by Jaime Rush
CHAPTER 5
“T
ime to go.” Cheveyo’s voice pulled Zoe from a dream of a black panther about to bite her neck. Her eyes snapped open. He was leaning over her, impatience on his features.
Why was she still so dog tired? She looked at the clock on the nightstand in the rathole hotel in Florida that they’d stopped at when she couldn’t hold on anymore. “I’ve only been asleep for two hours!”
“Two hours longer than we had. If I hadn’t been worried about you falling off, I would have pushed on.”
“We wouldn’t have this problem if you had a car. My butt hurts. My body is still vibrating.”
“Let’s go.”
The man had no sense of compassion…well, other than saving her life. She pulled herself off the bed with a groan, grabbed her bag, and went into the bathroom. “I need a shower.”
“No time,” he said. “Don’t make me go in there and drag you out.”
By the stern look on his face, he meant it.
“You took a shower.” She didn’t even try to curtail the whine in her voice.
“And you slept. We make our choices. Move it.”
With a petulant look, she slammed the door shut. “Ohhh,” she said when she saw her reflection in the mirror. Yuck. She went to the sink, washed her face, and started applying makeup.
A bang on the door made her drop her eyeliner. “What’s the holdup?”
She opened the door with narrowed eyes. “I’ll be right out.”
“We don’t have time for getting pretty.”
She finished her other eye and slapped on some lipstick. “I need this. Just a speck of normalcy.” A speck of control would be nice, too. She slung her bag over her shoulder and walked out.
“You’ll be giving up normalcy for a while.”
Those words darkened her heart. “Please, tell me what’s going on. I need to know.”
He walked to the window and peered out. “No time for that, either. You’ll find out everything when you get to Annapolis. Let’s move.”
She wanted to scream. Whenever they’d stopped, she peppered him with questions. He kept telling her that this group of people would answer everything. He had told her very little about himself, about why he’d saved her, how he even knew where she was. Just as Steele had found her twice, Cheveyo had also found her. Now he was taking her to people who were supposed to be like her, whatever that meant. It wasn’t as comforting as he obviously thought it should be.
“Wait. How many of these people like us are there?”
“I don’t know how many altogether. There are five where I’m taking you. Seven, including us. But there are others.”
“How did you do that…that panther thing? That’s the least you can tell me.” Because that was just plain freaky.
He reached for the door. “I change my energy. Manipulate it.”
“Can you change into anything?”
“Just a panther. It’s my animal spirit.” He walked to the bike.
She followed. “You’re Native American?”
“Part Hopi.”
“How will these people feel about you dumping me on them?”
“I think they’ll be fine. You’re one of them.”
“Did you say you think? What does that mean, you think?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know what their reaction will be. I’ve never met them.” He started to put on his helmet, but she grabbed his arm.
“You’re dropping me off with people you don’t even know?”
“You’ll be fine, as long as they don’t shoot first and ask questions second.” This time he did put on his helmet and started the bike.
Great. That would give her plenty to think about for the next several hours.
Petra Aruda woke in the night. She sat up in bed, looking around the darkness. No windows, no way to tell whether it was day or night. Like sleeping in a damned coffin. The clock read 2:28, and she was pretty sure it wasn’t in the afternoon. She slid out of bed and pulled on pajamas she’d ordered from Victoria’s Secret. As she walked down the hallway, the cool air tickled her bare stomach. She ran her hand across her skin, not sure why she was even up or where she was going.
“Hey,” a male voice whispered from the kitchen, startling her. “Everything okay?”
She spun to find Rand Brandenburg pouring a glass of water. With his spiky hair and piercings, he was…well, interesting. If you liked punk-rocker-looking guys. “I’m going outside. I need fresh air and open space.”
When the words came out, she knew that was what had driven her out of bed. The need to get out of the bomb shelter, the tomb, as she called it, crawled through her like a swarm of ants. It was a great hiding place, except for being underground without any windows.
He studied her. “You’re not sleepwalking, are you?”
She laughed. “Lucid as can be.”
“Be careful,” he said.
Well, duh. Like I don’t know that already. “I’ll only be a few minutes.”
She unlocked the thick steel door and walked down the tunnel, then climbed the ladder and pushed open the trapdoor in the old shed, their secret entrance. She stepped outside and took a deep breath. The world! Stars and the moon and the breeze that moved through the nearby line of bamboo like the patter of rain. The steady hum of traffic and the sky glowing from the town lights as though it was twilight. It was heavenly, delightful, and—
A hand pressed against her mouth. An arm slipped around her waist, and she was pulled against a hard male body. A voice whispered next to her ear: “Don’t scream. I brought you outside because I have an Offspring who needs your help.”
She twisted and tried to kick, panic welling up in her throat, but the man held her in a tight grip. She was going to die! Or get strapped down and injected with some terrible substance. She would never see Lucas and Eric and Amy again!
A woman almost as tall as Petra stepped out from behind the shed, and her anxiety was clear, even in the moonlight. “He’s all right. We just didn’t want you to scream. He saved me from some guy named Steele who was trying to kill me.”
