Created (Talented Saga)

by Davis, Sophie

  I nodded. That was the best I could have hoped for. Frederick seemed to have as much clout as anyone besides Crane and Brand, so if a couple of days was the best he could do, then that would have to be that.

  I wondered how much either of them knew about Harris. Crane had said that Frederick was the one to inform him of our friendship, which meant Frederick at least knew he was at the cottage. All the mystery surrounding Harris’s “condition” had me more than a little curious.

  “Have you seen Harris?” I asked.

  Frederick and Henri exchanged uneasy glances that set my teeth on edge.

  “What?” I demanded, looking from one guy to the other and back again.

  Neither answered me, but instead carried on an annoying conversation with eye rolls and face gestures. It was like they were speaking their own language, one I wasn’t fluent in. I hated being left out of the loop.

  “What?” I repeated, backing the single word with a dose of my will to prevent being ignored a second time.

  Finally, Frederick said, “You should really see him for yourself. It’s too hard to explain.”

  Now I rolled my eyes. Why all the secrecy? If I was going to talk to him anyway, why didn’t anyone feel comfortable preparing me for what I was going to find? A thought occurred to me: no one knew what I’d find. Whatever was wrong with Harris was unidentifiable. That was why Crane wanted me to talk to him.

  “You are going to talk to him, aren’t you?” Frederick asked.

  I sighed. “Yeah, I told Ian I would.”

  “Just be prepared,” Frederick said.

  “For what?” I threw up my free hand in exasperation.

  “The worst, Tal.”

  That deflated me. After all I’d seen lately, I couldn’t even imagine what the worst was. I found myself reconsidering the visit, particularly when I remembered Brand was my chaperone.

  “Want to go with me?” I asked Frederick hopefully. Maybe I could cut Brand out of the equation.

  Frederick laughed. It seemed as though he’d read between the lines of my request. “Give Brand a chance. He’s really not so bad.”

  “Give him a chance?” I said incredulously. “He’s the one who hates me!”

  “He doesn’t hate you,” Frederick said softly. “Brand’s story is complicated. He’s been through a lot.”

  I wanted to argue. Hadn’t I been through a lot? I’d seen my parents die, been taken in by their murderer, lied to, experimented on, and who knew what else. And I didn’t have a boulder-sized chip on my shoulder. But when I opened my mouth to make a snappy retort, I realized that maybe I did. It wasn’t like I had people lining up to be my friends. With a shudder, I considered that Brand and I might be more alike than I cared to admit.

  “I’ll see you guys later,” I said instead. Then I hugged first Henri and then Frederick, who whispered in my ear that he’d see me in the meeting later. That lifted my spirits a little. At least there’d be one friendly face in the crowd.

  Chapter Eight

  Brand was sitting in an armchair when I returned to Erik’s room, reading a tattered book. Penny, I noticed immediately, was nowhere in sight. Without the permanent scowl that he normally wore, Brand was actually kind of good looking. The sunlight bathed him in a warm glow, threading golden highlights through his dark hair. He seemed relaxed, calmer than usual, like he was at peace with the world instead of angry at it. I wondered about what Frederick had said. What trauma had occurred in his past to make Brand so hard?

  I actually considered asking Brand about himself, extending an olive branch or whatever. Then, he opened his mouth and all thoughts of a budding friendship flew out the door.

  “Took you long enough,” he grunted.

  “Yeah, well … Where’s Penny?”

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but she’s resting.”

  I snapped. Brand had just made one snide remark too many. “Not my business?” I growled. “Penny is my best friend, which makes her my business.”

  Brand rose, throwing the book he’d been reading onto the chair with enough force that the binding came loose. “Really, Natalia? She’s your best friend? Do you condemn all of your friends to death? It’s a wonder you have any. Oh wait, I forgot, you don’t. Isn’t that why it took Penny so long to get close to you in the first place? Because you’re too good to be bothered with friends?”

  His words hit too close to home. It was true. I didn’t have many friends. The ones I did have were recent additions to my social stratosphere. My jaw clenched, and I felt my back molars grind together as I tried to contain my anger.

