Powerless (Bird of Stone Book 3)

by Tracey Ward

  “That’s what I was thinking.”

  “Me too,” Liam grunts.

  “She’ll make a scene in Russia. She’ll show that she has powers and call them right to her. Then she’ll tell them where to find us.”

  “How long do you think we have?” I ask.

  Carver shakes his head, his eyes on the blood blossoming across the white of the towel, creeping toward my hands. “Not as long as we need.”

  “While we get him stable we should have Alex Slipping people out. It’ll take her more than one trip on her own.”

  Liam coughs. It probably hurts like hell with a stomach wound, but the good news is it sounds dry. He’s not drowning in his own blood. “Where will we go?” he wheezes.

  “That’s a good question.”

  Carver grins. “Alex said she wants to go to Aruba.”

  “I could be down with Aruba.”

  “Mai tais on the beach. Fresh fruit every morning.”

  “Alex in a bikini.”

  His face darkens. “Dude.”

  “What?”

  “Dude,” Liam groans, the word sounding weird under his accent.

  “Would you not be psyched about that?” I ask Carver innocently.

  “We should go straight to the source,” he says sarcastically, moving on from my questions. “Right into Jokinen’s backyard. He’d never look for us there.”

  “Yeah, because it’s a stupid move.”

  “So stupid it’s brilliant?”

  I snort. “Yeah. Sure. Be careful telling Alex to get us there. We might end up in Monaco.”

  “What are you two on about?” Liam demands.

  I smile down at him, feigning excitement. “Pack your bags, buddy. We’re on the road to Morocco.”

  “Oh, bloody hell,” he groans unhappily, his eyes closing. Clenching tightly.

  “Not a fan of Morocco?”

  “I’m not a fan of the desert. It’s bollocks.”

  “You’re British-cursing a lot today.”

  “I’m stabbed in the bloody stomach by a bloody ungrateful, treacherous slag. Yes, I’m cursing a lot, Campbell!”

  I smile down at him. “I like you better when you’re dying. You’re less of an uptight prick.”

  “Blow me.”

  The door clicks open, Alex and Gwen rushing inside. Nick stands out of the way to let Gwen get in next to Liam. Her eyes scan him, then Nick, then me briefly. She frowns at the three of us.

  “Why the hell is no one wearing a shirt?” she demands.

  “We were having a Best Abs contest,” I tell her. “Liam won.”

  She tugs gently at the edge of the towel, lifting it quickly to look underneath. “You’re all idiots.”

  “Not the first women to say so.”

  “And I doubt I’ll be the last.”

  “Is he going to be okay?” Alex asks nervously.

  I lock eyes with Gwen, asking her the same question. I’ve seen his wound. It’s deep. It’s jagged. There’s more to this than stitching him up and strapping a bandage over it. A lot more.

  “We need to get him to a hospital,” she answers, not exactly answering. “He needs surgery in a sterile environment and we can’t give him that. The best I could do is keep him comfortable while he bleeds out and develops about a thousand different infections.”

  “Oh my God,” Alex breathes.

  Gwen gestures to her. “Get over here and take over for Campbell. You’re going to Slip us out.”

  “We’re leaving Nick and Campbell behind?”

  “We don’t need them,” Gwen answers briskly. “And we need to be as forgettable as possible, and they are not dressed to be forgotten.”

  “What if we’re attacked?”

  “You won’t be there long enough,” Carver tells her. “Get him to a hospital, drop him with the staff, get out. We’ll go back for him later when he’s recovering and we’re relocated, but right now we need to evacuate the island. We don’t have time to sit around an ER.”

  “He’s right,” Liam coughs. “You must save the others.”

  Alex kneels next to me. She moves her hands close to mine, taking over the pressure on the towel. I meet her eyes to make sure she has it before letting go.

  “Don’t be gentle,” I tell her seriously. “You can’t be worried about hurting him. Pressure means pressure. It also means saving his life.”

  She nods shakily, her eyes fierce. Her Slip already cranking up. “I hear you.”

