by Nana Malone
It was during one of those tests that Rex said he had a solution to his problem. Rex had saved his life on more than one occasion. Garrett had no reason not to trust him. They were like brothers, after all. Next thing Garrett knew, he was burning like someone had lit him up from the inside. When the burning passed, he found out they’d made him into something akin to the damned X-Men. He’d been naïve enough to trust Rex then. He wouldn’t make the same mistake again.
Think dumbass, think. He had to keep Michael away from them. But as long as they thought he was following orders, they wouldn’t hurt his brother. Maybe if he could save Symone’s life, she’d be willing to return the favor. It was a weak plan, but it was all he had to go on with short notice. He’d have to get to her first. If he couldn’t get to her, he’d start with tracking the kid she’d helped tonight.
Garrett forced the next words out of his mouth, fighting with the rein on his anger as he did so. “I’ll bring her in. But then I want some answers. Michael has nothing to do with this. Leave him out of it.”
“We can do that. Just bring in the girl. Where is she now?”
“I last spotted her in the Mylands Warehouse district, near Smith-Collins Road. I followed her for a mile, but then lost her scent completely. Is cloaking one of her abilities?” Garrett wondered if Rex would buy his answer. Rex was no doubt checking his tracking chip location as they spoke.
“Not that I know of. She must have help.”
“Am I allowed to know what her powers are? Or is that need to know too? I need to be able to defend myself.” He also needed to arm himself with as much information about her as possible.
“I already sent reinforcements. You won’t have to engage her on your own. They’ll be there by tomorrow night.”
Garrett needed to find her before the others did. If Rex and Reaper wanted the girl, they’d have to get through him. All he had to do was find her and warn her.
“Understood,” he mumbled.
“You have your orders, Garrett. Reaper wants her. Bring her in. Come back, and you can get your brother taken care of.”
Garrett wrestled with his flare of rage. It was a wonder he’d lasted in the service so long. Taking orders didn’t come natural to him. And veiled threats, meant to remind him who was really in charge, did nothing but fuel his rebellious urges. If he could get to Symone before the rest of the Trackers did, he could convince her to help him get to his aunt’s and get Michael to safety. “I know what I have to do.”
All he had to do was find the un-findable needle in a giant haystack. Good thing, his specialty was tracking ghosts.
***
“I’m pregnant.” Cassie Reeser tipped her head up to look her husband Seth in the eye.
Mincing words wasn’t a strength of hers. She’d never learned how. She’d been holding onto this piece of information for days, trying to figure out how to tell him. For the last year and a half, ever since she’d escaped from her brother and they’d rescued the others from Peter’s experiments, she’d both looked forward to, and lived in fear of this moment.
Her pregnancy was one more step toward the fulfillment of Seth’s vision. If his vision was right, then it meant her brother hadn’t died in that explosion after all. It meant he was coming after them, and she’d be helpless to stop him from killing her and her baby.
But she couldn’t think that way. Seth was rarely wrong, but sometimes his visions didn’t happen exactly as interpreted. Cassie prayed this was one of those times.
The rest of their team was down by the pool and Jacuzzi so the house was empty. It was so rare they got a moment entirely alone anymore.
Seth’s mouth hung open, and he dropped the jar of Jalapeños onto the kitchen floor. Green liquid pooled as shards of glass scattered. “Say what?”
“You heard me. I said I’m pregnant.” She almost laughed as Seth went an unearthly shade of gray, then green.
“It’s impossible.”
He had a point there. Peter had supposedly sterilized her and the other female subjects, but given her rapid healing, anything was possible. She shook her head. Men. “You saw this coming yourself, but you’re telling me it’s impossible.”
He started to shake, and she frowned. He was starting to worry her. What if he didn’t want the baby? After all, who knew what kinds of powers their kid would have. Maybe it was all too soon. After the fireworks of the last eighteen months, they’d only just settled in to their lives.
