by C. J. Felver
“I appreciate the offer, girl, I really do, but it’s probably better if we just meet you there. The more vehicles we have there, the better. I have a hunch things aren’t going to be all sunshine and rainbows tomorrow.”
There’s a beat of silence on Reese’s end of the phone before she says, “Good point. I’ll just meet you there, then. Are there any plans I should be aware of?”
And I’m back to wishing she didn’t know. She’s one more person I could be keeping safe instead. But the other day Lyza said something about keeping her safe by keeping her informed, so I’m going to stick with that.
“Not yet, but when we do have one, I’ll fill you in,” Lyza tells her, just in time to arrive back at Zander’s place. There, we eat dinner and go our separate ways—Wren to the couch, and the rest of us to the bedrooms to crash out.
Several times throughout the night, the feeling of Aulder’s fingers closing in around my throat, or Stone shoving a needle into my arm, wakes me. Exhaustion must take over at some point, because the high-pitched chirping of my alarm pulls me from a dreamless sleep.
Dragging myself out of bed, my nerves are completely shot already. I wander to the bathroom and go through the motions of my shower—the water as hot as I can stand it.
By the time I get out, my skin is flushed red from the heat and the mirror is fogged over, despite the exhaust fan being on. I lean against the counter for a few moments, trying to calm my nerves.
“Cleo!” Lyza’s shout startles me. “Girl, you better have saved me some hot water. There’s literally steam rolling out from under the door.”
“You’ll be fine,” I yell through the door. At our apartment, she was always the one to use up the hot water and never left me any. Payback sucks, Lyza.
Stretching out with my mind, I collect the droplets of water on the mirror and let them flow down the sink drain. Then, I repeat the process with my hair. I can’t tell you how nice it is not to have to spend money on a hair dryer or spend time waiting for it to air dry.
Rifling through my duffel bag, I pull out a pair of black yoga pants and a rock band tee. Normally, I would much rather wear jeans, but it’s difficult to move in those and I’ll be kicking some ass today.
As I exit the bathroom, Lyza comes around the corner. “I made you some coffee. It’s on the table for you. There’s some pancakes and eggs on the stovetop, too. Make sure you eat this morning.” She disappears into the bathroom and the sound of the shower running echoes in the hallway.
Not one to wait to be told twice, I deposit my bag on my bed and make my way to the kitchen. My dad is at the table alone—without a plate—so I load up two plates and plop down next to him, setting one of the plates in front of him.
“Where are the others?” I ask, noticing now that neither Zander nor Wren have made an appearance since I’ve been awake.
My dad nods toward the hallway. “In Zander’s computer room, discussing strategy or something.”
I nod. We still need to get a loose plan in place, but there are too many undetermined factors for us to have anything solid. Mostly, we’ll be playing things by ear, which has a little to do with my nerves being so frayed this morning.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come along? I’m sure there’s some way I can be helpful,” my dad says, looking up from his plate, turning in his chair to face me more directly.
“No, Dad. You can’t,” I tell him dejectedly. “I can’t take any chance that Aulder, or his AGAS thugs, would take you again.”
“Alright. I get it. It's just … I’d feel better being able to watch out for you.” He shifts back to his plate, gaze downcast and shoulders slumped.
“I know, Dad.”
“Don’t worry, Frank,” Lyza says, entering the kitchen with a towel wrapped around her hair, “I got our girl’s back.” She puts her arm around his shoulder. The gesture seems lost on my dad. His brows are still pinched. “Think you could dry my hair for me, Cleo?”
“Sure.”
I get up, planting a kiss on the top of my dad’s head. He catches my arm as I move to clear my dishes.
“Cleo, I know I haven’t been able to do things like I used to.” He looks down at the table, the ghosts dancing in his eyes again. His jaw ticks over and over, and for a moment his entire face scrunches up, but he lets out a gust of air and looks back at me.
