The dregs all exchanged glances.
Noah tapped my shoulder and held his phone out to me. “Found the source of the email to your mother.”
I glanced at his phone.
“Mary Ellington?” I whispered. Shit. “Ellington’s wife?”
“Looks that way. But is she one of the good guys or one of the bad guys?”
“Does she mention what information she has?”
Noah swiped the screen, then tapped on a link. He read it, then glanced at me.
“No. And I’m not sure if she’s a reliable source, anyway. She might be helping her husband. Or she might be trying to turn him in for all his evil deeds. Either way, we can’t trust her.”
I nodded. “But I’m curious to see what information she might have.” Because she’d apparently been in contact with my mom all these years.
“Me, too,” Noah admitted. He typed something on his phone, then glanced at me. “I asked her to send over the information. Now we wait for her response.”
I felt Luke’s gaze on me again, scrutinizing. I didn’t think he’d heard our conversation, since we’d moved away from the others. But the look in his eyes was now cautious. Uneasiness washed over me again. What was going on?
Mateo started to laugh again, his gaze zeroing in on me. What was so funny?
I glanced at Luke again. He was still watching me closely. Too closely. What the hell?
I lifted my chin. “What?”
He shrugged, glancing back at Mateo, and that only made me even more uneasy. What was going on with him? He hadn’t been acting like himself ever since he got back.
Noah tapped my arm. “She responded,” he whispered, holding his phone out to me.
Mrs. Ellington’s response was short. Three sentences.
He’s not who he seems. Be careful. He has a twin.
A chill crept down my spine. No fucking way. Noah and I exchanged a long, meaningful glance. Shit.
I jerked my gaze to Mateo.
“Get him up!” I shouted. “Make him walk.”
Luke sent me another questioning look, but I no longer trusted he was Luke anymore. He wasn’t acting normal. And I knew him better than anyone. He had to be an imposter.
Tony stepped forward when Luke didn’t move—which was also out of character for him—yanking Mateo out of the chair. “Walk!” he ordered.
Mateo took a step forward, then another, his gaze filling with caution. He wasn’t limping. He wasn’t flinching at all. Hadn’t Tracker shot him in the leg?
I glanced at Tracker. “Didn’t you shoot him in the leg?”
Tracker’s gaze narrowed. “Yeah. Right calf.”
“Was he limping when you found him on the side of the road?”
Tracker and Jacob exchanged a glance. “Yeah, but he had cuts and bruises and other injuries from a car crash.”
I marched forward, reaching for his right pant leg. He tried to jerk away, but Nate and Tony both grabbed him, forcing him to stay still.
I lifted the pants.
No wound. Not even a scar.
I jerked my gaze to Luke. Our gazes locked. He looked like Luke. But the uneasy swirl in my gut told me he wasn’t Luke. I didn’t feel our dreg bond that normally flowed between us. I hadn’t felt it at all since I’d arrived here.
My blood turned cold. If he wasn’t Luke, then where was Luke? What had they done to him?
He’s not who he seems. Be careful. He has a twin.
Noah’s phone buzzed and he turned away from me to answer it. He listened for a moment. Then he murmured something into his phone and turned back to me. “That was Shannon,” he whispered. “She found another recruit with abilities identical to Ellington’s. His name is Matt.”
Matt.
Shit.
Ellington had a “cousin” named Matt.
Except, Matt wasn’t his cousin.
He was his fucking twin.
Son-of-a-bitch. There were two of them with the same abilities. They’d fooled us. Royally.
I pulled my gaze back to Luke.
And one of them was impersonating my dreg partner.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Ryan
My first instinct was to lunge at the Luke imposter and torture the truth out of him. But then my training kicked in, reminding me not to react emotionally. Caution warned me to think this through first. Every action has a reaction. I didn’t want to do anything that might endanger Luke or the other dregs.
