by Jaime Rush
She stood, catching him with who-knows-what expression on his face. “What’s wrong?”
“You’re beautiful.”
He loved the way her face transformed from worry to a mix of disbelief and love. He looked at the freckles on her face, her dark green eyes and thick eyelashes beaded with water. They reminded him of the tears he’d seen her cry in their dreams. He ached that he’d caused her pain, that he would probably cause her more.
She had an intriguing mouth, lush and pink, her lower lip with its square corners. He’d loved this face for so long. He drank her in, her throat, the swell of her breasts and hardened nipples, pale skin with more freckles, nest of dark hair that was also beaded with water.
“Turn around,” she said. “You’re making me feel funny.”
“Why?” he asked, but allowed her to turn him.
She scrubbed his back, long strokes from his neck all the way down over his buttocks. “I’ve never had anyone look at me like that.”
He turned his head. “I don’t believe you.”
She laughed, a sweet sound that was nonetheless filled with cynicism. “I’m not beautiful. And until our dreams, which I don’t know if that actually counted, I was celibate.”
He selfishly liked that idea. “I bet that drove the guys crazy.”
“There were no guys. I didn’t date.”
He turned back around to look at her. Even before their encounters, she hadn’t dated, so it wasn’t his fault. “Why?”
She grabbed the shampoo bottle, squirted some into her palm, and reached up to wash his hair. Her fingers felt heavenly massaging his scalp. He leaned forward to accommodate her.
“I didn’t want to be hurt,” she said. “I lost my dad and my mom. I never wanted to lose someone I loved again. So I didn’t want to love anyone.”
At the emotion in her voice, he looked up.
“Until you,” she added.
Damn. That made his mind up. He had to keep his distance from her to keep her heart safe. How the hell was he going to do that now? He leaned back into the water to rinse out the shampoo.
“Lucas, don’t you dare close down. I’m not going to lose you.”
“Amy, I—”
She pressed her finger over his mouth. “I made the decision to stop hiding in my cocoon even when I wasn’t sure I’d ever see you again. Seeing your sketch of you dead…that didn’t change my mind. I’m sure not going to back away now that you’re here, and neither are you.”
He released a breath. In his mind he saw Amy through the years, as a shy, sweet girl, with her frown, her tears, and her happiness. How could he turn away from her? “Come here, your turn.” He reached for the shampoo.
“You’re going to be all right, Lucas.”
There was so much he hadn’t told her. She wasn’t going to like the one thing he had to say.
Pain ripped through his head. Electricity crackled through the darkness he now saw. He grabbed onto the shower head. It was happening again. In the far distance he heard her call his name, fear in her voice. He thought she was touching him but couldn’t be sure.
Images crashed into his mind, each separated by a blinding light that he swore tore into the tissues of his brain. The boy in their childhood group, then the man, fighting the straps on a bed like the one he’d been strapped to…now Petra, scared, running, being chased through the woods. Amy falling with a scream. Hitting the floor. Blood.
“Lucas!”
Her voice broke through. He opened his eyes. He was on his knees gripping the shower head that was no longer attached to the wall. The shower was off. She was crouched beside him, holding onto his arms. He dropped the shower head, and it clanged loudly.
“What happened?” she asked.
He pressed the heel of his hands against his temples to push away the residual pain. “The Booster…” It was hard to get his tongue around words. “Different.”
She turned him toward her, staring into his eyes. “What’s different?”
“I used to get the dreams…the sketches. I could do something then. But now I get…it’s like a slide show, one after the other. Too fast to see much. To do anything. And it feels like someone tasering my brain.” He grabbed her shoulders. “Petra’s in trouble. You said they were all right.”
“I said no one got caught.” She chewed her lower lip. “I didn’t want to worry you. Petra didn’t get out of the building last night. She is all right. She called and was hiding. They didn’t know she was there.”
He stood, willing his legs to stop wobbling. “She’s not all right now. Or won’t be.”
