by Devyn Quinn
While Tessa was capable enough, Addison was still the weak link. As the youngest, she was still searching for control over her abilities. Once she matured, Addison would surely surpass both her older sisters, easily and without question.
But her time hadn’t come yet.
I’m going to have to do this, she thought. And it scared the living bejesus out of her. Not because she didn’t know how to control it, but because she did.
When she was a small child, her mother had taken her aside and warned her to be careful with the gift brewing inside her. Gwen, her mother had told her, was different. She struggled with her identity and it tormented her. The Mer in her wanted to come out and wouldn’t be denied.
It was a battle she fought every day of her life. The best she could do was keep a leash and a muzzle on the dark, black entity. For the most part, she succeeded.
But the Mer inside was always there, straining to break free.
Gwen had vowed never to use her power against anyone, but now she had no choice. It was a matter of life and death and their time was running out. She had to protect her kindred, no matter the cost. Given a few more heated blasts, that door would buckle like a plate-glass window hit by a semitruck.
A massacre was sure to follow.
A nervous sweat trickled down Gwen’s spine, but she ignored the discomfort. Her nerves were already on edge. Overthink her plan now and she’d lose it.
“You and Addison pull from Ken,” she ordered Tessa. “Then link to me. Pulling from you three, I should be able to get me and Whittaker out of the basement.”
Tessa’s brows rose in surprise. “Both of you?” she spluttered. “We could maybe transport one, but two—no way.”
Gwen fixed her sister with a level stare. “Right now we really haven’t got a lot of choices,” she warned in a low voice that brooked no argument. “We’d better try it before they think of the same thing.”
“It’s risky, Gwen,” Tessa warned. “Do you even know what you have in mind?”
Gwen stared directly into her sister’s eyes. She refused to be intimidated or talked out of the notion simply because it was dangerous. If anyone was going to take the risk, she’d be the one to do it.
“Just trust me and do what I say.”
It was the strangest thing Blake had ever seen in his life. He’d seen people panic in the face of an emergency, but he’d never seen them sit down.
He watched as Addison, Tessa, and Kenneth positioned themselves on the floor. Kenneth sat cross-legged, hands resting on his knees like some kind of guru. He blew out a nervous breath. “Oh, man. This isn’t going to be easy.”
Tessa knelt to his left. “Addison and I will carry as much as we can.”
Addison settled down on his right side. “I’m not sure I can do this, Tess. I’ve never done D’ema before.” She spoke in a slightly strained voice. The remarkable calm she’d shown in the face of the attack seemed to be wavering. “I’ve only taken energy out of crystals.”
Tessa made a motion. “I’ll pull the energy from Ken, then push to you. You double it and push to Gwen. After that, she’s on her own.”
Gwen nodded. “Just get me a boost. I’ll do the rest.”
“This might not work,” Tessa warned.
“It’ll work.”
Though he wasn’t sure what would happen, Blake hoped whatever they had in mind would come off without a hitch. That mention Addison had made about materializing inside of a wall didn’t exactly sound appealing.
Think of it this way, came the whisper in the back of his mind. You’re actually getting to see an alien life force in action.
It wasn’t the most comforting thought he could have had. The only thing he knew—or thought he knew—about mermaids was that they had tails and swam. Some lore even had them singing songs so alluring that sailors would drive their ships aground.
He frowned. And then they drown the crew.
Blake glanced toward Gwen. Gone was the uncertainty and discomfort she’d earlier displayed. Like a businesswoman making a company decision, she’d taken control and was calling the shots. That alone intensified his attraction tenfold.
Looking at her, he felt his heart clutch behind his rib cage. She was brave, beautiful, and totally awesome.
Yet even as he admired her, his guts twisted. If Gwen and her sisters could really do what they claimed, the implications spoke volumes. No doubt the A51-ASD scientists would classify them as a level five, the most dangerous of aliens thus far encountered. Most aliens held in cold storage were classified as level three at most.