If Luke was injured or dead, I would have felt it through our dreg bond. Which meant they hadn’t wounded or killed him yet. Right now, I couldn’t feel anything from him. If I hadn’t been so focused on punishing Mateo, I probably would have realized sooner that Luke wasn’t himself. Now that I knew, I had to figure out what to do with this new knowledge.
Why hadn’t they injured or killed Luke? The most logical explanation was because I would know through our dreg bond if Luke was hurt or injured, which would alert me to the fact that this Luke was an imposter. And they wouldn’t be able to fool me like they’d managed to do for the past few minutes. Which meant they were only keeping him alive to dupe the rest of us. Or they had some other plan for Luke.
I glanced around uneasily, my gaze skimming every corner, every dark space in the old building, searching for danger. Had they brought an army here to take us out? Had they rigged the building with explosives? This would be a perfect way to kill all of the dregs. Get us all together in an abandoned building, then…boom! Blow the place up.
I needed to secretly let the others know of the deception. Wherever Luke was, whatever they’d done with him, he would only remain alive so long as they believed I didn’t know about their deception.
But the rest of us might not remain alive long enough to find and save him. I had to be very careful what I did right now.
Noah exchanged another glance with me, letting me know he was thinking the same thing I was. What had they done to Luke? Where was he? Were we all in danger here?
“Easy,” he whispered. “Don’t blow this. We can’t risk Luke’s life. We don’t know where he is yet. Do you feel any pain from him?”
I shook my head. “No. They must have drugged him or something. But how did they get to him? He was with Tracker and Jacob.”
“I doubt they had eyes on each other all the time,” Noah whispered. “When they stopped for fuel and snacks, they could have gone into the store separately. We’ll have to ask them. It would only take a few seconds for someone to hit Luke with a tranquilizer dart or knock him out or something, and then make the switch. We’ll have to figure out why Tracker and Jacob didn’t realize it wasn’t really him. We’ll have to ask them what happened on their trip.”
I was going with the tranquilizer dart theory, as I hadn’t felt any physical pain from Luke, like a headache that might indicate he’d been knocked out. They’d probably drugged him, and he was still unconscious, wherever he was.
Son-of-a-bitch. We needed to find Luke. I needed to get Tracker away from the others and ask him to see if he could locate Luke. In the meantime, Noah could secretly alert the other dregs to what was going on.
“I’ll take Tracker and go find Luke. You let the others know what’s going on.”
Noah nodded.
I glanced at Tracker, trying to catch his eye, but he was turned away from me.
The Luke imposter grabbed Ellington’s arm and pulled him back toward the chair. “Sit! I’m not done with you yet.” He was a good actor—the bastard!—hurting his twin to fool us.
I kept looking at Tracker, waiting for him to glance my way. Noah, in the meantime, managed to catch Logan’s eye. Logan came forward, a question in his eyes.
“Luke’s an imposter,” Noah whispered to Logan. “Ellington has a twin. We need to warn the others. We don’t know which one of them is Ellington and which one is his twin.”
“Shit,” Logan murmured, his gaze darting to mine. “Is Luke…?”
“I’m not getting anything from him,”
I admitted, “so I’m hopeful that he’s okay.”
“That’s good.” Logan turned back to the others. “Let’s make sure ‘Mateo’ is secured before we try to take down the imposter.” He strode back toward the others. Noah glanced at me, then followed Logan. They helped secure Mateo to the chair while the Luke imposter glanced over at me again. This time, there was definite malice in his eyes. I hadn’t imagined it earlier. If I hadn’t already known he wasn’t Luke, then that look alone would have alerted me to the truth.
He smirked at me, and a chill crept down my spine. They’d done something. Something terrible.
I had to act now, before it was too late.
I yanked my gun free and pointed it at the imposter’s head. “Where is he?” I growled. “What the fuck did you do to Luke?”
