by Jamie Zakian
In one of those over dramatic foot stompings, Cyrus walked into the asylum. Lucius couldn’t think about repairing the rift between himself and his brother, or Alexie’s feelings toward him … or what his life could be like if he and Cyrus returned to Ling Enterprises. Those things were flights of fancy. He lived in reality, a lonely one he’d created through a series of tragic mistakes.
Lucius turned from the asylum—from his daydreams of a reunited Liberty Squad—and shot off the ground, soaring across the sky.
Max stepped off the elevator. The sight in front of him was enough to cement his feet in place, until Simon plowed into his back.
“Walk much?” Simon grumbled, brushing off his cape.
“Whoa,” Max muttered.
Across the wide lobby, Shay stood beside the now broken fountain dressed in a killer outfit. It was sexy, too sexy. She shouldn’t be allowed to wear anything so … tight.
Max tried to part his gaze from the curves of her hips, which he hadn’t known existed before she’d squeezed into leather pants. There were a million things in this lobby besides the snug vest that cinched her waist, yet he couldn’t see any of them.
“Seriously?” Simon stepped in front of Max, blocking his view of a girl he shouldn’t want to gawk at. “That’s not okay.”
“If I were thirty-six and she were twenty-six, it wouldn’t matter.”
“Shay’s not twenty-six. She’s sixteen.”
Max cringed. The words twisted his gut, which matched perfectly with his already jumbled mind. He completely understood everyone’s aversion, felt it himself. A relationship between him and Shay would be wrong, on many levels, but he couldn’t get fifty feet from her without melting. And the smile she flashed when Simon walked beside her … it ignited a blaze inside his chest.
It wasn’t easy, but Max forced his stare to the floor and walked toward Shay. There had to be a way he could get her to stay behind. The visual alone. It was very distracting.
“Are you feeling okay?” Max asked Shay, even though his stare remained on his own boots. “You lost a lot of blood.”
“Yeah.” Simon peered into Shay’s eyes. “Maybe you should stay here, rest.”
“Hetal gave me a bunch of shots, B12, iron, a few other concoctions.” Shay slammed her fist into her palm. “I’m wired, let’s do this.”
After that display, Max no longer wanted to leave Shay behind. He wanted to keep her close forever.
“I’ll give you a lift.” He held his hand in front of her, straining not to grin at her wide eyes.
Simon stepped between them and wrapped his arm around Shay’s shoulder. “Let me. You wouldn’t want to singe her hair.”
The moment Simon walked away, Max glowered. He copied Simon’s bulky strut while following them to the sidewalk. Shay glanced back at Max, just in time to catch his over exaggerated ape-like steps.
He froze. That didn’t stop waves of embarrassment from washing over him, or did it erase the stupid look off his face.
Shay giggled and he shrugged. There was nothing he could do besides try to play it off as smoothly as possible. He was a moron, one who probably looked like a drunken monkey.
As Max stepped out the front door of Ling Enterprises, Simon pulled Shay close. The people on the sidewalk around them stopped to gasp, snap pics, and a spike of jealousy nicked Max’s heart.
Wind gusted in swirls as Simon and Shay shot toward the clouds. It shouldn’t bother him that Simon, of all people, had his hands wrapped around Shay. Shouldn’t’s didn’t seem to matter to him anymore, not since Shay breezed into his life.
A prickling heat rose inside Max’s body. The energy surged so fast it rocketed his feet off the ground. Flames ignited around him with a burst, propelling him faster through the air. All his thoughts drifted away, and instinct kicked in. The envy, self-loathing … his broken heart veiled behind moments of weightlessness and freedom.
Max barreled toward a building and cut straight up, leaving a trail of fire along the window fronts. His smile spread with ease, turning into a laugh.
He sped toward the harbor, buzzing past Simon, and a big empty field rolled into view. There was no abandoned asylum, no rubble, not one trace a building had ever occupied the lot. Other than Alexie standing by the waterfront, only an acre of brown grass sat between the rows of deserted warehouses below.
