Two school officials met us as we entered the room. A dark-skinned woman of unidentifiable race, medium height, and close-cropped hair offered Patrick her hand. “Welcome. I’m Verlene Haskell, the principal here. Thank you so much for coming. The kids have talked about nothing else since we told them. But we agreed with the Secret Service to move things in here after what happened this morning. More containable. The rest of the kids are watching on closed-circuit TV in their individual classrooms. I really appreciate you making the time to show them a piece of history in person.” Her words were firm and her expression unreadable like her ethnicity, but she had kind eyes that made me feel she was sincere.
After a quick introduction to her vice principle, Ms. Jeppson, a short, round woman with apple cheeks and a ready smile that didn’t quite reach her hazel eyes, Ms. Haskell led Patrick and me to the front of the room. Keene stayed behind, scanning the group.
“Would you like to join us, Shelli?” Ms. Haskell said to a small girl who was in the corner near a large plastic kitchen. Shelli nodded, tossed something into a basket containing fake food, and found her seat.
Ms. Haskell presented us to the children, then indicated two chairs where we could sit as we addressed them. I slid into one, but Patrick remained standing, beginning his presentation in an animated voice with large gestures. The littlest students at the front were rapt, staring in wonder as he told about the Unbounded and what he hoped to see happen in the world. One little girl with short, wiry hair tamed into two pigtails came to sit on my lap. I nearly laughed in surprise, but I put my arms around her.
I glanced up to see Keene staring at me from the corner with the play kitchen, a wistful smile on his face. I knew what he felt. This was normal. Well, not the cameras or the Secret Service, but these children. The normal, everyday experience of going to school with a variety of kids was something he’d never experienced while growing up with the Emporium where he’d been trained so differently in just about everything.
He winked and heat rushed through me. For an instant, numbers representing both places and colors exploded in my vision. Then he bent down and picked something up from the basket of plastic food, breaking the connection. My arms tightened around the little girl.
As Patrick started wrapping up, my phone vibrated in the pocket of my jacket, and I was surprised to see that it was Cort. I slid the little girl off my lap and encouraged her to return to her seat. She gave me a small smile as she obeyed. The vibration on my phone stopped.
Patrick glanced at me but didn’t miss a beat as I retreated to the hallway where two Secret Service officers we hadn’t seen before stood guard, a tall, big-boned woman, and a man who was equally as tall but pole-thin. Keene joined me as I called Cort back.
“Can you talk?”
“Yeah, I’m with my brother and two Secret Service agents.” I smiled at the agents, but they didn’t look my way.
“Better connect Keene in then.”
“Okay.” I did as he asked. “He’s on with us. What’s up?”
“I know you have people listening, so I’ll do all the talking. We’ve pinpointed a sniper on the roof of the building next to the school, well hidden from the counter-sniper unit.”
A shiver ran through me. Something told me this was the last school Patrick was ever supposed to visit.
I PACED DOWN THE HALL, grateful the Secret Service didn’t follow me, though their eyes were on me now. Maybe if I stayed in sight they’d keep their distance.
“Stella did a thorough sweep of the cameras in the area,” Cort continued, “and she can’t identify any other reason for the man to be up there, unless he’s gunning for Patrick. She’s going through more data now, but he’s been there since just after you arrived. No idea if it’s connected to what happened at the house this morning, but we need you to stay inside the school until Jace can catch up to him.”
“We can do that,” I said.
Cort cleared his throat. “There is another concern. So far, all we turned up with that van you recorded this morning is an empty garage that was rented out last week. They paid cash. Our greatest concern is that the attack this morning shows desperation and a willingness to escalate. If we’re right about the sniper, it’s likely Patrick won’t be the only target because a bullet won’t kill him. The sniper’s purpose will be to create enough distraction to get to him so they can finish the job.”
Keene’s strides as he paced around me were short, his body rigid. “There are more snipers then, or at least one more, and they’ll shoot anything in sight. They’ll also have a car with drivers to grab Patrick once he’s down.”
