All the King's Men (The Turning Series Book 1)

by Krys Janae

  She missed those old times. She missed being happy. Sloane did too.

  The couch shifted. Sloane leaned forward, propping himself on his elbows over his knees with the drink in one hand and the other placed on his forehead. Danika didn’t need to have been ‘blessed’ with X-ray vision to see the wheels turning in his head. “I fucked up, Dan. Alright? I know I should’ve been there. I should’ve gone back in with him, had his back at Monroe. But he saved all those people. He saved Morgan, Frost…”

  “Charlie…” she whispered.

  “It could have been any of us.”

  “But it had to be him…” Danika stared into the amber glow of the fire. It had died down, turning into a pile of active embers, still providing heat to the room. It warmed her tears as she felt them run down her face. “It had to be him.”

  Sloane sank down a bit at her response, but he knew it was coming. He knew that the way Danika held her emotions, she wasn’t through mourning her late husband. “I know you’re done hearing the words I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah I think I’m about tapped out.” Danika laughed softly.

  “But you have to know that I am. I should’ve come around and been there for you after he died. I guess it’s good we ran into each other out there because now it gives me a chance to make up for that mistake. I’m here now, and we’re gonna bounce back from this.”

  She slumped down with a slight nod, defeated.

  “Come here.” He pulled her in to lean on his shoulder, and she accepted. “We have a job to do tomorrow. If not for Charlie or Morgan or anyone else, it’s for those kids. The Billings’ kid and the girl.”

  “Irene.”

  “Hm?”

  “Her name is Irene Mosley.”

  Sloane nodded solemnly as she put the name to the missing girl. “Irene. They’re going to need our help. We’re going to need you there.”

  His sincerity was not lost on Danika. She was surprised he wanted her to stick around after she’d been a complete jackass to him since they reunited. Then, to try and pep-talk her out of her funk, was totally out of left field, and she didn’t know how to react. She just relaxed.

  “For having what you have…in here—” She pointed at his temple, and then trailed her hand to his chest, poking him right in the sternum. “You got a big heart, Sloane.”

  “Shh, don’t tell anyone. I don’t want them to know my dirty little secret.” He grinned.

  Even behind that sleazy smile, he’s still a good guy, Danika mused.

  “Besides. I know someone else who has a heart, too.”

  “Not a word,” she growled, though playfully in jest.

  “Keep my secret, I’ll keep yours?”

  “Deal.” He kissed the top of her head, giving her a touch of reminiscence, as she remembered how Brice would kiss the top of her head whenever they greeted or bid their farewell.

  Danika missed her big brother. She rested there for a moment, contentedly nestled in the crook of his arm, before straightening again. “Well…don’t mind me. You can get to bed I-I’ll be fine here.”

  “Bullshit. Just…” He gently eased her head back onto his shoulder and kept her there, curled into his side. His fingers gently rubbed over her shoulder and he let his head rest on top of hers.

  She’d never admit that it was comfortable there. Never in a million years.

  “Good night, Dani.”

  “Good night…”

  Assets & Allies

  “It’s done.” The command came through from the comm; Erik and Olivia had been sent over to the Grand Regal for some reconnaissance. It had been a week after King’s gala, so suspicions weren’t as heightened or tense with the attempted hit that struck down Danika. The objective was quickly completed; with Erik’s speed and Olivia’s charm, they’d successfully infiltrated the hotel and were able to maneuver past a few of King’s goons. They’d kept in contact with Morgan and the others at home base to let them know they were able to tag the transport set to move King and/or Dmitri out of the Regal and over to the hidden camp.

  There were gripes that if Charlie was there, they could have used his hearing for this instead of the hyper-sensitive microphones, but Danika chose to ignore any and all comments about him. She spent most of the evening trying to sort out her thoughts on Charlie and the twists and turns that came with him being a part of—and now apart from—the team.

  “That’s good work. Head on back.” Morgan commended them, taking his seat in the central station of command with Frost seated beside him.