  “She only did it, you know, became your friend, because Ian told her to. She was doing her job like any good soldier. Sort of like McDonough’s son. What’s his name? Donavon? Didn’t he only date you to make daddy happy? So daddy could keep you close?” Brand hurtled the accusations at me like knives, and I felt each one stab me in the heart. How he knew about Donavon, I’ll never know. Maybe he was just fishing until he hit a nerve. Well, he had.

  “Get out,” I snarled around a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth. I was literally seconds away from tearing into him. At my sides, my hands were fisted into tight balls with my nails piercing my palms.

  “Why? So you can run to Ian and cry about how I was mean to you? Come on, Talia, you’re supposed to be this badass, a TOXIC assassin. But when push comes to shove, you hide behind –”

  I’d heard enough. My right arm shot forward, power cascaded from my fingertips, spraying raw energy like a fire hose. Brand flew backward, his grass-green eyes going wide with shock before squeezing tight against the pain he felt when his head cracked against the stone wall. I advanced on him, beyond rational thought and indifferent to the repercussions of killing Crane’s second in command.

  Despite the blood I could smell leaking from the back of his skull, Brand was on his feet before I reached him. He put up his fists, like this was some sort of schoolyard fight. I had news for him: in my schoolyard, we’d fought with our talents. I slammed him into the wall a second time, and his spine bore the brunt of it. Brand’s shoulders sagged, and he was attempting to catch his breath since the wind had apparently been knocked out of him.

  I smiled, showing my canines and went in for the knockout. Only, I’d been too quick to count Brand out. He charged me from that hunched-over position, landing a shoulder in the center of my sternum and sending me toppling onto my butt. A jolt of pain rocketed up my spine and down my legs before being swallowed by my mounting rage. Brand was good, I’d give him that. He didn’t waste the small window of opportunity he’d been given. His fist was like a hammer to my temple. I’d been hit plenty of times before, and by better fighters than Brand Meadows. But never had my assailants’ punches packed so much animosity and hatred. I was, probably, the better combatant. Brand was the more emotional one. With every blow, I felt his burning anger. He hated me for what I’d done to Penny. He blamed me for her mother’s death. The death of a woman who’d treated him like a son after he was orphaned.

  I wasn’t the type to allow myself to be a punching bag, even if I secretly felt I deserved many of the hits. I used one arm to shield my face while thrusting the other into his windpipe, causing Brand to arch his neck backward to avoid being cut off from his air supply. His blows started going wild as he flailed against me. Latching onto his mind, I forced him to stop his assault. The guy had a strong will, though, and holding onto his mind was harder than I’d anticipated.

  I was able to force Brand off of me, but he fought my manipulation every step of the way. As soon as I was free of his weight, I scrambled to my feet. Sluggish and dazed, Brand tried to stand. I didn’t let him. Some of my anger had burned away, but the primal urge to attack was still present. Once again, I went in to finish him. Not kill him, just make him think twice the next time he wanted to be such an asshole.

  “Talia!”

  My name stopped me in my tracks. It wasn’t his anger or astonishment that brought me up short. It was his d
isappointment. With TOXIC, I’d been conditioned to please, to seek praise. Having someone I admired be disappointed in me wasn’t something I handled well.

  There was no need to turn around; I knew Crane was standing behind me, witnessing my loss of control. All at once, the room came back into focus. Brand was on his knees in front of me, looking like he’d gone ten rounds in the sparring ring. Erik was unconscious and oblivious. And Crane stood in the doorway with an open-mouthed Dr. Patel.

  Slowly, I turned to face Crane.

  “I’m sorry,” I stammered, turning my hands over and realizing they were slick with Brand’s blood.

  One look at my swollen face, and Crane’s harsh gaze moved to Brand, who was now staggering to his feet. He swayed a little, but managed to appear defiant.

  “I hope you two have gotten your differences out,” Crane said. “I will not tolerate this behavior any longer.”

  “Sir –” Brand started, but Crane cut him off with a wave of his hand.

  “I don’t want to hear it, Brand. You’re both acting ridiculous. This feud has to stop.”

