Forbidden Fire (Forbidden #2)

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Forbidden Fire (Forbidden #2) Page 17

by Kimberly Kinrade


  "The party's not over yet, you bastard. We're still getting out of here, and I still have a loaded gun to your head."

  Chapter 30 – Sam

  The distance between us had never been so vast. Oceans and countries could settle in the space and we'd still have room to move.

  And to cry.

  What felt like hours had passed, and the tears kept coming. Blame the hormones or the whole being captured thing, but none of that mattered anymore. Every few minutes, with the tenacity of an OCD victim, I tested my mental link with Drake.

  Nothing.

  He breathed with a steady rhythm on the floor. I couldn't move him, and he wouldn't move himself. He didn't sleep, he didn't talk, he didn't do anything except lie there. No amount of coercion could get him to so much as look at me.

  But I couldn't give up. "Drake, it might not be permanent. I mean, everyone's powers are spurting on and off. It could be temporary. Please, just say something."

  Finally, he moved into a sitting position. "Don't you think I can tell the difference? It's like you tore a limb from my body or removed a vital organ. It's not inactive. It's gone. Completely gone, Sam. It's not coming back."

  His once loving eyes had hardened over with anger. His features no longer resembled the man I loved.

  I kicked the wall in frustration. I was so done with this. The Seeker will tell me what I want to know—no more nice Sam.

  The Seeker's mental signature blared forth like a beacon of light to ships lost at sea. I used my most commanding internal voice. "We need to talk."

  His mental voice sounded amused. 'We are talking, little sister.'

  "In person."

  The silence lingered beyond what was comfortable, but I waited.

  'I shall send someone to escort you.'

  On the last syllable of his thought, the door to our room opened and revealed a guard. 'Please do not harm him. You will not be able to reach his mind, but trying would only do to him what was done to poor Mary.'

  Guilt sloshed inside my gut like sickness, but I ignored it, or tried to, until I saw her.

  Mary lay crumpled by the door, blood oozing from her nose and ears.

  What had we done? I had destroyed Drake to save her, and still I had failed.

  I stumbled at the sight, and the guard caught my arm and led me through the building and into the library. This room, too, had only candlelight for illumination. With so many books lining the walls, I would've thought they'd avoid the whole fire thing.

  My eyes adjusted in increments to the low lighting, until I could see the Seeker sitting in an overstuffed chair with his feet propped up on an ottoman. I took the seat across from him, my spine rigid with fear.

  His voice had an ethereal quality to it. "You have been crying. Are you hurt?"

  He closed his eyes. A presence, like a ghost or a cold wind, swept through my mind and was gone before I could block it.

  "No, not hurt. Not physically, at any rate. You have had a falling out with my brother. Let it not worry you, my dear. Time heals all wounds, even those of the heart."

  I held his pale gaze. His face betrayed his illness; I would've seen it even if I hadn't felt it in him. Sunken cheeks and dark circles around his eyes—death stalked him.

  "I want to know everything. Tell me about our... father." The word stuck in my throat, but I forced past it. "And about this organization. Why are you doing this? Why are you hurting so many kids?"

  "Hurting? My dear Sam, we are saving these kids from a life of testing and scorn, from a society that does not appreciate the genetic advances of our kind. As I told your friend Lucy—"

  "You talked to Lucy? What did you do to her? Is she okay?"

  "I did nothing but speak with her. She is a remarkable girl with amazing gifts of her own. I can see why she is your best friend. I explained this all to her, or the parts she needed to know, at least. She is not family, so I could not tell her everything. But you, my dear, you are primed to help our father run the next generation of this Organization. We are the next evolution of humans. That baby you carry is key."

  As if on cue, she kicked inside me. My hand hovered over my belly protectively. "What do you mean, she is the key?"