He frowned. And that was because they were deceased. Cadavers, even alien ones, usually didn’t present too much of a problem.
Blake recoiled from the gruesome notion. He didn’t want to think about what would happen to Gwen and her sisters once the sciences division pulled them into custody.
And they would.
Because it was his job to turn the Mer over.
Blake wiped a hand across his clammy brow. His tongue passed over papery lips. Shit. “Just do what you have to.” The words slipped out before he could check them. This situation was going to get worse before it got better. He had no choice but to play it through to the end.
Gwen mistook his words of self-reproach for encouragement. “Everybody link up,” she ordered.
Tessa put one hand on her husband’s face. “Press your fingers to his temple, Addie,” she instructed, showing her sister the correct touch.
Addison followed the instructions. “I’ll try not to hurt you,” she told Kenneth.
Kenneth drew a deep breath and closed his eyes.
“Been through this before.” He winced. “Hurts like hell, but I’ll survive.”
Tessa held out her hand toward Gwen. “Your turn.”
Addison offered hers. “Let’s do this.”
Gwen glanced over her shoulder to Whittaker. “Grab on to me and hold tight.”
Shoving the tranq gun in the holster his service weapon had previously occupied, Blake moved up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders.
Gwen pressed back against him. “Hang on tight and don’t let go,” she breathed. “Focus your energy, girls. Push it out and let us have it.”
At first Blake felt nothing.
Then it happened. A pressure pushing against his skin, like the beginning of a ferocious wind. The surface of his skin began to heat up, bringing with it a tight, prickling feeling. The sensation spread over his body like a layer of plastic cling wrap.
And then it started to burn.
Kenneth groaned. “Oh, God, that hurts . . .” His voice trailed off in a long, low moan of agony.
Although his instinct was to immediately push away from Gwen, Blake held on, forcing himself to tighten his grip on her body. A crazy mix of fear and anticipation coursed through him.
Gwen stiffened beneath his hold, writhing against him in discomfort. A cry broke from her lips. “Push harder, girls. I need more.”
Another red-hot wave of heat rolled over Blake’s body. Molten claws of energy latched onto his skin, clutching through his flesh to connect with bone. His heart thudded fast and hard, barreling painfully against his rib cage.
Blake’s chest seized as he sucked in a lungful of air. He threw back his head to cry out, but there was no way his scream could pass through clenched teeth. A cold, damp sweat rose on his skin. The heat was beginning to turn to ice. He trembled under the onslaught of arctic sensations. For a moment he half expected his blood to freeze in his veins.
It was Gwen who cried out in a heroic push. Her cry echoed throughout the small room, crashing against the walls. A white-hot flash blasted out of nowhere, heading toward them at supersonic speed.
Blake barely had time to flinch and shut his eyes before the explosion hit. Every nerve in his body went haywire, his senses temporarily short-circuiting. The floor beneath his feet vanished.
Then everything went pitch-black.
The tumble through darkness was bri
ef and abrupt.
Blake landed hard. Stumbling forward, he fell, landing on his hands and knees. He clenched his eyes shut and tried to block the dizzying vibrations flowing along every nerve ending. It didn’t work. His stomach lurched, sending a wave of acid up his throat. He heaved, gagging as the taste of bitter coffee rolled past his lips.
Head spinning in all directions, Blake struggled to climb to his feet. His movements were clumsy, like those of a man who’d had way too much alcohol. He felt numb and strangely detached, as if every molecule in his being had been ripped into tiny little pieces. His veins throbbed beneath his skin.
Vision focusing, he searched for and found Gwen. She stood a few feet away. Hands pressed against her stomach, her face was dead white. Mouth open, she was gulping in great breaths of air.
Blake drew in a breath of head-clearing oxygen. The fuzziness lingering around the edges of his brain began to fade. “I never want to do that again,” he gasped. His limbs still trembled like an aged and elderly man, but at least he could control them.
