Exiled (TalentBorn Book 2)

by C. S. Churton

  “I’ll tell Ephraim,” I say more calmly than I feel. “No-one else.”

  “Put your hands on your heads.”

  “I’m the one who has reason not to trust you,” I point out, but he says nothing so reluctantly I place my hands behind my head.

  “And him.”

  I twist to look at Iain. He’s no happier about this than I am, but he gets the message and follows the instruction.

  “Step forward, slowly. Just you.”

  I take three slow steps forwards, and hear movement behind me. Rough hands make contact with my shoulders, and I hold still. I’ve been searched before, and the Ishmaelians don’t scare me half so much as the French special forces did. Not that that’s saying much, because the French terrified me. The hands start patting me down, quickly and efficiently. Whoever it was had clearly paid attention to Scott’s security protocols. I hope the irony of that isn’t lost on them.

  They finish with me and move on to Iain. I turn to watch him, taking care to keep my hands in place, in case the rest of the security detail get the wrong idea. There’s nothing to find – we left everything we had in the car – and the search is over quickly. The figure steps back with a nod.

  “Satisfied? You’re wasting time. Tell Ephraim I’m here.”

  “I’m already aware,” a voice responds, stepping through a shadowed doorway in the back of the room. Ephraim. There’s only one figure by his side, and it’s not Mika. My eyebrows knit but I smooth them back out.

  “Good. Then tell your men to stand down.”

  “What I’m not aware of,” he says, ignoring me, “is why you’ve brought this… outsider with you.”

  The figure beside him whispers in his ear, and the temperature in the room drops several degrees.

  “You’ve brought an ungifted into our home?” he demands.

  “Ungifted?” Iain says.

  “Try not to take offence,” I tell him, and then turn back to Ephraim and lower my hands. “This ‘ungifted’ has done more to clean up your mess than you have.”

  “And by ‘my mess’, I assume you’re referring to Scott’s capture by your former allies?”

  Touché.

  “Did you know that she was one of them, when you sent him out there?”

  Ephraim raises a hand, and the security detail lower their weapons. Finally. Iain drops his hands back to his sides, but watches the armed figures warily.

  “I did not, and what happened is regrettable. If nothing else, Anna, trust that I would never want Scott to fall into Pearce’s hands.”

  I nod. I can trust that much, because Ephraim has nothing to gain from giving AbGen more power. Complacent, not complicit.

  “And trust that if I meant you harm,” I counter, “I wouldn’t have used the front door.”

  Ephraim nods.

  “Come. We have much to speak about.”

  Ephraim turns and leaves, and we follow him. Two guards step quickly to block Iain’s path, weapons raised.

  “Not him,” one says. “He knows too much already.”

  I’m about to argue, but Iain raises his hands and shakes his head at me.

  “Go. It’s fine.”

  I give him a long look, then turn and follow Ephraim, with a pair of guards following me. I guess I’m not to be trusted any more.

  We end up in Ephraim’s office, and I take a seat opposite his desk. A shudder runs through me and I glance at the seat Scott was in last time we were here. Ephraim follows the direction of my gaze.

  “We’re all deeply sorry about what happened to Scott.”

  “You’re talking like he’s already dead.”

  “You have every reason to be angry – but it is not at us your anger should be directed.”

  I force myself to take a breath instead of retorting. He’s right: I need to remember who the real enemy is, and it’s not the man sitting opposite me. I need Ephraim on side if I’m going to have any chance of making Scott’s rescue mission a success.

  “That’s why I’m here.”

  “And the ungifted?”

  I resist the urge to roll my eyes; barely.

  “His name’s Iain. That’s why he’s here too. We have a plan to get Scott back, but we need your help.”

  “Oh?”

  “Will you at least hear us out?” To his credit, Ephraim’s hesitation is barely discernible.

  “I will.” He rises from his seat. “I shall gather the others. We will meet you in the briefing room.”

  “And Iain?”