“Lucas, I don’t understand.”
“The sketches were always the future. I don’t know if these visions are future or something that’s happening now.”
“Eric went back to the asylum—”
“The asylum?”
“That’s what the hospital was once. He went back to be nearby. She’s supposed to call when she can get out.”
He stepped out of the tub. “We’ve got to get over there.”
“Eric has the only car, and that place is an hour away from here. Besides, you’re in no condition. You can hardly get your clothes on. We have to trust that Eric will handle it. If she’s running, she hasn’t been caught.”
He dried off. “But they know she’s there. They’re after her.”
Amy dried off, too, fear in her expression. “She’ll be all right.”
“You don’t know Petra. She wigs, panics. She’s not good under stress.”
“She’s gotten stronger. Come on, let’s get some food into you. I’ll tell you all about it.”
He was going to need his strength, and he had to admit that his stomach actually hurt with hunger. He let her lead him to the kitchen and watched her put ham and cheese sandwiches together. She kept looking at him with a worried expression. He wasn’t going to let her pretend he was all right.
“Tell me everything that’s happened since they took me from your apartment.”
She brought the sandwiches to the table and they ate as she told him. He felt a swell of pride at what she’d done, how she’d escaped, how she’d kneed Spy Guy in the nuts. That he didn’t remember anything about the rescue itself bothered him. He barely remembered the woman, of particular interest to Amy, but not the last time he’d been in the tub.
She said in a soft voice, “The funny thing was, I wasn’t as scared for myself as I was for you. None of that compared to seeing you unconscious.” She smiled. “And nothing compares to seeing you sitting here now.”
“Did you fall?”
She looked up in thought. “I don’t remember falling. Why?” When he didn’t answer right away, she said, “You saw me falling, didn’t you?”
He dropped the crust of his second sandwich on the plate. “So that hasn’t happened yet.”
“And it won’t. You changed the future when you saved me from that creep at the marina. What you see doesn’t always happen.”
“How do you know about that?”
“I found the sketches.”
He turned away and rubbed his temples. That time, he knew enough about the event to prevent it. With the images flashing so fast, he couldn’t see the events leading up to it. He had a bad feeling it was connected to what he had to tell her when Eric and Petra returned.
Petra stopped, her breathing heavy. The man slowed, too, eyeing her warily. He was one of the outside guards. She couldn’t take her gaze from the gun he pointed at her. He hollered, “She’s over here!” To her, he said, “Don’t move. I don’t know what you all are, but you give me the creeps. I don’t mind shooting you, even if you are a pretty gal.”
She didn’t doubt that he would shoot her. This couldn’t happen. She couldn’t let them capture her. Footsteps sounded from several directions. She still had a minute before they arrived. She dove for the ground and rolled. A shot rang out, hitting the dirt and spewing it up. She zigzagged toward the highway. He wouldn’t shoot her in front of witnesses, would
he?
Almost there. She could see the road through the last of the trees. Cars whizzed by. As soon as she ran into the open she’d wave her arms. Thwang. Another bullet flew past. She glanced back. He was trying to run and shoot at the same time, which skewed his aim. As she turned ahead, something grabbed her and threw her backward. She landed with a thump, dizzy from the sudden change in motion.
Her eyes focused. She’d run into a fence separating the forest from the highway. The guard ran up, his gun trained on her. He was gasping for breath as much as she was. Worse, she heard footsteps coming up on her right.
“Now I’m…going to have to…hurt you.” He lowered the gun to her legs.
She heard a shot. Flinched. A scream of pain. Not her scream. Not her pain. His gun flew out of his hand. Blood spurted from his wrist.
Footsteps near her head. A hand reaching toward her. “Come on.”
She jerked around to find Eric standing there. She took his hand and let him pull her to her feet. “How did you—”
“No time. Let’s go.”