Oh man. It looked like we were about to have another repeat of his outburst at the restaurant. Looking at him now, I wouldn’t be able to tell he just had some sort of anxiety attack. In his eyes, the ghosts are gone, replaced by pure love and resolution. “But I’m always here for you, and I will always do my best to protect you.”
Dropping to my knees beside his chair, I throw my arms around him. “I know, Dad,” I choke out. This man has been my rock my entire life. Without him, I wouldn’t be able to do a lot of things. He taught me how to handle my water abilities, he taught me how to fight, he taught me everything I know and he did it all on his own. Seeing him go through hell has been terrifying, but through it all his concern hasn’t been himself—it’s been for me and my safety. Always looking out for me, even when he can barely deal with the aftermath of four years of captivity.
When I release him, his arms move from my shoulders to grab my hands, unshed tears glimmering in his eyes. “I’m proud of the woman you’ve become, Cleo. No matter how much you’ve aged me with all the worry you put me through.”
We share a laugh, and I honestly think it’s the first time I’ve heard him laugh since having him back. The sound is music to my ears, like having some semblance of the old him here again. I’m sure my smile is as wide as my face, my cheeks hurting from the sentiment. “I love you, Dad.”
“I love you, too, Cleo.” He gives my hand one more squeeze as I stand to collect my dishes and drop them in the sink before meeting Lyza in the bathroom.
Calm
“Have you given any thought to how you want your tattoo? I want mine freaking huge. A gigantic lightning bolt, and it needs to run down the whole length of my left side.” Lyza gestures to her side. The motion must twist her shoulder wrong, because she winces and grabs it, the mocking expression slipping from her face. “I can’t believe those asshats shot me. Getting back at them will be the highlight of my day.”
“You and me, both. Aulder is going to pay for what he did to my dad. Not to mention thinking he can play God and destroy people’s lives for it.”
“Harlow has a lot to atone for.”
The sound of Wren’s voice makes me jump out of my skin, having no idea he was there. I clutch my chest and take a moment to catch my breath. At my reaction, his lips press together, suppressing any laugh fighting to come out. Not Lyza though. No … her wild laughter could be heard the next block over, I’m sure.
“Thanks, big shot,” Lyza tells Wren as she pushes past where he’s leaning against the doorframe, wiping a stray tear. “I needed that this morning. Seeing Cleo jump out of her skin gets me every time.”
“We need to start prepping to leave,” Wren says.
“Alright, let’s do this.”
The three of us head toward Zander’s computer room. Every time I step foot in this room, it feels like I’m stepping foot onto the set of a movie or a TV show. I really had no idea people actually could have this many computers and monitors in one place, all functioning together no less. How does that even work? And what is the purpose? Because it really seems like overkill to me.
Zander presses something on his keyboard and all of his monitors go black, then he passes each of us an earpiece. “I’ve tapped into the building’s security cameras so I’ll be able to keep an eye on things from here,” he informs us as I put the device in place. “I’ll also be on the lookout for Doctor Harlow for you. If I see any sign of him, you’ll know.”
“Sounds great. So, the plan?” Lyza asks.
“I mean, there really isn’t much we can do, right?” I add.
“Well, you basically have to go through the motions of
the registration. If anyone sees any signs of the serum, or hints at how they could be using it, just sound the alarm,” Zander says, pointing to the communicator in his ear.
“And if you can avoid it, try not to get that damn tattoo,” I say. Lyza gives me a look that says I’m an idiot for thinking she would’ve done any differently.
“Be prepared for anything. I have no doubt that we’ll end up having to fight our way out of this one,” Wren says.
A trilling ringtone cuts through the room. Lyza pulls her phone from her back pocket, revealing Reese’s picture on the screen. She answers the phone on speaker, as she does every time Reese calls. I’m pretty sure she does it for my benefit.
“Hey. I’m heading over to the courthouse now. Are you on your way yet?”
“Yeah, we’ll be leaving in two shakes. Just taking care of a couple things first,” Lyza tells her.
“Okay, I’ll hang out by the main door until you get there, then.”
Lyza and I share a look. It’s still unnerving having her actually be involved. Clearly, Lyza feels the same way.
