, and that left me alone with my thoughts, the water swirling around me.
Back on my feet, not remembering standing, I paced the darkness and fog.
More facilities? How many? Cowboy was right about our numbers, far larger than the normal population would ever really know. So caging us all wasn’t going to work. They would kill off the weaker ones, keep the ones they could use somehow. Especially if they were operating legally. The three abnormals in the Senate were influential and well-liked, which meant they were either dead or they’d failed to block this law. That was the only way this made sense.
“It can’t be. I’m missing something.”
I’d been in the facility a long time, almost a year, and I still didn’t really understand what they wanted from us. There had been a few blood tests, some psych tests, and the constant probing of our minds, but no training. No cutting into our bodies.
Were we going to be killed off? That was possible. But if that were the case, why hadn’t they done it yet? We were sitting ducks, and while a few of our kind had been killed, they’d kept the rest of us in stasis.
Were we going to be turned into some sort of abnormal army, weaponized to fight the normals’ wars?
Also possible.
But neither option felt quite right.
There was something under it all, like the currents I saw in my mind and they slid through my fingers just the same as the fog.
“Who the fuck is behind this all?” My voice echoed into the nothingness around me.
No one offered any answers, not that I’d expected one.
Although my father had been an enemy to other abnormals, that had been a power play to keep his side of the mob intact. And he was dead, gone.
According to what the kid had said, all the other big players in the underworld of our society were gone too. I would have no idea where to start on the outside, once I was out. Because I had to believe I would get out, or I’d lose what was left of my goddamn mind.
The faces I loved came to me, one, two, three, and I pushed them away, terrified that I wasn’t completely safe, even in this place, and they’d be found because of me. I was almost certain that was how this was happening. That the handlers could see our very thoughts, and I suspected they were using them to track down our loved ones that were also abnormals.
I didn’t think any of the other abnormals could feel the handlers, the fingers in their minds, the thoughts in someone else’s voice, but I didn’t dare ask. My son’s face surfaced in my thoughts again, though, insistent, and this time I couldn’t deny the pull to him. Dark hair and eyes like mine, his face was starting to look more and more like my brother and my father. Handsome, but it was hard to see those genetics become dominant. Not that he was anything like them. Or really even like me. Which was good. I blinked and . . .
Bear was right in front of me, on his knees, his hands on his face. Shoulders shaking, he sobbed, rocking in place. I’d seen him before in this place. Always in flashes. Laughing, smiling.
Safe. And I’d always pushed him away to keep him safe. But never had I seen him like this. Not an extended vision of him.
It took everything I had to hold my tongue. I didn’t know how safe this was, if he could be found this way. I dropped to my knees beside him. His clothing was torn, and blood trickled down one arm.
Someone had hurt him.
3
Rage curled through me, clarifying everything. I’d waited long enough, now was the time to move. My son needed me and that was all it took to solidify that I had to make the breakout now.
Killian, the man I’d loved, had let me down the night I’d been taken. While my memories of the night were more than a little jumbled and broken, I knew one thing for sure. He’d let me go without a fight. Part of me understood, yet it hurt me in a way I didn’t like to admit. All that aside, I knew without a shadow of a doubt he would never let anything happen to Bear. He would have protected him with his own life before letting Bear be beaten. Which meant Killian had likely been taken into another facility.
And my son was on his own, fighting for his life in a world that wanted to destroy him.
“I’m coming, my boy. Hold on,” I whispered, daring to touch his head, but my hand went through him as he disappeared.
Someone called my name and I looked upward, through the current to the surface of the water. Above me I could see my naked body sitting on the bed, eyes closed, hands resting on folded knees.
Easter (I refused to call her by her captive name when I was here in this place) tapped my physical leg. “Wake up, Fiona.”
I blew out a breath and pushed off the bottom of the river, through the current and to the surface of the water, then through that as well, feeling the safety of my sanctuary slide off my skin.
I blinked once and stared up at Esther, fighting the thoughts that wanted to come with me. “Hey, what time is it?”
“Nearly dinner. You’ve been meditating this whole time?” She didn’t arch an eyebrow, just looked at me.
Blank, she was blank. I smiled, forcing the same blankness into my eyes. “The doc said it’s good for us to let our minds be empty. Don’t you meditate?”
Her eyes didn’t change. “I lie quiet on my bed and that is as close as I get. Is that what you mean?”
There was nothing for me to do but nod in agreement even though my stomach twisted with nausea again. The fingers in my mind were back, trying to soothe the anxiety that I couldn’t still on my own. I pushed them away as carefully as I could. No need for alarm, just worried about the new kid.
You aren’t the monster they say you are. You are good and kind.
She tugged on the end of her braided hair, twisting it around her fingers. “Do you want something to eat?”
I didn’t but agreed to go with her. The food in the cafeteria was poor, though everyone else seemed to like it. The main dish was always the same, a type of gelatinous pudding that had a variety of vegetables splattered through it, and an undistinguishable meat on the side that was always overcooked with a faint bitter tang that I knew was the sedative. A barbiturate, no doubt.
Three times a day.
Every day.
I got most of it down, moving on autopilot, not letting my mind think.
Two cats wandered through the room, hopping up onto the tables, butting their heads against the people here. A few hands lifted, petting what were supposed to be therapy animals. The dogs slipped into the room next, tails down, eyes blank.
The leanest of the dogs sat at my feet. He was light brown with dark points on his muzzle. A Belgian Malinois. His name was Abe and he was as trained as the dog that my handler told me wasn’t real.
