by Jena Leigh
Through the glass Nate could see Cassie and Jezza standing together on the far left side of the training field. Something Cassie said must have struck Jezza as particularly hilarious, because the pink-haired girl tilted her head back and laughed riotously in response.
Aiden turned his back to the window, leaned against the sink, and grunted in annoyance. “The two of them are freaking thick as thieves out there and that is so not something that should ever have been allowed to happen.”
Nate couldn’t hold back a snort of amusement. “What’s the matter, Aiden? Afraid that your ex and your current flame might have a little too much to talk about?”
“It’s not funny, asshole,” Aiden huffed. “Cassie Harper is the best damn thing to ever happen to a fool like me and Jezza is… well, Jezza. You know how she can be.”
“Brutally honest about basically everything?” Nate asked, kneeling down to skim through the meager remains of their dry goods. “Seriously though. It’s not that big a deal. You worry too much.”
“She and I didn’t exactly end on the best of terms, man,” he argued.
“Aiden, you and Jezza didn’t start on the best of terms. In fact, there were no good terms to be found over the course of your entire relationship. All you two ever did was fight. It was nothing but three months of constant bickering.”
“Exactly!” Aiden shouted, as though Nate had somehow proven his point.
Nate shook his head, scrawling the words “green beans,” “white rice,” and “corn” onto the notepad in his hand.
He made the mistake of mentioning to Grayson earlier that the cupboard was looking increasingly bare, thus making his task of throwing together their evening meals more difficult by the day. The boss’s reply had been a vague acknowledgment that they’d need to make a supply run eventually—and an order for Nate to sort through what remained and write up a shopping list.
Not that he really had anything he’d rather be doing in that moment.
Honestly, seeing as how it was either this or his third training session for the day, he probably shouldn’t complain.
One would think, with the entire compound on lockdown, that there wouldn’t be much in the way of work to do. Instead, Grayson was making certain that everyone was constantly occupied with something.
Their previously voluntary training sessions were now mandatory—and the boss had strongly hinted that if you weren’t already working on something else, you should probably plan for a second session that day.
Or, as in Nate’s case, a third.
Even Cassie and Jezza had spent most of their day out on the field, getting a crash course in self-defense.
Nate’s morning session with Alex had originally been rescheduled for later in the day—but seeing as how it was now four in the afternoon and she was still in bed, he was pretty sure that training wouldn’t be taking place any time soon.
The last time he’d seen Alex this dead to the world, Old Man Mallard had just used the push to knock her out by whispering an order for her to sleep. Even this late in the day, no one at the compound dared to wake her. And besides, she’d more than earned a day off.
“The hell are you doing down there anyway?” Aiden asked.
“Grocery list,” he said. “The better question, cuz, is what are you doing hanging around the kitchen with your thumb up your ass?”
“Hiding,” he replied. “Thought that was obvious.”
Nate smiled. “From the boss? Or from your increasingly complicated love life?”
“Neither,” he said. “Or both. Hell, I don’t know, Nate. I’m too tired to think straight. I’ve spent five full hours sparring today and only an hour of that involved abilities. The rest was hand-to-hand. I’m not going to be able to freaking move tomorrow.” A pause. “Huh.”
“What?”
“When’s the last time you got a haircut?”
“What?” Nate glanced up.
“A haircut,” Aiden repeated, staring down at him. “You know. That thing you used to do so religiously after you left Seattle that every time we Skyped you looked a little more like you just went AWOL from boot camp.”
Nate shrugged. “I’m not really sure. I stopped trimming it around the time Alex and Declan went to the past.”
“Weird.”
“What is?”
“Seeing you with hair again.”
“It wasn’t that short, Aiden.” Nate stood, setting his notepad back on the counter.
“It was that short,” he said. “Compared to the long hair you had back in high school and out in Seattle, it was practically a buzzcut.”
Another pause. This time, Nate met Aiden’s appraising gaze and held it. The creases in his cousin’s brow smoothed out and he grinned.
“No, wait. I get it,” said Aiden. “This is you getting back to normal, now that you’re off Carter’s leash.”
“Or maybe it’s just the result of three months spent hiding out in the middle of nowhere, too preoccupied with a stalled resistance movement to track down a pair of trimmers,” Nate countered. “Either way, it’s not that big a deal.”
“What’s not a big deal?”
They turned to find Alex standing in the doorway, looking rested but slightly rumpled in a pair of sweatpants and a tank top.
“Nate’s grooming habits,” said Aiden.
Alex arched a brow, walking further into the room. She pulled her own mass of curls up and into a messy bun using the tie on her wrist.
“Aiden’s suddenly obsessed with how long it’s been since my last haircut,” he explained.
She came to a stop in front of Nate and stared critically up at him. Or more specifically, at his hair. Nate tried not to fidget beneath the weight of her scrutiny.
“Oh, I don’t know.” Alex reached out and tugged gently at one of the stray locks curling over his right ear. “I kind of liked it long. Like it was in Seattle. That was a good look for you, Nate.”
She grinned innocently up at him and he was helpless to do anything but smile back.