She’d sold off and disbanded what remained of Gentech Labs. She’d severed all ties to Symcore weapons and had industry watchdogs hunting for any hints of a human weapons program. She’d paid some form of restitution to all the others her brother had hurt. Each of the kids, as she affectionately referred to them, was extremely wealthy and could do whatever they wanted with their money, powers, and newfound freedom. But only two had chosen to leave the compound, or the Lair as they’d taken to calling it—Symone and Jared. All the rest had remained. Cassie finally had the family she’d wanted.
She and Seth had gotten married six months ago, and they had barely had a chance to get used to living together. No wonder he was going into full freak out mode.
“Maybe I should get Lisa.”
Seth shook his head as if to clear it. “Leave Lisa be. She only gets to come out here once a month or so. Let her enjoy herself with the kids.”
After they’d watched her brother presumably die, Seth had been concerned about his longtime friend, so they’d gone back to check on the doctor. Lisa had been irritated that they risked exposure just for her, but once they were sure the danger was gone, she’d been coming out to the cabin more often. If it could be called a cabin. The high ceilings, modern furnishings, and surrounding guest cabins really qualified it as a resort, but that was semantics.
“What am I supposed to do? You’re scaring me. You already saw us having the baby, so I thought you’d be happy.”
Seth jerked his head. “Oh shit, sorry. For a mind reader, you sure suck at discerning my feelings. I’m thrilled. I’m just shocked and worried. In my vision, you looked older. I—um, didn’t expect anything like this. I just don’t know what to do.”
“How about we start with you holding me? And don’t you worry about my brother. We’re stronger than he is. No one is going to hurt me or this baby. Your visions have been off before.”
He frowned. “Rarely.”
“We can’t spend our whole lives worried about if he’s going to come for us. I’m not going to have him overshadow what should be a happy time. Until I met you, I didn’t think this was even possible, given everything he’d done to me. You were my miracle. This baby is a miracle.”
Seth set his jaw, but the look in his eyes softened to something tender and a little mischievous. “I am happy. In fact, I want to show you exactly how ha—” His body went still as stone.
Cassie placed a palm on his cheek. “Seth, what’s the matter? What do you see?”
“It’s Symone. Turn on the TV. She’s been exposed.”
Without even a second for the thought, Cassie’s cell phone flew into her hand and the remote into the other. Telekinesis sure was handy for some things. She dialed Symone’s number by memory and checked the satellite television for news of Symone while she waited for her friend to pick up. Just their luck, one of the Miami stations was running the story of a baffling robbery gone awry.
“Hi, Cassie.”
Cassie tried not to smile at the resignation in Symone’s voice. It had been too long since they’d spoken. Cassie missed her friend. Wished she’d come home. “Just what part about lying low did you not understand?”
“Chill, I’m in no mood for an ass chewing. Besides, I’m laying low. Sorta.”
“It’s all over the news, Symone. Three male assailants stopped mid-robbery. One thrown through the window of one of the store fronts. Do you want to explain?”
Symone let out a long breath. “I promise, I wasn’t seen. Cassie, what’s the point of my powers if I’m not a
llowed to use them to help anybody?”
Cassie sucked in a deep breath, trying to stave off a sudden bout of nausea and the strange urge for Oreo cookies. “Symone, look. I’m not saying you shouldn’t help anybody, but you could have been hurt. It’s dangerous out there. There could still be some people trying to continue Peter’s work, we have to be careful and stay hidden. Can you imagine if someone got the drop on you? What would happen if you landed in the hospital? One look at your genetic makeup, and it would be another lab. There are still scary things out there.”
“You seem to forget I’m one of the things that goes bump in the night. Besides, what was I supposed to let them do, hurt that girl?”
“What girl?” Cassie didn’t like the sounds of this. Given Symone’s past history of being on the streets, she was always trying to bring in strays. Some worthy of her help. Several not. But Cassie couldn’t tell her not to help someone. It was what she would do herself. “Let me guess she needs some help.”
