Jeremy let his hand fall. “Listen, I was trying to help those people. You don’t—”
“Next time, don’t. Stupid people get other people killed, especially when you try to help.”
Jeremy was ready to answer, but before he could say anything a new voice called from across the room, “Hey Mirror!”
He looked over toward the television and saw a man scramble over the back of the leather couch. The guy fell and hit the floor, but in the next second he was up again, back on his feet, and running toward the group. He seemed older to Jeremy, mid-twenties maybe, with a thin black beard running from his sideburns, down his jaw, and ending in a neatly trimmed goatee. His skin was olive, and his short hair was dark black.
As he reached the group, he engulfed Lara in a huge hug, lifting her off her feet. “It’s good to see you again, mija!”
He spun her around once in the air, set her down, and then turned to Jeremy; he held out his hand. “And you’re Jeremy, right? The boy who got hit by the bus and lived? Like Harry Potter. It’s nice to meet you, man.”
“Yeah,” Jeremy reached out to shake hands, but the other man pulled him in close, wrapped his arm around Jeremy’s back, and hugged him, slapping him hard across the shoulders twice.
“My name’s Carlos, but everyone just calls me Talon. I see you met our resident ice queen—”
Nyx narrowed her eyes at him. “According to who? The resident jackass?”
“Jackass?” Talon winked. “That’s not what you were calling me last night, mija.”
Nyx flipped up both her middle fingers.
Talon only laughed at the gesture, “You see that? She’s cold, man. I told you.” He looked at Lara. “I told you before, Nyx’s real power is her personality.”
Nyx rolled her eyes. “You need to grow up.” She turned back to Lara. “I’m going to bed. It’s good to have you back, Mirror.” She turned away from the group and started to her room.
Lara looked over at Talon and whispered, “Why do you mess with her like that? You know how she gets.”
Talon smiled. “Who, Nyx? It’s part of her training. She needs to lighten up, you know?”
“Well one of these days she’s going to light you up.”
Talon smirked. “No way. I’m like her big brother or something. She’d never—”
“Sometimes big brothers get smacked,” Lara said.
Talon waved his hand like he was brushing the comment aside; instead he turned back to Jeremy, changing the conversation. “So? How about it, big guy? Are you ready for all this?”
Jeremy was confused. “Ready for what?”
“Are you ready to see what I can do or not?”
Jeremy glanced over at Lara. “Uh, I’m not—I’m not really supposed to—”
“Yeah, I know. She told you not to ask, right?” Talon pushed up his sleeves. “She told me the same thing. But you didn’t ask, right? This is all volunteer.”
Talon raised his hand, and at first Jeremy couldn’t see anything remarkable about it. Then, slowly, a blue-green mist swirled over his fingers, building, covering his whole hand. Jeremy looked closer, and he could see it wasn’t a mist at all; they were turquoise flames.
A thin vapor of flame, like the last flicker of a campfire before it’s lost in the night sky, danced over Talon’s fingers, spiraling around his hand. Then Talon closed his hand and the fire collapsed. It was thicker now, darker, spinning faster around his hand. Suddenly, it all stopped and the fire was gone. In its place, a single turquoise blade rose from the back of Talon’s hand, long and sharp.
Talon turned his hand over, giving Jeremy a better view of the blade. It was a pale aquamarine, almost translucent, and crystalline. “Pretty cool, right? The doctors say I’m converting raw energy into matter.”
Jeremy reached out to touch it.
Talon recoiled, stepping back and knocking Jeremy’s arm out of the way. “You don’t want to do that, man. No offense, but this thing will go right through you. They told me it’s burning at like... a thousand degrees or something.”
Jeremy pulled back his hand, still rapt by the phantom blade. “Can you make anything else? With the energy, I mean?”
“You better believe it. Here, watch this.” Talon turned his hand over and opened his fist. There was another cloud of the turquoise smoke around his hand, but the blade was gone. Instead, five short claws rose from the tips of his fingers.
“They call me Talon for a reason, right?”
