by K. C. Archer
Teddy studied the woman, who stood head down, shoulders slumped. Something didn’t add up. Teddy stepped closer, expecting the woman to raise her weapon, but the supposed perp’s finger wasn’t even on the trigger. This woman wasn’t a threat; the fourth and final checkpoint was a nod to police procedure, a gift from Officer Clint Corbett, Las Vegas PD, retired. A reminder not to get so caught up in the insanity of the field that they forgot fundamental duties—first and foremost, to practice empathy. “Are you okay?” Teddy asked. The woman nodded. “Hand me your weapon,” Teddy said, putting as much softness in her voice as she could manage. “Let me help you.”
The woman dropped the radar gun, and Teddy moved with lightning speed to secure it. The woman sent Teddy an approving smile, transforming immediately out of scene. “Nice job, recruit. Your card is behind the door.” She tilted her head at the front of the warehouse.
Teddy thanked her and grabbed the card for Checkpoint #4. She walked into Charlie warehouse, which was filled floor to ceiling with boxes. Rows and rows of boxes, with doors every dozen feet or so. Now came the difficult part. Teddy needed Kate’s help to find the right key and the right exit.
Blocking out the noise and tumult surrounding her, Teddy took a series of deep breaths. She tried to replicate the metronomic quality of Kate’s mind. She imagined the walkie-talkie, turning the channel to seven.
Checkpoints three and four in hand.
Silence.
She calmly repeated, Checkpoints three and four in hand.
Waited.
Checkpoints three and four in—
Their energies slammed together like sound waves coming into tune: first the frequencies clashed, and Teddy almost recoiled from the mental screech.
Yes! Kate’s response came through loud, clear, and excited.
Key, Teddy said, a reminder that it wasn’t time to celebrate quite yet. Then: Time?
Key. Charlie warehouse, third door on left. A beat, then: Six minutes.
Teddy had six minutes to get through the maze of boxes, find the key, and open the door. She took off, half expecting to be tackled again, or hit by a truck, or washed away by a tsunami, or whatever real-world torture Boyd could devise. She’d made it over a giant wall and through a catwalk with multiple shooters, survived an attack from an overgrown grunt, and an empathic apprehension. What was one more crazy obstacle? But Teddy made it clear through Charlie warehouse without any trouble at all. She walked to the third door on the left.
Key should be near door, Kate said.
Teddy looked around, brushing her fingers against the door. She checked the mantel, the knob, the jam. No red key. She dropped to her hands and knees, sweeping her hands over the floor.
Four minutes, Kate said.
Teddy skimmed a row of cardboard boxes, then unceremoniously flipped one over and searched underneath. It wasn’t there.
Teddy heard a yell. She whipped around to see Molly, her face white, drenched in sweat, trembling.
Teddy’s first instinct was frustration—with Jeremy. What had he been thinking, sending Molly through the course? He should have been the one to run the obstacles, not her. It took a second for Teddy to direct her frustration into something more productive: helping her friend.
“We can look for our keys together,” Teddy said. Then she saw the red key clasped in Molly’s fist. “Molly?”
It was like she didn’t even hear Teddy. Her pupils were enormous, her eyes practically black instead of the normal green.
Three minutes, Kate said.
Teddy stared at Molly. She’d seen that look before. Teddy’s mind flashed back to Vegas, to Clint and Sergei and the casino. There was nothing behind her eyes; she was blank: mental influence. Had another recruit resorted to this to avoid getting cut? “Molly, this isn’t you. Give me the key.”
Instead, Molly reached for her baton.
Teddy didn’t want to fight Molly. But as her friend walked toward her, she didn’t see another choice. If she knocked Molly unconscious, maybe she’d also break the connection to whoever had influenced her. As Molly swung, Teddy lunged forward.
Molly stepped out of Teddy’s way. Her movement was almost robotic, mechanical. Teddy readjusted her stance, but Molly seemed to be two steps ahead.
Molly raised her arm again, and the last thing Teddy saw was the wooden baton before it connected with her temple.
* * *
Teddy. Teddy. Teddy. Two minutes. Teddy.
