We were all a little bit of Frankenstein’s monster. After all, without the lightning, we would still be under Dexter’s control. And without Whitlee, we’d still be dead.
“Can I kill him?” she asked, her voice hard. “From here? Could I take them all out?”
“Ooo…” Nick smiled. “I like this side of you. Blood thirsty and sexy. Best combination ever.”
“Could she?” John asked. “It’d make things a hell of a lot easier.”
I shook my head. “Her connection is to us.” I was going to have to explain this. God help me. “We’re an electrical circuit, going around and around, and Whitlee is our battery.”
“Batteries die, though,” Carson said. “If Whitney is healing us, and we’re draining her…” His face paled. “We have to break the circuit.”
“No!” Whitlee exclaimed, at the same time I said, “It’s not necessary.”
“Why not?” Carson asked. He moved closer to Whitlee, who was shaking out her hands. I noted the blue tinge to her lips and then Carson slid his hand along her shoulders and drew her beneath his arm. The blue disappeared and her color pinked.
“There.” I pointed. “Because right there.”
Carson drew his eyebrows together, and Nick scoffed. “What the hell are you talking about, Dante?”
“You recharged her,” I said. “This circuit? It’s draining, but it’s also recharging. We take a little and we give a little, and that amount is enough to keep us all going. She’s struggling now because Brandon was injured. And all of us have wounds from being Uncontrolled. She regrew the skin on my face, and the bone in my jaw. She’s made our hearts beat. We’re taking more from her than we hopefully ever will in the future.”
“Yeah.” John glanced down the hill. “I don’t know if that’s going to be any time soon. It looks like we’re going to have to fight for Brandon.”
“Great,” Carson said. “So we get hurt and it hurts her.”
“Yes,” I said. “But we can also heal her. The way she healed Brandon down there.”
Whitlee let out a breath. “The way Carson healed my hand.”
I hadn’t known that. “Yes. The connection we have allows us to do that. But without Whitlee, none of it would work.”
“How can this…” Nick kissed Whitlee more gently than I thought he was capable. “…just a touch of my lips, heal her?”
I shrugged. That part needed to remain a mystery to them for a bit longer. I wasn’t sure I could stomach telling them yet. “I don’t know. All I know is Whitlee is our heart, and without her, we’d be dead.” If I had any fear about her sharing the same feelings I did, it disappeared when she smiled at me.
“So let’s go.”
28
Brandon
I’d never particularly thought of my friends as storming the castle types. They hadn’t been in their living years and yet there they were, running at us, weapons raised, prepared to rescue me from the monsters who held me. Maybe it was their bravery that finally inspired my own. Maybe it was the kiss I’d gotten from my girl. It didn’t matter. I wasn’t going to stand there and be a lump on a log while they did all the dirty work.
With rain pounding down on my head—did it ever stop?—I kicked Mace hard in the shin. His attention hadn’t been on me, having turned to see what the commotion was, and I took that opportunity to slam him to the ground. He’d always been bigger than me, meaner too. But hell, I was dead. He could kiss my rotting ass.
He fell over, my weight knocking him down. The others would have to handle Dex and his horde. They’d do whatever Dex said anyway. None of them could think for themselves. I wasn’t going to be anyone’s puppet to lure out Whit. I was done with being a victim to anything or anyone.
I lifted my fist, pounding Mace right in the face. My hand stung. I’d never really paid attention when it came to how to make a proper fist, having never foreseen needing these skills. But square in the nose was square in the nose. Blood splattered on me. It was Mace’s and maybe I was a little bit more macho than I realized because joy flooded through me.
I struck him again. And again. It wasn’t until the fifth punch that he got his hand up to stop me. I grinned at him as I managed to avoid his hit. “Better hope you can’t catch zombie from touching us. Except I bit you, right? You might be one already.”
Why not plant that fear? Why not make the fucker sit up at night and worry about that endlessly.
He’d left me to die.
He swung, rolling his weight, and I would have ended up under him if I hadn’t rolled away.
