Police and private investigators had searched far and wide for the boy. None of them had found him. Taylor didn’t have to wonder just how a boy of fifteen had evaded law enforcement officials. The man in front of him looked to be the type who could do almost anything he needed to. Hide, flee, steal, kill.
As Tucker came striding toward him, the air around them went hot and tight, and although there wasn’t a cloud in the sky, it seemed like there was a storm dancing on the horizon.
Alex leaned in closer to him, and absently, Taylor reached up, rested a hand on the boy’s shoulder.
“He thinks you’re taking me away,” Alex said softly.
“Don’t worry about it,” Taylor promised even as he shifted his body to guard the boy a little better.
Taige was just two feet away. If he had to have this confrontation here and now, he figured Taige was a decent person to have with him. She was one of his bloodhounds, but she also had a decent telekinetic gift and one she’d honed into a weapon. Hopefully they wouldn’t have to do anything out in the open, but Tucker Collins was a wild card. Taylor could read people pretty damn well, and he suspected Tucker was willing to do anything and everything to accomplish his goals.
“I’m not going with him,” Alex said softly. “He wants to take me back to Florida . . . or somewhere. There’s a woman. It has something to do with a woman. I don’t know her. She can’t help me.”
Abruptly, Tucker stopped in his tracks, and even though he was ten feet away, Taylor suspected he’d heard the kid. Alex gulped and Taylor squeezed his shoulder. He wanted to tell the kid not to worry, but it was a waste of breath. At this point, he was a little worried. He had some level of control over his agents—usually—but Tucker wasn’t one of his and control was out the window and screaming on its way down to earth.
“Kid . . . stay out of my head,” Tucker said, his voice quiet, despite the fact that it managed to carry over the distance that separated them.
Alex flinched.
Taige snorted. “Oh, take a flying leap, pal. He’s not in your head. He’s still trying to learn some control and all those random thoughts are out there like bits and pieces of a song. You don’t want him hearing anything? Then you better just stop thinking until he knows how to close all those doors.”
Tucker cut a glance her way and his eyes narrowed.
She just smiled serenely at him.
As he went to take a step in her direction, she angled her head to the side. “Nah. I think I like you better there, pal.”
Taylor felt that. That odd twist when she was using her abilities. He wasn’t psychic, but as much time as he spent around them, he knew how to recognize when they were using their gifts, and he suspected the reason Tucker had stopped was because he had no choice.
“I don’t like it when people pull shit like that,” Tucker said. His voice was neutral. But that odd, heavy feeling, like a storm surging closer and closer, increased.
“Promise me you’ll be a good boy and I won’t.” Taige shrugged, looking unconcerned. “I heard about what went down in Orlando, you know. Word travels. We heard reports of somebody fitting your description on the scene there and I have an idea of what happened with the slave ring, too. I have my own theories on what you can do, so unless you plan on behaving? You can keep your distance.”
The lights in the parking lot all flashed on, burning hot and bright—so hot, they exploded. People screamed in surprise. Alex flinched. Taylor clenched his jaw as he watched the display play out between Taige and Tucker. Taige just smirked. “You think that is going to freak me out, buddy?”
“Nah. I think you’re too stupid to be freaked out. But you can take it as a warning . . . I don’t need to be close—”
He didn’t get another word out, and Taylor sighed. If anybody else had been standing close, they’d see what he saw. The way Tucker’s throat went in, like an invisible hand was squeezing it. In a way, that’s exactly what it was. Taige’s gift . . . the way she’d honed her telekinesis into an offensive skill. He’d actually been at the receiving end of it a time or two and it wasn’t pleasant.
“I don’t need to be close, either. Thanks to the demonstration, I can feel what it’s like when you’re . . . amping up.” Taige smiled.
Tucker’s face was turning red now. But unlike a lot of people, he wasn’t clawing at his throat. Wasn’t struggling to get away from something he couldn’t see. Control. The man’s control was something else, Taylor mused.