She followed him along the fence line. The man’s screams covered the sound of their footsteps but also blocked her from hearing where their enemies were. Several yards away Eric climbed over a place where the fence had been torn away from the post and bent down. She saw the Camry parked along the side of the highway. Both doors were open.
Sometimes she really loved her pain-in-the-ass brother.
They jumped into the car and he pulled onto the highway. She slunk down in the seat and watched the woods to see if anyone had spotted them. She saw two men running toward the fence. Eric drove at a calm pace, glancing at the woods only briefly, his hand still gripping a gun.
“Did they see our car?” he asked.
“I don’t think so.” She pressed her face against the glass to look back. One man had jumped over the fence and was looking around, but not at their car. “I think we’re okay…Yes, we’re okay.” She allowed herself to collapse completely, her head on his thigh. “Thankyou thankyouthankyouthankyou,” she said on one breath.
He tucked the gun beneath his seat and stroked her forehead. “I remote-viewed you. I could see the woods around the facility. I saw you running. I was already in the area, ready to pick you up. Or bust you out of there.”
She gathered the strength to sit up. “How’s Lucas?”
“He woke up last night for a few minutes. Amy said he seemed good.”
“The men at the asylum kept talking about him not being around much longer.”
Eric handed her his cell phone. “Let Amy know you’re all right.”
Her fingers were still shaky as she dialed the numbers. Amy answered on the second ring, her voice breathless. “Eric!”
“It’s Petra.”
“Thank God! You’re with Eric?”
“He got there in the nick of time.” It warmed her to hear Amy’s relief at her safety. “How’s Lucas?” She so badly needed to hear that he was all right.
“Here, ask him yourself.”
Her heart lifted when she heard his voice. They both said simultaneously, in a rush of relief, “You’re all right.”
“Petra, were you running in the woods?”
“Yes, how did you know?”
“I saw you.”
“In one of your sketches?”
“No, a flash of you running. In danger. Tell Eric to drive carefully. Get back here safe.”
“We will.” Her voice got soft when she said goodbye. She slumped back in the seat with a sigh.
Eric’s fingers tightened on the wheel. “You’re going to have to give him up.” At her questioning look, he added, “He’s got Amy now.”
“What are you talking about?”
He kept his gaze straight ahead. “I know you’re in love with him. I’m just warning you that you’re going to have to let that go. He’s loved Amy for a long time. And she loves him just as much. Whatever they’ve got—and I don’t understand it—is stronger than that damn bomb shelter.”
“Was I obvious?”
His mouth quirked in a half smile. “I’m intuitive, remember?”
It was strange that he had even noticed, stranger that he’d never mentioned it until now. And strangest yet that he was trying to ease her into the harsh reality that she would never have the only man she’d ever romantically loved. “You don’t think he knows? Oh, jeez, I hope he doesn’t.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Thanks,” she whispered. She rubbed the dirt from her arms, wincing at a red mark. “I knew as soon as Amy joined us that I’d lose him. The truth is, I never had him. All I ever had was hope. Now that’s gone.”
He scrubbed the top of her head, an affectionate gesture that surprised her. She felt a bond open between them. “Eric, I’m sorry about Dad.”
His expression hardened. “He’s not my dad. I don’t want to talk about him.”
Way to go.
They sat in silence. She wondered if his hard glare was from thoughts of her father or of something else. All around them people went about their business, beeping at slow drivers, talking during their drive. Normality right there, yet so far away. Finally she couldn’t stand the silence anymore. “What’s the plan now?”
“We need to stay low for a while, try to find other Offspring, put the pieces together.”
She liked the prospect of laying low. She needed that.
Eric’s mouth tightened. “Then we’ll take that damned asylum by storm and find out what the hell they’re doing. And what they did to our mother.”
CHAPTER 25
Amy was watching Lucas sleep on the couch when she heard footsteps coming down the tunnel. He woke, too, and in a flash shot off the couch and ran to the storage room in the kitchen. “Come here,” he whispered, waving her over.
