He directed her to an elevator disguised as part of the central marble column, but again he kept his distance from her. The buttons and door were around the back. As the doors opened, Drake set her duffel inside. He pressed the button to hold the doors open.
She stepped inside. He didn’t.
“You’re not coming with me?”
He shook his head. “Work.”
“Did I piss you off about something, Drake?”
For a second, his stance softened. “No.” In a whisper, he added, “You never could.”
He reached under his jacket and took out his handgun, the one he’d used to kill the man earlier. “You put the other gun in my glove box. Keep this.” He held it out to her.
“Why? You said I was safe.”
“You are. But if you have the gun, perhaps you’ll believe me when I say no one will hurt you here.” He paused, all business now. “You have your cell phone—you can call anyone you want.”
She closed her hands around the gun. In his way, he was giving her power. She could sense that much about him. “Do you equate guns with safety, Drake?”
He frowned. “When people are shooting at me, yes.”
She shook her head. “Real safety is living in a place where people don’t shoot at each other.”
“I’m very glad you found one of those places.” Again, his voice was a raspy whisper.
“You could too.”
“No.”
“Safety comes from finding a home, not guns.”
He opened his mouth to say something but closed it without speaking. He stepped back. “You’ll like talking to Alec,” he said as the doors closed.
Just when she thought she had a handle on the man, he shut down, as if he’d never held her, never offered to carry her and never leaned in close to kiss her.
She zipped the handgun into her duffel, careful of the trigger. She knew some handguns didn’t have safeties, and she definitely knew Drake’s gun was loaded.
She should have stayed home. Then she could sleep in her own bed without the weight of a gun in her belongings.
She leaned against the wall for balance. Fine, desert me now, Drake. She shook her head and wondered exactly how seriously he took his promise to kill the men after her. It was wrong to wish them dead. Let her wish for the wrong thing, then. She was fine with it as long as her son was safe.
There was barely time to notice that the walls of the elevator were a warm bronze and the controls a bright silver before the elevator stopped and the doors opened on the top floor.
She stepped out into a softly lit hallway of pastel walls. An open door to the right beckoned her. She clutched her duffel tighter. If one more strange thing happened today, she was going to scream.
A young man walked through the doorway.
He smiled and, for a brief second, Del was reminded of Genet. This man was just as attractive in his way, exuding a charisma that was palpable. A wisp of his jet-black hair hung in his eyes. The black T-shirt and jeans hugged his skin tightly enough that she could see his muscles ripple as he walked.
If nothing else, this place was full of gorgeous men.
He took the duffel from her. “Del Sefton, right?” He smiled.
There was no smugness, no arrogance in that smile. His resemblance to Genet faded. She nodded. “Yes, that’s me.”
“I’m Alec Farley. This way. I have some hot tea brewing,” he said, leading her into the door. “Beth says tea always relaxes her. I thought it might help you.” He frowned. “Where’s Drake?”
“He said he had work to do and that you’d answer questions better than him.”
“Hah.” Alec set her duffel carefully on the kitchen counter. “He’s right on that. Did you get more out of him than grunts?”
“He danced.”
“You’re kidding?”
“No. He’s a good dancer. I think he was trying to charm me so I’d believe him.”
Alec nodded. “Playing a role, then?”
“I guess.” So grunt mode was Drake’s normal way of dealing with people. Even after he’d told her the truth, he’d been more open than that. For a while.
“Sit down. You must be tired.”
She settled in a warm brown leather chair and suppressed a smile. If the lobby had been ordered yet relaxing, this room reminded her of a teenager’s game room. A huge television dominated one wall. Below it, a case held several different game systems, speakers and various other electronics she didn’t recognize. Man toys.
“You picked the best chair in the place.” Alec handed her a mug of tea. “Beth says this is a relaxing blend. I figure it’s better for you than coffee.”
“So long as it doesn’t have caffeine.” She examined the mug. It was decorated with Japanese symbols.
