Whispers in the Dark k-4

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Whispers in the Dark k-4 Page 27

by Maya Banks


  “Fuck you,” Resnick snarled back. “There’s a goddamn possibility that she’s my sister. I’m not leaving her safety to chance and definitely not to KGI. You guys are good. I get that. I wouldn’t have you do work for me if I didn’t think you were the best. But you don’t know what you’re dealing with here, and I didn’t have time to debrief you. I had to move and move fast because Shea and Grace were running out of time. As it is, Grace has dropped off the map. But I could save Shea and I did what I had to do.”

  “She’s your what?” Nathan demanded. What the fuck? This just got more twisted by the minute. “Wait a goddamn minute. Shea told me how she was born. Or rather how she was created. You’re full of shit, Resnick.”

  Resnick’s eyes grew shadowed and suddenly he looked so much older than he was. “I’m not full of shit. I was born in that same goddamn lab. Shea and Grace could both be my sisters. And even if they aren’t my blood, I feel a kinship to them that can’t be removed just because of genetics. I have to make this right for them once and for all. I don’t give a damn what it takes.”

  CHAPTER 36

  EVERYONE stared at Resnick like he’d just admitted to being a terrorist. Maybe that wasn’t far off the mark. Nathan glanced sideways at his brothers to gauge their reactions. They didn’t have time for this shit. Evidently Resnick agreed.

  “Look, we don’t have time for this right now, but I swear to you, I’ll explain everything. I won’t leave out anything. But you have to go after Shea. Bring her back.”

  “Oh, so now you trust us to track her down after she kicked your guy’s balls in,” Sam drawled. “How ironic.”

  “What the fuck did you do to her?” Nathan demanded. “Why can’t she communicate with me? Why would you take that away from her? I’d know where she is right now if you hadn’t fucked with her.”

  “It’s only temporary,” Resnick said warily. “I did it so she wouldn’t have you on our asses.”

  Ethan cleared his throat. “And how’s that working out for you?”

  “You better hope it’s temporary,” Nathan seethed. “And you better hope I find her quick and that she’s okay. I’ll hunt you down, Resnick. There isn’t a place you can hide from me.”

  Joe put his hand on Nathan’s shoulder. “Come on, bro. I’m with you. Let’s go find Shea. We can take Steele and company, leave everyone else here to sit on the trash so we can take it out later.”

  Nathan turned to stare into his twin’s eyes, saw answering resolve there. Always looking out for each other. It was as it should be. Nathan hadn’t been the best at guarding Joe’s back over the last months, but Joe had never stopped standing at Nathan’s. Not even when Nathan was doing everything he could to push his twin away.

  Nathan held up his hand and Joe grasped it. Then they started for the door.

  “Now wait just a goddamn minute,” Sam said in exasperation. “I don’t know who you two knuckleheads think you are or what you’re doing, but you don’t run this operation. And Steele damn sure won’t take orders from either one of you infants.”

  Donovan lowered his rifle and then glanced toward Ethan, Garrett and Sam. “You stay here. Swanny and I will go with them.”

  Garrett didn’t look happy, but then he never was happy about anything that kept him out of the know.

  “Steele, fall back. Have P.J. and Cole stand down. We’re out of here,” Donovan said into the radio. “Shea escaped and is on her own. It’s imperative we find her before things get any worse.”

  HER head hurt. Not just headache hurt. It felt like someone had hit her with a sledgehammer and half her skull was caved in. She was so overwhelmed with nausea that even breathing was a chore.

  And she was pissed.

  She was tired of all the crazies in her life. The dude whose house she had been taken to gave her the creeps. Like in a stalkerish “I’m not going to hurt you but I’ll confine you to my dungeon for the next ten years and never let you come out” kind of way.

  She shivered and trudged down another alleyway that reeked of garbage and God only knew what else. She had a good imagination. She didn’t really need to know.

  At least she knew where she was now, thanks to her flight through the streets. The problem? It was several states away from Tennessee. Charleston, South Carolina, was a beautiful city. It really was. Just not so much right now when she had no money, no ID, no idea how to communicate with Nathan—it wasn’t as if she had his phone number.

