If I managed to survive all this, I’d have to let him know that the only place we really could be certain of our future was in Flagstaff.
“Yes,” I said. “Mostly western Colorado and Utah. It’s a lot drier there, except during monsoon season.”
“Oh, yes — your famous summer storms.” A pause, and then she added, “Do you think observing those storms helped you to control your powers?”
Obviously, she’d decided it was time to get past the preliminaries and on to the real meat of why I was there at the SED facility. I drew in a breath, trying to figure out the best way to respond to her question. The true answer was that I hadn’t known how to control my powers at all, which was why I had so much misfortune following me wherever I went. I’d only gained control over that strange gift of mine after Joanna Wilcox, the clan’s other weather-worker, had given me the guidance I needed.
However, I couldn’t tell Michelle Richards about Joanna, or that I possessed my weather-working abilities because I was the daughter of a very powerful warlock and not because something in my genetic makeup had decided to take a left turn at Albuquerque.
I shrugged and said, “I don’t think ‘control’ is the right word to use. It’s more like the storms respond to my emotions.”
There. That was nothing more than the truth…or at least, it had been the complete truth up until a few weeks earlier. Now, my reality was just a little more complicated.
“Was that what happened to Agent Lenz?” Dr. Richards asked then. Something about her tone sounded almost hesitant, though, as if she didn’t know for sure what exactly had happened to him, and she wanted to see how I responded.
Which meant they still hadn’t figured it out. I had a feeling whatever doctor or doctors had examined him had most likely found traces of injuries that might have been attributed to a lightning strike, but since Eleanor, the Wilcox clan’s healer, had fixed Randall Lenz up as best she could, those injuries would have appeared long healed, not something that had happened to him only a few days earlier.
No wonder Dr. Richards sounded hesitant. She didn’t know what might set me off, although there wasn’t anything about our current situation to signal she was in immediate danger; we stood in a welcoming green space and were speaking in civil tones. Nothing there that should invite an attack, even if I was technically being held against my will at the facility.
“Um…I guess so,” I allowed. “I wasn’t really thinking. It just sort of…happened.”
Her fingers tightened on the iPad she still held, as if she wanted to pick it up and make a quick notation but decided against it because she wanted to maintain the façade of the two of us having a friendly conversation and nothing more. “And that happened a lot with you, isn’t that right?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know about ‘a lot.’ That was the first time lightning ever got that close to someone when they were around me. A couple of near-misses, but….”
My words trailed off as Dr. Richards gave me a sympathetic nod, although she didn’t appear as if she planned to respond, was instead waiting to see if I had anything else to add. I didn’t…mostly because I had something far more important to occupy my mind.
The clouds that floated lazily above us were rich with moisture, even though they didn’t seem to show any indication of actually raining. Still, I knew it wouldn’t take much for me to call out to them to grow even heavier with water vapor, to become restless and full of potential energy just looking for a place to strike.
And I knew exactly where they should strike. Someplace close by Dr. Richards — not enough to hit her like I’d made the lightning strike Randall Lenz, but near enough to stun her, knock her off her feet…maybe even render her unconscious for a few seconds. A few more strikes on the building, like on the doors to disable the biometric locks, and I’d have a pretty good chance of getting away.
Only…as I stood there under the other woman’s watchful gaze, I suddenly realized I couldn’t do it. Maybe I was being overly scrupulous, but it seemed to me that it was one thing to strike down someone who was being actively threatening, and quite another to attack a person who only stood close by and wasn’t acting in the least bit menacing. What if I miscalculated, and the lightning bolt actually struck her? Michelle Richards was around my height and very slender; the same force that had nearly killed Randall Lenz, a man taller than six feet and certainly a good forty or fifty pounds heavier than the doctor, might prove to be lethal for someone so much smaller in build.