  He breathes deeply, and I can see I’m pushing the boundaries by asking him to include an outsider – an ‘ungifted’ at that. I don’t care. We wouldn’t be in this position if it wasn’t for his mission. Iain has done more to help me than any of the Ishmaelians.

  “Very well. You may bring him.”

  I duck out of his office before he has a chance to change his mind, and make straight for the entrance hall. I pass several people on my way, who greet me with nods to my face and hushed whispers behind my back. Let them talk about me, it doesn’t matter. They’ll follow Ephraim’s lead when it comes to it.

  “Rohan, let him go!” The voice reaches me in the corridor, and I race the last few steps to the entrance. Iain is against the wall, several feet above the ground, held there by an invisible force. He’s struggling, but he’s no match for Rohan’s telekinesis. The youth is standing across the room, hand raised, pinning the cop in place. Mika is staring at him with wide eyes.

  “Rohan, that’s enough!” I say, as I walk into the room. He turns to look at me and Iain slides a little down the wall. The telekinetic grits his teeth and Iain is pinned again.

  I look around and see the security team looking distinctly unfazed by Rohan’s actions. Typical Ishmaelian prejudice. It’d be a different story if it was an absa pinned against the wall.

  “Rohan, what are you doing? He’s a friend.”

  “He’s an outsider. And he lied. He said he doesn’t know where Scott is.”

  I look at the shaken red-haired girl behind him, and nod.

  “Iain, where is Scott?”

  “I. Don’t. Know.”

  “Lie.”

  All three of us stare at Mika, then Rohan tenses the muscles in his hand and Iain groans in pain. I think quickly. It’s all about the nuances.

  “Easy, Rohan,” I caution, trying to keep my voice calm. “He can’t talk if you kill him.” The muscles in his hand relax just slightly, and I wait for the pain to ease from Iain’s face before I ask, “Who has Scott?”

  “Pearce! AbGen.”

  “Truth.”

  I nod.

  “You see, Rohan? He’s co-operating. Let him down.”

  Rohan shakes his head and I roll my eyes behind his back.

  “Do you know the exact location Pearce is keeping him?”

  Iain hesitates, like he’s suddenly unsure of himself, or maybe just worried what’s going to happen when he answers. His eyes go from Rohan, to Mika, and back again.

  “No.”

  “Truth.”

  He slides six inches down the wall before Rohan twists his head back to the cop and pins him there.

  “But…” the youth says, and I can hear the confusion in his voice.

  “Last question. Do you know roughly where Scott is?”

  “Yes. Somewhere in Cheshire.”

  “Truth.”

  “You see, Rohan? You just asked the wrong question.”

  He drops his hand and Iain falls to the floor in heap, gasping. I head over to help him up, embracing Mika briefly on my way past.

  “It’s good to have you back, Anna,” she says with a shy smile.

  “I’d like to say it’s good to be back, but…” I gesture to Iain, and then offer him my hand and pull him up. He brushes himself down, then looks at my young companion.

  “You’d be a hell of an addition to the police service,” he tells her, and then turns to Rohan. “You… not so much. No hard feelings?” He holds his hand out. Rohan stare
s at it for a long moment, then nods and shakes it.

  “We’re wanted in the briefing room,” I tell Iain, and then nod to Mika. “You too.”

  She takes Rohan’s hand and heads for the door – because, much like Scott and I, where she goes, he goes. I’m happy for them, even as I feel a pang of sadness. Iain and I fall in behind them at a distance.

  “You need to watch what you say around these people,” I hiss.

  “Yeah,” he says, rolling his shoulders. “I’m getting that.”

  “Well get this: guns are the least dangerous thing around here. And the guy you’re about to meet, Ephraim? He’s a hero to most of these people. More than that. He raised them up out of the dirt. Gave them a home. Gave them hope. Be careful.”

  “Keep my mouth shut and look pretty. Got it.”

