Strength (Mark of Nexus #1)

by Carrie Butler

  He ducked his head down, running his fingers through the uneven tufts of hair. “He was sentenced to up to ten years in prison but got out after seven on parole. It’s like lives don’t even matter anymore. You kill two people and do less time than if you’d stolen something.”

  I reached out and gingerly rubbed his shoulder. I could only guess how hard it’d been on them, especially at such an impressionable age.

  “People talked. In our town, people talked…a lot,” he explained. “Word got around that he was working the third shift at the foundry. Someone said he was drinking again.” A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Cole and I took it too personally. We were upset and wanted to…no, we needed to talk to him.”

  I swallowed hard and forced myself to nod. I knew what was coming.

  “We told Grandma goodnight and went to bed like nothing was wrong.” He shook his head. “We thought we were so slick then, acting like it was some kind of mission. Now, when I look back on it, I think we just needed that closure. It was always going to be left undone, until we confronted him, ya know? The monster in our nightmares.”

  His voice lowered as he continued, “Half an hour before his shift was supposed to end, we slipped out through the basement window, taking the back way on foot.”

  Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I wasn’t ready to hear this.

  “We took cover behind a dumpster in the lot across the street from the foundry. It didn’t take long. He showed up in the parking lot around six, walking some guy to his car. For a minute there, I didn’t think we were going to be able to go through with it. It wasn’t like we could face him in front of someone.”

  “Good point,” I muttered in a half-assed attempt at encouragement. I wanted to throw up.

  “As it turned out, he’d only gone to get something out of the guy’s car. A bottle in a brown paper bag.” He clenched his jaw. “He slipped him a few bucks and started down the street. I guess he must’ve lived within walking distance. We waited until the coast was clear to follow and cut him off by the park.”

  My throat was closing.

  “Once we were sure there was no one around, Cole pulled him into the darkest line of trees, near the edge.” His shoulders shook, and I felt my brows draw together. “He hadn’t learned a damn thing in those seven years. I mean, there he was, drinking his way home.” His voice was rough and cracking; he clenched his fist. “Didn’t he feel any kind of remorse at all? We just wanted to scare him. To make him think…”

  “Wallace,” I interrupted in a soft voice.

  “He was getting loud and belligerent and I just…snapped. I wasn’t even thinking. I just hit him and…” He trailed off.

  “You killed him.”

  “Yeah.” His eyes were glossy with unshed tears as he turned to face at me. “Cole told me to get out of there. He said he’d take care of it. I didn’t know what to do. I just started running. I got home and I…I just lost it. I never meant to hurt him, Rena. Honestly. You have to believe me. I didn’t think—”

  “I know.” I leaned over and carefully wrapped my arms around him, wishing there was something more I could do.

  He stiffened, and a shudder echoed through his solid form. “Don’t.”

  “S-Sorry,” I stammered, pulling away. What the hell was wrong with me? He confessed to murder, and I hugged him?

  He hung his head in defeat. “There’s more. Cole carried the body through Smiths’ field to these crude oil storage containers on the outskirts of town. They have these manholes on top that aren’t used unless the tank’s being serviced, and that could be years in between. The company pumps from the outside. There’s no need to look in there, unless—”

  “Wallace,” I interrupted before he veered off course. “How do you know all this?”

  “Grandpa used to pump oil. He took us out there a few times when we were younger.”

  “Oh.” I chewed my lip, trying to mesh the two stories together. Their grandfather’s name was Freddy, wasn’t it?

  “Cole climbed up and dropped the body inside,” he continued. “He made it home before sunrise, and Grandma woke us up for school like nothing happened.”

  “Did they”—I twisted my hands on my lap—“ever find the guy?”

  “No.” His eyes were downcast again. “He was reported as a missing person. Someone came to talk to us about his disappearance, but Grandma attested to the fact that we were both home and in bed. There was no evidence found that said otherwise. The search and investigation went on, but nothing ever came of it.”

  “Oh.”

