by Shutt, Tom
It had been a long drive home, and the tension in the air was palpable. Her attempt at cold-shouldering her father had melted away several miles ago, and now she wanted little more than to collapse into her bed with the help of a little wine.
Or a lot of wine.
Her power’s absence kept her on edge. It was unnerving, not knowing what others were thinking around her. She hadn’t realized until now just how heavily she had drawn on its insights. How she longed to escape into another person’s eyes, to hear another person’s thoughts besides her own. It was impossible, though, and she now trusted her safety to an aging manservant, her never-aging father, and the relative security provided to her by being miles from the city.
And I will have my mother, of course, Alex added. Nobody could hear her thoughts, but she felt guilty about excluding her from the mental checklist. Not that she can do much protecting.
On top of that, she knew that her temporary protection of Detective Brennan had come to an end. Heinrich and the rest of Leviathan would be coming for his blood, and there was nothing she could do to warn him. Perhaps Benjamin and his Sleepers could still stop the serial killer even after Brennan was dead. It was the best she could ask for if she ever hoped to live securely in the city again.
The car door opened, and Kern reached out a hand to help her up. He dutifully walked ahead of them to get the front door as well. “Thank you, Kern,” Alex said, touching him on the shoulder. It was an action she’d seen her mother do on occasion when she was younger, a kind gesture for a fatherly figure.
“Of course,” he replied. Kern looked to her father. “Dinner will be ready within the hour.”
“I’ll be in my study until then.”
“Very good, sir.”
Alex left them in the foyer and took the curved flight of stairs to the second floor. Her room lay at the end of the hall, directly above the converted room where her mother now resided. She hung her jacket on a nearby hook and fell onto the plush bed, not even bothering to take off her shoes. The comforter felt good beneath her head, and sleep tempted her with ease. Her eyes were heavy, and it felt like much longer than a day ago that she had lost her powers.
I don’t want to be here.
The thought pushed its way into her head, and Alex frowned up at the ceiling. She wanted everything to go back to normal. Or, at least, her version of what was normal. Only one good thing had come of the past few days, and that had been the brief realization that she could grow and adopt other abilities. That bit of experimentation had ended, though, when it short-circuited everything she could do, including the simplest bit of telepathy.
Still, this was the best place for her to recover. She did want to be here. It must have been the depression talking, or else she was crazier than she’d thought. She certainly didn’t want to be in the city right now, not with a serial killer on the loose.
Her bedroom windows faced the west, and the setting sun threw harsh bolts of light into her face. Alex pulled a pillow over her head and tried to not think about anything. That set her on a dangerous path of thinking about not thinking, and the subsequent thoughts about that conundrum. She wasn’t used to being stuck in her own head.
How do normal people do it? she wondered. She quickly discarded the thought. There was a reason she lived in a luxury apartment above the rest of the city; she was special, an elite, truly above the rest of the city’s inhabitants. The only person who could compare to her abilities was her father.
“And Benjamin,” she sighed. The old man and his Sleepers were nearly on her level—but only nearly so. Now that she knew they were real, she could defend herself from their psychic probes into her sleeping mind. She would take what they could offer while developing her own powers, and when the time came, she would be the strongest of them all. “For that to happen,” she said aloud, “I need to rest.”
As hard as she willed it, though, sleep didn’t come for her. It was a major setback in her plan to become the ultimate Sleeper. Sleep seemed like a necessary component in the job description.
Alex slipped off her shoes and crawled further onto the bed. She yawned, hoping to trick her brain into thinking it was later in the day than it actually was. The heaviness in her eyelids returned, and the comfort of the mattress increased fivefold. She closed her eyes for the briefest of moments.
“Miss Brüding,” prompted Kern’s polite voice from the doorway. “Dinner is ready.”
Alex groaned loudly enough for him to hear her. Her eyes were closed and her face was still covered by a pillow, but she knew the sun had set. It was a cool, dark evening. The table was set for two, and there was a visitor in the driveway who would soon need attending to.
Poor child.
She bolted upright in bed and stared at Kern. “Did you say something?”
“Dinner is—”
“No, no,” she interrupted impatiently, “after that.”
Kern shook his head. “I don’t believe so, no, Miss.” The doorbell rang, and Kern turned his white head to glance down the hall. “If you will excuse me.”
“I told you to call me Alex,” she called after him. She heard his amused chuckle echo down the hall, and a similar feeling spread through her chest. It hadn’t originated from her, which could only mean one thing. Alex reached for her power and she felt it there, waiting, as if she were dipping the tips of her fingers into a placid pool of icy water. Goosebumps spread along her arms and her hairs raised on end.
She moaned appreciatively as it swept over her body. Same as taking a dive into a frigid lake, Alex quickly became readjusted to its presence, swaddling herself in the cocoon of extrasensory awareness. She jumped into Kern’s mind, seeing through his eyes and hearing through his ears.
A large man was at the door. He wore a faded leather jerkin over an outfit of jeans and a camouflage shirt. His broad chest was barely contained by the worn material, and a messy crop of dark hair jutted from his head. Flecks of silver shined at the temples. “Is James in?”
