“That’s only going to make things worse for you,” the man said. “It’s really better if you just give in.” He said it as though he were trying to be helpful.
Bree looked from Declan to the man who was standing there, casually assessing them. It took only a second for her to understand that he was somehow controlling Declan’s actions. Had he been doing the same to Stella? It made sense, she supposed. She didn’t know the other woman but from everything she’d heard, her actions today seemed out of character. Looking back at Stella, she saw her struggling to sit up, Rowan supporting her. There was something different in her expression that hadn’t been there earlier. Bree could see recognition and emotion there, whereas before her eyes had been nearly blank. Bree looked back to Declan and could see that hint of blankness trying to take over his face. The fear she felt was real now and it was unlike what she’d felt when Stella’s gun had been pointed at her face.
Bree knew she didn’t have a lot of time. This man could decide at any moment to shoot them and they were all unarmed. Or he could make Declan pick up Stella’s gun and shoot them. She wasn’t sure if he could control more than one person at a time, but she was working under the theory that he couldn’t. Now that Declan was under his control, it seemed that Stella had been freed from it. She looked almost as though she were waking from a deep sleep. She seemed slightly confused but her eyes were much clearer than they’d been before. Bree took a deep breath and climbed to her feet in one fluid motion. The man’s gun immediately lifted to point in her direction and she raised her hands to show that she was unarmed.
“Wait.” She tried to make her voice sound normal and hoped he couldn’t hear the slight tremor. “I just want to talk. Maybe we can work this out. My name is Bree. What’s yours?”
The man didn’t seem to care what she was saying. “Sit down, Bree before I make you sit down.”
Bree’s eyes narrowed and she shook her head. “I don’t think so,” she said, taking a small step closer to him, drawing his gun away from the others. “I don’t think you can control more than one person at a time.”
In answer, the man tightened his grip on the gun in his hand and Bree felt her heart stop for a moment as he appeared ready to shoot her. She felt frozen in fear as she waited for the bullet to fire. A flash of movement on the floor drew his attention and he quickly turned the gun in that direction.
Everything seemed to happen at once. Lydia reached for the gun on the floor. Bree cried out. Rowan reached a hand toward Lydia to stop her, but he was too late. The force of the bullet slammed into her body, knocking her back onto the floor. The sound was deafening, echoing off the walls and ceiling. The pale blue shirt Lydia wore bloomed with a dark red stain that spread quickly. Rowan crawled over to her and immediately pressed his hands to the wound, trying to staunch the flow of blood. Bree stood motionless, staring at Lydia in shock.
Declan still sat frozen, his eyes glued to Lydia’s tiny body, watching the bloodstain on her shirt grow despite Rowan’s efforts. Bree remained standing a few feet from Lydia, her hands raised and visibly shaking. She was staring at Lydia with a look of horror on her face. Declan tried to move his hands but felt that rush of pain in his head again. He wanted to scream in frustration, but he was unable to do even that. He needed to do something, but he couldn’t move. He couldn’t just sit here and watch Lydia bleed to death. He could hear her gasping for breath and he felt his own breathing catch in his throat. He had to do something. He watched as the stranger’s gun began to shift back toward Bree.
Declan felt a hot rage surge through him and he gritted his teeth against the pain he knew would come. He took a deep breath and prepared to lunge for the gun. He met Bree’s eyes and saw her give a small shake of her head. She didn’t want him to risk his life for hers but he didn’t know what else to do. She looked to the man with the gun and then back to Declan, her eyes clearly trying to convey a message. It took him a moment longer to understand what she meant. He looked back to Bree with a question in his eyes, but she just gave him a nearly imperceptible nod. Declan took a deep breath and forced himself to relax. The familiar feel of his ability was there, on the edges of his consciousness and he reached for it.
He was better at mimicking physical abilities than mental ones, but he knew he had to try. He reached out with his mind and focused on the stranger who was threatening the people he cared about. He could sense the strangeness of the man’s ability. It was unlike any other ability he’d ever mimicked and Declan wasn’t sure he liked the feel of it. Something about it felt wrong, but he ignored the urge he felt to leave it be. Instead, he latched onto it with his mind. He had no idea how this mind control ability worked but he tried to use it anyway.
