Aberrate

by Wendi Wilson

  “We’ll stop him,” Silas says with confidence. “He won’t get anywhere near her.”

  “That’s not a chance I’m willing to take,” I say. “Besides, I’m not one to let someone else fight my battles. I need to do this. I need to confront him.”

  My eyes plead with them to understand. Despite my best effort, Slade opens his mouth and I can already tell he’s going to argue some more.

  “Lizzie’s right,” Savanna says, cutting off whatever Slade was about to say. “She’ll be fine. We’ll meet him at a public place with lots of people around, we’ll all be there, and I will be using persuasion on the crowd to take care of him. Easy-peasy.”

  “I still don’t like it,” Silas says while Slade crosses his arms over his chest with a huff.

  “Well, it’s a good thing I make my own decisions,” I say, giving them each a pointed look before turning my attention to my phone.

  I tap out a message, then read aloud, “Meet me at the Stamford Town Center Mall. Today, four p.m. by the coffee shop. I’ll have what you want.”

  “Why not tomorrow?” Slade asks, a last-ditch effort to put this meeting off and give him more time to dissuade me from going, no doubt.

  “I want to get this over and done with,” I say, tapping the icon to send the message.

  There’s no turning back now.

  My phone starts ringing and I almost jump out of my skin. I look down to see Gabe’s name flashing on the screen and take a relieved breath. I don’t want to talk to Jimmy before our meeting. I swipe the screen to answer, then tap the speakerphone icon.

  “Hey, Gabe. You’re on speaker,” I say, placing the device on the island counter we’re all standing around.

  “Hey, is everyone there?” he asks, his voice low.

  Turning up the volume on my phone so we can hear him better, I say, “Yeah, we’re all here. Are you whispering?”

  “We’re in the second floor hallway, standing guard outside Christine Worth’s bedroom. So we need to keep it down.”

  “Have you guys talked to her at all about her dad?”

  “We tried,” Gabe says, “but she’s pretty quiet. She doesn’t talk much and barely answers us when we try to have a conversation with her.”

  “Well, keep trying,” Savanna says. “If you can get her to trust you, maybe she can give you some information on the president.”

  “Just ask her why she didn’t persuade Carl Evers to forget her persuasion,” Jett says.

  “That could scare her off,” Beckett reasons, “especially since she’s obviously an introvert.”

  “I don’t know,” I say, “maybe Jett’s right.”

  He slaps a hand across his chest and stumbles back, pretending to have a heart attack. I chuckle, shaking my head.

  “If you tell her what you know and convince her you’re on her side, not her father’s, maybe she’ll trust you,” I explain. “Maybe you should even tell her that you persuaded him to be assigned to her.”

  “What if she runs straight to daddy and tells him what we said? This whole thing could blow up in our faces,” Gabe says.

  “No,” Savanna chimes in, “I don’t think so. If she tells him, and that’s a very big if, what do you think he’ll do?”

  “Get an Alt to try to persuade him?” I offer.

  “Exactly,” she says.

  “Why is that a good thing?” Wyatt asks, obviously as confused as the rest of us.

  “Because,” Savanna explains, “when I persuaded him, I told him to only ever ask Sarah Spade to do it. And I persuaded her to always pretend. They have no knowledge of it. If Christine runs to him, he’ll confirm he’s still immune with Sarah and brush Gabe and Rafe’s claims off as lies.”

  “If she has a habit of persuading her dad to get what she wants, she probably already knows he’s not really immune, anyway,” Jett says.

  “Well, there’s one way to find out,” Gabe says.

  “Good,” I say. “And Gabe, you guys be careful with her. We may need her help.”

  “Of course,” he says.

  “Oh, and Gabe?” I say, “Have you met Harlow and Evie Levinson? Red hair? Freckles?”

  “No, but I did see a set of redheaded twins at the Alt meeting with the president.”

  “That has to be them. If you get a chance, can you check on them and make sure they’re okay?”

  “Sure, but, how do you know them?”

