“Not a power,” I explain. “Mom developed a serum.”
His brows twist with confusion, like what I’m saying doesn’t make sense.
“I get weekly shots.” Memory intrudes, and I correct, “Well, I got weekly shots. Mom keeps the formula top secret. She was making another batch, but…”
I stop, figuring I won’t have to spell it out for him. Draven is still. He doesn’t seem to be impressed or freaked out, relieved or concerned. He’s just…blank.
I close my eyes and my head droops. I’ve just confessed to the biggest crime in the super world. I’ve admitted that I’m a useless, powerless ordinary.
I should have expected this response. After all, superheroes turn down their noses at me for not inheriting my father’s amazing powers. But I wanted to believe that Draven was different. Wanted to believe he wouldn’t care.
I don’t know why it matters so much—to him or to me. I’m still the same person I’ve always been.
But it does matter. Another glance at Draven proves that.
Fine. Whatever. I’m not waiting around for his disappointment or—worse—his disgust to surface. I push out of my seat.
A warm hand wraps around my wrist and pulls me back.
Our eyes meet for a split second before his mouth is on mine.
I can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t do anything but feel.
The pressure of his lips.
The sparks along my nerve endings.
The sizzle of his touch.
His right hand cups my cheek, his fingers tangling in my hair as he sweeps his tongue along the seam of my lips. The stress I’ve been bottling up releases, and I sink into him. All I want is to stay right here with Draven, forever.
I stroke my hands up his arms, over his neck, across the rough stubble along his jaw. Then my fingers tangle in the cool silk of his hair, tugging at him. Closer, closer, closer.
He slips his right arm around my waist and presses his hand on my lower back until we’re flush against one another. All I can feel is the heat and strength of his body against my own.
We’re chest to chest, hip to hip, skin to skin, and still I want to be closer. Still I want to fall deeper into him—all the way into him.
Draven growls low in his throat and nips at my lower lip. He shifts against me. I hold tight, but he pushes me away, holding me at arm’s length when all I want is to burrow into him again. We stare at each other. I can’t catch my breath.
I want to lift my fingers to my lips, to see if they are as hot as they feel, but Draven has my arm in his iron grip. When I look down, he’s holding the spot that got burned by Nitro’s fireball.
Only it’s not burned. The pale skin looks perfect.
My gaze flies back to Draven. “What—?”
“Biomanipulation.” He releases my arm, dropping his hand to his thigh.
I look from him to my miraculously healed arm and back again. “Your second power,” I say, pointing out the obvious. “You can heal?”
He nods. “Among other things.”
Right. Other things. Like whatever he did to the guards in the lab tonight. He was doing something to their bodies from the inside out.
I keep running my hand over my arm, expecting the burn and blisters to return. But they’re gone, and I am totally overwhelmed. Who were Draven’s parents that he has powers like this? Mind control is rare—and one of the most potent powers out there. But biomanipulation? The ability to heal—or destroy—on a cellular level? Maybe even on a genetic level? Only a couple supers in the world have a power like that.
His eyes are guarded, as if he expects me to freak out or recoil in fear. But he didn’t turn away from me when I confessed to being powerless. Nothing in the world could make me turn from him right now.
If I’ve learned anything from the last few days, it’s that the power is not what makes someone bad or dangerous—it’s the person who wields the power. Draven and I may go toe to toe on pretty much everything, but he’s not a bad guy. In fact, he’s one of the strongest, fiercest, most genuine people I’ve ever known.
I lean forward and press a soft kiss to his lips.
“Thank you,” I say, and it’s for a lot more than healing my arm.
Draven smiles, then nods toward the low rock wall where the rest of the team has assembled. “We’d better get out there.”
He sounds cool, in control, but I see the way his hands tremble before he shoves them into his pockets. The knowledge that he’s as affected as I am makes me feel okay about my own vulnerabilities. My own shaking knees.
Draven climbs out first, then reaches up to help me down. When I’m on the ground, he doesn’t release my hand. Instead, he laces our fingers together, his thumb gently stroking the back of my hand.
Of all the times to start falling for a guy, in the middle of this mess is pretty much the worst possible option. One star-crossed relationship in the team is more than enough. This is only going to make things that much more complicated.
And yet, I can’t bring myself to care.
As we approach the group, Jeremy and Nitro are involved in some kind of heated debate, while Rebel and Dante are wrapped so tightly together that I can’t tell where one ends and the other begins. My best friend glances at us, takes one look at our joined hands, and raises a curious eyebrow.
I ignore her.
“You’re a complete cock-up!” Nitro yells.
“It’s not my fault. Once the guard initiated the lockdown protocol, I was shut out of the entire system.” Jeremy doesn’t even glance at Nitro as he types furiously. “If you would just give me a minute….”
“We’ve given you more than a minute. What kind of hacker genius gets ’imself locked out of the system he’s trying to hack?”
“The kind,” Jeremy says, pausing while he finishes typing, “that still has access to Rex Malone’s desktop. Which means”—he spins the laptop so we can all see the screen—“we can still read his private communications.”