He focused on the man pointing the gun at Bree and used his own mind to tell him to lower the weapon. His face took on a confused look for a moment and the gun wavered in his hand. His dark eyes shot to Declan as he understood what was happening. The mind controller redoubled his efforts and leveled the gun at Bree again, his finger tightening the tiniest bit. Declan’s head was pounding and he felt himself break into a cold sweat as he strained against the other man’s will. The two of them were locked in a mental battle that from the outside looked like nothing more than a staring match. Declan felt a shock of pain and a trickle of blood came from his nose. He understood what Stella had been experiencing. He heard a gasp from Lydia and Rowan’s soft reassurances that she was going to be fine and it nearly broke his concentration.
His mind replayed the image of the bullet hitting Lydia and her petite frame being tossed backward by the force. He felt a strange, sudden calm wash over him and he stopped fighting the stranger’s hold on his mind. He pushed out the sounds around him and let his eyes fall closed. He focused every bit of his mental strength on what he was about to do. He wasn’t sure it would work, but it was the only thing he knew to do.
Declan opened his eyes. He watched as the stranger’s eyes widened in confusion that quickly shifted to fear. The gun in his hand lowered to point at the floor. He could feel the man fighting to assert his own will but now, it was merely an annoyance rather than the immovable wall it had been. Declan remained seated on the floor where he’d been since the man had forced him there. It didn’t matter. He watched as the man lifted the gun and pointed it at his own heart. Declan had a moment to wonder if he should show mercy. Then he felt the probing at the corners of his mind, urging him to pick up the gun that still lay beside him. To use it on his friends and loved ones. His eyes narrowed and he glared at the stranger as he stood there, pointing his gun at his own heart. The image of Bree standing just like that while he lay bleeding on the floor passed through Declan’s mind, but it was gone in the instant it took him to force the man to squeeze the trigger.
The sound of the gun firing momentarily drew Rowan’s attention away from Lydia’s wound. He watched as the mind controller collapsed to the ground, his body crumpling in a heap. Rowan turned his shocked eyes to Declan who was still sitting on the floor, but swayed weakly before reaching up to wipe blood from his nose. Bree took the gun from the dead man’s hand and rushed over to Declan’s side. She took his face in her hands and looked him over briefly. Rowan watched her nod as though reassuring herself that he really was okay before they both turned their attention to Lydia. Stella sat a little apart from the others, hugging her knees to her chest as she watched Lydia’s shallow breathing. The sound of approaching footsteps had her turning her head in the direction of the main corridor. Rowan kept his hands pressed tightly against Lydia’s bullet wound, but his eyes never left Stella’s face as she slowly rocked back and forth.
The previously silent hallway became filled with voices as people realized what had happened and rushed to help. A crowd gathered around Lydia, trying to help her. Her breathing was shallower than before and she’d lost consciousness. She was so pale now and Rowan tried not to focus on the growing pool of blood under her. He had no idea if the bullet had passed through her or if it was still insi
de. She needed to get to Medical and fast. He worried that it might already be too late. Finally, three medics came rushing down the hall with a stretcher. Lydia seemed even smaller as they loaded her onto the stretcher. The medical team rushed away, leaving Rowan standing there with Bree and Declan.
He watched as Stella was taken into custody. She allowed herself to be escorted away without protest. Rowan hated the sight of her being led away with armed guards flanking her, but he knew that whatever argument he might make just then wouldn’t matter so he said nothing. His mind was reeling. Everything he’d known had shifted so quickly and completely in the instant it had taken him to recognize Stella’s face. Shock, confusion, joy, and worry all clashed together inside him and he struggled to make sense of what he felt. Bree and Declan stood off to one side, speaking to one another in low voices. Rowan didn’t look their way. He wasn’t ready to face anyone just then. He took one last look at the large dark stain on the floor before he turned and walked swiftly away.