“You’re getting better at that; quicker transitions.” Lara was still smiling, but Jeremy thought she looked different now—tired.
“Thanks, mija. I’ve been putting in the training hours, you know?”
Lara nodded. “I can see that.” She paused. “Talon, where’s—”
“I’m right here.”
The voice came from the left side of the room. It was deep and gravelled, like the words barely made it out of the speaker’s throat. Jeremy, Lara, and Talon all turned to look. Behind them, waiting in one of the open doorways, a man stood watching. He was tall, well over six feet, with broad shoulders and a powerful frame. He was dressed in a skintight suit from head to toe, blood-red with intricate black scrollwork across the chest and down the arms and legs. On both of his forearms and again over both of his shoulders he wore heavy black armor, and his whole head was encased in a blood-red helmet—except for the eyes. The eyes were shielded by jet black lenses. The hilt of a broadsword rose from behind the man’s shoulder. Jeremy thought he looked like the perfect amalgamation of science fiction and samurai warrior. The man stood in the open doorway, his arms folded, waiting, and even though Jeremy couldn’t see the eyes behind his helmet, he could feel the man staring.
Talon spoke first. “Jeremy, this is Gauntlet.”
For a second nothing happened; then Jeremy roused himself to action, stepping forward with his hand outstretched. “Hey, it’s nice to meet you.”
“We’ll see.” Gauntlet stepped past him, ignoring the handshake; he was focused instead on Lara. “Did you do what I asked?”
Lara bristled, folding her arms across her chest. “No, I didn’t. And I told you I wouldn’t.”
Gauntlet scoffed behind his helmet and turned his head, staring off at a far corner of the room. “And why not?”
Lara shifted her weight. “It’s a breach of protocol. We don’t use the government’s resources to search for ex-girlfriends. Besides, you don’t get to act like a jerk and then expect people to do you favors. That’s not the way the world works, and it’s sure not the way I work. If you want me to help you, then you help me first. You let me get a reading, a real reading from you, and I’ll take your request up to the major.”
Gauntlet growled. “I’d be careful, Mirror. Blind loyalty is dangerous.”
“So is insubordination.”
Gauntlet turned and walked back, brushing past Jeremy, still ignoring him. He walked through the doorway, and the door slid shut behind him.
Jeremy looked back and forth between Talon and Lara. “What was that about?”
Talon shrugged. “Nothing. That’s just Gauntlet, man. That’s how he is—how he always is.”
Jeremy still stared at the door. “What’s his name? I mean his real name?”
Talon shrugged again. “No one knows.”
Then Lara found her voice; she even sounded tired now. “Listen, Jeremy, you have one last test. It’s your entrance interview with me. Talon, if you’ll excuse us.”
“Yeah, sure thing, mija.” Talon started back toward the TV and the couches. “Nice to meet you, Jeremy. We’ll see you soon. Mirror, glad you’re back.”
Lara turned and walked to the first door on the right side of the room. It opened and she stepped inside. Jeremy followed.
Chapter 9
The door slid shut behind him as Jeremy stepped into the room, and he knew right away things here were different. For starters, he was standing on carpet—thick beige carpet—and the walls of the room were dark and wood-p
aneled. A painting of a farmhouse hung on the wall to his right. The lighting inside the room was darker too. No overhead fluorescents here. Instead, a pair of floor lamps stood in diagonal corners, filling the room with an amber glow. In another corner he saw a potted houseplant. Finally, in the center of the room, there were two wide chairs facing each other, both of them upholstered in dark, brown leather and shaped as almost perfect cubes.
Lara walked to the far chair and sat down; she motioned for Jeremy to do the same. “Welcome to your first debriefing, Jeremy.”
Jeremy walked around the chair and sat down.
Everything about the room was designed to put a person at ease—he realized that—but for Jeremy it did the opposite. “This looks more like a doctor’s office than a military briefing room.”
“Maybe it’s both.” Lara reached down into her purse and retrieved her tablet. “There are no recording devices allowed in here, but I will be taking notes. Is that okay?”
Jeremy nodded.
