New Identity

by Tenaya MKD

  “What's on your mind?” Cayde asked.

  “Don't you know the answer to that already?” I snapped.

  “Goodness, grumpy! No, I don't. I only know that you are upset about something. It has you feeling angry and frustrated. But I don’t need an ability to see the way you’re stomping down the hall.”

  “Does Harper hate everyone, or am I just special?” I asked, as a way of answering his question.

  “She has no patience, but she isn't generally hateful. Why? Does she hate you?”

  “She apparently doesn't like that Eric and I spent some time together yesterday. Are they together?”

  “They sleep together pretty regularly, but I wouldn't call it a relationship.”

  “Well, it seems like she does.”

  After a brief pause, he said, “I didn't much like you two spending time together, either.”

  “Why is that?”

  He scoffed. “I know Eric… And I suppose it made me jealous.”

  “Oh,” was all I said. But he must have sensed that butterflies had started flying around my stomach, because he was smiling. It was the same knowing smile he gave me in Sarah's apartment when we met.

  With that thought, the butterflies stopped dead. A nervous churning replaced them. I knew what he must have sensed on my mind that day.

  “Why are you embarrassed?” he asked, grinning.

  “Okay, stop that! I can't believe you actually said this power wasn't a big deal!”

  “I’ve been getting better at it recently.” He laughed. “But I would never do anything to influence you... again.” Seeing the look on my face, he quickly added, “We’ve let that go already, right?”

  He had some nerve, telling me to let it go, when he's the one who messed with my head! But when I remembered the broken table, I nodded.

  The past can stay behind us.

  “So, why were you embarrassed all of a sudden?” his smile returned.

  “Shut up!” I could feel heat rising into my cheeks.

  He laughed and lightly put his hand on the small of my back to guide me to the door on our right. The butterflies were revived.

  The training room was epic. An obstacle course, free weights, and a huge crash pad for sparring, were all surrounded by a track skirting the walls.

  Quinn blew the whistle she had hung around her neck, and everyone gathered in a line at the edge of the track. Cayde left my side to join them. I took one more gulp of my coffee before reluctantly abandoning the cup at the door to follow.

  This early in the morning, Quinn's hair seemed even brighter. Her whole being did. This was clearly her element.

  “Alright, everybody. Five minutes of stretches, and then we're doing some laps.” The whistle blew.

  I stood there, looking like an idiot, while everyone else stretched.

  Lily stood with her back against the wall. Then she folded forward and lifted a leg into splits—against the wall! It looked insane. I thought it must be painful, but her hair hung loose around her face, so I couldn't see if she was grimacing. Her body looked like grace personified though. If she was uncomfortable, she hid it well.

  Zane was nearby, bending over to touch his toes.

  That seems doable.

  I was bent over, admiring my tan canvas shoes, when Eric came up behind me. “Need some help, sweetheart? I'd be happy to help you with your form.”

  “No, thanks. Your girlfriend has already threatened to beat me up.”

  “Oh, don't worry about her. She’s all bark.”

  But I stood up to find Harper was stretching her arm across her chest about fifteen feet away, staring me down like she would be more than happy to bite my head off.

  “Are you sure about that?” I asked. “I'm really not looking to get into any fights—at least not my first week here.”

  “Well… maybe worry a little.” He laughed, and I gave him a death glare of my own. “Oh, come on. I’m mostly kidding!”

  “Oh good! Mostly!” My sarcasm was heavier than the biggest dumbbell on the rack.

  For the rest of the five minutes, I copied the stretches Eric did, feeling like an idiot every second of it.

  His jumpsuit clung to his arms, chest, and ass brilliantly though, so he was at least nice to look at. For a moment, I regretted not taking him up on his offer. It certainly would have been fun. If Harper is going to attack me anyway, it might as well be for a good reason.

  Quinn blew her whistle again before my imagination had completely undressed him. “Give me a two-mile warm-up.” Another whistle. “Go!”