  I roll my eyes again, wondering how I manage so consistently to surround myself with men who are incapable of taking anything seriously. I need to address that when I get out of here.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  We step into the briefing room, and it’s already packed – Ephraim, Alistair, and Mary are sat on one side of a long table, Mika’s at Ephraim’s shoulder, and Rohan is standing behind her chair. Natural light filters into the room from several small windows set high in the walls – we’re in one of the few above-ground rooms. I recognise a couple of the other faces that are cluttered round, and nod hellos to them as Iain and I make our way to the only two unoccupied chairs.

  “Anna, it’s good to see you back,” Alistair says, with what looks like a genuine smile.

  “It’s good to be back. I hope we can all learn to trust each other again.”

  “Perhaps we might start with some introductions?” Ephraim says, with a pointed glance at Iain. I acquiesce.

  “This is Iain Drake. I can vouch for him.”

  “I object to the ungifted being present,” Mary says. I shoot her a cold look.

  “This ‘ungifted’ has done more to help find Scott that anyone here. So object all you like. He’s staying.”

  “There is no need for hostility among us,” Ephraim says calmly. “The ungifted has my leave to remain.”

  I chaff at his insistence on referring to Iain by his lack of a talent, and feel the cop tense beside me. I regard his face carefully to make sure we’re not about to have a problem – it’s going to be hard enough for us all to work together without anyone taking offence where none is intended. Myself included. To my relief, Iain merely gives Ephraim a curt nod.

  “Then let’s talk,” I say. “I accept that it was not your intention to send Scott into AbGen’s trap.” If the situation wasn’t so serious, I’d laugh at the formal tone I’ve adopted, but Ephraim just nods his acceptance of my acceptance, and around the room people start to relax.

  “Indeed, it was not. We appreciate your understanding in reaching this conclusion. I hope that by working together we are able to remedy the situation.”

  “Yeah, me too. We’ve got a plan to get him back, but we can’t do it by ourselves.”

  “Tell us of your plan. We will assist you and the– your companion if we are able.”

  Was that a concession from Ephraim? Wonders never cease. He couldn’t go so far as to use Iain’s name, of course, but it’s a start.

  “Thank you. Hopefully we’ll know where Scott is by…” I glance at Iain. “Tomorrow?”

  He nods, but doesn’t say anything. He’s obviously taking his keep quiet and look pretty pledge seriously, though I can tell he’s itching to get involved.

  “I have already agreed to hand myself over to Pearce in exchange for Scott.” There are gasps around the room and I press on quickly. “A trick. Scott is safe as long as Pearce thinks he’s getting what he wants.”

  “Bold, Anna,” Alistair says with a grim smile. “But then I didn’t expect anything less from you.” I smile in return – I like Alistair – and continue.

  “We’ll arrange to do the exchange in a park – somewhere with just enough people around to stop Pearce’s men using guns. Pearce will show, but he won’t bring Scott – why risking losing one absa when he can have us both? I won’t be there either. I need you guys to stall him long enough for me to get Scott and get clear.”

  “You are asking some of us to put ourselves at considerable risk,” Ephraim observes.

  “I’ll go,” Alistair says. Ephraim and Mary both stare daggers at him.

  “Me, too.”

  It’s my turn to stare: I hadn’t expected Rohan to speak up, but maybe I should have. And there’s no denying it’d be a hell of a lot safer for all of the Ishmaelians if they had a telekinetic on hand if things got violent.

  “We will discuss volunteers if we consent to Anna’s plan,” Ephraim says irritably. I don’t think he likes how much support I have amongst people who are supposed to be loyal to him. He needs to get on board with our whole working together plan.

  “Assuming you are able to lure Pearce away from Scott,” Ephraim continues, and his tone implies he thinks that’s quite an assumption, “exactly how do you propose to get Scott out?”

  Enough talking. It’s time for a demonstration. I reach out and grab Iain’s arm, fling open the lid of my box with all the force I can muster, and shift.

  I’m behind Ephraim’s chair, my hand still gripping Iain’s arm. He staggers onto one knee, looking distinctly queasy.

  “Don’t do that again.”

  I smile, and drag him to his feet. Every eye in the room is on us, embedded in faces that range from shocked to impressed.

