The Escape

by Teyla Branton

  I shrugged and watched her open the door. “It’s worth a try.” With blankets the prisoners would not only have more privacy but more places to hide their weapons.

  Out in the hallway, Mari and Oliver stood opposite the guard. Mari’s mind screamed with relief at seeing me, but her voice was calm. “We need to leave now, Triad Vesey.”

  I nodded at the director. “Thank you for your report, Hattie,” I said, finally discovering her first name in her thoughts.

  “Next time we’ll have refreshments here for you,” she replied, her tone and her thoughts making it obvious that she did not appreciate the surprise visit.

  How would Delia react to that? With anger? Amusement? The woman seemed to expect something, so I opted for amused disdain. “Make sure the tea is imported then. Americans still haven’t realized the value of good tea.”

  I turned and preceded the guard down the hallway. This was it. We either would get out without trouble, or the rest of the guards would be waiting in ambush.

  Stay alert, I warned the others.

  Mari hurried to match my pace, steering me to the left when the hallway merged onto another. It was all I could do not to increase our pace because I’d suddenly begun to wonder if whatever was preventing me from contacting Ritter outside might also prevent Mari and me from shifting if it became necessary.

  After a few torturous minutes, we arrived at the foyer. As we entered, I was able to maintain mental contact with the Indian guard, though the large guard waiting inside was closed to my probing. My anxiety increased. Something was definitely odd about this room.

  One foot in front of the other, I told myself. There was no reason to believe the guard thought us anything but what we had presented ourselves to be. He and all the rest knew Delia, and I expected that would make them cautious about reporting her visit at all.

  As we crossed the foyer, I scanned the monitors and other equipment on the long front desk. Was something there generating a field that strengthened mental barriers? Or perhaps created one? Strange that it didn’t seem to make a difference to the mental connections I already held with those who’d entered the foyer with me. Once again, I wished Stella were here so we could pinpoint the equipment that might be responsible.

  The second guard opened the outside door. “I’ll call them down at the gate to let them know to have it open.”

  That made the gate sound farther away than fifty yards. “Very well,” I answered, biting back the thank you that came unbidden to my tongue. Delia Vesey of the Emporium Triad did not thank anyone.

  My heart thudded dully as I emerged into the cold night and realized a car was already at the gate. My thoughts flew across the empty space, searching for Ritter and finding him on top of the building. He hadn’t told me he’d found a way up there without being seen by the cameras or guards.

  I guess we both kept secrets.

  We’re leaving, I said, pushing through his shield. Everything is fine.

  His relief filtered to me. Cutting it close, he responded. He had no way of knowing I received his thought unless I acknowledged it, and for now I decided to let him stew a bit.

  We passed the other car on the way out, and once the gate was shut behind us, Oliver collapsed on the backseat, letting his illusions fade. I did the same, experiencing a great release.

  “We did it!” Mari picked up speed as we drove down the street. She glanced over at me. “What’s wrong? You look worried.”

  I was more than worried. “You were right,” I told her. “I saw the new prisoner and he looks exactly like Patrick Mann.”

  EVERYONE WAS SUPPOSED TO MEET back at the safe house, except Jace and Cort who had stayed behind to watch the compound, but I had Mari drop me off a few blocks away. After so much time in everyone’s thoughts, I needed to be alone for a while, and it wasn’t likely we would do anything more tonight. I’d filled Ava in already on the phone, and they could do without me for an hour or so.

  It was after one-thirty in the morning, but many of the bars were open and people still roamed the streets. Some walked casually in loud groups, while lone people or couples walked quickly, darting glances around to make sure they weren’t followed. This wasn’t a high crime area, but it was dark and anything could happen in such a big city. I absorbed through my pores as I walked, refilling my depleted reserves. I caught the faint flavor of peanuts and fried scones, an odd combination, but this was New York City after all. I wandered aimlessly for fifteen minutes, my mind shut tight against everyone. Only the life forces burned in my mind, alerting me if anyone neared.

