My breathing was uneven and when I returned Erik’s gaze, the air shuddered as it left my lips. His mouth was on mine a moment later. I finally dared to move, wrapping my arms around his neck as he shifted in his chair to close the gap between us. Dark, silky strands of his hair tickled my fingers, and I pulled him closer until he was no longer sitting, but rather leaning over me.
I felt how badly his knee hurt and began drawing the pain from his body into mine.
“Don’t,” Erik sent.
“Why?” I replied, taking more of his pain with every breath.
“You need your energy. Don’t want you getting tired on me.” Erik’s attempt at a joke– at least I thought it was a joke – made me laugh.
“Are you sure about this? Dr. Patel wants you to rest,” I sent, even though I knew Erik had already made up his mind.
“Tals? Stop talking.”
I did. Erik left his mind open, so I did, too. While imprisoned, Erik had truly believed he was going to die. Every cut that healed, every bone that mended itself, only caused his resolve to plummet further. He, like Penny, had welcomed death while in Mac’s custody. Now, all he wanted was to feel alive again. Being with me did that for him. Every touch, every kiss, reminded him why he’d never lost hope. I wasn’t sure if leaving his mind open was his way of sharing the events of his torture with me or not. Embarrassment colored his emotions, and I realized Brand had been right. Erik wanted me to see him as strong and undefeatable, the constant stream of tranquility in my otherwise rocky life.
The more we touched and kissed, and the more skin became exposed, the hungrier he was for more. His urges were basic, just like the other day, but today he was driven by love. In the back of his mind, a dark cloud lingered on the horizon. For tonight, the storm would hold off. I wondered if he saw a twin cloud in my mind. That thought was quickly replaced by more primitive ones. The feel of his rough hands as they skimmed over my sides. A tingly sensation spreading across my skin when he traced my collarbones with the tip of his tongue. His emotions intensified my reactions. And for a little while, I truly believed the future held promise. As long as we were together, nothing else mattered.
Chapter Seventeen
As if being awakened by the way too cheerful Dr. Patel before sunrise wasn’t bad enough, he had an entourage with him. The covers were pulled up to my waist, leaving the upper half of my body naked and on display. I was curled up next to Erik with my arm across his chest and his holding me against his side, a palm splayed in the middle of my back. The situation could’ve been worse. Not much, though.
Edmond snickered from the doorway. “Way to go big bro,” he called.
I wanted to throw a pillow at him, but that would expose more of me to his overeager eyes. Erik pulled me tighter against him, using his free arm to pull the covers up over my shoulders.
“Give us a minute,” he told his brother and the others, who included Brand of all people.
“I wanted to go over some stuff with you before the meeting today. We can do it down here if you’d prefer. Doesn’t make a difference to me.” Brand’s tone was bored, like catching us naked was an everyday occurrence.
I attempted to blend into my surroundings. Maybe shifting into a chameleon would help, I thought.
“I’ll come upstairs,” Erik replied.
“Command center in thirty?” Brand asked.
“Sure,” Erik said.
Heavy footfalls signaled one less visitor.
“Edmond, leave,” Erik ordered his brother this time, using manipulation to ensure compliance. Without another word, he too was gone.
Only Dr. Patel remained, and I considered using Erik’s method to get rid of him, as well. Oblivious to my humiliation and impervious to the awkwardness of the moment, the doctor closed the door and continued towards the bed.
“Um, I’m not wearing any clothes,” I pointed out needlessly.
Dr. Patel waved his hand and said, “I am a doctor, Ms. Lyons,” as if that made it okay. Erik and I exchanged glances, his amused, mine irritated.
“He has a point, Tals. Don’t worry, he’ll be quick,” Erik sent.
“I’m naked,” I sent back, annoyed.
Erik slid his hand down my spine and around my hip, giving it a little squeeze in the process. “I know.”
“No need to check him out today,” I told the doctor dryly. “He’s back to his old self.”
Only Erik wasn’t back to his old self. Physically, even Dr. Patel was impressed with the rapid rate at which Erik’s injuries were healing. But as the doctor lectured him on not exerting himself so soon, Erik grew agitated. When Dr. Patel suggested taking part in the attack was inadvisable, Erik’s temper soared.
“I’m not an invalid,” he snapped at the doctor.
“No one is saying you are,” soothed Dr. Patel. “I am merely suggesting such violence at this time might stir up unpleasant memories and emotions that you are not ready to deal with.”
“Then why did you give me the healing drug?” Erik shot back.
“I am merely making a suggestion, Mr. Kelley. As your doctor, I feel it is my duty.”
The anger hit a breaking point, and I threw my arms around Erik while simultaneously sending him wave after of wave of calming thoughts before he attacked the doctor.
“Leave,” I told Dr. Patel in a flat voice.
“It was not my intention to upset him.” It wasn’t an apology exactly. A part of me thought the doctor had been trying to trigger a reaction in Erik. It was like he was seeing what pushed Erik’s buttons. If he felt what I felt, he’d know he was on very shaky ground.
“Leave,” I repeated, firmer this time.