Suddenly I wasn’t alone. Dante put himself between Mace and me. He grabbed Mace’s hand. Dex shouted something behind me. I didn’t even turn and look. Whatever he was saying, he was scared. I knew fear when I heard it. I’d lived with it enough. Whitney came out of nowhere, throwing herself on Mace’s back. She wrapped her arms around his neck. He howled his surprise. She was smaller than him by a lot, but boy was she holding on for dear life.
I rushed forward. “Whit, are you crazy?”
“She’s not. She’s just capable.” Was that pride in Dante’s voice? Why was he standing there doing nothing?
Mace whirled around like a dog chasing his tail. I couldn’t watch him fling my girl, so I grabbed her mid-circle.
“Hey,” she said breathlessly, and then she smiled.
Not a Whit smile, this was a bloodthirsty crazy smile, and if she hadn’t been rescuing me, I’d have been a little scared. I was still a little scared.
Her eyes got big. “Watch out!”
Something grabbed my ankles, tugging me down, and I came face to face with a crawling Controlled. His legs were gone, and most of his face.
I had the horrifying thought that, if it hadn’t been for Whitney, this could be me. Dexter had no qualms keeping humans under his control, forcing them to do things they would never have done if they had self-awareness.
For the first time, Dex struck me as truly evil.
I yanked my foot back and then kicked it into the Controlled’s face. It was so close to deteriorating that my foot went through its head and I had to shake it off me.
“Brandon!” John yelled. I pushed to my feet, spinning to find him. “Help her!” Two Controlled had each of his arms and they dragged him toward the building I’d just left. A quick survey of the fight showed each of my friends overwhelmed by the sheer number of Controlled.
And there, well out of reach, was Dexter, face set in a mask of concentration.
And Gil, arms crossed, looking… bored.
I didn’t see Whitney anywhere.
“Brandon!” John screamed. The urgency in his voice was unmistakable. A flash of color drew my eye, and I saw what Mace had hidden with his size.
Whitney.
He held her against the building, fingers wrapped tight around her throat as he squeezed. She fought him, kicking and scratching, but he was twice her size.
“Whitney!” I yelled, sprinting toward her. Suddenly, there were a dozen Controlled between us. I fought them, but for every one that fell, another was ready to slow me down.
As I watched, Whitney’s face darkened and her movements became uncoordinated. Sluggishly, she slapped at Mace and all the while, she remained just out of reach.
“Dammit, Whitney!” It was something out of a nightmare. I needed to run, but I couldn’t because the Controlled grabbed my legs, my arms. They fell in front of me, tripping me when I finally got free of one.
I kept my eyes on the girl I loved, and I fought with every bit of strength I had to get to her in time, but it wasn’t enough. Too slow. Too weak.
Mace stepped away from her, letting her fall to the ground like a rag doll. He didn’t even set her down, just removed his hand so she dropped in a heap.
Everything seemed to stop. The Controlled halted in their movements, frozen like wind-up tin soldiers.
“Fucking bitch,” I heard Mace say, and I lost my mind.
I had fought him before for my life, but th
is was different. A new sort of desperation and anger filled me and all I wanted to do was destroy.
He didn’t see me.
Somehow I made it to her, dropped to my knees and rolled her over.
“I’m okay, Brandon.” Her words were made null by the fact that she spit out blood. “Watch out.”
Mace moved right then and she did, too. In a sequence I could never have imagined, Whit grabbed Mace’s knife and plunged it into his stomach. Mace stared at her open-mouthed, stumbling backward.
Whitney didn’t flinch. She tilted her head slightly to the side as he fell over. “That’s going to kill you, Mace. Do you suppose you’ll rise again as one of Dex’s zombies? Even if you somehow manage to pull it out, you’ll get an infection and pass away slowly as your body eats itself from the inside out. Maybe you’d better pray you die fast.” She slammed her foot down on the knife, driving it deeper into his gut.
He cried out in pain. She lifted her eyes to meet mine. “No one gets to hurt who’s mine. That’s how it is. And maybe I’m evil, but I don’t feel bad about this. Not even a little bit.”