“That’s our bet.” Cort’s voice was tight like Keene’s pacing. “With so many Secret Service around, it’ll have to be fast.”
“The bystander casualties don’t sound like Hunters, though,” Keene said.
I stepped in front of Keene so he’d have to stop pacing. “Looks like mortals are evolving too. Survival of the fittest.” No matter how any of us felt about it, the Hunters’ idea of getting rid of all Unbounded would save the human race every bit as much as the Renegade plan to vanquish the Emporium.
“Needless to say,” Cort said, “capturing the sniper and bringing him in for questioning would be a real break. Problem is, Jace is still some distance away, and the sniper will know something’s up if Patrick doesn’t come out soon. The guy already looks really nervous on the footage we have, and he may abandon his post. We have no idea where the other snipers may be, so even without him, they may accomplish their goal.”
“I’ll go,” I said. “I can get to him in time, and make him tell me where the others are. Keene can stay with Patrick.” I almost expected someone to object, but no one did, though Keene didn’t look too happy.
“Just be careful,” Cort said. “I’m sending his coordinates to your phone, and several aerial photographs to help you orient yourself. But turn on your radio. I’ll stay in contact with Keene, and he’ll communicate with you, provided you stay in range.”
“All right.” I hung up and began looking for a bathroom where I could make the shift to the outside. I knew just the place, over by the playground slides. I could see the location in my mind and knew that none of the agents watching the outside of the school would see me there.
“Better tell Patrick to talk longer,” I said to Keene. “Have him tell how he and I met, or something. Maybe how he and the president’s biological son were switched at birth by the evil Emporium.” I was mostly kidding about this last, because while much of the world knew Patrick had been switched, the Emporium’s roll in that act had not been publicized.
“Mari,” Keene began, his hand touching my arm and sliding down a few inches.
“I’ll shift out if I need to.” I wanted to urge him to use his ability to enhance mine. Maybe with that kind of power I could shift us both. But Patrick needed Keene here, and besides, Keene wouldn’t risk blowing me up for something he knew I’d been trained for. I could do this alone.
“See you in a few.” I ducked into the bathroom that I’d finally found halfway back to the classroom, leaving Keene to tell Patrick to drag things out.
“Looks like I’m spending all my time in bathrooms these days,” I muttered, kicking open a stall with a toilet that was smaller than normal and nearer to the ground.
I shifted before the door closed, appearing near the green tube slide. My GPS was already pointing the way, but instead, I studied Cort’s photographs. Apparently, the man was on top of the building kitty-corner to the school, not directly across or next door. I couldn’t see the top of the roof myself, just the wall around it, but the pictures showed me what was up there. All I had to do was put the two together in my mind and choose a number that would place me behind the structure that housed the stairs leading onto the roof—undoubtedly the best place for me to appear. There were other small structures on the roof, presumably for heat, air conditioning, and venting, and one of these looked like it blocked the sniper from being seen by the c
ounter-sniper team. Someone in Secret Service hadn’t been as careful as he should have been.
Pleasure swept through me as numbers came into focus. I wanted to laugh with the power of it. Even without Keene’s ability, I felt as if I could do more than before, that I understood my gift as I hadn’t earlier. But it was more promise than a full knowledge. I was looking forward to discovering the rest. I saw Cort’s blue color number, far away, and what I was pretty sure was Jace’s purple. He’d be excited that I could finally pinpoint him and would probably use it as another excuse to hit on me.
Then I was there, behind the structure I’d targeted. A cool breeze swept my hair away from my face, fresh air that made me feel alive, invigorated. Inching against the wall, I peered around it to see a man intent on the school grounds, staring through the scope of his rifle as the satellite photo had shown. I couldn’t see much of him under the sweatshirt and baseball cap, but he was shaped like a block and short blond locks curled up over the edges of his hat.