  Lord, but she was getting loopy, and if she didn’t get rid of the headache soon, she was going to vomit everywhere.

  She was afraid even to think about reaching out to Nathan. The pain was already so overwhelming that anything else she did to intensify her agony would send her straight over the edge.

  Still, she had to try. What other options did she have?

  She stepped from the alleyway and then hurriedly crossed the street. She’d been in this situation before. Nothing had changed. She’d been running for a year. She could do this without freaking out. Or at least that’s what she kept telling herself.

  Focus, Shea. Just focus, damn it.

  The problem was that before she only had to run. It didn’t matter where she went as long as she was able to melt in a crowd somewhere, disappear, lie low. Now? It wasn’t that easy. She didn’t want to go off alone again. She wanted to be back with Nathan and his horde of overprotective brothers and all their hulking team members.

  She slowed in her walk. She’d felt safe with them, but she hadn’t been. Maybe that was her reality. Maybe she’d never be safe with anyone. She’d allowed herself to be reeled in by the fantasy of being able to rely on someone else. To have someone to protect her. Hope had been fierce within her after dealing with cold, hard reality for so long.

  And the minute she’d let her guard down and allowed herself to depend on someone else? She’d been thrown over some psycho G.I. Joe wannabe’s shoulder and nearly tossed off a cliff.

  Say it with me. Safety is an illusion.

  Nothing like a good shot of optimism to boost her spirits.

  Seeing an empty bench by a bus stop, she sank down onto it, watching warily around her for anyone who looked remotely threatening. She needed to clear her damn mind. She needed to figure out what to do.

  She had no money, no ID. If she got stopped by a cop for any reason, she was so screwed. She had stuff stashed in a few places, but that didn’t do her any good when she had no way to get to it.

  Damn it. Grace wasn’t talking. Shea’s head splintered when she even tried to call out for Nathan. She wanted to bury her face in her hands and cry like a damn baby, but she was too disgusted with herself to give in to that particular dramafest.

  She sat for several moments and purposely blanked her mind. She rubbed soothingly at her temples and tried to shake off the aftereffects of the drugs they’d given her. It was the only explanation for why she couldn’t use her telepathy.

  And then she panicked. What if it was permanent? Who knew what kind of crazy crap they’d given her? She quickly realized the absurdity of thinking such a thing. They wanted her abilities. They didn’t want to destroy them.

  She sucked in air through her nose and then held her breath as she whispered Nathan’s name in her mind.

  The stabbing pain nearly flattened her. She pitched forward, gulping desperately in an effort not to cry out. There was so much pressure in her skull, it felt like it would burst at any moment. Like a volcano. It literally felt like something was about to break apart in her head.

  But then she heard him. A faint whisper, so light she wondered if it was wishful thinking.

  Shea, where are you, baby?

  Oh God, she couldn’t answer, could she? What if something did burst in her head? What if she had some freak aneurysm? What the hell was going on with her?

  She rocked back and forth, trying not to let any sound escape.

  “Miss, are you all right?”

  Shea jerked her head around to see an elderly man sit down on the b
ench next to her. She nodded jerkily. “I’m f-fine.”

  He gave her a doubtful look and she shot to her feet. She hurried away, knowing she probably drew more attention than if she’d just sat there, but she didn’t trust herself not to completely lose it and that would definitely gain her far more attention than if she simply walked away.

  She hugged herself close and hunched down as she passed block after block. The streetlights blurred in her vision and she winced every time she inadvertently made contact with passing headlights.

  It was like having a headache on steroids. The mother of all migraines. Every sound, every touch, every shard of light was so overwhelming that she couldn’t even process her thoughts. She couldn’t put together the simplest of plans and so she wandered through the city like some zombie.

  She nearly stepped off the curb in front of a car when she was yanked backward. The hand on her arm was crushing, and she winced as she tried to pull away.

  “Th-Thank you,” she tried to murmur but it came out as unintelligible garble. And then she looked up and her stomach bottomed out.