The other dregs stilled, the ones who hadn’t known now staring at me in shock. Then, gradually, comprehension dawned in their eyes. They all yanked their weapons free. Half of them pointed their guns at Mateo, while the other half joined me and pointed their guns at the Luke imposter.
“He’s a twin,” I announced. “They have identical abilities.”
The Luke imposter laughed. “Fools! All of you! You’re all going down.”
Mateo cackled. “I told you I wasn’t working alone.”
Mateo had a BOLO out on him, and Ellington was being hunted by the FBI. But how would law enforcement ever catch them if they were constantly changing their faces?
Son-of-a-bitch! Then I recalled what Liz had told me about Mateo not being able to control the shifting if he was wounded, that it required too much energy. I would make sure he couldn’t change, so he couldn’t fool anyone else.
I launched myself at Mateo, knocking the chair over as I slammed into him and repeatedly pummeled him in the face, over and over, until the skin tore on my knuckles and my fingers bled. The other dregs didn’t stop me. They just waited, their guns all pointed at the Luke imposter to keep him at bay.
Finally, I leaned back, catching my breath. Mateo moaned softly, his face a bloody mess. I should just kill him, but we might need him for answers. He needed to tell us where Luke was. “They can’t control the shifting or change their faces if they’re wounded,” I rasped out, glancing up at the other dregs.
Tony smirked, taking a step toward the Luke imposter.
The outer door slammed in, banging against the wall with a loud crash!
A swarm of armed men decked out in tactical gear rushed into the room, quickly surrounding us.
“Freeze!” a guy in the lead shouted. “FBI! Drop your weapons now!”
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
Ryan
I hesitated, exchanging glances with the other dregs. Ellington and his twin had led us right into a trap.
They’d figured out they couldn’t kill us on their own, so they’d somehow lured the FBI here. They must have followed us the other night. How else would they know where we would go for the interrogation? Ellington and his twin probably shared a bond similar to what the dregs shared with their partners. It was possible they could even communicate telepathically like Jacob could do with his daughter. The Luke impersonator could have easily called the FBI and told them where to find us.
That brought my thoughts back to Luke. Though he could read some people’s minds—mine in particular—I, unfortunately couldn’t read his. I tried again to connect with Luke through our dreg bond, to see if I could feel anything from him, but I got nothing. And that only made my worry increase. Was he okay?
Did the FBI already have Luke in custody?
“Drop your weapons now!” the man repeated.
It went against our training to surrender. But none of us wanted to harm the good guys. Besides, fighting back would be foolish. We were not only outnumbered, but if we refused to surrender, we would likely be shot down. Killed.
This was probably the worst possible thing that could have happened, besides dying. Every one of us in this room had a family now, a woman who loved him, and some of my dreg brothers had children. Some had mothers, and others had sisters whom they’d never met.
My heart pinched as I thought of my own mother. This would kill her. Finding me, then losing me again. Oh, Mom.
And Liz. My smart, sweet, brave girl. How would we have our future if I went to prison for the rest of my life?
None of us wanted to go down this way. But we weren’t idiots. It was surrender, or die.
We all slowly lowered our guns, setting them at our feet, and raising our hands in the air.
The armed men rushed forward, tackling us down onto the concrete floor, yanking our hands behind our backs and cuffing us. When the officer who was cuffing me realized I had a prosthetic, he paused.
“Careful,” I murmured, “or you’ll pull my prosthetic off and I might get away.” I winked.
He glowered at me, indecision flickering across his face. Then he dragged me across the room and cuffed my arm to the metal railing of the stairwell.
Okay, then…
The officers ushered all the other dregs over to stand beside me, lining us all up along the wall of the staircase. The Luke impersonator was also cuffed and ordered to stand with the rest of us. While several of the officers kept their guns pointed at us, the man in charge approached. He couldn’t be any older than thirty. He was a little on the shorter side, standing only around five-foot-eight or nine. All of us dwarfed him by at least six or seven inches, but he didn’t appear to be intimidated. He walked down the line, pausing in front of each of us, eyeing us up and down.
