Powerless (Bird of Stone Book 3)

by Tracey Ward

  “Oo een ike iff?”I ask her through my over packed maw.

  I’m surprised when she doesn’t blow her top. Instead, she smiles. It’s beautiful and sweet, a complete departure from the attitude she’s been sporting all morning. She leans over the table toward me, holding her coffee mug with one hand while she rests her weight on the table on the other. I don’t know if it’s intentional or not, but I can see right down her shirt. I enjoy the view for a second before lifting my stare to her mouth. To her eyes looking straight into mine.

  “Exactly like that,” she whispers intimately.

  “You’re intense in the morning, aren’t you?”

  She smiles wider. She leans in closer.

  She pours her hot coffee inside my cold cereal.

  I wish that was a euphemism, but it’s not. It’s the sad truth. The milk turns murky and hot, drowning my joy in bitter bubbles.

  Gwen’s smile holds on her face, and it’s starting look a little psychotic the way it doesn’t reach her eyes. The way it doesn’t match her actions. Psychotic and so, so hot.

  “Learn some basic table manners,” she tells me quietly, slowly standing up straight, “or next time, I’ll dump the entire pot over the lucky charms in your pants.”

  We all watch her as she turns to leave the room, heading out into the blinding morning light. When she’s gone, I put my bowl down on the table, pushing it far away from me.

  “I think she likes you,” Britta says sarcastically.

  I grin at her. “You think so?”

  “Definitely.”

  “Good news.”

  Past Britta, I accidentally lock eyes with Naomi. They’re bright blue, almost white in their intensity, and they’re focused on me. That feeling in my gut she was giving me before triples in strength, churning angrily.

  It gets even worse when she grins at me.

  Liam sits down next to me, his tea in hand. “Gwen’s like that in the mornings, mate. I got bread crumbs in the butter once and she smeared it across my chest.”

  “Your bare chest?” I ask distractedly, pulling my eyes away from Naomi’s.

  “Wh—no. Why would I be bare-chested in the kitchen?”

  “Does it help you to hear this story imagining Liam half-naked?” Alex asks me.

  “It does, actually. Have you seen him? He’s dreamy.”

  Liam surprises me when he winks at me, tipping his cup in my direction. “Cheers.”

  He, apparently, is a morning person.

  “Anyway,” Carver says loudly. “I think since we’re all here we should talk about the recon plan. I say we start tomorrow when my team is fresh.”

  I push back in my chair, balancing it on two legs. “Great, but how are we going to do it? They’ll have guns on the tops of the walls and they’re in the desert. They can see for miles. Even with Brody’s sense of sight and a scope, we’re going to need to be ridiculously far away to stay off their radar and there’s no chance of getting a head count.”

  “I have a thought about that,” Liam offers.

  Carver nods to him. “Let’s hear it.”

  “There was a girl, a super, as you keep saying, that my father employed. He used her to gather intelligence.”

  “She was a Spy Master,” I clarify.

  Liam shrugs. “If you like.”

  “How’d she do it?”

  “Her ability is astral projection.”

  I let the chair fall forward, tumbling my body against the table where I land with a smack, my palms hitting the surface hard. “Are you serious?”

  Liam looks at me cautiously. “Yes. I am. Why?”

  “Because that’s so baller!”

  Brody flinches. “Yelling, dude.”

  “I’m sorry,” I laugh, “but it’s insane that we’re only hearing about her now.” I turn to Carver and Alex. “Did you know about this?”

  They both shake their heads in innocence.

  “We had no idea,” Alex swears.

  “Is she matured?” Carver asks Liam.

  “Yes. Fully. She has been for years.”

  “How old is she?”

  “Twenty-four, I believe. Maybe twenty-five. Her name is Jonnie.”

  “And where is Jonnie?” I ask excitedly. “How do we find her? How do I hug her?”

  “You don’t.”

  “Maybe you don’t ‘cause you’re too British, but I’m American, and Americans hug their idols. We hug them so hard and so long we get restraining orders instead of autographs.”