I pulled her to me. This was shocking to say the least, but she wasn’t evil. I knew this girl inside and out. And she had just killed a man. For me.
She doubled over, grabbing her stomach. Fuck. Was she hurt? “Whit?”
“Something’s wrong. Something.” Her eyes widened. “John. They’re hurting him. Badly. Brandon, get to John.”
I took off running without thinking. Whit was connected to us. If she said he was seriously hurt, he was. I charged back in the direction where he’d been, grabbing Isaiah’s arm as I passed him. He’d just finished taking down a Controlled.
“Whitney says John.”
Isaiah didn’t say another word but ran with me. Soon, I had Carson and Nick, too. I skidded to a stop. Sure enough. Whitney had been right. Lying flat on his back in the middle of the field alone was my friend. His eyes were sightless as he stared up at the sky.
A scream sounded behind me. Whitney covered her mouth but kept making the sound. It was the outpouring of grief. She hadn’t known him long, but given everything, I had no doubt how she felt. Tears sprung to my eyes, but I didn’t shed them. Next to me, Isaiah was so still I wasn’t sure he breathed at all.
Dante strode to John’s body, placing a hand on his chest. A second later he shook his head. “No.”
“How? I keep him alive. I keep all of you alive.”
He touched the place over John’s heart. “Even you can’t stop a bullet from doing what it does. But…” He stepped back, running a hand over the entirety of his face before he spoke again. Somehow he’d been fixed. That was probably a Whit miracle. “Now we see.”
“See what?” I could hardly speak.
“If he rises again.”
29
Whitney
This was all my fault.
I had to be a badass. Not only had I killed Mace, but I had to monologue while I did it like some sort of movie character. God. What had I done?
I didn’t know how I ended up at John’s side, but there I was on my knees in the dirt as his beautiful dark brown eyes stared through the treetops to the beautiful clear blue sky.
His expression was placid, though not peaceful. My body hurt, like he was an extension of myself, and his injury transferred to me. Breathlessly, I hovered over him, my eyes on his chest.
Lift.
And then to his eyes. Blink. Please.
I felt someone kneel next to me, their body pressing against me. Isaiah’s breath bellowed from his lungs as he stared at his brother. “John.” His voice broke, and he shook him. “Come back, you son of a bitch.”
“That one’s mine,” my brother said.
Our distraction had cost us, and now my father, his guards, and Dex surrounded us. Dex’s gaze, however, wasn’t on me. The only time I’d seen him this excited was the one and only time my father hadn’t forgotten his birthday.
It was like John was his present, tied up in a bow.
“He’s not yours,” I said. My voice sounded like an old woman’s: hoarse and croaking.
“He’s not yours.” Dex smiled. “He never tied himself to you. You weren’t his choice, Whit Whit. Which means, he defaults to me. He’s mine. I can feel him there, hovering on the edge of my mind. It won’t be long.” Dexter studied each of us and his face turned serious. “Get the rest of them away. I don’t want him coming to and seeing them.”
I stood. “You won’t take him.”
Isaiah stood as well, and then the others, forming a wall between John’s body and my father and brother.
Dexter huffed and crossed his arms. “Jesus, Whitney. It’s your fault he’s dead. Just give him over.”
“It’s not her fault,” Brandon answered. “She’s not evil. Not like you.”
“She’s my daughter.” It was the first time my father had spoken, and he regarded me with something like pride. “Taking your revenge on Mace? Pure Lake.”
In the distance, I heard a storm, but it was nothing compared to the chaos in my mind. Pure Lake. His words played over along with my actions. What had I done?
“Whitney, no.” Isaiah’s hand folded over mine, jerking me to the present. I didn’t deserve his comfort. I’d stolen his brother from him as surely as my brother waited to steal John’s freedom.
Straightening my shoulders, I glared at Dexter and Dad. They were right. I was a Lake. And it was my fault. But if I did nothing else, I would keep them from taking John from us. “I’m not letting you take him.”
