Read No Peace for the Damned Online

Authors: Megan Powell

No Peace for the Damned (27 page)

The hostages gasped. Thirteen stepped in front of me, blocking me from the door.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m getting you out of here,” I said. “Hopefully without any of my family realizing I still exist.”

I reached around him to open the door. The handle slipped from my grip. Banks’s blood coated my fingers—normal fingers now. I hadn’t even felt them shift back. Thirteen moved in front of me again. His legs shook under his weight. Bullets bounced around the room. Several cut into the partition in front of us. We needed to get out of here. Now.

The intensity of Thirteen’s frown made me pause. Blood seeped into the creases of his skin. The endearing crinkles were now hard and frightening lines.

“I will not leave my men, Magnolia,” he said. “If you wish to save yourself from exposure, no one will stop you. But I will not leave without all my people with me.”

My chest clenched. He wasn’t really choosing the others over me. But it sure as hell felt that way.

“But I came for
you
! To get you out of here. I can’t leave you here.”

His gaze softened. “Then stay. And help me fight.”

One of the hostages shifted, his body bruised and broken. Thirteen knelt at his side.

“But I’m just another Kelch to them,” I whispered. A sob choked in my throat. A bullet embedded itself in the wall next to my head. The two conscious hostages gasped. I didn’t move. Slowly Thirteen rose and rested his hands on my shoulders.

“I promised you that your family would never hurt you again. But I can’t protect you from the hurt you may receive from others. You need to decide how many of these new experiences you can handle. But for right now,” he dropped his hands and stepped back, “I have a fight to join.”

He turned and vanished around the partition.

“Motherfuckinggoddamnpieceofshit!”

The cries and blasts of the fight drowned out my tantrum. The two hostages looked up at me with wide, swollen eyes. The one with Jon’s gun adjusted his grip. Now what was I supposed to do?

I rubbed both hands over my face.
Fuck!
Finally, I took a deep breath and listened. Theo and Shane were still on their feet, fighting the one remaining guard. Relief flooded me, but only for a moment. Then I focused again. All the other guards were dead. Jon engaged Markus at the far end of the barn. And damn it all, Thirteen had just joined Jon in his fight.

Fucking idiots!
What part of just-grab-the-hostages-and-run-like-hell didn’t they understand?

Markus fought with his telekinesis and his strength. But he wasn’t at full power. I couldn’t make out why. Was he wounded?
That didn’t make sense. His maniacal laugh cut through the room, taunting his two opponents. If he were injured, he would simply kill the humans responsible then skulk away to nurse his wounds.

“Fine!” I yelled at the two men at my feet. They both jumped again.

God, just let Thirteen survive
.

I turned the corner of the partition and froze.

Along the far wall, Theo and Shane had used up their ammo. They fought a massive, drug-controlled guard with knives. All three men were bloody and worn. The guard’s head was shaved bald; his muscles bulged. I didn’t recognize him, but he fought well, obviously experienced.

Shane crouched to pounce at the man’s back. He leaped into the air, his knife ready to kill. But midflight he turned, faced the other direction, and slashed at empty air, fighting another opponent who wasn’t really there—an illusion. Theo took on the guard alone.

Near the barn’s garage door, Jon gripped a two-by-four with both hands. Blood poured from a gunshot wound in his shoulder. But his fight remained fierce. Unfortunately, he too had been distracted by something that wasn’t really there. And Thirteen was moving in to help him.

A demented bark of laughter rang out. Markus stood on top of a tarp-covered heap, his eyes wild. My heart stopped.

Markus, my handsome and fearful brother, was now a hideous skeleton of his former self. His skin was tight over bones and lean muscles. A deep purple scar cut diagonally across his face. The puckered flesh left a cleft in his lips and sliced one eye in half, the white, milky eyeball on full display. His thick waves of dark hair were cut short, buzzed above the ear to show grated flesh. The rough flesh spread down the side of his neck and under his shirt collar.

My God, what happened to him?

Shane screamed and fell on his back, still holding off his imaginary assailant.

OK, enough of this
.

I stepped into the openness of the barn. Instantly Markus’s illusions vanished. Jon and Shane both stumbled. Theo spun on the guard’s back, slicing the giant’s throat with a swing of his blade. The guard’s bald head fell back, gleaming brightly as a flash of lightning illuminated the room.

Markus frowned, his scars pulling taut.

“Markus!” I called out.

He spotted me from across the room. Astonishment, confusion, disbelief—Markus’s mind was total chaos. Good. Let him stay confused until I got the others to safety.

“You’re dead,” he said, matter-of-factly. “We checked. Several times, for days, we checked.”

“Yeah, guess it takes a little longer to heal a beheading.” I moved forward cautiously.

Slowly, his thoughts became more defined. Angrier. I could feel his powers gaining strength. Markus narrowed his eyes on me, and the intensity stopped me in my tracks. A tinkling sounded to my left. A rumble to my right. Suddenly, every piece of farm
equipment and the tools scattered around the barn launched at me at breakneck speed. Someone shouted my name.

The tools and instruments halted midair. With a clamor, they fell to the ground several feet away from me. I cocked an eyebrow.