  "Have you not figured it out yet? Genetic mutations such as ours are natural, but flawed. We are at the forefront of a shifting genetic pool from which Darwin's fittest will emerge. But we are no longer at the mercy of unseen gods to propel us forward. We now have the god of science to speed along the process. We have discovered a way to breed out the weaknesses of our kind, and breed into them the best of all powers.

  "You were our first successful venture, but we knew we could do better. Combining the genetic material of our father, you, me, Drake, his mother, and some extra ingredients for fun, we created your child, the being you call Ana. What a quaint name, by the way. A lovely way of honoring of the woman who helped you escape. Quite a nuisance that was, but it is in the past. We shall think nothing more of it."

  The Seeker's madness had escalated to grandiose ambitions of taking over humanity, and yet our father stood at the head of this insane scheme. Was he even madder than the Seeker? What kind of genetic material had shaped me and my child?

  I tried to keep my voice calm, to choke back the tears that threatened to consume me. "But you hurt kids. You impregnate girls against their will, and then watch as they die when your experiments go wrong. Now, kids at school are being whipped and shot in the back of the head. You're harming the paranormal population more than society would have. You are the beast you claim to want to protect us from."

  He lowered his head. "It is a shame you feel that way. We are so close to the final piece that would save us all. Your friends retrieved a valuable weapon in our fight for freedom. Combined with you and your child, we will be invincible. We cannot allow any rebellion, not when our rightful place in the world is at our fingertips. We must maintain control. Do you not see? Our methods, though severe, are all for the greater good."

  I softened my voice. "Is this the legacy you want to leave when you die?"

  He looked up and his eyes widened in shock. "How do you know that? I have not allowed you access to those thoughts."

  "It wasn't hard to figure out. The nosebleed, your frailness... and I can feel the presence of death on you. What are you dying from?"

  His laugh held only bitterness. "I was not so fortunate as you in the genes. My powers are great, but they have come at a great price. My brain is eating itself. Even if I stopped using all of my powers, I would not live long. So I have done what I can to further the cause until I could pass the reigns to you, my sister."

  His unnatural calm returned. "Are you beginning to see? This is why we risk lives in genetic experimentation. Too many para-powers kill their hosts. Many of your friends will not survive past their twentieth birthday. But we have made advances, and with you and your baby's help, we can save the others and breed new children."

  My universe tipped and rebalanced. Everything I knew, everything I'd experienced now needed an entirely new labeling system. Right and wrong had ceased to be black and white. It had balled up into so many shades of gray that I couldn't decipher anything anymore.

  Could evil be justified by good intentions? Or was that truly the road to hell, as the saying went? My hand went to my belly. My thoughts went to Ana and the professor and Mary and Drake. No, evil is never justified, no matter the intention.

  "I understand what you're telling me, but there has to be a better way. Having the right motives doesn't justify what you're doing. Do you have any idea what kind of violation you are perpetrating on these girls when you impregnate them?" I moved closer to him and held his eyes. "Help me, brother. Help me set this whole business back on course. We can give these kids real freedom, not this tyranny you've created. We can create a new environment for them, one where they won't be beaten and killed and experimented on against their will."

  The only way he could see, the only way he could truly know what he had do
ne was to show him, to make him feel what I felt. I had to merge with him the way I had merged with Drake, but to do so I had to become completely vulnerable.

  I hesitated. My sweaty hands clenched and unclenched. As much as I wanted it to, time did not stand still for this. It moved inexorably forward, carrying the safety of my friends with it.

  Without further thought, I reached for him, opened myself and allowed him to merge completely with me.

  Every memory, ever fear, every tear I'd cried and all my broken dreams, even every joy—I poured them all into the light of his consciousness.

  The betrayals and the pain, both psychical and emotional, threatened to engulf me, but still I poured. Still I opened.

  My first kiss with Drake, the feeling of love between us when finally we met in the flesh.

  My terror and fear at discovering I was pregnant.

  Drake's hands, covered in the blood of the man the Seeker had sent to hunt us.

