Lark stopped twiddling her collapsed staff and sheathed it. In the rear view mirror, I could see Berenice and Abby exchange a meaningful glance. Abby’s eyes glinted ominously, momentarily changing from blue-gray to a feline gold. Berenice’s biceps seemed to flex visibly beneath her shirt.
Next to me, Reid placed a hand on my shoulder and nodded curtly, his jaw set. For once, he didn’t look haunted by his recent tragedies. His lips moved: “I’m with you.” He glanced at Ember, his face falling, but then looked away. His face smoothed over.
When Marco had parked the van in a shaded corner of the lot, I opened the van’s door and looked around. We were by a playground where I’d played with my childhood best friend Jake countless times. His house was just down the road, though he was currently at MIT. We’d once pretended to be jungle explorers in the nearby woods, and the remarkable discovery we’d made one hot summer day was about to have consequences I couldn’t have predicted.
I gestured in a circle above my head, and my team obeyed the order, forming a circle with all eyes on me. I put a finger to my lips and they nodded.
Ember held out her hand, which I took. I’ll relay all orders, if you want.
I’d never been so grateful to know a telepath. Yes, please. We’re going through the trees to the bridge.
Ember must have repeated my message, because they all fell into a single file behind me, Reid taking up the rear.
Right before we entered the tree line, the moon slipped behind a heavy cloud bank, robbing us of nearly all light. I slowed, squinting at the snowy path, trying to make out the white ribbon from the ground around it. Jillian wouldn’t have had any problems, but the rest of us floundered.
A large tiger crept past me. When she was a few feet ahead, she turned back and stared at me. Apparently all but one of us were floundering.
Abby kindly guided us through the woods, lifting her paw periodically and tapping on branches, roots, and anything that would make noise underfoot. True affection stirred in me, and I caught myself thinking that I was glad I’d never faced her in battle before. She deserved better.
The fresh scent of water was the first indication that we were near our destination. If my hearing had been at normal levels, I would have strained to hear the lapping of small waves on the shore, or perhaps a buoy’s bell in one of the distant shipping lanes. Maybe even a fog horn that carried over from the nearby Chesapeake Bay.
Instead, in my deafness I relied on the stinging breeze that blew unceasingly from the river, and the briny scent it carried. I didn’t feel the cold anymore, just the strange calm before every fight. I’d more than moved forward. I’d moved to the finish line.
Inside me, a dark version of myself grinned, desperate for blood.
The trees thinned and we popped out onto a beach, still in near-complete darkness. The ghostly light from behind the cloud was a little more apparent now that we were under nothing but the sky.
To my surprise, I saw moonlight reflected on the water. We wouldn’t be able to cross on ice, and I couldn’t see well enough to find a boat at the eleventh hour.
But I’d prepared for this.
I beckoned for my team to follow me along the final step of the journey, and the startling discovery Jake and I had made all those years ago. Straggling trees gave way to scrubby bushes, which petered out into nothing but sand as we approached a splintery wooden bridge. Across the bridge lay a sandbar, only ten feet wide or so. Two huge breakwaters flanked the sandbar, guarding it from the valid threat of hurricanes that occasionally struck Maryland. I’d been so shocked as a child to discover this little finger of land, but more so by what I could see from it.
At the edge of the sandbar, I knelt and stared directly ahead at tiny pinpricks on a far hill. The moon would have to come out sometime, and when it did, the rest of our path would reveal itself. I didn’t trust my memories of this vantage point, and no matter how much I wanted to charge ahead, I would not risk ruining everything when we’d come so far.
Ember knelt at my right, Marco at my left. The rest of them lined up, low and tight, on both sides. Ember placed her hand in mine. Jill is unconscious. There are two more unconscious people in the house, but without knowing them personally, I can’t tell who.
My heart sped up. Is she sleeping, or…?
She squeezed my hand. I don’t know, but since it’s almost zero one, let’s be optimistic and assume she’s just sleeping.
God bless you.
Marco tapped my shoulder, then looked at Ember. Ember nodded. He wants to know what we’re waiting for.
The breeze answered for me. The full moon slid out from behind a cloud, casting the night into silvery relief. I stood up and let out a long breath, never taking my eyes off the hill across the water. I needed to give myself more credit—it was exactly where I remembered it.
Across the water, the Trent mansion towered over everything like a fortress in a macabre fairy tale. Its white stone and brick reflected the moonlight, making it appear larger than life in the witching hour, which itself was unnaturally dark because of our activities at the substation. The tiny pinpricks I’d seen were outdoor lights, powered by the generators I could not hear.
I’d been so happy to discover that I had a “private beach” so close to my house. The trees lining our property had hidden it from my family.
The rest of the team stood and gaped. I caught Reid’s eye and pointed to the breakwaters. He smiled and gestured for the rest of us to lie down on the sandbar. His eyes lit up, as bright as the moon.
Boulder after boulder broke free from the water and gently splashed down in the water, slowly forming a rocky path uniting the sandbar and the far beach. After a minute of directing rocks, he gestured for us to stand up. They looked at me expectantly.
I started to walk.