Kate’s voice, a deliberate, insistent knock, intruded on her consciousness. Teddy blinked blearily and brushed her fingers along her temple, wincing at the lump that was already beginning to form. Molly had attacked her. Molly had taken her key.
One minute.
Teddy scrambled to her feet. The ground swayed beneath her. Nausea churned in her stomach. No key, she said.
Find it!
Impossible. Molly was gone, and with her, the key. Her heart drumming, Teddy raced to the third door. Maybe Molly had unlocked it, or dropped the key beside it, or . . .
The door was bolted tight.
Forty-five seconds. Kate’s voice sounded thin and far away.
Teddy slammed her body against the door. Grabbed the handle and pulled hard. Kicked and slammed into it again. The door wouldn’t budge.
Thirty seconds. Teddy, do something! Open—
There was only one thing she could do. The question was, could she pull it off? A metal door was a hell of a lot heavier than a Ping-Pong ball. If she was going to do this, she needed all her psychic energy. In her mind, she turned off the walkie-talkie, severing her mental connection with Kate.
Teddy took a deep breath and imagined the electric current traveling from the tips of her fingers and up her arms, gathering strength as it circled her heart. She was so angry—at Molly, Kate, Boyd, Clint, everyone who had led her to a door that couldn’t be opened. She was so angry at herself for barreling toward an impossible task. Her whole body felt electrified, not just her wall but every cell of her being. It was only then, fueled by blinding fury at her predicament, that Teddy tried to imagine her astral body extending an arm to punch through the door. She hit it with every ounce of strength she possessed. Her limbs trembled with effort. She didn’t just want the door open. She wanted the goddamn thing obliterated. She pictured it shattering. Twisting steel, fractured locks, and broken hinges. Flying debris.
Suddenly, she felt all that strength propelling forward. She was moving toward the door faster than she’d ever moved before, faster than was humanly possible. As she looked back, she saw herself standing still, grounded, stuck, eyes closed—had she left her physical body behind? The grating noise of grinding metal gears pierced the air. The steel hinges shattered, flying off the doorframe. The door shuddered, then collapsed outward, falling flat with a loud, dull whomp.
Teddy came back to herself, shocked, out of breath, sweating, limbs like sandbags. She dragged herself through the opening and landed on the other side. For a long moment, time seemed to stop. Teddy lay there, too stunned to move, let alone come to terms with what had just happened. Her fellow recruits, Alphas and Misfits both, gaped at her. Clint stared, Boyd looked shocked, and even the meditative Dunn was leaning so far backward he was practically falling over.
A siren blared the end of the exam.
They’d made it. Teddy looked at Kate.
Kate shook herself as though waking from a dream and then punched her fist in the air and whooped.
“I don’t know what you recruits are celebrating,” Boyd said, her tone desert-dry. “But the rules clearly stated you needed to open the door with a key. You didn’t do that.”
If Teddy had retained any energy, she would have cried. She fell to her knees, dropped her head.
“You fail,” Boyd continued. “Both of you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
TEDDY TRIED TO IGNORE HER headache as she considered how to make her case. She paced her room, going over the speech she’d deliver to Clint. She knew it woul
d do no good to let loose what she was really feeling—that if anyone should be leaving campus, it was the universally despised Sergeant Rosemary Boyd. As far as Teddy was concerned, she and Kate had not only met the requirements of Whitfield’s midyear exam but exceeded them. She’d be damned if she was going to let Boyd send her home on some manufactured technicality. Especially when there had been some sort of foul play. But she couldn’t say that, of course, because it could get Molly in trouble, too. And there’d been so much chaos after she’d exited the warehouse, she wasn’t even sure what had happened to Molly. Teddy refused to pack. If she packed, she was giving in, giving up.
As soon as she made that decision, the door opened: Kate. “Clint wants to see us in his office,” she said.
“Kate, I—” Teddy began.
“What happened in there, Cannon?” Kate said.
“Molly attacked me. I think she was under some kind of mental influence. She stole our key.”
Kate looked at her, incredulous. “Molly? Girl with arms the size of swizzle sticks? You’re saying she got the better of you?”
