by Lin Lustig
John swallowed hard. If the music had been any softer she was sure he'd have heard the nervous way her heart thudded. She wished he wouldn't stand so close. If he wanted, he could try and stop her with brute force, but she'd win in the end. Injured, perhaps, since her body wasn't built for brawling, but her heart and mind would strip him bare and do far more damage than a few scrapes.
He licked his lips and then words burst from him in a rush. “I don't want the woman I love to become any more of a cold-blooded killer.” Under the mask, Licia caught a touch of pink working into his neck and ears. She could taste the undercurrent of sweetness with him, but it wasn’t as sickly as it used to be.
A flicker of memory nudged at the back of her mind, but she willed it away. Unlike a forced vision, she didn't have to see that one if she didn't want to. Instead she looked him straight in the eye and said the only thing she knew would make a difference. “You idiot. I do this because I love you, too. I have for a long time.” She grabbed his wrist, bare fingers to skin. She let down her walls and imagined her emotions overflowing down her arm and into him—only him. Stunned shock would do. She only needed a few minutes to find Aubrey and take her out.
No one else in the immediate area reacted. No one else stood in a stunned silence. It worked? She grinned, then stroked her thumb across his wrist. She hated admitting how she felt. Not that it changed anything, but to use it against him felt heartless, even for her.
Up on her tippy toes, she kissed the soft hollow of where his neck and clavicle met—the only part of him she could reach. Then she spun away and resumed tracking her prey.
CHAPTER 48
John
She... she loved him? His heart raced, matching his shallow, rapid breaths. He was caught between terror and wonder. The emotions were his, except they were more. She'd pushed them past his edge so now he could only stare in fascinated horror as her words hit him. Jolts of unsure tingles ran up the back of his legs, but his stomach flopped back and forth. What the hell did he do with this kind of information?
Yes, he loved her, but it was different now. His heart was full of Emerson, so why did he want to run after her? Her voice replayed over and over; I love you, too. He couldn't let her destroy herself. Killing in self-defense was one thing, but killing Aubrey was straight murder.
The shock ebbed and his thoughts slowed, no longer churning like a hamster in an endless wheel. He could really use that drink now.
Except everyone seemed so close. They pressed in, the distance between him and the bar impossibly small. Pressure flashed behind his eyes. Shit. Not here. Not again.
His vision went white.
John barged into his wife's office. Licia stood on the near side of the desk, arms raised in surrender as Aubrey pointed her pistol at Licia's heart.
“Stop!” John hiked Azami higher, making sure she was solidly behind him. She squeaked a little, clutching her thin thighs against his waist. Both Aubrey and Licia jerked their gaze towards him. He spoke to Licia. “Don't kill her.”
Aubrey waved the gun a little. “Shouldn't you be saying that to me?”
“Get Azami out of here. I've got this,” Licia said.
“It doesn't have to be this way. We can call the authorities, turn her in, shut this whole thing down.” He raised a free hand towards Licia. She didn't move, but he felt her power snake through the room. The oppressive feel of her will made his knees weaken. He shook under Azami's weight. Aubrey sucked in a tight breath.
“Some people need to be permanently removed,” Licia said.
“That's not for you to decide.”
“Then who is? A jury? A judge? They are all imperfect people, too, but I can feel her heart. The darkness writhing within. She feels no remorse, not unless...” Licia tilted her head a fraction, her focus tight on his wife.
Aubrey started to shake, the gun lowering to her side, which made John recoil. He could feel the shame of his past try and rear up, but he was getting better at knowing the difference between his own emotions, and the ones Licia imparted. He kept the guilt and shame at bay. Barely.
“What if there's another way?” he said.
Licia almost growled, her impatience feeding down her slithering tendrils of empathy to lick at him. “Leave,” she said. “I don't want to be your sidekick or whatever you're trying to make me into. You're nothing to me, and when I finish this, I'm gone.” Her gaze stayed on Aubrey like an owl ready to swallow a mouse whole.
