The Cure (14 page)

U
NBOUNDED OR SOMEONE WHO KNEW
about us, or about me in particular or he wouldn’t be here on this roof. But no one had followed me.

I eased toward a long plastic crate with a greasy exterior. The lid came off easily, and from underneath an old blanket, I withdrew two of the four-foot pieces of especially hardened wood I kept inside. One of these I placed on the rooftop in easy reach—a backup in case I lost the first in battle. I had my gun, of course, but depending on who my visitor was, I’d try to get rid of him the old-fashioned way. It was a lot easier taking a prisoner who could walk than hauling out a limp body. Besides, I’d already killed a man tonight, and I hadn’t even examined my feelings about that. I felt changed somehow—and not in a good way.

My body tingled with alertness. With the curequick and the time that had passed since the fighting, I felt remarkably better. My ribs didn’t even ache. Part of my sudden well-being was the spurt of adrenalin that accompanied me during each confrontation since my Change. As if my body longed for the battle.

I didn’t fight it. Whoever tracked me here was going to seriously wish they hadn’t found me.

A figure came into sight and the urge to fight increased. I knew that shape only too well, despite our time apart. I also recognized the mind barrier now, hard and unyielding. Determined. Yet if I got close enough, it was one of the few I had managed to breach momentarily.

Maybe I wasn’t such a failure after all.

He was going to pay. I jumped up from my crouched position. “So you’re following me now? Guess that means your GPS locator is working.” I meant to sound strong and flippant, but I’d forgotten I was on the roof and my sudden change in height sent my head spinning. I had to get away from the edge. Gripping my stick and picking up the second as well, I took several large steps forward.

“You said we’d talk later,” Ritter said. “It’s later.”

“Well, that’s kind of stupid. Later could mean next year or next decade.” I could see him now, barely illuminated by the light coming from several taller buildings. Unlike me, he’d taken the opportunity to change clothes; though his jeans looked the same, they were no longer stained with blood. The darkness worked in my favor up here because away from the edge I could pretend we were in the workout room instead of on a roof where I might fall. I tossed him one of the sticks. They weren’t quite bo staff size, being shorter and thicker, but close enough, and they did a lot less damage than a handgun. We needed to save some energy for the Emporium agents in Mexico.

I swung a test blow, and he brought his stick up forcefully, knocking me back. He arched a brow. “That’s how you’ve been training?”

The stupid, self-satisfied jerk. “I guess without you around we’re all helpless.” I slammed the stick at him again, whirling and whipping it to gain more power. He barely brought up his weapon in time.
Ha, take that!
He countered with an attack of his own that my eyes could scarcely follow, but I was ready with a series of moves Jace and I’d worked on for weeks. I feinted, stepped to the side, feinted again, launched into a fancy form that was meant for show, not battle, stopping short to whirl and slam the stick into my opponent. Ritter let out a grunt of pain.

Score!

“Maybe you
have
learned a thing or two.” His voice told me I was in trouble now. Well, let him do his worst. I might not be able to beat him or even touch him again with the stick, but I wouldn’t give up either.

I barely blocked his next blow and the next. I stepped backwards, scrambling for purchase. I feinted before my next strike and we met solidly, my arms vibrating with the shock.
Ouch.

On and on we went, thrusting and parrying. Sweat trickled down my neck and into my shirt. Ritter was poetry in motion. How could he be so fierce and beautiful at the same time?

“Be careful,” he said, holding back on a jab that I wouldn’t have been able to block. “You’re near the edge.”

I glanced behind me, saw the drop, the apartment lights running down the next building. The black sky seemed to crash over me with a weight of a thousand gravities. “Oh, crap!” I dropped my stick and sat down inelegantly.
Breathe. You are not on a roof. Breathe.

Ritter sat beside me, and he didn’t speak, for which I was grateful. Otherwise, I might throw up on him, making a bad situation worse. I should have known better than to spar with him here.

What was I trying to prove anyway? It wasn’t like I’d ever be able to beat him.

We sat in silence while our sweat cooled and our body heat became numbness. “We should go back,” I said when I could no longer feel my toes or fingers. “Ava will worry.”

Actually, Ava would know where we were if she checked her GPS locator, so she wouldn’t be concerned. At first being trackable had worried me, but we weren’t in danger of being traced by anyone from outside because each chip emitted a constantly changing pattern programmed and regularly changed by Stella. I sometimes resented the intrusiveness, but I knew where the locator was in my arm—and how to remove it if I really wanted to.

Ritter’s jaw tightened briefly before he spoke, emphasizing the shadow of a beard that was beginning to show on his face. “Why are you so angry? What’s changed?” The cut on his eye was gone, though there was a slight droop below his left eye, not a defect that his Unbounded genes would have fixed, but part of his genetic makeup.

“Angry?” I clenched my fists. “You know what, figure it out for yourself.” I jumped to my feet—well, at least I got to my feet, which given the circumstances was a tremendous accomplishment. Grabbing my stick, I swung, not holding back. His stick went up, blocking.

I retreated toward the door, away from the edge, until I no longer felt the huge pressure of the sky overhead. I still felt like throwing up, but I’d grown accustomed to that feeling and it wouldn’t hamper me too much. It was the main reason I came up here.

He lunged, and I blocked. I lunged, and he blocked.

“Not bad,” Ritter said. “You’ve been practicing.”

No thanks to you.
I smirked. “Ava and Dimitri are good teachers.”

“Of course they are. I trained them.”

Leave it to him to take credit, though he’d abandoned all of us.

Our sticks met in a solid
clack!
I stumbled backward, falling to the cement that lined the rooftop, one elbow in a gutter that ran to the edge. He was on me in an instant, his weight pinning me. I was no match for him. Not even in two hundred years would I be.