“I think someone made her do it.”
Kate tightened her ponytail. “Boyd’s a military type. Excuses aren’t going to work. Trust me. And no one is going to believe that Molly was influenced. Not one person in our class has that kind of power.” Kate paused, considering. “And if you tell them that Molly sabotaged you, they’ll expel her, too. Do you want that to happen? If this whole mess wasn’t her fault, either?”
Teddy didn’t even need to think. “No,” she said.
“Then we focus on what we did right. They can’t argue with the facts. We got through that door on time. Got it?”
Teddy nodded, impressed by Kate’s plan.
The two walked to Fort McDowell in silence. Kate knocked twice on the door before opening.
“Clint,” Teddy began, again wanting to explain herself, but he held up one hand to stop her.
“Wait until the others arrive.” With that curt dismissal, he returned his attention to the paperwork that cluttered his desk. Teddy didn’t want to wait. He’d been asking her to wait for months. Wait to learn how to control her power. Wait to learn about her parents. Wait to find out more about the theft. She was tired of waiting.
As if he could sense her growing restlessness, Clint sent her a pleading look. “Just be patient for a little longer.”
Teddy amped up her wall’s power. She didn’t want him in her head. Not now. “You’re not going to even acknowledge what happened back there?” she asked. Before Clint could answer, Professor Dunn and Sergeant Boyd entered. Clint greeted everyone and stated the purpose of their meeting. Kate spoke first, relaying her version of events, reciting word for word the psychic messages she’d sent Teddy. No conflict there. Yes, they’d had stressful moments when their connection had been broken, but she’d followed the rules as explained by Boyd.
Then it was Teddy’s turn. The only hiccup came when Clint pressed her: “You’re certain the key wasn’t there?” As he questioned her, she felt his presence at the edge of her mind. She sent a small surge to her defenses; it was all she could manage.
“I’m certain,” she said. “The key wasn’t there.” He didn’t push further.
Clint and Dunn agreed that though it had been through unconventional means, Kate and Teddy had completed the requirements of the course. But to satisfy Boyd, who stridently maintained that rules had been broken and explicit instructions had not been followed, Clint suggested Teddy and Kate retake the exam—this time following the rules to the letter.
“We’ve never allowed this before,” Boyd protested. “I don’t like the precedent.”
“We’ve never had a first-year recruit telekinetically force open a door before, either,” Clint countered.
The only downfall to the proposed solution was that they’d have to remain on campus over the holidays in order to retake the test, which was scheduled a few days before Christmas; Teddy assumed Boyd had nothing better to do.
“If you’d rather go home permanently,” Boyd said, “that can be arranged.”
Teddy gritted her teeth, hoping the ghost of Christmas past would keep Ebenezer Boyd awake for a month. She would have to explain to her parents that she had to work over the vacation. They’d be disappointed, but they’d understand. They wanted this second chance to work out even more than she did.
“Teddy, hold up a moment,” Clint said, as the others began to file out of the office. “What you did back there—” He stood up from his desk. “I’ve never seen a recruit make a jump in training like that before. A month ago, you could barely move a piece of plastic.”
“Clint, I—”
“Let me finish,” he said. “It scared the hell out of me.”
She’d expected him to be proud of her. Not scared. She’d finally done what he’d asked her to do!
“Your ability is erratic at best. These bursts of intense power are followed by periods when you’re unable to replicate the skill on even the smallest level. I . . .” He paused. “I think we need to slow down. You need to focus on foundational work in Dunn’s class.”
“After all that, you’re the one quitting on me?” Teddy said.
“It’s not quitting. It’s reevaluating.”
She tilted her head up, hoping that looking at the sky would somehow stop her tears from falling. She was tired. Exhausted. It was only then that Teddy realized she was still wearing her gear. Her vest was too tight, the straps rubbing her skin raw. Everything felt raw. “You’re keeping things from me, Clint. Not only this kind of stuff. But stuff about my parents. About the theft.” She looked at him, hoping that he finally would fold after months of holding his cards too close.