  My body healed quickly, regaining strength every second. The curequick no longer hummed in my veins and I missed it. No more for you, I thought. Not if I didn’t want to end up like Ritter’s adopted son, who was in a high security institution in London recovering from curequick addiction.

  I soon found myself back at the safe house. Pulling my strongest shield over my mind so as not to alert Ava of my presence, I punched in the code and put my palm on the reader next to the door so it would open. The computer would inform Stella I was there, but she wouldn’t tell anyone. I rode the elevators up past the eighth floor, the last four of which were empty and not yet refurbished. Tenika hadn’t seen a point with her group so decimated, but one day they would need the space. Unless whatever the Emporium planned was more far-reaching than even we guessed.

  Out on the roof, my acrophobia slammed down on me, as though the sky overhead had fallen on my shoulders. I forced back the fear, pushing it into the shiny black box in the corner of my mind. The weight lifted, but I knew it was still there, waiting to pounce if I relaxed my vigil. That was okay. I’d learn to deal with it, and I’d keep visiting rooftops forever as long as it meant I could make myself function despite the fear. I would not allow my flaw to endanger any of the Renegades.

  I walked steadily to the edge, clear to the wrought iron fence encircling the entire rooftop. There had once been some sort of garden here, but it was lifeless now, the raised boxes of soil growing only a few hearty weeds. Someone had also kept pigeons in one corner, and it was to the old coop I headed, using a crate to climb up. The roof was flat and sturdy enough to hold my weight, though the creaking of the wood seemed to hint otherwise.

  I sat crossed-legged, breathing in the searing cold that made me feel strangely alive. So what do we know? I mused.

  Patrick Mann, or someone who looked like him, was being held by the Emporium. But Patrick Mann was also on television at the same time the new prisoner had been brought to the compound.

  What else?

  The vice president worried that his son was different.

  I pondered that over for a minute. Maybe Patrick Mann really was different. Maybe he wasn’t Patrick Mann at all. But when had the exchange taken place and how had the Emporium pulled it off? We knew they didn’t have an illusionist. And not even Dimitri had heard of a shape shifter in all his thousand years.

  I closed my eyes trying to search my own memories. Something bugged me about Patrick Mann, something that had occurred at our meeting. If only I could place it in my mind.

  A clunking against the side of the coop brought me back to awareness. I reached for a weapon before I saw Ava’s head appear. “I thought I would find you here.”

  I shook my head. “I almost shot you.”

  “Sorry.” But there was little of repentance in my fourth great-grandmother’s voice. She was completely dark to even my life force radar, which I had left partially unblocked to alert me to anyone nearby, so I knew she had intended on finding me before I had a chance to make myself scarce. Why she wanted me wasn’t immediately clear. I could break through her shield because she’d had me do it several times during our practices, but I wouldn’t do it without her permission, even if she’d purposely tried to surprise me.

  “We’ve found something.” Ava settled beside me, the coop groaning in protest. “You know that baby who was put up for adoption at the same time the Manns had their child? Well, the adopt
ion agency was none other than the one the Emersons used to adopt their son five years later. The coincidence of a Hunter adopting a potential Unbounded in New York and using the same adoption agency as a woman giving birth in Massachusetts in the same hospital where the future vice president’s wife also happened to be having a child is not likely. So Stella dug deeper. She was unable to break into the agency’s files, but she talked again to the birth mother and compared all the public adoption records around that time and others that weren’t quite so public. She found the baby. His name is Howard Obstfield. He’s in Virginia now, grown with three children of his own. My guess is the DNA will prove he’s really the Mann’s child and not that birth mother’s.”

  “How soon can we test his DNA?”

  “I’ve sent Marco to get that started, but as far as I’m concerned there’s really no need. Obstfield’s on the city council in Fairfax and well liked for his integrity, so we have plenty of good photos of him. He’s a dead ringer for Mrs. Mann.” She tilted her head. “That is, if he’d been a female.”

