The siren didn’t stop until two. Olivia didn’t know if anyone would show for her three o’clock martial arts class. Since she had a huge amount of stress to work off, she opened her studio anyway. Almost all the students in her class gathered on the sidewalk outside the door as she turned the key and let them in.
She could see their fatigue as they filed inside, dropped their bags against the wall, and quietly greeted her. The stress was evident in their expressions as they constantly glanced out the front window. Most were either blessed with abilities like her or had close ties to someone who did. The group of five or six pretty much represented the remainder of the town’s extra-skilled population.
Going to class was something they’d always done, so they were allowed to continue. That was probably the only good spot in a totally fucked-up system. New students had to have government authorization before joining her classes. Needless to say, Olivia didn’t have new students these days. And the regulars became scarcer each time the siren blared.
“They shut the whole town down because of a lighting fixture malfunction?” one of her students asked, performing his warm-up.
“I heard there was an equipment failure. The scanners didn’t pick up the fire. I guess they spent the day double checking the reason we pay so much for groceries and gas.”
“Jake said Dean Madison died.”
“Gunned down in the street. Murdered.”
“Bastards.”
Olivia said nothing as they discussed what had happened since their last class. This was probably one of the only places they could speak freely without fear. She wasn’t sure how long that would last, especially after the questionnaire she’d received. She wanted to burn the paper, or at least ignore the probing personal questions, but that would be an admission of guilt.
She’d have to fill out the damned form and was supposed to breach her customers’ confidence by describing what they talked about while in her studio. Like that would happen. The questions came first, then later the surveillance equipment to record every conversation and class, as well as Olivia taking care of her business, would arrive.
The restrictions seemed to grow every week, and there was a reason rooted in logic for each new rule. The newest, the earlier curfew, was because studies had shown that people “required” between eight to ten hours of sleep per night to be at optimal performance at their jobs. Since most people had difficulty getting that much sleep, the government had taken the choice from them. It was ridiculous, just like every other restriction. She was so tired of hearing “for your own good,” “for the good of the sector,” and “for your protection.”
After leading the class through the warm-up routine, she instructed them to practice their moves with each other and went to her desk. The only reason she stayed was to help keep her neighbors safe. She was tired of hiding. Maybe she should move on like Jake. She tossed her pen onto the desk and stood.
Movement from the plate-glass window at the front of the studio caught her eye. She nodded at her ex-husband’s boyfriend. Kenneth glared at her with enough venom to bring physical pain. She resisted the urge to give him a one-finger wave and went back to her students, wondering why he’d picked today to seek her out.
Kenneth hadn’t always been so mean to her. When Sandy started seeing him three years ago, he’d been sweet, kind, and a friend. Now he was exceedingly jealous of what she’d shared with Sandy, which, in retrospect, wasn’t really any more than close friendship. Despite how he held Sandy’s heart in his hands and their obvious love for each other, for the past few months he’d avoided her like she was some kind of threat to their relationship. She loved Sandy. He was her best friend, but she didn’t know how much longer she could maintain their friendship if she had to continue to deal with Kenneth this way.
She sighed, motioning her students close, so she wouldn’t have to speak loudly. Even though there were no cameras in the building, the ones on the street could watch the movement inside, thanks to the damned window she should have taken out before all the visual and auditory monitoring shit started last year.
“This is probably the last normal class we’ll have.” She went through the routine they’d been working on. “They’ll be listening to everything soon. I received a survey that I have to return by morning. I’d rather cut my losses and cross the border than betray you, so I’m closing the studio for the next few days until I can figure out what to do. You all know how to find me if you need something.”
She demonstrated a punch, stepping back to allow them to practice and discuss the information. At least now it seemed like they were practicing with full-on contact.
“Fucking bastards. When is Jenner going to reclaim his position, and eliminate this bullshit?”
“He’s trying. A lot of people have stepped forward in support. Of course, most of them have died.”
“Jenner can’t be trusted any more than whoever is running things now. He’s the one who put most of this shit in motion to begin with. It’s his fault there are so many serum babies. It’s his fault the damned revolution even happened.”
“He’s already apologized for the stuff that led to the revolution. He made some mistakes, but he also fixed a lot of screwed up stuff he inherited when he took office.”
“But he didn’t do anything to stop the stuff he started. Jenner messed with things that should have been left alone. He was the one who insisted we announce our abilities for the good of the sector, under the lie of expanding our skills so the government could use us. That was bad enough, but the testing? The death threats? The restrictions on personal freedoms for no known reason except some damned research? Bullshit.”
“Remember all of the good things Jenner did before he got sick. He got this sector in pretty fucked-up condition.”
“He helped put us in that fucked-up condition before he even took office. He’s been involved in running this sector in some form for almost twenty years. He’s as corrupt as the jerkoffs in power now. Everything he says is a lie.”
“Doesn’t matter. I’m out of here. There’s a group heading for the southern border tonight. Be at the old elementary school by midnight if you want to get out of here.”
“Crossing the border is impossible.”
“I have to try. Everyone is trying. Jake left last night.”