He looked her dead in the eyes. “You’re forgetting that I’m in charge, recruit. Some information is need-to-know. So fall back.”
He’d never called her “recruit” before. Boyd’s list of acceptable responses ran through her head: Yes, sir. No, sir. No excuse, sir.
Each phrase tasted more bitter than the last. Teddy left without saying anything.
* * *
Later that night, Teddy left her room and wandered down to the beach. She watched the waves crest and dip from the shore. The campus had emptied out over the last few hours, students returning home after their exam results were posted. The first-year class, pending Teddy and Kate’s retake, had passed. Even Molly and Jeremy.
“Mind if I join you?”
Teddy turned, surprised to see Kate. “Free country,” she said.
Kate settled beside her, opened the backpack she carried, and withdrew a thermos. She filled two mugs and passed one to Teddy. “Merry Christmas to you, too.”
“It’s not Christmas yet,” Teddy said, taking a sip. Eggnog liberally spiced with rum. It burned her throat going down, then a gentle warmth spread through her chest. Her unease lifted.
Kate shrugged. “My mom sent it early. I added the rum.” They drank in silence for a few minutes.
“I’m sorry you’re stuck here,” Teddy said.
“Don’t be.” Kate studied her mug for a moment, frowning. “The second I saw you put on that radar vest, I wished it was me going in. Now I get that chance.”
The admission surprised Teddy. It wasn’t like an Alpha to show vulnerability. Maybe she’d been judging Kate too harshly, putting too much stock in the divisions Boyd had created.
“By the way, how’s your friend doing? I heard she escaped to the infirmary as soon as we got back to campus,” Kate said.
Teddy wasn’t ready to see Molly yet—hell, she wasn’t even ready to discuss the incident.
“I mean, I knew someone had to have taken our key,” Kate continued. “I thought it might have been Ben. He’s pretty competitive.”
You’re one to talk.
Teddy remembered how Kate had psyched Molly out in the gym. But she kept it to herself. Better to move on, focus on passing the exam.
“Molly is the last person I’d expect
to do something like that,” Teddy said.
“But she was partnered with Jeremy.” Kate shrugged. “Maybe he told her to take the key.”
“Jeremy? I thought you said no one in our class would be capable of that kind of thing.” Jeremy was intense. But Teddy couldn’t imagine him hurting anyone, especially Molly.
“I thought you couldn’t do shit, but I watched you blow a metal door off its hinges today. I wouldn’t dismiss anyone. Especially since someone has it out for you.”
Teddy considered Kate’s words. “How do we know I’m the one they’re targeting?”
A smile flickered across Kate’s face, then she shook her head, suddenly serious. Her brown hair, normally tightly secured in a ponytail, hung about her shoulders. “I can do some neat tricks. We all can. But no one else here can look into someone’s head and see the past. Maybe someone here has something to hide. That makes you a threat, Cannon. And if I were you, I’d find out who.”
A shiver ran down Teddy’s spine. First the lab. And now this. If someone wanted her gone that badly, she didn’t want to think about what could happen next.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
THE MORNING OF THEIR RETEST, Teddy and Kate suited up, determined to take out whatever obstacle came their way (and then take each other out for margaritas at the Cantina). They had reached an unsteady truce, working together in the mornings on the quiet and empty campus, running trails in the afternoon, and watching crappy Christmas movies on an old projector in the library at night.
To dispel any hint of unfairness, Clint, Boyd, and Dunn created an entirely new—and presumably more difficult—set of obstacles for Kate and Teddy to overcome. They did, with flying colors. Even Boyd was impressed. Or at least that was how Teddy interpreted her mild grunt followed by: “Not bad, recruits.”
Buoyed by the success, Teddy felt ready to face Molly in the infirmary, where she’d been holed up since the exam. Teddy was still trying to work out what happened on the obstacle course. She knew there was a chance that it hadn’t been Molly’s fault. She wondered if Jeremy really could have been the one who influenced Molly’s thoughts—or had someone else managed to hijack her mind while she was running the course? Whenever Teddy looked at Jeremy, she saw an awkward kid, someone who wasn’t a threat.