Aiden immediately put two and two together… and got seven. As Alex turned toward the wall of cabinets, his cousin opened his mouth to speak. Nate silenced him with a wordless glare. Holding up his hands in surrender, Aiden settled instead for a familiar O’Connell trademark—a shit-eating grin.
Nate rolled his eyes.
“If you’re planning to grow it long again, though, I hope it grows out fast,” Alex added, pulling open the cabinet doors one by one in search of something. “Because right now you’re looking a little… frat boy.” She crinkled her nose. “Do we still have coffee?”
“Corner cabinet,” said Nate. “There should be a few grounds left. Enough for another pot or two.”
Alex retrieved the tin and popped off the lid. “Not quite.” She shook the empty container. “Red’s not going to be happy when she finds out.”
Nate retrieved his notepad and added coffee to the list.
Odds were good his sister already knew—and it would explain why she growled at him earlier when he passed her walking toward Ozzie’s workshop.
“Guess it’s kind of late for coffee, anyhow.” Alex closed the cabinet door and shifted her attention out the kitchen window, toward the training field. “Declan’s training?”
“Yeah, he’s giving Cassie and Jezza some pointers in self-defense,” said Aiden.
“Think he’ll be out there much longer?” There was a funny waver in her voice. “I kind of need to talk to him about something.”
Aiden shrugged, though the gesture was lost on Alex. She’d yet to look away from the window.
“I don’t know,” said Nate. “But they’ve been at it for a while now. Probably be finished soon.”
Looking away, she turned back around, leaning against the counter. “Why’d you guys let me sleep so long? I missed the entire day. At this rate I’ll be up all night.”
“I’m sure Nate would be more than happy to wear you out,” said Aiden, having remolded his smile into
something more innocuous. “Assuming you asked him nicely.”
Alex fixed Aiden with an odd look.
Nate, meanwhile, fixed him with a glower and decided to take the gloves off and flat-out kick his cousin’s ass the next time they sparred.
“You guys were scheduled to train today, right?” Aiden asked. “Still have a few more hours of sunlight left. Plenty of time to sneak one last session in.”
Alex looked out the window at the training field. “You know what? That’s not a bad idea. Are you up for it, Nate?”
“Sure,” Nate replied before Aiden could say anything more. “Meet you out there in ten?”
Alex nodded and, with a quick wave to Aiden, headed back out of the kitchen and down the hall to her room.
“You’re such an asshole,” said Nate.
“Aww, c’mon. You love me and you know it.”
Fifteen
Declan was starving.
And sore.
Very, very sore.
He trudged along the trail that led to the courtyard, fruitlessly attempting to massage away a kink that had taken up residence between his neck and his right shoulder. The sun was roughly an hour from setting, but with Nate and Alex still lobbing giant rocks at each other behind him on the training field, it was probably safe to assume that dinner was a long way off.
Over the course of the day, Declan had trained with both Aiden and Kenzie, given Cassie and Jezza a crash course in self-defense, and sat in on three different strategy sessions.
Up until now, Grayson’s habit for secrecy meant that the more sensitive details of the operation remained limited to himself, Cil, and Ozzie.
Now that they’d lost every asset they’d once had within the Agency, however, it was all hands on deck. As of today, the finer points of the whole movement were open to discussion amongst the entire group in residence.
Although Declan couldn’t quite shake the feeling that the boss was still keeping something from him.
Even so, as far as he was concerned, opening their strategy efforts up to the rest of the team could only mean one thing… Grayson was getting desperate.
It also meant that finding a moment’s peace was proving next to impossible. Now that their flow of actionable intel had all but dried up, the boss’s desperation to make any sort of progress meant that he was determined to keep them all busy.
And since the compound was still on lockdown, that meant endless training and strategizing.
With the way things were headed, Declan would never be able to slip away long enough to acquire his recent purchase and get back before someone took notice of his absence.
The boss also had Declan’s sister on high alert, insisting that she maintain a near-constant telepathic sweep of the premises. If anyone came or went from the safe house, Kenzie would take notice almost immediately.
And since Grayson had yet to send anyone out to pick up groceries, they’d run out of anything resembling coffee hours earlier. As such, his sister was in an increasingly hostile mood.
Red going through caffeine withdrawal while pushing her ability to its limits was a truly terrifying thing to watch unfold. His previous assumption that he might either bribe or sweet talk her into overlooking his quick jump to New York disappeared with the last of the coffee grounds.
And that left Declan in something of a predicament.
He had no way of knowing how long Benji would keep the package on hand at the bar. It might have been bought and paid for, but that wouldn’t mean jack to his former boss. Especially when it involved storing illicit materials on site at his legitimate business.
Benji was always careful about keeping the two operations as separate as possible.
And just because Alex had yet to find anything incriminating in Hanako’s journal so far didn’t mean his doubts had been put to rest. If anything, Declan was more determined than ever to dig into Grayson’s life and uncover any secrets the man might still be keeping.
Declan paused at the front door of the main house with his hand hovering a few short inches above the doorknob.