He lowered Azami onto a nearby chair. “I can't stop you, you know that, but you're lonely. You need people in your life that aren't your lackeys. You said we'd be partners.”
“Stop talking,” Licia's voice was thick with threat and she didn't turn around, but still Aubrey lived, so he kept going.
“I think you want to hear it. I think you need to hear it. I love you,” he said the words as calmly as he felt whenever she was near. She finally turned to face him. “You know how I've felt for a while now. You must have. That's why you pushed to get this over with, right? Because of how I feel. Because of what it means. You're not lost, and you don't owe me anything. I love you without expectation of anything in return. All I want is to keep you from taking another life.”
Licia swallowed, tried to speak, then took a shuddering breath and tried again. “She'll hurt people again. Us. I can feel it, like something is missing inside her.”
He stepped closer, sensing the scales had tipped. “Then give it to her. Make her whole.”
Her brow creased. Those cloudy blue eyes seemed to clear as she met his gaze and tears filled her lower lids. She spun back towards Aubrey. Licia stilled to the point John couldn't even tell if she was breathing. Aubrey's soft breath silenced, and she stared at Licia with an unblinking intensity.
He didn't want to watch her die. He'd seen a shattered skull already; he didn't need to be imprinted with another image like that. Not Aubrey's. She didn't fit, but she wasn't evil. No one ever really was. She'd showed him kindness in her own way, took care of him, lifted him up. But he couldn't stop Licia. He was fucking helpless.
Lashing emotions ricocheted around the room. John thoughts didn’t make sense anymore. He fell to his knees. Then, Aubrey crumpled to the ground in a heap. He started towards her, but she covered her face and wailed. The hurricane of emotions in him slowed, allowing his thoughts to steady. Soft crying came from behind him, drowned out by Aubrey’s keening cry that pierced his ears like an arrow. It was horrible. Tears leaped to his eyes as he watched her coil inward like she expected to be gutted.
He checked Azami, but though her tears were quieter, she seemed shocked by the whole ordeal. They needed to get her out of here, but as he turned back to Licia, she released a shuddering breath and half-collapsed against Aubrey's desk.
“It won't last.” Licia glanced at John over her shoulder, beads of sweat gathered on her brow and she lost the clarity that her eyes had held before. He went to her without thinking, without knowing if she'd allow him so close, but when he guided her to lean on him, she didn’t fight. He wasn't sure she could in this state.
“I'll call the police.”
“I can't be here when they arrive.”
“Neither can Azami. Take her to Glen's. I'll deal with the rest.”
“Okay, I just... give me a second.” Licia clutched at him, her breath hard and labored. When her breath steadied, she pushed away, standing on her own, and then stepping towards Azami. “I'll go find another wheelchair.”
Azami shook her head. “I want to walk. Please.”
Licia extended her hand, which Azami took to stand. He couldn't tell who was leaning on whom. Licia gave him one last look, something in her somber expression making his chest ache. Then she was gone.
He sat on the floor next to Aubrey. She rocked a little back and forth, but her horrible cries ended, leaving her with a distant stare and a constant river of tears running down her cheeks. Moving slowly, he stroked her hair. She leaned into the touch and he opened his arms to her. As she cudd
led into his chest and silently cried, he called the police.
John's awareness snapped back to the gala, the music pounding through his chest and the smell of fresh bread clearing out the leftover scent of rubbing alcohol from the memory.
He spotted Henry watching, but waved him down just in case he was thinking of checking in on him.
Then the music cut off and the screech of a mic quieted the room. The crowd’s attention turned towards CEO Milo Kostas, silver haired and in an expensive suit, taking center stage. He had a mask with a long handle, which he lowered as he came to the microphone.
“Thank you all for joining us tonight at our eighth annual Halloween gala. Hopefully you've found some auction items to bid on. All proceeds go towards our research into helping the Abnormal population.” His grin looked plastic: teeth too white, cheeks too plastered in place, but the crowd still gave him enthusiastic applause. John wove through the clusters of attendees taking seats at round tables. He had to find Licia and drag her out of here without people noticing.