“Now, I’m going to let go and hope you’ll see the sense in all of us playing nice,” Taige said softly. “And please . . . don’t swear around the kid, and keep in mind, he’s been through more hell than most of us can imagine.”
She released her grip on him, although the only obvious signs were the slow return of normal color to Tucker’s face and his one, single gulp of air. He continued to glare at her, his eyes like black death on her face. “Woman, you’ve got no idea the hells I can imagine,” he said quietly.
“Point taken,” she said, inclining her head. “But whatever hell you can imagine, whatever you’ve been through, does it justify scaring him? Making it any worse on him than you have to?”
* * *
THANKS to Tucker’s little temper tantrum, they ended up leaving the McDonald’s and buying some KFC. It worked out better anyway, Jones figured, even if the food was a heart attack waiting to happen. He’d gotten used to having more junk food in his diet, thanks to Dez, and he managed to eat it without grimacing. Much.
Alex, though, he seemed to inhale the food in front of him. As long as Tucker wasn’t looking at him.
Finally, they finished eating and Taylor had the boy gather things up to throw away in one of the nearby trash cans. It was safe enough to let him walk around. Taige would know if it wasn’t.
As Alex left the table, they all mutually stayed quiet until he was out of hearing range, although he never once left their sight. “Any chance I can talk you into coming back in for a while to help with him?” Taylor asked softly.
Taige made a face at him. “I’m not the only one who has a handle on the kind of shit he has in his head, you know. You’ve got others. Use them. Sync me up to Joss and have him do it.”
Taylor shook his head. “Joss is all wrong for the kid right now. He needs . . .”
Taige grimaced and looked away. “I know what he needs. Let’s get things settled first.” Without saying anything else on the matter, she looked at Tucker. “You’re not taking that kid. I don’t care who you’re working for, who she is, what her claim on him is—”
“Do you all ever talk to each other?” he asked, cutting her off. “I’m working with Nalini. She asked me to keep an eye on him, but that agreement never involved me letting the FBI get their hands on him. He’s just a kid.”
“Nalini?”
Taylor smoothed his tie down. “Another freelancer, Morgan. But she got with Tucker here on her own. I have no idea what her agenda is.”
She shrugged. “Fine, whatever.” She looked back at Tucker. “Yeah, he’s just a kid. But he’s a kid who has the ability to kill somebody with his mind. He needs to be trained before he does just that.”
From the corner of his eye, Taylor saw Tucker’s reaction. Or lack of. It was a very careful lack of. “It’s likely if he did do just that, it would be somebody who deserved it,” Tucker finally said after a long, tense silence.
“Not the way he’s been forced to use his gift,” Taylor said. “He’s got a knack for picking up on danger and his . . . guardian, uncle, whatever . . . knows it. He’s been using the kid as a walking, talking lie detector.”
Tucker tensed.
Taylor turned his head and looked at the other man. “One of the people he had the boy read was Vaughnne. Alex told me about it. He wasn’t careful enough and she collapsed.”
Alex glanced over their way, and Taylor gave him an easy smile, keeping his surface thoughts neutral. The kid gave him a weak smile. “What do we do, Tucker? Let him go around, b
arely controlling a gift that could kill people?” He rose from the table, still watching Alex. “Some of you learn control easier than others. Out of necessity, maybe, or because it’s in your makeup. He’s not learning it and he’s going to get stronger over the next few years.”
“So you . . . what? Imprison him?” Tucker’s mouth twisted and the air went hot, tight once more.
“No.” Taylor tucked his hands into his pockets. “There’s a far cry between imprisoning a person and training him. Once he’s trained, he’ll be a weapon in his own right and he can watch out for himself. But for now, he’s not just a hazard to others around him. He’s a hazard to himself. And you saw that for yourself. Those men who tracked him down were trailing him. You know that.”
“He’s just a damned kid,” Tucker said, his voice rough.
