No Peace for the Damned (21 page)

But once her desk was in order, she simply strolled out into the hallway. My whole body relaxed when she was gone.

I looked at the closed door.
OK, you can do this
. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and centered myself. The weight of his power breathed against my skin. His barrier was like cement around his thoughts. Rough, solid. I had barely brushed up against it when something pulled my concentration away.

Warmth spread though me, settling the knot in my stomach. A few blocks away, Theo was thinking of me. After days of being intentionally preoccupied, he finally let down his guard. He felt helpless, angry, like it should be him standing outside Uncle Max’s office instead of me. Thirteen should never have put me at risk like this. Never.

My body tingled. The lingering panic inside me calmed. A soothing confidence took its place. I might have Kelch blood pulsing through me, but I could still help the people around me. And today…I would do exactly that.

I pushed off from the wall and stood just to the side of Uncle Max’s door. He was at his desk again, fingers flying at the keyboard. I took another deep breath, closed my eyes, and pushed.

Whoa
. That was one powerful wall. I pushed out a little harder. The typing stopped.

My heart pounded.
Now or never
. I concentrated my power until my body shook. The wall in his mind shimmered, turning from cement to Jell-O. I was in. My gag reflex went into overdrive—the sheer sadism, the uninhibited evil. Blood, pain, joy,
all mixed in together. The barrier tightened, tried to solidify once more. My power wouldn’t let it. Then suddenly…the barrier pushed back.

My own mental walls slammed into place. His power scraped over my skin and mind. Thick, like an icy syrup. Cold enough to bite. I shivered. His power pulled back.

I let out a shaky breath.
See, you can do this
.

The next instant, I was off my feet, flying backward into the wall behind me. My muscles spasmed in pain as my head exploded. I slid down the wall and landed in a heap on the floor. I tried to catch my breath but the pain kept coming. Excruciating. I ground my teeth together to stop from crying out. The pulsing power surrounding Uncle Max’s office had turned to twisting pierces everywhere it touched me. My flesh, my mind. Red hues tinted the room as my consciousness started to slip.

There was a wailing. Like a siren inside my head. Blaring, echoing all around me. The floor trembled beneath me. Passing out meant dropping my invisible mask. I
had
to stay conscious.

But there was so much pain. And I’d been away too long.

There was movement. My eyes couldn’t focus. The wailing got louder. I felt Uncle Max’s presence as he entered the room.
Oh my God—he’s right there!
My body violently cramped as another surge of power lashed out through the room.

Just stay conscious. Just stay conscious
.

He was right in front of me. I shut my eyes tight. The pain fought to pull me under. I was going to lose it.

From some great distance I heard Uncle Max’s terrifying voice call out over the blare, “Not yet! Not yet!
Who the hell is in here?
”

For a horrific instant I saw his mind clearly. Then all went black.

Just as pain had pulled me under, pain brought me back. A dull pressure softly pulsed at the back of my head. Annoying at first, like a headache after the Tylenol wore off. But it quickly sharpened, became piercing. Before I knew it, my entire head was swallowed by fierce, painful throbs—a direct hit to my mental powers. I couldn’t even tell if I was invisible anymore. My telepathy swirled out of control.

Oh God, please don’t let this happen!

There were at least two people in the room with me, maybe more. Fear, confusion, anger—every foreign thought bored into my mind like metal spikes. I tried to breathe, to settle my muscles. I
had
to regain control. Warm tears leaked from my eyes.

On the edge of my mind I saw it. An escape. Empty and gray, a cloud of nothingness crept on the fringes of my thoughts. So dull in its appearance, yet so brilliant in its appeal.

This
was the madness that had taken root in Uncle Mallroy’s mind—the emptiness that I feared more than anything.

God, no
. It had appeared in my mind only once before. The memory of it sent me into tremors. I had thought I could conquer the madness, use it as a temporary escape when my family was being especially cruel.

I had been wrong.

