The Reverians Series Boxed Set

by Sarah Noffke

  I grimace. Almost clench my eyes shut with disgust.

  “That’s when I learned that that despicable Brit spent valuable time educating you. That’s how you knew to take down my newspaper and billboards. You’d learned about my subliminal messaging. Ren told me everything he taught you. And to his credit he knows a lot about me.” Vider is still rolling his wrist but the movement has gotten faster; it’s almost distracting. Almost. My eyes stay pinned on the murderer in front of me. “And since I know what you know, I do have to doubt why you came all this way only to make a deadly mistake.”

  My eyes narrow on him. “Stop with your manipulation,” I say with a tired sigh. “Just tell me where Nona is and I’ll make the next steps easier on you. I might not even electrocute you.” It’s then that I remember my reserves are empty and so I begin to leech Vider. Immediately everything in the room comes into crisp focus. I smell too many competing odors. I spy the fleck of pepper on Vider’s desk left over from the roast beef sandwich he had hours ago. I hear Zack’s heart racing beside me. And an orchestra of cracking sounds radiates from Vider’s wrist as the joints grind together.

  “Ren told you how my mind control works,” Vider continues. “He told you it was stronger on Middlings and especially stronger on a one-on-one basis and you foolishly chose to bring two with you.”

  Everything he says computes in my head until I realize exactly what I’ve done wrong.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Vider’s wrist stops rotating. He sneers. His eyes flick to the people who stand behind me. I turn and just catch the vacant looks in both Dean’s and Patsy’s eyes as Vider yells, “Grab them! Kill them!”

  Patsy clutches my injured arm, her fingers pressing in to the wound. She whips me around and I’m powerless against her force. She’s so much stronger and larger than me. Her arm hooks around my neck and she tugs me back into her. And then her arm clenches down on my esophagus and I can’t breathe. At all.

  Beside me someone grunts several times. I struggle and crane my neck so hard that I think the muscles will snap. Just around Patsy’s arm I barely spy Zack pinned in the same way as me. Dean’s bicep is flexed around his neck, and Zack’s face is pinched red. He’s attempting to struggle, but like me his captor just tightens his hold with each of his attempts at freedom. I’m scrambling with my hands to resist, to fight, but the loss of oxygen is making it impossible to think. And every attempt to use the tiny bit of electricity I have stored is met with defeat. My powers aren’t working. All my body’s focus is centered on trying and failing to breathe.

  “I wish I could say it’s been nice knowing you,” Vider says, glee in his voice. “It hasn’t. But I will say I’m enjoying watching you die.” He laces his fingers together and drapes them in his lap. “Kill them quickly,” Vider says. “I have things to do.”

  Patsy’s grip around my neck tightens even more. I gasp for breath but it’s useless. I make to scream and only a hoarse grunt spills out of my cold lips. The world in front of me turns into black spots and hazy images. The taste of copper laces my mouth. Every attempt to leech or unleash is a failure. I’m being murdered by a Middling I freed. And the only thing that makes that worse is the sounds of Zack snorting and grunting beside me. He’s attempting to breathe. To resist. But I know if my gift is unavailable in such a weak state, then so is Zack’s and therefore any chance of our survival. My best friend and I are going to die side-by-side. And it isn’t beautiful or poetic. It’s heartbreaking. I didn’t think I could feel any more pain than I did as I suffocate but the searing in my chest captures an ounce of my attention as I die.

  My eyes flutter shut. My head swims in a cloud. I slip into unconsciousness and then fight against it. With the last of my reserves I open my eyes to catch a victorious smile on Vider’s face. And then, it shifts suddenly. His features drop with astonishment. A shattering sound changes the scene completely. Flecks of something sharp spray against my face. Patsy’s hold for the first time since she grabbed me lightens. She turns slightly and it’s enough to grant me an inch of precious space. I drop to my knees and she loses me from her grip.

  “Get her!” Vider orders. “Get ahold of her again.”