When Conrad came running into the hallway, the first thing he saw was a sheet covering what was clearly a body. Declan and Bree stood off to one side, arms wrapped around one another. They both looked worried and exhausted. The hallway was full of other people who all looked in Conrad’s direction when he appeared. He ignored them all and turned his attention to Declan. When Declan looked up to meet his gaze, Conrad froze in his tracks. The look on the other man’s face had his heart in his throat.
“Lydia?” Conrad whispered.
Declan’s voice was raw. “They took her to Medical. It’s bad, Conrad. I don’t know—”
Conrad didn’t wait for him to finish. He pushed past the people in the hallway and ran for the stairwell. Medical was only one floor below them and he took the stairs two at a time in his rush to get to his daughter. All he knew was that she’d been shot. He hadn’t waited to find out more details. His mind raced as he ran. Lydia had given up active missions when she’d become pregnant. She’d told him that she couldn’t risk leaving her child without a parent. No matter how badly they might have needed her help over the years, Conrad had never pressed her to go back to that life. She was safe inside these walls. Or so he’d thought. Somehow, danger had gotten inside and Lydia had been hurt. She would be okay. She had to be okay. The words ran through his head on a loop as he exited the stairwell and took off at a dead run toward Medical.
When he pushed through the doors, he’d expected to walk into chaos. He’d been in this room before when an injured person had been brought in. He’d watched as the medics worked to save a life. He’d seen the organized chaos of a trauma room in full swing. That was what he’d expected when he walked through the doors. He’d prepared himself for the noise and the rush of people. He wasn’t prepared for the silence that greeted him. His gaze was immediately drawn to the stretcher in the middle of the room and it took a moment for him to notice the other people who stood motionless, looking at him with expressions of pity or sadness. One of the medics had tears in her eyes. He took in their faces in just a few seconds before looking back to the motionless form on the stretcher.
Conrad understood what he was seeing, even as his mind rejected the truth of the scene. He stood frozen, his eyes fixed on the stretcher where Lydia lay unmoving. He blinked. He couldn’t seem to make his feet move to carry him forward and he couldn’t look away. He wasn’t sure how long he stood that way before he felt a hand on his shoulder. The touch seemed to snap him out of the trance and he turned to look at the man who’d come up beside him. The man’s eyes were full of sympathy and Conrad began to shake his head.
The medic—his name was Sean; the name suddenly came to him—opened his mouth to speak, but Conrad shoved the man’s hand off his shoulder and took a step toward his daughter. A single step was all he managed before he felt his legs give out and he crashed to his knees on the floor.
Chapter 29
The sound of Sawyer’s heels echoed through the empty hallway as she walked toward Rowan’s office. It had been a week since Lydia’s death and Rowan had spent most of that time working. Sawyer knew he was dealing with a lot and she understood the urge to run away and to keep busy, but she also knew that it didn’t solve anything. No matter how tempting it was to hide from your problems, eventually you had to face them. She loved her brother, but when he’d disappeared from Lydia’s memorial service earlier, she’d decided enough was enough. When the service ended, she’d gone in search of him. Someone needed to bring him around.
When she reached Rowan’s office, Sawyer wasn’t surprised to find him scribbling furiously in a notebook and mumbling to himself. She felt her heart clench at the dark circles under his eyes. She wondered how much he’d slept in the last week. Or whether he’d been eating. The dark stubble he normally sported seemed longer than usual and his hair was a mess. She watched for a moment as he stuck the pencil behind one ear and spun to face the computer screens behind him. He chewed his thumbnail and his brow drew down low behind his glasses as his eyes darted from one screen to the next, taking in the information faster than anyone should have been able to.
Sawyer hated to see him like this. She remembered the way he’d been after they’d lost Stella. He’d been obsessed, consumed with work, refusing to speak to her or Corbin. He’d shut down completely and buried himself with work. He blamed himself for not seeing it, for not being able to prevent her death. When he wasn’t working, he’d stay locked in his room for days at a time, drinking himself into a stupor. She couldn’t let him go back to that. She wouldn’t. She stepped into the office and cleared her throat loudly. Rowan stiffened but he didn’t turn to face her.