The madness was
too
empty, like turning off reality and personal control altogether. Giving in would be losing myself as well as my consciousness. Defending myself would be impossible. I’d be completely unaware of how my powers were used. I couldn’t let it take me or I might never find a way back.

My tears turned to sobs. The gray fog pressed further, deeper into my mind. Fear slowly overwhelmed the pain. But even worse than the fear was knowing that somewhere deep inside me, where I would never admit it out loud, there was a piece of me that had always
wanted
the madness to take over. Insanity would be a freedom—an excuse not to care about my family or their evil or the consequences of my powers.

There was movement around me. My body tensed as another shot of someone else’s worry drilled into my mind. A comforting burn touched my lips. I swallowed instinctively and the burn slid down my throat. I gulped it again and again until there was nothing left. The gray fog slipped away.

Aah. So much better
. I took several deep breaths and just savored the feel of my own control. Slowly I pried open my eyes. The images blurred together. I blinked the room into focus. Thirteen stared down at me. His eyes were bloodshot and his face pale. His voice was raw as he whispered, “Magnolia? Can you hear me?”

I lay on my bed at the farmhouse. The sheerness of my yellow curtains made the evening light glow more white than gold,
brightening the room more than it would have otherwise. Thirteen had pulled a chair from the kitchen to sit beside my bed. His face was tight.

Where was Theo?

I started trembling. Couldn’t breathe, terrified of what had happened to him.

Thirteen sat straighter, scooted his chair closer. That’s when I saw him. Leaning with his back against the doorframe. A bottle of whisky dangled from his hand. My tremors calmed instantly.
Theo. Still beautiful. Still perfect
. The ache in my chest rejoiced. Any lingering pain flew right out of me.

“Are you OK?” he asked. He spoke as if we were the only two people in the room. Maybe in the world.

“Yeah,” I said softly, “I’m good.” He stepped toward the bed and my body automatically shifted toward him.

A strange noise escaped Thirteen, freezing me in place.
Oh, right, Thirteen’s still here
. His head hung forward, his eyes closed.

“Thirteen?”

His huge shoulders lifted in a trembling sigh. “I thought you were dead again,” he said in a strangled voice. “I prayed you’d come back, that you’d heal like before, but you didn’t even have a pulse. Not at first.” He shuddered and covered his face.

“I tried to stay conscious, stay invisible. But Uncle Max’s power was blaring—it was everywhere. And then he came into the room. He came over to where I was knocked backward and…” My heart raced again. Sweat beaded on my forehead. My fingers curled into the sheet. I should have been too spent to muster real panic. But the thought of Uncle Max looming over me, his face contorted in such a familiar rage—it was too terrifying. Thirteen drew a ragged breath. Theo reached out and touched my ankle under the sheet. Instantly my fists relaxed.

“How did you get to me?” I finally managed.

“Your panic button set off the Homeland Security alarms,” Thirteen said after clearing his throat. “That was the blaring you heard. Security was immediately sent in to retrieve all the congressional officers. There was a stampede of government employees exiting the building. Jon and Theo were able to slip in after the security guards pulled Maxwell from the room. You were still invisible when they found you.”

Still invisible? So passing out
hadn’t
revealed my cover. Then what
had
made me visible again?

“I found you,” Theo said quietly, as if reading my thoughts.

“How? If I was still invisible?” God, my voice was scratchy.

“I just…
knew
. I knew where you were.”

He stood beside the bed now, his hand still resting on my ankle. Instinctively my hand lifted. My fingertips itched to feel the solidness of his arms, his face, his body. Thirteen shifted beside me. I blinked and dropped my hand.

My mouth opened and closed a few times but my throat was too dry now to make words. I wanted more details, but for once I thought I needed something other than whisky.