  My hope and joy when I read my acceptance letter to Sarah Lawrence.

  The loss of realizing I would never have any of that life that I'd spent years cultivating in my mind.

  Ana, dying in my arms—for me.

  I fed him the thoughts and fears and memories of others—of Mary as her mind collapsed, of Luke and Lucy when they lost their mother, of the countless Rent-A-Kids whose lives he'd taken away.

  He fell to the floor and curled up into a ball. His pleas were neither mental nor verbal, but I understood nonetheless.

  'Please, stop. It hurts. So. Much. Pain. Stop.'

  "I'm not trying to hurt you out of spite. I need you to see the real effects of what you and your father have done. I need you to understand it's not worth it, not the way you are doing it."

  Being open at this level created a two-way link. Just as he had access to my emotional and mental dump, so too could I feel and see his.

  Fear of death colored everything. He had always been valued by his father because of his para-powers, and now those very powers were the cause of his death.

  He feared his father's disapproval, his withdrawal of love and pride. He craved family and connection, friendships not driven by fear, greed or compulsion.

  In that moment, I saw past the enemy and into the man….

  ***

  A small boy sits alone in a dark, locked closet. He cries and cries, but no one comes. He knows he must perform. He must find the other minds like his—minds with special gifts. "The darkness will force you to focus," his father had said.

  Has it been hours? Days? He doesn't know anymore. Filth and urine stick to his cramped legs. He tries to find them, tries to see where the others are.

  And one appears, like a star in the night. He sees the other mind. "Father! Father! I did it. I know where one is."

  A hand grips him and pulls him out. His eyes can't open in the light, and his legs don't work, but he tries to tell what he saw.

  The hand crashes into his face and sends him across the floor. His father's voice fills the room. "That's not enough. Find more. We need more."

  And so he does….

  The boy is older now, a teenager with a love of his own. She has red hair and freckles he likes to trace with his fingertip.

  Myra. Myra who can calm oceans, who can also calm his soul.

  They sit at the Hub, eating and laughing and talking. It's her birthday, and they want to sneak off campus to see the real world. The boy knows he can do this; his father has made sure he is powerful enough to do anything, even though he pretends to be a normal paranormal kid at the school, like everyone else. Only Myra knows his true identity.

  But the memory is corrupted, and the sky rains down blood as the boy cries and holds the broken, dead body of his love.

  A door stands at his side. The door to memory. The door to truth.

  He can't open it, but he must.

  He walks through the door and sees his father, holding the bloody knife that killed his Myra.

  ***

  The connection broke and both the Seeker and I fell to our knees.

  He whimpered. "No. No, it can't be. Not my father. No, No!"

  We stared at each other, and I knew he remembered. His father had killed Myra, not some secret organization that hated paranormals. His father had manipulated him and wiped his memory of the knowledge, so that he would work for the good of the cause.

  I reached out to touch his hand. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

  He wiped the tears on my cheek that I didn't know were there. "How could I forget? How could I let him do that to my mind?"

  I opened my mouth to answer. "It's not—"

  A fire alarm rang in the distance. Tendrils of smoke crawled in under the door of the library.

  The Seeker's eye grew wide. "The building is burning down. We have to leave, now."

  My mind tumbled with thoughts of my safety and care for my child, then landed on the most burning fear of all.

  Drake.

  "He's locked in a room" I said, "and won't be able to get out. He's still hurt from what happened to him."

  "There's no time. For the sake of your child, you have to leave."

  I had to choose? My life for Drake's?

  I couldn't live with either outcome.

  Chapter 31 – Lucy

  Lucy shoved Mr. Black into the guard shack that connected to the main gate, and forced him to sit down. She explored the small cubicle-like area. It had been designed for two men on duty, with two chairs, a computer console, the gate keypad, a speaker, and a garbage can with empty cans of soda and trash from vending machine junk. She used one hand to hack into the system while she kept the gun pointed at Mr. Black.