“I’m sorry, sir, but Mister Brüding is preparing to sit down to dinner.”
“It’s urgent,” the stranger said. “I need to speak with him as soon as possible.”
Hmm, sounds intriguing, Alex thought, and she sent a probe toward the newcomer. Instantly, she was met with a flare of violent purple light, as if she had come up against a force field. In fact, that was exactly what had happened. She watched through Kern’s eyes as the stranger shifted his gaze, glaring up in the direction of her bedroom.
“I wouldn’t do that again, if I were you,” he said to Kern.
In her bedroom, Alex shivered. She had the distinct impression that he knew she was watching through the butler’s eyes. She knew that he knew she had just tried to read him, and he had been more than prepared. Just like Heinrich and his men, she thought, glowering at the idea that so many “others” had been trained to resist her.
She withdrew her probe from Kern and slipped out of the business attire she had worn to the meeting in the Jardin des Anges. It was wrinkled now, and there were more suitable outfits to wear around the house. When she had changed into something more comfortable, Alex walked down the hall and took a different staircase than before, one which avoided the foyer and emerged into the kitchen. From there, she moved to join her father in the dining room.
“Alexis,” he murmured, drawing her in with his arms. He kissed her lightly on the crown of her head, and she returned his warmth briefly. She hadn’t forgotten the secrets he was keeping, though, and she realized that he would still think she was powerless. Perhaps she could question him during dinner, when his guard would be down.
“I think someone is here to see you,” she said in lieu of a proper greeting.
James nodded. “I know who it is. Why don’t you and Kern get started without me?” he suggested, and he pulled out a chair for her to sit. “The sooner I can deal with him, the sooner he’ll be out of our hair.”
“Go do what you need to,” Alex said, playing the part of the dutiful daug
hter.
He smiled at her, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He strode purposefully down the hall, into the foyer, where he relieved Kern of his job in delaying the visitor. Alex felt Kern’s gratitude wash through his body. Her perception felt even stronger than before. She had to keep herself from grinning like an overexcited fool; Kern was loyal, but that loyalty extended more deeply to her father than to herself. If he realized her powers had returned, the news would soon reach her father’s ear.
Alex forced her own smile as Kern appeared, looking affable and concerned at the same time. “It is not my place to speak ill of your father’s acquaintances,” he said, “but that man has an air of darkness about him.”
“You think so as well?” she asked. Alex had no feelings about the man yet, other than distrust, but if she planned on having a source of information close to her father, she could do no better than their faithful butler. They already had a connection; now she needed to solidify his allegiance, and that started by creating common ground.
“Oh, yes,” Kern said enthusiastically, before he cleared his throat. “But I forget myself. If I may have your plate…?”
She handed the dish to him, and he disappeared into the kitchen, returning a minute later with a full complement of meat, potatoes, green vegetables, and a biscuit. In his other hand, Kern carried a bottle of red wine, one of the older vintages that her father kept in the basement. “Is tonight a special occasion?” she asked.
“Any time that you are home is a special occasion,” Kern said, smiling faintly.
“Oh, Kern, you’re such a flirt.”
He poured her a modest portion of wine, two fingers’ worth. Kern had grown up in the age of scotch and brandy, and it seemed the habit for portioning drinks in such a way had never left him. “It is true, Miss—Alex,” he amended, catching her stern glare. “It has not been the same since you moved out, and with Mister Brüding so occupied with his research, your presence has been sorely missed.”
Alex smiled, with feeling this time, as she raised her glass to him. “With all the trouble in the city and the clock winding down, perhaps it’s time I returned home for a bit,” she said. There was no need to clarify which clock she meant; there was only one scale of time that mattered in any way to her father. “I can spend these final few months with Mom,” she added in a whisper.
“I’m sure she would be delighted to have your company,” Kern said.
There was the sound of raised voices in the other room, though the incident passed too quickly for Alex to hear what was said. A moment later, the door slammed, and she heard her father’s steps approaching as he returned to the dining room.
“Derrick forgets himself,” he said by way of explanation. He glanced at Kern as he took his seat. “If Mr. Scott shows up unannounced in the future, I give you permission to handle him as you see fit.”
“Of course, sir.”
Alex looked between the two of them in confusion; Kern was too feeble to shovel snow from the driveway, much less fend off unwanted guests. She resisted the impulse to probe them for information, though. Thus far, her father had only permitted her to see what he wanted her to see. She didn’t want to set off any psychic wards like the ones she had found inside of the other man.
Everyone and their mother can resist me these days, she thought grudgingly. She kept the anger from showing in her eyes, though, as she looked up at her father and smiled. “Have you made any progress with the treatment?” It was a hopeless question, but the cure had become her father’s obsession.
His expression soured. “No breakthroughs yet. There just isn’t enough time,” he growled. “And with SymbioTech breathing down my neck, I can’t hire Leviathan to do anything untoward.”
‘Untoward’ was a diplomatic term for kidnapping people to use as test subjects, but Alex understood why he was speaking obtusely. “Kern, could you excuse us for a moment? I’d like to speak with my father in private.”