  I leave her to it, quickly jumping out of the reach of her Slip.

  “Where are we going?” Alex asks urgently, her voice gaining strength. She’s not great when there’s blood but she does better when there’s a plan.

  “Mt. Sinai in New York,” Nick answers. “A big city like that, their ER will always be busy. You won’t stand out right away.”

  “No, I mean when I get back? When we leave the island. Where are we going?”

  “Monaco.”

  “Morocco!” I shout at him.

  He blinks, shaking his head. “Right, yeah, Morocco.”

  “Jesus, dude. Between the two of you…”

  “You got Monaco in my head!”

  “And now you got it in hers! We’ll be lucky if we don’t all end up in Montana by the end of the night.”

  “Could you guys maybe stop shouting out locations when I’m trying to Slip?!” Alex snaps at us.

  We both quiet, mumbling, “Sorry.”

  Carver and I watch them disappear. I glance at my watch, mentally setting a timer, wondering what we’ll do if they don’t come back immediately. We’re out of transports. The airstrip is gone along with every plane that could take off from it. There are no boats at the docks. No radios to call for help.

  Without Alex and Liam, we’re stranded.

  “We’re not really going to Morocco, right?” I ask Carver when we’re alone. “We’re not actually that stupid?”

  “Not the last time I checked. No.”

  “So where are we taking these guys?”

  He shakes his head, his eyes focused intently on nothing, his brain wrapping tightly around everything. “Not a clue.”

  “Cool. Cool. Cool. Sounds good.”

  We stand in silence for a few minutes. Just two bros hanging in a dark bathroom together. Topless. It’s relaxing and not at all awkward.

  “I know it’s a really stressful, scary time right now,” I mention casually, watching Liam’s blood run down the grooves in the floor, dripping toward the drain.

  “Not for me,” Nick reminds me smugly.

  “Screw you, you unfeeling SOB. But, what I was going to say is, I know things are dark right now. Our brother in arms is mortally wounded. We’ve been betrayed. Our location is probably being compromised as we speak and we have a whole mess of civilians we’re suddenly responsible for against an army of ruthless mercenaries.”

  “Right.”

  “So is it totally messed up to say that I’m really enjoying myself?”

  Nick grins, looking at me sideways. “Would it be totally messed up to say I am too?”

  “Yep.”

  “Then, yep, we’re messed up, man. But it feels good to go work again, right?”

  I smile, nodding in strange satisfaction at the fear and adrenaline rolling in my gut. “It feels damn good.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  NICK

  Alex and Gwen are back in under three minutes. They’re covered in blood but they’re not injured. Liam was tossed on a stretcher and immediately taken into the back to see a doctor. Gwen and Alex promptly Slipped out when the nurses weren’t looking.

  “It felt wrong leaving him there like that,” Alex complains morosely.

  Our team is packed and ready, never having unpacked our bug-out-bags when we got here. We’re circled up in the kitchen waiting for everyone else to get their gear together. They’re taking longer than I’d like, but then again, everyone does.

  “He’ll be fine,” Campbell assures her, munching on a banana, f
inally dressed. “You dropped him off in New York. They see stabbing victims all the time. I’m sure he’s not the only one there right now.”

  “Probably the only one ditched at the door.”

  “Yeah, I doubt that.”

  The door opens. Stewart stumbles inside, a big rolling suitcase clattering in behind him.

  “Stewie!” Campbell greets him happily. He offers him a high five. “What’s up, bro.”

  Stewart smiles, slapping his palm against Campbell’s. “Hi!”

  “You got everything?”

  “I think so.”

  “Do you have socks? Underwear?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is it clean?”

  “Most of it.”

  “Good as any man can do. You’re set.”

  Alex tenses next to me. Her body rises slightly as it straightens. Her eyes are glued to the door.

  I’m sure I don’t feel it the way she does because I don’t feel anything the way everyone else does, but I know what she’s reacting to. Naomi. The air gets heavier as she gets closer. The light dimmer. The glow of Alex’s hair that I always love so much, burning like cold fire, seems dull and so much less lustrous. That’s what Naomi’s power does to you, even when it’s ‘off’. It sucks the life from the world, making you wonder why you bother. Making you feel like everything is dead or dying.