“Hmm,” Nitro says, leaning closer. “Maybe you’re not a total wanker after all.”
“Wanker?” Jeremy repeats, offended. “I’m a bloody genius.”
I laugh—Nitro’s obviously rubbing off on him. But it doesn’t feel like the time to point that out, especially as line after line of text scrolls across the screen. Messages—texts, emails, transcribed calls and voice mails—flying by so fast that I can’t read it all. But I do see mentions of the break-ins and three villain escapees.
“If we’re lucky,” Jeremy says, “we’ll get a clue to Lima Whiskey’s location.”
“And my mom?” I ask.
Jeremy nods.
“How will we even know?” Draven asks. “Can you read that fast?”
Jeremy laughs. “Of course not. I’m running a screen recorder and a rootkit that is specifically searching for any reference to the secret facility.”
Draven tenses and then releases my hand. “And what if we learn the location?” He runs his fingers through his hair. “What then?”
“Then we go save Deacon,” Dante says.
“And my mom,” I add. “If she’s there too.”
Draven gives me a sympathetic look. “They’re not going to hurt your mom,” he says. “She’s too important to them. But Deacon…”
Though he doesn’t say the words, we can all fill in the blanks. The odds that Deacon is still alive, that he survived the torture and was transported to the new facility, are pretty slim. Just because he wasn’t in any of the body bags we saw doesn’t mean…. My stomach pitches at the unfinished thought.
Dante obviously believes otherwise. “Deacon is alive.”
“You don’t know that,” Draven argues.
“I do. He’s my twin. If he were…” His voice cracks and Rebel gives him a squeeze.
Dante recovers, shaking off
his emotion. “I would feel it. In here.” He smacks a fist to his chest. “I know he’s still alive.”
“It doesn’t matter if he is,” Jeremy says.
“The hell it doesn’t!” Draven shouts.
“What I mean,” my ex says, “is that what Malone and the hero leadership are doing is tantamount to villain genocide. The six of us are the only ones who know what’s going on.”
“He’s right,” I say.
Rebel looks at me like I have gone insane.
“No matter what happens, we can’t just walk away. Not from this. Even if it’s too late for Mom or Deacon,” I explain. “There are others. And if we don’t stop it, there will be a lot more. We can’t just pretend we don’t know what’s happening. We have to do something.”
“Damn straight,” Nitro says, cheering.
“The seven dead villains we saw tonight are too high a price to pay.” My voice breaks. “And if we don’t stop this now, there will be another seven. And another seven. And another—”
I shudder at the thought of how many people the heroes might have already killed in the name of research, or whatever their excuse is. There is no way I can live with myself if even more die and I could have done something—anything—to stop it.
“Exactly,” Jeremy says. “I won’t walk away. I can’t.”
“None of us can,” Rebel agrees. “Not now. Not from this.”
They nod, faces solemn and eyes coolly determined. That’s when I realize that the villains never planned to just walk away after finding Deacon. He’s not their only goal. Even if Rebel, Jeremy, and I never thought beyond rescuing him and my mom, Dante, Draven, and Nitro had always intended to be in this to the end. They’d always intended to end this.
“We need a new plan,” I say, fighting a yawn. Far out on the horizon, the first pink of sunrise is beginning to show. “But we’ve been up for going on forty-eight hours now. We need to go somewhere safe where we can get some rest and regroup.”
Nitro jams his hands into his pockets and glances at Draven and Deacon. “I have an idea where we could go.”
They exchange a long look, and then Draven nods. “The safe houses.”
“What, like in witness protection?” I ask.
“More like villain protection,” Nitro tells me.
I start to ask why villains need safe houses, but considering what I’ve seen, everything I now know, it doesn’t seem so far-fetched. The only thing that seems far-fetched is that the heroes have managed to keep this whole program under wraps. That they’ve managed to torture and kill villains for years—without reason and definitely without trials—and no one has been the wiser. Well, no one but the villains, and nobody was listening to them.
“We have a dozen or so houses scattered throughout town,” Draven explains. “The closest one is across from the cemetery on Ninth.”
“Then let’s go,” Jeremy says.
The others nod, and for the first time we really feel like a team. Not like a bunch of strangers with a common goal, but a real team. One that trusts and respects each other.
It’s a powerful feeling, which makes me think that maybe, just maybe, we have a chance.
We all pile back into the van, this time with Draven behind the wheel and me in the passenger seat. Two days ago I would have never thought I’d feel so comfortable in a vehicle with three villains, let alone trust them as much as I do. But a lot can change in a couple of days, especially when two days feel like two lifetimes.
As we drive back down the mountain, I start to drift. I’m locked in my thoughts and half asleep when Draven starts cursing, his voice low and calm despite the words pouring out of his mouth. The contrast is terrifying. I look up as he rolls to a stop in front of a house. In front of what used to be a house.
Now it’s just a pile of smoking rubble.
Chapter 20
“Holy shit.” Nitro presses his forehead to the van window. “They leveled it.”
“Keep moving,” Jeremy instructs. “If they destroyed this location, it’s likely that they’ll have surveillance in place.”