“Seriously?” I asked.
Had his scars left him stupid as well as ugly?
“What happened to you, Markus?”

“What happened to me?” he asked; his power chilled the room. Thunder crashed outside.
“What happened to me?”

“Yes, Markus,” I said dully, “what happened to you?”

“What do you
think
happened to me?” he shouted. Spittle flew from his mouth. “The Kelch power must be harnessed. They needed to strengthen their energies, practice their skills.” His good eye dilated to blackness. “I told them it was me! I told them
I
was the one who killed you, but they didn’t believe me. They believed
Malcolm
.”

His anger peaked at the mention of our other brother.


He
was the one they accepted.
He
was the one they let stay in the main house. I was left with nothing. Nothing! Cast aside to be nothing more than their plaything.”

His body shook. He opened and closed his mouth. Sounds escaped but no words formed.

“You took my place,” I said finally. “For their frustrations and their experiments—but you can’t heal yourself, can you, Markus? You couldn’t take it the way I could.”

“You fucking bitch!” he screamed. Boards, nails, dropped weapons all flew at me again. Again they fell short by several feet. “Why couldn’t you just stay dead like the other one?”

I paused.
What?
“What the hell are you talking about? What other one?”

“The other one! The one they killed when they should have killed you.”

Markus vibrated with rage. His thoughts slowly became clear.


High ceilings and dark wood furniture decorated the master suite. In the center of the room, writhing on a beautiful canopied bed, Mother screamed
.

A young Markus cringed and huddled closer to Malcolm’s back. The doctor hunched over the bed as the guards held Mother down. Malcolm looked down at Markus in disgust. Then he turned to face Father, standing beside the bed, dressed in his finest business suit. Guards flanked him at both sides
.

After a moment, the doctor rose, a bloodied bundle in his arms. Father cradled the small baby in his hands. His face lit up with a joy the boys had never seen before. Malcolm’s steady stance faltered. Markus cringed again
.

With dark curls and vibrant eyes, the child radiated with light. But the pride on Father’s face shifted. He frowned in confusion. Then in anger. Then fear
.

Both boys turned to the bed as Father placed the radiant child back into Mother’s arms. With thoughtful strides, he crossed the room. At the door, he paused. Sighed
.

“Kill them both,” he ordered quietly. Then he strolled from the room, shutting the door behind him
.

The boys froze
.


No!
” Mother cried out. One of the guards snatched the baby from her arms. She lunged after him but the wounds of childbirth restrained her. A second guard walked mindlessly to the lace-covered bassinet beside her bed. He lifted from it another baby, her dark curls and bright eyes identical to her sister’s. But there was no radiant glow like her twin
.

“Please!” begged Mother from the tangles of her bloody sheets. “Only the second is a threat! That’s what he said. The other has no power, no power at all. The second took everything that should have
been split between them. Please, let me keep the first. She’s just a baby!”

The guards ignored her
.

The boys relaxed with relief as the twins were removed. Mother cried out in anguish
.


Twins.

I had been a twin. Had I really retained all the supernatural power of my sister in the womb? Was that why I was so powerful?

Even at the moment of my birth, Father had ordered my death. And now I knew why. I was more powerful than I ever imagined. So powerful that energy had literally shone out of me. No wonder they’d tried so hard to kill me. They couldn’t take the risk that one day I’d be strong enough to destroy them.

That also explained the beatings and the experiments. I always thought the pain I’d been forced to endure was because Father had tried so hard to kill me and failed. But maybe it was more than that. If they knew I couldn’t be killed, Father needed a way to stifle my powers. And he’d found it, with pain and humiliation and constant, unending fear. Anytime I’d lost control of my powers or used them to resist or fight back, the punishments had been so much worse, the pain truly unbearable.

All the new things I’d been doing lately—was something inside me changing, or just waking up? Was there even more inside me that I hadn’t discovered yet?

I thought of Theo and immediately knew the answer. Hell, yes, there was more inside me. The question was, how much more?

Markus’s mind struggled as memories pushed at him. He fought to stay in the here and now.

“You haven’t contacted Father,” I said slowly. “We’ve infiltrated the estate and killed family guards. Why aren’t the rest of the guards charging in? Where is Malcolm?”

“I am the more powerful one!” he shrieked. The barn lights shattered around us. I shielded the others from his outburst with my powers. “
I
will be the one to eliminate our enemies. I will destroy the Network, and no one will ever hinder our family’s conquests again!” Markus’s fists raised high above his head as if in victory.

Wow
. His delusions really knew no bounds.

“You honestly believe that by turning over their leader, you can defeat the Network? Or that Father will even care?”

“Not their leader,” Markus replied. “The entire Network! The scarred traitor told me about the directory, the psychic
l’annuaire
that held the secrets of all the Network members. I would lay them to waste with the powers I’ve acquired. Powers that
you
can only dream about. And when I hand their leader to our father, I’ll reap the rewards!”

Riiiiight
.

“It will prove nothing,” I said, but something in his words nagged at me. Acquired powers? We couldn’t
acquire
new powers. Could we?

His smile faded. For a moment, he was appeared confused. But then an evil grin pulled at the corners of his mouth. “You didn’t die,” he said, almost surprised. “You lived. And now you’ve returned.”

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