“Your camouflage dissipated when Theo, well, when he touched you,” Thirteen said, eyeing me closely. I looked back at Theo. For once he didn’t look confused or like he was searching for some explanation. He looked possessive. A raw hunger darkened his eyes. My insides somersaulted at the look. Not because it worried me or had me questioning again our growing bond. But because it felt right. He should be possessive. I belonged to him.

I shook my head and forced myself to focus. “I—I didn’t push the panic button,” I said.

“When Jon and Theo found you, the key fob was so deep in your palm the button was still being pressed.” Thirteen relaxed a little then and reached out to touch my forearm. “Magnolia, what happened?”

I closed my eyes for a minute. “Uncle Max sensed I was there and sent out a mental shock wave.”

Thirteen’s eyes went wide. All the color left his face. “He sensed you?”

“He sensed
a supernatural presence
,” I corrected myself quickly. “He didn’t know it was me.”

My throat was in flames now. But before I could ask for a drink, Theo was there, a full glass of water in his hand. His fingers brushed with mine as I took the glass, and I gasped.
Oh God
. It was just like in the kitchen all those weeks ago—that brushed contact so much more than a firm touch. I could see it so clearly I stopped breathing. Theo, holding me, his calloused hands running up and down my arms as I pressed into his bare chest. My body sliding perfectly into place along the length of his. “Mag…” his lips had moved against my cheek as he breathed into my ear.

“Mag?” he said again, louder this time. I opened my eyes. Theo now sat at the foot of the bed, his hand moving slowly up my calf. He leaned toward me, his breathing as heavy as mine. That possessive look was more than just a dark gleam in his eye now. His shoulders were set, his jaw flexed. His lips parted.

“Ahem,” Thirteen cleared his throat. A shiver swept up my spine, bringing me back and reddening my cheeks. Theo blinked rapidly, shifting his body away from me. But his hand remained on my leg, the contact still there.

“The important question is,” Thirteen said, shooting pointed glances at each of us, “why did Maxwell leave with the security guards? Why didn’t he just mind-manipulate the guards so he could stay behind and find out who was in his office?”

I took a long sip of water.
Just stay focused
. But his hand was so warm. So strong against my leg. I closed my eyes tight.

“If security was making all the senators leave the building, there would have been questions,” I said quickly. “People would
have reported his absence and, as powerful as Uncle Max is, he can’t keep track of every single person in the building at one time. And if the media were there, it would have already been on TV that he was still inside. He and Father rely too much on their public images to risk something like that.”

I gulped more water then shrugged. “Or, hell, maybe he was just so thrown by the idea of someone actually trying to break into his thoughts that it didn’t even occur to him to mess with security’s minds.”

Theo’s fingers traced circles on my calf. “Yeah, I can see how you’d throw someone off like that,” he murmured, his voice rough.
Oh. My. God
. To just be alone right now, curled up beside Theo. The trace of his fingers—I felt it everywhere. So much more than just a touch sliding along my leg.

From the doorway behind Theo, Jon stepped into the room. I jumped. How long had he been there? I hadn’t even noticed his arrival.
Shit
. That wasn’t good. I should have felt his presence in the house. When he glanced my way, accusations were all over his face.

“We still have some questions,” Jon announced. Theo frowned and pulled his hand from me. His thoughts were jumbled again. He got to his feet and stepped away from the bed as Jon walked into the room.

“We still don’t know what Senator Kelch’s intentions are against the Network. We need—”

“Yes, we do,” I interrupted before Jon’s rant could really get going. “Uncle Max has no intentions.”

Jon and Theo both gaped. “What?”

“I
saw
into his head, just before everything went black. Policies and politics, and even some very not-nice things that might be happening soon.” I turned to Thirteen. “The Network needs to up its protection on Senator Claussen, but we can talk about
that later.” I turned back to Jon. “But there was nothing, absolutely nothing, about the Network. Nothing about recent tortures or atomic weapons; nothing about
l’annuaire
. Nothing. Maxwell isn’t behind the attacks. He doesn’t even know about them.”