“Actually, we wanted to talk to you,” Depogare said. “We’re looking for someone.”
“So, you’re not on a date?” CC asked.
“Absolutely not,” Depogare replied, clearly affronted.
“He wishes,” Will put in, following CC in the café. “We’re looking for a girl; five foot seven, long red hair, blue eyes. She’s eighteen. Might have been with two older people, her parents.”
Caroline paused for a moment, her brow furrowing again; this time, she was deep in thought. Depogare started looking around the restaurant in a subtle way. If Will had to guess, he was probably searching for people or energy to read. He didn’t know how the mentals did what they did. He didn’t know if Depogare was reading minds or if he was even allowed to based on ethics without attaining consent from the involved parties. However, Depogare never did anything without reason, so Will knew he was doing something.
The atmosphere was less than crowded with only a few people scattered across the small building. It didn’t surprise him, considering it was during that awkward in-between time after lunch but before dinner. There was a couple, an old man drinking coffee and reading the newspaper and a transient eating a burger. Shift change was probably at this time as well, so if he needed to interview the server who waited upon Sophie and her parents, he might have to come back.
But, there was probably a good chance she was back at campus, and a follow-up wasn’t unnecessary. He hoped.
“There aren’t many redheads who come in,” CC pointed out, her hands on her hips. She must be on her feet the whole day, causing pain in her lower back. Putting pressure on her hips probably eased that, if a little. “There was one who did come in today, though. Really pretty.” Her brows furrowed again and Will couldn’t help but think that was the natural state of her face. “She wasn’t with her parents, though.”
“They might look younger than parents for a typical eighteen year old,” Will explained as Depogare walked back over to him.
“I need to talk to you,” Depogare murmured under his breath. His voice came out in a hush, and Will was almost positive CC didn’t hear it. “It’s vitally important.”
“The guy she was with looked like he might be her brother in terms of age,” Caroline corrected. “There was no woman, and definitely no parents.”
“She doesn’t have a brother,” Will corrected.
“I never said she did,” CC replied, defensive.
“We really must speak,” Depogare put in.
“The guy the redhead was with looked to be a little older than she was, like a brother. Your age, maybe. But the way he was looking at her, the way he held onto her hand when they left definitely was not of the sibling nature, if you catch my drift.” She winked. “You know those young girls, always causing trouble. Good for her, I say. The guy was a looker, too. Very polite. Hint of a German accent. I liked him, which is a big deal because, quite frankly, I don’t like anyone.”
Will forced a smile and Depogare shot him an ‘I told you we need to speak right this instant so let’s hop to it, okay?!’ look.
“Thank you for your time,” Depogare said, forcing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He grabbed Will’s forearm and proceeded to lead him out of the café.
Will could have sworn CC muttered something under her breath about accents and how they made men seem much more attractive than they were, even Southern accents.
“It’s Michael,” Will said with clenched teeth, once the two were outside and heading over to the golf cart. He ripped his arm away from Depogare, not intentionally defensive. When Will was frustrated, the last thing he wanted was to be touched by anyone. “Michael took her.”
“It does appear so,” Depogare replied, his palm covering his chin, deep in thought. “Wouldn’t Sophie realize it wasn’t her mother’s handwriting in the letter?”
“She hasn’t seen her mother in years,” Will explained. “Might not even remember what the woman’s handwriting looked like.” His fingers went to his hair and pulled, needing pain to get his thoughts to quiet and to keep from feeling numb. All he could hear was his pulse pumping in his ears, filling the silence with impending worry, anxiety, and anger.
“Why would he want her?” Depogare asked.
“He knows what she is.” Will’s tone was defensive, but he wouldn’t take it back.
Depogare narrowed his eyes. “I know that,” he said. He climbed into the passenger seat of the golf cart, his expression pensive. Will didn’t need to be a mind reader to know he was still thinking, still trying to put the pieces of everything together. “But why come for her? What’s his purpose in all of this?”
“She is what he is,” Will said. “Physicals are drawn to each other.” He took a seat next to Depogare and clenched the wheel as though his life depended on it. There was a good chance Sophie’s might. “He wants to be with her. Populate the earth with more physicals.”
“Just because they’re both physicals does not mean their offspring will be,” Depogare pointed out.
“Can we not talk about their offspring?” Will all but yelled as he started the golf cart. Depogare gave him a look, but said nothing. Will clenched his jaw. “Now what? We need to find her. We need to get her back. What do we do?” He sounded desperate but he didn’t care. “What do we do?”
“We return to the academy,” Depogare said in a calm voice. “We go to Professor Neal and see if there’s anything in her cards.”
Will wanted to argue, but knew he was right. With a growl, he yanked the wheel and started heading back to the academy.
26
By the time Brielle returned Jane to her temporary living arrangement, the sun was setting. When Jane plopped on the bed, she still smiled. It was nice to be around girls again. It was nice to talk about boys and soccer and trivial things that meant absolutely nothing to most people. It was nice to know that she wasn’t the only sucker in love.