  It was a face she’d seen many times in her nightmares in the last weeks. He’d beaten and brutalized her and been ruthless in his determination to extract the information he wanted from her.

  Nathan had told her that it wasn’t just Grace these assholes wanted. He was resolute in his opinion that they wanted her just as much. They’d taken too much care not to seriously injure her.

  So if they didn’t want her dead, and had no intention of killing her, she had absolutely nothing to lose by making the mother of all scenes.

  As if reading her mind—who the hell knows, maybe he had—his grip tightened around her wrist until she let out a cry of pain.

  “If you try anything, I’ll break your arm,” he hissed. “I will make you suffer unimaginably. If you cooperate, you’ll get to see your sister again.”

  Her eyes widened in fear and her stomach clenched. Was this what had happened to Grace? Did these bastards already have her?

  “Where is she?” Shea demanded, ignoring the roaring in her head.

  “Get in the car,” he directed as a dark sedan pulled to the curb and stopped. “Do it or I’ll make you regret the day you were born.”

  “Don’t you mean created?” she said in disgust.

  He shoved her forward into the open backseat and then climbed in beside her. “Drive,” he directed.

  Oh God, Nathan, I hope you can hear me. The drugs they gave me, it makes using my telepathy unbearable. The pain is horrific. I can’t do this for long. They found me. They have me again. Not the same as who took me from you. Different. The ones who had me first, the ones who tortured me. Help me, please. I was in downtown Charleston, but I have no idea where they’re taking me. I’ll try to establish a link when the pain is gone.

  It was too much. She grabbed her head as tears streamed down her cheeks. She rocked back and forth moaning and sobbing. Her abductor looked at her like she’d lost her mind, and then as if realizing what she’d been doing, he yanked her head up by her hair.

  She saw his fist coming and didn’t even try to dodge it. At the moment she welcomed oblivion with open arms.

  CHAPTER 37

  AS soon as Nathan, Joe, Swanny and Donovan hit the front, where Steele was already waiting with his team, a wave of agony hit Nathan so hard that his knees buckled and he went down.

  “What the fuck?” Joe demanded. He dropped down next to his brother and grasped his arm, trying to steady Nathan’s descent.

  Donovan grabbed Nathan’s other arm and then bent over as he and Joe eased him to the ground.

  “What’s wrong?” Donovan asked sharply. “Talk to me, Nathan. Is it Shea? You’re scaring the shit out of me here.”

  “It’s Shea,” Swanny said sharply. “Something’s going on and it ain’t good.”

  But Nathan wasn’t focused on his brothers. He was caught in a myriad of pain, like needles were poking into his head. The inside of his skull felt scraped and turned inside out. Dear God, was this what Shea was experiencing?

  And then he heard her. So desperate, her voice cracking under the onslaught of agony.

  Oh God, Nathan, I hope you can hear me. The drugs they gave me, it makes using my telepathy unbearable. The pain is horrific. I can’t do this for long. They found me. They have me again. Not the same as who took me from you. Different. The ones who had me first, the ones who tortured me. Help me, please. I was in downtown Charleston, but I have no idea where they’re taking me. I’ll try to establish a link when the pain is gone.

  He roared his frustration and tried to scramble to his feet, but the lingering waves of pain—her pain—had crippled him. He couldn’t seem to be able to get anything to work right. Dear God, the horrific agony she was enduring and he was helpless. Goddamn helpless while those bastards had their hands on her again.

  “Nathan, goddamn it, talk to me!” Van shouted.

  “Get off me! Just get away from me. Give me a minute.”

  Donovan backed off but Joe remained down, his hand locked around Nathan’s shoulder.

  “Let me help you up,” Joe said in a low voice. “Then tell us what happened. We’re wasting time, man. Push through it. She needs your help. It was her, wasn’t it? Do you want me to try to get through to her?”

  Joe’s words cut through the lingering pain and confusion and already Shea had faded away, gone from him, the blank void he’d grown to hate so much replacing the overwhelming torment.

