No Peace for the Damned (28 page)

The hairs on the back of my neck trembled. Terror shivered up my spine. Deliberately, I turned squarely to face him, blocking Thirteen and Jon as they inched back toward the others.

“I have
not
returned, Markus.”

“Oh, but you have, sister. You’re here, right in front of me.”

My shoulders leaned forward, my body tensed. “I have not returned, Markus,” I repeated. “I will
never
return.”

He pondered this for a moment. “You think these
people
,” he hissed the word in disgust, “will help you escape?”

I didn’t respond. Markus doubled over in laughter, wiped away a stray tear. Utter joy and decision brightened his face.

“
You
are my proof of superiority,” he said. “I’ll hand over our enemies—trespassing vigilantes who murdered our employees—and will be rewarded for my ingenuity. Then, when I present them with
you
, the powerful Magnolia, they’ll know that Malcolm failed in his attempts to end you.” He stared off into space. “They will revere me as the strongest of our line.”

I cleared my throat. His gaze snapped back to mine. Power gathered at my fingertips, but I forced nonchalance.

“While I’m all for self-deception as a way of life, there are a couple of problems with your invented reality. First, I will
not
go back. You would have to kill me for that to happen, and we all know that simply isn’t in the cards. Second, you are not handing anyone over to Father or Uncle Max. I’m taking these men with me. And third, there is
nothing
, no single thing in existence, that would make our father look at you as anything other than the scared, weaker son.” I shrugged. “Such is your life.”

Markus’s eyes went wide. His energy swept over me, tickling the hairs on my skin. It wasn’t painful—he wasn’t strong enough for that—but it held anticipation for the moment just ahead. I took a deep breath. Stepped forward.

He raised his hand high. His fingers flexed in the air, curling as if around my throat, choking me.

I rolled my eyes. “Oh, please,” I said. Markus smiled.

“Theo!” Jon’s scream stopped my heart. “Oh God!”

I spun around. Theo fell against the partition wall. His hands clawed at his throat. He gasped for air. Markus growled triumphantly. “Why, Magnolia, you
do
have a weakness.”

Theo writhed again. Our connection came to life with a roar. The power surged, elevating me beyond my previous self. Beyond anything I had experienced so far. At once the room darkened. But there was no red or crimson like when I had tortured Banks.

There was only gold.

My hands curved and transformed instantly; my heartbeat throbbed in time with the room around me. Markus attacked. He leaped from his place on top of the tarped mound, tackling me to the ground. Our combined weight and force sent us sliding across the dirty floor. We flew past Theo’s contorting body and crashed into the far partition.

My clawed hands clung to Markus. He held me to the ground. I dug my claws deeper into his shoulders, ready to rip off his arms.
He cried out. In a move so fast I missed it, he reached between our bodies. With a loud tear, he ripped open my shirt.

His focus stuttered at my exposed bra, but he shook it off quickly. He pressed his open palm to my chest, right above my heart. His hand blazed with heat, instantly burning through my flesh. The energy radiated deep into my muscles, melting the tissue and heading for my heart. I screamed.

Images of the autopsied Network members flashed into my mind. The traces of polonium 210, the radioactive residue left on their corpses.
This
was the acquired power that Markus spoke of in his rant—the reason he believed himself so powerful now. A nuclear capability. But how?

I shoved deep into his mind, searching his memories. There it was—Father’s latest experiment. Markus had been locked inside a secured room while Father had emitted concentrated polonium into the room’s airspace. The polonium hadn’t caused any pain or disfigurement like Father had hoped, so the experiment had been abandoned and Father had moved on. It was weeks later that Markus realized the chemicals had mutated inside him, reacting with his telekinesis to create a new power. He’d kept his new radioactive ability secret from the rest of the family.

I doubted even a nuclear explosion could permanently kill me. But I really didn’t want to test the theory.