I crouched and shifted close behind him, my metal blade slipping around to the front of his throat. “Drop it, Hunter,” I growled.
He startled, his back bucking against my chest, but he let go of the rifle. I kicked it aside, digging the knife into his skin and forcing him to stay on his knees. “Careful now, you don’t want me to slip, do you?”
A trickle of sweat dripped from under the hat, despite the refreshing breeze. “D-don’t slip,” he stuttered.
“You mean like you were going to slip on that trigger?” No response. “Where’s the other man?” I asked.
His body stiffened, telling me we were right. “There’s no one but me,” he said, much too late.
“You’re lying.” I dragged the knife across his skin, not breaking it. Not yet. If I was truthful, a part of me was eager to cut him, to make him pay. He was like Trevor, after all. It scared me a little, my fascination with knives, the call they had for me. How easily I could hurt someone. “I’m going to ask you one more time and then I’m going to have a little fun with my knife.” I could smell his fear, and I wasn’t too sure that he hadn’t wet himself. Nausea rose in my throat. No. I didn’t want to hurt this man. I didn’t have to give in to the knife’s temptation. That wasn’t me.
“Mari,” Keene’s voice said in my ear. “Jace is almost there, but they haven’t located a sign of anyone else. We’re thinking maybe we were wrong.”
“Oh, there’s another man. I’m sure of it.”
The Hunter’s eyes rolled up to look at me, blue with altogether too much white. He must think I was crazy talking to myself.
“Well, where?” Keene sounded impatient.
Withdrawing the knife, I shoved the Hunter around, my foot slamming into his chest as he twisted on his knees. He had high cheekbones, flushed now, and chiseled features that most women found handsome, but his mouth was small and mean, and his eyes full of hatred. I had no doubt he’d cut me in three as easily as he’d have pulled that trigger on Patrick. On the children.
The Hunter grabbed the straps of a duffel bag lying next to him and threw it at me as he lunged to his feet. His trajectory was good, and he would have hit me hard, maybe hard enough to drop the knife, but all the brute force in the world was useless against someone who wasn’t there.
I reappeared at his side, pounding my right fist into his cheek. He dived for me again, and this time I let the hungry knife cut through the long sleeve of his T-shirt, digging deep. He screamed and grabbed at the wound as I hit into him again, knocking him to the ground. This time I pulled my compact pistol from the holster tucked inside the back of my skirt. I didn’t know what it was about men that they feared guns more than knives. Knives could cause so much more pain. Slow death. Guns were far too quick. But whatever it took.
“Where’s your buddy?” I put my foot on his chest, pinning him to the roof.
He sobbed and covered his head. “Don’t shoot me. Don’t shoot me!”
“What about the children?” I could almost see them in my mind, falling to the ground, roses of red blossoming on their small bodies. “You were going to hurt them.”
“No! I promise!”
“I don’t believe you.” I leaned more weight on his chest as it bucked with his sobs. “Tell me where your friend is. I won’t ask nicely again.”
I heard a crunch on the rooftop behind me. “I’m right here.”
I turned, spying a big man with a long, strawberry blond mane and so much facial hair, I couldn’t see anything but blue eyes, a bit of pale cheeks, and a wide nose with huge nostrils. He was dressed in jeans and a navy-blue plaid shirt that probably would have been too large for Santa Claus. The gun in his hand was a lot bigger than my nine mil.
“Keene, I found him,” I said.
The man squeezed his trigger.
BURNING PAIN SLICED INTO MY upper arm as I reappeared behind the big man. Fortunately, he was a lousy shot. Unfortunately, I hadn’t shifted fast enough to avoid the bullet. Deep red poured down the powder blue of my right sleeve. My fingers lost their grip on my gun, and it clunked to the ground. Unlike with my knives, I wasn’t nearly as good shooting with my left, so I didn’t bother to pick it up. The big man started to turn.
“What’s happening?” Keene shouted in my ear.