  “I don’t,” I say. “I know their mom. Long story. I’ll tell you later.”

  “Okay,” he says. “Talk to you soon.”

  “Bye.”

  After I end the call, the crowd in the kitchen breaks up, all of us going our separate ways to prepare for our meeting with Jimmy O’Connor.

  It’s time to end this.

  26

  As we walk through the mall, I take note of the people walking in and out of the shops. It’s Tuesday afternoon and, while there are plenty of people milling around, it’s not overly crowded. It’s perfect.

  I spot the big chain coffee shop with its green sign glowing up ahead and throw my arms out, halting our group. The Patton brothers have already split off and will be watching us from one of the benches along the middle of the mall walkway. They’re wearing baseball caps and sunglasses, hoping Jimmy will be stupid enough to pass by without noticing them.

  Savanna and the Madsens are with me, which is why I stopped before we reach the meeting point.

  “You guys need to go hide somewhere,” I say, looking pointedly at Silas and Slade.

  “What? No,” Slade argues. “We’re staying with you.”

  I shake my head, saying, “Jimmy O’Connor is a coward who likes to hit women. If it’s just me and Savanna, he has nothing to fear. She can’t persuade him, so he’ll think he’s safe. If two big, muscular athletes are with us, he may not approach.”

  “Lizzie, he wants that blood. Bad,” Silas says, pointing at the big duffle bag Slade is carrying.

  We decided to bring the blood with us. Jimmy could be watching the house, waiting for us all to leave so he can have his guys break in. He might not show at all.

  But if he does show, and he does take the bag, he’s in for one hell of a surprise.

  “He won’t leave without it,” Slade adds.

  “He might,” I argue. “He could leave and make us reschedule for another time, another place not to our liking. Please. You can stay close, just keep out of sight.”

  The boys each nod and walk away, not liking this plan one bit. I understand their need to protect me, especially after my PTSD incident, but I really need to do this my way. I need to feel like I’m in control for a while. I’ve been out of control for far too long.

  Savanna and I give each other bolstering looks, then head toward the coffee shop. My eyes skitter from right to left, but I keep my head still. I spot the Pattons nearby, lounging on a bench with their phones out in front of them, though I know the eyes behind their sunglasses are trained on me and Savanna, not their screens.

  Silas and Slade actually slip inside the coffee shop. Also hidden behind ball caps and dark sunglasses, they take seats in the middle of the shop with a direct view of the tables set up outside the door. The tables where Jimmy O’Connor is already seated, watching us approach.

  “You brought back-up, I see,” he drawls.

  My heart jumps, thinking he’s spotted the guys, but he just nods his greasy head at Savanna. His smile turns predatory, and I swallow down the bile trying to rise up my esophagus. The man is truly disgusting.

  “You know she can’t use her demon powers on me, right?” he asks when we don’t respond to his first statement.

  “You expected me to come alone? After what happened last time I saw you?” I spit out.

  If possible, his leer gets even more disgusting, like he’s remembering his abuse of me and it’s turning him on. Some of that bile makes its way into my mouth.

  “Oh, you know you enjoyed it, Sister Lizzie,” he says. “You liked having my hands on you—
”

  “Enough,” Savanna says, cutting off his lewd words. “We have what you want, so let’s get to it.”

  “Ooh, so demanding,” he taunts. “I like it.”

  He runs his tongue out between his lips in a crude manner, but Savanna doesn’t flinch. I can actually feel the heat of anger coming off of her, and I know she’s about to lose that famous southern temper, so I drop the bag on floor between us and Jimmy. The clanking sound of the lockboxes hitting the tile floor break them both out of their standoff.

  Jimmy leans over and pulls the bag toward him. I meet Savanna’s eyes and we give each other hopeful looks. This has to work.

  Jimmy pulls out a box and holds it toward me. “Open it.”

  I take it and arch a brow at him. “I can open it, but it won’t do you any good once you get back to Savannah. I need to change the locks to work on your fingerprint.”

