“That’s not what I said,” he responded, doing his best to keep his tone mild. The last thing he wanted right then was to get in an argument with his cousin, especially when he knew he was on edge, nerves frayed with worry over Addie. “If I thought you should be working with Eleanor, I wouldn’t have asked you to come work here at Trident.”
Laurel slumped against the back of her computer chair, expression now contrite. “I know. I’m sorry, Jake. There’s just been way more drama the past few weeks than I’m used to dealing with.”
Truer words were never spoken. While Jake might not have said he’d been precisely happy the past few years, not with Sarah, his former fiancée, torn from his life so unexpectedly and tragically, at least he’d settled into a sort of groove, working summers for the Forest Service and winters at the Snow Bowl ski resort. Neither of those jobs paid all that well; he didn’t need them to, thanks to the Wilcox clan stipend he received every month. And then when he dreamed up Trident Enterprises and its mission, he had plenty to occupy him, but the work had been undemanding most of the time. It wasn’t until Addie Grant entered his life that everything hit the fan.
Not that he would have changed any of it. Well, all right — if he suddenly was granted the ability to go back in time and alter past events, then he would have used his telekinetic abilities to make Agent Lenz’s gun jam, or at least shoot straight up into the porch roof so that Addie’s mother escaped the confrontation unscathed.
Unfortunately, he didn’t have that kind of power. Hell, even his own telekinesis was limited in its own way, since he could only affect inanimate objects and not people. Otherwise, he could have used his gift to push Lyssa Grant out of harm’s way.
Or make Randall Lenz aim his damn gun at himself, Jake thought bitterly, although he knew deep down he wasn’t cold-blooded enough to take that kind of lethal action against another human being. The agent might deserve to meet that sort of fate, but Jake wouldn’t be the one to deliver it.
“Well, we all knew we’d probably run into problems we couldn’t plan for,” he said diplomatically, and Laurel gave him an odd little grimace of a smile before reaching for a water bottle that sat on the computer desk in front of them.
She unscrewed the cap and took a swallow of water before replying, “I suppose so. But we were thinking about how we might have to jump through hoops to convince people they were actually witches and warlocks, or deal with the politics of reuniting our ‘orphans’ with their clans. Not even Jeremy mentioned the possibility of getting into it with the federal government.”
Jake couldn’t argue with that assertion. Yes, Jeremy tended to be the sort of person who came up with contingencies for his contingencies, and yet, even in all his worst-case scenarios, he’d never dreamed up a situation like the one they currently found themselves embroiled in.
“No plan survives a battlefield,” Jake commented, and Laurel raised an eyebrow.
“Is that a Jeremy quote?”
“No…Winston Churchill, maybe?” Honestly, Jake couldn’t be sure who’d said it, or if he’d even gotten the quote right. The important thing was the sentiment behind it. You could plan and plan, but the second you put those plans into action in real life, everything changed.
“Oh.” His cousin was silent for a moment as she sipped some more water, then replaced the cap and set the bottle back down on the desk. “You seem pretty calm about all this.”
About all Jake could do was shrug. “What else can I do? Until Jeremy hacks that security system, there isn’t much any of us can do except wait. There’s not much point in wasting my energy on freaking out, is there?”
“No, I suppose not.” Laurel played with the ends of her long ponytail, which had slipped forward over her shoulder. “Still….”
He understood her hesitancy. In a way, it was easier than he’d thought to act calm, because he really didn’t want his cousin to see him lose control. If nothing else, he was supposed to be in charge at Trident, although the setup was pretty loose and he honestly would never dream of telling Laurel to do something she didn’t want to do. However, that didn’t mean his mind wasn’t still churning away, wondering what was happening to the woman he loved as he sat there and quietly talked to his cousin. Jake tried to reassure himself that Addie obviously was valuable to Randall Lenz, and so he wouldn’t do anything to hurt her…but did he know that for sure? The man was driven, and maybe he’d already decided that a little painful coercion might be the ticket if she proved to be uncooperative.
No, he needed to push those sorts of thoughts away. Otherwise, he’d end up driving himself crazy.
Still, he would have given everything he owned to know what was happening to her right then.
6
Dr. Richards took me back inside the building and to the elevator. This time, it felt as though we traveled downward for a long while, although without a digital indicator to count off the floors or the little bing that informed an elevator’s occupants each time it passed a floor, I honestly couldn’t tell how many stories we’d descended. Farther than the floor where my suite was located, farther than the level where I’d gone to the examination room to have my blood drawn, telling me that wherever we were going, it was pretty deep underground.
I’d been expecting another industrial-looking hallway, but instead the elevator opened onto a reception area of some sort, although no one was sitting at the large metal and glass desk placed off to one side. Immediately in front of us was a set of double doors guarded by a biometric lock; Dr. Richards walked over to the panel, waited while her right eye was scanned, and then turned toward me, one hand on the door handle.