This was real.
This was the only Abe I knew.
I ignored him, though he reminded me so much of . . . no. There was nothing else. I ignored him. The other dog I fed was one that would be dead soon, I was sure. She was miserable, mean, and barely took food from me. Dead. Just like the other Abe.
“I should take food to the one downstairs,” I said to Esther as I stood, thinking the thoughts they wanted me to. We needed to help those who fought the handlers understand that this was a good place. The animals were a kind touch, just not my thing. I didn’t care about dogs.
There was no Abe in my past, no dog that I loved and who had fought at my side.
Esther didn’t so much as look my way. “You do too much. You need to rest.”
I paused. That was new. “I do what we’re asked to do. To help the others.”
Which wasn’t incorrect. I took a deep breath, the sedative slowing my thoughts and my movements, and retrieved a second tray. The fingers in my mind loosened, same as they always did after I ate. I waited until they were gone from my mind, then I pushed back on the sedative’s effects, clearing my thoughts at least a little. Like working through being tortured, there were ways to function while you were drugged, even if it wasn’t easy.
There was a prisoner here, a man who fought the training and help.
A man who’d tried to escape sixteen times. Based on his rants, he’d nearly made it out the last time. I’d taken note of every route he’d tried, every trick he’d employed. Every reason they’d caught him.
Each time they brought him back, I thought they’d kill him, but it hadn’t happened yet. I clamped down on my thoughts, just in case. I made my way to the stairs that would lead to the floor below us.
George was the guard at the door tonight.
“You on it?” he asked.
“All good. He has to eat if the docs are going to help him.” I balanced the tray as George held the door open for me. Down the stairs I went, my bare feet slapping lightly on the concrete floor. The temperatures dipped the farther I went, and a breeze that shouldn’t have existed picked up.
If I didn’t take him food, he didn’t eat. I was the only one he’d eat for. My hands tightened on the tray, shaking a little.
Everyone else was terrified of him.
Even the doctors.
The guards.
Everyone. So I had to pretend to be afraid of him too.
“Pete, you hungry?”
There was silence for half a beat and then he replied as he always did. “Fuck off, you fucking traitorous bitch!”
I sighed. “I’m here to help you, Pete. If you’d just listen to me, you wouldn’t be kept down here. You could come up with the rest of us. You need to listen to my words.”
The room was a simple rectangle shape, more long than wide, and his chains were attached at the very back of the room. No bars, no doors, because those chains were on each limb rubbing him raw over time. A rattle of chains and then he was right there in my face, straining toward me with his very sharp, very pointed, teeth bared. “Traitor! You were the best of us! You were the one who could have stopped this! You had a chance!”
I held the food out to him, staying just outside his reach of where his chains allowed him. I was being careful, that’s what I told myself, but I put myself just an inch too close.
I locked eyes with him, willing him to listen to my words and understand how important they were. “Let me help you, Pete.”
He snapped a hand out for the tray and his fingers touched my wrist. His eyes widened and he yanked me closer. I didn’t fight, thinking that’s what happened when the drugs were thick in your system.
Alarms didn’t go off. The fingers in my mind didn’t come back.
There were no cameras down here, not on a madman who lived and breathed in what would be his coffin one day at the rate he was going.
Pete rolled me around so my back was flush against his chest, tipped my head sideways, then bit into the crook of my neck, teeth sinking in around my collarbone. I closed my eyes and breathed through the pain and welcomed the darkness that washed over me, drawing the meditation into me in a blink.
Only this time, I took Pete with me. With his mouth locked on my neck, drinking me down, he had no choice as I dove below the surface of the river in my mind, taking his consci
ousness with me. A dangerous gambit, seeing as I didn’t fully understand this ability myself. But desperate times called for daring . . .
As soon as we were through the raging currents and on the floor of the river, I jammed my fist back, unlocking him from my neck, then spun and fully pushed him off me. “You fucking moron!” I yelled. “Can you not see that I have been trying to reach you all this time? They have fingers in our goddamn minds! It’s not like I could just walk up to you and tell you to bide your time. I am working on something!”
His jaw dropped open, my blood dripping from it. I glanced up at the scene through the river’s surface to see him still latched onto my neck, his eyes closed, but there was no movement in his throat. We were in a holding pattern in the real world. But we wouldn’t have long.
“Jesus, Phoenix! I thought—”
“I know what you thought, you dumbass. You fought so hard and what did they do to you? They locked you up tighter and tighter.”
His jaw flopped open again. “And you . . . have barely a chain on you.”
“Exactly. I did what they wanted, knowing our time would come. You can block them out, can’t you?”
“Yes, it’s why they can’t compel me.” He licked his lips and gave a little groan.
It had to be a Magelore trick. Blood drinkers, soul stealers, they were feared amongst abnormals for their myriad abilities and the power in their bite and gaze. Their ability to use mind control was well known. In the past, I’d wondered if the facility and the handlers were controlling us with Magelore magic, but I didn’t know any strong enough to cause this level of destruction. Or smart enough, for that matter.
“You are the one person I can be straight with. There is a young abnormal here, brand new, and he can walk this place of darkness like I can. Our minds are safe from the handlers here and nowhere else. Can you meet us tonight? Do you think you can get your ass back here by yourself now that you’ve seen it?”
Pete nodded and looked around, a soft look in his dark eyes. “Yeah. You really think you can break us out?”
A Savage Spell (The Nix Series Book 4) Page 3