  “It gets worse.” As he spoke, he began to rock back and forth. “That summer, lightning struck too close, and the container caught fire. You probably heard about it. It was all over the state news six or seven years ago. Crews had to come put it out, before it spread across the whole field.”

  My stomach leapt up into my throat. Talk about karma. When Roman got behind the wheel that night, he cast a stone into the water—seven years later, the ripple came back to pull him under. “So, now his family will never know what happened to him.”

  “Seems that way,” he answered.

  I thought about it for a moment and straightened, turning to face him. “Something still bothers me.”

  He met my gaze with weighted blue orbs, like he’d been expecting the objection. “What’s that?”

  It was going to sound stupid, and I hated to drudge it up again, but it didn’t make sense. “You killed him…with one punch?”

  His expression turned grim. “That’s the other thing I need to tell you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The wind picked up, and I burrowed even deeper into his sweatshirt. Though it’d gotten colder, beads of chilled perspiration were starting to form along my hairline.

  “This probably goes without saying, but you have to promise to keep this to yourself,” Wallace said, carefully regarding me. “I’m serious.”

  “Okay.” I gave him a strange look, holding my hands up in defense. “What? I get it.”

  He drew in a deep breath and looked up at the darkened sky. “Remember the bruises?”

  What did that have to do with anything?

  “The bruises.” He gestured toward me with an impatient sweep of his hand. “Your shoulders, your—I don’t know—anything else I’ve touched.” He tilted his head and looked at me. “Let me see your arm. The one I grabbed earlier.”

  “My arm?” I quirked an eyebrow and brought my arm around the blanketing of his sweatshirt. “You don’t think—”

  “Roll up your sleeve.”

  “Geesh,” I commented, tugging at the soft, black material. “It’s just…” I trailed off, staring at the red, slightly swollen handprint on my forearm. “Oh.”

  A rueful expression marred his handsome features. “Do you get it now? That is how it happened. I have trouble restraining myself.”

  “You mean, like, latent anger or something? Something you express with excessive force?” That actually sounded halfway intelligent. Why didn’t I think of that before?

  “No.” He closed his eyes for a long, agonizing moment while I waited with suspended breath. “What I’m trying to say is that I have these gifts—curses, really—that I’m trying to deal with. One of them is an abnormal amount of strength.” His eyes opened the slightest crack, like he was trying to gauge my reaction.

  My reaction, of course, was a WTF? face. “You’re telling me you have some kind of herculean superpower?” I asked. “You’re so strong that you can’t control yourself?” Nervous laughter shook my shoulders, and I did my best not to roll my eyes. “Anything else I should know?”

  “I’m an empath.”

  Oh, for the love of all that was right in the world. “So, you’re not really going to tell me, are you?”

  His eyes darted to mine, and his pupils turned to pinpricks. “You don’t believe me?”

  “Believe you?” I leaned back, giving an awkward half-grin. “You’re not serious.”

  “You’re
scared,” he said, staring me down. “You’re so terrified that you’re suppressing it. The denial, the laughter, the fidgeting—you don’t want to let yourself believe it.”

  I opened and shut my mouth, unable to respond. His tone left little room for argument.

  “I found you because, for whatever reason, I’ve become attuned to you. I don’t need to see you or to be in your presence to know what you’re feeling. I’ve lain awake nights that you’ve lain awake, just because you were upset over something. From the moment I met you, I haven’t been able to turn it off.” He ran his hands back through his hair. “I don’t know why, so don’t bother asking. I didn’t know what was going on when I came looking for you. I just knew you were scared, and I had to find you, okay? That’s why he hurt you, and that’s what brought me here.”

  My ears rang, and a colored edge blurred my vision. It didn’t make sense. Any of it. “What are you saying? T-That you’re not human?” I grasped at the wall for support. “Why are you doing this?” I was getting dizzy, really dizzy. “That’s how you…? Because you’re… you’re…” Wait. “Then Cole…?”

  “He’s fast, isn’t he?” he asked in a quiet voice, adding, “He heals fast too.”

