No Peace for the Damned (9 page)

“Don’t you dare put this on me!” The cement porch steps crumbled around the edges. “You are the one who put me in the position! You used my affection for you to ask more than we ever agreed to. Now I’m asking for something and you refuse. It’s bullshit!”

For some reason I didn’t want him to know that it was for Theo that I had agreed to train them; not him. But I’d dwell on those feelings later.

Thoughtfulness tightened his face. “If you really want to help the team on missions, then you can. But not today. Just be patient a little longer,” he said, an order this time. “You are serving a purpose here, more valuable to the Network than you realize.” His eyes narrowed. “Be patient, Magnolia. Don’t…” His lips tightened into a hard line. “Stay here. I’ll call you later.”

With that he rolled up his window and drove off.

I listened as the sound of his engine faded in the distance. Then I counted to twenty just to be sure. He was gone. I ran back inside and grabbed my keys.

…

Sunlight blinded me in the rearview mirror. My hands rested on the dash as I idled in front of a gated entrance to some large private neighborhood. Thirteen and the others were in there somewhere, staked out in another Network agent’s house. I scanned the road for Thirteen’s SUV or Shane’s truck, but there was nothing.

I pulled forward another half mile then parked off the gravel shoulder where my car wouldn’t be seen. I pocketed my key and took a deep breath. My power stretched out until I was completely invisible.

OK, here we go
.

I ran across the road and into the trees that surrounded the neighborhood. There wasn’t an actual wall, just tight, tall trees that worked well as a border. Once inside, I followed the main road into the neighborhood’s depths. The homes were large and set back on wide yards of grass and woods. About a mile in, the road split into a three-way fork.

Thirteen had given up the address, but without my car’s GPS, I was lost. So I listened.

Nature rustled around me, animals and insects. Farther out, I heard the strum of golf carts, lawn mowers growling, the buzz of a couple of dozen air conditioners kicking on.

How big was this neighborhood, anyway?

I listened further until finally I heard the low static of a voice whispering through an earpiece.
Aha
. I moved in the direction of the crackly whispers, but after a few steps my feet grew heavy.

Was I really ready for this? The targeted home belonged to one of Uncle Max’s old bodyguards. Some guy named George Batalkis. The name didn’t ring any bells for me, but that only meant he’d been a public guard and not an estate guard. Still, was I really ready to face someone that close to my past?

A landscaped median, dotted with gardenias, split the pavement. My pace slowed to a crawl. I’d once worn an entire dress decorated with those damn flowers. The stylist had practically glowed when I stepped into the ballroom. I’d posed for the pictures, nodded when appropriate. I’d never smiled—that had been just impossible—but I’d attended enough Senate functions to know how to play the role well enough. Unfortunately, something had changed that night.
I
had changed. Puberty had struck, and with the gardenia gown fitted so perfectly to my new figure, no guest had been coherent enough to hear what Uncle Max had to say. The stylist’s face flashed in my mind. Shock and pain had brightened her eyes when Uncle Max had garroted her after the party. She had gotten off easy—a quick death for a dress that fit too well. I hadn’t been so lucky. After all, it was
my
fault all the men invited went dumb when I entered the room.

“zzzz…no traces of forced entry…”

Was that Charles or Jon?

“…movement on the north side…hold your position.”

I dashed into the woods of the next yard. Shane was the first I spotted, crouched low behind a landscaped mound of bushes.
He wore all black, his eyes hidden behind dark wraparound shades, his blond hair pulled back in a tight ponytail. His thoughts were sharp, on the moment. The goal was to capture only. Later they would question Batalkis, find out about the Network agents still missing. The black body armor made him look even more muscular than usual.

I positioned myself next to him. He would hate it if he knew I was this close. I’d glanced inside his mind during one of our training sessions—my face had been all over his thoughts. It killed him that I was living in a house that his family had once owned. His parents had vanished after refusing to sell their land for one of many Kelch Inc. expansions. He’d thought it poetic justice that he gave the three-hundred-plus acres to the Network. Then I’d shown up.

Whatever. He could keep his scowls.

The targeted home was five thousand square feet of white brick. The driveway wound its way through the trees before disappearing at the neighborhood’s main road. Secluded, nice—maybe this guy had changed roles, taken on a more lucrative position for my family. Something like kidnapping Network members, perhaps?

“All clear on north.” Theo’s muffled voice came through Shane’s earpiece. North. I was moving before I even realized it. Jon’s voice over the wire stopped me.

“Clear on east. Move in.”

Move in?
Instantly I listened to the home’s interior. Nothing. No movement, no heartbeats or breathing. No one was home. Only the normal house sounds came from inside. That and the steady, almost silent beep of an alarm on the lower level.

I went in for a closer look. A few feet from the three-car garage, I froze. The air changed. Nothing looked different or smelled different, but a warm mist now hung all around me. The hairs on my arms rose. It felt…familiar.

My family had been here. And they had used their power; I could feel it.

A chill started up my legs and spread throughout my body. I’d never realized that our power left a physical presence. But I could sure as hell feel it now. I stepped back. Trickles of warmth drew over my skin, not pulling, just caressing—like leftovers of power used. It almost tickled.

A quick buzz came from the far side of house. A door clicked. Someone had disabled the alarm and was entering through a side entrance. Cordele. She knew no one was home and was looking for evidence.

I took another step back. The lingering power brushed against me again and I shuddered. Beep. Beep. Beep. The alarm from the basement quickened. So quiet, I knew their equipment wouldn’t pick it up. But didn’t she just disable the alarm…?

Oh God
.

I raced to the front of the house. The front entrance steps were uneven and I tripped on the last step. My hip slammed against a large potted shrub next to the door. Dirt and bush exploded all around me.
Fuck!
I’d have a nasty bruise for about three seconds. With both hands I gripped the door’s handle and yanked the entire thing off its frame. Tossing the door aside, I ran into the foyer.