Whenever he and Alex touched, any abilities they’d recently absorbed were transferred to the other person at roughly the same level of strength. Alex’s full strength fire-wielding ability, for example, had been copied over to Declan yesterday morning at precisely the same levels.
Thirty-four hours later, Declan could still easily hear the siren’s call of someone repeatedly striking a flame into existence across the courtyard—only to allow the spark to fizzle and fade out mere moments later. He turned around and scanned the area, searching for the source.
Trent stood cursing beside the fire pit where they’d taken to lighting a campfire around the close of each day. The evening ritual offered a little piece of normalcy amidst the chaos. A chance for them to sit around and talk about pretty much anything other than the uprising.
Tonight, it must have fallen to Trent to get the fire going.
Declan took one look at the pile of massive logs at the center of the fire pit and laughed.
“I’m glad the sight of my miserable failure strikes you as entertaining, O’Connell,” Trent mumbled.
“You want some help?” Declan asked. “Or should I just leave you to keep trying and failing in peace?”
Trent scowled. “The damn thing won’t light.”
“Yeah, see”—Declan grinned—“that’s because you forgot this little thing called kindling. You’re supposed to light the tinder and get the flame going before you add the bigger logs onto the pile.”
Trent paused. “Oh.”
“Haven’t you ever started a fire before?”
“Oh, I’ve lit plenty,” he said. “I’ve just never built one. Had I known I’d need an engineering degree to get the freaking thing going, I never would have made the offer to light tonight’s campfire in the first place.”
Declan laughed. “It’s fine, just strike another match and I’ll take care of it.”
Dubious but obliging, Trent struck the match.
Careful to maintain his control over the element, Declan dragged the flame off the matchstick and sent it sailing toward the cumbersome stack of logs. Within seconds, a roaring fire filled the pit.
“Well shit, son,” Trent mumbled, his face a mask of awe. “Since when can you do that?”
Declan shrugged. “It’s been a weird few months.”
“So people keep telling me,” he said, then lowered his voice. “Speaking of the things people have been telling me lately, what’s this I hear about you dream-walking last night? You got some sort of death wish I don’t know about?”
“Who told you about…” Declan sighed. “Cassie mentioned it to Jezza?”
Trent nodded. “Jezza asked her how Alex was managing to sleep peacefully all day without the sedatives, so Cassie filled her in. And since my lady and I have no secrets….” He shrugged. “Not that I’m about to go telling anyone else. If the almighty Grayson finds out about it, he’s liable to skin me alive right along with the rest of you just for knowing about it. Seriously though, dude. What the hell were you thinking? I mean, it clearly worked, judging from the beatdown I just saw Alex giving Nate, but…”
“But it was risky,” said Declan. “I know. And trust me, if it hadn’t been our best and only option to get Lex back on her feet, I never would have tried it.”
“Yeah, well,” said Trent. “It was far and away the dumbest thing you’ve ever attempted… but also kind of amazing. It’s probably been fifty years since someone tried that shit and actually pulled it off. And you’re definitely the first jumper in history to have done it. So there’s that.”
Declan smiled, though it took him a bit of effort to maintain it at the turn his thoughts were taking. He decided not to bring down the mood by correcting his friend and informing Trent that he was not, in fact, the first Variant in fifty years to dream-walk.
That dubious honor apparently went to Masterson.
The fact that the psycho was actually in A
lex’s head bothered him more than he could even begin to express.
The fact that he could probably do it again, any time he wished, bothered him even more so.
He wondered if he’d ever be able to understand the man’s motivation for any of his actions so far. Forcing Alex to inject herself with the VX-2. Forcing her to embrace her gifts whether she wanted to or not. Forcing her to watch her own parents’ deaths firsthand…
Yeah. He’d realized pretty quickly exactly what Masterson had done to help rid Alex of her last round of nightmares. Watching the death of her parents on that rainy road in excruciating high-definition had been more than enough to leave Declan rattled—and it wasn’t even his nightmare. The details of that dream were far too vivid to have been anything other than the bastard’s own memory, implanted directly into Alex’s subconscious.
It was cruel. It was heartless. And it made Declan want to punch something. Repeatedly.
Preferably Samuel Masterson’s face.
“Earth to O’Connell,” Trent was saying. “Come in, O’Connell.”
“Sorry,” he said, slowly dragging himself back to the present.
“It’s cool,” said Trent.
Declan had been so distracted by his thoughts that he’d unconsciously drawn a small flame away from the campfire and begun twisting it into strange shapes above his open palm. He sent it soaring back into the larger blaze and strengthened his resolve to resist the fire’s call.
“Hey, Trent?”
Alex’s voice brought Declan fully back into the moment. She was flushed from her recent workout, smiling apologetically as she approached.
“Yo, Lex. ’Sup?” Trent replied, tilting his head back in greeting as much as in question.
“Mind if I steal Declan for a few minutes?” she asked.
“I’ll graciously allow the theft,” he said. “Provided you agree to bring both of your butts back here in time for the campfire tonight. I brought a guitar. There will be singing. Possibly dancing.”