  Everything she tried created an error message. Sweat beaded on her hand holding the gun, but she couldn't stop to wipe it—couldn't give Mr. Black an edge.

  She slammed her fist on the small desk in frustration. "How do I open the gate?"

  Mr. Black shrugged. "You need a password, and I'm not giving it to you."

  She waved the gun in front of his face, then aimed it at his forehead. "You do realize I still have a gun, right? I mean, I'm more deadly with this than with my para-power."

  His laugh lacked any humor. "You think I care if you kill me? The only thing that matters is my daughter, and if I help you and your friends escape, she'll die. So go ahead, pull the trigger."

  Without her powers, Lucy had to rely on her instincts once again. She hated this feeling of uncertainty and emptiness, but she'd seen Mr. Black with his daughter, and knew that connection was real. The daughter was the key to getting him to cooperate.

  "I'm surprised at you, Mr. Black. You've obviously had some military training, been around the world a bit. I'd think you would know when you're being played. These people pride themselves on being genetically superior to everyone else. Do you really think they'd give you the cure for your daughter's illness, even if they had it?"

  His lips twitched slightly.

  "We—my friends and I—are this organization's idea of the perfect human specimens, and still they've lied to us, imprisoned us and impregnated many of us. You really think they're going to treat you and your daughter any better? If they were going to save your daughter, they would've done so by now."

  Her words settled into him, but she could see the fight behind his eyes. "You think I'm going to listen to you, Bitch. You don't know what I can do, what they've promised me."

  "You're right, I don't. But I know it's all lies. Why would they help someone they think is inferior? Have they done anything but barely keep her alive? Have they given you any reason to think you can trust them?" She stepped back from him, but kept her gun aimed as she leaned against the desk behind her. "You're an ass, but you're not stupid. Think. Whose side do you want to be on now?"

  Outside, guns fired, people screamed, friends died. Lucy hovered on the brink of irrational behavior, struggling to keep herself calm while Mr. Black thought. And thought. And thought.

  She shoved the gun against his head again
. "My friends are dying and I'm losing patience. Decide."

  Lucy could see as he reluctantly accepted the truth of her words, a truth he very much did not want to believe. Letting go of the lie meant letting go of the last hope his daughter had to live. A small twinge of empathy floated through her, but it changed nothing. Too many were already paying for his indecisiveness.

  "If I let you out, are you going to shoot me?"

  "No, Mr. Black. I'm not you. If you open these gates, I'll help you get your daughter out of here."

  "Sure, like I would trust you. I know you want to punish me for the things you think I've done. Why would you help me?"

  "First, I'm not going to let your daughter suffer alone in there. She needs you and she's a true innocent in all of this. Second, I'm not a monster."

  "Fine. The password is 4321978."

  Lucy raised her hand and began typing in the numbers, but something in the shift of his eyes and the shuffle of his stance stopped her. "You're lying."

  His eyes widened. "You have your powers back? But how—"

  "No, I don't. But as someone once told me, humans can tell right from wrong, even without powers. I assume a false code will trip some kind of security shut-down? Nice try, but you need to give me the correct code, or things are going to get ugly here. I'm not going to let all of these students die for you."

  Mr. Black nodded and typed in the correct code. "I underestimated you."

  Lucy laughed as the gates rolled open.

  Chapter 32 – Sam

  Time ticked by in my head with each heartbeat. Save myself or save Drake?

  That would have been easy to answer. The real question was much harder. Save Drake or save our child?

  I jumped for the door. "I can't leave him to die. We have to go find him." My mind could only hold one thought: Drake is in trouble.

  I should have made room for a few more thoughts—like doorknobs hot enough to brand a human's skin.

  A scream tore out of my throat, and I pulled back my blistered hand. The Seeker tsk-tsked and tore a piece of cloth from his white robe, but his hands fumbled and shook. He tried again, though the pained expression on his face showed that the effort cost him. "Here, use this as a bandage."

 

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