  “What, that’s it?” Danika asked.

  “Easy peasy, right?” Morgan smirked at his niece and turned heel to make his way back into his office.

  Danika rolled her eyes as she stared at the screens Frost had been monitoring. “Yeah, sure.”

  “Don’t worry. We’re going to find them.” Sloane nudged her. He read her impatience quickly, and folded his arms as he planted himself beside her. “Who knows, maybe we’ll find ol’ lawyer boy.”

  “Here’s hoping.” She muttered, keeping her eyes on the trace, as it moved across the map. Danika had been worried about Charlie since he vanished from her place after Dmitri’s siege on her apartment. His disappearance following the cryptic vision King’s right hand had bestowed on her gave her the creeps, since she didn’t know what to make of it.

  After hours of tracking their tag, Frost gave them the coordinates for the facility. Everyone was geared up, ready to take on what would be waiting for them there, what they assumed would be a handful of Powered or other hired guns to protect the King.

  *

  Erik carefully landed their evac-copter just outside of the target area. King’s facility was in a rural part of Augusta near its city limits, which meant any damage could be contained without risk of hurting any bystanders. The team began unloading, but before anyone could celebrate their success, Callie suddenly let out a blood-curdling scream.

  “Morgan…what’s happening?” Danika asked, gesturing at Callie. “Cal? Callista!?”

  Callie’s pale hands vibrated as she frantically grasped at the sides of her head. She nearly crumpled to the floor, Sloane ran to catch her. He hooked his arms under hers for support, and walked her back over to the nearest seat in the copter. Her purple eyes were altered. The stunning violet fluxed, fading into all-black sclera as if ink had spilled into her eyes. Her eyelids were a bruised purple, contrasting against her ghostly white skin.

  “CALLIE!” Danika ran to help her, leaning in to check on her, but she instantly pushed her away.

  Danika searched those haunting orbs for something, anything as the psychic fell into a trance, her head falling limp. “Careful! Don’t shake her. Cal…Cal! Hey!” She placed her hand on her cheek to delve deeper but there was nothing. She’d become a husk, unable to hold herself up. Danika looked up at Morgan, but that moment was all it took for another shift, a change in the air.

  “Well, well, well.” The dual-toned voice of Callista’s mixed with a familiar baritone came through her lips. Callista’s neckbones crackled as she sat upright. Her black eyes glinted as she turned and looked to them, penetrating their souls with their haunting stare. “What do we have here?”

  Danika released Callista at once.

  “Dmitri.” Erik whispered, having solved the riddle that puzzled everyone in the unit. It was King’s telepath, breaking through Callie’s psychic mind to transmit King’s voice.

  “Shit.” Danika held tight to the Gale that burned in her hands as she circled their landing zone, and uttered, “What’s the range on this asshole? He’s gotta be close.”

  Sloane followed her, quickly waving his hand above his head. He fell to a knee and touched the ground beneath their feet, creating a thin sheen of black smoke around them. After a moment, he looked toward Danika and shook his head.

  Morgan knelt to be at eye-level with Callista. Even though he was several weight classes above the pixie-woman, Morgan felt it appropriate to keep a light grip on her forearms to ensure
his own safety. He wouldn’t hurt the girl, but he wasn’t taking any chances. “With all due respect, Mr. King. We’re investigating the case of the missing children here, and want to bring them back to their homes. Safely.”

  The laughter of King, even emitted through Callista, was chilling. “It’s good to see you again, Major. And after I invite you to my party, I see this is the thanks I get.”

  Danika wanted to punch a hole in something. The ground, a nearby tree, or dent the copter—but she held it inside. “Son of a bitch.”

  “As far as the children, and your little…operation going on, on my property no less? Heh—well, that can’t be all you want to do, Major. Thanks to the intel gathered by Mr. Dmitri—intel you stole from me, I’ve been made aware of your plans to retrieve my young assets. Now I’m sure you’ll find my men most accommodating to your stay, should you decide to proceed onto my property and not evacuate this instant.”

