Aberrate

by Wendi Wilson

  “Okay,” I say, huffing out a breath. “One thing at a time. First we figure out how to stop Worth, get him off our backs and keep him from manipulating the whole country, then we’ll deal with the rest.”

  I smile at them and they smile back. I know that, together with our friends, we can do it. Together, we can do anything.

  After a smooth landing at the D.C. airport, we exit the terminal and find Savanna and the Patton triplets waiting for us by the baggage claim carousels. Once hugs and claps on the back are out of the way, our group herds out of the building toward the shuttle lines.

  We head straight for the hotel where Savanna and the boys are staying. They’ve already booked us the room next door to theirs, so we’re able to freshen up before crowding into their room for a debriefing session.

  “Gabe was able to text me earlier today,” Jett says, grabbing my attention.

  “He did? Are they okay?”

  I internally flinch at the panic in my voice. Silas gives me a strange look, like he’s trying to figure out why I’m so concerned. I need to keep a lid on my emotions, at least until I figure out what I want.

  “They’re fine,” Jett says. “They’ve settled into their new positions as gate guards at the White House.”

  “Gate guards?” Slade says, slightly incredulous. “Why doesn’t Worth just send us an embossed invitation to join him on the property?”

  “He doesn’t know we know them,” Beckett offers.

  “As far as we know,” Jett says.

  “Jett’s right,” I say. “You guys are from the same hometown. We need to be careful. Gabe and Rafe’s assignment could be a trap.”

  “I don’t know,” Wyatt says, his voice thoughtful. “Worth never tried to recruit us to his program so I think it may be safe to assume he doesn’t know about us.”

  Silence falls as we all consider Wyatt’s words. If the president knew about the Pattons, it’s a pretty safe bet that he’d have tried to recruit them years ago, while they were younger and more impressionable. My eyes widen as a thought occurs to me.

  “Didn’t you guys say your dad hated you?”

  I flinch at the insensitivity of my words and offer the boys an apologetic look. Jett brushes it off.

  “It’s okay,” he says. “We came to terms with that fact a long time ago. He did hate what we are, and blamed us for our mother’s death.”

  “So,” I say, nodding as I form my thoughts into words, “if he received a letter from the president of the United States, offering to give you a better life, would he tell you about it? Or would he ignore it?”

  Wyatt snorts. “If it got us out of his hair? He’d ship us off in a second.”

  “I don’t know,” Beckett responds, tapping his chin. “If he sent us away, he wouldn’t have the pleasure of verbally and mentally abusing us anymore.”

  I suck in a sharp breath as a thought occurs to me.

  “How did he die?” I ask in a soft voice.

  “A car accident. He ran a red light and got sideswiped coming home from a bar. He was drunk, his blood alcohol level way over the legal limit,” Wyatt answers.

  “What are you thinking?” Savanna asks me.

  “What if, and this is a big what if,” I say, holding up my palms. “What if the president made the accident happen? What if he killed your dad, then planned to swoop in and save the day by taking you into his program?”

  “But Uncle Earl beat him to the punch,” Jett says, his eyes unfocused as he thinks about my words.

  “It’s possible,” Beckett murmurs.

  “It’s crazy,” Slade says. “He wouldn’t kill someone to…”

  His voice trails off as he realizes the same thing as the rest of us. The president has killed to get what he wants. He killed Earl Patton without blinking an eye. It’s not beyond the realm of possibility that he’d kill the triplets’ dad to get his hands on them.

  “He’s never tried to recruit us,” Silas says, and all eyes snap to him. “Our parents would tell us. Nothing’s happened to ruin our lives. Everything is great and we don’t need to be saved. Just because bad things happened doesn’t automatically mean Worth is behind it. If he knew about you guys, then he had to have known about us, too.”

  “We shouldn’t assume anything, one way or the other,” Savanna says, her voice carrying a hint of finality. “We just need to be careful, only use the Davila twins if we absolutely have to, and form a plan to get Worth out of our lives, for good.”