  “If the Emporium was going to give the Manns a baby with Unbounded genes, why get this other woman involved?”

  “Our best guess is that she was one of their legitimate birth mothers, and they were using her labor to mask their presence at the hospital. Since the baby the Emporium gave to the Manns would have come from within their own ranks and not from a mortal birth mother, they would have needed to do something with the Mann’s child. When the birth mother’s baby ended up dying, we believe they simply put the Mann baby in his place.”

  “One less adoption to set up.” Emporium Unbounded would certainly never deign to raise a child they knew for certain would be mortal.

  “Right. Anyway, a day after these births, a premature baby was found dead in a Dumpster in nearby Rhode Island.”

  I wondered if the baby’s death had been completely accidental, or if the Emporium had caused the birth mother to deliver early so they could be at the hospital to take the Mann’s child.

  Ava sensed my concern. “For what it’s worth, they found heroin in the baby’s blood.”

  That didn’t make me feel much better. “So if Howard Obstfield is the Mann’s biological son, the Emporium obviously put that Unbounded in his place—or a baby they hoped would Change. But then who do they have in the compound? Or does he have a twin?”

  “I don’t know, but twin Unbounded are extremely rare. Less than one percent of the regular rate for mortals, due to the gene’s natural inclination to choose the strongest possibility of individual survival.” Ava sighed and stared out into the night. I followed her gaze. Lights gleamed all over the city—from tall buildings, cars, traffic signals, and billboards, some blinking off or on with a curiously beautiful randomness. If I opened my senses, all the life forces of the people stacked on top of one another in such an enclosed place would make it seem as bright as day.

  “Could the Patrick Mann at the fundraiser be an illusionist?” I asked.

  “All our intel says the Emporium doesn’t have anyone with that ability.”

  I let a few minutes pass until I remembered the other thing that bothered me. “Back at Emerson’s when we met that sensing Unbounded, Lew Roberts, I thought I saw Mari shot, but afterward she was fine. I didn’t feel her shift out of the way or anything, though maybe she blinked in and out so fast there was nothing to feel.”

  Ava’s eyes found mine. “Show me.”

  I opened my mind a crack so she could slide in. During our practices, she hadn’t yet been able to break through my shield, though I’d shown her repeatedly how I did it. She also couldn’t make anyone hesitate in place or move a limb. I believed the effort I’d expended in Mexico cracked something inside me, allowing me to delve deeper into my ability. But it might be because Dimitri’s mother had the sensing ability, and maybe receiving the gene from both sides made me stronger. Given the continuous assault from the minds around me, I wasn’t completely convinced it was for my good.

  Keeping the rest of the world out, I shut my eyes and remembered the scene at the Emersons’ townhouse. I knew Ava would be studying the sand stream of my thoughts as I pushed back to the correct memory location.

  Wait, she said in my mind. Show me that shield again. She meant Lew Roberts’ shield. I’ve never seen anything like that. So strong. And that cord . . . it seems he’s mentally shielding his partner as well.

  It was thin enough to cut. I let my contentment show through.

  Doing so might have been dangerous, she countered, and I remembered the black snake-like thing in Patrick Mann’s mind. We’ll have to practice making that shield, she added.

  I have a theory on that. I think the more you block someone who’s actually trying to get through, the stronger you become. I bet Roberts’ repeated contact with Delia is what made him that strong.

  Maybe. We’ll have to try it with the others. I was able to get through Dimitri’s shield yesterday when we were practicing in the car. It took a long time, but I did it.

  That he allowed her to try showed the degree of trust between them. I wanted to ask her about that, but now wasn’t the time.

  We’ll talk about this later, she said. Go on.

  I continued to the place where I’d left Mari unshielded and then to where she’d stumbled as if shot. Ava had me replay it three times, the third with her hand on my face. When she pulled away, my eyes opened. “Well?”

  “She was shot and she didn’t shift. You blocked her.”

  I blinked. “What?”