“We have a sort of common area on this floor,” she explained. “We call it the multipurpose unit. Most of our guests like to spend their time here when they’re not working with me or one of my assistants. There’s a reading area, several televisions, a music system. Oh, and plenty of e-readers — we can get you any book you like. There’s a basket where you can put your requests.”
For a second or two, I was tempted to ask when we’d be finger-painting or braiding plastic lanyards for keychains, but then I decided it was probably better to keep the snark to a minimum. Although I had absolutely no idea how I was going to get out of the place, I reminded myself that it was in my best interests to at least seem as if I was going along with the flow and cooperating.
“Great,” I said. “I have a lot of books I’d like to catch up on — between school and work, I never seemed to have enough time for pleasure reading.”
That comment elicited a quick flash of a smile, maybe with just a hint of relief. Had Dr. Richards worried that I might be difficult? Maybe; I had a feeling Randall Lenz probably hadn’t painted a very flattering portrait of me.
Not that I really cared one way or another.
“Perfect,” she said. “But in the meantime, let’s get you introduced to everyone.”
She opened the door and led me inside. No wonder they called it the “multipurpose unit” — my first impression was of a large open space similar to the multipurpose room at an elementary school I’d attended briefly during my mother’s and my first stint in Utah, since there were tables set up to either side, and dedicated spots for reading or watching TV. Unlike that multipurpose room, though, this space had a large conversation pit in the center, with lots of overstuffed couches and chairs. Sitting there was a group of nine people, men and women who appeared to range in age from their mid-twenties to their early fifties. I knew there were supposedly fourteen other “guests” besides myself at the facility, but I figured that the others were off being put through their paces by the members of Dr. Richards’ staff, or possibly just hanging out in their own suites if they weren’t into the whole togetherness thing at the moment.
Years of constantly enrolling in new schools should have accustomed me to meeting large groups of strangers at once, but I still experienced a flutter in my stomach as they paused their conversation to look over at Michelle Richards and
me. I had to fight the impulse to flee through the door I’d just entered…not that it probably would have opened without the doctor’s retinal scan.
“Hi, everyone,” she said brightly, sounding more like a chirpy kindergarten teacher than a government-funded scientist. “This is Addie Grant, our newest guest.”
“Hi, Addie,” everyone replied almost in unison, reinforcing my feeling of being in some kind of surreal kindergarten class.
“Hi,” I managed, knowing how limp that one syllable must have sounded. Right then, I was seriously reconsidering my decision to come meet everyone, even though I’d told myself that it was important for me to see who else was being held at the facility and — with any luck — learn something of what their talents might be.
One of the men stood up. He looked as though he was probably in his early thirties, with thin, intense features that somehow managed to be appealing without being exactly attractive. “Glad to have you as part of our group,” he said, his voice a warm, friendly tenor. “I’m Ethan Sitko.”
“Hi, Ethan,” I replied, doing my best to smile. At the same time, I wondered how long he’d been held at the facility. He seemed almost too pale, as if he hadn’t spent much time getting sun in the open courtyard area Dr. Richards has shown me a few minutes earlier.
Sitting next to him was a pretty woman probably around my age, with the kind of long, gloriously curly dark hair that I, with my straight brown locks, had always envied. Her skin was a warm shade of light brown, making me think that one of her parents must have been African American. Were there even African American witches? Probably, just because the Castillo and the de la Paz clans were both obviously Hispanic, and it seemed silly to think there wouldn’t be various ethnicities represented in other witch families.
I’d have to ask Jake when I saw him again…and I made sure to emphasize the “when” in my mind, just so I wouldn’t feel too overwhelmed by my current situation.
“And I’m Natalie,” the woman said. A quick glance up at Ethan, and he smiled down at her, the warmth in his expression clearly echoed in hers. Maybe I was imagining things that weren’t there, but I got the distinct impression the two of them were close…or at least as close as their standing as “guests” in a government facility would allow them to be.
But I didn’t have time for much speculation after that, because the rest of the group started introducing themselves as well, and I tried to focus on names and faces — Lorna was the pretty, slightly plump woman who reminded me of Angela’s Aunt Rachel, and Matthew the guy who looked like he was around my age, maybe a little younger, with gingery hair and a dancing light in his eyes that made me think he was glad to see an unattached female show up.
Well, I was most definitely attached, even if none of my current companions could know anything about my relationship with Jake Wilcox, or the world he represented. I had to hold that secret close to my chest, because as much as I would have liked to let all of them know they weren’t genetic freaks, were instead lost members of various witch clans, I knew I didn’t dare let slip such an important piece of information, not when I had a feeling everything we did and said was being recorded.
“Hi, everybody,” I said, and attempted what I hoped was a natural-looking smile.
“I’ll leave you all to get acquainted,” Dr. Richards put in then. “But Andrew — it’s time for our afternoon session. You can come back up to the lab with me.”
A slim man with graying dark hair got up from one of the couches, gave me a nod, and headed over to the door, the doctor at his side. They exited the room, and the rest of us were left to stare at each other. My feeling of being back in some kind of strange kindergarten class only intensified, but I forced myself to say, “So…what are all your powers?”