  “How is she your idol?” Alex demands.

  “Because she has the coolest ability yet.”

  “I can make matter from dreams.”

  “Yawn.”

  “What?”

  “It’s not a contest,” Carver drones, always playing the peacekeeper like a parent with two bickering kids.

  He’s wrong, all of life is a competition, but I let it go because I want to meet this chick. I’m literally squirming in my seat like a kid about to pee his pants, I’m so excited.

  “When I said you don’t,” Liam continues, “I meant that you don’t find her. I can call her and if she feels like answering, she’ll project herself here to us. But she will never set foot on this island again. She’s made that very clear.”

  Alex sits down next to Carver, her eyes on Liam. “You keep in touch with her?”

  “I check in with her now and then to make sure she’s safe, yes. I don’t know where she is, though. She makes sure of that.”

  “How do you call her?”

  “Meditation.”

  Alex smirks. “That’s your answer to everything.”

  “One that works quite well, if you’re willing to take it seriously.”

  I raise my hand. “I can take it seriously. Can I come with you to call her?”

  “I would rather you didn’t.”

  “But will you let me anyway?”

  “Will you be insufferable if I don’t?”

  “You have no idea.”

  Liam sighs, raising his cup. “Let me finish my tea first.”

  ∞

  I sit across from Liam on the floor in the guy’s dorm. The room is boring and bare. Cots are pushed against every wall with small dressers wedged between them. Plain, gray comforters and stark white sheets cover every mattress. It reminds me a lot of the barracks and a part of me pinches tightly looking at it. Remembering. It wasn’t that long ago that I was part of something big, something important, and there are times that I wonder if I made the right choice following Carver. These people had everything taken from them. I gave it up willingly. I’m supposed to be a genius, but was that a smart move? Did I make an informed decision, or is my dad right about me; am I too rash? Am I careless?

  These are questions I’d never own up to or ask out loud. I’m angry even asking them of myself.

  “Sit down and cross your legs in front of you,” Liam instructs, taking a seat on the green yoga mat he’s laid on the floor. There’s a blue one at my feet. “Get comfortable. That’s the important thing for beginners.”

  I drop to the ground, immediately folding my legs into a full lotus pose.

  Liam stares at me in surprise. “You’ve done this before?”

  “I grew up in Orange County,” I remind him. “Yes. I’ve meditated before.”

  “Then I don’t need to tell you to focus on your breathing.”

  “You can, but, no. You don’t have to.” I settle in, inhaling deeply to center myself. “Any special instructions for calling the Spy Master?”

  “No. I’ll take care of contacting Jonnie. And speaking to her. You’re here for observation only.”

  “You got it.”

  “Do I?” he asks seriously, looking at me hard. “Will you let me do this or will you interrupt constantly and push Jonnie away because, I warn you, not everyone finds this business as fun and frivolous as you do. Some have been hurt. Some have scars that will never heal, and your attitude is not always appreciated.”

  I study Liam c
arefully, from the tight grip of his fists in his lap to the hard cut of his jaw, and I wonder what it is about this girl that has him wound so tightly.

  “What’d your dad do to her?” I ask frankly.

  He takes a quick, shallow breath, his eyes avoiding mine for a second. “He kept her prisoner for most of her life. Jonnie was an early success that gave him the confidence to continue his work, and he held onto her like a talisman. He faked her death, told her family she was gone, and gave them an empty casket to bury. He told Jonnie that they walked away when they found out what she could do. He told her she frightened everyone. Everyone but him.”

  “He was the only one who could love her,” I finish for him.

  He nods. “It was a classic abuse tactic. He was her jailer but he portrayed himself as her savior. I thought she bought into it as much as he did, but when Alex and Nick destroyed the clinic, she ran. She was one of the first to evacuate the island in the chaos following the bird. She’s kept her location hidden ever since.”

  “She was here when that happened?”