  I’m gasping for life-saving oxygen as Patsy scrambles to get me back in her claws. Taking a giant breath, I wheel around and simultaneously whip my hand in the air and then fire my reserves at her. The electricity wraps around her body, making her vibrate, and then she falls to the ground. I spin around to find Zack on all fours, wheezing for breath. The scene around him is what takes several seconds to compute. Standing between Vider and Zack is John Conerly; he’s holding himself in a protective stance and regarding Vider with murderous eyes. And behind Zack, Dean is laid out in a similarly passed out position as his wife. His head is covered in blood and it’s dripping down his face. Around him are broken shards of the vase that stood on the pedestal outside this office. Zack is breathing and that’s my first concern. My second is to fill my reserves. I leech in Vider’s gift at once. To my astonishment he’s still sitting on the edge of his desk but now he’s wearing a sinister sneer.

  “Who knew it would be the nobody John Conerly who screwed up this well-formed plan,” Vider says.

  “You tried to kill my son,” John says, not daring to take his eyes off Vider.

  “Yes, haven’t you heard, I’m a bad, bad man. Just ask Em. She likes educating people about me,” Vider says, his voice unaffected.

  “Mr. Conerly, will you please help Zack?” I say. “Vider is my problem.”

  John nods. His lips press together and his eyes regard the president with crazed fury.

  I pull the handcuffs Vider made me wear earlier out of my jacket pocket and toss them at him. Since I aimed them at his face he has no choice but to grab them. “Put those on,” I say, knowing I have to stop him from being able to move and hypnotize anyone else.

  “No, sweet Em,” he says, and for the first time ever he sounds demoralized. “That’s never going to happen.”

  “Then I’ll electrocute you and when you awake you’ll find it has happened,” I say.

  Vider’s almond-shaped green eyes are seeking to burn a hole through me. He stays frozen. Uncompliant.

  I point my finger just to the right of Vider’s head and unleash a tiny spark which zips by his black hair, almost singeing it. He startles to the left, finally standing from his perch.

  “I’ve already electrocuted you once. Remember how it knocked you down flat at the labs?” I say, my mind flashing with the memory of shocking my father and Vider many months ago. I angle my head at Patsy, passed out. “I promise you I have enough power stored in me to do that to you.”

  Vider continues his staring contest. His silence tells me more than his words could. He knows he’s out of options, but like anyone who has just lost everything, he’s in denial.

  “Put on the handcuffs,” I say, raising my hand and pointing it at him. “Last chance.”

  Vider doesn’t say a word. Doesn’t take his eyes off me. Robotically he snaps the first cuff on his wrist and tightens it and then the other. I dare to step up close and as I suspected the cuffs are not at all tight enough. Wanting to be away from him as quickly as possible I clasp both cuffs and tighten them until they are too snug on his wrist. Then I grab the red handkerchief from his breast pocket and step back at once. I almost enjoy the look of confusion that blankets Vider’s face.

  To my relief Zack is standing, looking to almost have recovered from the attack. “Mr. Conerly,” I say addressing his father, “will you please go and retrieve the man you sent evidence to? He’s here on this floor.”

  Again another look of confusion on Vider’s face. It makes him look like a wolf separated from his pack. “So now you have me, the question is what are you going to do with me?” he says, his tone patronizing. “We have no court system since I’m the judge and jury in this city. We have no jail since I secretly euthanize those who disobey. Your biggest obstacle now is that you have me and no way to deal wi
th me. Because you know as well as I do that if you leave me alone with any Middlings then within minutes I’ll convince them to let me go. So it seems you have no choice but to kill me.”

  “Nice try,” I say, “but I’m no murderer.” Still leeching Vider, I hear Smith and his soldiers hurrying down the hallway. “I’m not going to do anything with you. I want you as far away from this Valley and the people you’ve harmed as possible.” I turn on cue and Smith steps into the doorway, his posture confident. Four soldiers storm in behind him, fanning out in the office and pointing guns at Vider. “Please meet FBI agent Smith,” I say, waving my hand at the bald man wearing a heated expression.

  “Is this safe?” Smith says, careful to keep his eyes averted from Vider’s.