Ethan grinned. “Cut right to the chase, huh?”
“Are you supposed not to talk about it?” I asked. I’d sort of gotten the impression that witches and warlocks generally didn’t ask about one another’s abilities, and instead waited for an acquaintance to volunteer the information, but I didn’t see why the people who surrounded me would follow the same rules, not when they didn’t even know witch society was a thing.
“No, that’s not it,” Natalie responded, sending a half-exasperated glance up at Ethan, albeit one that was tinged with fondness. “They’ve never told us that we can’t discuss our powers. But usually we tell each other a little bit about ourselves before we get into all that.”
I shrugged. “There’s not much to tell. My mom and I moved around a lot because of my power. I was going to start my senior year of college at the University of Utah in August.”
Ethan raised an eyebrow. “So…what is your power?”
“Weather.”
He and Natalie exchanged a glance. Lorna, who hadn’t spoken yet except to introduce herself, gave a nod, and a few of the others murmured amongst themselves.
“What?” I asked, not sure how to respond to their response…or rather, lack of. “Is that a common power? Do some of you have it, too?”
“No,” Ethan said. “But some of us got the impression that it was something Randall Lenz wanted specifically.”
Probably because it could be so easily weaponized. I thought again of the bolt of lightning I’d summoned, how he hadn’t been able to offer any kind of defense against something so innately powerful. No wonder he wanted to use it as a weapon.
I did my best to push away the stir of unease that rose inside me and kept my tone light as I asked, “So, he has a shopping list of gifts he wants?”
“I wouldn’t exactly say that,” Matthew put in. During the previous exchange, he’d inched a bit closer to me, although not so close that I could accuse him of getting in my personal space. Still, I wondered uneasily if he was going to be a problem. “It’s just that some talents are more useful than others.”
I tilted my head. “What’s yours?”
He hesitated. “Nothing special.”
“Oh, come on,” Natalie protested. “I think it’s kind of cool.”
“But it doesn’t really do anything.”
She put her hands on her hips and shot him a direct look. Apparently deciding it wasn’t worth arguing over anymore, Matthew let out a breath and then raised his hands. At once, a warm glow began to emanate from his palms, growing stronger and stronger until it was bright enough that I had to look away.
Then it disappeared, and he shoved his hands in his jeans pockets. “That’s my gift. But I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with it, except find work in a coal mine or something.”
From the deprecating tone of his voice, I guessed he’d made the same remark many times before. And honestly, I didn’t know why he would have such a talent, either, except that I supposed there was some value in having a light source that didn’t require any fuel or outside energy.
“Can you do anything else with it?” I asked. “Like, charge your phone or something?”
My question elicited a few chuckles from some of the other people in the group, but Matthew appeared serious enough as he replied, “Actually, yeah, I can. I didn’t even realize that until I started working with Dr. Richards and her team. Part of what they do is have us exercise our gifts, see what else we can do with them.”
He didn’t sound all that upset about being locked up in an underground facility and being put through his paces like some kind of glorified lab rat. Actually, as my gaze moved from him to Ethan and Natalie, and on to Lorna and the others, I noticed that none of them looked terribly troubled by their current situation. What, were they actually happy to be there?
No, that was probably taking my speculation a bit too far. On the other hand, it seemed as though Dr. Richards wasn’t too worried about some kind of mass breakout, or she wouldn’t have left us alone down in the multipurpose unit without any adult supervision.
Well, without any adult supervision I could see. I knew I was fooling myself if I didn’t think there weren’t hidden cameras and microphones all over the place.<
br />
Which made me hesitate before I asked my next question. However, Randall Lenz knew damn well that I was less than happy to be plucked from the life I’d been trying to make for myself, so it wasn’t as though I was giving away any state secrets.
“And you don’t mind?” I asked. “Being here, I mean. Didn’t you all have lives somewhere out there?”
I gestured vaguely toward the ceiling, indicating the world at large. For a moment, none of them said anything, although Ethan and Natalie traded an uneasy glance.
To my surprise, it was Lorna who spoke first. “Of course, we did,” she said quietly. “But we also had spent most of our lives having to hide these things about ourselves. When we were approached by Agent Lenz and he explained to us that we were extraordinary people with extraordinary gifts, talents that could help our country, I think we all decided it was better to be someplace where we didn’t have to hide any longer.”
In a way, I could almost understand that particular motivation. It was exhausting to hide something that was an essential part of your being. On the other hand, I couldn’t believe they’d be so willing to walk away from family and loved ones.
“And the people you left behind…?” I said, then stopped myself, wishing I hadn’t asked.
Because what I saw on all their faces was a sort of pain I hadn’t really expected. Ethan’s fingers twined themselves with Natalie’s, his skin pale against hers. At the same time, I got the impression he’d reached out for her subconsciously, that it hadn’t been a calculated gesture at all.
Winds of Change Page 6