Apparently, Brielle was in Depogare’s position, while Kessler was more like Jane. It was an interesting view, to hear it from the opposite side, and Jane hated to admit it, but Brielle made some good points. Apparently, the two were clear on their feelings. It was all out on the table, so there was no doubt about where the two stood with each other. Neither was sure if love defined their feelings just yet, but they both respected, admired, and cared for each other quite a bit. They kissed once, and Brielle had initiated it.
“My dorm mates were drinking sparkling cider – you know, the kind with alcohol in it? - and offered me a glass,” she explained as they walked around the campus. AckPec was on their left, the dorms on their right. The sky was turning purple, as it usually did when it was time to set for the day. “One glass turned into three. It was the day before Christmas Eve—they were leaving early the next morning, and I guess they didn’t care whether or not they were hungover because there were three bottles and counting when I walked in. I’m not close to them, but I think that in the spirit of the holidays, they extended an olive branch, so to speak.
“On my fourth glass, they dared me to do something completely out of character and to come back only when I did it. I don’t know why I went to the nurse’s station,” she giggled, shaking her head, “he hates when people call it that. He always says he didn’t go to medical school to be referred to as a nurse.
“Anyway, I wound up there. He was sad and pathetic, as he usually is when he’s in a bad mood. And, the thing about Kessler, he’s always in a bad mood. It’s why they call him the Prickly Med, or, to shorten it, a prick.” She paused, using her free hand to push errant chestnut strands out of her face. “He was there, reading a book. I don’t remember which book, but it was thick and technical. If I had been there for any logical reason, I might have enjoyed it. He was wearing these glasses—thin-rimmed glasses that made him look older than he was, and somehow vulnerable. He looked … striking, I think is the right word, because even in my tipsy haze, I couldn’t help but stare at him, mouth open, like a goldfish.”
Her flush deepened, and Jane patted her encouragingly on the back. “Hey, we’ve all been there,” she said.
“He looked surprised to see me, and immediately knew I was drunk. I started rambling, I think about how ridiculous his eyes were with the shirt he was wearing. He smirked then, that kind of smirk that makes people want to slap him. I tried to.”
“Slap him?” Jane asked, surprised.
Brielle nodded, laughing. “Trust me, I’ve been wanting to do that since the beginning of school,” she replied with a smile so big, her eyes crinkled. Jane didn’t think she had ever seen Brielle smile that big before. “He grabbed my wrist, gently. His smirk only deepened, and this, of course, did nothing for my frustration. And then, Jane, he laughed.”
“Shut. Up.”
“I’m not kidding. He chuckled all deep and masculine. And then he brought my wrist to his lips and kissed it right here.” She showed Jane her right wrist, and Jane could see the goose bumps running up and down her arm remembering the experience. Jane couldn’t blame her. “And I couldn’t help myself. I told him straight up. I remember, I said, I’m so in love with you, and I kissed him.”
“Did he kiss you back?” Jane asked, pressing up her brow.
“You bet he did!” Brielle exclaimed. “He had no qualms kissing me even though I was clearly tipsy and he knew it. But he only kissed me once. Well, I kissed him. He said he didn’t want to take advantage of me in my state, as much as he wanted to do it over and over again, and in different places.”
“He did not say that.”
“He did.”
“Wow.” Jane paused, letting Brielle’s words sink in. “So what’s the problem?”
“I don’t want to get him in trouble,” Brielle replied. “I’m going through a lot of things myself, things I don’t understand and I’m not sure how to handle. Kessler’s helping me as much as he can, but I’m afraid I’m going to take my issues out on him. Plus, even though the guy doesn’t look any older than you and me, technically he was born in the fifties, so his experience trumps mine.”
“Who cares?” Jane said before she could stop herself. “Depogare is thousands of years old. Experience doesn’t mean anything for the reason that each and every moment is new. Look, I don’t want to tell you what to do, and I have no idea just what it is you’re going through, but Kessler is into you and he wants you, too. I get that you want to protect him and his job, but I would do anything for Depogare to allow himself to look at me the way Kessler does at you when he thinks no one’s watching. Don’t be afraid of anything, Brie. Take a chance, especially if you have it.”
Brielle shot Jane a half-smile. “Come on,” she said. “We should probably get you to your room. Once you’re settled, I’ll grab you dinner.”
“Thanks,” Jane replied. “You know, I really enjoy talking to you. Will you come back tomorrow?” She hadn’t meant to sound so hopeful, like a little kid wanting to play with new friends but shy and unsure, yet she did.
“Of course,” Brielle answered. “I like talking to you, too. I don’t know why, but I feel like I can trust you.”
“I’m glad.” And Jane meant it.
“Where the hell have you been?” Depogare asked the minute Jane and Brielle stepped into the flat. “I’ve been tearing my place apart looking for you, and I’ve sent Will to search the campus in hopes to find you. You can’t just leave, Jane.”
Jane’s defenses were triggered and she felt her temper flare. “Actually, I can,” Jane said. “Brielle took me for a walk as part of my physical therapy.”
Depogare glanced at Brielle briefly, but he didn’t truly see her. His focus was Jane and Jane alone. He had never looked this mad before; she didn’t understand why he was upset with her. She couldn’t stay in his room forever. She had to get out, to explore, feel fresh air, and remind herself that there’s a real world outside his flat. She couldn’t stay with him forever, as much as she might want to.
