In the middle and just back from the main group was a soldier without a rifle. She recognized Alec, though he was a few years younger, not yet at his full height, and lacked the broad shoulders that she’d admired just a few hours ago. The regular soldiers raised their weapons, aiming at where their enemy was hiding. Alec raised a hand and dirt exploded in front of the trenches, showering whoever was in them with dust. None of the dust fell toward the oncoming soldiers.
Her eyes widened. She’d no idea his telekinesis was that powerful. Picking up her legal pad or grabbing her scarf was one thing; controlling thousands of dust molecules like that, entirely another. She bent down to look closer, practically breathing in Philip’s ear. How had Alec learned such control when her own talent, telepathy, had been so wild and unpredictable, even before it went latent?
After a few seconds, the dust cleared, and Alec appeared at the top of the embankment, his hands outstretched. The camera zeroed in on his face for the first time. Even with his helmet on, she could see his intent stare, so unlike his mostly confused expression during their session. His mouth was frozen in a near smile, as if he was having the time of his life. It was very similar to his smile when he’d burned the paper for her.
He was spectacular.
Clearly, this was his world. No wonder he’d been uncomfortable when confronted with her, so outside the rules of his very controlled life. No wonder he’d wanted the upper hand.
Alec yelled something to his ostensible enemy. A simple warning or something with more flourish, to match his mood? Fire erupted around him, circling him. The close-up remained on his face. He grinned. He actually grinned as he was encircled in flames. But maybe it was the destruction, not his gift, that brought Alec such fierce joy.
She hoped not.
In the video, men scrambled from the trench, throwing down their weapons in defeat. Alec waved his hands, as if holding a wand, and the fire disappeared. He jumped from his place on the top of the embankment to the defeated “enemy”, and raised a hand in victory. The rest of the assault team arrived, crowding around him, all smiles, giving him claps on the back.
They must be his F-Team, the Resource’s elite private assault squad.
Alec pointed and they parted for him, all of them staring into the clearing. The camera panned away from the soldiers and focused on the grass in the clearing.
The grass burst into flames, racing in perfect straight lines, making specific shapes, as natural fire never did. Her jaw dropped open as she realized the flames were spelling out words. The fire vanished, leaving charred grass that spelled Ready to Roll.
My God. He could have easily killed her with only a quick gesture in that office. She backed up and smacked her calves on her table, spilling her tea from the cup to the saucer.
The video cut back to Alec. He high-fived a few of the soldiers but they backed off when an officer approached. The officer glared at the others with unspoken authority. Alec immediately stopped grinning and saluted him. The officer saluted back, then flashed a smile, making his face come alive. This had to be Daz—Commander Daz Montoya of F-Team.
An older man walked in from the shadows, a tall, thin man wearing a sport coat and bowtie. Richard Lansing. The director of the Resource. Alec’s father in all but name, the man who’d turned Alec into an obedient weapon.
Lansing gruffly nodded to Alec, signaling approval. Alec dropped his head, yielding to his foster father. Though, whatever else Lansing had done to Alec, he hadn’t made him afraid of his gift. That put Alec one step ahead of her.
“How did you get this?” she asked Philip.
“With great difficulty.”
Philip stood from her desk chair and disconnected his thumb drive. “I can tell you over and over how dangerous he is but it has more impact if you see it.”
Philip was as grim and tightly wrapped tonight as she’d ever seen. The lines on his face were deeper than last month, when she’d first insisted on helping Alec, and Philip’s hair seemed to have gone completely gray overnight.
“The video doesn’t completely mesh with the person I met.” Alec had been more carefree in the video, less tightly wound. Less wary.
“Of course not,” Philip said. “Farley’s fully grown now, much more of a seasoned soldier.” With exaggerated care, Philip pulled down the roll top of her desk, covering the laptop. “Remember, his first instinct was to intimidate and attack you.”
“Intimidate, yes, attack, no. He was careful. He didn’t want to hurt me.”
“This time. What if you push harder?”
“He won’t hurt me.” There’d been no malice in Alec, only fear of the unknown and frustration at having no control. Given the situation, he’d responded with a lot of maturity. He’d listened.
Philip grunted and walked to the window, staring out at her balcony and the paper lantern that she’d lit for the Obon Festival. The odds on her ancestors traveling from Japan to Montclair were slim but the effort made her feel less alone. At least she had Philip. Who did Alec have?
Philip began pacing, shedding some of his coiled energy. “How long do you think it will take to get Farley to walk out of that damned place willingly?”
“I’m not sure.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “He’s well overdue for some rebellion. He senses his cage and I suspect he’s becoming less tolerant of Lansing’s reasons for keeping him so under wraps. He definitely resented Lansing’s orders to see me and that’s why he came in literally breathing fire. Classic displacement. He couldn’t go after Lansing, so he went after me.”
“So Alec is under the impression that you work for Lansing and not the CIA?”
“Yes. Alec thinks Lansing is my employer. Or, at least, he did. Now, I think he’s willing to believe that I might be a free agent.”
“Typical of Lansing. Instead of admitting that he was strong-armed by the CIA to get Alec counseling, he lies to make it seem like his decision,” Philip said.