  We’re all watching the door when it opens slowly. Gwen walks in looking tired and drawn, a bag on her back that can’t weigh nearly as much as the load she looks to be carrying. Behind her is Naomi. She moves into the room like a whisper. Like a hiss of air, barely there but portending so much.

  I’ve disliked Naomi since I met her. Since Campbell first told me her power is the opposite of mine. That she’s my nemesis. My match. I don’t know if that’s true, but anyone who can operate at the level that I can makes me uncomfortable. I trust myself to wield this amount of power, and barely at that. Alex is my check and balance. My sense of right and wrong. Does Naomi have that? Is it even possible for her to control her strength?

  From what I saw on the ship months ago, I’d say that yeah, it is possible. Likely even. I’d also say that her being in total control of that much strength actually worries me more than if she wasn’t.

  Gwen leads Naomi to the far corner of the room. She takes a couple steps away from her before slouching down into a seat embanked in shadow. Her eyes are lowered, her shoulders slumped. She looks much different than the bright-eyed woman she was when we arrived. She just woke up, sure, but this is more than not being a morning person. I wonder what else is going on with her. Is she sick? Is she worried about Liam? Is working with Naomi becoming too much for her?

  Alex nudges me gently. “Are you okay?”

  I nod, not answering. Not sure and not enjoying it one bit.

  Justin comes in after the girls. Britta and Trina are behind him. Brody and Beck shuffle closer to Campbell, making room in the tight space never meant to hold eleven people, let alone eleven people with luggage. Every other room in this place is empty. Abandoned. Including the men’s dorm.

  Alex puts on a smile before stepping forward to the edge of the table. “Does everyone have everything they need?”

  “Where are we going?” Trina asks, her voice small and hesitant. Her eyes shrouded by dark makeup and heavy bangs.

  “That’s the problem,” I answer, taking the hit for Alex. “We don’t know.”

  “Well, then what are we all doing here packed up like this? I’m going back to bed.”

  “Then you can be the one to greet the mercenaries when they show up in…” I check my watch, tilting my head pensively. “What do you think, Campbell? An hour? Maybe two?”

  “Maybe less,” he answers darkly.

  “You’re probably right. So, no, I wouldn’t recommend going back to bed.”

  Trina scowls at me. “You don’t have a plan for getting us out of here. Why are you giving me attitude?”

  I ignore her question and her in general. I address the rest of the room. “I’m not going to lie to you. We’re in a bad situation. This was our last stronghold and it’s about to be overrun. Liam is in the hospital with a stab wound inflicted by someone we thought was one of our own. Morale is bound to be low. We have to overcome it. We have to stick together. We have to work together.”

  “But that doesn’t answer where we’re gonna go.”

  “We’re a team. We’re about to brainstorm that.”

  Gwen blinks rapidly, her face pinched. “But they’re coming,” she exclaims anxiously.

  “They are. We need to think fast.” I push off the counter, weaving my way through the crowd. “But first I need to pee.”

  “Are you serious?!”

  “Nick,” Alex calls, her voice confused.

  “I’ll be right back. Brainstorm while I’m gone. Campbell, you’re in charge.”

  “Yes, sir,” he mutters sarcastically. “Thank you, sir.”

  I don’t have time to deal with his attitude. I push out the door into the dark, running toward the dorms. I don’t have to pee. I don’t have time for this either, but it’s important. I can’t let it go. And it absolutely is worth risking my life for.

  I run down the dark hall in the dorms to the room on the right where the men sleep. I don’t turn on the light. The wan yellow glow leaking through the window from the exterior lights is enough for what I need.