  “Well, we need to come up with something fast because he’s expecting his elixir no later than tomorrow,” I say.

  “Of course,” she replies, swiping a palm across her forehead. “It’s so simple. We’re such idiots.”

  “Hey, speak for yourself, beautiful,” Wyatt says, poking her in the ribs.

  “Sorry. Sorry,” she says, looking around the room at each of us. “I didn’t mean that. I just realized…we don’t have to sneak into the White House when we can just ring the doorbell.”

  “I don’t know if the White House has a doorbell,” Jett mumbles, and Savanna shoves his shoulder.

  “I meant figuratively. We basically have an appointment. President Worth wants my blood—though he doesn’t actually know that’s what it is—and we’re going to bring it to him.”

  “But, we don’t want him to actually get his hands on it,” I say, “so we need a plan. Something like an old-fashioned bait and switch.”

  “Yes,” she exclaims, shooting me a big smile. “A bait and switch. We’ll make him think he’s getting exactly what he wants. Lull him into a false sense of victory so he gets careless.”

  I suck in a sharp breath, and all eyes in the room train on me.

  “I have an idea,” I say, “and I think it just might work.”

  14

  So, apparently, getting into the White House when you’re me isn’t so hard. With my anxiety over this whole situation and my rush to Savannah, I didn’t realize the president never gave me a way to contact him. No phone number to text, no secret entrance that requires a special password.

  So, with my friends piled into the van, I do the only thing I can—pull right up to the main entrance gate and roll down the window.

  “Please state your name and show some identification,” the guard says, clipboard in hand.

  “Lizzie Williams,” I say, pulling my driver’s license from my wallet and handing it over to him.

  He looks from my picture, to me, to his clipboard and nods. Handing my license back to me, he waves a hand toward the gatehouse. He turns and mumbles something into a radio before turning back to me. The gates slowly swing inward as he turns back, giving me directions to pull around the back and a valet will take the car.

  “The president is waiting for you in his study,” he says to me. “An assistant will be waiting for you just inside to lead the way.”

  “Well, that was easy,” Wyatt breathes as we pass through the gates.

  “A little too easy, if you ask me,” Silas adds.

  “He’s expecting us,” I say, pulling around the loop to the back entrance. “He’s not going to hinder us getting in when we have what he wants.”

  “Where will they take my mom’s van?” Slade asks as we pile out of the vehicle.

  “That’s what you’re worried about?” Jett responds, his tone snarky.

  Slade just shrugs. “Mom’ll kill us if anything happens to her car.”

  “Excuse me,” I say as the valet takes the keys from my hand. “Where are you taking the car?”

  “To the underground parking garage just up the street,” he replies. “When you’re ready to leave, just come here and we’ll radio an attendant to bring it back.”

  I nod despite the slight twinge in my gut. Valet parking kind of eliminates the possibility of a quick getaway. This needs to go off without a hitch, or we’re going to be in trouble. With no means of escape.

  As we enter the building, I pat the bulge in my beige messenger bag. One syringe in a padded zippe
r bag, filled with a saline solution and red food coloring.

  We decided to tell the president that there was only one dose left when I arrived in Savannah. If we give him more, we run the risk of him giving it to someone else and discovering they are not immune to persuasion. He’d know we tricked him.

  “Ms. Williams.”

  My head snaps up at the sound of my name to see Sarah Spade standing before me. I make introductions, though she’s actually met Savanna and the Pattons…she just doesn’t remember it because Savanna persuaded everyone to forget.

  She leads us up some stairs and down a long hallway, stopping before a closed door. Rapping her knuckles against the wood, she swings the portal open without awaiting a response. Holding out an arm, she ushers all seven of us through the door, closing it behind us.

  I spot the president standing beside a roaring fireplace, a tumbler of amber liquid in his hand. His eyes roam across our group, a calculating gleam shining in their depths.