Unless I could figure out how to use my own ability against him.

I reached out, thrusting my mind at the blackness of his barriers, my arms pushing against his chest. The mind shield seemed every bit as strong and unyielding as the hard body on mine, a blackness with only one tiny ray of light. I dove for the light, slithering inside.

All at once, the barrier was gone. My mind flared with need, desire, and frustration. Not my feelings but his, mirroring mine. Together doubled in intensity. He froze, his hands pinning mine, his body holding me down. Our hearts beat out a single rhythm.

In the next instant we were kissing. Urgency filled my mind. Pleasure at his touch. No, his pleasure. Did it make a difference? His lips parted and mine opened to him. The world turned now for quite another reason. He kissed my lips, my face, my neck, and I kissed him back greedily, wanting more.

“I can feel your emotions,” he murmured against my cheek.

He was wrong. He could only feel the surface ones, the ones I sent him—the need, the want, the anger—not the hurt, the part of me that wanted to beg for an explanation.

I could hurt him, I realized, now that his mind was open and unguarded. I could dig in. Twist and damage. Ava had warned me repeatedly to be careful when we practiced, saying I could hurt an unshielded mind, but until this moment, I hadn’t understood the concept fully. No wonder one of the first things taught new Unbounded was to shield their minds. I was a weapon—the trick was getting inside. My determination and proximity to Ritter had aided me, but if I could learn to do it from a distance, I might be of more use to the Renegades.

If I probed a bit, I might also learn where he’d been these past two months. What he valued more than us. Than me.

His mouth lowered again, angling toward mine.

I lashed out, sending a hot sphere of anger into his mind, pushing at him physically as well. He sucked in a breath, and his barrier clamped back into place. “You really have been practicing.”

“Get. Off. Me.” Let him wonder that my body arched toward his even while I was pushing him away.

He rolled off, but his hand grabbed mine. “Why?”

He meant my anger. I shook my hand free. “Look, it’s not going to work. Stay away from me.”

His lips hardened. It was the right thing to say. Or rather the wrong thing if I wanted an explanation. But I was finished wanting anything from him.

At least that’s what I told myself.

I headed for the door, going inside with a sharp sensation of relief. The nausea would take time to abate, I knew from experience, but the pressure and the immediate fear of falling was gone.

Ritter came after me, his face a mask of impassivity. For a moment, I felt a sharp, stabbing disappointment. What did I really know about this man? I knew he’d lost his family and his dark-haired fiancée two hundred and forty years ago. I knew that he wore her engagement band on a necklace, along with his mother’s and one that had belonged to his little sister. I knew he still had vivid nightmares about that night, that he’d dedicated his life to revenge, and that his loyalty to the Renegades was unquestionable. I knew he liked plants and dogs. I knew that I was more attracted to him than I’d ever been to Tom, a man I’d almost married. I knew he’d broken his own rule of getting involved when he’d met me. Loving anyone meant losing, in his book.

In all, it wasn’t much. I’d only caught a few glimpses of the real man. We couldn’t possibly know each other well enough to handle the attraction between us. Maybe Stella was right that he was too filled with anger to make any sort of relationship work. I’d be better off with Cort, or a mortal like Keene.

Then again, maybe if Ritter finally had a real focus for his anger, he’d be able to work out his pain and plan for a future that didn’t involve maiming or death. I could give him that release. I’d learned two months ago who’d been directly responsible for the death of his family and the attempt on his life. There had been time to tell him before he’d taken off, but I hadn’t told him or anyone. I was still protecting her, my once best friend, Justine.

Or maybe I was worried that taking ultimate revenge would sever him from any connection with humanity—and with me.

Maybe I’d chosen wrong.

Sometimes life really sucked. Because if I had told him, Justine might not be in Mexico now causing us trouble. That meant it was my fault. Whatever happened, I couldn’t let myself forget that she was the reason my niece and nephew were motherless.

Maybe I was the one who wanted to keep the revenge for myself.

Down in the lobby, Ritter reached for the door but didn’t step through. He turned his glittering eyes toward me.

“This is
not
over. You and I both know that. But go ahead and pretend for now.”

Ignoring him, I stalked out into the night.

I
EXPECTED TO FIND EVERYONE
sleeping when I arrived at Stella’s, but instead there was a bustle of activity. Only the kids, Stella, Mari, and Oliver slept, while everyone else sorted through the equipment that had been salvaged from the palace. Ritter, who’d followed me home, began hauling bags out to the vehicles.

Ava smiled when she handed me a duffel bag of clothing, complete with my favorite jeans and catwoman outfit. “I figured it’d save time grabbing some clothing for everyone since you’re taking off in a few hours.”

The emphasis on “you’re” drew my attention. “You’re not coming?”

“For now I’m staying with Stella and Oliver. And Mari, of course. With Dimitri gone, there’s no one else.”

“How is Stella?”

Ava frowned. “I don’t know how she held off so many, but her body certainly paid the price. If she’d been mortal, she’d have died a dozen times. She will live, of course.”

She didn’t mention the baby, and I didn’t ask. I already knew. I could tell in the sadness emanating from the thoughts she’d let me glimpse. Instead she said, “You’d better clean up. We’ve almost finished packing for the trip.”

Jace came in from outside. “Where’ve you been? I was worried.”

“At Mom and Dad’s.”

“On the roof? Again? ’Cause I know you didn’t wake them up to tell them about our wonderful evening.” He shook his head. “Sometimes I think you have an addiction to fear. That can’t be good for you.”

“Shut up.” He was the only one who knew my secret about the roof. Well, him and now Ritter. I knew it was a little crazy, but in all my research it seemed the only way to permanently cure myself.