She joined him as he pulled out one of the rifles. His gaze was riveted on the door. For a moment he reminded her of Eric, ever vigilant and ready to kill. She shivered at the thought.
He kept the rifle down but his finger on the trigger. “When Eric first came to me about the government guy watching him, I thought he was being paranoid,” he said. “He was always thinking people were out to get him. But this time he was right. Now here I am, paranoid, too.”
She stood next to him in the darkened kitchen. “You have good reason to be.”
They heard beeping, and the door slid open. Petra’s eyes locked onto Lucas. He set the gun down, and he and Amy walked out of the kitchen. Petra ran into his arms, and he held her, stroking her hair. She closed her eyes, obviously relishing the sensation of being with him again. Amy felt odd, knowing how Petra felt about him. She sensed Eric looking at her from the kitchen, though he started unloading the two paper bags he’d carried in, including two boxes of Pop-Tarts—one chocolate, one strawberry—and a bag of chocolate-covered raisins. She mouthed the word Thanks. He shrugged.
Finally Lucas stepped back and looked at everyone. “We need to talk.” He nodded toward the dining table.
Petra looked at Amy as if she knew what he was going to tell them. But Amy had no idea. Whatever it was, she thought, it would be serious. She grabbed her bag of raisins.
Lucas waited until they had all taken a seat, though he remained standing. Just as she tossed a raisin in the air, he said, “We’ve got to go back to the hospital.” He glanced at Amy. “The asylum.”
The raisin bounced to the floor. “No,” she said, a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.
The blood had drained from Petra’s face. “No way.”
Eric narrowed his eyes. “Why?”
Lucas walked over to the board above the desk and took down the photograph of the children by the pool. He pointed to the boy. “Rand.”
Amy said, “I saw his profile on Cyrus’s computer.”
“They brought him in while I was there. In one of my visions I saw him strapped to a table like I was. They’re using his grandmother, threatening her safety if he doesn’t cooperate.”
; Eric asked, “What do they want him to do?”
Amy asked, “What did they want you to do?”
“It’s political stuff. Spying.” Somehow she knew he wasn’t telling them everything; he’d turned away while answering. He continued. “They’re giving him something that’s making him nuts in a different way than what they gave me. He’s stressing big-time.”
Petra said, “That’s what the woman meant when she said her boss still had another prisoner.”
Lucas nodded. “He’s one of us.” He slapped the photo down in the middle of the table. “We can’t abandon him.”
Eric banged his palm on his forehead. “Oh, no, don’t tell me you have abandonment issues, too!”
Lucas’s eyebrows furrowed. “Huh?”
Eric pointed at Amy with his thumb. “She drove me crazy about not leaving you there. Then she had to get the car Cyrus left just because he’d left it for her. Now she wants to get some stupid parrot. This girl has abandonment issues. We can’t risk our asses getting things because we can’t stand to abandon them.”
Lucas looked at her with such soft emotion she felt it in the pit of her stomach. He turned back to Eric. “She lost her mother and her father before she was six years old. Maybe she does have abandonment issues. I can’t blame her for that. Do I have them? Who knows? But I will tell you, I’m not leaving Rand there. I know what the Devil is capable of.”
“The Devil?” Petra asked.
“That’s what I called the guy in charge.”
Petra said, “I think his name is Darkwell.”
Eric pinched the bridge of his nose. “How do we even know Rand will trust us? He doesn’t know who we are.”
“Because we’re a better bet than the people who have him now.”
“And it’s not only Darkwell we have to worry about,” Petra said. “The enemy Offspring can remote view, though apparently only to me. We have some kind of connection, like you and Amy, only a bad one. Figures. That’s how they found me at the asylum. They call him their ‘star Offspring.’ Darkwell told him he probably has other skills—like yours, Eric. He’s eager to work on them, and…practice on us.”