“Those are Japanese words that can be translated as ‘restful’.” Alec settled onto the long couch opposite her. “At least that’s what Beth claims.”
“That’s the third time you’ve mentioned this Beth.” Del sipped the tea. A hint of lemon, a hint of chamomile, and something sweet. Whoever Beth was, her tea was lovely.
“Beth is Drake’s daughter. And my girlfriend.”
His face lit up. Lucky Beth. So why had Drake shut down when talking about her? “So Beth is good to have around?”
“If Drake didn’t tell you about Beth or brag about her, he was being even more tightlipped than usual.”
“He mentioned his daughter. Just not her name.”
“No more information than necessary. Now that sounds exactly like Drake.”
At least someone else was as confused by Drake as she was. She drank down another swallow and felt herself sink deeper into the chair as her muscles relaxed. “Drake said I’d never believe the full truth about my baby but that you could convince me he wasn’t crazy.”
“Drake is crazy.” Alec stood. “I doubt I’ll change your mind about that. But I think he was talking about your baby and how it was conceived. He’s right, that is a crazy story, but it’s also true.”
“He said I was impregnated with sperm that was genetically altered.” She was surprised that came out so calmly. “He didn’t have any explanation for why anyone would do that or what the hell kind of experiment it was. He didn’t answer me about why my baby is so special.”
“That’s because you wouldn’t believe him.” Alec picked up a football sitting on the floor of a corner of the room.
“And I’ll believe you?”
He tossed the football in the air and caught it. “Most people do.”
Alec picked up one of the Sports Illustrated magazines that littered the coffee table. “So, let’s do this.”
“Do what?” Del said.
“Beth says I should explain to people about my fire before I use it. She says they’ll get less freaked. If you’ve spent the day with Drake and you can sit there and drink tea calmly and without being hysterical, I think you can handle it. Besides, no matter how many words I use, they never do the fire justice.”
A lunatic. Drake had bought her to the home of a rambling lunatic.
He held up the copy of Sports Illustrated. “Nothing up my sleeves, right?”
“You have no sleeves.”
“Exactly. Look, it’ll be better if you hold my hand while I do this. That way you don’t have to worry that I’m doing something sneaky.” He held out a hand and smiled. “Trust me, Del Sefton? I promise, it’ll be worth the show.”
Charm to spare, this one, and he wasn’t playing a role, she sensed, as Drake had done. She wondered if Alec was a violent lunatic. She stood and took his hand. It was callused, warm and strong, but his grip was gentle enough.
“What kind of birds do you like?” he asked.
“What?”
“Just tell me.”
She thought of the bird soaring in the sky at the lake. “Hawks.”
“Great. Watch,” he said.
In his other hand, the Sports Illustrated magazine began to smoke. She flinched. Alec gri
pped her hand tighter and grinned.
“Oh, God!” She was with a pyromaniac. She tried to pull away but Alec held her tight.
A flame shot up from the center of the magazine and then the whole thing went up in flames. Her mouth fell open. How the hell did he start that fire?
She looked at Alec. He didn’t acknowledge her. He stared at the fire, his face frozen into a partial smile, his jaw clenched tight.
She coughed. Run, there’s fire! her body screamed at her. Alec gripped her hand tighter, preventing her escape. A little squeaky noise came from deep in her throat. She looked at the flames. If the carpet or the curtains caught on fire…
As the magazine dissolved into ashes, the flames rose higher, taking shape. She nearly bit through her tongue. The fire looked like a sparkling ball at first, but it quickly grew wings and sprouted a birdlike head and clawed feet. The fiery bird spread its wings, sending heat blasting at her, warming her face.
The flame creature opened its mouth in a soundless cry.
A fire hawk.
The fire hawk rose and hovered a few inches from the ceiling. It spread its wings wider and flew around the living room several times, blasting heated air over her. The fire creature grew smaller and smaller with each circle around the room. After the fourth time, it landed on the rocking chair and vanished.