“Listen, I’ll be fine,” Reese says, sensing our hesitation. “I’d rather be near you and make sure you two are okay than not know and be sick with worry.”
“Alright, yeah. You’re right. Call us paranoid. We’ll meet you there,” Lyza tells her, ending the call.
“Anything else?” I ask Zander and Wren.
Wren shakes his head.
“I think that’s it. I’m in your ear if you need me,” Zander says.
He turns back to his monitors and we make our way to leave, but my dad apprehends me with a hug before I get too far.
“Just … try to be safe.”
“I’ll do my best,” I tell him, hugging him back fiercely. There’s no way of knowing what the future holds, so I’ll take every moment with my dad I can.
When he releases me, he briefly hugs Lyza also. “That goes for you too, Lyza.”
“Would you expect anything less, Frank?” she asks, humor lacing her words.
He laughs again, all but melting my heart. If nothing else good comes out of today, at least I got to hear my dad laugh again.
Much to everyone’s surprise, he grabs Wren by the shoulders. “Watch out for my daughter.” He grimaces for a split second before his expression returns to normal. “I can’t bear the thought of something happening to her—or Lyza, for that matter.”
“Consider it done, sir.” Wren pats my dad’s hand still resting on his shoulder, then turns for the door, breaking contact.
Lyza and I leave through the front door as Wren goes to Zander’s garage.
“Hey, Lyza, toss me those keys.” She’s trying to be sneaky, but it won’t work on me. I know her too well for that.
“I think I can drive now,” Lyza’s tone is dripping with sass.
“You may be able to, but I’d rather not risk you doing something stupid—like making your shoulder worse—before we have to deal with AGAS. We have ass to kick today.”
Lyza huffs, but tosses her keys to me anyway. Rounding the front of the Jeep, I unlock the doors and buckle in.
“Normally, I’d say it’s too early in the morning to even think about kicking someone’s ass, but for Doctor Douche, I’ll make an exception.”
“You think there will be more AGAS guards there than we’ve dealt with yet?”
“Probably,” she scoffs. “This dude has it bad for elementals. If he said the LPD assigned officers to manage this shindig, I’m willing to bet the good doctor has most of AGAS there as well.”
“I’d say that’s a good bet. If it’s one thing Harlow likes, it’s being surrounded by his own,” Wren says over the comms.
I hum my agreement. It looks like we’ll be finding out how many officers Aulder has on his payroll. I’m pretty sure I have a good idea already, but seeing it firsthand is completely different than imagining it.
The rest of the drive to the courthouse is quiet and tense. The anticipation of what’s to come makes my stomach churn. I know the odds of figuring out his plan with the serum before it gets administered to any of our people are … well, shit. How many will suffer the same fate as my dad before we figure it out? Acid burns its way up my throat at the thought. Under my grip, the steering wheel groans.
Lyza’s hand lands on my forearm and I relax my grip. “Cleo … I know, girl. I get it. I’m feeling all the same what-ifs you are, but getting worked up right now isn’t going to help. For now, we gotta go in with a level head and a clear mind. And seriously, don’t take it out on my steering wheel.”
I nod as she removes her hand. She’s right, but it’s much easier said than done.
Pulling into the parking lot, I circle around until I find an empty space. Since she can’t take it inside, Lyza puts her phone in the glovebox. In the back seat, I put on my hoodie, pouches full and ready to go. At the last minute, I decide against the scarf. Let people see the bruises. I’m not hiding them.
“Making a statement?” Lyza asks with a raised eyebrow as I toss the garment into the backseat.
“You could say that.”
Reese is waiting around the corner. When she sees us, her eyes grow wide and she sucks a breath through her teeth.
“Oh my gosh, Cleo.” Her eyes linger on my throat. Not that I blame her, the bruises are a deep purple, and I forgot about Wren’s balm this morning. “No wonder you had a scarf on yesterday. Why aren’t you wearing it now?”
“Our girl here is making a statement,” Lyza informs her, a hint of pride in her voice.