Draven squeals away. No one says a word as he drives on, presumably heading for another safe house. This one is razed too, as are the next six. The entire villain network has been compromised.
“They’re gone,” Dante keeps repeating. “They’re all gone. The public records are clean. There was nothing to trace those properties back to us.”
“How could they know?” Nitro demands. “Only villains knew about the safe houses.”
“How many villains have they taken over the last few weeks? How many have they tortured? Is it such a stretch to think that some of them broke under the pain?” Draven’s voice is aching. It rips my heart to shreds.
“Was anyone—?” I can’t finish the question.
“No,” Dante replies. “They should have been empty.”
“We only use them as a last resort,” Nitro adds.
Draven slams both fists against the van’s steering wheel, lost in his rage and helplessness. I want to help him find his way out, but I don’t know how.
Nobody says anything as Draven pulls into the shadowy corner of a grocery-store parking lot.
“They’ve declared war.” Draven pulls out his phone and tries calling his uncle again. Dante and Nitro are both texting people like crazy too. Desperate to find out if the empty safe houses are the only places that have been hit.
I wish I could do something, but I have no one to call. There’s no one I can trust who isn’t already in this van. But what scares me most is that the friends Dante and Nitro are calling and texting aren’t answering.
I know it’s crazy, but I try calling my house. Maybe if I wish for it enough, Mom will be home and fine. As I pull out my phone to dial, the screen flickers, then goes dark.
Stupid battery. I reach into the center console and pull Mom’s cell phone off the charger. There’s a notice on her lock screen. Two missed calls and three text messages from Dr. Harwood.
Did Kenna reach you? She sounded worried.
Where are you?
The scarlet phoenix flies at dawn.
What the hell? Dr. Harwood has always been a bit odd, but that last text is beyond weird. I don’t have the time or energy to wonder at his cryptic message.
I swipe my finger across the screen so I can call home, but despite the full charge, Mom’s phone flickers and goes dead too.
More weird.
Jeremy’s computer starts beeping. He enters a few keystrokes and curses.
“What?” I ask nervously.
“They put out an APB.” He looks up at Rebel, his face white. “Wait, no, it’s more than that. Your father has issued a new directive.”
Rebel scowls and grabs the laptop out of his hands. She reads the memo on Jeremy’s computer.
“‘Tier Red Protocol in Effect: All members of SHPD and ESF are hereby called to active duty. Report to headquarters for assignment. Use highest levels of caution. Villains to be approached with utmost prejudice.’”
“ESF?” Dante asks.
Jeremy explains, “Elite Superhero Force. They’re like the Navy SEALs, Army Rangers, and police SWAT team all rolled into one.”
Draven’s hand clenches into a fist.
That’s great. That’s just…great.
“‘Pursuit of the villains and traitors who compromised the ESH Labs facility tonight must be unrelenting,’” Rebel continues reading. “‘They are to be found and apprehended at any cost.’”
A shiver of fear skitters down my spine.
“Among the wanted are three known offenders—villains Dante Cole, Draven Cole, and Nitro Willoughby. Also on the run are villain sympathizers Kenna Swift and Rebel Malone. All are to be treated with extreme prejudice under assumption of deadly intent. All League resources will be dedicated to this manhunt u
ntil further notice. “
Rebel chokes on a sob. I reach for her hand and for something to say, but there’s nothing I can tell her that will make this better. I mean, it’s one thing to know that your dad is a genocidal asshole, but it’s another to know he’s sending elite forces to apprehend, his own daughter.
I’m still searching for the right words when the computer emits an ear-splitting beep in a sequence that sounds like old-school Morse code.
Jeremy grabs for his laptop. “No!” he shouts, typing furiously. “No, no, no.”
“What?” At this point I’m afraid to hear the answer.
“Come on, baby,” Jeremy says to his computer, “don’t do this to me. Don’t—shit!”
The laptop lets out one last beep, then goes black. Smoke puffs out from the vent in the back.
“That doesn’t look good, mate,” Nitro says.
“Thanks, Admiral Obvious. They just burned my laptop.”
“They can do that?” Dante asks.
“They can if they send enough malicious packets to overwhelm my hard drive while disabling the cooling system at the same time.” He slams the lid shut and throws the laptop carelessly into the back of the van. “Irreparable. They must have found my bug. There’s no other reason to come after me so hard.”
“So where does that leave us?” I ask.
“Screwed,” Draven and Rebel say at the same time.
“Not entirely,” Jeremy says. “They can’t have found my rootkit, not this fast, which means it’s still scanning for details about the secret location.”
“But can you access the program?” My stomach clenches.
He smiles grimly. “All I need is a secure Internet portal and a computer that doesn’t suck.”
“We’ll find you one,” Draven promises.
“First we need to ditch the van,” Dante says.
“For sure,” Nitro agrees. “They’ll be looking for it.”
“And they’ll be able to access the city closed-circuit cameras to find it,” Jeremy adds.
“If they can access cameras,” I say, “then can they see us? Wherever we go?”
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