Beth sat on her couch, needing the comfort of the oversized cushions. “I think Lansing is a manipulative bastard, yes, but you’ve dealt with many dangerous men over the years, Philip. What’s so different about this one? You talk about Lansing as if he’s the devil.”
“That’s close enough. Lansing doesn’t give a damn about Alec, just Alec’s power. You’ll notice he was careful to demand submission from Alec in the video, rather than showing any approval.” Philip stopped pacing and knelt in front of her. “Beth.” He took her hand. “Now that you’ve met Alec Farley, are you sure you’re not risking your life for a junior version of Lansing? Is Alec worth the danger?”
She squeezed his hand back. “Yes, he’s worth it.” I like his face. A good strong face. A hero’s face. And that smile. That would make anyone melt.
“And when did you decide that he was worth the trouble?”
She stared at her statue of Buddha and the offering bowl of M&Ms, in memory of her mother. Philip asked a good question. When had her worry for Alec finally overcome her fear of him and the danger she faced trying to help him?
She knew. The change had started when he’d smiled at her joke about making his head smaller. And it had sparked into something stronger when they’d touched hands and she’d gotten the shock of her life.
She couldn’t admit that intense physical desire, so strong it had seemed nearly a compulsion, to her father, especially since her attraction to Alec violated every professional ethic in the book.
“You know, if Alec accepts the truth, he could do a lot of real good with that fire,” she said. “He doesn’t need to run around playing soldier all the time.”
“Oh, I’d say he’s doing more than just playing.” Philip stood and began pacing again.
“You’re practically jumping out of your skin tonight, Philip. What’s changed since you let me go in? Is something else wrong?”
“Yes.” He stopped and faced her. “My superiors in the CIA gave me a time limit to get Alec out or eliminate him.”
“They’d k
ill him?” She clenched her hand into a fist.
“Yes, they’d kill him. They’d rather use him but they’d eliminate him if they had to.” Philip picked up her teacup from the table. The teacup was the perfect size for her. In Philip’s hands, it looked like a child’s toy. He raised an eyebrow for permission. She nodded and he drank the last dregs of her tea.
“And now we have to walk the tightrope,” he said. “When can Alec stand on his own? And if he can’t, I have to decide if he’s better off at the Resource or with the CIA.”
“Both choices are still slavery for Alec.”
“Both are better than dead.”
“You said you could save him. What’s this all about if we can’t do that?” She hugged a pillow with gold fringes to her chest. The fringe tickled the back of her hand.
“I said I’d do what I could. I can’t guarantee anything.”
“Slavery or death are not good options.”
“Exactly. That’s why I came to you in the first place.” He started ticking points off on his fingers. “One, I needed somebody outside the CIA that I could trust. Two, I needed a psychologist who would understand Alec. And three, I needed someone who would have his best interests at heart. But—”
“But nothing. I’m glad you came to me.”
“I’m not. I regret it.” Philip sank into her armchair and closed his eyes, hiding from the light of her corner lamp, covered by shadows. “Death has a way of spilling over onto anyone in its path. Alec’s life is one of violence. I don’t want you in the way. This was a mistake, a serious mistake.”
His quiet worry scared her, far more than Alec had. She pulled the pillow tighter to her chest. “It’s not a mistake.”
“How much time do you need with him?”
“Maybe three months. If I see Alec once a week, I can get him to demand more privileges from Lansing, more time in the outside world instead of being locked up in that place. But I have to build up some trust with Alec first. That’s key.”
“Push too hard with Alec, and Lansing will sense you’re a threat, eliminate you and cover it up. The CIA has leverage on the Resource because of their contracts with them but that protection only goes so far. And if Lansing found out who you really are, well, he’d love to get his hands on a telepath.” Philip slapped the armrest.
She swallowed hard, sick to her stomach at the idea. No, she didn’t want to be a prisoner again. Ever.
“You can stop Lansing if needed?” She flexed her fingers, waiting, hoping for reassurance. Her father could protect her from anything.
“I can’t stop Lansing completely or I would have long before this,” he finally said.
Oh.
“Lansing wants to build his own empire and he’s got the patience to take years to do it. You think the Resource compound is his only facility? He has a regular mercenary operation centered in upstate New York, one that is pulling in millions from government contracts. Not to mention his business operations. With that kind of money comes influence, which Lansing will use to leverage more power, until he gets it all.” Philip’s voice became lower, more intense.
“How are you so sure about this? You make him sound like an evil villain out of a comic book.”
Another long pause. “You’ll have to take my word for it.”
She punched the pillow, angry that he wouldn’t tell her everything, as usual. But she believed him. “Of course, I trust you. You know that.”
“Good.” He tapped his fingers on the armrest. “I have to ask, Beth. Is there any chance that your telepathy might reach Alec to make him see reason? If you could order him outside, you could treat him away from the Resource. If the CIA believes Alec is a free agent, they’ll back off, at least for a while.”
“I don’t think so.” Her fingers dug grooves into the pillow. She’d been grateful for years that her telepathy was gone, that she was normal. Until she saw Alec use his abilities with such joy. “My telepathy is permanently blocked off. I’ve tried but it’s been gone since the kidnapping. Trauma, probably, but I can’t sort it out and there’s no one to ask for help.” She bit her tongue. “Recovering telepathy is not something any doctor specializes in.”