I returned my focus to Erik. He was seething. Currents of electricity transferred from his skin to mine at every point of contact. The sensation didn’t hurt, but it was uncomfortable. I held him tighter, thinking happy thoughts even though I was quickly becoming scared. Not scared of Erik so much as what he might do if he didn’t calm down.
“He’s just worried about your health,” I tried to explain.
Erik ground his teeth together. “No one tells me what to do anymore.” The tone of his voice was low and threatening. He peeled my arms from around him and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “If I want to have sex with my girlfriend, I will. If I want to go to D.C. and kill McDonough, I will. I’ve earned that right.”
I said nothing, fearing anything I did say would cause him to explode.
Erik struggled to his feet and swore when he put weight on his bad leg.
“Do you want help?” I asked timidly. I was nervous to speak mentally, since he hadn’t. His mind was still open, so I felt the raw emotion and power fighting for dominance. Through the haze of rage, I saw how frightened Erik was. He didn’t understand why he was so upset. He didn’t like getting so worked up over something so stupid. He did hate being told what to do, though. It reminded him of Mac screaming orders at him as a doctor injected him with one needle full of serum after another.
“I don’t want your pity, Talia,” he grunted as he limped awkwardly towards the bathroom.
“It’s not pity. I want to help you. Like you always help me. Like you helped me last night,” I let the emotion show in my words, hoping my vulnerability would generate a positive response. He loved being strong for me, protecting me, defending me. Last night we’d done what we’d done because we wanted to. But being with Erik had given me comfort.
Erik paused when he reached the doorway to the bathroom and rested his forehead against the frame. He was completely naked and beautiful. The muscles in his legs, back, and shoulders were still well-defined. I bit my lip, trying to push back the thoughts I shouldn’t be having in the middle of an argument.
To my astonishment and relief, Erik laughed. Not superficial laughter. Real laughter. The kind that started deep in his chest and shook his entire body. I wasn’t sure what he found so funny, but the tension in the room evaporated like a fine mist.
“Come here,”
he sent.
I scrambled out of bed, dragging the sheet with me. We might be alone, but I was still self-conscious about being sans clothing with the lights on. When I reached Erik’s side, he gently untangled my fingers from the sheet, causing it to fall to the floor.
“You’re beautiful, too,” he told me.
Apparently I hadn’t pushed those thoughts away so well.
Erik was half an hour late to meet Brand, who scowled and said, “You’re late,” when we finally joined him in the command center. The trek to the first sublevel had been slow and painful for Erik and even slower and more painful for me to watch. He blocked his mind, refusing to let me ease his suffering. I let him be stubborn. His pride was important to him, and I respected that. I worried that his body wasn’t ready for the upcoming mission, and that he’d push himself into it anyway.
The meeting with Brand was brief. He just wanted to get his facts straight before addressing the entire Coalition and UNITED and their guard. It was agreed that Erik wouldn’t speak during the meeting unless absolutely necessary. We were all worried he might become agitated if anyone questioned his knowledge.
Before long, Victoria and Amberly joined us. It was the first time I’d laid eyes on either councilwoman since my evaluation. Victoria appeared polished as usual, but stress was starting to take its toll on her. Her posture was more rigid than usual, and her painted lips were permanently pursed like she’d eaten something sour and was unable to get the taste out of her mouth. I almost felt bad for her, then I remembered that stupid tube. Yeah, she deserved a little stress in her life, I decided.
“Good morning, Ms. Lyons, Mr. Kelley. You are both well-rested, I see. Wonderful. We have a big day ahead of us,” she said.
“I don’t suppose McDonough surrendered during the night and we can bag this whole mission?” Brand asked.
“No, Captain Meadows, I am afraid not. Our sources indicate he has no intention of doing so, either. It is my plan to have the city surrounded and our forces on the ground in place and ready for action the minute the deadline expires,” Victoria told him.
I wondered if Frederick was her source. According to Henri, he’d been her constant companion since returning from Kentucky. My heart ached for him. Having to spend so much time with Victoria was enough to drive anyone mad.
Both councilwomen took seats across the table from us. Amberly smiled at me as she bent to retrieve an electronic tablet from the brown leather briefcase she’d carried in. Victoria folded her hands on the glass tabletop and seemed content to stare at Erik, studying him like a piece of particularly fascinating artwork. It was off-putting.
The other council members I’d met previously filed in shortly thereafter, followed by Crane and Frederick. Coalition soldiers were next. I recognized most of them by now. Janelle waved hello to me. Jared even mustered a half-smile. I was growing on the guy. With only so much room around the table, the majority of the soldiers stood along the walls. They were different shapes, sizes, and colors, but they all had the same determined gleam in their eyes. Eager anticipation and nervous energy made them fidgety.
Next to me, Erik was gripping the arms of his chair with white knuckles. The heightened emotions in the room were getting to him. The angry mob mentally was sending his temper northward. I stared straight into his beautiful turquoise eyes.
“Block them,” I sent.
“I can’t.” Erik’s mental voice was strained.
“You’ve got to. You’ll lose control if you don’t. Concentrate on something soothing, something that relaxes you.”
Erik’s face transformed a moment later when he found his happy place, which as it turned out was rather intimately associated with me. His irises danced and he drew his mostly healed bottom lip between white teeth.