  Used to being chastised for childish antics, I held my tongue and took the reprimand without comment. Brand, however, seemed to feel the need to defend his actions, and kept trying to interrupt. Crane didn’t take kindly to the insubordination, and I got my first real insight into why Ian Crane commanded so much respect.

  “If this is going to continue to be a problem for you, Meadows, there are plenty of other soldiers waiting to take your place. I’ve taken a lot of flak over the years for promoting someone so young over others who are more qualified. Until today, I’ve never regretted my decision. ‘He’s mature for his age,’ I tell your critics. You just proved me wrong.”

  I wasn’t stupid enough to display the smirk tugging at one corner of my mouth. Crane’s ire would turn on me soon.

  “And, Talia, you’re so worried about UNITED hiding you away for fear you’re out of control.”

  All the blood drained from my face. I was extremely worried about that.

  “Are you trying to make that choice easier for them? UNITED has already recommended containment until a reversal drug can be finalized.”

  My head started to spin. No, no way was I being contained, which was just a fancy way of saying “imprisoned.”

  “I have their word that it won’t come to that unless you prove dangerous in your evaluation.” Crane gestured to Brand, who was holding the back of his skull to staunch the bleeding. “Right now, you’re proving yourself dangerous.”

  I bit my cheek to keep from saying something that might damn me further.

  “Brand, let Dr. Patel take a look at you. Talia, get cleaned up. I’ll be back in one hour to take you to see Mr. Daughtery. Obviously you two need some time away from each other to cool off. This better be the last time I see either of you draw the other’s blood. Am I clear?”

  “Yes, sir,” Brand muttered.

  I just nodded. Opening my mouth would’ve been like lowering the floodgates; a rush of pleas, protests, and profanity would’ve spewed forth.

  All three men exited Erik’s room together, leaving me with my wounded pride. Brand’s words had angered me. More than that, they’d hurt me. The truth really did hurt. I truly believed that Penny was my friend – now. But Brand hadn’t been wrong about her reasons for approaching me in the first place. She had gotten close to me because that was her assignment. Donavon had had a similar motivation for dating me. Mac had wanted to keep me close, make sure I never strayed. What better way than to have his son make me fall in love with him?

  I continued my pity party as I walked to the bathroom to wash Brand’s blood from my skin. One look at my reflection in the mirror over the sink, and I was furious all over again. The left side of my face was all puffy. I looked like a chipmunk that had stuffed too much food into its cheek. I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. If he woke up soon, Erik would find a girlfriend with more bumps and bruises than he had. I started to smile but stopped when the gesture caused my cheekbone to sing with pain. Erik would kill Brand if he saw my face.

  As happy as that thought made me, I knew I’d have to intervene before it came to that. UNITED would contain Erik if they found him dangerous. No way was I allowing anyone to put him in a cell ever again.

  After I was clean, I rang Marin and asked her to send down ice. I was sure Dr. Patel had creams and whatever that would reduce the swelling and prevent horrible bruising, but my naturally expedient healing abilities and ice would work nearly as well. Not even two minutes later, the dumbwaiter dinged its arrival. I opened the door and found two big bags full of ice.

  I sat in my chair next to Erik’s bed to nurse my injuries while I explained to my unconscious boyfriend all the unfortunate accidents I was envisioning Brand having in the near future. Sure, I knew it was wishful thinking, and that I’d never follow through with any of them. But the little session was therapeutic all the same. I felt a million times better after telling Erik how Brand was going to step on a hornet’s nest and get stung one thousand times, or how he might fall out of a hovercraft without a parachute or repelling harness.

  “Ms. Lyons?”

  I froze mid-sentence. How long had Dr. Patel been listening to my manic ramblings? Oh no, would he tell Crane?

  “Is it okay if I come in? I would like to check his vitals again.”

  “Of course,” I mumbled guiltily, and moved aside to give the doctor room.