“We’re going to meet at least once a day, maybe more. This first interview is a chance for you to get comfortable with me, and, in a very real sense, it’s my opportunity to get comfortable with you. Everyone’s different, Jeremy, and I need to learn how to read you. So then, are you ready?”
Jeremy nodded again. “Yeah.”
He understood it now. Lara was like a therapist times ten. She could get right to the source of the problem—cut through all the bullshit. For Jeremy, it was a terrifying thought. Then again, he could think of worse ways to spend an hour than talking to Lara. He edged forward on the chair, holding out his hand.
Lara reached into her purse again; this time she pulled out the red Pinewood derby car she had taken from his house. “This will work. It’s why I took it in the first place. I hope you don’t mind.”
Jeremy flushed; he sat back in his chair. “No. It’s just—it’s fine.”
Lara held the car between her hands and closed her eyes. Jeremy watched her in silence. Her nose scrunched and she twisted her head like she was following some distant thought, tracing it back.
She shook her head. “I still can’t get a good read on you.” She opened her eyes. “All I see is the big picture; the strong emotions like anger or embarrassment. No real details.”
Jeremy twisted in his chair. “So? What does that mean?”
“Nothing. It really doesn’t mean anything. It’s just… It’s just going to take time. That’s all. We have to get to know each other.”
Lara turned the derby car over in her hand; now it was her turn to look uncomfortable. “I need to ask you one last thing. It’s about the event at the mall,” she hesitated, forcing herself to continue, “Nyx was right with her question. You didn’t need to step out there and confront Hot Shot. You didn’t need to risk your life. So why did you do it? Why did you go after that guy?”
Jeremy looked away again toward the paneled wall. He could feel a flush of anger in his face. “You think I’m suicidal?”
“No, I know that’s not it. I would be able to feel that, but—”
It was a simple question—an honest question—but somehow Jeremy’s answer felt very far away. Hidden. Why did he risk his life in the mall? He tried to think—to go back there in his mind. He remembered seeing the old man step out into the food court, facing the assassin with his arms raised. The old man was claiming to be him, sacrificing himself to make it all stop. And then he remembered Hot Shot killing the man where he stood. And Jeremy felt that anger again. It was more than anger. Rage.
But that wasn’t it either. It wasn’t why he stepped out to confront Hot Shot. Jeremy was already moving to the food court when the old man died. So it had to be something else then; something more than just his anger. He remembered hearing the screams of the hurt and the dying. And he remembered looking down at Kate and seeing the same emotion in her eyes: fear, terror, desperation. And there was something more. Jeremy could see it just under the surface. Kate knew she was going to die. And then he thought about his dad…
“People needed my help. That’s it.” Jeremy looked back at Lara as he answered.
She smiled. “So you felt compassion.”
Jeremy stood, uncomfortable; he walked around behind his chair. “So that’s it, right? That’s everything?”
“Yes.” Lara started to her feet, but then she caught herself and sat back down. “I mean no, actually. I have one more question. When you told your girlfriend you loved her today, that was a lie, wasn’t it?”
“I thought you couldn’t read me like that?”
“I can’t, but—I could just tell you were lying. It was… You had an uncomfortable feeling, and so I wanted to know why you said it. Why did you lie?”
Suddenly the mall question seemed easy. Jeremy paced back in front of his chair, trying to think.
*****
He was standing just inside the doorway of his dad’s office. Jeremy was fourteen and it was the middle of the night, the last day of summer vacation before the start of freshman year. He couldn’t sleep. Most of the house was dark except for the soft lights filtering into the hall from his dad’s office. Jeremy stood in the doorway, silent, watching his dad type on his computer, his face lit by the glare from the monitor.
Finally, he interrupted. “Dad.”
Jonathan Cross looked up from his screen. “Hey, bud. What’s up?”
Jeremy stepped into the room, “I wanted to ask, how do you know when you’re in love?” Jeremy felt a wave of embarrassment crash over him as soon as he spoke.
His dad clicked something on his computer screen, picked up his coffee mug, and stood up. “So it’s that question?” His dad smiled. “You better come with me.”