“You’re not kidding. And you said Aulder Harlow did that himself?” Reese grimaces, making a disgusted sound.
“Of course he did. She was about to ruin his big plan. If he had his way, Cleo would either be dead or strapped to a chair at HSI Labs, waiting for him to experiment on her.”
When she puts it that way …
“Wow, Lyza. Not helping. You’re testing the boundaries of my calm exterior.”
“Do you feel the rage? Does it burn deep?”
“Ha-ha, you’re hilarious,” I tell her flatly as she grins. In my ear, the sound of Wren covering a laugh catches me off guard. I forgot we had the boys listening in.
Reese looks between us. “I must be missing an inside joke or something?”
“Nah, girl. Cleo may appear calm and collected, but on the inside her rage burns as deep as mine.”
Waving Lyza off, Reese snickers, but quickly sobers. “Can you fill me in on the plan now?” she asks. As we tell her, her expression becomes determined.
“I’m in position,” Wren informs us.
I’m beginning to second-guess this. Lyza hit the nail on the head with Aulder’s opinion of me. Are we making a mistake coming here? As I make eye contact with Lyza, she sets her shoulders and gives me a slight nod. “Alright, well … we should probably get inside,” she says.
I push my way through the glass doors and enter some sort of foyer. Having never been in this building, I’m a little surprised at what I see. There are two metal detectors, with multiple security guards standing around each one. Beside the metal detectors sit two long tables, each holding a few bins. There, a guard instructs us to remove any metal objects and place them in a bin before we step through the metal detectors.
Anxiety spikes in my chest, feeling heavy. What happens if this thing goes off? Will I be detained? That seems to be Aulder’s favorite way to handle things.
I fish my wallet from my waistband pocket—thank you, reinforced leggings—and drop it in the bin. It’s slender and only has my driver’s license and some cash in it.
“That too,” the guard behind the table says, pointing to my hoodie. Uh, this could be a problem. I glance at Lyza, as if she’d be able to help me. But she’s removing her own things and stuffing them into the bin. Her eyes meet mine briefly as she tucks her hair behind her ear.
I need to think of something fast because he’ll definitely feel the weight of the water in the bladder pouches if he ha
s to lift it or move the bin. This guy is looking all sorts of impatient as I shuck my hoodie. It hangs heavily in my hand and is going to give us away.
Unless … unless I keep the water suspended a little.
Feeling the water residing there, I give it a slight mental tug and hold it above the base of the bin. I just need to make sure I follow where he goes with the bin or it’ll be obvious something is up.
From the corner of my eye, I see Lyza subtly gesturing to her ear.
Shit! The earpiece! Zander’s voice comes through as if he’s been talking the whole time, but I’ve been too preoccupied to pay attention.
“—have to remove it so it doesn’t set off the alarm. Take it off and drop it under the table. Figure out a way to get it back after you’re through the metal detectors.”
What if it gets stepped on? What about Lyza? God, I hope this works. I mentally cross my fingers. Hell, and my toes for good measure.
“Miss, you need to step through now,” the guard urges. I tuck my hair behind my ear, hoping to be sneaky as I pluck out the tiny device.
“Sorry, I’ve never done this before,” I admit, trying my best to seem timid. Both guards at my station are watching me intently.
Now how the heck do I get rid of this thing without them noticing?
Stepping forward, I purposely catch my toe under my heel and trip forward. One of the guards grabs my elbow, steadying me. At the same time, I flick that little sucker, praying it goes where I need it to.
Upright, I reach out to pat the guard’s shoulder with a thank you on my lips, but he jerks away from me, fingers twitching toward a Taser on his hip.
“You can’t touch me! No contact,” he says, eyeing my neck.
On second thought, maybe I should have worn the scarf.
“Sorry. I just wanted to say thank you.” I bite my lip and look at the floor.
Yes! Two little communicators are sitting under the table. Lyza must have tossed hers, too. Perfect.
“Just … step through. Please,” he tells me with a shake of his head and an exaggerated sigh.