I bet he was. I was sort of sick of my own secrets, too. I’d had a good life until that one moment that I never let myself think about. Maybe if Dante’s theory about psychic abilities were right then that event would make sense.
When I thought back, I’d known all day something was going to happen. I’d felt it. And when the drugged-up man had broken into my apartment to rob me in the middle of the night, I hadn’t even been surprised. I’d been ready.
Bat in hand, I’d defended myself until he was dead on my kitchen floor. They hadn’t charged me with anything since it was self-defense, but what had eaten me every day for the rest of my living years and apparently followed me into death was the question: if I’d somehow known it was going to happen, was it still self-defense?
But like then, I was sure of something now. I got to my feet. “We need to go get John. Hold onto your secrets for one more day, Dante. We need to go.”
Nick nodded at me. “If Carson says we have to go, we go.”
“Someone go get Whit,” I said. Now that I’d recognized the feeling of anticipation, energy zipped along my muscles. I felt ready to run a race—or battle some zombies. I shut my eyes, imagining John. For the first time since Dante had described our connection, I tried to picture it.
A circuit. I pictured wires running from a battery, making a circle. Each wire connected to another wire, copper ends twisting together to link. But something was missing. The wire was still there, John, but the ends were disconnected. Rather than being wrapped like a vine, one end to another, they were millimeters apart. The electricity came to a stop, sparking impotently as it tried to jump the gap between endings.
Huh. The connection was still there. The spark was still there. Which made me think…
“Go get Whitney, I have an idea.”
34
Whitney
When I ran out of words, Brandon held me. I thought he’d want to talk about what I’d done with Isaiah, and I even expected him to be hurt, but he wasn’t. One of the first things he did was lay my guilt to rest.
And then he talked about John.
Like he felt what I did, he spoke about the loss of his friend. His real upset was that John was gone. I curled into Brandon’s arms and felt him play with my hair. The soothing motion had almost lulled me to sleep when the door burst open, slamming against the wall.
“Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey.” Nick stood, hands over his eyes. His fingers separated and he winked his dark brown eyes us. “Oh good, you’re decent. Carson wants to talk to all of us, so let’s go.” He spun around and pretended to run. “This is what you should be doing. Hurry up.”
I laughed and immediately slapped my hand over my mouth.
Nick jolted as if I’d electrocuted him and next to me Brandon startled. “Did you feel that?”
Without turning around, Nick nodded. “Yeah. Come on.”
I got out of bed and found my jeans. I’d pulled on a shirt, but from the waist down, had been clad only in my underwear. “What happened?” I asked Brandon as I wrestled the pants over my hips.
“A jolt,” Brandon said. He peered into a mirror above a dusty bureau. “Look at my cheeks.” He faced me. Along his cheekbones was a dusky pink flush. I reached out to touch it.
“Your skin has changed,” I remarked. “It’s firmer now.” Pressing my fingers into it, it blanched and then pinked. “The way it used to be.”
“I feel like I used to feel,” Brandon said, waiting for me to button my pants. He took my hand as soon as I covered the waistband with my shirt. “But when you laughed, I suddenly felt even better. I don’t know, Whit.”
Before we started downstairs, he pulled me into his arms and kissed me. It would never stop being a miracle that he held me. And that he loved me back.
“I love you,” I said when we separated. “You know that, right? Even with everything?” I took a breath. “Everyone?”
His smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Not only do I know it, I feel it.”
“Good.”
He kissed me one more time. “I don’t know why this is, why any of it works, let’s just take it as a great thing and not overthink it.”
I supposed that sounded like exactly the right move. I wasn’t going to question if he was okay again. I was done with that thinking.
I came into the room, wishing there really was eggs and bacon. Or a shower. Since those things weren’t an option, I just put on a smile and moved on. I couldn’t complain. I was better off than I could have been. And even when I’d had creature comforts, I’d been miserable. I’d take pseudo-pioneer living to the agony of being under my father’s thumb any day of the week.