  “Well, well, well. Ms. Williams, so nice to see you again,” he says, placing his glass on the mantle and stepping toward us. “I see you brought back-up.”

  He smirks, like the group of Alts closing ranks behind me don’t intimidate him in the least. His eyes lock on Savanna, who’s standing on my left, and narrow slightly. Panic builds in my chest as he stares at her silence for several beats. Does he recognize her? Is seeing her face making him remember what she did to him?

  He steps toward her, leaning in close to gaze into her eyes. His own eyes widen slightly and he takes a step back, out of Savanna’s personal space.

  “What do we have here?” he asks, his voice filled with wonder. “Your eyes are…different. You have the silver ring of an Alt, but the irises are blue instead of gray.”

  He seems to be talking to himself, like he’s trying to work out a puzzle. Savanna smiles, but it doesn’t reach the eyes Gregory Worth is so interested in. I glance from her, back to him, hoping he hasn’t noticed. He has.

  “Oh, and a little spitfire, too, I see,” he says with a chuckle, that calculating gleam back in his eyes.

  He looks over at me, saying, “Do you have what I want?”

  “I got it,” I say, reaching into my bag and pulling out the black zipper pouch.

  He reaches out a hand expectantly, but his eyes are back on Savanna. She meets his stare, her gaze defiant, and hitches her chin up a notch. She’s not afraid, not in the least. Her confidence boosts mine, and my heart actually beats a semi-normal rhythm as I hand over the pouch.

  Worth tears his eyes from my best friend and looks down as he unzips the bag. His brow crinkles as he pulls out the syringe and holds it up to the light.

  “This is it?” he asks, his gaze snapping to me. “Where’s the rest?”

  “That’s all there was,” I say, keeping my voice firm. “The church has been using it, and with Brother Earl gone, there was no one to make more. Only he knew the formula.”

  He stares at me with hooded eyes for so long, I feel an urge to squirm or, at the very least, lower my gaze. But I hold strong. He waits another few beats before looking away, and I silently release a pent up breath.

  “Are the effects permanent?” he asks, dropping the syringe back into the bag as he walks toward the fireplace and grabs his drink from the mantle.

  “As far as we can tell,” I say. “I received my dose months ago and I’m still unpersuadable.”

  “Excellent,” he replies, setting his glass back on the mantle.

  Laying the pouch on a nearby chair, he shrugs out of his jacket and unbuttons the cuff of his shirt. He’s going to give himself the injection right here, right now. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling with satisfaction.

  “Stop.”

  Savanna’s voice echoes through the room and everyone freezes. Everyone, save for her and me.

  “Jett, Wyatt, Beckett, Slade and Silas, you are released,” she says, and the boys collectively sag with relief.

  President Worth’s eyes dart from side to side, wide with alarm. I shoot a glance at Sarah. She’s not panicking like her boss, but her eyes are as wide as his. And trained on Savanna.

  “President Worth,” Savanna says, her voice firm, “you will take the injection and ask Sarah to attempt to persuade you. Only her, and no one else. Ever.”

  “Sarah,” she states, her eyes zeroing in on the girl, “any time President Worth asks you to persuade him, you will pretend to attempt it without actually using any persuasion. You will think you are using it, but you won’t.”

  The President grunts out a denial, trying to break the hold Savanna’s words have on him. I didn’t think it was possible, but Sarah’s eyes go even wider as the truth of this whole scenario sinks in. Not only is she being persuaded, which should be impossible, she’s being persuaded to be a traitor to her boss. Her hero.

  “Neither of you will remember being persuaded. When I snap my fingers, you will be released. It will seem as if not a second has passed.”

  Taking a deep breath, she presses her fingers together, but doesn’t snap. She tilts her head to the side, a thoughtful expression on her face.

  “After I snap, you also won’t remember your fascination with me and my eyes. Neither of you will even notice the difference.”

  A clicking noise echoes in the silence as she snaps.

  “This better work,” the president murmurs as he rolls up the sleeve of his dress shirt like nothing even happened.