“Calm down.” He leaned forward, bringing his face into the light. “I’m sorry to have asked. And even sorrier I couldn’t help you with it.”
“Not your fault. You saved me, remember?” She shook her head. Did the idea of regaining her telepathy disturb her more than not having it? Perhaps. “I might be able to go faster with Alec, though if he’s absorbed his values from Lansing, that’s a problem. What is Daz Montoya like? Alec’s obviously bonded to him. Are his values different?”
“Montoya is a decorated former Navy SEAL with a clean service record. He started as a noncommissioned officer, went to college and came back into the Navy as an officer. He has outstanding personnel reports.”
“So you’d say he has some moral values, at least compared to Lansing?”
Philip frowned. “Montoya’s taking money from Lansing and he’s intelligent enough to realize that Alec is being kept prisoner at the Resource. Those are two strikes against him. But his past record suggests a, um, honorable man.”
“That’s promising.” Beth took a deep breath. “It might make my work easier. But my worry is that Alec could switch his dependence from Lansing and Montoya to me. That’s not what Alec needs.”
“Too damn bad, if it keeps you safe.”
“But Alec needs to be safe too, secure in his own self. That’s why I went in there. Everyone else is manipulating him. I can’t add to it.” She stood, dropping her pillow.
“It’s better than him being dead.”
“You’re trying to scare me away, Philip. Why did you let me do this in the first place? When you told me about Alec, you must have known that I’d want to help him any way I could. Why not just keep it from me, if this was so dangerous? And don’t tell me it’s because I fit your mission parameters.”
Philip stood and bowed to her, a traditional Japanese bow, with more grace than she’d ever managed.
“I swore to a little girl I rescued that I’d give her a normal life, as normal as possible after her mother’s murder.” He cleared his throat. “And that means letting you make your own choices even if they terrify me.” He nearly choked on the last words. “If I kept things from you, like Alec, things you’d want to know, or lied to you about them, I’m no better than Lansing, am I?”
She crossed to him and hugged him, tight. He had so much essential kindness hidden behind that scary exterior. Often, she wondered if he showed it to anyone but her. “I couldn’t have found a better father, Philip Drake.”
“I should have sent you into foster care after I rescued you, and faded away from your life.”
And take away her lifeline? “You didn’t because we need each other. And Alec Farley needs us now.”
“Yes, my fondest wish has always been to expose you to mortal danger to save a brainwashed firestarter.” He kissed the top of her head and rested his chin there. She fit perfectly in the comforting circle of his arms. His soft sigh warmed her hair. “If my instincts feel this going wrong, I’m going to pull you out, immediately, no questions asked. Understand?”
“And Alec?”
“You’re my first priority. Always.”
Meaning that he would sacrifice Alec to keep her safe, if necessary. She was tempted to let him. To be prisoner again, helpless, maybe drugged and out of her mind…
But I can’t abandon Alec.
Chapter Two
Alec took a deep breath to calm down before going back into the room. His counselor had taken complete control of their first meeting. If they were going to have weekly sessions, that had to change.
She was from outside. He needed an ally to get long-overdue privileges out of Lansing. He wasn’t a boy anymore. His team, especially Daz, knew that. It was past time that Lansing learned it.
Beth Nakamora needed to learn it too. She had seemed smug during thei
r first session, at least until that jolt of power between them. More than anything she’d said, that had made him want to see her again. He wanted to repeat the experience and make it last much longer the next time.
He smiled. Hey, it was justified. He didn’t know what caused it, so he had to experiment and find out.
But he’d have to be careful and bide his time with the cameras watching. Lansing might have shrugged off the first incident but a repeat would raise suspicion.
Alec stepped inside the room. Beth was sitting in the chair again, waiting for him. The M&Ms were on the coffee table again along with a glass of water. A bucket of ping-pong balls sat next to Beth’s chair.
“Why do you have ping-pong balls?”
“Trust me.”
She was trying to get the upper hand again and draw him out. Two could play that game.
“Do shrinks usually use props?”
“Occasionally. You struck me as someone who learns best by doing. I wanted to illustrate something to you about proportional response.”
“So?”
“Do you want to sit or stand?”
He remained standing, instinctively falling into parade rest. This was manipulation again. And he could take a page from Daz’s book and see where patience got him.
Besides, it wasn’t like she was a physical threat.
“Ready?” she asked.
“Sure.”
She shoved her hand into the M&Ms and tossed a handful at him.
“C’mon,” he said with disgust. Some test. He twitched a finger and grabbed the M&Ms in midair with his TK. They hovered, unmoving.
He could toss them back at her but why waste M&Ms? He twitched his finger again and formed the candy into a line. He let them fall into his mouth one by one.
“Mmmm…” he said, swallowing the last.
She hadn’t moved, her mouth set in a line, but there was something about her expression that made him think she was amused. That wasn’t what he was going for, though that half-smile was awfully attractive.
“Was that a proportional response?” he asked.
Phoenix Rising Page 2