  “So, that’s how he—” No. I couldn’t even consider it. I had to stop this conversation before it got out of hand. “Tell me you’re kidding.”

  He didn’t answer.

  “Wallace,” I raised my voice, pleading and demanding in the same breath. “Tell me you’re kidding.”

  Nothing.

  “Say something!” I shouted.

  “What do you want me to say?” His sharp gaze sparked with electricity, and he pressed his lips into a mulish line. “That I’m a monster? That I’m something you shouldn’t have to deal with?” He worked the muscles in his jaw in an obvious attempt to control himself. “I won’t give you a reason to run, Rena. You’ll have to make that decision for yourself.”

  I let out a breath I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding. “Then what are you?” I raked a hand back through my hair, tearing my gaze from his. “I think I deserve to know that much.”

  Silence, dense and obtrusive, slithered between us. Its coiled passage left me unnerved, anxious. Was I prepared for this?

  “I’m a Dynari,” he said. “I come from a line of people with gifts that exceed human limitation.”

  My cheeks tingled, and I knew the color was slowly draining from my face. Only one word escaped my throat. “How?”

  “I don’t know. There’s no known origin of the Dynari.” He paused, furrowing his brows. “At least, not that I’ve ever known. Even on our family crest, it just says, ‘Divina sum stirpe.’”

  “Divina stirpe?”

  “It’s Latin,” he explained, reluctantly meeting my gaze. “The way my grandma explains it, it means ‘I am of the divine bloodline’—some kind of arcane influence from my ancestors.”

  I couldn’t bring myself to respond. My words had completely and totally run dry.

  “Look, I know it seems like a lot right now, but I need you to believe me. You’re the closest thing I have to a best friend, and I don’t want you to be afraid of me. Ever. We may call ourselves different things, but deep down”—he thumped his chest over his heart—“we’re the same, where it counts, aren’t we?”

  It took me a moment to find my voice. My brain was too busy misfiring signals, flooding my system with adrenaline. “How many of you are there?”

  “I don’t know,” he answered, rubbing at the back of his neck. The frustration that had been etched into his brooding features was starting to fade away, replaced by exhaustion that lined his eyes and tugged at his mouth. “I’ve got relatives that I’ll probably never meet, just like anyone else. They’re scattered all over, and God only knows what they’re capable of. Grandma says the bloodline has been torn asunder over the years.”

  My leg was pumping so fast, I had to slide a hand down my thigh to steady it. “And these abilities, they all manifest differently?”

  He hefted his shoulders, looking tired beyond reason. “It seems that way.”

  “Oh.” I felt numb.

  “I just wanted you to…” He trailed off, abruptly rising to his feet. Alarm tightened his jaw as he hissed a sharp breath, clutching his left eye. “J-Just…” He ripped a key ring from his pocket and held it in front of my face, letting the keys dangle. “Go lock yourself in my truck. Now.”

  I stood up alongside him. “What? Why?” My heart was racing again. Were we in danger? “What’s going on?”

  His gaze turned a little frantic as he surveyed the area with one eye, searching for something. A split second later, he thrust the keys into my hands and made for the alley. “Just go!”

  I jerked at his tone and clenched the keys in my fist, cutting a jagged groove into my palm. Had I said something wrong? The whole thing was a lot to digest, let alone believe, but I was pretty proud of the way I’d handled it. I hadn’t even freaked out.

  Yet.

  My shoes felt like cement as I watched him disappear around the corner. Lock myself in the truck? Why? What was he trying to protect me from?

  I crammed the keys into my pocket and looked around. Only half of the streetlights were lit, lending to the rough, industrial atmosphere. Nothing had changed in the past minute. How could we be in danger?

  I glanced back at the door. There was no way I was going to get Cole, even if there was some kind of threat. If this were a horror movie, that would make me the naïve virgin who ran back upstairs. Like hell.