“Of course, Alex.” James glanced curiously at the casual usage of his daughter’s name, and Kern’s sagging cheeks reddened. “Miss Brüding,” he said, bowing slightly. He stepped out into the front hallway, closing the door behind him as he left.
“I wish you wouldn’t tease him like that,” James said, cutting off a piece of steak. “He is a man of discipline and obedience. If you take that away, what will be left?”
Alex sighed. “You’re right. Servants are made to serve.”
“That isn’t what I meant at all. Kern wasn’t always a servant, but he has always had discipline in his life. He follows orders. I’ve ordered him to refer to us with respect, and he feels most comfortable when carrying out orders.” He paused to chew and swallow another mouthful. “Now, you wanted to talk to me about something?”
She folded her hands on her lap, trying her best to look humbled. “I’m sorry I hired Heinrich without first consulting you,” she said. “I knew of no one else, and this was a job that only he and his men could perform on such short notice.”
James merely nodded. “What job was this?”
“I hired them to fake a hit on a detective,” she explained, “so that he would trust me after I saved him.”
“You may need to wind back the clock on this story.”
Alex took a deep breath and began anew. She explained how she had sensed a presence of extreme fury in her building, and how she had followed the disturbed thoughts to find the enraged man. James’s eyes darkened as she mentioned her conversations with Benjamin, but he remained quiet and let her continue. The rest of the story came in a blur. Leviathan’s attack. The brokered meeting between Brennan and Benjamin. The loss of her power.
She kept two details to herself. First, she never told him that her power was evolving, that she could “jump between branches,” as Benjamin had called it. Second, she didn’t disclose the true correlation between the murder victims. She wasn’t sure why; call it foresight, or call it a gut instinct, but she didn’t feel right revealing that particular piece of information.
Her face remained placid as she hid those facts from her father. She hadn’t missed the dark look that had passed over her father’s face, either. “So what is the history between you and Benjamin?”
James stared at her for a long moment. “Why did you think attacking the detective was the best way of earning his trust?” he asked.
Alex shrugged. “He thought he was in imminent danger, and I appeared to save him. I figured he would trust me implicitly the next time I showed myself.”
“And what does it matter if he trusts you?”
“Well now that I know about the Sleepers—thanks for the warning, by the way—it could be useful to have influence over a detective, particularly one who has distanced himself from Benjamin.”
James rubbed at his chin. “And he didn’t see your face in either instance?”
“No, I called him anonymously on his cell,” she explained, lying on multiple levels. “Why?”
“That’s just as well. These Sleepers can’t be trusted, Alexis.”
She gave him an irritated look. “You have to answer my question now. Why does Benjamin have people watching you? Did you used to be one of them?”
To her surprise, her father laughed out loud. It was a sound she seldom heard. “One of them?” he asked incredulously. “I may have lived a long time, but I do not yet have a death wish.”
“A frail, old man and his crippled grandson don’t seem too dangerous to me,” Alex muttered.
“That old man is the grandmaster of their order.”
“Grandmaster?”
James waved a hand dismissively. “A self-appointed title, basically worthless. But it does mean he was the first of them, the one who brought them all together. Your detective is one of them. There are countless others. My threat, as you and he both call it, is simply that I know they exist.”
“Detective Brennan seemed pretty adamant against meeting with Benjamin. Whatever happened between them, I think he’s on the outside no
w.”
One of her father’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “Now that is interesting,” he murmured. “Nonetheless, they met. I have little doubt that he has been roped back into the old man’s schemes.”
Alex eyed her father with suspicion. “So you really have nothing to do with Benjamin aside from being really old and knowledgeable?”
“Not as knowledgeable as I would like, not by half,” he said, his eyes unconsciously wandering in the direction of her mother’s room. “I know enough secrets, though, that Benjamin would like to see me dead.”
“Could he do it?” The question blurted out from her lips. “Is it even possible for you to die?”
James flexed a hand, and she watched as veins rolled from the movement of the muscles. “It was a long time ago, but I used to look younger. I am old, but not eternal.” He gave her a tired smile that crinkled the skin around his eyes. “I imagine my blessing will run out eventually.”
“Hopefully not too soon.”
“Are you truly worried about this serial killer? There’s nothing to fear, Alexis. If Benjamin is half the strategist I believe him to be, then Detective Brennan will be able to put an end to these deaths. Until then, you’ll be safe here.”
Alex took a sip of wine, which depleted her meager portion by half. “I just have one more question to ask before we can bring Kern back in.”
“Go ahead.”
“Why did you train Heinrich and his men to resist my power?” She prepared herself for the inevitable answer, the one that would break her spirit. Her father feared her, and he had actual henchmen who could fight against her if the need arose.
James frowned at her. “I didn’t teach them to resist you.” He reached out and took her hands between his. “You have to understand that there are others out there like us, and some of those people could very well have the same abilities. Can you imagine what your gift would be like in the wrong hands? What mine would cause? An ageless tyrant, or an all-knowing one…either would be disastrous.” He patted her hands and rested back in his seat. “So we must be cautious, and learn to moderate ourselves. The path onto which Benjamin leads his Sleepers is a dark one, and I refuse to be taken down by his folly.”