  To play it safe, I started slow. I might be able to handle two miles, or I might die, panting on the track floor after one lap. I wasn’t sure. But when I fell behind the group, I couldn’t help but kick into a higher gear.

  Can't have people thinking the new girl is weak.

  My legs reacted to my demands with ease. Muscles in my legs, back, and even arms woke up to propel me forward. I caught up to the front of the pack quickly and kept the pace. At the end of the two miles, I felt damn good. If the training session had ended there, it would have been a nice day.

  The whistle blew again. Its sound was already beginning to grate on my nerves.

  “Today, I want you working with your powers. Eric, I don't want a repeat of last week. If you can't restrain yourself, don't bother participating.” Eric's grin said that whatever had happened last week, he wasn't sorry.

  Another sharp whistle, then everyone dispersed. Each person seemed to know exactly where to go and what to do. Except for me, of course. The last thing I wanted was to look out of place though.

  When Eric strolled over to the punching bags, I followed him. Just to have somewhere to go. I had no idea how to possibly work on my useless power anyway.

  There was one punching bag that looked much larger than all the others. Naturally, that was the one Eric claimed. “You need a bag?”

  “They do look like the most fun equipment in the room.”

  “Well, you’re welcome to work out with me, but you’ll want to use the one over there.” He pointed to the bag farthest from him. “Just in case. I tend to get a bit wild.” He winked. I rolled my eyes, but a smirk tugged at the corners of my lips.

  When I’d stepped back, he took his fighting stance. He struck the bag, and I was shocked by the force he could use. I’d heard him when he said he had superstrength, but he was more powerful than I’d imagined. Even the huge, Eric-sized bag swung widely when he hit it.

  With his size, you’d think he would be slow on his feet. But that wasn’t the case at all. He was quick. He threw combinations of punches and roundhouse kicks at the bag, with the speed of a martial artist, but with the power of Super-man. “Impressive” didn’t cover it.

  When he paused to move a second target nearer to him, I clapped.

  “Why, thank you! It’s nice to have an audience.”

  “How long have you been training to fight like that?”

  “Just as long as I’ve been here.”

  “No way!” I’d expected him to say years.

  “Quinn is an excellent coach.” He turned back to his targets and punching bag.

  I shifted my attention to the rest of the room. Zane was disappearing and reappearing all over the place. He’d materialize and I would have just enough time to lock my eyes on him before he disappeared again.

  He appeared only a few inches to my right, scaring the crap out of me. My hand shot up to my chest. “Jesus!” I laughed breathily. “That’s amazing, Zane!”

  He beamed. “Isn’t it?”

  “Could you teleport me over there?” I asked, pointing across the room.

  “Not yet. But I’m working on it. Every time I try to take someone with me, I go, but they stay put.”

  “Well, as soon as you figure it out, I want a turn.”

  “You got it!” he said, and then disappeared, popping up again in the corner of the room where Lily was standing with her eyes closed.

  As I watched her, an o
rb of bright, white light grew around her. An electric current danced over the top of the glow, seeming to contain it. I had no idea what it was doing, but it looked really cool.

  Cayde and Oliver were lifting free weights with a man that looked like Oliver, but with curlier hair. Cayde had a dumbbell in each hand and was curling them on alternating sides. My gaze stuck on him longer than I’d intended.

  Just as he was turning to look in my direction, I threw my eyes away from him, landing them on Quinn and Harper sparring on the crash pad. Once they had caught my attention, I couldn’t look away.

  Quinn moved more like she was performing a high-impact dance than fighting. She met Harper’s fierce attacks and redirected them with ease, using Harper’s own force against her.

  Harper was a skilled fighter too, but she was too aggressive to use the same grace that Quinn did. She was a blunt instrument, where Quinn was a deadly blade.