“We need to go get John. I just feel it. Now.” Carson clapped his hands together. “Let’s hop to it.”
He was serious. I could see it on his face. I had the sense that when Carson got serious, people listened to him. I would certainly do the same. “Do we know where they are?”
“Roanoke. Right where we left them,” Nick supplied. “Carson and I saw them last night when we stole the car. I know that’s a huge space to cover, but I saw a large horde of the Controlled there.”
Dante rose. “Sounds like a good place to start. Let’s go there. And when this is over I know I owe all of you more of an explanation.”
Nick waved his hand. “It’s lasted this long. You can tell us how you personally destroyed the world later. Move it. Hustle people.”
I hoped Carson was right. John needed to be freed from my brother. I chewed on my lip, remembering my dream. Was he somewhere looking for me? He didn’t have to be part of this… whatever this was that we were doing… but he had to be not under my brother’s direction. That much was for sure. Dex didn’t care about his people.
I climbed into the SUV Nick had gotten us and then paused as Carson got into another one. I smirked at Nick. “You stole two cars?”
“How were we supposed to pick which one?”
“Two cars, both with gas, that seems like over-the-top good luck,” I said.
“I’m thinking the same thing,” Brandon muttered, shutting the door with a slam.
Nick started it and looked in his rearview mirror. His gaze met mine and he quirked an eyebrow. “That’s probably because I stole them from your dad. Did you know Gil has a fleet of cars? All gassed and ready to roll?”
That certainly added another layer of danger to their late-night heist. “You went into Roanoke?”
Nick began to drive along the dirt road that led to the cottage. The trees were thick and green and overhung the road. They scraped along the top of the car as we bounced across potholes and swerved to avoid puddles.
“I did. And it was a ghost town. I wouldn’t call it a challenge at all, would you, Carson?” Carson was in the other car, but Nick pitched his voice higher and went on. “You’re right, Nick. But everything you do is genius, so I had no doubt of your ability.” He spoke in his regular tone again. “See? Carson agrees.”
Despite myself, I smiled. “You’re incorrigible.”
Nick pretended to twist his mustache. “That’s me.”
He rolled onto the highway and slowed. Cars still lined the road, and at times, he had to drive around the old vehicles or onto the embankment.
“I’m always struck by how quickly everything fell apart,” Brandon said. “It’s been how many years since the Infection? And nature is taking the whole world back.”
Grass grew tall in the cracks of the road, and I knew, if I opened my windows, I’d hear birds and crickets.
“We’re thrown back in time,” I replied. “Soon, there’ll be no gas, and we’ll have to figure out a new way to get around. Sure we can siphon it, but there are limits to everything. I wonder if there are places and communities that are embracing this, and not fighting it like my dad.”
“Probably,” Brandon replied.
Isaiah cleared his throat. “Storm’s coming.”
I peered through the windshield, but all I saw was blue sky and sun.
I turned around to look out the back, and there were puffy white clouds behind us.
“Feel it in your knees, old man?” Nick asked.
“Something like that.” Isaiah rubbed his hands down his face. “I can’t explain it. I’ve never felt this before. It’s like that moment right before you get zapped by static electricity.” He held his hands out. “I can almost see it.”
I leaned over and touched his shoulder, and he smiled at me. It was probably supposed to be reassuring, but came across strained.
“We’ll talk to Dante,” I said. “I bet he can explain.”
His mouth became even tighter and after a moment he got out, “I don’t doubt it.”
“Try to relax.” I rubbed his arm. It was impossible to touch Isaiah and not think about the night before. He’d been— I should probably not let my mind go there right this second. We had lots to concentrate on, like finding John and getting him away from the horde and then figuring out how to separate him from Dex’s control.
Truth was, I was ill equipped for any of this. I could probably grab John, but the rest of it? I didn’t have a clue what I was doing.
Whatever storm Isaiah felt seemed to be far off. Isaiah leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes. “Sorry. I’m suddenly tired.”
