I walked back to the kitchen, and Thirteen turned to me and smiled. “Not a lot to it, but it’s safe and it’s yours.”
“For now,” Banks added with a sideways glance at Thirteen.
I took the key from Thirteen. “Who else has a key?”
He thought about that a minute. “Jon and Theo each have one. They’ve met informants here in the past.”
“Do you have a key?” I asked Banks pointedly.
He narrowed his gaze but said nothing.
Thirteen said, “If you have a key, please give it to her. This is her home now. It would be an invasion of privacy for anyone else to have unfettered access.”
Without taking his eyes from me, Banks reached into his back pocket and pulled out a large circle key ring with more keys than I could count. How in the hell did he ever sit comfortably with a wad of metal like that in his back pocket?
He moved his fingers swiftly, counting off the keys until he found the right one, then unwound it from the ring.
“Someone else should have a key. A backup,” he growled, and slapped the key to my palm. Then he tromped loudly down the corridor from the kitchen and out the back door. The door slammed shut, shaking the cabinet doors.
“If he’d just said he was keeping his key as a backup I would have understood,” I admitted to Thirteen. Wouldn’t have stopped me from making him hand it over, but I’d have understood his reasoning. “But what the hell was that all about?”
Thirteen’s eyes were still on the back door. “With Network members missing, Banks is worried for me, that’s all.”
But there was more he wasn’t saying, and I’d been trying to be less intrusive with Banks and Thirteen in the last couple of weeks. Maybe I needed to rethink that approach.
“I’ll try to arrive a little early tomorrow evening. The others were shaken this afternoon, but I know they’ll have recovered and be full of questions by the time we meet again. Also, I wanted you to have a bit of time here by yourself. Get to know the place. Get as comfortable as possible before we really begin. Did you see the security monitors in the back?”
“Yeah, I saw them.”
“Good. I know I haven’t given you a lot of time to get things the way you like, but hopefully it will be enough.”
Thirteen looked down at me then, and his face softened. His daughter flashed in his mind. A decade younger than me, she’d only been twelve when Thirteen’s enemies had killed her to get to him. It always made my chest swell with emotion whenever he looked at me and saw her.
“I know the place isn’t much,” he said finally, “but it is, for all practical purposes, yours.”
I could be suspicious of everyone else, but Thirteen’s motivations rang true for me. He wanted me to feel what the freedom of living here meant. To spread my wings and enjoy my first real taste of independence.
Eighteen seconds. That’s how long it took to walk from the front door to the back door of my farmhouse, hitting every room on the way. It had once taken me more than twelve minutes to go from one end of the estate’s main house to the other.
I sat at the kitchen table and looked around. The sun was finally setting and shadows were growing longer. I liked that. For so long, I’d lived in the shadows. Or at least tried to.
The far corner of the estate’s navy guest room had always had the best shadow. No one had ever thought to look for me there because it was basically out in the open. No furniture or draperies to hide behind—just darkness. That’s what made it perfect.
I took a long, slow swallow of whiskey and shut my eyes.
I was back in that room, hearing the footsteps tiptoeing down the hall, trying to sneak up on me. I knew they’d be coming. Their thoughts always gave them away.
I rolled out of the bed and silently moved into the dark corner. I slept in a different guest room every night, but they always found me. They were outside the door now. Malcolm and Markus. At least it wasn’t Father again. My ribs still ached after his little session with me the night before. He didn’t let the boys watch because it disgusted him to see how they reacted to me now that I was a teenager. But by keeping them away last night, he had guaranteed a visit this morning.
The door creaked open and light from the hallway spilled in behind them, keeping their faces dark.
“Do you see her?” Markus whispered.
“Shut up!” Malcolm hissed, then tried to shut the door. Markus pushed past him until he was all the way in the room. Malcolm growled.
I stood statue-still, not even breathing. Their matching blue eyes strained as they searched the room. Markus was growing his brown hair long, but it still wasn’t to the length of Malcolm’s dark blond. He didn’t have Malcolm’s bulk yet either, but it didn’t matter.
Their senses weren’t as good as mine. They could turn on the lights or open the drapes and find me standing there, but the search was part of the thrill. At least for Malcolm.
“She’s not in here,” Markus said. Then he picked up a silver letter opener from the desk next to the door. He examined it for a minute then slipped it in his pocket. Damn it. I hadn’t seen it there. Now he was armed.
“Oh, she’s here all right,” Malcolm purred, then he called out in a deep, sing-song voice, “Come out, come out, wherever you are.”
Markus chuckled, but it was more nervousness than amusement. Markus was scared of me. He was scared of everyone.
Malcolm snuck around the side of the bed. I would have made a run for it except Markus was still by the door. He wasn’t as powerful and certainly wasn’t as into this game as Malcolm, but he’d try to take me down if I got too close.
Malcolm leaned back on the bed but kept one foot on the floor. “How about this,” he said as he fluffed the pillows behind his head. “I’ll give you to the count of three. If you don’t show yourself, we’ll turn on the light. Not even you can hide from the light.”