“So you’re the dregs, huh? I’ll admit you’re an impressive bunch, but I gotta say, I was expecting a fight from you. I was told to bring as many men as I could because you wouldn’t be easy to take down.” He paused in front of me, his gaze taking in my prosthetic. He shook his head. “I’m a little disappointed that you all surrendered. I was hoping I could kill at least a couple of you.”
Tony huffed and rolled his eyes. Nate sent him a warning look that silenced him. The rest of us remained quiet and unmoving.
Awaiting our fate.
“Let me out of this chair!” Mateo shouted. “These men are killers! Murderers! Look what they did to me! Bastards!”
The FBI agent-in-charge turned to him. “And who are you?”
Mateo puffed out his chest. “I’m a prisoner obviously. They kidnapped me and tortured me! They need to be punished. Now, let me go!”
This time, I huffed. “Don’t believe that lying sack of shit. He has a BOLO out on him for attempting to kill me and for kidnapping my girlfriend.”
Mateo sent me a fierce glare, but this time, I smirked at him. He couldn’t change his appearance right now, so he wouldn’t get out of this one. He did have a BOLO out on him, and as long as he couldn’t change, he couldn’t become someone else.
The man in charge spun around to face me. He sized me up, then strode forward to pause before me. “He is tied to a chair,” he pointed out. “And he does look like someone roughed him up a bit.”
I held the man’s gaze. “Like I said, he has a BOLO out on him. Go ahead. Check it out.”
The man grunted and pulled his phone out of his pocket. Then he barked into the phone, “I need you to check for a BOLO on a Hispanic male, early twenties, in Oklahoma City.” He listened a moment, then his eyebrows shot up. “Thanks.” He stuffed the phone back in his pocket and met my gaze. “You’re right. He’s wanted.” He motioned to another officer. “Cuff him.”
Mateo protested while he was handcuffed and hauled to his feet. His fierce glare bored into me the entire time. I smiled at him. How does it feel to be bested, you little prick?
The man in charge glanced down the row at each of my dreg brothers again. “My name is Bill Masterson. I’m the special agent-in-charge. You all have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand the rights I ha
ve just read to you?” He glanced around at each of us. No one answered. “With these rights in mind, do any of you wish to speak to me?”
“What, exactly, are we being arrested for?” I asked.
Agent Masterson looked me in the eye. “Multiple counts of murder.” He turned away. “Load ‘em up!” he shouted. “And that means all of them. Him, too.” He motioned at Mateo.
They un-cuffed me from the railing, then cuffed my hand to the dreg standing closest to me—who just happened to be Tony—before ushering us all out of the building and toward a prisoner transport van.
Our freedom had just been ripped away from us, and if they could get the charges to stick, we were about to become prisoners once again.
This time, for good.
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
Ryan
Tony turned and caught my eye as they shoved us into the van. Tony was a magician and an escape artist. He could get out of just about anything. Handcuffs were a piece of cake for him.
With that look, he was telling me he would escape, and in the process, I would be free. Together, we would have to figure out how to free the rest of our dreg brothers.
Escape our FBI transport.
Find and free Luke before it was too late.
Then flee before we were recaptured and locked up forever.
And, oh yeah, without killing any of the good guys.
Piece of cake.
The man in charge and one other officer slammed the doors and locked us all in, then went around the front and climbed in. There was a security camera mounted on the top inside of the van that allowed the driver and his passenger up front to view any activity in the back. They could observe our every move without putting themselves in danger.
The van jerked forward, pulling away from the building.
Suddenly, as if the van’s movements had activated my dreg bond with Luke, an overwhelming anguish spiraled through me, so powerful it made me gasp and lean forward in agony. Holy shit. Luke was in pain. Not physical pain, but a fierce mental and emotional misery. What the hell were they doing to him?
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