The orb of flames around Max crackled, sizzling out as he landed beside Alexie. “What’s this?” he asked, pointing at the nothing in front of him.
Alexie stared at the empty field where the asylum should be. “It was like this when I got here. I don’t know. It’s just … gone.”
“Hundred-year-old asylums can’t get up and walk away.”
Simon landed in front of them and Shay staggered from his grasp.
“That fire thing on the building was awesome.” Shay adjusted her slightly crooked tactical vest as she glanced around at the patch of tall grass. “Where’s the asylum?”
“What’s she doing here?” Alexie asked, doing a double take at Shay’s outfit. “And why is she dressed like a commando?”
Simon grabbed Alexie by the wrist and pulled her aside. As they exchanged hushed shouts, Shay walked toward the open field that once housed a two-story, three-wing building.
“Where’s the asylum?” she repeated in a louder more frantic tone.
“It was here yesterday,” Alexie said.
“Evie,” Shay yelled.
They all waited, silent, as though Shay’s call would trigger Evie to appear. Seconds passed and only the sound of water slapping the harbor’s concrete wharf rang out. Shay turned toward Max. Fear shrouded her stare. She looked so young with glazed over eyes, so vulnerable. Guilt flooded his mind. More than ever, he hated himself for being attracted to Shay.
“We’ll find her,” Simon said, patting Shay on the shoulder.
“Find who? What went down?” Alexie asked.
“Evie’s been abducted,” Simon said, glaring at Alexie. “Someone with abilities took her form, was impersonating her.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.” Alexie looked at the grassy lot that used to hold the asylum. “Who would want to be Evie?”
“We think Lucius and Cyrus have been doing some recruiting,” Max said. “They must know about the others with powers. Found some idiot who’ll listen to their insane rantings.”
“Yeah.” Alexie ran her hand along the back of her neck, looking down at the ground. “I see how that could happen.”
“I’m never gonna find her,” Shay said, her voice barely resonating over the whistle of the harbor’s breeze.
Max reached for Shay, caught Simon’s disapproving head shake, then lowered his hand to his side. “We have to find Lucius to find your sister.”
Shay stared at the long blades of dead grass that danced in the wind. “Evie must be so scared.”
Evie’s back rubbed against a van’s hard metal floor as she kicked its side door. She was furious. She’d been locked in a damp cell, fed scraps, then handcuffed and tossed into a cargo van. There would be a reckoning. Nobody treated Evie Sinclair like this and got away with it.
Her hands were cuffed behind her back, and her balled fists banged against her spine every time she kicked the van’s door, but that didn’t stop her. Rage was a beautiful thing, especially when it fueled her body to keep fighting.
Evie kicked the door harder, and the handcuff’s edge dug into her wrist. The sharp metal sliced her skin. Warm blood streaked down her palm and dripped off her fingertips. Her entire body ached, which only made her angrier. That anger gave her the power to kick the van’s door again and again.
The door flew open and Evie rolled to her knees. Dr. Mayhem crowded her escape. His wide body blocked nearly all light from the world beyond the van’s doorway.
“You’ve injured yourself.”
Evie gasped, choking on the heart that now resided in her throat.
“That voice,”
she said, mostly to herself. Even muffled through a shapeless black mask, she knew that voice. It belonged to a man who whispered words of love into her ear as he held her in his strong arms.
“Fitz,” Evie said, breathlessly. “That’s you, right? Fitzgerald. As in, Cyrus Fitzgerald Grant. That’s you hiding like a coward behind that mask, right?”
He lifted his hand and Evie cowered down. Fabric rustled then his thin black mask fell to the floor beside her, but she didn’t look. She couldn’t see him dressed in a hard plastic suit, with a dark cape fluttering in the wind.
“Evie. You don’t understand.”
“Don’t,” Evie yelled. “Don’t talk to me like you care about me.”
“I do care about you. Look at me.”