They walked into the kitchen. The fluorescent lights under the counter were on, and a pot of coffee brewed in the corner. His dad refilled his mug, and Jeremy sat down on one of the stools around the kitchen island.
His dad sipped at his coffee. “It’s the easiest thing in the world to know when you’re in love, because we get to choose who we love. We find someone—and they’re not perfect—but then we place their needs above our own. That’s it. That’s love. And then we spend the rest of our lives trying to make good on our choices.”
*****
“It wasn’t a lie,” Jeremy answered, looking at Lara. “I do love Kate, just not how she wants me to.”
“Then why did you say it? You knew how she would take it.”
Jeremy shook his head. “I used to love her like that—like she loves me. Maybe I still should, I guess. Like I’m the one doing something wrong for not…not feeling that way.”
Lara cocked her head to one side, studying him; Jeremy could tell she was trying to get a read on exactly what he was thinking. It wasn’t working.
Finally, she gave up and just asked, “Why don’t you then? What changed?”
“I did.”
Lara scribbled something across the screen of her tablet. Then she put the derby car and tablet away in her purse and rose to her feet. Without another word, she walked out of the room, and Jeremy followed.
In the Rec Room, Talon was sitting at the conference table, his attention focused on the basketball game showing on the big screen, but as Lara and Jeremy emerged, he jumped to his feet. “So? How’d it go in there?”
“He did fine,” Lara answered, “especially for his first time. Now, if you’ll both excuse me, I’m exhausted.” She pressed the keypad for the elevator. “I suggest you get some sleep too, Jeremy. Morning comes pretty quick around here.”
“See you in the morning, Mirror,” Talon said with a half-wave of his hand.
“Good night, Mirror.” As soon as Jeremy said it, he regretted it. The others had all called her by her code name. They called her Mirror, just like they called themselves Nyx and Talon and Gauntlet, but even so, Lara felt different. Calling her Mirror now—using it for himself—it didn’t sound right; it was like the name was somehow too formal. Too distant.
The elevator door
s opened with a soft ping, and Lara stepped inside. “Good night.”
As the doors closed, Jeremy turned back to Talon. “She doesn’t stay down here with the rest of us?”
Talon laughed. “Nah. Mirror’s one of us, but she’s not exactly one of us. Know what I mean?”
Jeremy shook his head. “No. Not really.”
“Don’t worry about it, man. You’ll figure it all out.” Talon sat forward, excited again. “Hey! Did she do that ‘pick a number between one and a billion’ trick she does? It freaks me out every time, man.”
Jeremy had to laugh; if nothing else, Talon’s attitude was contagious. “No. Not yet anyway. She said she can’t read me like that. She can’t get anything that specific.”
Talon’s eyebrows went up. “Really? You and Gauntlet then, man. That’s crazy. She can’t get anything on that guy either. It’s why he’s such a mystery. Hope you don’t turn out loco too.”
Jeremy twisted inside. Lara made it sound like his reading was no big deal—a temporary condition that would clear itself up, like psychic acne. But Talon’s reaction…now he wasn’t so sure. And the last thing he wanted was to draw comparisons to the crazy, renaissance-fair wannabe.
“Hey, you wanna finish watching the game?” Talon asked.
“No. I think I’ll take her advice and go to bed. Which room is—”
“Second on the left.” Talon jerked his head to that side.
“And what time do I set my alarm?”
“No alarms, man. They wake you up when they want you up. You’ll see.”
Jeremy nodded as if he understood, but honestly he didn’t have a clue. At this point he didn’t care. He couldn’t. It was all too much. When he woke up this morning, his only concern was a day wasted shopping with his best friend. Now, sixteen hours later, his old life was gone. He had been attacked, uprooted from his home, and thrust into a world that as of yesterday didn’t exist.
He knew it would take more than a good night’s sleep to feel like himself again. Jeremy stepped to his door, the second on the left. It slid open as he approached, and he walked inside.
ANOM: Awakening (The ANOM Series Book 1) Page 10