And that didn’t even take into account anyone who might be standing near the doors when I targeted the lightning to hit the biometric locks. There might have been some who would consider any employees of the facility to be enemy combatants, and therefore not deserving of much consideration, but I didn’t think I could be that callous. For all I knew, most of the people who worked in the place didn’t even know exactly what sort of research was being conducted there. Did I really want to take that risk with innocent employees?
I pulled in a breath. The whole time I’d been wrestling with myself, Dr. Richards had stood quietly by, waiting for me to continue. Since I knew I had to say something, I told her, “Actually, I think that’s enough fresh air for now. The humidity’s giving me a headache.”
At once, her expression grew concerned. “Then we’ll go inside. I’d like you to meet the others, if you feel up to it.”
I stared at her in feigned surprise. Or maybe not so feigned. Yes, I knew about the other test subjects, but I was startled that she’d mention them to me so early in the game. “‘Others’?” I repeated.
“Oh, yes. I mentioned our ‘guests’ earlier. There are fifteen of you now, all very special people with very special gifts.”
Right. Yes, she had mentioned them, and I’d been startled then as well, a little shocked that she saw no reason to conceal the presence of other supernaturally talented people at the facility when Randall Lenz had been so coy on the subject. In my mind, I’d just naturally assumed that Lenz and his staff would have made sure to keep everyone separate so there wouldn’t be any chance of them collaborating somehow, maybe figuring out a way to work together so they could get the hell out of there.
But it seemed that assumption had been dead wrong.
What else might I have been wrong about?
“Sure,” I said, finding my voice. “I definitely want to meet everyone.”
5
Randall Lenz paused the video of Dr. Richards and Adara Grant once again. Yes, there it was — Adara hesitating for a scant few seconds, gray-green eyes flickering toward the partly cloudy sky overhead before she returned her attention to the woman who stood a few feet away. It seemed obvious enough to him that she’d considered reaching out with her gift to tap into the energies within those clouds, and then apparently had thought better of it.
The little test had played out precisely as he’d imagined.
Michelle Richards hadn’t been overly thrilled to be part of his experiment, but he’d assured her she wouldn’t be in any real danger. Yes, he had a feeling that Adara Grant had injured him badly, even if he couldn’t remember exactly what had happened, and yet he guessed there wouldn’t be a repeat of that particular incident. After all, even though he couldn’t claim to know Adara very well, he doubted she would direct a violent attack at another woman.
Some sixth sense told him that Adara had far more control over her peculiar gift than he’d originally thought. She’d been frightened when he came to collect her from her mother’s home in Kanab, Utah, and although a violent storm had descended on the property, it hadn’t hurt him. The injuries he’d sustained had come later, during the blank time that had left such a hole in his memories. If she had such a weapon in her arsenal, why wouldn’t she use it?
Well, apparently when she didn’t think her current circumstances warranted such an assault. She’d held back with Dr. Richards, for whatever reason.
He’d hoped for such an outcome, since it meant she could make the lightni
ng and the weather obey her commands. At the same time, he realized he would have to tread cautiously. Adara was not the sort of person to be coerced into cooperation; he’d have to make her believe it was in the country’s best interests that she explore the full extent of her abilities and learn the sort of fine control that would make her a valuable asset.
Because he and Dr. Richards and the rest of their team had seen encouraging levels of success with their other subjects, he had no reason to believe they wouldn’t experience that same success with Adara Grant. People wanted to feel valued, to think they were making a contribution to their country, to their world. All he had to do was determine the correct angle of approach, and soon enough, Adara would realize she was in a unique position to make a very valuable contribution indeed.
For the moment, though, he knew it was probably best to sit back and let Dr. Richards handle things. She’d advised early exposure to the rest of the test subjects, simply because being around other people with singular gifts made those involved realize they weren’t freaks, but rather a member of a special population. Lenz wanted Adara to adopt that mindset, to understand that she was now a part of a uniquely talented community. Once she saw herself as one of them, she’d be far more likely to cooperate.