He bent down in front of Evie and she leaned away from him. Her back wedged into a corner of the van, and cool steel pressed against her cheek. A strong pull tugged on Evie’s chest. Her body wanted to collapse against the man in front of her, but she forced herself to remain against the van’s sharp metal side.
“Look at me.”
Warm breath rushed over Evie’s skin, leaving a hint of peppermint. It reminded her of sweet kisses from a caring man. Tingles ran through her body, and it made her sick.
Evie looked at Fitz, Cyrus … Dr. Mayhem, praying to God her look would kill. He didn’t die. His body didn’t shatter into a million pieces the way her heart did at this moment. He just stared at her with loving eyes, which hurt more than the handcuffs pinching her wrists.
“This was the only way I could save your life. I hope, one day, you’ll be able to forgive me, because I do love you.”
He sounded serious. Evie almost believed him.
“If you really love me, let me go.”
“There’s nothing to let you go to. In a year from now, regular people won’t exist anymore. You’ll thank me for this.”
Cyrus moved away from the van’s side door, leaving it open, and Evie hurried toward it. A hand clutched onto her throat, squeezing. She peered up, into Antiserum’s iron mask.
Antiserum shoved Evie back into the van, then tossed a body onto the floor beside her.
“Don’t say I never gave you anything,” he growled, slamming the door shut.
Shay walked into the lab and unzipped her vest, fanning her sweaty skin.
“Hetal,” she yelled.
Hetal didn’t crawl from beneath a machine or poke her head over the wall of computers, which stopped Shay’s steps in the middle of the lab.
“That’s strange.”
“Maybe she went home,” Simon said.
Alexie hung in the lab’s doorway, slowly backing into the hall. “Text me if you need me.”
“Hey. Wait up,” Simon called out, following Alexie from the lab.
Shay turned her back to Max. She peeled the heavy vest off her shoulders, dropped it onto her workbench, and hurried to pull on her lab coat.
“Hetal’s bag is still here. She wouldn’t go home without it.”
“Maybe she ran to the diner.”
Max’s voice flowed right beside Shay’s ear. She could practically feel him prowling close behind her, too close. An entire speech about the appropriate amount of personal space between two colleagues formed in her mind as she turned to face Max.
He stared at her from far across the room, looking awfully confused by her raised finger and wide-open mouth ready to reprimand, as he should be.
Shay shrank down, closing her mouth. Something, she had to say something to cover up her foolishness.
“I’ve been working up a theory on how to extract Jenna’s soul from my body.”
Instant regret followed the words that babbled from Shay’s mouth. There were a million things going on right now and she chose to discuss that topic with Max, while they were alone.
“Is it dangerous?”
That was a good question, one that hadn’t bothered to cross Shay’s mind.
“I haven’t really gotten that far into the equation yet. But I suppose everything’s dangerous, in a way.”
Max sat on the lab’s small couch, hoisting his hands behind his head. “Ain’t that the truth?”
“Back to babysitting duty?”
“No. I like hanging with you, watching you work. You take a pile of junk and turn it into something unimaginable. It’s pretty cool.”
Max’s statement might have been the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to Shay, in the most nonchalant way. The guy definitely mastered the mixed signals routine. Not even all the brains in her head could decipher his motives. She’d have to resort to drastic measures and have an actual, straight-up conversation with Max.
“What are you doing, here, with me?”
Max lowered his hands to his lap. He squirmed on the couch, its leather crinkling under his weight. “I don’t … What do you mean?”
“Are you waiting for Jenna to come back? Have you been flirting with me, or are you like this with everyone? You do know I’m a junior, in high school, right?”
“That’s, a lot of questions.” Max leaned forward on the couch. He rested his elbows on his knees and stared at the floor. “I kind of hope Jenna never comes back. It hurts too much.”
He looked at Shay, for a second, then his stare returned to the metal floor. “I have been flirting with you, and I feel really disgusting about it.”
“Because I’m disgusting?”
“No,” Max said, rising to his feet. “Because I do know you’re a junior in high school.”