  Callie started to wriggle, her frail hands clawing and clenching, trying to grab onto someone or something. “H-Help me…please…” There were tears in her black eyes, trailing her dark mascara down her pale cheeks. “Dani… Morgan… h-help me! Please!”

  “Let go of her, you piece of shit!” Danika growled, as Callie whimpered again.

  The stench of sulfur wafted into the area, as red and black smoke wafted off of Sloane’s skin. Danika cast a glance toward him, and shook her head. There were enough monsters loose from their cages, she was already spread thin trying to contain this situation. He looked disappointed at her silent request, but he backed down.

  “With all due respect, Mr. King, we will not leave here until we retrieve those assets,” Morgan looked through Callista’s glassy onyx eyes as if it were a camera lens with Dmitri and King on the other end, peeking into the viewfinder.

  Callie threw her neck back as her handler laughed again. Her neck crackled as she snapped to center on Morgan once again, to address his threat. “Well, then. I hope the odds here are in your favor, Major. Until next time.”

  “Goddammit.” Danika finally turned and punched the open slab of metal near the door and without the Gale, her knuckles stung like a bitch.

  “Dan—”

  She blew past Morgan like a tornado and clipped on her belt that fixed her collapsible batons at her back, plus two blades she used as backup. At her hip, she holstered her issued standard 9mm pistol, that had come with the command to use it only as a last resort.

  “Wait a damn minute,” Morgan called out to her as he left Callie to the others.

  “Nope! I’m done waiting here. You got that psychopath diving into people’s minds, the kids are in the facility, and King’s goons are gonna be waiting for us, so what’s it gonna be in there? A PG rated slap on the wrist for those douchebags, or can we call it weapons free?” She was just itching for a good fight, the burning desire on a simmer as she struggled to hold back the ferocity of the Gale. “Sloane, let’s go. Koa, stay back and do what you can for her. Morgan—”

  “I’ll be calling from here, I have direct feed from Mr. Frost. Erik will do a quick sweep out here and we’ll rendezvous topside near the suite, at the helipad.” Morgan nodded and tipped the brim of the olive-green. He wore it on every outing, as if it were his lucky charm. “Alright everyone. You have your objective, and the parameters. Weapons free, but remember, priority is the children, keep them safe and don’t go firing at anything that moves. Clear the front, fan out and breach to clear the rest of the place per your path. Powered personnel at high priority takedown. Comms on and eyes up.”

  “Yes sir.” Sloane nodded, “You ready partner?”

  “Let’s go.” Danika replied with a nod of her own. They moved out, with Danika calling over her shoulder to Morgan, “See you on the other side.”

  *

  “Top floor clear, heading for the office. Over.”

  The vibrations were coming from the floor above; the sound travelling through the thick concrete and steel building came to him as a pleasant surprise. Danika’s voice… it meant she was close.

  Charlie rushed down the hall, holding fast to a sliver of hope that he’d run into her on his way. He couldn’t seek her out, not now, because he needed to get the hell out of here, and as far away as possible. For who knows how long, he’d been a prisoner here, trapped and isolated in a cage. Charlie had discovered that he’d pawned powers from Danika, of the Gale, but they had since diminished over time being in captivity, before he’d gotten a chance to turn that skill against his captors. It shouldn’t have been a surprise he was able to use Danika’s power after being so close to her. He remembered gaining Erik’s speed back at Level Two, but only briefly, and he had to keep it all tucked away, or he was sure Morgan would have sent him to Walter. Then again, being subjected to testing with the mad scientist might have been a cakewalk compared to what he’d seen within these walls.