“Seriously? Why, if so many people are crossing, hasn’t there been any help coming our way from the other sectors? I heard Midcentral’s governor is talking to Jenner about psychic testing now. We might not be safe anywhere.”
“It’s still worth a shot. They’d make an example of anyone caught. You know that. Besides, crossing’s better than going to the farm. I’d rather die on the way to freedom than slowly wither away collectively while waiting to be saved. I heard they’re using serum kids to help power their security field. They’re treating them worse than dogs, worse than the current administration. If that’s even possible.”
Olivia sighed, letting them rant, talk, and argue, as she continued to go through the routine with the class. She couldn’t give up her work with the resistance, but she had no idea what to do anymore.
After class ended, she put up a sign announcing the studio would be closed tomorrow. She locked the front door, then headed to the grocery store to purposefully purchase some of the items on the current list. Grabbing the ingredients for spaghetti and meatballs, Sandy’s favorite dish, she changed her mind and decided to make what she was hungry for. When finished shopping, she headed home.
Maybe she was only tired, but as of right now, she was ticked at Sandy. For everything. Most of all, she was ticked for the eight wasted years thinking they were going to have children and grow old together. Maybe she should call and tell him not to come over. Maybe she should call a halt to doing anything more than talking to Sandy on the phone on occasion.
Showering eased her mood a little. She still wanted to catch stuff on fire, but it wasn’t as bad as when Sandy had left her for Kenneth, and she’d spent severa
l weeks torching what was now becoming government housing.
Sandy knocked on the front door exactly on time, which was so like him. Before Olivia got to the door, she knew Kenneth had come, too. Damn it. She definitely wasn’t in the mood to exchange barely veiled insults with him. If he started anything tonight, she was liable to knock those bleached teeth down his throat. From what Sandy said, he only acted like this around her. She wished she could figure out what had changed.
She pasted on a smile and opened the door. “Kenneth! I’m so happy you could make it. Come in.” She kissed Sandy’s cheek, noticing the red stain that covered Kenneth’s flawless skin.
She pecked him next, wondering how much facial product he used and what his face was like without the makeup. He was a gorgeous man, but too perfect and processed for her liking, especially his short brown hair with the copper highlights.
Kenneth and Sandy were complete opposites physically. Sandy’s blond hair was long and wild and he was a little heavier around his middle, while Kenneth was lean and fit and spent more time on his appearance than anything else. She guessed they were more than compatible in other ways and supposed that was all that really mattered.
Kenneth’s lip curled. She saw the brief movement as she pulled away, before he could replace it with a charming smile. The vibes coming from him were toxic. He definitely had an alternate agenda for coming over tonight.
She knew how he felt about people with abilities. Sandy had promised he’d never tell and swore he hadn’t. That was one thing she knew he wouldn’t lie about. He knew how dangerous it was for her. But he’d never believe Kenneth would turn her in, though the exact opposite was most likely the truth.
Quickly grabbing another place setting, she returned to the dining room to find them in an intimate embrace. Kenneth did it on purpose to attempt to rile her, his way of showing her he had what she’d lost, like it would upset her or something. Okay, maybe she occasionally goaded him by reliving with great embellishment certain times of Sandy’s and her marriage. Still, she’d only started that after his jealousy became too much to bear.
Ignoring the embrace, she called them to the table as if they’d been studying the pictures instead of groping each other. She passed the salad as soon as they sat down, eager to get dinner over with, so they would go home. At least she felt comfortable eating the produce, since she’d grown it in her basement greenhouse. Kenneth fumbled the bowl while passing it, nearly spilling the greens into her lap. She wondered if he’d done it on purpose as she loaded her plate.
Kenneth watched her, probably to see if she’d react to his clumsiness. She ignored him and picked up her fork. Sandy reached for the bowl as Kenneth moved his arm, knocking his water over in the process. Jumping up, she went to the kitchen to grab a towel, and Sandy followed.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with him tonight. He was so excited to come over, but he’s been a brat ever since we got here. We’ll leave as soon as dinner’s over. You shouldn’t have to put up with his insecurities after the past twenty-four hours.” Sandy took the towel from her.
“Thanks. It has been a long day.” Olivia leaned against the counter and took a deep breath.
Sandy patted her shoulder and went into the dining room. Dinner couldn’t be over fast enough. With a bright smile, she took her seat, ignoring the damp tablecloth and the air of recrimination. Sandy was mad at Kenneth, but that wasn’t her problem.
Picking up her fork, she speared the greens. Kenneth watched her intently as she took a bite, his deeper emotions impossible to read. A slight medicinal taste spread across her tongue, and she knew what he’d done. She swallowed before she could stop herself. The burn started in her throat, trailing the whole way to her stomach. Poison. Shit. She grabbed her wrist to control her heart rate and hopefully slow the drug’s entrance into her bloodstream. Her brain blipped, but Kenneth’s smug smile stuck in her vision.
“Fuck. No.” She stood, stumbling backward over her chair.
Sandy yelled, but it sounded like it came from somewhere else. Olivia smelled smoke. She’d started a fire. Oh God. What the hell was she going to do?