Item Fifteen
Partial transcription of an eyewitness account of the events of April 3, 1918, in a Central Powers POW camp located in northern France.
Soldier:
We were all at our jobs in the factory, sewing on patches and things like that. Suddenly there was this…explosion? It was like a meteor hitting the earth.
The guards started yelling about “ein frau,” and I could hear a woman screaming, “Edward! Edward! Where’s my son?!” And then my friend Ed St. James dropped his work and ran to the window and shouted, “Mama!” I ran to him. I thought he was hallucinating.
Interviewer:
What did you see?
Soldier:
[silence for several seconds] I saw a woman levitating through the air as three machine guns fired at her. The bullets were bouncing off her, and the grenade someone threw just…did nothing.
Interviewer:
And then?
Soldier:
Edward turned around and said, “We just won the war, boys.” And then he burst into flames but he didn’t burn. He was made of fire.
15
I’d never walked so carefully in my life.
I tested each step as we disappeared into the cover of the trees, gingerly feeling for branches and underbrush that might betray our presence to anyone who would be listening. And why wouldn’t they be listening? Whoever was in the house with Jillian had to know that her champions were on the move. They might be asleep, but they’d have some kind of defense mounted.
For the hundredth time, I tried to theorize who the sleeping inhabitants were, and more importantly, why they were sleeping. The second question was the stumper, because it wasn’t protocol for any of our “guests” to sleep during interrogations. Mom and Dad would question them for an entire working day, and then Beau, Alysia, and Will would have their fun while my parents rested.
Even with Dad’s death, I couldn’t see why that model would change. Beau and Will preferred the little video business, leaving Alysia to fill in for my father. Mom probably liked that. Alysia and Mom had always been close.
Eleanor, though never in open rebellion against my parents, had always made it clear that
she preferred to help my family’s business in other ways. Her money-making skills and willingness to commit other crimes prevented my parents from expressing unhappiness with her as a daughter, but I knew Mom wished her one daughter would help her in the basement. Alysia probably filled a void.
So who was in the house? And why were they sleeping?
If the four were operating in shifts as usual, then it was probably either my mother and Alysia, or Beau and Will. Neither pair was an ideal opponent. My mother could disintegrate heads, Alysia could run through walls and disappear into the night, Beau could crush one’s skull with a single punch, and Will could manipulate dead animal flesh. Though I didn’t see or smell any dead animals around, I wouldn’t put it past him to have a decaying dog or something on hand.
Around me, my teammates slowly crept forward, each lingering behind a tree for a few seconds before advancing to another one. Abby, still in her tiger form, led the way.
When I was flush against a large, spicy-smelling conifer, I became aware of a low sound, a persistent rumble in my ears. I smiled. My hearing was improving steadily if I could hear a sound as unbroken as the generators. We were only yards from them, but they sounded as if they were on the other side of my huge backyard. Still, it was progress. And if they were that loud, then the sound of our presence was surely obscured.
Ember’s presence brushed my mind. Jill is still sleeping. I’m almost positive it’s natural sleep. She’s dreaming.
What is she dreaming about? I hoped they were happy dreams.
I somehow felt her smile. Thanks to me, she’s dreaming about dancing in her bedroom to that dumb pop music she likes so much. Ah, now you’re there….and I’m getting out of her head. Sheesh, you two. What are you, newlyweds?
I closed my eyes, a lump in my throat. My wife was there. She was real, almost close enough to hold in my arms. She was safe for the moment, enjoying her reprieve from horror and pain. For all of the effort I’d spent on saving her, I didn’t want to disturb her.
The moon went behind a cloud again. Reid dashed over to me and leaned close to my ear. “Marco is almost out of power. I’m going to destroy them.”
I leaned around and waved to Marco. He waved back, then pointed to Ember. Ember nodded and turned to me. Marco wants you to know that he, and I quote, totally owned the substation blast and was able to save some power. He’s going to… She trailed off for a second. …save what he has left for the fight inside.
Icy pain encrusted my heart. She needn’t have been so tactful.
It didn’t take a genius to work out that he’d been desperate to save any shred of power he could for the sole purpose of killing my mother with it. He’d been crushed at the substation when he realized that it apparently was a choice between blowing up the substation or personally getting revenge for his sisters. Now that he had a second chance, he was happily giving the rest of the glory to Reid.
I swallowed and focused on the image of Jillian dancing. Ember, tell everyone to get on their mark and close their eyes so they can adjust to darkness. When Reid destroys the generators, we are going to run as fast as we can into the house. Reid will break down the back door. Attack anyone who isn’t Jillian. Take no prisoners.
Jillian wasn’t at risk of friendly fire. She was in the basement and probably would sleep through the storming of the house.
I relished the idea of her waking up to me.
Reid stepped forward and walked towards the generators. They were barely visible now, just huge rectangular boxes beyond some trees. Their gunmetal gray sides melted in with the gloom almost perfectly. When they were offline, the yard would be even darker.
Reid says get down. There’s going to be some quaking.
We all hit the ground and covered our heads, but at the last second I risked watching out of curiosity. Would the earth swallow them whole?