“What is it?” he asked in a tone that implied he didn’t care why she’d come.
Sawyer sighed and rolled her eyes even though she knew he wouldn’t see it. She’d known he wouldn’t make this easy for her. “Rowan,” she said. “We need to talk.” When he didn’t acknowledge her, she walked over and put a hand on his upper arm. He turned away, forcing her hand off. He’d meant for it to appear accidental, but she knew he was shrugging her off. He wanted to be alone, but she knew that wasn’t what he needed.
“Ro,” she tried again. She deliberately made her tone softer than it usually was. “You can’t hide from this. Talk to me.” She heard his sigh and watched his shoulders slump. He had to know that she wasn’t going to give up. The shock had finally started to wear off and Sawyer was able to think clearly about Stella’s return. She wasn’t sure Rowan was quite there yet, but he couldn’t keep ignoring the truth. She’d given him time, but now he was going to talk to her.
As he turned to face her, he pulled off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Sawyer studied him up close. He looked even worse than she’d thought. He was clearly exhausted. She gave him a chastising look. “When’s the last time you slept?”
Rowan gave a humorless laugh and shrugged. “I slept last night.”
“For more than an hour?” she asked with a pointed look.
Rowan rolled his eyes and shook his head. “I’m fine,” he said and tried to turn back to the bank of monitors but Sawyer’s hand on his arm was firmer this time and she forced him to face her.
“You’re not fine,” she said. “You’re killing yourself and it’s not going to bring her back.”
Rowan whirled on her and the look on his face nearly made her take a step backward but she stood her ground.
“Lydia’s death is not on you,” she said firmly. “You can’t do this to yourself. What happened to Stella isn’t your fault, Ro. You’re just one man.”
“I should have seen it!” he roared in frustration. Sawyer held her ground. He gestured to the computers and then scrubbed his hands through his hair. “What good is this”—he tapped his fists against the sides of his head—“if I can’t help the people I care about?” He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. “I’m so sick of reacting to the horrible shit he sends our way. We need to stop him.” His eyes were full of anguish when he opened them.
S
awyer felt her heart clench painfully. She didn’t know what to say that would convince him that he wasn’t to blame, that they would find a way to stop Ephraim, that this war would end someday. She had a hard time convincing herself of that last one, but it didn’t matter right now. She reached out and took one of his hands in hers, squeezing it briefly.
“We’re going to end this,” she said, forcing strength into her voice. “We’re going to stop him. He’s not going to take any more of our friends from us.” She didn’t know if her tone convinced Rowan or not, but he nodded. The truth was that they were all so deeply entrenched in the war with Ephraim that they had to believe they would win. If they allowed their thoughts to drift in any other direction, she knew that they’d fall apart.
“Sawyer’s right.” They both turned at the sound of Corbin’s voice behind them in the doorway. Bree and Declan stood behind him. The three of them walked into the room and Rowan looked at each of them in turn. They all wore matching expressions of grief mixed with anger. It was a look he recognized.
Bree stepped forward. “Lydia was our friend too,” she said, her voice catching slightly on the words. She cleared her throat and went on. “We have to end this.”
Declan nodded and gave Rowan a direct look. “Train me,” he said and his voice didn’t waver. “I’m ready. I don’t care about the side effects.” Bree reached out and took his hand in hers. Rowan looked from their joined hands back to Declan’s face.
“You say that now,” he said, “but you might regret it later.”
Declan shrugged one shoulder. “Look,” he said. “We’re in this. We’re in too far to quit now. We might as well be as useful as possible. This thing I can do—my ability—if it can help, we have to try.”
The room fell silent as everyone waited for Rowan to say something. After several seconds, he finally sighed and shook his head. “Fine,” he said. “We’ll give it a shot.”
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