“So was I,” Taige said softly. “I was a kid when it came on me. I bet you were, too. My daughter? She’s just a couple years older than Alex is, and she may well be as strong as he is. And I can tell you this . . . she’s better adjusted, better controlled, and far less likely to attract the wrong attention from people, because she has been trained. So . . . what would you do? Let him out loose in the world where he’s hunted . . . again? Or have him trained, and protected while that takes place?”
“His parents should get to decide that,” Tucker said, and then he swore, turning away. “Shit. He doesn’t have any, I’m betting, does he?”
“We don’t know. He isn’t telling us and I’m not prying,” Taige said softly. “He’s got the guy we left back in Atlanta, and I think he’s family, but that’s not the same as parents, I know. I know he cares about him, and I know he’s doing his best. But his best isn’t getting that kid trained, and at some point, Alex needs to decide . . . does he want to be a walking, talking lie detector or would he like to learn to use what he has before the gift gets out of hand and he damages somebody? What will that do to him, huh? You got any idea, electro-boy?”
Tucker sneered at her. “If he’s damaging somebody that’s trying to damage him, more power to him.”
“And if he’s damaging somebody who isn’t trying to hurt him?” she demanded. “What then? Can you imagine being a kid and knowing that you hurt somebody who had never once done a damn thing to you?”
Something flickered across Tucker’s face, darkened his eyes. That dark, dark brown deepened to near black and his expression went tight. Finally, he turned away.
“What does he want?” Tucker asked softly.
“Why don’t you try asking him?”
Tucker glanced at him, and then as one, they all turned to look over at the river where Alex was. Or had been. Taylor kept from jumping, barely, as he realized that Alex had closed the distance between them, in complete silence. With a dark, sad look in his eyes, the kid focused on Tucker. “I’m doing what I want.” Then he looked over at Taylor. “I want to call my uncle. He’s worried.”
* * *
HER skin prickled. The buzz was unmistakable, and although she saw nothing when she craned around in the seat, Vaughnne knew they’d picked up a tail.
Hopefully it was the white Explorer.
Hopefully.
She didn’t want to think that they had more than one group following them just then.
Sighing, she reached down into the floorboard and pulled up Gus’s bag. She looked over just as he glanced at her. “We’ve got company coming,” she said sourly. “I don’t know how far off they are, but I can feel them.”
A black brow winged up as he shifted his attention back to the road. “How come you can feel it now but not back when we stopped for gas?”
“Could be a variety of reasons,” she said, shrugging. “There were a bunch of people—that makes it harder for me to single anything out. It could be they are searching for me, so they aren’t shielding as hard. My only real psychic ability is telepathy. It’s . . . well, I guess you can call it my active gift. But a lot of us have some limited passive skills that allow us to sense this sort of thing. We just feel different. If whoever it is isn’t shielding, or isn’t shielding as much? He’ll stand out more and I’m more likely to pick up on his vibes.”
“He?”
She made a face. “Could be a she. Gut says he, but who knows?”
“Any idea how many?”
“Nope.” She shrugged and studied the contents of the bag. It was a bad boy’s treasure trove, she decided. Weapons of beauty, for sure. And just about every damn one of them was illegal for civilian use. “I’m going to guess two, because working in teams would appear to be the MO for these goons, but for all I know, it’s four. That’s not likely, though. I doubt they’d want to split the money that many ways.”
He shrugged. “If the risk goes up, the money goes up. Mercenaries are going to be smart and bring in as many men as they need. It’s already been made clear this isn’t going to be an easy job.”
“Gee. Thanks for making me feel better.”
“If you wanted to feel better, you should have left back at the gas station. You should have left with Alex. You should have never gotten involved.” The words were grim. His face, though, was unaffected. He had that sleepy, sexy look in his eyes, and his mouth was relaxed, almost smiling.
Scary bastard.
Before she could let herself get unnerved, she looked back down into the bag and studied the weapons. “How do you want to handle this? We already know what they are doing and why. So no reason to talk to them.”