“Why are you being like this?” Jane asked, her green eyes flickering over to Will. “What happened? What did you find out?”
Both men looked over at Brielle without meaning to. There was a clear indication that they didn’t trust her, and they weren’t going to speak clearly while she was there. Brielle, ever sweet, ever polite, smiled—and Jane saw it was genuine—and excused herself to go.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes to grab you dinner,” she promised.
“Brie, you can stay,” Jane said. “I trust you.”
“I know,” Brielle stated as she made her way to the door. “I appreciate that. But they need to talk to you. And while you trust me, I completely understand that they don’t.” Another smile. “I’ll be back.” And with that, she disappeared out the door.
“Brielle is the reason I’m getting better, physically,” Jane said before she could stop herself. “She should know what’s going on.”
“Kessler is the reason you’re better,” Depogare pointed out. “Brielle just assists him. Kessler healed you.”
“It doesn’t matter whether or not you trust the girl,” Will said. “We don’t.”
“When did you guys team up to save the world?” Jane asked, and she could hear how snotty that sounded.
Before she could respond, Will interrupted. “Cut the crap, kid,” he said, his whole body tensing with frustration. “Sophie’s gone. We think Michael took her.”
“What? How is that even possible?”
Will explained everything, from the letters Sophie received from her parents to their theory that it was all a ploy to get Sophie to the café so Michael could kidnap her. Jane didn’t understand why he would want to do that, and while Will and Depogare had their theories, nothing was definite.
“We don’t want people to know,” Will said. “After what happened with Brielle …”
“She didn’t know that girl was using her,” Jane said, defensive of her friend. “You don’t realize how bad she feels about the whole thing. I think that’s why she comes and visits. Not because she has to, but because she feels she can make up for the whole club ordeal. You don’t understand.”
“Maybe not, but just because she feels guilty doesn’t mean we need to tell her what’s going on,” Will replied.
Jane wanted to argue, but stopped herself. If this had been her decision, she would tell Brielle, no problem. But it wasn’t. This had to do with Sophie, and it was Will’s call. She trusted Will to do what was best for Sophie, even if she didn’t agree with him. That didn’t mean that Jane had to like how Depogare was speaking to her, however.
“Why are you yelling at me?” Jane asked, turning on him. “You told me I couldn’t come, so I decide to do something productive without you, and now you come back, upset that I left?”
“I am allowed to worry about you,” Depogare returned, with just as much bite in his tone. Jane was surprised at the passion radiating throughout his body. She couldn’t recall if she had ever seen him this way before. “With Sophie taken by Michael—”
“Are we sure Michael is the one who took her?” Jane asked, suppressing a shiver that slid down her spine. She clearly remembered the way he had stared at her, once he knew what she could do.
Will nodded. “Café owner described him to a T,” the shifter replied. “Right down to the German accent.” He paused. “Would you have any idea why he would want her? You were there that night at the club. Did he say anything? Maybe mention it?”
Jane pressed her lips together. “I don’t know,” she said. “I came later, after everything happened.” After Cillian … But she shrugged the thought off, not willing to pay attention to it. What had happened that night seemed so far away, so long ago. Maybe she would let herself think about it in more detail when she was fully recovered, but now was not the time. “I dropped the chandelier on him, and he escaped. He just told Sophie he’d be back for her. Me too.”
“You?” Will asked, quirking his brow. “Why you?”
Jane shot a look at Depogare, and the professor nodded.
<
br /> “Jane is much more than an animus, Will,” he explained. “She, like me, is a quis. She can read minds and perform telekinesis on stagnant objects, though she is still in the process of her training.”
“He somehow knew I could do both,” Jane said. “He knows what I can do.”
“So that’s it then,” Will remarked, “he’s collecting rare peculiars with abnormal power structures.” A pause. “But why?”
“I’m not concerned with the why just yet,” Depogare said, his face pale. “If Michael promised to return not only for Miss Harper, but Jane as well, there is a very good chance he is responsible for Jane’s attack.”
27
“Where are you taking me?” Sophie asked as Michael led her away from the café and into a compact car.
It was a flashy luxury car that he must have had transported to the island, which was dumb in Sophie’s opinion, because such a car was sure to stand out. It was a silver Mercedes, and Sophie tried to memorize every detail of it. Light, leather interior. A strong, new scent caused her head to cloud. Windows were tinted. She wasn’t sure how it would help her, per se, but better safe than sorry.
“There’s a special meeting tonight,” Michael answered, sitting next to her in the backseat of the car. His German accent was crisp, causing his voice to be subtle but commanding. Sitting next to him gave her shivers, and Sophie didn’t think it had much to do with the fact that he had kidnapped her. “A gala, if you will. The government is hosting an exclusive event, you see.”
Sophie furrowed her brow and all but scooted over to her door. She already checked the locks on the door, and even though she had the power to rip it open and throw herself out—they weren’t going that fast, after all—she held back. Maybe obtaining this information would help her, help Ethan and the rest of the peculiars. She’d be able to hold her own, even against him.
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