In the blink of an eye, the ground trembled and spikes as long as school buses thrust up from the earth beneath the generators, impaling them like bits of food on fork tines. There was no process to take in. One second they were working, and then they were hoisted into the air, dead and—I grinned to realize it—silent.
“Now!” I heard my shout almost like normal and cursed. I could’ve just given away our presence.
“N0!”
Ember’s scream made me tumble over.
Nobody move!
To hell with Ember. I jumped up and sucked in a breath, ready to sprint.
If we go in now, Jill’s dead. Trust me!
The moon had come out, allowing me to see everyone’s confused faces. Ember walked toward the house a few paces, then held up a hand. “Just a little bit longer,” she pleaded. “You’ll see what I mean in a minute.”
It occurred to me that she was speaking loud enough for me to hear her, so she must’ve been raising her voice to near-yelling. Why was she not concerned that we’d be heard?
The entire universe held its breath with me.
After an eternity, she lowered her hand and turned to face me, a beautiful peace overtaking her features. “Now.”
I didn’t take in my surroundings as I ran, just the back door that was the last true impediment between myself and my wife. It was nearer, nearer…
A large stone flew ahead of me, crashing through the doorknob and unlocking the door.
I bounded up the snowy steps of the back deck two at a time and slammed through the door, shoving it aside with such force that little panes of glass shattered upon impact with the kitchen counter to the right. I heard the crash and gentle tinkling of glass. Whoever was in the house would’ve heard it, too, no matter how deeply asleep they were.
The rest flooded in behind me, weapons and hands up. Abby leaped over the broken glass and up onto the kitchen table, four-inch fangs bared. Her claws gouged deep marks in the shining wood.
“Find them. Kill them,” I ordered, immediately taken aback by my tone. But I didn’t wait for a response. I jumped over the island and turned down the long hallway of guest bedrooms that led to the basement access, baton extended. But I wouldn’t need it. I could slam someone into a wall so hard that they’d—
I stopped, my eyes on the figure at the end of the hall.
Jillian stood by the basement door, clad in a pink silk bathrobe and staring straight at me.
Item Sixteen
Headline of the Richmond Times-Dispatch, June 1, 1920
MORE PEOPLE SHOWING THEIR POWERS
How many are there? American people amazed and curious!
16
I had no memory of running to her.
One second, I was at the far end of the hall, and then my arms were wrapping around her, my nose in the crook of her neck, my hands stroking her matted hair.
There was no swell of romance that forced us to kiss, no anguished declarations of love. All was silent as the invisible gold dust of my power tumbled out of my fingers and into her flesh, causing her to shake—but from relief or despair, I couldn’t tell.
She was there. She was with me. She was real.
Jillian broke away from me and stared at my face, her bloodstained fingers grazing my skin. She traced my jaw and lips, her eyes never ceasing to study my features. As her fingers passed under my nose, the lingering smell of blood and something vaguely fishy burned my nostrils, but I didn’t stop her. The smell meant she was there.
The last of her bruises were just disappearing, leaving behind bloodstains and minor wear and tear that was visible even in the moonlight shining through the large bay windows lining the hallway. I could even see a fine misted spray of blood on her face.
She clasped my face in both of her hands, still visibly shocked by my presence. “You’re…you’re here,” she said, disbelieving. Her lips trembled, and then fat tears began to roll down her cheeks. “How did you know I was here?” Her eyes widened. “He said he wouldn’t show you the tapes until I was dead.” Her breaths began to come in quick bursts and she stumbled backwards into the wall. “Oh my God. He lied. You s
aw them. I…I…”
I couldn’t tell whether she was speaking quietly or if my hearing was muting her voice. I gathered her into my arms again. “Graham was still alive when we returned home,” I said, stroking her back. “Ember showed us everything. We left right away. We would’ve come faster but there were some obstacles we couldn’t avoid.”
There was no need to say the words “strike team” just yet.
“I thought I was going to die here,” she moaned. “I thought…I thought…”
“You thought wrong,” I whispered.
She began to sob in earnest at the same moment that I noticed movement far to my right.
The rest of the team were all standing quietly at the far end of the hall, their faces colored by various shades of concern. Marco held up a large red fleece blanket from who-knew-where, and I remembered that Jillian was not just barely dressed, but shivering uncontrollably while she cried.
“You guys can come here,” I said, grateful for their polite distance.
Marco ran the fastest. When he was at Jillian’s side, he pulled her from me and swept her up into a hug, shushing her tears and throwing the blanket around her shoulders. Jillian pulled the blanket tightly around herself and sniffled, failing to really smile.
Her eyes contained more than grief. There was a vacant horror in them that frightened me. I’d seen it in the eyes of the people I’d killed after endless days or weeks of torture. I couldn’t blame them; any time they’d seen me before, my touch had meant the whole process starting over.
I moved to the side to let the other emotional reunions begin. Jillian let Ember and Reid gather her into a group hug, shuddering once when Ember touched her face.
“Not now,” she moaned. “Later, please. Later.” Ember nodded and kissed her cheek.
Mercury Page 16