  Dr. Patel assured me that it was too soon to expect Erik to regain consciousness. Nonetheless, his vitals were strong and the outlook good. Quick scans of his internal organs and bones showed that he was healing rapidly, which seemed to confirm Dr. Patel’s suspicion that TOXIC had given him some sort of drug to speed his body’s natural healing process. That was likely why Mac and his minions had been so rough with Erik in the first place: they’d known the damage would repair itself quickly.

  “Mr. Kelley’s blood work came back positive for Veloxics Valencia, a rare drug that increases the rate at which cells and tissues regenerate within the body. At one time, it was used with great frequency, but fell out of favor within the medical community before even I was born.” He chuckled like his age was amusing. I wasn’t sure I got the joke. Dr. Patel couldn’t have been more than like forty.

  “Why isn’t it used anymore?” I asked, curious. A speedy recovery sounded like a good thing to me.

  “Just like with anything that is done in a rush, the healing can be sloppy, for lack of a better word. Bones might be twisted when they reform. Torn tendons might knit back together off-center. That sort of thing. When this sloppy healing occurs, the patient will be very uncomfortable and oftentimes will require surgery to correct the problems. Bones have to be re-broken and reset. It is a mess. The benefits do not outweigh the detriments.”

  I cringed as the sound of snapping bone filled my mind.

  “Mr. Kelley’s breaks appear to be healing nicely, though,” Dr. Patel added quickly. “All of his scans are promising.”

  This news did comfort me to a degree. It also sickened me, though. I healed faster than the average human, all Talents did. I’d thought it was a sideeffect of being talented. Now I wasn’t so sure. Maybe all of the people under TOXIC’s control had been given this super-fast healing drug. Maybe that was why Mac was so willing to send us out into potentially life-threatening situations. Dr. Thistler had said my injuries, the ones I’d sustained in Nevada, took an unusually long time to heal because TOXIC hadn’t gotten to me soon enough. But maybe they’d just been worse than she’d been willing to admit.

  “I am not going to give him any more sedatives,” Dr. Patel continued. “Let us see if he wakes up.”

  For the next hour I watched Erik with rapt attention for even the slightest hint he was ready to rejoin the world. Dr. Patel had told me the sedatives he’d been giving Erik were powerful enough to knock out a two-ton mammal and would, therefore, take anywhere from several hours to several days to wear off. Still, I
couldn’t help but be discouraged when Erik’s beautiful turquoise eyes didn’t open immediately.

  Crane returned to escort me to Harris’s cell. The elevator ride to the prison level was tense and uncomfortable. I stared at the steel doors, at the numbered buttons, at my feet, anywhere except at Crane. I felt as though an apology was in order, but I was still peeved, so I kept quiet.

  The prison level was just as cold and impersonal as I remembered it. I shivered at the memory of waking up in a cage after my first encounter with Brand, which made me wish I’d hit him harder.

  At the end of the long corridor, two soldiers waited for us. They both nodded to Crane first, and then to me. I gave a small, tight smile in return.

  The soldiers showed us into the cage area. The cage had bars on three sides, allowing the inhabitant to be observed at all times. A small cot sat against the solitary wall; Harris was curled into a ball on top of the thin mattress.

  “I’d like to go inside,” I said to one of the guards.

  He looked to Crane for confirmation. When he nodded, the guard unlocked the cage door and held it open for me.

  Once inside, I stayed near the door. No one had prepared me for what I’d find, save that there was something “off” about Harris. I had no desire to be within arm’s reach if he decided to attack.

  “Harris?” I said quietly. He didn’t move. “Harris, it’s Talia,” I tried again. He still didn’t budge.

  Throwing caution to the wind, I knelt next to the cot so that we were at eye level. The guards outside the cage did have guns trained on us, ostensibly for my protection. If Harris made a threatening gesture, they were prepared to shoot. That idea didn’t sit well with me, but at least I knew they had my back.

  Harris’s expression was blank. His eyes stared through me as if I were invisible. He didn’t so much as blink when I snapped my fingers in front of his face. Yep, there was definitely something off with him.

  I sank onto the concrete floor, sitting cross-legged. I reached up to touch his cheek. Relief washed over me when he flinched. At least he wasn’t completely impervious to his surroundings.