Alec let her hand go. “Cool, huh?”
“Warm, rather.” She collapsed back into the chair. She swallowed, trying to moisten her dry mouth. “That was…that was… You…”
Alec let the ashes of the magazine fall onto the coffee table.
“That’s…”
“Astonishing? Cool? Awesome?” Alec had crossed his arms over his chest and was grinning like he’d just pulled an elaborate joke.
“How can you do that?” It couldn’t have been a trick. She knew what she’d seen. She didn’t believe it but she’d seen it all the same. She rubbed her wrist where Alec had held her.
“I’m a telekinetic and a firestarter.” He pointed at the football he’d set down on the couch. It came to him, as if tossed to him by invisible hands. “Technically, telekinesis and firestarting are about the same thing, since what I’m doing with the fire is moving molecules with my brain, just like telekinesis. I’m just moving them much faster.” He tossed the football back to the couch. “The fire is more fun, though.”
“What you did is impossible.”
“That’s what makes it so cool. Want another demonstration?”
She shook her head, wishing she could disappear into the chair. “Who are you? What is the Phoenix Institute?”
“I’m Alec. Just Alec.” He sat down on the couch. “The Phoenix Institute is a place to teach and help those with abilities like mine. I had to learn how to control my fire when I was a kid or else I could have burned down everything around me. I want the Institute to be a place where telekinetics and other psychics can come to be trained in safety.” He put his elbows on his knees. “They need to know they’re not freaks and that they can have normal lives.”
“You’re not normal.”
“Nope.” He leaned back. “Besides my fire, I never had a normal life. The man who used to run this place raised me from a child and trained me in my power. He wanted to turn me into a weapon under his command. He wanted a whole army of super soldiers like me eventually.”
Alec began to explain his past. Del wasn’t sure when she hit overload. It was either when Alec explained he was both head of the Phoenix Institute and part of an elite combat team that was often deployed against extraordinary threats or when he talked about his girlfriend, the telepath, Drake’s daughter.
Her blank look must have registered something to Alec.
“You can look it up,” Alec said. “F-Team stopped the bomb in New York Harbor last spring.”
“The one where there was a huge explosion in the sky?”
“That’s the one,” Alec said. “The bomb detonated before I could stop it, so with Beth’s help, I pushed the explosion up into the sky. Our psychic connection enhanced my power and I needed every bit of what she gave me. It was very close.”
“Beth helped you? Is she a firestarter and a telepath?”
“No. Like I said, she’s a telepath, but she’s also a catalyst. Twice now, when she’s come into contact with other psychics, she increased their abilities.” He pointed to her empty mug. “Hey, do you want a refill on that tea?”
“How about a do-over on today. I go home, sleep, and when I wake up, none of this ever happened.”
Alec laughed. “I think I’m insulted. Though if you want to forget Drake, be my guest.”
He took her mug from her before she could object, walked to the kitchen, and came back out again with the promised refill.
Put some whiskey in it, she thought. But whiskey would be bad for the baby. “So you’re a firestarter, Beth is a telepath and Drake is crazy. And the Phoenix Institute is a place to train people with powers so their abilities are under control.”
“You’ve got it, mostly, except as far as I’ve been able to determine, most of the powers have a psychic source, like moving molecules with the mind, or telepathy.”
She held the hot mug in her hands. “What does that have to do with me? Why am I involved in this? I’m not anything special.”
Alec sighed. “The man who owned this place, Richard Lansing, was the one who trained me to be a weapon. It’s all he wanted me to be.” Alec looked away. “But he wanted more like me under his command and he got tired of just looking for them. He decided to create them himself. So he founded a genetics lab. He took samples from everyone he knew with special abilities and told the lab to get to work developing viable enhancements.” He stared at her. “That’s where your baby comes in. We think he’s the first successful experiment.”