She rolled sideways, kicking the chair away as another fire erupted at her feet. She couldn’t put them out with the drug in her system. All she could do was start another. Kenneth laughed, or maybe she imagined that. She didn’t look at him as she moved her left hand to the pulse in her neck and fumbled in her pocket for her cell phone. She pressed in the number she’d memorized and tried to hold onto consciousness long enough to rasp out one word.
“Help.”
Chapter 2
Flames touched him. Foul, thick smoke choked off Luke’s air as heat consumed his body. He fought to get out, swinging when the blaze wrapped around his arm. Something cold landed on his bare chest. He managed to take a deep breath, blinking against the light from the lamp beside his bed. He sat up and rubbed his eyes before dropping his head in his hands. That damned dream again.
“Dude, that was probably the worst one since the beginning.” His brother, Matt, watched him from his still-made bed.
“I hate fucking fire. What the hell?” Luke threw the wet washrag Matt had tossed on him to the floor and stood. His chest was wet, and his head threatened to explode.
“Dunno. You okay?” Matt stretched out on the bed, his arms behind his head.
“I will be. Why do I keep having this dream? It’s been years.” He didn’t expect Matt to answer, but that didn’t stop him from wishing the reasons would magically appear from the window in this stinking hovel of a motel. “I hate this place. It smells bad. What are we doing here?”
Matt shrugged and got up to grab a shirt from his duffel. Luke knew why. That didn’t mean he had to like it. He hated the premonitions as much as he hated fire. But he had to do the right thing. They’d stay here until the call came, and then they’d rescue whoever needed their help. It was part of what they did.
The paying jobs to locate family members here and in other sectors were few and far between these days, which was fine since the resistance was heating up. People didn’t have the extra money, and what they did have, the government controlled to the penny. The fines for ridiculous misdemeanors and ever-increasing cost of living forced people to submit to the plan just to feed their families. Luke hated that more than a thousand fire dreams.
“Answer my phone when it rings,” he said, throwing it on Matt’s bed.
He slammed the bathroom door, wishing for a better noise than the weak protest of aging drywall. He heard his cell phone ring. Hopefully this was the call he’d known was coming, and they could get out of this shithole.
“Let’s go.” Matt knocked on the bathroom door. “Major issue.”
Luke tossed his shaving kit into his duffel and shoved into his boots as Matt waited by the front door. They were on the road within minutes.
“What’s the story?” Luke adjusted the night-driving glasses, as if not having the headlights would keep them from being detected. The rumble of the Corvette’s engine echoing off the surrounding buildings usually had the power to calm Luke, but not tonight.
“It’s one of the network. We can only assume she got a dose. She’s out of control from what I could hear in the background.” Matt tapped the dash. “Turn right at the next intersection.”
“Who?”
“Don’t think you know her. Olivia Sanders.”
“The firestarter? No fucking way.” Luke almost slammed the brakes on. There was no way they were helping a freaking firestarter.
“She’s more than that, and you know it. Take a right at the pine tree. She’s been a huge asset to the network. She’s an amazing healer, too.”
“I heard. Join her fan club, why don’t you? I didn’t think we were going to have to rescue a flamer. You know how I feel about firestarters. They have an evil streak—a huge evil streak. You know that firsthand. You’re too forgiving, and you’re taking her. I’m out of this.” No wonder he’d been dreaming of fire ag
ain.
“Turn left on Chestnut. You can’t blame every firestarter for what happened to us,” Matt said. “It was Dad’s fault.”
They weren’t going to get into this ages-old argument now. Luke didn’t care if they ever spoke about it again.
He shook his head as he stopped the car behind the house, the acrid scent of smoke and betrayal filling his nose. Matt went to check the front of the property as Luke let himself in the back-door A half-dozen or so minor fires flickered in various places in the kitchen and dining room. He wondered why they didn’t spread as he stomped out one close to his foot.
A panicked-looking man hovered over a lean brown-haired woman lying on the floor. Another man watched her writhe with what could only be described as gleeful disdain. The scene wasn’t pretty, but she was. Her scent filled him, a calming scent that tucked away most of his rage. A thin, dark-blue T-shirt revealed a fit body with just the right muscle-to-curve ratio. He had to force himself to focus. She glanced up as he entered, the pleading expression and the softness under the panic drawing him to her side. He could smell the poison coursing through her system.
“What happened here?” he asked, not caring that the pretty boy jumped at his tone.
“We were eating dinner. She lost control.” The man who appeared concerned studied him with barely concealed interest.
“And you are?” Luke knew he shouldn’t want to touch her, but he did. Laying his fingers on her neck, he ignored the way her pulse seemed to join with his as her heart rhythm steadied.
“Harry Sanders. Sandy. I’m her ex-husband. This is Kenneth.” He stepped away from the flame that had erupted at his feet.
Luke nodded, biting his lip against a disparaging remark about having dinner with your boyfriend and your ex-wife. “Put the fires out. Kenny, hand me a pillow from the couch.”
Into the Fire Page 2