  I press my thumb against the screen and the light flashes from red to green as the box clicks open. I press my finger against it again, then turn it toward Jimmy. He reaches out and presses his own thumb to the screen, making the light flash green twice more.

  He snatches the box toward his chest, tipping open the lid and peeking inside while making sure no one else can see. I dart my eyes toward Jett, and he gives me a slight, almost imperceptible nod.

  Everything is set.

  “You don’t need to check the others. It’s all there,” I say, my heart thumping with nervous tension as he snaps the lid shut and places the box back into the bag.

  He takes the bait, saying, “Oh, like I’d trust you, you stupid bitch.”

  He pulls out another box, pressing his thumb to the screen. The light flashes green and he smiles like he thought it might not work. Like he’s tried to open those boxes a hundred times and only ever seen a red light.

  Savanna’s shoulder bumps into mine lightly and I look up, noticing the two men in black walking toward us. My eyes dart back to Jimmy, who’s already digging through the bag again. My breathing accelerates as I silently pray he finds it in time.

  “What the hell?” he says.

  That’s my cue.

  “Help!” I shout. “He has a gun!”

  The two policemen dart toward us, guns drawn and pointing right at Jimmy. His hand is free of the bag by this point, and he’s holding the black revolver. He looks at it like he can’t believe it’s in his hand, then at me, then the policemen who are shouting at him to drop the gun.

  His eyes widen as he realizes what we’ve done, a mask of pure hatred transforming his face. He looks back at me and raises the gun in my direction.

  “You stupid b—”

  A loud popping sound cuts him off and he flies backward, toppling from his chair. The world stops spinning, just a split second of silence before all hell breaks loose.

  The revolver skitters across the floor as people start to scream and run from the area. Silas and Slade are by my side in an instant, and the Pattons are on Savanna just as quickly. We watch as the police move forward, cautiously watching Jimmy for any movement toward other possible weapons.

  But he doesn’t move. The police don’t have anything to worry about and neither do we. Not anymore.

  Jimmy O’Connor is dead.

  27

  The man, identified as Jimmy O’Connor, was killed in an officer-related shooting today at Town Center mall in Stamford. The victim was a prominent member of the Divine Church of Purity in Savannah, Georgia. His reason for being in town are unclear, as is his motive for pulling a gun on two teenagers. More on that story as the facts come in.

  I pick up the remote and turn off the television with a sigh. I glance over at Savanna and she looks back at me, shrugging her shoulders. The guys are somewhere else in the house…pouting. Maybe pouting isn’t the right word, but they are upset with us. We insisted on facing Jimmy alone and he almost shot us.

  Somehow, in their minds, we’re the ones at fault, not the man who pointed a gun at us.

  “Is it wrong that I don’t even feel guilty? A man is dead,” I say, “and all I can feel is relief. I’m a terrible person.”

  “You are not a terrible person,” she says. “Jimmy O’Connor was an awful human being. He manipulated people. He hurt you, and threatened to do the same to your thirteen year old sister. Thirteen. I know things didn’t go exactly as we planned, but you have no reason to feel guilty. He turned that gun on us and became a threat in the eyes of those policemen. He got what he deserved.”

  I lean back, closing my eyes, and think about our plan and how it all went wrong. At some point during the group discussion, we decided that having a bunch of random people beat the shit out of Jimmy, while satisfying, wouldn’t really solve our problem. He’d still be around. He’d still be a threat to my sister.

  That’s when a new plan started to form.

  What if we could get him arrested, instead? We assumed it would be so easy. Jett and Wyatt went to a pawn shop and bought the revolver, putting Jimmy’s name on the purchase agreement and persuading the owner to think he’d checked “Jimmy O’Connor’s” identification and received all the proper permits.

  We planted it in the bag after wiping it clean of our prints, knowing Jimmy would grab it and pull it out, getting his own prints all over it. All we needed was the police to be nearby, which the Patton’s took care of when we got to the mall. There’s a police station branch inside the building, and they simply went and persuaded two cops they wanted coffee and should leave at four o’clock to get it.