  Justin packed up Liam’s gear for him. His space is completely bare, everything he owns stowed in a big black duffel bag sitting under the kitchen table. But under Liam’s cot, tucked in the far corner where no one could ever see (unless they were snooping around, laid on their stomach looking for it) is a small wooden box. A band of brass wraps around it, latched at the top to keep it closed. It needs a key to open. I don’t know where the key is and I don’t have time to search for it, so I pull my gun from my belt and smash the handle down on the lock. It bends but doesn’t break. I hit it again. And again. On the third try it snaps free. The band pops off the lid, leaving it unguarded. I hold my breath as I open it, hoping he’s hiding what I think he is.

  Inside is a lot of paper. Mother’s Day cards he and Naomi gave to their mom. Both their birth certificates. Passports, in their real names and aliases. A picture of their family in front of a massive white mansion in the country. His dad is in it, folded around to the back to leave a very young Liam alone with a pretty blond woman carrying a little blond baby; Naomi. Before she was destroyed by the monster of a father fate dealt her. Before she bled fear. I’m careful with the picture. I put it inside one of the passports to keep it from being bent as I dig deeper into the bottom of the box. Past keys and trinkets. Diamond earrings that shine like flashbulbs bursting in front of my eyes. All the way down into the bottom, deep into the shadows.

  When my fingers brush the smooth, cold surface of the stone, I physically sag with relief. I knew he kept it. I knew he wouldn’t let them take all of my bird away without keeping some small part of it for himself. We’re the same that way. We have questions, so many of them, and the only way to get answers sometimes is to find them ourselves. And that’s why I want the stone. I want the answer to a question, one that’s been on my mind for the last two months. It’s kept me up at night. It’s turned my normally steel stomach inside out.

  I carefully put the fragment in my pocket. The box I tuck under my arm, heading back out to the kitchen. Liam will know I broke into it but I don’t care. I got the only thing I wanted and I’m not so much of an insensitive dick that I can’t appreciate the value the rest of the contents hold for him.

  I hear people arguing before I get inside the kitchen. I can’t make out what they’re saying but they’re angry. They shut up when I open the door, though. I glance around the room with a deep frown, walking in slowly. I hand the broken box to Justin.

  “This is Liam’s,” I tell him. “You missed it.”

  “Oh. Whoa. Okay, thanks.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Is it—was t
he lock broken when you found it?”

  I don’t answer him. “What’s going on?” I ask Campbell.

  He’s sitting on the counter, his feet dangling a foot above the ground. “We were having a very constructive discussion about where to run to.” He points to Trina. “She wants to go to Paris. She’s never been. Stewart would like to go to Texas. He likes horses. Alex wants to go to Los Angeles so she can meet Theo James. Big Divergent fan you’ve got there.”

  Alex scoffs. “No! I said we should go to L.A. because it’s a packed city, like New York. We can blend.”

  “Into the wallpaper on Theo James’ wall so she can watch him undress.”

  I shrug. “I have no idea who Theo James is, but L.A. sounds like the best option out of the crap options you’ve come up with.”

  “We’ve got nothing, man. You’re fishing an empty sea here. If any of us had anywhere else safe to go, we’d already be there.”

  “How do we even know we’re in danger?” Britta asks curiously. Not accusing or angry like Trina, just honestly asking. It’s a valid question.

  I shake my head, admitting she’s right. “We don’t know for sure, but we don’t want to take any chances. Before he went to the hospital, Liam agreed; we need to go. No matter where it is, we’ve got to run. And then we have to fight because this won’t be the last time they come for us. Not unless we make sure of it. We’re getting information on who is doing this and we’re going to put it into use to free ourselves. Once and for all.”

  For me, this is the last time they send me running into the night. I’ll find shelter for now but in the morning I’m coming for them. I’m taking charge of my life because I won’t have another moment of it dictated for me. I won’t waste another second hiding in the dark when I should be kissing Alex in the sun. I should hold her more than I do. More than I’m allowed to surrounded by people the way we always are. I should feel free to kiss her every morning, noon, and night. I should be standing on a beach somewhere with water rushing up warm over our toes, her hand in mine, and our future stretching out before us on the roaring ocean breeze. Every day they chase me, they steal those moments from me, those minutes, and I’m sick of it.

  I’m not giving up another second of Alex.