Kostas paused until the applause cooled down, he smoothed his suit jacket and then said, “A special thank you to the General Assembly of Natural Faith for exceeding our fundraising goals. With their contribution, we'll be able to begin production of Jammer supplements to help aid the families and victims of aberrant genetic anomalies.” More applause. His smile didn't falter. “There's been a lot of speculation, and even some opposition, to our mission, but tonight we'd like to share with you the people who have made this all possible.”
John stopped with a pulse of dread. No, they had no reason to bring him up as an original co-founder—stop being ridiculous. As he scanned the room, he caught Prisha's eye. She waved from a circular table, her free hand blocking an empty seat for him. Shit. He couldn't keep wandering the ballroom as everyone sat for appetizers and the presentation. Keeping his eyes trained for any sign of Licia, he joined Prisha.
“Get lost?” She perched in her seat like a bird about to take flight.
“Just listening around for interesting snippets.” It was better she thought he was eavesdropping to gain an edge than trying to stop a murderer from taking out the wife Prish didn’t know he had.
Just as a silver bowl of bread rolls arrived, he spotted another familiar figure. Slight build, with curly red hair, but a mask covered her nose and upper face. Still, it could be Aubrey. He noted her Mardi Gras costume and kept a portion of his attention on her while searching for Licia and listening to Kostas tell a joke.
When the polite chuckling silenced, Kostas said, “Tonight has turned into a celebration thanks to the generous donations of the General Assembly. Because of them, we'll be able to help people. But they aren't the only ones we couldn't have done this without. Our volunteers have made everything possible. We'd like to share a special tribute to their hard work and sacrifice.” The backdrop curtain drew back to display a large screen with the image of a smiling young man. He was familiar from the clip Kostas had played when he’d outed them. The young man had shocked the nurses through skin-to-skin contact. His name and birthday to death date were listed with in memoriam scrawled elegantly across the bottom.
Another picture flashed a familiar face. John lurched to his feet as Azami's gentle smile shone out over them all. Prisha yanked him down.
“What are you doing?” She asked, but he ignored her.
Kostas said, “This lovely woman is Azami Hisakawa. Our missing angel. Thanks to her ability, we're that much closer to finding a cure for cancer. We hope she returns to us so we can finish our work.” Another photo, a man with a flat, wide nose, and more freckles than Licia. He didn't look familiar. Maybe he was the other patient the Jammers were based from. “Hunter Fink, who helped us understand the connection between our adult patients and the same abnormalities in children.” The image of Hunter was replaced with Toby Marquah from the press release, who received only a thanks for allowing them to basically save his life. Everything Kostas said was self-serving and saccharin, making John fidget in his seat. What if they went back further... what if John's face was next?
The image of a shining young girl with playful thick hair sticking out at odd angles replaced Toby—introduced as Tarrah West. Across the room a shadow jerked alive. John zeroed in on the movement, finding Licia now prowling the stage edge, looking for a way through the security. Seemed her focus on finding Aubrey was temporarily disrupted.
“Without our volunteers, none of this would be possible.” Kostas clapped until the room joined in. “Nor would it be possible without Aubrey Benson, head of our medical department specializing in abnormal genetics. Aubrey, please take a bow.”
Hesitantly the woman in Mardi Gras attire stood, did a half-bow, half-curtsy followed by a little wave. John's attention split between Aubrey and Licia, but Licia seemed to have stilled, oscillating between Kostas on stage and Aubrey in the audience. John couldn't feel any tendrils of her power—yet.
He couldn't think of what Licia had said. What she'd admitted. Even if it was real, it didn't change anything. He would always love her, he knew that, but he wasn't sure he could trust her feelings. Was that why she'd listened to him? Hell, why she tolerated him?
Kostas continued with naming off others at UHP, then moved on to the honored guests of GANF there tonight.
