“You think I’ll get another chance at them?”
Daz nodded. “Now that they’ve got the components, Demeter won’t go underground for long. He’ll poke his head out to use that bomb and then it’ll be our turn again.”
“I won’t screw it up.”
“I know. I told you, it’s a growth spurt. Go to the techs, get tested and sort your gifts out. That’s an order.”
Alec nodded. “Okay.”
Footsteps echoed down the hallway. Pumps, not work shoes. Daz turned and raised his eyebrows as Beth came into view.
“Remember what I said, Firefly. And, hey, relaxation might be good for you.” He walked past Beth, whistling.
Alec straightened and ran a hand through his mussed hair. Beth had seen the whole exercise. Did it scare her too? Then he remembered. She looked fragile but she was more like steel than some hothouse Japanese flower.
“You got a lousy show today, counselor.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” she said. “Your TK is really impressive, especially when it’s not being used against innocent silk scarves or ping-pong balls.”
He smiled at the warmth in her voice and felt the tension ease out of him. “So where do we talk?”
She blinked and her gaze flitted down the hallway and back again. “On the grounds, maybe? It’s a beautiful day.”
Was that his imagination or did her voice sound a bit shaky? Maybe she was scared of him and hiding it. “Sure. Follow me.”
He led her back up the metal stairs and into the first floor of the Resource complex. Below ground held all the good stuff: his apartment, the training rooms, the gym, F-Team’s rec room. Above ground had all those sterile offices with pastel colors.
Outside would definitely be better. He could take her to a spot where they wouldn’t be seen and follow up on that kiss. Daz had practically ordered him to do it and, hey, a good soldier followed orders.
He pointed to a side door. She nodded and followed him, her gaze flicking back and forth at the miniature cameras that lined the hallways.
He blinked once they stepped outside, trying to adjust to the twilight after the bright fluorescent lights inside. Not total dark, not yet, but it would get there. Didn’t girls think night strolls were romantic? He’d read that somewhere. Better Beth feeling romantic than scared of him. He put his hand on her shoulder.
Surprisingly, she leaned against him. And she didn’t say anything about it being unethical, either. He took the lead, slowing his pace to her small steps. He could almost feel her skin under her light cotton blouse.
“Where are we going?” she whispered.
“Trust me.”
“Okay.” She looked around, squinting. “Which side of the Resource are we on?”
“East.”
She nodded, as if satisfied with something.
They picked their way around a wall of scrub trees that hid the hill just past the exterior fence of the Resource. He used the TK to keep the branches away from her face, branches she hadn’t seen in the dim light.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“You’re welcome.” Only one camera here and he’d use the TK to delay it from scanning this area. He was supposed to work on TK control. In theory, he was doing exactly what Lansing said. He wished he dared pull Beth tighter against him. She felt so good. But he didn’t want to risk her backing off again.
He stopped in front of the chain link fence.
She glanced backwards. “Do you think anyone is following?”
He closed his eyes and sent his TK back to the trees. Nothing moving. “If they are, they’re not close. Stop worrying. Daz knows where I am. They’ll leave us alone.”
“I hope so.”
“You worry too much.” Besides, if they did send anyone after him, it would take a while. They were effectively hidden from all the cameras. “Watch this, counselor.”
He reached out a hand. A people-sized section of the fence parted in front of them, creating a hole big enough for them to slip through one at a time.
She sucked in her breath. “You had a way out and didn’t take it?”
“Hey, I’ve been outside the grounds before. It’s not that interesting.”
“That’s because—never mind.”
“Good, because I don’t want to argue.”
He went through the hole first. Her sweater snagged on a bit of metal for a second, then she was free. They were free.
“You parted that fence very quickly,” she said as they walked down the hill. “And with no noise.”
Should he admit that it had been quiet for a reason? “I figured out the cameras have a small gap right there. I played with the fence a long time, pulling it apart, putting it back together, just to see if I could. It doesn’t look like it’s broken, but it is.”
“That’s amazing.”
He clasped her hand. Once again, that weird electric hum between them clicked into place, though not as strong as when he’d kissed her. At least not yet. “I can do other impressive stuff.”
“I’ll bet.”
“There’s a clearing where we can talk.” He squeezed her hand, gently. Such a tiny hand, it felt so fragile. If he squeezed too hard, he might break it. “A little stream too. No cameras, just us. I found it the last time I came this way. I liked it.”
“It sounds lovely.” She sighed. “I think you might be a romantic at heart, Alec.”
“Maybe.”
“Alec?”
“Yeah?”
“How would you like to go farther than the clearing?”
Was she asking him to her place?
“That could be good.” He put his arm around her shoulder as they reached the bottom of the hill. The connection between them was a steady hum. He was close to full arousal and wondered if she was too. But she seemed more distracted than anything else.
Gravel from an old service road crunched under his boots. “How would we get to your place? It’s too far to walk.”
She paused, as if thinking hard about the answer. “A friend left me a car around here,” she said. “At least, I think it’s around here.”
“You’re kidding.”