Petra could hardly grasp the woman’s words; she felt a heat that verged on fire where her body met the man’s. He smelled of fresh air and sweat, all male and oddly arousing. Really odd, considering the circumstances.
Get a grip. What did the woman say? Some guy was trying to kill her? Steele? The same Steele who’d come after them? And had he said “Offspring”?
He whispered, “Petra, we’re not the enemy. Understand?”
His breath tickled her ear, sending chills down her neck. She nodded. He released her, and she spun around to face him. She put her hand to her heart to calm its racing.
They weren’t grabbing her and dragging her off somewhere. She cleared her throat. “Let’s go into the garage.”
They followed her to the small, detached building. She squinted in the harsh light, taking in the two strangers, who looked road weary. He was gorgeous: thick, dark hair and a muscular body. The woman’s dark red hair set off creamy skin; she was lean, with few curves, and yet there was something sensual about her. She had a ring tattoo, a dark red shirt with a skull on it, black jeans, and brown sneakers. Her arms were wrapped around her waist in a protective gesture, her expression wary.
“I’m Cheveyo,” he said, capturing her attention. “This is Zoe.”
Zoe was pulling her fingers through her thick hair, a grimace on her face, when she realized he’d introduced her. “Sorry. It feels like there are scorpions in my hair. Having that helmet on for hours sends prickles all over my scalp.”
Petra turned to Cheveyo. “You know my name.” She just now realized that.
“I know a lot more than that.”
“What do you mean?”
He waved that away. “That’s not important.” His hair was in a ponytail that fell beyond his shoulders, and he had blue-gray eyes with an exotic slant to them. She guessed he was of Native American descent, though not complet
ely. His gaze took her in, making her aware she was wearing midriff-revealing PJs. She flattened her hand on her bare stomach.
He leaned against the Toyota, arms loosely crossed in front of him. “Sorry about the whole grabbing-you-in-the-dark thing. Like Zoe said, I didn’t want to startle you and draw attention.”
There was something about him. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but it crackled through her body like sparks of lightning.
“It’s…okay,” she said, trying to push past that distraction. Of their own volition, her hands starting working, cracking her knuckles. She remembered something. “You said you brought me outside.”
He nodded. “You woke with an indescribable urge to go outside. I summoned you.”
“You…what?” That hit her in several different ways. Freaky and annoying and confusing ways. But he was right; she had been compelled to go outside for no logical reason.
“That’s not important. Take Zoe in, get her up to speed on what’s going on. She’ll be an asset to your group. And she needs help.”
Petra put her hand to her throat, panic welling. “How do you know about us? How did you know we were here? No one’s supposed to know about this place. Who else knows? Oh, jeez, we have to get out—”
He put his hands on hers. “Calm down. I know because I’m an Offspring, too.”
She blinked at that. “Why haven’t you approached us before?”
“I watch you from a distance. Intervene when necessary. I put a shield on your shelter so they can’t find you. I don’t know how long it will keep them out, though. The enemy keeps getting stronger, just as you do. The more Offspring you gather, the stronger you’ll become.”
He pushed away from the car and stepped closer, looking into her eyes. “When you feel them remote-viewing you, close your eyes, get in a calm place—don’t freak out.” He gave her a knowing smile. “Get a very clear picture of a golden shield all around you. Imagine things bouncing off it. Lock it in your mind for several seconds, without fear, without distraction. They’ll see you during those seconds but not afterward. It will buy you time to get out of wherever you are.”
Petra nodded, understanding that but not much else. “How did you…summon me?” She shivered. “How did you get into my mind like that?”
Zoe was leaning against the car, watching them intently. “I heard words in my head that weren’t mine.” She turned to Cheveyo. “That was you, wasn’t it?”
He nodded.
Petra said, “But I didn’t hear any words. I just felt this urge. Like you were controlling my mind.”
“I communicate psychically.” He touched Petra’s chin, holding her attention with his eyes. “With you I can suggest…influence. We have a psychic bond, the way Lucas and Amy do.”
That intensified the electricity inside her. “How do you know about Lucas—?”
“Except I will remain at a distance.”
“Why?”
Instead of answering, he said, “You did well at the asylum.”
She blinked in surprise. “You…saw me?”
“I was keeping an eye on you. I knew you’d be all right.” Again, he nodded to Zoe. “I knew she wouldn’t, so I intervened.”
He walked toward the side door they’d come through but stopped and turned. “That shield works to keep you from absorbing other people’s energy, too. Use it whenever you need it.” At her questioning look, he said, “That’s how you heal others. You absorb their energy, their injuries. It’s why you’re uncomfortable when you touch people. But be careful about healing mortal wounds. The amount of energy they require could eventually destroy you.”
“Destroy me?” The words squeaked out.
“Psychically. It could also disable the person being healed.” He reached for the door. “Stay safe.”
“Wait a minute.” She walked over to him. “How do I know I can trust you? She could be a plant.”
He gave her that knowing smile again, holding her with his gaze. “You just do.” Though the energy in the garage changed when he left, she still felt that tingle inside her. He knew her. Knew she freaked out when she got scared and that she was uncomfortable touching people.