  Harper threw a roundhouse kick to Quinn’s side, but Quinn was ready for it. She clapped her hands onto Harper’s ankle, swiftly lifting it upwards and sending Harper onto her back with a thud against the mat. Quinn dropped her knee across Harper’s chest, pinning her down. She wasn’t using much direct force in this fight, but I had the feeling that was only because this was training. In a normal fight, Quinn would have no issues beating an opponent senseless.

  Harper was seething now. Her eyes were blazing, trained on her coach, while she tried to push herself up from the ground. She couldn’t get out from under Quinn’s knee though. The more frustrated she got, the more her eyes glowed—literally. At first, I’d thought I was seeing things. But in just a few more ragged breaths, her eyes became as red as the streak in her hair.

  Eric abandoned his punching bag to intervene, but Quinn put her hand up to stop him. He nodded, but stayed nearby, ready to step in if Quinn changed her mind.

  “Harper, control your emotions. You can do better than this,” Quinn said. It didn’t look to me like Harper made any new effort though. She was beyond pissed. And she seemed to want to show it.

  Harper’s skin was starting to glow to match her eyes. It was almost imperceptible, but I thought I saw her body start to vibrate too. Besides Eric, no one else had stopped their training to watch this all go down. Like Harper flying off the handle and glowing red was commonplace.

  “Are you really going to let a sparring session make you lose control?” Quinn asked her.

  I wasn’t so sure that she was losing control though. Whatever was happening, she didn’t seem to want to stop it. A scary smile spread across her face, just before she disappeared, leaving a growling wolf standing where she had been.

  It snapped at Quinn ferociously. Quinn threw herself away from the wolf as quickly as she could, but it lunged after her. It snapped wildly at her leg, eventually landing on her calf and biting down. There was a loud crack, like her leg broke under the pressure of the wolf’s jaws. Quinn let out a strangled yell as blood poured from the wound.

  Eric threw himself on the wolf and hit it once in the back of the head. It fell limp onto the floor. “Damn, she’s fast! You should have let me knock her out sooner. You okay?”

  Quinn was standing on one leg, bleeding profusely from the other. Still, no one was rushing to her aid. I was in shock.

  There was enough blood pooling on the floor now to make me feel woozy.

  “I’ll be fine in a minute. I really hoped she would get herself in check this time. She has been improving.”

  I finally had to interject. “Can we get you a bandage, or something? That’s a lot of blood on the floor.”

  “I’m fine,” Quinn said.

  “But tha—”

  “Just watch,” Eric said.

  Quinn ripped away her bloody pant leg to reveal the whole wound, and just as she did, it began to disappear. Within thirty seconds, the torn flesh was closed. Besides the drying blood still on her leg and clothes, it was as if the wound had never been there at all.

  My eyes widened. “Wow.”

  The wolf’s body began to vibrate and glow bright red, then Harper reappeared in its place, naked.

  “So, is she a werewolf, or...?”

  Eric laughed. “Wolves are her favorite, but technically, no. She is very different from a werewolf. Werewolves aren't real.”

  I couldn't help but laugh. Not that long ago, I hadn’t thought any of this could be real.

  “She's a shapeshifter,” Quinn said. “Eric, you better take her to her room. Sam can check her out later.”

  Eric picked her up, like a small child who had fallen asleep for nap time, and carried her off to bed.

  “How did you heal yourself like that?” I asked Quinn with amazement. I’d seen a lot of impossible things at the facility, but nothing as unreal as watching her skin stitch itself back together.

  “That’s my ability. I’ll heal from almost anything.”

  The more I saw other people using their abilities, the more I hated mine. They could do awesome things like rapidly heal and teleport! And here I was just trying not to do… whatever the hell you’d call what I do.

  No one else here had ever lost their memory, or woken up with a dick they didn’t have before. I felt cheated.

  16

  My first shift in the garden was a couple days later. “Everyone has shifts so that we all do our fair share,” Cayde told me, when I complained about having to be woken up again. “You’ll get used to it,” he said. But I didn’t want to get used to it, I wanted to sleep.