She leaned against him. He pulled her close. “You want me to go home with you?” He held her out from him, searching her face to see if she’d object. This was better than he hoped.
“In a way. The house where I want to take you belongs to a friend but he lets me use it.” She put her hand on one of the large pine trees, looking around, squinting. She took two steps, and banged her knee into something that made a hollow metallic clunk.
“You okay?” he said. “That was no tree.”
“No, it’s our ride.” She rubbed the knee. “This way, we can leave without anyone following. I wanted to surprise you.”
“I’m surprised.” He knelt down to look closer, and dropped her hand. She’d walked into the front fender of a car that was covered by a green tarp.
“Cool camouflage.” He peeled back the tarp. A Honda. He’d been hoping for a sports car. But at least he was leaving with Beth to go to her place, where they could be alone with no watchers.
“Thanks.” She punched in a code on the driver’s side lock.
He got in the car as she pulled the rest of the tarp off. She dropped the tarp in the backseat, sat down behind the wheel, picked up the keys from the driver’s seat and turned over the ignition.
“Wait, how’d you get a car out here?”
“Just lucky, I guess.” She reached down into a side pocket on the door and slipped something into her hand.
His back stiffened. This whole thing was weird. He hadn’t been seduced many times but this suddenly didn’t feel like it should. He grabbed her right hand.
“Counselor? What’s really going on?”
She turned, eyes wide. “I—” Her hand closed over whatever was in her palm. “I work with the CIA on occasion, so I’ve learned to be careful and plan ahead. The car was left here by a friend in case I needed it.”
&n
bsp; “Plan ahead for what? Why would you need to hide a car from the Resource? It can’t be just to have sex with me.” He gripped her hand tighter.
“The Resource isn’t as benevolent as you think, especially its director.”
“What exactly are you afraid of?”
She tried to pull her hand free. He tightened his grip. Lansing had warned him the CIA would like to get hold of him. Maybe that’s what she was doing. And he’d walked right into it because she’d let him put his arm around her shoulder. Daz would never let him hear the end of that one.
“Alec, it’s complicated. It’ll take too long to tell it here, especially given how quick they’ll miss you. As soon as we get where we’re going, I’ll tell you. But I swear, I will not hurt you.”
“Not good enough.” He dug his fingers into her wrist. “Talk to me now, before we go anywhere.”
She tried to pull her hand free. He let her pull him closer to her, intending to pin her to the seat and get some real answers. But she twisted and her left hand came forward. He caught a glimpse of something sharp just before she plunged it into his shoulder. He jerked backward and hit his head on the rearview mirror. He looked down at his shoulder. A syringe was stuck in there, just above his collarbone.
Oh, fuck, another tranq?
“You—” He grabbed the syringe and pulled it out. Blood trickled down his T-shirt. Lethargy started to spread through his arm. Drugged. Again. “Why? I trusted you!”
“I’m sorry. We need to get away from this place. Fast. I won’t hurt you.”
“Yeah, well, this needle doesn’t scream harmless.” He jerked away from her and banged his back against the passenger door. He took a deep breath. Already, his arms and legs felt twice as heavy. He fought to keep his eyes open. “I’m out of here.”
He fumbled for the door lock. Bad enough to have Daz drug him but now he’d been fooled by someone half his size. And Lansing had been right again. He couldn’t trust people from outside.
Alec set his jaw and pushed Beth against the driver’s side door with his TK. She let out a muffled cry of pain. His vision started to go blurry at the edges. Okay, let’s see how she liked a fire show, close-up.
Something shifted inside his head, like a finger scraping against an open wound. He put his hands over his ears to block it out, almost doubling over. What drug did this?
He felt the car lurch into gear as he lost consciousness.
Chapter Seven
He had no fire.
Alec smashed his fist into the wall and stomped across the musty room, his combat boots making small thuds that echoed off the pipes above him. A basement. Beth had locked him in somebody’s fucking basement.
There was a small kitchen area but it held no food. A couch, a coffee table and a recliner sat on top of a solid blue rug but there was no gaming console or TV in sight. The whitewashed walls were lined with empty metal shelves. The only thing that looked remotely interesting was the bomb shelter sign above the kitchen sink. Someone had a sick sense of humor.
Though, come to think of it, the basement did look like photos of the old-style bomb shelters from when everyone had been sure a nuclear war was imminent. There were no windows and only one door at the top of the steps that was locked solid.
Whatever else it was, it was his prison now.
He flung himself in the threadbare recliner, bringing forth a layer of dust. He coughed and wiped the dust from his eyes. This place could definitely use the Resource’s cleaning crew.
All right, try again. The fire would work this time. It had to. He relaxed his muscles, letting himself sink into the recliner until he could feel the springs against his back. He closed his eyes and formed an image of the wooden coffee table a few feet in front of him. He imagined the grain of the wood underneath the polished varnish, imagined glowing embers and smoke rising, and pictured the glow flashing into blue flame. In his mind, the table was reduced to ashes in a matter of seconds.
Burn, baby, burn.
When he opened his eyes, the table was intact.
Fuck.