I pulled both hands from Markus’s back. Then, angling a sharp talon into each ear, I shoved my bloody claws into the sides of his head. He reared back with a shriek. I was on him instantly, launching us against the stairs.

Our weight and force were too much for the rusted staircase. When we hit, the bolts gave, and the staircase collapsed and shattered in metal shards all around us. I kept a firm straddle on Markus’s chest, both hands drilling into his temples.

“He doesn’t care for you,” Markus wheezed as he shuddered beneath me. “I saw it in his head. He only wants you as Malcolm wanted you, as all the filthy minds wanted you.”

The words stabbed me like knives. Much more painful than his pathetic radioactive burn. He had pinpointed my fears. Even more, he’d struck at the connection between Theo and me—the one thing I
couldn’t
control.

There was a tremor. Like a violent earthquake. The next moment I was in the air. All lingering pain vanished. I peered around the barn. Saw Theo, still gasping for air, Jon and Thirteen at his side. Saw Shane digging through the partition rubble, searching to help the injured hostages.

And I saw me. On top of Markus, my hands still plunged into either side of his head.

I was outside myself, looking down on the scene from several feet above. I recognized my hair, my torn cloths. But my face, my eyes and hands, were all completely foreign. I was strange, beautiful, ethereal. I was a monster.

My eyes swirled, a glowing mixture of crimson and gold. My hands were brown and leathery, joints protruding and claws stretched long.

I watched as my jaw opened wide. My teeth, pointed and long, were as numerous as a shark’s. In an animalistic roar I clamped my jaw down on Markus’s throat. When I rose, his jugular rested between my teeth.

My eyes closed. A wave of ecstasy shook me. The taste and power of his blood—metallic and tangy—it was too fulfilling not to savor.

Then I opened my eyes.

The world was empty. Not black—my peripheral vision vibrated with color—but blank. Void. I was back in my own skin, but the world around me still felt separate.

I’d killed my brother. I had killed Markus.

There were murmurs everywhere. Voices, thoughts. White noise. A tattered darkness.

Then I saw him. I saw my brother—fear and rage forever frozen in his features.

Strands of Markus’s flesh stuck in between my teeth. The taste of blood and skin coated my mouth and trickled down my throat. As I took stock of this—of what I had done—I had to admit to myself the truth: I…didn’t…hate…it.

Panic tightened my chest. I had let the power rise up and transform me, allowed it to show itself with talons and beastly teeth. What was I becoming? Or had I already turned? My
eyes shut tight. The murmurs around me cleared into coherent thoughts.

We need to get the hostages to the police. We need to get out of here. Get out of here
then
go to the police…

There will be retribution by the family. There is going to be a war now…

I’m going to be sick! God, she’s still holding his throat in her hands…

I looked down. Sure enough, the thick, bloodied tube that had once been Markus’s throat rested on my lap.
Oh God
.

I twisted onto my hands and knees as my stomached heaved. Blood and bile pooled around me until I had nothing left. And then I heaved again.

Finally empty, I swallowed hard and blocked out everyone’s thoughts. I rose to my feet, legs shaky. Markus’s throat fell to the ground with a wet thud. My knees buckled underneath me.

Strong hands caught me at the elbow, steadied me. The warmth of my core told me who it was.
How could he even touch me now?

“Can you walk?” Theo whispered.

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. Not after what I’d just done.

“Mag? Can you hear me?”

My eyes clouded with tears. He didn’t ask again. Instead, he guided me through the barn toward the garage entrance. My heart burned with every step. The healing had already begun. But the knitting of the wounds inside me was painful. Each heartbeat a fresh ache.

Blood and bodies littered the barn floor. The tools and fallen weapons that Markus had thrown at me were mixed in with the debris. Someone opened the garage door. The storm outside showered the room, muddying the already dirty floor.

Why open the door? Weren’t we risking exposure?