Gwen nodded, pressing her hands against her face. “I feel like I’ve just been run through a shredder.”
A smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. That pretty much summed it up. He decided to stick to conventional transportation methods from now on.
Summoning his strength, Blake glanced around. “Wow.” A low whistle broke from his throat. “We’re outside.”
Gwen’s hands dropped. “I didn’t mean to take us this far.” They’d traveled at least five hundred feet, maybe more.
Struggling to regain his balance, Blake forced back the unpleasant feelings. Pushing his body past its endurance was part of an agent’s training. Now was no time to crumble under the strain.
He reached for the tranq gun. “Better get back inside.” He eyed Gwen. “You can stay here if you want.”
Gritting her teeth, she shook her head. “No. Let’s go get those bitches.”
They hurried toward the house. The back door didn’t exist anymore. Neither did a lot of the house. The entire bottom floor was in ruins, furniture overturned, walls blasted down to the bare frame. The hostile Mer had come through with the destructive efficiency of a tornado hitting ground. Nothing in their path was spared.
The sound of concrete crumbling issued up from the basement. A woman’s scream of pain tore through the air.
Without considering any real plan for his actions, Blake whipped down the stairs with Gwen nipping at his heels. The basement was narrow, poorly lit.
Gun at the ready, he skidded to a halt, searching the scene. Holy shit! Part of the rear wall was gone, door and all.
One of the strangely dressed Mer lay amid the rubble. Her body was contorted and it took Blake a second to realize she’d literally been cut in half. Tessa had a Ri’kah and she’d used it with cold efficiency.
It hadn’t been enough, though.
The safe room had been invaded.
Blake caught a glimpse inside the chaos.
Tessa struggled between two of the Mer holding her, whipping back and forth in an attempt to keep them from subduing her. Curses and threats punctuated her efforts.
Blake had to give her credit. She was doing a stellar job of giving her captors hell.
He eased a little closer.
Kenneth lay nearby. Whether he was unconscious or dead, Blake couldn’t tell for sure.
Addison had the worst of it. Back against the wall, her hands were raised in a futile attempt to ward off the death strike one of the hostile Mers was preparing to deliver. At that distance there was no way her would-be assassin could miss her target. She raised her Ri’kah and prepared to deliver the fatal strike.
“Don’t touch my sister, you bitch!” Gwen shrieked.
Addison’s assailant whirled on her heel. She leveled her weapon, preparing to take down the new threat. She fired, unleashing a bolt of pure energy.
Blake simultaneously raised his weapon. Puny as it was, it was all he had. Oh, fuck me! It wasn’t enough.
He stood right in the path of the oncoming discharge. No way the Mer could miss him, either. He didn’t have a chance of succeeding, but he had to take it anyway.
A series of strange words flowing from her mouth, Gwen lunged forward and threw up her hands. A shimmering wall of light appeared out of nowhere. The laserlike flare struck dead-on. Blinking out of existence, it vanished with a weak fizz.
Seizing his chance, Blake fired again and again. Aimed with expert precision, the darts struck their target with a deadening thunk-thunk sound.
The Mer holding Addison hostage reeled, collapsing to the floor like an anchor cut from its ballasts.
Freed from the threat of being wasted, Addison launched herself toward Tessa’s captors. She tackled the nearest woman, knocking her to the ground with a full-body blow. Fists flying like hammers, Addison went to town. The pummeling commenced with vicious intent.
Gwen’s hands suddenly dropped, taking with it the glimmering shield of protection she’d provided. The last of her energy spent, she sagged to the ground. Weakened from giving her all, she didn’t look like she had the strength to fight off a determined kitten. “I haven’t got any more,” she breathed, pressing a hand against her forehead. “You’re on your own.”
Blake cursed under his breath. “Shit.” It was one-on-one now, and he clearly didn’t have the advantage. His palms started to sweat, forcing him to tighten his hold on the tranq gun.