  “Her, Naomi, Trina, Stewart. Britta and Gwen are the only ones who weren’t here at the time. They were at another clinic in England.”

  “How many clinics did you used to have?”

  “A few,” he answers evasively.

  “Okay, I’m seriously asking, so be real with me; on a scale of Bill Gates to Bruce Wayne, how rich are you?”

  He shakes his head. “One is a real man and another is a comic book character. I don’t know how to answer that question.”

  “But you’re not denying you’re on a scale with at least one of them.”

  “In England, it’s considered rude to ask this kind of question.”

  “It is in America too. But American’s are rude, so I’m still asking.”

  “And I’m clearly not answering.” He motions for me to copy his rigid posture, taking a slow breath. “Are you ready?”

  “Whenever you are.”

  Liam closes his eyes slowly, watching me with a whole lot of reservations.

  I close my eyes completely before him. I focus on my breathing, making sure not to change it. Not to deepen it or draw it out in any way. I let it happen naturally, paying attention to the rise and fall of my chest. The air expanding in my lungs, deflating as it exits my open mouth. I feel the warmth of the heater in the corner of the room. The draft through the window behind me. I shut all of it out, drawing my world to the pinpoint of my own body. I center my attention on me, a task I’m very familiar with, and I breathe. I empty my mind and I breathe. I focus and I breathe. I breathe.

  I breathe.

  I feel it when it starts to happen. At first I think Liam is Slipping, it feels so similar. But this isn’t Liam Slipping. This is like Alex Slipping, turned up to eleven. Electricity vibrates in the air around me, sending my hair up on end. It feels like a lightning storm building inside the room, and it takes all of my self-control not to open my eyes. I do what I can to stay with my breathing, waiting for Liam to tell me when it’s time.

  But he doesn’t. Jonnie does.

  “Who is he?” she demands immediately.

  My eyes snap open, my concentration gone. My brain short circuiting at the sight of her.

  She’s a ghost of a girl. White wisps of thought laced together to give the impression of a form. She towers over me where I sit, but she can’t be more than five-foot-six. Her hair is long and dark. Her eyes black and burning. Scorching straight to the heart of me.

  “Jonnie,” Liam begins softly, “this is Cam—”

  “Max,” I interrupt, my eyes never leaving hers. “My name is Max.”

  “Hi, Max,” she replies blandly. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to meet you.”

  “And how do you know about me?”

  Liam clear his throat quietly. “Campbell—er, Max came here with Alex and Nick.”

  Jonnie doesn’t respond. She watches me watching her, and I can feel her eyes roving over me. But she’s not looking at my body. She’s looking at me. Inside me.

  “You’re yellow, Max.”

  I laugh reflexively. “Are you calling me a coward?”

  “I’m looking at your aura. I can see it clearer than your face.”

  “You’re missing out.”

  “I’ll take your word for it.”

  “Is yellow a good thing or a bad thing?”

  “Do you feel like you’re bad a bad person?”

  “I think it depends on who you’re asking.”

  “I’m asking you.”

  I hesitate, chuckling to cover it. “I don’t know. I don’t think I’m a bad person. I don’t think I’m exactly good either.”

  “No one is completely one or the other. We’re all a little murky.”

  “So, what am I? What’s yellow mean?”

  “You’re playful. Intelligent.” She cocks her head slightly, like she’s trying to get a better look at me. At some corner of my soul I’m hiding from her. From myself. “You’re passionate and curious. Sometimes confused. Conflicted.”

  I swallow thickly, surprised by her accuracy. “That’s a neat trick.”

  “It’s not a trick. It’s you.”

  I gesture to Liam, not looking away from her. “What color is he?”

  She glances at Liam. When her eyes leave me, I immediately wish they hadn’t. Her gaze was impossibly penetrating, digging down to the interior of me where no one is allowed to go. She threw those doors open so easily, like they were never there, and there’s something scary and exciting about that. About having zero opportunity to hide.

  “Liam is almost the same color. A little more orange. More skeptical. Much more of a perfectionist. He was born to be a scientist.” She turns back to me. “What do you do?”