“Did Whit keep you up snoring?” Nick laughed.
Isaiah kicked the back of his seat. “No. She’s very silent when she sleeps. Every once in a while she makes a little sigh. It’s kind of hot.”
I groaned. “No. We’re not doing this. Talking about how I sleep is just creepy. End of story.”
Nick shrugged. “Guess I’ll just have to get some Whit bed time.”
I had to be beet red. I was so embarrassed my cheeks actually throbbed from the heat in them.
But Nick wasn’t done. He winked at me in the rearview mirror. “You’re adorable when you blush.”
I so wasn’t.
We drove in companionable silence for a while, Isaiah actually falling asleep. Was he okay? I was going to worry any time any of them were tired. Was I somehow not giving them what they needed?
I took his hand in mine. It was warm. He didn’t budge or open his eyes, and I released his fingers from my own, noticing the slightest blue dot on the ends of each of his fingers. Maybe everything had gotten back to normal for him. Was the infection coming back? Had he always had that? Was it some kind of tattoo?
I’d ask him when he woke. As it was, his chest rose and fell. Perhaps he really was just tired.
Brandon leaned down toward me from the front seat. “Try not to worry.”
“I can’t help that. It’s how I’m built.”
Nick pointed ahead. “There. Roanoke. Burning.”
The last word had my attention. I jerked forward. Nick was right. Roanoke was on fire. Behind us, Carson’s car skidded to a stop.
“Fuck.” Nick jumped out. “Looks like something has gone very wrong.”
It obviously had but that wasn’t my biggest concern at the moment. We’d have to figure out what happened inside the walls in a little bit because right then a giant group of Controlled bore down on us.
Isaiah jumped from the car, obviously fine. He and Brandon flanked me while Nick ran to join up with Dante and Carson. I stared at the crowd.
“Whit,” Carson called out to me. “Look left. I’m looking right. John. He’s here. I know it.”
I sucked in my breath. “Look?”
How did I do that with the raging crowd?
Except, they weren’t really raging, they were swarming. As I studied them, I realized their behavior was a distraction. It hit me like a bolt.
They were hiding something. This huge group was hiding John.
Without another thought, I barreled into the horde. They reached for me, but I slipped through their hands. My shirt tore and their fingers raked my skin, but I could feel him, just like Carson had.
Electricity buzzed inside me, zipping down my veins like lightning. I was a charge, looking to ground myself, and the only way to do that was to close the circuit that John had opened.
“John!” I screamed. The energy built, and if I didn’t get rid of it soon, it was going to overwhelm me.
Something caught me around the waist, tackling me to the ground. I kicked and twisted, but the weight held me down.
Whitney.
I heard it. John’s voice. Groans filled my ears, but his voice was in my head. “I’m coming!” I yelled.
An image flashed through my mind, and as I fought to free myself from the Controlled holding me on the ground, I realized I was seeing from John’s perspective.
If I hadn’t been holding the Controlled’s snapping face away from mine, I’d have laughed at the picture I made—feet kicking, body twisting.
No!
I could feel him, fighting for me. His energy reached for mine. Right now, he was like a bull in a pen, prowling the edges of fence and waiting for the gate to open. But each time he came too close, he got electrocuted and forced back.
But the energy keeping him from me wasn’t as strong as mine. With one last shove, I got the Controlled off me and stood.
And there he was. Swaying on his feet as he stared sightlessly in my direction. His head bobbed from side to side like he was searching for me.
He didn’t look good.
“John,” I choked.
His dark eyes were milky, and his lips were a deep purple. Bruises marred his skin, and gashes, black but bloodless, raked his face and neck.
I needed him back. The creature he was blinked, and I saw it, just a flash, but it was there. Awareness. “John!” I yelled. “I’m trying to reach you. Help me!” Taking off toward him, I barreled into Controlled, knocking them over with sheer momentum. I crashed into him, wrapping my arms around him as we tumbled to the ground. “John.”