  I took a deep breath and stepped out into the rain. With a quick tug, I draped the hood of his sweatshirt over my eyes like a cowl. Now what? I had a thousand thoughts racing through my brain, and not a single one of them provided a course of action.

  Guilt clenched my stomach as I shoved my arms into the sleeves and rolled them up, before zipping the sweatshirt from my thighs to my neck. Wallace didn’t have protection from the rain now. He was going to get soaked, and for what? Was it for my sake?

  I skirted the building, making my way toward the edge. The bricks abraded my palms like a slick, petrified sponge, and I grimaced. Did the rain even bother someone like him? Oh God. What was I saying?

  Okay, okay. The plan was to take a quick look on three. If Wallace had already lost me, I’d take it as a sign and go off in search of the truck. If he was there, I’d confront him. That was all there was to it. One…two…

  Three!

  My heart hammered in my chest as I peered around the corner, and my gaze locked on his crumpled form. It was dark, but I could make out his rocking silhouette, knelt down on the pavement. I opened my mouth, poised to call out to him, when a tortured scream echoed between the two buildings.

  “Wal—” A hand clamped down on my shoulder, and I jumped back.

  “Leave him,” Cole said, watching blank-faced as his brother writhed in pain.

  Something fiery shot through my veins as I whirled around to face him. “Where the hell did you come from?”

  “Because that matters right now.” He rolled his eyes. “And I was listening from the window, so don’t bother feigning ignorance.”

  That’s it. Rage consumed my vision as I balled my fist and twisted my hips, throwing a hard right at his jaw. As I should’ve expected, I caught nothing but raindrops on the back of my hand. He was already three paces back, hands in his pockets, looking highly amused.

  “I shouldn’t have restrained you before,” he mused. “This is way more entertaining.”

  I didn’t think after that. I just lunged. The shadowed scenery twisted, and I crashed onto the sidewalk, growling out my frustrations. Don’t stay down! I pushed myself to my feet and braced for retaliation.

  My knees and elbows were pulsing with pain that had yet to completely register. There wasn’t time. I finally had my captor on even ground. I just needed one opportunity, one hit to catch him off guard, and he’d be out of the way.

  Then I’d tend to Wallace. Screw this sup
erpower shit. I was 120 pounds of angry, wet female, and I was ready to fight. Cole wouldn’t stop me a second time.

  “Rena, seriously.” He rounded on me, holding his hands up at his sides. “You’re going to hurt yourself, and then my brother over there is going to pay me back tenfold—so, let’s avoid that.”

  “Like you give a shit about me,” I spat, keeping my arms up. “You can’t just kidnap someone and expect everything to be fine. Obviously, you need Wallace for something, but you picked a fight with me first. I don’t care if you bartered my life for his cooperation. I’m not some stupid pawn in your plans.”

  A loud growl emanated from the alleyway, and my desperation kicked up another notch. “That’s your brother over there,” I berated. “Don’t you care what’s happening to him?”

  Cole looked taken aback, almost insulted. “You act like I can stop it. He’s been having clusters since he was seventeen.”

  “Clusters?” A cool wind slipped past, bringing with it a horrible realization. “It’s eight thirty.”

  “Yeah.”

  I hadn’t even considered it. I’d been so caught up in the moment, the thought never even occurred to me. Another weight stacked onto my load of guilt. “He came all the way here, without his meds, for me? That’s so stupid...”

  And sweet, on a disturbing level.

  “I bet he didn’t think about it. He probably sensed your distress and came straight here, without considering the consequences.” He shrugged. “Lucky you.”

  The fear dissipated, replaced by a resentful sense of comfort. It was strange. I felt like I was dealing with my friend’s brother, instead of my captor. “You know what?” I asked, trying to change the subject. “I think I’ll call you AssCole.”

  “Cute.” The corner of his lips twitched upward as he gave me a once-over, shaking his head. “Gotta say. I wish we’d met under different circumstances.”

  Are we seriously having this discussion? I eased my stance and rubbed at my temples. “Will you at least answer some questions now?”