“Who is he?” Petra asked no one in particular, still staring at the closed door.
Zoe pushed away from the car and stepped up beside her. “I don’t know, but he saved my life. And if I told you how, you’d probably never believe it.”
Petra turned to her. “I believe in a lot of things I never knew existed.” She laughed without a speck of humor. “Everything I believed in has been turned upside down. Did he tell you what’s going on?”
“No, infuriatingly enough. Only that he was taking me to people like me, whatever that means, and that I could trust you. That you would tell me what was going on. Please tell me what’s going on.”
“What about him? What do you know?”
“Not much more than his name and that he very definitely is a loner. He’s a gentleman. He held doors for me, saved my life, of course, and let me sleep for two hours when he didn’t want to stop at all.”
Petra caught herself rubbing her chin where his hand had been. She’d been jealous of Amy and Lucas’s connection, chagrined to find that the one she had was with the enemy. She apparently had a much more interesting but hopeless connection with a sexy, mysterious loner. Figured.
“I guess you’d better follow me. We have a lot to tell you.”
Zoe scooped up a big hobo purse and slung it over her shoulder. “Thank God.”
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CHAPTER 6
I
t annoyed Zoe that a part of her felt she’d passed some kind of acceptance test. Like those awful days in school when she didn’t get picked dead last, only second to dead last. When the Goths accepted her because she sure as hell didn’t fit in anywhere else. She’d never really fit in with them, either, but at least she wasn’t sitting by herself in the cafeteria under the condescending scrutiny of the jocks and cheerleaders. She had company. That was when she’d come to embrace her uniqueness…well, except for the crazy energy. She followed Petra down a dimly lit passageway. “What is this place? It’s creepy, like the sewers.”
“This is the passageway to what I call the tomb. It’s actually a bomb shelter built in the fifties, when the country was all worried about nuclear decimation.”
Petra reminded her of one of those girls Zoe had hated in high school: pretty, clean-cut, probably a cheerleader. Zoe would try not to hold that against her.
Intermittent lights left shadows and dark patches where she imagined creatures lurked. Not like Dracula, but dog-sized rats and mutant slime.
Zoe strained her eyes to see into the shadows. “Do you ever worry about…something hiding in here?”
“Only the bad guys.” They turned a corner, their shoes thudding on the damp concrete floor. “If you jumped out and had a gun to my back, you still couldn’t get into the shelter.”
Zoe heard a sound up ahead, her breath holding in her throat at the thought of what Petra had just said. They were about to walk into a better-lit area, and she stepped up her pace to reach it.
A shoe scraped on the floor—and it wasn’t hers or Petra’s. Before Zoe could open her mouth, someone grabbed her. Petra gasped. Zoe screamed as the man threw her to the floor, his hard body landing on hers. He pinned her wrists to the floor. His breath came heavy, pulsing at her neck. She could see his outline against the faint light behind him that put his face in shadow.
Then his voice, next to her ear. “Petra, get inside! I’ve got him.”
“Rand?” Petra’s voice quivered. “Is that you?”
“Yes, it’s me. Now go, get to safety. Tell Eric and Lucas to bring guns. I’ve got the guy.”
Petra stepped into the light, her eyes wide. “Rand, that’s not a guy! Let her up!”
“What?”
“She’s one of us. Let her up.”
His weight was crushing Zoe into the hard, cold floor, but he wo
uldn’t relent. Petra knows him. She’s telling him to let me up, which means she thinks he’ll listen. Which means maybe he won’t kill me.
His voice boomed next to her ear. “But you said something about a having a gun to your back. I thought you must have heard me and were letting me know you were in trouble.”
Petra let out a strangled laugh, and only then did the man on top of Zoe ease up. “Rand, we were talking about someone lurking in the shadows. I didn’t think anyone was actually there.”
Before he fully released her, though, he said, “You’re sure she’s not dangerous?”
“She might be now that you’ve thrown her to the floor and won’t let her up.”
Zoe pushed against him and felt bare skin. He wasn’t wearing a shirt.
Finally, he moved off her, and his hand reached for hers. “Here, let me—”
She jerked away. “I can get up on my own.” With a groan, she pulled herself to her feet. In the light, she could barely see the guy who’d jumped her, a little taller than her, his ’do mussed. She tried to put her weight on her ankle and hissed in pain.
He said, “Look, I’m sorry. I thought Petra was in trouble. I thought you were—”
“A guy!” Zoe finished. “You scared the hell out of me, branded a dozen bruises on me, and…and…you thought I was a guy!” The outrage, the insult, and the adrenaline pumped her up. She lowered her voice. “Belize. Haiti. Saba.”
“What are you calling me?” he asked.
“I’m not calling you anything. Not out loud, anyway. Nervous habit. I name the islands I want to go to. It calms me.”
“She-it, I’m sorry,” he said again, reaching for her. “Are you all right?”
She waved him away. “I’m fine. What’d you call me? A she-it?”
“No, that’s just the way I say ‘shit.’”
Petra brushed dirt from her back. “He didn’t mean to hurt you. We’re a little paranoid, and…well, we look out for each other.”