The last Mer standing snarled, an inhuman predator that wouldn’t be easily subdued. The insult she hurled toward them was an unintelligible jumble to his ears. Though he couldn’t understand her words, he easily picked up their meaning. She reached for the blade sheathed at her hip. The serrated edge looked wickedly sharp. Her gaze never deviated from his.
Blake had no doubts about her objective. The bitch wasn’t going without a fight.
Levering a fresh clip into the tranq pistol, Blake couldn’t help smiling. “Sorry, babe . . . You should know better than to bring a knife to a gunfight.” His index finger squeezed the trigger. Once, twice, three times.
Every single dart halted in midair. The Mer waved them aside as if brushing away pesky flies. They dropped harmlessly to the floor around her feet.
Blake blinked stupidly. Apparently Gwen wasn’t the only one with a few tricks up her sleeve.
He cursed and braced himself for the attack. The tranq gun was useless, offering no more defense than a toy cap pistol. Still, it was something in his hand and better than nothing at all.
Apprehension coursed through him. His pulse throbbed in his ears, a dull roar that muted everything except the danger looming in front of him. His assailant was an Amazon, brawny and well muscled. Years, a whole lot of years, had passed since he’d last fought hand to hand. He’d better damn well remember some moves or he’d get his ass kicked all over the place.
No doubt there.
The rogue Mer raised her wicked blade. Her lips drew back into a feral smile.
Suddenly Tessa snatched a nearby folding chair and swung it with every last ounce of strength she possessed. The flat seat of the chair connected squarely with the back of the Mer’s head. A sickening crack followed the strike, which sounded much like a champion baseball player hitting a home run.
The Mer stumbled forward, striking the floor in a dead heap. Fingers losing their grip, her weapon clattered harmlessly against the concrete. She lay still and silent.
Just like that, the attack was over.
Everyone froze a few minutes, shocked by the sudden lack of frenzied action.
The silence was deafening.
Panting hard, Tessa was the first to move. The metal chair slipped from her fingers. A half-choked sob broke from her throat. Crying softly, she stumbled toward her unconscious husband. “Ken,” she wailed, dropping to her knees and taking his face in her hands. Tears slipped down her cheeks. “Kenneth, babe, are you all right?”
Blake lowered the air gun. “Shit.” He moistened his lips and
took a steadying breath. The basement looked like a war zone, blasted and in ruins.
Addison struggled to her feet. Her clothes were ripped and covered with blood. The woman she’d attacked didn’t move, not even to breathe.
Nerves going taut, Blake wondered if she was alive. He hoped not. It didn’t bother him one bit if a terrorist died.
Addison wiped trembling hands across her face. “Is it over?” she asked, voice trembling as hard as her body.
Blake tossed the tranq pistol aside. “Pretty much.”
“Everyone still here?” Before she’d even finished the question, Addison’s eyes widened with alarm. “Gwen’s down—”
Blake’s heart almost stopped in his chest. Gwen’s face was a pale, deathly white.
He hurried toward her, lifting her into his arms and pulling her close. He brushed his fingertips across her pale forehead, smoothing away strands of damp, clinging hair. Her flesh was ice cold.
Without opening her eyes, Gwen moaned. Her body trembled with the chill consuming her.
Blake pressed two fingers against her throat, checking her pulse. Her heartbeat was weak, almost nonexistent. “Gwen,” he whispered, emotion unexpectedly tightening his throat. “It’s Whittaker. I’ve got you, sweetheart. You’ll be okay.”
He held his breath, ears straining for any sound from her. Let her be okay, please God, he silently prayed.
Barely able to respond, Gwen cracked her lids. Her gaze was dull, laced with exhaustion. “Promise?” Her voice was little more than a weak rasp. The single word was so faint he barely heard it. Thick black lashes lowered against her bloodless cheeks. There was no spark, no animation. She was as limp as a rag doll.
Blake’s inner reserve crumbled. He pulled her closer, trying to warm her body with his. He was cold to the marrow of his bones and couldn’t offer much. “I promise.”