His smile faded as he recalled the story she’d given him about the mysterious “Jake” being a Russian operative. He’d known at once that she was lying — her gaze had shifted away from his, and she’d tucked her hair behind her ears and licked her lips several times during the narrative, all distinctive tells he’d been trained to watch for.
Exactly what she was hiding, Lenz still didn’t know, thanks to the way any information about Jake or his activities had been scrubbed from their databases. He’d had Dawson search on “Jake Wilcox,” just because Adara had used that surname when purchasing a car and setting up her bank accounts, but the only Jake Wilcox Dawson had been able to find within five hundred miles of Kanab was an individual at least forty years older than the man Lenz had confronted at the house Adara shared with her mother.
As with so many aspects of this case, they were effectively back to zero.
Randall Lenz told himself it didn’t matter. While of course he would have preferred to track down Jake so he could discover exactly what his connection to Adara Blake actually was, having the man in custody was of lesser importance when contrasted with the value she brought to the organization.
And to his place in it as well. Lenz knew he was young to occupy a position with so much responsibility, and he worked tirelessly to ensure the under-secretary knew that his confidence in him hadn’t been misplaced. In fact, he needed to get back to the report he’d been writing on Adara’s capture, because he wanted to make sure his superiors knew that a prized asset had been safely brought into custody. His preliminary write-ups on her had garnered a good deal of interest, mostly because — unlike the majority of the subjects currently being held for study — her gifts had immediate offensive use.
If, of course, she could be convinced to use them.
All in good time. For the moment, he would have to trust in Dr. Richards…and hope that sooner rather than later, Adara Grant would understand that everything he did, he did for the good of his country.
Hanging around the house with nothing to do would have driven Jake crazy, so after he made sure Taffy had fresh water in her bowl and that she’d be okay until he came back to check on her at lunchtime, he headed over to the Trident Enterprises HQ across from Wheeler park. Yes, Jeremy would be buried in cracking the code that protected the SED’s security system and wouldn’t be thrilled to be interrupted, but Jake figured Laurel would be there as well, watching over the computers that tirelessly searched the world’s news for any sign of individuals with special witchy talents. He could hang out with her and stay out of Jeremy’s hair — mainly because Jeremy would be working in the PC room, while he and Laurel could stay in the repurposed living room that housed all of Trident’s Mac Pro computers.
The day was bright and beautiful, with just a few clouds drifting around Mt. Humphreys, the highest of the San Francisco Peaks that towered above Flagstaff. In a perfect world, Jake would have packed a picnic lunch and taken Addie to see some of his favorite spots nearby — Lockett Meadow, on the north side of the peaks, or Aspen Corner, a little bit closer to town.
But since she was being held in a government research facility roughly three thousand miles away, there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it until Jeremy could get into the system and pull up some visuals for Connor and Angela to work with. In the meantime, Jake figured he might as well at least pretend to be doing something useful.
When he walked into the main room at Trident, he noticed immediately that the pocket doors separating the space from the dining room next door had been pulled shut. Laurel sat in front of one of the computers but didn’t appear to be paying much attention to what was on the screen, since she had her phone out and was busily texting with someone. As soon as she spotted Jake, however, she set down the phone and said, “Sorry — it’s just that the computers really don’t need much babysitting.”
“I know,” he replied, speaking quietly so his voice wouldn’t carry beyond the pocket doors and possibly interrupt Jeremy while he was in the middle of his hacking blitz.
Laurel paused, her gaze moving toward the doors before she looked back over at Jake. “Jeremy told me what happened,” she said. “I’m really sorry about Addie.”
“It’s okay,” he said. Not that any of this was okay, but what had happened certainly wasn’t Laurel’s fault. “Jeremy’s working on it.”
“I know. After he let me know about Addie, he went in there and shut the door, and hasn’t come out since.”