  His mind went quiet. So damn quiet. He preferred the agony over this blanket of silence because at least then he’d had a connection with her. He’d heard her. And now there was nothing.

  He grasped Joe’s hand and hauled himself upward. For a moment he staggered and leaned into his brother. Joe wrapped his arm around Nathan’s shoulders and simply held on.

  As soon as he got his bearings, he turned and stalked back into the house, leaving Joe and Donovan to call after him. He barged into the kitchen, where Resnick still sat there smoking that damn cigarette while Shea was in the hands of people who had brutalized her.

  “You son of a bitch!” Nathan roared.

  He knocked the cigarette from Resnick’s mouth in one punch. Resnick went sprawling to the floor and Nathan went down after him. The kitchen erupted in chaos as Resnick’s men attempted to intervene.

  Sam and Garrett pulled their guns while Donovan and Joe attempted to pry Nathan from Resnick.

  It took the combined efforts of Donovan, Joe and Swanny to finally get Nathan off Resnick. No one made a move to help the man from the floor. He slowly picked himself up, wincing at the injury to his arm that was still unattended. He wiped at the blood that streamed from his nose and mouth and he backed up until he leaned against the counter.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Resnick demanded. “You’re supposed to be out looking for Shea.”

  Nathan lunged for him again and Sam placed his body between his brother and Resnick, his gaze boring into Nathan.

  “He went crazy outside,” Donovan explained. “Something happened to Shea, and he went nuts and stomped in here to kick the shit out of Resnick. Not that I have a problem with that, but I’d like to know what the fuck is going on.”

  “That makes two of us,” Garrett spoke up.

  “You did this to her,” Nathan choked out. “You stupid son of a bitch. You took away her only means of self-defense. Those goddamn drugs you gave her make using her telepathy impossible. She’s in unimaginable pain every time she tries to communicate. You can’t imagine the agony she’s enduring.”

  Resnick went white and he looked like he was going to be ill. “No, that’s not what should have happened. It’s experimental, yes, but there haven’t been any side effects. It just prevents a person from focusing enough to maintain a telepathic connection.”

  “I felt what she’s feeling,” Nathan yelled. “She felt like her head was going to explode, like something was breaking inside her skull, but she bore it
to reach out to me because those assholes have her again. Do you have any idea what they did to her the last time they had her?”

  Resnick slowly shook his head, his face going paler by the second.

  “They beat her. They tortured her. For days she endured hell because she wouldn’t give them information about Grace. After she escaped, she asked me for help. She’d tried to do so before, but they kept her too drugged to maintain a pathway. And now because you’re a stupid fuck, she’s back in their hands and she can’t give me any goddamn information because you shot her full of drugs that prevent her from using her gift.”

  Resnick’s hand shook as he dragged it through his hair. “You have to know I didn’t intend for this to happen.”

  “I don’t know anything,” Nathan snapped. “You claim to care about her. You think she might be your sister. Where the fuck do you get your idea of family from? What is wrong with you?”

  “Save the insults, okay? I fucked up. I just wanted to protect her. I had no idea that you and she were involved. I didn’t even know how the hell she ended up with KGI. I thought I could remove her without having to explain anything. I wanted to protect her and Grace without anyone finding out about their abilities. I still don’t know how she got involved with you or how she knew to ask you for help.”

  “Because she saved me,” Nathan said in a fierce voice. “She heard me out of all the other voices in the world and she answered. We formed a bond long before we ever met face-

  to-face, and I’ll be damned if I let you or anyone else break it.”

  Joe slid his hand over Nathan’s shoulder again. “No one’s going to do anything. We’ll get Shea back.”

  Just hearing the conviction in his brother’s voice settled Nathan. As he glanced around the room at his other brothers and Steele and his team members, he saw the same conviction in every one of their faces.

  Garrett turned to Resnick, his eyes so cold they’d freeze a polar bear. “It’s time for you to start talking. We need every piece of information you have on this lab where you and Shea were conceived or created or whatever the fuck you want to call it. We need names, organizations, and we need to know who’d have an interest in them now. Or who would even know about them.”

 

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