“He’s not an experiment. No matter how he got there, he’s my son,” she snapped.
“I’m sorry. You’re right. This is your baby.”
“Does this Lansing want him?”
“No, Lansing is dead,” Alec said flatly. “I wish I’d found it sooner, but the lab kept working even after he died. I inherited everything but he had a lot of properties owned under shell companies and stuff like that. I didn’t find Orion Systems until yesterday. When I went there with Drake, a bomb went off in the middle of our visit. We think Genet planted it.”
“Who is Genet, really?”
“We don’t know. He knew enough about what was going on with Orion to pretend to be the new owner. Maybe he knew Lansing and was part of the plan and carried it out on his own. Maybe he’s working with someone else. We just don’t know.” Alec stood up and began pacing. “I’m going to find out, though. That’s probably where Drake went. He doesn’t need much sleep.”
Her heart was beating so fast it threatened to jump out of her chest. Yet she had no energy to get out of the chair. She closed her eyes. “Why the hell did they pick me for it? I’m nobody.”
“We don’t know. I wish we did. Do you have anyone in your family who’s got some kind of uncanny sense? Anyone who seems to know what people are going to do before they do it?”
She frowned. “My mother is from a long line of preachers who could whip up a sermon like no one’s business. I was little when my grandfather died, but I remember the one time I attended his church. He had the people in the palm of his hand in a half hour, ready to accept Jesus Christ as their lord and savior.”
“Huh. I don’t know if that qualifies as psychic, at least it doesn’t sound like anything anyone could use as a weapon.” Alec knelt down in front of her. “I don’t want to use your kid, Del. I just want him to grow up happy, with his mother. That’s all I want.” He cupped a hand in front of her. The air itself turned to flame. “Do you trust me?”
“I’m not sure I trust my own brain at this moment. It’s telling me I need to believe impossible stuff.”
“Put your fingers in the flames above my hand,” Alec whispered. “I won’t hurt you.”
&nbs
p; She swallowed. I have to know. She stuck her fingers right into the flames, expecting searing pain.
She felt the heat. The flames danced around her but they didn’t hurt her. Alec waved his hand and the fire disappeared.
“Oh.”
Alec tilted his head. “You didn’t run out of here screaming. I like you.”
“Hah.” He didn’t look like a hallucination. He sure talked like one. “Is my baby a firestarter like you? What kind of special abilities will he have?”
“We don’t know that yet, either. Orion Systems was working with three sperm samples. One of them was mine. If your baby is from my genes, he could be dangerous to himself and to you. I couldn’t control my fire completely until I was three. I could show your baby.” He knelt in front of her. “I don’t know how to be a father but I learn fast.”
“I bet you do.” She smiled. Argh. She liked the madman. If he was the biological father—if father was the right word here—he would make a far better father than, say, Hawk’s stepfather.
Alec nodded and reached out with his hand. “Could I…” He cleared his throat. “Could I touch him?”
Alec’s eyes were wide and open. She took his hand and put it over her swollen abdomen.
“He’s not moving,” she said. “At least, not that I can tell yet.”
Alec looked at her intently. “He’s moving. I can feel it with my telekinesis.” He drew his hand back. “Thank you. I know you don’t know me and that you never asked for this, but if the baby’s mine or even if he’s not, I want to help.”
Before today, her son didn’t have a father. Now he might have three. This just kept getting better and better.
“Where did the other two sperm samples come from?”
“A sample from Lansing himself and—”
“Was he a firestarter too?” Would her baby be better off with a dead man as his father?
“No, Lansing had the ability to heal his body of injuries or old age. He basically psychically kept his body from aging. He was effectively immortal and about two hundred years old when he died.”
“If he was immortal, how’d he die?”
“He got shot in the op where we shut down the bomb in New York Harbor. He lost blood too fast for him to heal.”
Phoenix Legacy Page 10