“Now, Vaughnne, it almost sounds like you’re talking about just outright killing them,” he murmured.
Her gut clenched. “That’s not what I’m talking about.” Not entirely. But if she could get them off their ass without worrying about them coming after her again . . . yeah. She could go for that.
“Do we have a few minutes before they catch up to us?”
Vaughnne sighed. “Probably.” Her gut wasn’t exactly screaming at her yet. Once it was screaming at her, they’d most likely be in sight. When they were in sight, then they’d have to make a decision—
Or not, she realized as Gus shot off the expressway. She hissed out a breath at the sudden movement, the seat belt cutting into her skin. The bruises on her made a rather loud complaint, but she bit back any sound she might have been tempted to make. After all, as Gus had said, if she’d wanted to feel better, she shouldn’t have come.
“If you can feel them, can they feel you?”
She looked around at the rather isolated bit of highway he’d decided to follow. The expressway was already fading behind them. Blowing out a breath, she said, “Yeah. They’d do better if I’m not shielding. I guess you want to use me as bait, huh?”
“I just want them to follow us.” He had an odd note in his voice.
She made a face. “Sounds like bait to me.” Didn’t matter much, she supposed. She’d done it before. She could do it again. Wasn’t anything she liked, but she could handle it. Letting her shields down wasn’t much different for her than peeling off her clothing. One layer at a time. It left her feeling exposed, just as if she’d decided to strip herself naked in the middle of a public parking lot or something, too.
And as she let the last layer of shielding drop, she was painfully, almost brutally aware of that other presence, a too-hot buzz along her senses. “Yeah,” she whispered. “They can feel me, all right.”
Gus didn’t answer.
She thought about reaching into the bag and pulling out one of the weapons, but in the end, she settled on the Glock that the Bureau had assigned to her. It was hers, and she knew the feel of it, the weight of it, how it settled in her hand. She appreciated that particular weapon rather well. “You want to give me an idea just what the plan is here?” she asked as he took a sharp left off the highway.
They were barreling down a narrow little country lane now with absolutely no regard for speed limits or anything else.
“The plan? Eliminate the threat.” A ghost of a smile danced around his lips for a second. “That
’s the plan.” His eyes seemed to take in everything, although she didn’t know how. They were driving so fast, she could barely take in anything beyond the scenery blurring around them.
“You got any idea where we are?”
“Somewhere in Louisiana, close to the Texas border. I’ve been here.” He was quiet for about five seconds and then said, “Hold on.”
That was about all the warning she had before he slammed on the brakes. It wasn’t enough of a warning and the seat belt cut into her skin once more. “Man, I really want to wallop you, and hard.”
“Wallop?”
She sneered at him as he turned down an even narrower road, winding, all but obscured by the undergrowth. Green surrounded them. “Yeah. Wallop. Hit you across that thick head of yours,” she snapped.
“A day or so ago, you called it beautiful.”
“You are beautiful.” She tugged against her seat belt and shifted around, staring out the window. “You know you’re beautiful and you use it. I think you should have been a damn female.”
He surprised her by laughing. “So I’m . . . what . . . using my masculine wiles too much?”
“You use them like a weapon. And again, you know it.” There wasn’t anybody back there, but unless they knew the road, she doubted they’d take it at the breakneck speed he’d just used. He took another road. “Just where in the hell are you going?”
“Hiding the car. Somebody used to live back here. He’s dead now, but we can use the place for cover.”
She thought about those words, wondered if she should try to get more information about whoever he was talking about. Then ultimately, figured it wasn’t worth it. “Why are we using the place for cover? Why hide the car?”
“Because if we’re going to deal with our tail, it’s better that they aren’t discovered right away,” he said simply. Abruptly, the trees opened up around them.
Vaughnne looked around, eyeing the ramshackle little building in front of her warily. That thing couldn’t even be called a cabin. “What in the hell is that?”
The Protected tfp-4 Page 26