  “He’s handcuffed, but we will keep it brief and then turn him over to a Dream Traveler he can’t manipulate,” I say.

  Smith nods. “Victor Vider, you are hereby under arrest by the U.S. government for murder, treason, conspiracies against the U.S. government, and thirty-three other felonies. You have the right to remain silent—”

  A howling laugh explodes from Vider. “You’ve got to be kidding me, Em. You’re having me arrested?” Another long, loud, irritating laugh. “You think a Middling prison can hold me?”

  “You’re right. Smith?” I say, my eyes focused on Vider. “I’d like to make a request to ensure this man doesn’t slip through your hands and escape imprisonment. But it’s pretty unorthodox.”

  “This is an unorthodox case,” Smith says behind me. “I’ve been granted full rights to handle this situation to secure the peace and freedom of these people, as well as Americans. What is it?”

  “Before you take Mr. Vider with you, he’s going to need to be converted,” I say.

  “No!” Vider screams, his voice scratchy and deep. “You can’t do that to me!”

  “The thing is,” Smith says, his voice sounding vengeful, “we can. The President—the real President—has given me clearance to do anything necessary to ensure you stay out of his head. I think Em is right and conversion is the only solution.”

  “And yours will be an aggressive conversion,” I say, using his words from earlier. “I don’t want to take chances with you.”

  Vider is fuming, his nostrils flaring. His heart racing.

  “Now, do you want to save a fraction of your soul and tell me where my sister and uncle are?” I say, my words full of venom.

  “Ask your father,” Vider says, his eyes slicing through me like a dagger. “He’s the one who locked them up and threw away the key.”

  My own father. That disgusting demon of a man. How could he? I turn and face Smith. “Did you find my father?”

  “No,” he says, his tone clipped.

  And then I notice John standing beside Zack and I realize he’s the other energy I felt. He must have been hiding after sending the evidence to Smith.

  “Smith, you can hold your forces back.” I turn, take two steps in John’s direction, and hold out the handkerchief to him. “Would you please gag Vider and take him to the conversion lab? I don’t want to chance him being taken by Middlings he can manipulate, and I think you’re sufficiently motivated against him that he won’t be able to brainwash you?”

  John takes the red handkerchief from me as he nods. “Absolutely. And I’ll see that he’s converted right away.”

  “Thank you,” I say and then turn to face Vider. “You can thank the gods that your punishment is so merciful.”

  I turn and march out of the office, Zack at my side. As I pass Smith I say, “After he’s converted he’ll be harmless and then he’s all yours.”

  “Where are you going?” Smith says.

  I answer Smith as I continue to jog down the hallway, not daring to lose a second by turning around or stopping. “I’ve got to find my sister,” I say. “I’m going to confront my father.”

  Zack presses the button to the elevator as Smith hurries in our direction. “Then I’m assigning Sergeant Miller and his men to go along with you. Your father now belongs to me as well.”

  A tall man with cropped brown hair steps forward, four men at his back.

  I nod in agreement. “Come on, let’s go,” I say as we crowd onto the elevator.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  The streets of Austin Valley look completely different than they did an hour ago. Still chaos sparkles off every surface. Property all over is wrecked from being a bystander to a fight. Soldiers and Rebels and Middlings lay in various places, most receiving care. I catch Parker as he sprints by in the direction of a young girl who is cradling her arm. There is death and there is destruction, but there’s no more fighting. Actually, even the soldiers in tan uniforms are helping to move a gate that’s fallen on a Dream Traveler. There’s a warped sense of community. Over an hour ago these people were fighting each other. But now released from Vider’s spell and shaken to their senses by the U.S. military intervention, everything’s changed. Too many tan-uniformed soldiers look disoriented, like they just woke up from a weird dream—one where they were forced to fight in a war they didn’t fully comprehend.

  Zack and I move through the streets flanked by U.S. military soldiers. At the walk to the drive of my house I pause and address Sergeant Miller. He’s young, but has mature eyes. Is that what the military does to people? Is that what it’s like to live in the “real world”?