  When I walked into the garden, I was clinging to the coffee Cayde had given me. “Woah,” I whispered, only a few steps inside the door. The garden was massive. An extensive variety of plants and trees grew in boxes throughout the room; organized so that they surrounded the larger boxes that seemed to hold various veggies. There were walkways where they were needed, but the plants ruled the space. It was shocking to see so much greenery amongst the cement walls. Standing in this room, I could almost forget I was underground.

  I took the path that weaved through the room, enjoying the warmth coming from the overhead sunlamps. Eventually, I found the man who had been lifting weights with Oliver the other day.

  “You’re late,” he said, carrying planks of wood out of a shed and lining them up against the wall.

  I took a sip of my coffee. “Mmhm.” I wanted to assure him it was a miracle that I was there at all, but I managed to hold myself back. “I’m Nova.”

  He set down the plank he was holding and sighed. He was clearly thrilled to meet me. “Yeah, I’ve heard. I’m Wyatt. Yes, I’m Sam’s brother. Yes, we are twins. No, I’m not as smart as she is.”

  Okay, then.

  I took a big gulp of coffee to ensure my mouth was too busy to ask how he got quite such a large stick up his ass.

  He strode back into the shed, and I followed. I didn’t want him to think I wasn’t going to pull my weight.

  Along the back wall, there stood stacks of wood in different-sized cuts. They gave the small shed that distinctive, fresh-lumber smell. Tools of most every kind hung on the walls to either side of us, meticulously organized on shelves or hooks.

  “Our tasks are to repair the roof on the big shed and build a planter box. Do you know how to use a drill?” he asked.

  “Of course, I know how to use a drill.”

  I had no idea if I knew how to use a drill. I’d figure it out though. If for no other reason than to wipe that damn, condescending look off his face.

  His eyebrows raised. “Really?”

  “I’m a woman, not an idiot, Wyatt.” I took a last swig of my coffee and set the mug on a toolbox in the corner. “Give me the drill.”

  He smirked. “Well, alright then.” He handed me one of the cordless drills and a box of screws. “I’ll do the roof first and then help you with the box.”

  Before I could insist on helping, he pushed past me and left the shed.

  “I’m more than capable…”

  I walked out of the shed, just in time to see him do
a weird little hop and come ten feet off the ground. Before I had a chance to wonder, “what the hell?”, he flew by me. I had to duck out of the way to avoid getting smacked with the planks he was holding. He landed on the roof of the shed across the garden, left the wood, and then flew back.

  He came to a stop in front of me, still hovering a foot off the ground. “I’ll take the drill, now,” he said, with his hand outstretched.

  “I’m more than capable of helping you.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll let you help with the planter box. Just let me get the roof out of the way. It’ll go a lot faster.”

  My patience for his attitude was running thin. “Or, how about you stop underestimating me, and let me build the planter box while you fix the roof?” I shoved the box of screws into my back pocket, turning away from him without giving him a chance to respond.

  With some wood in hand, I set off to examine one of the existing planter boxes and bullshit my way through making a new one.

  When Wyatt came flying toward me a while later, I was finishing up. There was an extra plank of wood under one of his arms. The other was outstretched in front of him.

  It’s a bird, it’s a sexist jerk, it’s Lumber-man. No, Plank-man. Wood-man?

  He stopped beside me, but stayed hovering over me. “I’m impressed, Nova. It looks pretty damn good.”

  I put in the last screw. “I know it does.”

  We cleaned up, putting our tools and the extra materials back in the small shed. Wyatt never touched the ground.

  “Do you ever just walk somewhere? Like a normal person?”

  He grinned. “Why would I do that? Honestly, if people stopped giving me shit about it, my feet would never touch the ground!” We both laughed. I was laughing more at him than with him, but he didn’t seem to mind either way.

  Maybe if my power didn’t suck ass, I’d be obnoxious with it too.

  Not working together had actually made Wyatt and I a pretty productive team. Our chores were done in half the time they would have been, if we'd needed help from each other.