  “You threw out a shield.” She shook her head back and forth as if unable to believe it herself. “The bullet hit Mari with enough force to knock her over but didn’t penetrate.” Her head swung back and forth. “I’ve only dreamed of doing something like this. I want you to teach me.”

  We spent the next hour practicing shielding each other and trying to break down shields, until our fingers and toes grew numb with a cold so intense that even our regenerative properties couldn’t keep us from feeling miserable.

  “Your shield is getting stronger,” I told Ava. “I couldn’t get through those last two times, even using the machete. That supports my theory.”

  She laughed. “Or you’re just getting tired.”

  There was that. We unfolded our legs and with effort climbed down from the coop. “What about that thing in Patrick Mann’s mind?” I said. “Any theories yet?”

  “I assume it’s there to hide whatever information he knows about their plan so that even if he falls into our hands, we can’t pick up on it before it’s too late.”

  “Then we have to try to see what’s inside.” If Stella could locate him, I was sure Ritter could help me get in to see him. Surely Patrick wouldn’t be as unreachable as the vice president himself.

  Ava frowned. “Maybe, but we’d better see what Cort knows about it first.”

  Warmth welcomed us as we entered the stairway leading to the roof. By the time we’d reached the elevator, I could already feel tingling in my fingers as the heat returned to my extremities. I stared at the buttons for a minute, wondering where to go. I wanted to get our prisoners out, find Patrick Mann, and learn the identity of his lookalike—all my thoughts dividing down each path until I couldn’t think about any of them clearly.

  Ava decided for me. “The others have gone to bed, so this can wait until after workout tomorrow morning. We’ll all think better after a little rest.”

  My exhaustion seemed heavy now that she’d spoken. Of course, it had been a long day, what with getting shot and having to pose as Delia. My bed suddenly called to me, as Ava punched the button to the third floor.

  We met Ritter and Dimitri in the hallway, deep in conversation. Seeing Dimitri made me wonder who was watching Brody Emerson with Keene, but I knew they’d have it covered. “I’ve heard from Senator Pearson,” Dimitri said, looking up as we approached. “She confirmed that the rumors about President Stevens are true. He is incapacitated. Some kind of a stroke is what they told her, a
nd no one knows if he’ll recover. She says they are stalling for now, but if something doesn’t change, they’ll have to make an announcement to the public.”

  Which would put Vice President Mann in charge. Did that fit into the Emporium plan? “Isn’t there anything you can do?” I asked.

  “Not unless I examine him, and Senator Pearson didn’t think that would be possible. But since she is so close to the First Lady, she’s going to see what she can do to pull a few strings.” Dimitri shook his head. “There might not be anything I can do anyway.”

  Ava touched his arm. “You have to try. Especially if this is part of the Emporium plan.”

  What was it we were missing? Two Patricks, a sick president, and a vice president who despite my dislike of him seemed to be honorable. Not to mention a Hunter with an Unbounded son. What was the Emporium planning? I felt it should be obvious, if I could only fit together the pieces.

  Ava and Dimitri were staring at each other. Ava, who looked only a few years older than my thirty-one, and Dimitri, whose physical age was around fifty. There was an intimacy between them that seemed to have nothing to do with their obvious attraction for each other. Was this what others saw when they looked at me and Ritter? Or was that all in my mind?

  Well, I did have the weapons he’d given me and that meant something, though I still didn’t know what I would do with the knowledge. My gaze shifted to him and found his eyes, dark and unreadable, leveled on my face. Heat ignited inside my veins.

  “Guess I’ll turn in,” I said.

  Ritter walked with me to my room, coming inside for the second time in as many days. As soon as the door was closed, his hand went up to cup my face. “You feel like ice.”

  I didn’t feel like ice. Fire spilled from his touch through my skin. It reminded me of the towel he’d used to clean my arm the night before. The next instant I was kissing him, my mind flaring with need. I wanted to feel his lips hard against mine and his tongue on every inch of my body. My exhaustion fled.