  “I was a soldier.”

  “What are you now?”

  I open my mouth to give her an answer only to find out I don’t have one.

  I don’t know what I am.

  It’s hard to read Jonnie’s expression because she’s not a fully formed person. Her face is a beautiful progression of silver light and white shadow, but as the silence draws out between us, I feel like she fades a little. Darkening sadly.

  “You don’t know,” she fills in for me knowingly.

  “I always wanted to be a PJ,” I hear myself explaining, not sure why I’m doing it but not sure I can stop either, “and now that I’m not anymore, I don’t know what that means for me.”

  “I get that. More than you know.”

  “You’re feeling lost now that you’re not a Spy Master anymore?”

  I’m surprised when she laughs. The emotion ripples through her like lightning in a cloud, natural and powerfully stunning. “That wasn’t exactly my title, but yeah. I spent my entire life as an Intel Expert and now that I’m not anymore, now that I’m free, I don’t know what to do with myself. How do you go from being something so extraordinary to being anything ordinary?”

  “You can’t exactly bag groceries at Safeway.”

  “Or work a kiosk in the mall. It’s hard to know what to do with yourself when the thing you always identified yourself by is stripped away.”

  “Even if you’re the one who stripped it.”

  She smiles faintly. “Yeah.”

  I smile up at her, mesmerized by the flutter of light across her lips. Along her cheeks. Is it a blush? Is it a feeling that I can see in the movement of her spirit or aura or whatever part of her I’m looking at? Or is it something I’m making up, a trick my eyes are playing trying to make sense of something, someone, that they can’t understand?

  “Jonnie,” Liam says lightly, pulling her attention from me. “We need to ask you for a favor.”

  Her image shudders, a ripple of darkness passing through her. If I had to assign it an emotion, something I’m not sure I should be doing, I’d say it was fear. “You want me to spy on someone for you.”

  “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t vitally important. We found the
head of The Organization. The one who hired my father after the U.S. military shut his program down. He’s the man chasing us across the globe. My home in Belfast was attacked. We lost control of it and had to run here to the island as a last resort.” He gestures to me sitting across from him. “Campbell, Nick, Alex, Brody, and Marcus were attacked immediately after. They’ve come here as well. They’ve joined us in hiding, but we can’t hide forever. None of us wants to. Including you.”

  Jonnie’s form darkens again, this time staying dark. She looks down at both of us in turn, the burn in her eyes turning inward. Retreating instead of seeking. “Alex and Nick are there?”

  “In another building, but on the island. Yes.”

  “Have you told them what I did?”

  “No, but they would understand.”

  “Don’t tell them.”

  “Jonnie, I think if you give—”

  “Promise me you won’t tell them or I won’t help you.”

  Liam takes a deep breath, releasing it slowly. “I will promise not to tell them, but I believe you should.”

  Jonnie focuses on me. “Can you keep your mouth shut?”

  “Rarely,” I answer honestly.

  “Will you keep it shut about this?”

  “If that’s what it takes to get you to help us, I’ll keep any secret you want.”

  “Good.” Jonnie turns to Liam reluctantly, her light still dim and disappointed. “Who’s the mark?”

  “Gustav Jokinen. We don’t know exactly where he is, but he sometimes goes into hiding in a military base in the Sahara Desert. Nick is devising a plan to attack the base when Jokinen is inside, but we can’t get close enough to see the interior without being spotted. We need someone to sneak in and get us information on the layout and the number of soldiers.”

  “And when Jokinen is inside, you’ll break in and kill him?” Jonnie asks me directly.

  I shake my head. “Not just me. Or it might not be me at all. Nick is talking about blowing up the entire base.”

  “With soldiers inside?” she demands dubiously. “You of all people are willing to kill an entire base full of military?”

  “They’re not military. They’re mercenaries. Jokinen’s partner is Andre Naidu, an African war lord. He runs the base when Jokinen is gone.”