The energy I’d been holding burst out of me in a thousand directions while the storm that Isaiah had been threatening exploded over our heads. Lightning flashed and crashed into a nearby tree. I smelled fire and ozone and then it struck again, inches from my face. The grass sizzled as I burrowed my head against John’s neck.
I’m here! His energy touched mine, and I jolted like I’d been hit with a billion volts. The circuit between us sizzled, yellow and hot like the sun.
“Whitney.” I shut my eyes, afraid finding him was a dream. Afraid his voice was a dream. “Whitney. I choose you. I choose this.”
Suddenly we were back in the clearing where I’d had the first dream. I could remember it all clearly. But it was just John and me. His eyes pleaded with me. “Take me back, Whit.”
“You can be free without me. As you were before I ever came into the picture. All I want is your freedom. It doesn’t have to be me.”
He shook his head. “I chose you then, I choose you now. Please. Pick me back. I’m an ass. I’ll fuck up again. I can promise you that, but I’ll never let go again. Take me back. Even freedom without you and the guys is just emptiness and endless days. Please, take me back home. That’s what I need.”
I took his cheeks in my hands. “Come home, John.”
Clack. Like an electrical bolt in my head John reattached to our circle. I was thrown back into the present, strong hands—John’s—hoisting me off the ground and throwing me over his shoulder. It wasn’t exactly the stuff of fairytales, but it worked just the same. Dante was there, throwing the crowd away, tossing a person while Nick grabbed John’s hand and tugged us into the car.
Isaiah jumped in, leaving Carson, Dante, and Brandon in the other vehicle. Carson honked the horn and took off. We followed.
I panted and darkness threatened the edges of my vision. John’s hand was on my back, steady, rejoining us second by second. It was going to take time, and to properly feed him I was probably going under.
“Isaiah, thanks for the jolt, thanks for the storm.”
He shook his head. “What do you mean?”
“Haven’t you figured it out yet?” I took his hand in mine, showing him th
e edges of his fingers, blue with electricity. “If we’ve all got something, you bring the storms. Storm master.”
His mouth fell open. “I…”
“Can’t even deny it.” I dropped his hand. Holding anything was too much energy. I leaned back on John’s lap. “Missed you.”
He leaned over to kiss my forehead. “So fucking much.”
The world officially went away.
35
Nick
All three of my passengers were out cold in the backseat, practically twisted up in each other. I didn’t mind even if it was a little bit like I was the chauffeur hauling them around. Every time we uncovered a layer, another one showed up. Whitney could psychically link us. Dante ran tests on psychics. Isaiah could control electrical storm energy. Carson knew things—he just knew them. I would put money on Brandon having something weird going on. But me? I was just plain old Nick. How had I ended up here?
I’d always hated being alone with my thoughts, and there was something about having a car full of people that made me feel lonelier than if I was by myself.
Whatever had happened when John rejoined us had filled me up with nervous energy. It took all my focus to keep my eyes on the trail in front of me. I found myself gazing in the rearview mirror, shifting my weight and cracking my neck.
In my chest, my heart beat rapidly and a trail of sweat ran into my eyes.
I rolled down the window, but the air was heavy. Isaiah’s storm. I chuckled at Whitney’s name for him: Storm Master. I was going to call him that for the rest of his life.
Actually—maybe I’d call him Stormy. Like a horse. I liked that even better. In my head, I added an “ie” to the name because somehow that seemed like it would bug him.
Stormie, it was.
Controlling the weather was pretty fucking awesome. Okay—so maybe my least favorite superhero controlled the weather, and was a chick, but to be able to do it in real life? Pretty badass.
And Carson was a psychic.
The brake lights of his SUV lit in front of me, and I tried to connect with him. Carson. Caaaaarsooon. CARSON!
Lightning Strikes: A Reverse Harem Paranormal Romance (The Storm Book 1) Page 19