He kicked it. It wobbled. He snapped out of the chair, dropped to his knees, and pounded on the table with his fists. He pounded until his little fingers went numb. The table jolted back and forth from his abuse. Pain shot up his elbows from the force of his blows. Breathing hard, he stood and kicked the table over with as much force as he could muster.
It flipped over and skidded across the rug. He stomped over to it and kicked at the table legs, again and again. The wood splintered under the steel toes of his boots. He kept kicking until the legs were completely torn from their screws, until he began to feel the force of the blows through his boots.
He stopped, breathing heavily. Sweat rolled down his back, making the T-shirt stick to his skin.
Alec Farley, destroyer of tables.
Idiot.
All his flailing around had done was make his feet hurt.
He sat on the floor and put his head in his hands. What would Daz do? Get composure and start acting like a man, for one. Daz told him if he ever hit a stalemate, stop, think and review.
Review. He remembered sneaking out with Beth. He remembered getting in her hidden car. He definitely remembered that she drugged him. It had been more than a regular tranq too, because he’d felt something very strange inside his head before passing out. That was the second strange thing he’d felt this week, with the fuzzy weirdness the night at the docks being the first.
His best guess was that this drug had affected his fire. That meant once it wore off or he got the antidote, he’d have his fire back.
He stood, brushed the hair out of his face and fought to breathe slower and easier. Beth was the one who’d drugged him, she was the one who could get back the fire. Step one, get her, and then get the truth and the antidote from her, whatever it took.
Good plan, except he was locked in this basement and he had no idea where she was or if anyone would let him out. Presumably, if someone wanted to kill him, they would have. So likely someone would come for him at some point.
He stared at the heavy wooden door at the top of the steps. The locks were metal but it was a wooden door. Yesterday, he could have burned it to ashes in a few seconds or blasted it off the hinges with his TK.
Today he was completely useless. He closed his eyes, trying to avoid losing his cool again. Maybe there was something in here that he could use as a weapon against whoever came to talk to him. Or something he could use to pick the lock on the door. Maybe he could take the empty metal shelves apart.
A creak echoed down the stairway. The door began to open.
He rushed forward, tripped on the debris from the table, and fell. He cursed and skidded a few feet, burning his palms on the carpet. Dammit, I knew I was gonna regret that. He scrambled upright but his foot had only touched the third step before the person at the top of the stairs shut the door behind her.
Beth turned to face him.
“Counselor.” He clenched his hands into fists and began stalking up the steps. She damn well better have an explanation.
“Alec.” She put her hands up, as if to fend him off. “Your hands are bloody. What happened?”
“Like you don’t know.”
“Alec, I don’t—”
He bounded up the remaining steps and trapped her between his body and the door. Her hair was completely mussed and her yellow T-shirt was so thick with sweat it was almost a second skin. He could clearly see her breasts through the cotton. Her jeans were grass-stained and torn. The laces of her white sneakers were undone.
She didn’t look like a kidnapper. She didn’t look threatening. Of course, she never looked threatening to him since she was half his size.
He didn’t understand any of this.
He framed her head with his fists and leaned down to put them at eye level. She flinched, shrinking against the door, and bent her knees so she didn’t have to look at him.
If that wasn’t a confirmation of betrayal, he didn’
t know what was. Fuck.
“Open the door, Beth.”
He controlled his voice, just barely. His guts seemed twisted in a one horrific knot. He leaned in close to her delicate face, fleetingly thinking of how he’d found it the most beautiful thing in the world. He held his lips near hers in a mockery of the kiss they’d shared.
Her face flushed.
“Open sesame.” He slapped his hand right next to her ear.
“You have every right to be angry but, please, get control.”
“Oh, that’s rich, coming from a jailer.”
“I closed the door so we could talk safely. You’re not a prisoner.” Her eyes widened. “Is that what you think?”
“The hell I’m not.”
“You couldn’t get out? I thought you’d be able to use your TK on the locks, if you needed to.” She swallowed hard.
“Stop taunting me and open the damned door!”
“Okay.” She raised her hands to separate them. “Back up and give me room.”
Wary, he backed up just one step, anger still at a boil. She couldn’t really have thought he could open it. That had to be a lie.
Unless this was a test.
Lansing had played with his head before. Maybe this was a test of some drug that could control his fire more effectively than a temporary tranq. Lansing could have used Beth to set him up for it. She could be following Lansing’s orders, just like he usually did. His anger cooled a little. He unclenched his fists. Beth pulled a tiny plastic box from the back pocket of her jeans. The box made a low humming sound, the lock tumblers clicked, and the door swung open, as if by magic. An electronic door, with an electronic lock. Someone had planned ahead to hold him. That supported the test theory.
Well, he’d had enough. Lansing would pay for this one. Let’s see how he liked seeing that gorgeous oak desk of his reduced to ashes.
Alec rushed through the doorway, looking around for anything familiar. Instead, he was in a small, non-threatening hallway painted a pale blue, with a ceiling low enough that he felt claustrophobic. There were paintings of flowers hanging on the walls.
Phoenix Rising Page 7