Dexter’s eyes flicked toward something. At once, we were surrounded by Controlled. They didn’t wait for us to gather our wits, but went right for our throats. Through a haze, I fought them, but each person’s face became John’s. Was this one someone’s true love? Was this one a father?
When Dante shot a woman in the head, ending her undead life, was he stealing a mother from her children?
My mind wouldn’t settle and it wasn’t the time. We weren’t safe…
A sound from the ground stopped everyone from moving. The battle stopped, even the Controlled seemed to cease their attack. John’s eyes flew open. The dark depths that had challenged, amused, supported, and sometimes wounded me in the brief time I’d known him were vacant. None of the candor, intelligence, or heat that made up John shone back to me.
Dexter nodded. “See? I told you. Mine.”
“John,” I tried to get his attention. “You don’t have to go with Dexter. You stay with me. You come back to us.” My voice shook. Emotion in front of my father had always been a problem, but I was so far from caring.
“You take your five and you leave us alone now.” Dexter flipped his hand in my general direction like I was a gnat around his ear. “I’m confident now that I will have all of them back eventually. One by one. They’ll come back to me. And then you’ll have no one, Whit. You’ll come to find me then. You’ll be grateful for my help.
I took a long breath. “Have you told him, Dex? Have you told our father what you’re planning? Has he, Dad? Do you know?”
I stepped back. My father rounded on Dexter. He clearly didn’t have a clue about Dex’s ultimate goal of taking over Roanoke. They could fight this out. Getting away unscathed was the idea, and if they ended up killing each other, then so be it.
“John,” I tried again. “You broke away once. You can again. Come back to us.”
Dante tugged me toward him, and I let him. Before long, we were running and no one was chasing. I didn’t even really know what was going on.
All I could see was John and his lifeless eyes. He was dead. Gone. His consciousness belonged to Dex now. I’d lost him.
I stopped running and rounded on Dante, dropping his hand. “I think you’ve got more to say.”
He nodded, not arguing with my assessment. “Not here. But tonight. I promise.”
That was fair. “Where is here?”
I didn’t recognize my surroundings at all.
�
�Nowhere.” Nick slung his arm around my shoulder and drew me to him. “This is not your fault. You know that, right?”
“I don’t. I think it’s very much my fault. But I don’t know what to do about it right now.”
Isaiah pointed left. “That way. Another few miles. There’s an abandoned house that wasn’t destroyed when everything fell apart. Assuming it’s still standing, we can stay there. John found it on one of our early expeditions.”
I followed them through the forest to the house like I was one of the Controlled. If Nick hadn’t held my hand, I wouldn’t have moved a foot from where we’d stood.
The house was set in a hollow. Once upon a time, it was probably someone’s adorable cottage away from the city. In every slightly sagging line of the house, someone’s love of this place was obvious.
The garden had long since overgrown, but the roses and morning glories lent a beautiful wildness. The climbing plants covered the windows, stretching into the eaves, so when we went inside, the house was dark. It felt like a secret, like no one would find us here if we didn’t want to be found.
Nick led me to a sofa and pushed me to sit. A cloud of dust exploded from the cushions, and I sneezed.
“Bless you,” Nick said as I struggled to control my breath.
I lost control. Tears leaked from my eyes and my nose ran. I went from sneezing to sobbing. Burying my face in my hands, I let the full impact of what I’d done wash over me.
“Stop, Whitney,” Nick said. His lips pressed against my head, but I couldn’t stop.
“I did this.” I lifted my gaze and searched for Isaiah. “I am so sorry.”
He shook his head. “This isn’t on you.”
“Did you see what I did?” I shouted. I felt a tug in my soul, and for a second, I thought I could see a spark of electricity leading from me to each one of them. Like a circuit breaker, though, I switched it off. No. I couldn’t be trusted with that. Brandon knelt next to me and I squeezed my knees.
Lightning Strikes: A Reverse Harem Paranormal Romance (The Storm Book 1) Page 16