Ignoring him, I kicked hard, whipping around to jab my foot into the side of the Hunter’s knee. He went down with a satisfying crunch, his weight working in my favor. But there was still his gun. I shifted to his other side as he tried to aim at me.
My arm felt numb now, as though my body was so overloaded on pain that it couldn’t feel at all.
Good.
Lashing out with another right kick, I sent his gun clattering over the rooftop. He roared and lunged to his feet, his good knee holding his weight. I punched him hard in the stomach, but my blow bounced off without seeming to hurt him in the least.
Remind me not to pick a fight with Santa Claus, I thought.
Keene shouted in my ear, “Jace is almost there!”
“Shut up! I’m trying to concentrate.” I was so going to thump him hard the next time I saw him.
The big Hunter kept coming, arms wide as if to crush me to death. I threw my larger knife from the sheath on my leg. The metal sang as it embedded into the softness of his belly. He howled and clutched at it. I had another knife ready, but he backed away, nearly collapsing when he stepped down on his bad knee.
“Run and I’ll put this in the back of your neck,” I threatened. The numbness in my arm was fading now. Lurking somewhere was an agony I knew I’d have to embrace sooner or later.
A noise made me shift instinctively. I appeared once more behind the big man, expecting to see the first sniper with a gun in his hand. Instead, it was Jace, a grin on his face that was almost happy. He stood over the first sniper, one gun pointed down at him and another at Santa Claus.
My shoulders sagged and the pain finally came—blinding, white hot. I bit my lip to keep from crying out.
“Sorry I didn’t get here sooner,” Jace said.
I reached for numbers, focusing on them to push back the pain. “I managed.”
“Yeah. You barely saved any for me.” He sounded disappointed.
I stepped closer to Santa Claus, who was trembling, his breath coming in gasps. He’d balled up his plaid shirt and was holding it against his wound, my knife still inside him. “They’ve seen me shift, and we have enough problems.” Without mortals having proof of our abilities, I meant.
“We’ll get them to Ava and Erin after we question them. They’ll never remember meeting us.” Jace’s grin became sinister.
The big man didn’t resist as I guided him to his knees and pushed my knife against the front of his neck. The sun glinted off the blade, turning it bright with promise. Ever beckoning. “Are there any more snipers?” I asked the Hunter.
“Oh, just kill him,” Jace said. “I know how you love to play with your knives. I’ll get the information from this one.” He waved a gun over the spraw
led man’s heart.
Jace was bluffing, of course. We would kill them if we had to, but only in self-defense, not for information. Lucky for them, we weren’t Emporium.
“One more!” huffed the big man. “Over . . . in that building. Third . . . window . . . on right.” He flung out an arm before bringing his hand back to his stomach wound.
Jace scowled. “Great.”
“You hear that?” I said to Keene. “Don’t let Patrick leave.” To Jace, I added, “I’ll go.”
“You have enough of a view to shift?” Jace looked doubtfully across the space that separated us from the apartment building.
I nodded. It’d be better if I knew the layout, but if I started to shift into a wall, I could change the number during the shift.
“What about your arm?” Jace asked.
I looked down. The bright red flow might have reduced somewhat as my increased metabolism rushed to repair the wound, but it’d be a few hours until I was really okay. A shot of curequick would help matters greatly. “I’ll be fine. I won’t stop to chit chat with him. But maybe you should keep questioning these guys. Just in case.”
Again the evil grin. “My pleasure.”
“I swear that’s all,” said the sprawled man next to Jace. “Please, my arm’s bleeding an awful lot. Can I wrap my shirt around it?”
“Fine.” Jace stepped back, still keeping guns on both men. Guns that he really didn’t need. He could end both men with a few choice punches. But he wouldn’t. I’d seen him lose the contents of his stomach after a fight, and while he hadn’t done that in a while, death still affected him deeply. He enjoyed practicing his ability in a fair fight, and winning battles against Emporium agents, but he didn’t enjoy hurting mortals, even Hunters.
Lethal Engagement Page 9