Then I saw. The tarp had fallen from the heap Markus had used as a platform. An old Chevy pickup truck, rusted beyond its years, left abandoned by one of the maintenance crew. Shane was buried under the cab’s hood. Jon and Thirteen moved the injured hostages into the truck’s bed. Theo lifted me and carried me across the barn, I was so shaken.

The storm helped our cover, and since Markus had disconnected the monitors on the barn, the fight hadn’t been picked up by the guard station. But once we were out on the main property, the cameras would see us. We had to be fast. I had to get myself together.

Reluctantly, I shrugged off Theo’s hold. I still couldn’t look at him. Jon laid the unconscious Network member in the truck bed. He’d straightened her bloody clothes, brushed her hair from her battered face.

Cordele.

A loud sob escaped me. They must have captured her just today. She hadn’t even been reported missing yet. Her hair matted, her eyes swollen and crusted with blood, her shirt torn to shreds with thick welts covering the exposed skin. Jon turned from the truck and gripped his own shoulder, where shreds of his shirt were used as a tourniquet.

Shane roared the truck to life. Thirteen came around the rear fender. My chest clenched. I looked away. He had seen what I had done to Markus. I wouldn’t blame him if he just left me here.

He stepped right up to me, towering over me. Then he gathered me into his arms. He held my face gently to his massive chest. Ran a hand through my matted hair.

“Shh,” he whispered. “It’s all over now.”

I lost it. Tears began streaming, nose running. I couldn’t catch my breath. I sobbed and Thirteen held me. Accepted me. Forgave me.

“We need to move,” Jon said softly.

I was suddenly exhausted. I wanted to go home to my little farmhouse. To curl up in my yellow quilt and cheap sheets. I leaned into Thirteen, laid my forehead against his chest. He lifted the hem of his tattered shirt and ran it over my mouth, back and forth.

“Will you be able to mask the truck from detection?” he asked me.

His hand moved to my neck. He was wiping away Markus’s blood. I nodded weakly.

“Well, don’t mask everyone,” Jon interjected. His hand still clutched his shoulder. He leaned against the truck for support. “We want the cameras to capture the hostages and some of us as well, don’t we?”

“Yes, of course,” Thirteen said.

“If you want, I’ll only mask myself.” I turned to those lying in the truck. “Should I heal them?” I asked.

“No,” Theo said from behind me. “We need their injuries as proof.”

I looked at Cordele. Fresh tears welled in my eyes. From my back, Theo took my elbow and guided me away from Thirteen. A hand at my waist, he lifted me into the truck bed with the others. His touch was quick, but there was no hesitation. “Let’s get outta here,” he called over his shoulder before crawling into the truck bed beside me.

I’m a Kelch. Why do you want me? I’m a monster. You saw what I did to Markus
.

He snaked his arm around my shoulders and pulled me against his side. “I got you, Mag,” he said, his voice husky, reassuring. “You’re OK now.”

For the first time since that horrible moment on the couch, I looked Theo in the face. He looked over my body, scanning me
from head to toe. Frowning. Then he met my eyes. His gaze softened. There was no disgust, no fear. Only concern. Genuine concern.

The tears came once again.
I’ll never understand anything
.

Shane tapped on the cab’s back window. “Where am I going?” he shouted.

I was too overwhelmed to speak out loud.

Follow the path from the barn to the east entrance. Stay to the left at every fork and you’ll end up right at the gate
.

My mind was still shut tight. If he tried to respond with his thoughts, I didn’t hear.

The truck pulled out of the barn. Rain poured down on us. I made myself invisible. Theo pulled me in closer, and the connection between us hummed. I knew the moment the cameras picked us up because the guard station went crazy. Shouting orders, making phone calls to the main house. I didn’t care. The memory of our intimacy stirred something inside me. Theo inhaled sharply. He turned me toward him and looked me right in the eyes.

Everything will be figured out in time, Mag
.

It was my turn to gasp. I was still invisible. My mental blocks were solidly in place. How could he see me? How could he speak to me with his thoughts?