“I'm going to use the restroom,” he whispered to Prisha. Her mask covered most of her expression, but her eyes were curious enough. He'd have to explain why he was so distracted later, but right now all he could think about was getting Licia the fuck out of here before she decided which way to swing. As servers dotted the floor delivering trays to each table, the extra movement gave John the cover he needed to cross the room and approach her. She saw him coming, their eyes meeting briefly across three tables, then she flicked her gaze to Aubrey and changed direction. Decision made. Fuck.
John dashed around servers and rushed towards Aubrey. A laden cart of coffee rolled in front of Licia, stalling her long enough for John to leap ahead. He put his back to Aubrey and stared at Licia, acting as a physical blockade. When the cart rolled away, Licia stayed, her icy eyes trained on him unblinking.
Let-me-have-her, her ducked chin and fisted hands implied.
John widened his stance. He couldn't allow that.
Her gaze narrowed. Move-or-I'll-move-you-by-force.
Not a glare he was comfortable receiving from her, but he stood his ground and tipped up his chin. An invite. He knew it was stupid to block Licia, but he had to protect her. Both hers.
When Licia leaned in, her foot picking up to step closer, John spun to Aubrey and grabbed her shoulder. She jumped and faced him.
“Mrs. Benson, mind if I have a word? It's about your husband.”
“My...” She trailed off, her eyes raking his body up and down until recognition made her mouth form a pert little O. “Excuse me,” she offered to her tablemates and allowed John to steer her away. He couldn't think about what he was doing or what he'd say, but he kept his back towards Licia, or at least where she'd been a moment before. She could be anywhere now.
They merged into the main flow of servers and attendees moving back and forth along a corridor that led both to the stage on one end and to the restrooms along the other. It was hard to not compare this to the night they’d first met, and the tryst that started them both on this path.
Once behind the areas marked off for stage use, John stepped behind thick curtains and pulled Aubrey along. He glanced out for Henry but didn’t see him. Hopefully, he’d take a few minutes to realize John wasn’t at his table.
“I knew you'd come back to me.” Aubrey's voice held as much emotion as ever, which was minimal. Still, her bit of inflection betrayed true intrigue.
“Yes, for these,” he whipped out the papers, thrusting them towards her. Seeing her like this, close and unguarded, felt wrong. Her costume highlighted her long shapely legs but couldn't downplay her sharp chin and oversized joints. Standing in her presence felt more like a betrayal to Emerso
n than any woman he'd ever flirted or slept with, even though they'd planned this. She was a sticky film he couldn't wait to wash off. These papers would wash her away from his life for good.
“Divorce papers.” She thumbed through the stapled mass, no grin or frown, just placid understanding. “I'll sign these if you return to UHP. We have a couple subjects now, but we need someone like them on our team. A liaison of sorts.”
He was so outraged he forgot about the gala around him. “Come back? You're torturing people.” His accusation didn’t stir her at all. She tipped her head a little, her gaze flowing over him. Absurdly, he wanted to cover up.
“We're helping them.” She rubbed a bit of her cheek below the seam of her colorful mask, her attention drifting from the papers to the crowd beyond the curtain, unconcerned.
“You're killing them.”
“We've only had one death and he did that to himself. There have been no staff or patient deaths since I rejoined the team.”
It felt like a serpent coiled in John's belly, begging to strike at Aubrey for everything she'd done. She was twisted and wrong and... and the woman that had given him everything. Rage warred with his guilt, incited by a familiar, uncoiling surge of power. He sucked in a breath.
Licia marched towards them, her eyes so focused on Aubrey that she knocked into one of the nearby security sentinels. John gritted his teeth and breathed through the rage, losing track of how Aubrey replied. He nudged her aside, trying to force her back.
“You're so unusual after all these years,” she said in her cool, detached voice, studying him. Then she saw Licia. Aubrey sized her up, too, then stepped closer. Licia stumbled to a stop as she met Aubrey’s unwavering gaze. Shit. He had to cover this. He hoped Aubrey wouldn't recognize her. If she connected Licia as the woman who took her down years ago, she'd hunt Licia until the end.