“The Miami Street Kings had her rob a lawyer’s office for some files. They threatened to kill her if she didn’t. They’re not just going to leave her alone now. She’s got no one looking out for her on the street. I need to get her somewhere safe.”
Cassie knew there was no point arguing with Symone. When her friend wanted something, she got it. “I’ll make some calls. I might be able to get her placement in Atlanta. That girl—can she identify you? Do I need to come down there?”
Symone stayed quiet for several heartbeats. “She won’t be a problem.”
“How can you be so sure? All we need is one blabbermouth claiming they saw Wonder Woman, or Super Girl, or some such nonsense, and that’s it, lights out. My brother and his Trackers will come looking for you and the others.”
“Peter’s dead.” Symone didn’t buy into Seth’s vision that Peter had survived the explosion a couple of years ago. She thought Peter was just the Boogeyman Cassie and Seth used to scare them all into complying with the rules.
“You keep telling yourself he’s dead. I have to act like he’s a real and present danger. I need to keep you all protected.”
“Look. I know. I don’t want to endanger anyone. I just didn’t want that kid to get hurt. I’ll be more careful next time.”
“You have to think of yourself first, Symone.” Cassie let her exasperation weave in and around her clipped words.
“I hear you, okay? Just please don’t yank me.”
A pang pierced Cassie’s heart. “Symone, I couldn’t yank you back, even if I wanted to. I’m not your mother, and the Lair is not a prison. It’s your home for as long as you want it. I’m not your warden. I hope you think of me as your friend.”
Jansen Michaels, resident human and bomb expert, strolled into the kitchen. His gaze honed in on Seth’s frown, then he looked at Cassie. “Is that Symone?”
He snatched the phone out of her hand without preamble. “Symone, come home. No—stop. I’m not listening. I said come home. You belong here.”
When Cassie had first met the towering ex-marine, he’d terrified her. His countenance was usually easy going, and he seemed very much like the surfer he appeared to be. But he was lethal. He’d helped her when she needed it most. He’d saved her friends. She owed him a debt she couldn’t pay back. And truth was, he was almost more attached to the kids than she was. Especially Symone. He’d carried her out and away from the burning building and continued to have a soft spot for her. He’d been torn up when she left.
His voice continued to drop in octaves until it was barely more than a growl. “Symone, it’s not safe. You have to come—” He abruptly yanked the phone from his ear. “She fucking hung up on me.”
Cassie quirked an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
Chapter Four
The following day, Symone woke to a stinging itch in her side. Flinging aside her duvet, she pulled up her T-shirt and inspected her wound. Only a hint of pink marred her brown skin. A quick glance at the clock told her she’d been asleep for nearly twenty hours. Shit. Healing wasn’t supposed to take that long.
Forcing herself out of bed, she grabbed a quick shower so she could head back to the Youth center. With any luck, Riley had taken her advice and gone there for the night. It was technically her night off, but Symone needed the distraction. She couldn’t sit around anymore.
Thanks to the money Cassie had given to all of her brother’s subjects, she’d been able to get her GED. at eighteen and go to college at an accelerated pace. Thanks to Jansen’s directed attentions, she found out she was good at computer programming. Better than good actually. Great. Banks now hired her to make sure their systems were secure and hacker proof. She didn’t get any noble satisfaction out of what she did, but it was a job she could do anywhere, and she was useful. Not that she needed money. With the money from Cassie, if she wanted to be a vagabond for the rest of her life, she could be. But that wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted to be needed.
Some of the other subjects thought she was crazy living like a normal person with her nice but modest apartment. Jared, one of the older subjects got himself a pad in South Beach, Miami. Symone shook her head. She didn’t need flashy.
The television blared as she continued to get ready. “In other news, the nephews of Carlos Santez, suspected head of the Miami Street Kings cartel, were found along Milk Street in what looks to be a string of robberies gone wrong. Julio Santez was found in the rubble of a local book store, while Raphael Santez was found in the street, unconscious, with minor injuries sustained. The third nephew, Alejandro Santez, was found not too far away in a moving truck, in what looked like an attempted robbery.”