Actually, I could. I could go completely invisible now. But for some reason, I didn’t want anyone to know that yet. And Malcolm’s game wasn’t enough of a threat to give away my new secret.
“One…two…last chance…”
I didn’t move.
“Three.”
Markus flipped on the light and I squinted into the sudden glare. My eyes had barely adjusted and Malcolm was there. His body slammed me against the wall. His hands immediately went to my chest, his mouth to my neck. He sucked in the skin between his teeth and squeezed at my breasts hard enough that I cried out. The next moment he was flying backward. He slammed against the armoire on the far side of the room, breaking it with a loud crack.
I crouched and turned to Markus. His eyes were wide, the letter opener clutched so tight in his hand his knuckles were white. I didn’t wait for his attack. I sent him backward so hard and fast that when he hit the door it broke from its hinges.
Then Malcolm was back, looming over me. He stood just far enough away that I couldn’t reach him without stepping closer. His power bit along my skin, reminding me how much stronger he was becoming. I wouldn’t be able to fling him across the room again. His eyes were dark and his thoughts swirled with images of what he wanted to do to me. He smiled and wiped the blood trickling from his mouth with a piece of cloth. A piece of my shirt. I suddenly felt the sting of scratches across my chest where he had clung to my nightshirt when I sent him flying. Shit. This was all foreplay to him.
Suddenly the bedroom door shattered. We both jumped. I shielded myself from the debris then was instantly pinned against the wall by an invisible force. From the corner of my eye, I could see Malcolm facing the door, standing at attention.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Father roared from the bedroom door. He came into the room, stepping over Markus as if he were a stain on the floor. A frustrated glint twinkled in Malcolm’s eye. He wouldn’t get to finish his game, but at least I’d be punished for his fun.
I closed my eyes as Father moved across the room. A slap against Malcolm’s face made me flinch. Then his ho
t breath was on me. The muscles around my ribcage clenched as if they knew they’d never get the chance to heal before being broken again.
“Looking for attention again, Magnolia?” he hissed, spittle hitting my cheek as he spoke. “Well, I can give you all the attention you need.”
I shook myself back into the farmhouse’s kitchen. My pulse slowed and I took another drink. Thirteen had wanted me to have freedom here, but until this moment, I hadn’t really known what that meant. He didn’t want me running all over town by myself—he was still too worried about my safety for that—but he wanted me to feel the freedom of not being on guard every minute of every day.
Those people from the meeting today didn’t think like my brothers. I realized now that I had expected them to. In their thoughts I hadn’t found any of the malice or deep hatred that coated Malcolm’s mind. Or the fear and anger that haunted Markus. Instead, their thoughts were like Thirteen’s—intelligent, aggressive, concerned.
I remembered the way Chang had nearly passed out at the sight of me. And the way Theo had looked at me during our strange moment before I left. Even their lusty reactions to me weren’t as repulsive as my brothers’.
By the time I finished my drink, locked the front and back doors, and went back into the bedroom, it was almost dark. I pulled on a T-shirt and slipped into the bed. My bed. My room. My house. No one was going to hurt me here. No one was even going to try. I repeated the words over and over until I finally fell asleep.
The next morning, I went for a walk. The morning air was fresh with dew. As I wandered through the woods around the farmhouse I thought of Uncle Mallroy. He loved mornings like this. The stillness, the gray landscape. He’d always gotten so upset if someone dared interrupt his morning commune with nature. For once, I understood the feeling.
“You know, it’s not polite to follow people,” I called out.
Thirteen chuckled. He pushed the branches away and walked to the edge of the woods beside me.
“You’re right,” he said. “And I apologize. I was just anxious to see you. Did you sleep OK?”
I shrugged. “Well enough.”
“Are you ready for this evening’s meeting?”
“Yeah, about that—I’ve been thinking about something you told me a while ago. You said that Network membership is anonymous. But all those people yesterday already knew each other. I thought this special task force was a new thing.”
“The task force is new, but the agents I’ve chosen are experienced. They’ve worked on previous missions and have crossed paths with one another before. Also, yesterday’s meeting wasn’t the first the task force has had. It was just the first you’ve attended.”
“I don’t know why you don’t just list out an employee directory anyway. Seems to me it would be easier if everyone knew who everyone was.”
“Everyone knows who is on their assigned team,” he explained with a hint of annoyance. “That’s all they need to know. The people we track have supernatural abilities, Magnolia, and are extremely dangerous. If the Network or our members became public knowledge…”
“Covers blown, danger to agents’ families, blah, blah, blah—I remember the conversation.”
He shook his head at me and sighed. “You really surprised them yesterday. Your powers, your aura—they’ve never seen anything like you.” He hesitated. “I think every single one of them called me last night, bombarding me with questions about you.” He cleared his throat. “I filled them in as best I could, but some things you’ll have to answer yourself. If you’re comfortable doing so.”
I ground my teeth. “I thought we were past the evasiveness, Thirteen. If you want to know something, just ask.”
He stepped in front of me, his wide frame blocking out the rising sun. “Why you, Magnolia?” he asked quietly. “Everyone in your family has powers. Why were you the only one they tortured?”