Max finally locked eyes with Shay, and this time she looked away. His ridiculous hotness had been easy to overcome, but that gleam in his eyes when he stared at her quaked her knees every time.
“I wish I didn’t feel this way about you,” Max said, more to himself than her. “I look at you and try to see a bratty kid, but all I can see is a stunning person.”
Max lifted his hand and Shay thought, hoped, he’d reach for her but he ran his fingers though his own hair.
“I won’t flirt with you anymore, unless you flirt with me first. Then it’s on.”
“Umm. Okay.” Shay wasn’t exactly sure how she felt about that—terrified, hopeful, and a bunch more terrified. Either way, she’d be careful not to remotely flirt with Max in any way anytime soon. If only more people were around, then it’d be easier to accomplish this seemingly impossible feat.
“Where’d Simon go?” she asked, in an almost seamless transition of subject.
“I don’t know.” Max pulled out his cell phone, glanced at its screen, then shoved it back into his pocket. “Hetal should be back too. I think she lives in here now.”
Shay headed straight to the nearest computer. “The beautiful elf who guards the lab.” She typed on the computer’s keyboard before her butt could sink into a chair.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m gonna hack the security cameras, see when Hetal left.”
“Oh.” Max rolled Shay’s chair aside and pulled another over, taking a seat in front of the computer she’d been typing on. “Let a professional handle this.”
“Excuse me.” Shay scooted her chair back toward the computer, just enough to see its display and no closer.
“I’m in, but I do know Simon’s password so …”
“That’s cheating, Mr. Professional.” Shay would’ve smacked Max on the arm, but wasn’t certain if that would be considered flirting. To be safe, she clasped her fingers together and placed her hands in her lap.
Max rewound the camera feed, stopping at the first sight of Hetal. “Here she is, at seven p.m.”
“That’s right after we left.”
The screen flashed to gray fuzz then cleared to an empty lab.
“What happened?” Shay wheeled her chair beside Max, slanting closer to the computer’s display. “The feed skipped ahead two minutes.”
“It’s some kind of interference. I’ll back it up and slow it down.”
Shay star
ed at the computer’s screen as the clicks of a keyboard echoed throughout the room, the lonely, empty room. First Evie got taken from their suite while she slept, and now Hetal goes missing in the lab. Shay was running out of places that felt safe. Maybe that was the point.
“There.” Shay pointed at a blurry image of Hetal, literally floating through the air. A white light flashed and Hetal disappeared. “That’s just …”
“I’m calling Simon.”
The rough edges of metal handcuffs scraped Evie’s raw skin as she rolled to her knees. Tires squealed. The van swayed as it started to drive at a fast speed, and her shoulder slammed against the locked side door.
A white lab coat gleamed in the seconds a passing streetlight lit the cargo van’s back cab. The little body, which hadn’t moved since tossed beside Evie, had to be Shay. Only a monster would want their little sister in this situation. In that case, she was a monster because she really wanted to see Shay’s face.
Evie crawled closer to the motionless body. Streetlights flashed and she glimpsed brown skin.
“Hetal!” Evie used her shoulder to roll Hetal onto her back.
Not a groan, a mumble … not even a peep flowed from Hetal’s lips. Evie dropped her head on Hetal’s chest, grinning as the wonderful sound of a heart’s strong beat filled her ear.
“Wake up.” Evie nudged Hetal with her knee and still nothing. “Please.”
A thin flap slid open in the metal divider that separated the back of the van and the front cab. Evie peeked through the slit, but could only see glimpses of city buildings as they sped by the windshield.
“She’s been tranquilized,” said a deep voice through the narrow slit in the divider. It wasn’t Cyrus’s gentle tenor. The man who’d spoken to her had a rigid tone, one that seemed to chill the air.
Evie leaned against the divider. Her handcuffs pressed against her back as she ducked to see into the driver’s seat.
“You must be Lucius.”
The man behind the wheel didn’t answer, but Evie could see a hint of a smile lift his stubbly cheek.
“I know you as Corbin, since that’s what Fitz called you every time he ranted about his overbearing brother.”