  “I want to go in there alone with Zack,” I say to him, immediately receiving a look of disapproval from the young man. “I want a chance to talk to my father but I will bring him out.”

  “Miss, as much as I’d like to believe you, I find it hard to think you’ll not help your own father escape. Blood is a strong thing to resist.”

  “He may be my father, but I know better than anyone that he needs to be punished,” I say, my voice sounding outside my body somehow.

  He gives me a measured glare. “All right,” he says with a heavy sigh. “You have ten minutes.”

  Zack and I don’t say a word to each other as we walk down the path to my house. Just by glancing at him I sense a hundred thoughts spinning in his head, but we can’t discuss anything until this is over.

  The house is silent when we enter, yet I know someone is home. I sense three Dream Travelers’ energies besides Zack’s. I tug on Zack’s sleeve and pull him down the hallway. He steps carefully behind me. The house is dark. Too dark. Too quiet. Maybe I should have allowed Sergeant Miller in here with us. We’re halfway through the long hallway on the eastern side of the house when a voice trespasses into my head.

  Why didn’t Em have Sergeant Miller accompany us? I hear Zack think. We are both too depleted to fight Dee.

  I whip around and face him. He freezes.

  “I was just thinking the same thing,” I whisper.

  Zack gives me a questioning look.

  “I can read your thoughts,” I say.

  His face shifts as he comprehends.

  “And I’m not too depleted so speak or think for yourself.”

  He allows himself a small smile. “If you’re telepathic then it means…”

  Both our heads turn and our eyes land on the door beside us. My father’s study.

  Fear more encompassing than when I faced fifty soldiers overwhelms my being. The handle is cold under my fingertips. The door doesn’t make a noise when I push it open. My father stands, hands clasped behind his back. He’s looking out the open window which faces the grassy yard.

  “Do you think either one of you are welcome in my home?” my father says, his voice an angry hush.

  “I want to know—”

  “I know what you want!” he roars, cutting me off.

  Knowing he’s stolen my thoughts, I plunge straight into the speech I’ve rehearsed. “My sister, tell me where she is and what you’ve done with her,” I say, and I’m surprised by my tone. It carries confidence. It carries strength. One I’ve never had when talking to my father.

  “You’re not afraid of me anymore,” my father says,
his tone hostile.

  “Father,” I say, a warning in my voice.

  His shoulders are held back high. His mostly blond hair is slicked back and only looks a little less full than it did before I burned him, before scars made it impossible for it to grow in places.

  You have ruined everything, he thinks in his head, the statement directed at me since he knows I’m leeching him, borrowing his telepathy.

  “We,” I say, “have worked to bring justice to Austin Valley. The crimes you and Vider have committed will not go on any longer. Hate me for everything I’ve done to stop you but don’t punish Nona for it.”

  He spins around and slams both of his palms on his desk, levels his gaze at me. I work to keep my eyes on his and not at the multiple places where waxy scars stretch across his face, neck, and head. “I hate you for the simple fact that you maimed my face,” he says, spit flecking out of his tight lips. “I wanted to kill you for daring to organize a revolution, but I hate you for what you’ve done to me. Are you happy now that I look like a monster?” His palm slams down again. “Are you!?”

  I don’t flinch. Instead I draw in a steadying breath and regard him for the unfortunate person he’s become. “I don’t take pleasure in others’ misfortunes. You taught me to, but I don’t think like you taught me anymore.”

  “No, I know exactly how you think,” he says, the disappointment evident in his tone. “And before you get too comfortable exploring my thoughts I think you should know I’ve learned how to stop you from leeching me. So get out.”

  And just like that the little data stream of thoughts I was hearing from Zack and my father halts. Knowing I need to protect myself, I shut my father out of my mind immediately, just the way Tutu taught me.

  My father’s bloodshot eyes dart to Zack beside me. “And you. You’re quite masterful at closing your thoughts to me, which is why I never suspected you as a traitor.” Then he raises his eyes until he’s staring at the ceiling. “Dee!!!!” My father screams so loudly it hurts my head and makes his face turn red like it’s about to burst.