  Just a pawn…

  Dmitri kept saying that to him: “You’re just a pawn…”

  Light conditioning. Heavy brainwashing. It was simply torture listening to that man’s flat tone. Growing up in therapy, Charlie was familiar with the flat-line approach, a steady pitch to keep everything relaxed and neutral, to garner the client’s focus. However, nothing about Christophe Dmitri’s approach was meant to keep things comfortable and relaxed. His methods ground on Charlie’s cognizance, whittled it down until madness was imminent, and it unlocked what he could only describe as the counter to sensory deprivation—which was pain beyond anything he’d felt before. Instead of shutting everything out, it opened every door, every alleyway, every tender nerve in the chasm of his vulnerable mind.

  Charlie could hear and smell everything. The light brush of a feather felt like the sharpened tip of a stiletto ripping open his flesh, cauterizing as it did. He wore headphones to keep the noise away, a blindfold to stop his eyes from zooming in to the smallest crack in the walls and ceiling to see the finite details of dust mites and other details otherwise missed by the naked, human eye. Though Charlie fought it tooth and nail, the canvas of the straightjacket he’d been bound into kept even the wind from grating on his stinging skin, however rough material felt like he was wrapped with sandpaper.

  The worst part, was the emotional burden. What was that, then? The flickers of fear, admiration, sexual stimulus…that was all brand new. Where had it been coming from? The others? Was he sensing other’s intentions, if those were not his own? That was going to be hell down the line…

  As he walked down the hallway he came to a piece of abstract artwork bolted into the wall, fragments of mirrors in a mosaic, creating shapes that would be left to interpretation. He caught sight of himself in one of the pieces, and finally saw what he’d looked like now: a disheveled man in dark clothing, dark blue prisoner garb, running barefoot through a reconditioning camp to make his escape. Charlie scoffed as he looked closely at his face. What did they do to him? He hardly recognized himself; pale skin, dark bruising at his temples where they’d prodded him, a split lip from where they’d assaulted him, circles under his sleepless eyes. They’d be gone within the hour, he knew it, as his passive ability allowed him to heal faster than medicine from either hemisphere could rush along. But who was the man staring back at him in the mirror? He placed his palm on his cheek and searched his own eyes for the answers.

  No matter how many times he asked his captors why they wanted him, they didn’t answer. It was obvious that it was because he was King’s heir, the prince to the empire, the bearer of such an intriguing ability, and the key to his father’s legacy. He knew they would never welcome him, a bastard, with open arms, but he also feared what they would do with him from here. Continue torturing him, pick him apart until he was rendered to bone? Or would he be able to meet his father face-to-face, to ask him why he was doing this to him and to the city?

  Just a pawn… he thought again. He’d been able to use the powers of the Gale, run as fast as a Bullet, and so when he was able to throw fire before, that was from… Carter?
<
br />   He needed to keep moving. Charlie continued down the hall and up several flights of stairs stealthily winding higher through the facility, and came to a tee in the path. “Swimming Pool & Courtyard”, the sign said, with an arrow leading down the hallway to his right. After turning down narrow corridors and sliding past some of the patrols in the area, Charlie hoped that the patio attached to the rooftop pool would offer an exit, maybe a fire escape if he was lucky enough.

  The place appeared to be abandoned. From what he could hear earlier, the victims they were trying to recondition had been wrangled into their cells and kept on another level. As he desperately moved away from that area, he hoped Danika and the team would find them.

  Charlie ran to the door that led to the glass enclosed pool and headed toward the courtyard overlooking the yards. He could see through the windows that resided between him and freedom. The scene was like an artist’s dream, tiny puffs of clouds on a blue sky, hanging above a velvety landscape of bold green hills and a backdrop of healthy forestry behind it. His heart was beating in excitement, so loudly that he almost missed the sound of footsteps entering the room.

  “It’s been a long time, Charles.” A voice called out from behind him.

  He closed his fists at his sides, taking a deep breath of the air, realizing who had come to put a barricade between him and his freedom. Charlie looked over at the woman. It was Tabitha.

  She wasn’t in her normal skirt and blouse covered in a trench coat this time. She wore a form-fitting latex and leather suit, accentuating every single curve of her near-perfect form. Her boots tapped along the floor lightly, with each step she took that brought her closer to him.