And probably wouldn’t until late that night, if even then. When Jeremy went on a tear, he could be glued to a screen for up to twelve hours before he surfaced. Most of the time, he would remember enough of the world to order in some food, but not always. Well, since Jake planned to go home at lunch to check on the dog, he figured he’d bring back takeout for everyone. What else did he have to do with his time?
“He knows our hands are tied until he hacks that system,” Jake said. “But once we have something to work with, Connor and Angela can go in and get her.”
Laurel shook her head. As usual, she wore a brightly colored top — this one hot pink — and her overall look was just a bit too cheery, considering their current circumstances. But he knew he couldn’t really blame her for that. It wasn’t as if she’d known when she got dressed that morning that her newfound cousin had been captured by a rogue branch of the federal government.
“It’s kind of wild to think Connor can do that sort of thing,” she said. “I mean, I know he and Angela teleported before, but most of the time, they’re both so low-key about their talents that you kind of, I don’t know…forget they’re capable of all that crazy stuff.”
“I know what you mean,” Jake replied. “I suppose it’s a good thing that they don’t really throw their weight around, so to speak. But in this case, even they have their limits. If they were all-powerful, they could just zap themselves right into the SED facility and get Addie out of there without us having to wait on Jeremy to crack the system.”
And wouldn’t all their lives be made easier if Connor and Angela really could do something like that? But, amazing as their combined talents were, even they couldn’t teleport to a place they hadn’t seen. Since he doubted that the employees of the facility were busy posting Instagram photos of themselves for the world to see, about all he — and Angela and Connor and Laurel — could do was wait and pray that Jeremy’s own magical gifts would bail them out sooner rather than later.
“Well, Jeremy’ll figure it out,” Laurel said with a smile. No doubt she was just trying to be encouraging, but something about his cousin’s smile grated on Jake right then. He didn’t want false cheer; he wanted Addie back.
“Anything interesting pop up?” he asked then, abruptly changing the
subject.
Although sometimes Laurel could be a little too bubbly for his taste, Jake would never accuse her of not being smart. At once, her smile disappeared, and she looked downright businesslike. “Nothing worth following up. A ping from some kind of faith healer in Oklahoma, but it turned out to be nothing. Another scam.”
Which was just part of the territory. Whenever you were out fishing for people with extraordinary abilities, you ran the risk of catching a lot of charlatans in your net. The sad truth was, even though witches and warlocks existed, had been woven into humanity’s history for hundreds and probably thousands of years, there were plenty of ordinary human beings out there who’d realized there was a lot of money to be made from people who desperately wanted to believe in their supernatural gifts. Jeremy had set up the algorithms to filter out fakes, but if someone was especially good, sometimes the Trident team had to take a second or even third look before determining that the person in question wasn’t any more a witch or warlock than they were a unicorn.
“Too bad,” Jake commented. “We can always use more healers.”
He’d said the words in an almost off-hand tone — after all, one thing most of witch-kind could agree on was that healers were valuable and necessary to a smooth-running clan — but Laurel still frowned at him. “So, what…I’m wasting my time sitting here and babysitting your computers?”
Oops. He’d been so preoccupied with Addie that he’d forgotten his cousin could be a little touchy about her healing gifts, since she hadn’t been doing all that much with them lately. She’d trained with Eleanor, the clan’s healer, to make sure she had proper control over her talents, but it was clear to everyone that Laurel really wasn’t terribly interested in delivering babies or fixing broken bones or managing someone’s diabetes, or else she probably would have majored in biology in college rather than computer science, would have done something that might have assisted her in taking on some responsibilities as a clan healer. Eleanor had covered for her, saying that she was on top of the situation and really didn’t need an assistant — especially when a lot of Wilcoxes saw civilian specialists to handle their minor health issues — but Jake could tell that was just Eleanor being kind. For the time being, the status quo worked just fine, since Eleanor was a healthy fifty-four and certainly had no intention of retiring any time soon. But eventually….
Winds of Change Page 5