Symone stared at the television screen, brows furrowed as she prepared to head to the Youth Center. In her isolated life, the Youth Center was one of her few points of human interaction. She loved that place. If she’d had somewhere to go when she’d been that young, maybe her life would have been different. But then, life as a genetically altered super freak did have its perks.
Slipping on her tennis shoes, she tried to sort through the order of events of the night before. The smell of worn leather had hung in the air. Had someone else been there—because she certainly couldn’t take the credit for wrapping up Alejandro Santez. How the hell could that little shit have gotten himself locked inside a truck? The nerve endings on the back of her neck tingled.
She pulled on her jacket and snatched up the remote to turn off the television when a chill stole up her spine. The newscaster’s nasal, valley girl accent filled the silence of Symone’s living room. “All three have been taken to Miami General at the request of family, where they remain under detainment. We are told that they are conscious, though uncooperative.” Conscious meant they could talk. Conscious meant they would remember her. Worse, that they would remember Riley.
While the newscasters bantered about what string of events could have led to the Santez’s capture, Symone donned her gear. If those thugs were up and about, it wouldn’t be too long until they came after Riley. Symone understood Cassie’s concerns and the need to be careful, but Riley was an innocent who could use a second chance.
Symone shrugged off her jacket and added a weapons belt that her jacket would hide. She had to get that kid off the streets. As she slipped her knives into their sheathes, her phone rang. No one had the number of the burner cell besides the lair and Jared. Looking at the unfamiliar number, unease slithered down her spine. “Hello?” she answered cautiously.
“You said to call you if I was in trouble?”
Riley.
The girl’s voice wavered as she continued. “I could really use your help. Those guys from last night are coming after me, and I got nowhere else to go.”
“Where are you? What’s happened?” Symone knew she should listen to Cassie’s warnings. She knew Riley could be trouble, but she couldn’t ignore the call. She had to go.
“This kid, Raul, and some other Kings caught up to me at the park. Threatened to kill me if I didn�
�t bring you back for some payback. I don’t know what to do.”
Oh perfect. A trap. She loved a trap about as much as she loved a bikini wax. “Listen to me, meet me down by the strip mall on Milk Street. Can you do that?”
“Yeah—but they’ll kill you.”
“You don’t worry about that. You just get down there and stay safe until I get there.”
“I-I don’t know what to say.”
“Right now, don’t say anything. Let me get you safe first.”
“Do you think you’re some kind of superhero or something? You’re not afraid of getting killed?”
“Believe it or not, there are worse things than dying.” Symone snatched her keys off the counter, rushed out the door, and headed back to Milk Street. She knew what she was walking into. She just hoped she could find Riley and get her out before the fireworks began. Riley didn't need to see that kind of carnage.
Careful to check her surroundings to make sure no one was watching her, Symone knelt by the alley of the old paper mill warehouse, trying to pick up the thread of Riley’s scent. Something spicy mixed with bubblegum, maybe cotton candy. She’d know Riley’s scent anywhere now.
Cassie and Jansen would kill her if they found out she was here. But she couldn’t leave the teenager on her own. When those gang members woke out of their stupor, they would send more of their friends after Riley. Symone needed to get her to safety. Cassie had texted with the address of her friend in Atlanta. So that was at least an option.
The wind kicked up, and Symone smiled. Just the help she needed. With any luck she’d find Riley within the hour and get the teenager off the street. She didn’t really have a plan for what she’d do after she found her, but maybe she’d start with saying, “Move your ass, I’m trying to save your life.”
Keeping to the back alleys, Symone made her way to the bridge behind the strip mall. The stretch of sand by the water was called the beach, but it wasn’t the pretty tourist attraction that drew tourists to the area. This was the stretch of beach the city council of Mylands, Florida would rather keep hidden. It was where the thieves, dregs, and street kids slept and made their deals.