  “Your gift has grown, Miss Mason,” Ephraim says with a raised eyebrow.

  “I’ve had a lot of motivation to work harder.”

  He nods, and I head back to my seat. Iain follows, looking a little unsteady on his feet, and staring daggers at me. Okay, I probably should have warned him I was going to do that. In my defence, I didn’t know myself until I actually did it.

  “As far as we know,” I continue, “Pearce only has one shielded EM disruptor, and I’m willing to bet he’ll take it where he expects me to be – the park. I’ll get close enough to wherever he’s got Scott to knock out any other counter-measures he has when I shift in. No-one outside of this room knows what I’m capable of, so he won’t be expecting it. Iain will wait nearby and get us away from the area.”

  “It won’t take Pearce long to realise what’s happening,” Alistair points out, almost apologetically.

  “You’re right. That’s why we co-ordinate it with an attack on AbGen.”

  “Our former plan will not work with some of our number engaged elsewhere,” Ephraim says.

  “I was thinking of a different type of attack.” I put my elbows on the table and lean forwards. “No more holding back, Ephraim. I need to know – do you or don’t you have someone on the inside?”

  If the rest of the Ishmaelians object to me being so direct with their leader, they don’t give any sign of it. I’d guess that half of them are as curious to hear the answer as I am. At length, Ephraim nods.

  “We do.”

  “Could they get a message to someone?”

  “It’s possible.”

  I take that as a yes, and tell them the rest of my plan.

  “We have allies on the inside, still, but no way of contacting them. Your mole needs to get a message to Joe and Helen.”

  “The mind reader and the perception adjustor? And what message would our man convey to them?”

  “That Joe’s family are locked in the basement and Helen needs to use her talent to get them out, at the same time we’re springing Scott.”

  “You know that’s where they are?”

  “No, but I will after I phone Pearce and ask him – with a little help.” I make eye contact with Mika and she smiles. “Look, this is a double win for you, Ephraim. Not only do you get a chance to weaken AbGen, if you play your cards right, you’re going to end up with two new absas with pretty useful talents, and a pair of skilled handlers.”

  “Ungifteds.�
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  “Listen, you need to get over this prejudice. AbGen use them for a reason – and you could make use of two more military trained agents around here.” I neglect to tell him that Joe’s handler is sixty if she’s a day, and is more skilled at working a phone than a pistol. “So, what do you say?”

  Instead of answering me directly, Ephraim looks to Alistair.

  “Do you believe this plan could succeed?”

  Alistair rolls the question around his head for a while before answering.

  “It could. If you’re sure you can get Scott’s location?” he says, directing his question to Iain, who looks slightly startled at being address directly – or maybe he’s just still queasy from shifting – but recovers quickly.

  “We’ll get it. It’s just a matter of time.”

  “Time is the one thing we don’t have,” I point out quietly. It strikes me that the irony here is that Scott himself could track down a lone absa from the information we have in a matter of hours. I don’t say it. Every time I say his name a little stab of pain runs through me. Thinking it is painful enough.

  “I may be able to help,” a man says from the corner of the table. I recognise him, but I don’t think we’ve spoken before. He looks to Ephraim, who nods.

  “I can follow electronic signals,” he explains. “If Pearce goes back there with his phone, I can pinpoint his location.”

  Wow. Cool talent. Why does everyone have a cooler talent than me?

  “I need to be close, though,” he amends. Not so cool.

  “How close?”

  “Twenty miles or so. Thirty at a push.”

  I nod thoughtfully. That should be doable, if Iain’s contact comes back with a general location.

  “Sounds like a plan. I’ll call Pearce in–” I glance at my watch. “Two hours.”

  “Very well,” Ephraim says, rising from his seat. “Then I believe we all have work to do.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  I pace, I plan, I moan. I pace some more. The two hours drag by intolerably slowly. What if Pearce doesn’t come? What if he does come, but brings Scott with him, while I’m standing around in the wrong county? What if any of the Ishmaelians get hurt? What if–