Humiliation sat coldly in my chest, chilling me with the truth. “No one has powers like mine. I can’t die. No matter what they did, no matter how hard they tried, I always lived.”
He lifted his head in understanding. “You were their first failure.”
“I am their only failure.”
I stepped past him to look out over the open cornfield. Brown and full of weeds, completely unused, forgotten. Each dead bush, each overgrown vine—all further proof that this was not the estate. That I was still free.
“Thank you,” he said softly, “for helping us the way you are.”
“It’s just information. You guys already know a lot. I’m just filling in the holes.” At least that’s what I’d been telling myself.
“You’re helping. It won’t be easy talking about your family, but knowing what we are up against will be invaluable when the time comes to bring down one of your relatives.”
I stared into the field, watching as the fog slowly lifted. “I could still run away,” I murmured, not sure why I’d said the words out loud. Thirteen stiffened.
“Is that still an option you’re considering?”
I jerked another shrug.
“Then you’re not really free.”
I turned on him with a glare. “Of course I’m free. I escaped, didn’t I? I can make my own choices and go wherever I want.”
“Of course you can make your own choices. But escaping was just the first step. There is still so much fear inside of you. It’s not enough to be away from your father and uncles. As long as fear rules your decisions, you will never be truly free of your family.” He put his hands on my shoulders. “Working with this team will be another step in helping you rid yourself of that fear. You need this, Magnolia, just as much as we need you.”
I turned away from him.
A vision of Theo popped in my head. Held down in a field like this, his body drenched in sweat and blood. My father standing over him, killing him with unseen knives as Theo begged for mercy. Around them, the field was littered with the bodies of the rest of the team. My chest tightened in a painful ache. Pain pierced my side as if I were the one being stabbed. I stumbled forward. No!
The image vanished as quickly as it had appeared. What the hell? Thirteen steadied me. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. It’s nothing. I just—I was just thinking about what you said. What it might be like for your team if they tried to take down one of my relatives now. You know, without knowing what they were really up against.” I looked back at the field. Still barren, but sunlight peeked through the clouds now, brightening the gray. “It was nothing.”
Nothing except my option of leaving evaporating with the fog.
He watched me closely for a moment then said, “Come on,” and indicated the direction of the farmhouse. “I’ll walk you back.” I stepped up beside him and together we made our way back through the woods.
What I felt for Thirteen was strong, but he had earned my trust and concern by keeping my presence secret all these months. He’d helped me acclimate to my freedom, taught me the basics of daily life like grocery shopping and debit cards. Theo had done nothing but sit there. And yet, the need to know everything about him was almost overwhelming. I wanted to touch him, to get in his mind and know what aggravated him or made him laugh. What was important to him. What he hated. What he loved. Had Theo done something to me? He must have a power I’d never heard of before or something. The way I felt when I looked at him, the utter terror I’d experienced at the mere thought of him being tortured by my family…
We stepped into the clearing just before the farmhouse and I realized I was hugging myself. I dropped my arms to my sides. Screw this. Whatever he’d done to make me care so much, I was stronger. I had control over my feelings just as much as I had control over my powers. And I’d be damned if I let what I felt for him distract me again.
It was still early in the evening when the sliding, crunching sound of cars on gravel came from outside. One of the hidden security monitors in the bedroom beeped twice. I grabbed my whiskey and waited in the kitchen.
A single beep sounded when footsteps hit the front porch. Everything was quiet for a minute, then they knocked.
“It’s open.”
They entered the kitchen in a single-file line. It was everyone from the meeting, minus Chang. Each one of them stared me down as they silently flowed into the cramped kitchen. Those who sat down did so in exactly the same order they had in the Thirsty Turtle’s conference room.
Their faces were practiced blanks, every one of them completely devoid of expression. Good. They were tough, not dwelling on the trauma of my memory. They might actually be able to handle what I was going to tell them.
“Where is Thirteen?” Shane asked. He sat in one of the seats across from me, his thick arms crossed over his chest, his long blond hair hanging in his eyes. When I turned to him, his expression wavered, a flash of anger peeking through. He was seriously pissed off at me but his thoughts weren’t giving specifics as to why.
“He and Banks are picking up some food,” I answered. “They’ll be here any minute.”
And thank God for that.
Not that the room’s awkwardness bothered me, but there was absolutely no food in the house. And I was starving. In fact, besides toilet paper, there were hardly any of the essentials. I’d brought my own whiskey, but with only two bottles left, even that was in short supply.
That reminded me. “Does, um, anyone want a drink?”
As soon as I spoke, I winced. What the hell could I offer them? Whiskey or water? And were there even enough glasses for everybody? Shit. My cheeks started to burn. I must look ridiculous.
“We’re fine,” Jon said. Then he forced a “Thank you.”
I shrugged and took another drink. It was a strange silence, what with all of them staring at me, trying to be intimidating. I glanced across the table to Charles. He’d spent most of the day at the ER getting pins put in his broken hand. The cast was so huge his fingers weren’t even exposed.
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