  I’d yell “gun,” Jimmy would be arrested and we’d buy ourselves some time to get Dr. Sang’s vaccine out to the public without having to worry about what he’s up to. Of course, things went sideways when the idiot turned the gun on us right in front of the police.

  “Do you think they’ll figure out why he had all that blood?” Savanna asks.

  “I don’t know,” I say. “Maybe not right away, but if someone in the church blabs about being immune to persuasion and how they got that immunity, I’m sure the police will come talk to us.”

  “And the boys will probably want to persuade them to go away,” she replies.

  “Damn straight, we would,” Jett says, walking into the living room with the other four boys filing in behind him.

  “Are you guys done being mad?” she teases as her boys crowd around her, Beckett and Jett on either side of her and Wyatt on the floor by her feet.

  Silas pulls me up from the sofa and sits in my spot, pulling me down onto his lap. Slade takes a seat on the armrest beside us.

  “Yes, we’re still mad, but we don’t trust you two on your own,” Jett says.

  “Oh, like you couldn’t hear every word we said,” Savanna shoots back.

  “We heard,” Slade admits, “and we, all of us, have nothing to feel guilty over. That asshole made his own choices. He got exactly what he deserved.”

  Before anyone can respond, my phone starts to ring. I look at the screen and say, “It’s Rafe,” before I swipe the screen to answer it.

  “Lizzie,” he says, the stress evident in his voice, “you guys need to come here. Now. Get here as fast as you can.”

  “What? What’s happening?”

  “I can’t explain. I have to go. Just come.”

  The line goes dead, and I look around the room, feeling a bit bewildered. Despite not putting him on speaker, I can tell the others heard what he said. I try to dial him back, but the connection takes me straight to voicemail.

  I hop up from Silas’s lap and turn to face everyone. “I guess we’re going to D.C.”

  Savanna pushes herself off the couch, saying, “Even if we leave right now, we won’t get there until at least midnight.”

  “Maybe we should wait and take off in the morning,” Beckett offers.

  “No,” I say, shaking my head, “I don’t think this can wait. Let’s go pack a couple of days’ worth of clothes and get going. If they call back with more details, at least we’ll already be on our way.”


  Everyone seems to agree with me, because they all get up and head upstairs without another word. I follow them up, heading straight for the room I share with the twins. Silas and Slade already have backpacks out, stuffing a few changes of clothes into them.

  I grab the empty bag they’ve left on the bed for me and start to fill it. After adding some personal essentials on top of the clothes, I look up to find the boys staring at me.

  “What?” I ask.

  “This has been a very long, very stressful day. For you, especially,” Silas says. “Are you sure you’re up for this?”

  “I’m fine,” I say. “I can handle it.”

  Silas nods, zipping up his backpack before sitting down to pull on his shoes. He’s not going to argue with me or insist that I take it easy, or stay safe, or anything else an overprotective boyfriend might say.

  “Hey, Lizzie,” Slade says, pulling my attention from his brother.

  He looks like he wants to say something, but snaps his mouth shut on the words before they come out. The he just smiles, saying, “I love you.”

  I move toward him, wrapping my arms around his waist and leaning into his chest. He pats my shoulders, then my arms, before very slowly and gently putting his arms around me and hugging me back. He’s nervous, scared I’m going to break and flip out on him like I did earlier.

  “Slade,” I whisper, looking up at him without pulling away, “I’m going to be okay. I’m going to get through this whole situation with the president and come out the other side a stronger person. When it’s over, I’ll work on fixing what’s broken inside me. I promise, we’ll get back to where we were.”

  “I know we will,” he says, pecking a kiss on my nose, “because you’re strong and amazing and resilient. And you never let anything hold you back or keep you down.”

  I lift myself up onto tiptoes and press my lips to his. Slade’s kiss is gentle and sweet and everything I need it to be in this moment.

  “I love you,” I say, then pull out of his arms to look at Silas. “And you, too. I love you both, so much. Thank you for being patient with me.”