Cordele was right there. Gun gripped in both hands. The barrel pointed right at me.

I leaped to the side, but she didn’t shoot. And her aim didn’t follow me. She held her position, her hands steady. Her clear, brown eyes searched the open doorway. Her hair was pulled back tight like Shane’s, hiding the blonde among her brunette roots. She’d just watched an invisible force blow away a solid oak front door, not six feet in front of her, and she hadn’t even flinched. My respect for her doubled on the spot.

The beeping raced, louder now that I was inside. We were out of time. I pulled back my power and revealed myself. My hands shot up as she turned her gun on me.

“Cordele,” I said quickly. “Cordele, it’s me. It’s Magnolia. We have to get out of here. Now.”

Her thoughts moved fast. Was this a Kelch trick? Had Thirteen sent me in? She hadn’t been told of any change in the plan. So why was I here?

“Cordele!” I said again. Then I moved. In a blur, I twisted the gun from her grip and grabbed her from behind. Her gun arm wrenched awkwardly at her back, pinned in place against my chest. I picked her up in a bear-hug heave and lifted her feet off the ground. She struggled, but it was pointless. Then I ran.

I raced down the front steps and into the yard. Charles and Shane appeared from the tree line, guns up when they saw me carrying Cordele.

“Run!” I shouted. “There’s a bomb!”

They paused, confused. I continued across the yard and yelled back over my shoulder, “Run, damn it, the place is going to blow!”

Shane kept his gun on me, but Charles put a finger to his earpiece and sprinted after us. A moment later, Shane followed.

I saw the main road up ahead when the deafening blast shattered the air around us. My feet flew out from under me. Cordele slipped from my grip and I let her go just as I slammed face-first into a gardenia bush.
Fucking flowers!
My legs collided with something hard and I hoped it wasn’t Cordele’s face. The wind whooshed out of my lungs on impact, but a second after landing, I was back on my feet.

Debris fell in chunks from the sky—pieces of brick, wood, plaster—all coated in a dense cloud of smoke. Cordele moaned from a few feet away. I walked over to her as she rolled onto her back, coughing.

“Are you OK? Cordele?”

Footsteps came from behind. I wheeled around, blocking Cordele. It was Charles. Gray ash covered him from head to toe. Shane appeared a few feet behind. I held my position.

“What the hell did you do?” Charles shouted at me.

“I just saved your ass,” I shouted back. “You’re welcome.”

Shane checked Cordele for injuries.

“Fuck that,” Charles said with a snarl, “you just about blew us all up!”

“There was a bomb, you idiot!”

“Bullshit! Our scanners didn’t pick up anything. The only thing out of place in there was you.” He raised his gun and aimed for my head. Instantly it turned hot in his hands. So hot the metal melted in his grip.
Holy shit!
I’d never done that before.

He cried out and dropped the weapon. His face turned red with rage. “Will you stop fucking up my hands!”

“Stop attacking me and I’ll think about it!”

Tires squealed on the road ahead of us. A car stopped at the top of the driveway. Neighbors.

“Let’s get out of here,” Shane said, echoing my thoughts. “The others pulled back. We need to reconvene with Thirteen and Banks.”

Charles didn’t move. He had another gun at his waist. One with a rubber grip. Could he get to it in time? Before I tried something else?

“Now!” Shane ordered, then followed Cordele into the trees.

I waved for Charles to go first. He scowled. The neighbors’ voices drew close. Finally he growled in frustration, then stepped back. I followed his lead.

I kept Charles in view as we made our way through the thinning smoke. A knot formed in my gut as we walked. So much for sneaking in on the mission unnoticed. Even worse, Cordele hadn’t
gotten the evidence she needed. The Network’s most promising lead had just had his house blown to bits. I knew none of this was really my fault, but still.

Thirteen was going to kill me.

I should have known today would be a total clusterfuck. Even before Thirteen told me training was canceled, even before I’d snuck out to join the team’s mission—I’d woken up with a throbbing headache. Almost as bad as the ones I used to get while healing from Father’s punishments.

It was the dreams. Abstract, swirling masses of dark red, every now and then a flash of yellow. Just thinking about it made me dizzy.

A chilly feeling trickled down my spine. Twice now my powers had acted in a way I hadn’t expected them to. Theo being shot across the yard during training—I’d figured that was from whatever was happening between us. But melting that gun in Charles’s hand…it was something I’d seen Father do before with his telekinesis, but I’d never done anything like it. Were these dreams more than just dreams? Was something inside me changing?

Sirens approached Batalkis’s house. Several acres separated one neighbor from the next—probably enough to protect those living close by from the fires of the explosion. Not that I cared what happened to the neighbors, but still…

I stayed with Charles until we came to another brick house farther back in the neighborhood. It was a lot like the one we’d just left—large, secluded, well maintained. We walked around a pondlike pool and entered the home’s lower level. The room was a game room—pool table, big couches, big-screen TV. The only other exit was the stairs. Right where Banks and Thirteen stood together, talking in low voices.

Banks looked up when we entered. Thirteen turned away. Great.

Charles met Shane at the pool table. Papers and surveillance photos covered the felt table in front of them. Their short-range scanners and monitoring equipment lined the wall behind them.

I took a seat in a recliner against the wall. Cordele stretched out on the couch across from me. She eyed me steadily, holding her rib cage. I rolled my eyes.

“Detective Pryor’s on his way,” Thirteen said into his cell phone. “He’ll be your Network contact with the IPD. Stick with the neighbors until he arrives.” Then he ended his call. I looked at my lap. The room stiffened as he walked over to stand in front of me. The corners of my eyes started to burn.