My cheeks burned. “Find another happy place,” I demanded.
“That’s the only place I want to be.”
“This is crazy,” an anxious voice said behind us.
We both jumped guiltily as Edmond stuck his head between ours.
“Did I interrupt something?” he asked, confused. “I know you guys have that whole weird mindspeak thing. Were you just talking?”
“Not important,” I muttered.
“We’re about to go live, people,” someone called.
I turned my attention to the wallscreen at the far end of the room. It went from one large black rectangle to twenty smaller rectangles, each displaying a different image. One of the feeds was coming from UNITED Headquarters in Bern, Switzerland. At least twenty men and women sat around a huge round table with a holographic projection of Washington, D.C. in the center. The sound was muted, but I could see their mouths moving.
Another feed showed one lone participant, Councilman Michael Tanaka, the one council member I’d taken an instant liking to. He sat at a sleek mahogany desk in what looked like a personal office. The shelves behind his head were lined with moving pictures of a teenage girl who was his spitting image.
A third feed was from a lab. Glass vials, test tubes, and beakers were arranged in front of a terrifyingly pale woman with pastel pink hair and eyes that matched. She wore shimmery shadow on her eyelids that caught the light every time she moved her head.
Erik and I turned to look at each and exchanged a glance that said, “She’s a scientist?”
The rest of the images were from military bases. Some were here in Coalition territory, while others were on foreign soil, if the flags flying in the background were any indication. At least one of the feeds was from a ship. The ocean peeked through behind the soldiers’ heads.
“Councilwoman Walburton, the floor is yours when you’re ready,” Crane said.
Victoria smiled and pressed a button on the tabletop in front of her.
“Good morning, good afternoon, and good evening,” she began, and her voiced echoed back at us a split second later from twenty remote locations. “As you are all aware by now, the United States government installation known as TOXIC is in violation of UNITED mandate 1216.45, which prohibits use and experimentation involving the creation drug. For those of you unfamiliar with it, the creation drug is as the name implies, a drug for genetically engineering talents.
“TOXIC Director, Danbury McDonough, has until zero hours Eastern Standard Time tomorrow to surrender to UNITED and submit himself for questioning. Failure to do so, and it is the belief of UNITED that he will fail to do so, will leave us no choice but to take action. The Director is currently residing at the Hamilton Hotel in Washington, D.C. along with top TOXIC officials and high-ranking members of the government. All civilians and non-essential government personnel have been evacuated from the city.
“Because we believe surrender is improbable, strike teams are being assembled and put in place to attack as soon as the deadline expires. TOXIC has an impressive military at their disposal, made even more impressive and deadly since we have reason to believe many of the operatives have been injected with the creation drug. The battle will not be easy, but it is one UNITED is positive we will win.”
Victoria spoke with so much confidence that she was awe-inspiring. Her calm demeanor left no room for doubt. Even I had to admit she was a master orator. I wasn’t the only one who felt that way, either. Just in our small command center, the readiness for a fight was palpable. She had the soldiers’ attention. Her words were mesmerizing. While I couldn’t feel their emotions through the wallscreen, I saw it on their faces; she’d gotten to the others, too.
“Councilwoman Walburton,” someone called from one of the feeds, and that rectangle zoomed to the forefront of the screen, dwarfing the other nineteen. A male soldier with a bald head and weathered face was larger than life as he addressed Victoria.
“Yes, Captain?” she replied, acknowledging him.
“Forgive my curiosity, but are we positive a violation has occurred? These are serious charges.” His tone was clipped and he had a faint Irish lilt.
“UNITED has proof that at least four TOXIC operatives have
been injected with the drug. Two of the four have suffered through rounds of experimentation at TOXIC’s hands. I have personally evaluated each of the individuals. The evidence is irrefutable.”
I thought this might be a cue and that I was going to be called upon to speak. But when I caught Victoria’s golden eyes, she gave an almost imperceptible shake of her perfectly-styled head.
“Councilwoman,” this time it was Councilman Tanaka’s image that flew to the center of the wallscreen, “will our forces be facing super soldiers? What do we know about these created Talents?”
“As of right now, not as much as I would like, I am afraid,” Victoria responded. “For a more complete answer, I will turn the floor over to the Council’s Head of Biomedical Research, Dr. Alexis Kramer.”
I glanced around the room in surprise. I hadn’t seen Dr. Kramer enter, but there he was, dressed in khakis and a blue short-sleeved button down. He moved away from the wall where he’d been standing between two Coalition soldiers.
The doctor cleared his throat and began explaining to all twenty-one locations that we should expect Mac’s operatives to be stronger, faster, and all around better than our forces. Their healing abilities were likely to be far superior to our own, even those of us who were naturally talented. They’d be harder to incapacitate for this reason.
I wasn’t sure if I had the authority to speak, but a question was burning a hole in my mind. What about the operatives who were fighting against their will? Few, if any, had asked to be injected. Most had been against their will, or at least unbeknownst to them. Like Harris, many had probably been brainwashed. It wasn’t fair to kill them. As soon as Dr. Patel found a cure, those people could be saved.
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