  I make eye contact with Savanna before looking at Sarah. She stands where she was, patiently watching President Worth as he bites the cap off the syringe and sticks the needle into his bicep. Pressing the plunger, he sighs as the saline solution enters his body.

  “How long before it takes effect?” he asks, pushing the cap back onto the needle and dropping the syringe back into the black pouch.

  “The effects should be immediate,” I say, shaking my head.

  The man is insane. I could have put anything into that syringe. Cyanide, rat poison, antifreeze…the possibilities are limitless. He’s on such a huge power trip, the thought didn’t even occur to him that I might attempt to kill him.

  I cock my head to the side, remembering Savanna’s persuasive words. She did tell him to take the injection, so he didn’t really have a choice. If he had any doubts or fears before, her orders overrode them.

  Either way, we have him right where we want him.

  “Sarah,” he says, “try to persuade me. Something simple. Tell me to sit down in this chair.”

  Sarah strides over, bringing her face close to his so she can stare into his eyes. She lays one hand on his arm, and I see a slight caress before she grips it tight. Yuck. She totally has the hots for him. Bleh.

  “Mr. President,” she says, maintaining eye contact, “sit down in that chair.”

  I suck in a breath, sure the others are doing the same, as he stares at her. Then he starts to laugh.

  “Persuade me to do something else,” he chuckles.

  “Pat your head,” she says, lowering her brow like she’s really putting everything she’s got into the order.

  “Nothing,” he says, smiling in my direction. “It worked.”

  “Okay,” I say, taking a small step back, “if that’s all, we’ll be on our way.”

  “I’m afraid that won’t be possible, my dear.”

  “What?” I all but shout, confusion skittering through my brain.

  Granted, I should have known this was coming. I mean, the man is the leader of the free world and what we know could take him down. He’d lose his position, his power, his army of Alts…everything.

  He can’t let us leave, knowing what we know. He also can’t have one of his Alts persuade us to forget.

  “You and your merry band of Alt friends know too much,” he says, confirming my fears. “I can’t let you just waltz out of here, free to run your mouths about what you know.”

  “But—” I start to argue, but he cuts me off.

  “Sarah, call
security. Have these kids arrested. They persuaded themselves past my guards, snuck into my study and threatened me.”

  Sarah lifts her phone, but before she can even tap the first button, Savanna puts a halt to it.

  “Stop,” she says, and this time only the president and Sarah freeze.

  “You’re getting better at directing it in stressful situations,” Beckett says, his eyes shining with pride.

  Yeah, his girlfriend is a badass.

  “Yeah,” she says, “I wasn’t thinking about directing it earlier. I just sent the order out to the room, at large. This time I concentrated.”

  “Can we get on with it?” Silas asks, his voice a little edgy. “I really want to get out of here.”

  “Yeah, sorry,” Savanna says, then glances over at Sarah and President Worth. “When we walk out that door, you will forget that any of us exist. You got the last dose of the immunity elixir from an anonymous source at the Purist church.”

  “Quick thinking,” I murmur.

  If he remembers sending me to get the so-called elixir, he could hunt me down again. I want to be done with him. No more errands. No more threats.

  “You don’t know who sent it,” Savanna continues, “and you don’t care. The only thing that matters is that you are immune.”

  Two warm hands slide into each of mine and I glance from right to left. My guys are there, as usual, to offer support and comfort.

  “You ready?” Savanna asks, looking at me.

  I nod. “Definitely. Let’s go home.”

  15

  “Finally,” I moan as I throw myself onto our bed.

  The whole trip was stressful and tiring and it’s good to be home. Slade chuckles as Silas closes us in, locking the door behind him.

  My exhausted body perks up a bit at the sound of the lock clicking into place, but any anticipation I feel quickly fizzles out. I’m just too tired.

  The boys lay down, sandwiching me between them. Slade runs his arm under my pillow to cradle my head and Silas drapes an arm across my belly. They snuggle against me, getting comfortable, then fall still.