The Lost Savior

by Siobhan Davis

  “That doesn’t assuage my guilt,” I whisper back. “What if I’ve permanently damaged their minds?”

  Kylie sends me a sympathetic look. “I’m sure you haven’t, but, look at it this way—it’s one less problem to worry about.”

  After we finish our homework, I walk her out to her car, glancing around to make sure no one’s looking as I take off running. But nothing happens this time. No matter how far I push my body, how fast I run, it’s at my usual pace, and there’s zero evidence of superspeed ability. I’m beginning to wonder if I conjured the whole thing up. Returning to Kylie’s side, I’m relieved but a little dejected too, which is ridiculous really. “Maybe I imagined it,” I mumble. “Or maybe I’m losing my mind.”

  “Or you haven’t mastered it yet,” she proposes. “Maybe you just need to practice.” She leans back against her Honda, pursing her lips as she thinks.

  “Once it’s not on the running track at school,” I muse.

  “God, yeah. Perhaps you should try every night at home until you’ve figured out how to switch it on and off. You’ll need to learn to control it, so you don’t mess up and out yourself in public.”

  “I just remembered something else,” I tell her. “Whatever weapon injured me could still be out there. We should try and find it. It might hold some clue as to what we’re dealing with.”

  “Let’s go back after school tomorrow.”

  “I can’t. I have practice and Coach will chew me out of it if I miss it again.”

  “Fine. Let’s do it Wednesday instead.”

  “Man, you’re so awesome with weird.” I pull her into a hug. “Thank you.” I ease back, looking her straight in the eye. “For believing me and for supporting me. I think I’d be institutionalized by now if it weren’t for you.”

  “That’s what friends are for.” She hugs me back, before opening the driver side door. “And you should probably thank Daniel. I think he’s anesthetized me to all this stuff. There isn’t much that phases me anymore.”

  “Speaking of,” I say. “Did you find anything useful in his stuff?”

  Her face falls. “He has everything locked up, and I couldn’t get into anything. He’s totally paranoid about government collusion and corruption, so he doesn’t leave any stuff lying around, and everything’s encrypted on his laptop.”

  “Wow. Hardcore.”

  She rolls her eyes. “You’ve no idea.”

  “Maybe we should bring him into our confidence.”

  That would not be a good idea.

  I scream as the thought appears in my mind, and Kylie jumps about ten feet in the air.

  I whirl around, my eyes checking the dark surroundings, but there’s no one there.

  Kylie’s inquisitive gaze is locked on mine.

  “Sorry,” I say, dragging a hand across the back of my head. “I thought someone put another idea in my head, but I think I’m just driving myself crazy. I’m going to go to bed, and, hopefully, when I wake up this will all have been a bad dream.”

  One can hope.

  I give her one final hug. “Drive safe, and I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

  I get ready for bed and send Jensen a message before switching my cell on silent. I’m yawning as I walk to my window to pull the curtains closed when that same charge sparks to life. My veins are thrumming, and that invisible coil in my chest starts moving, snaking in and out, caught between euphoria and frustration. I stop breathing as a movement outside catches my attention, and everything goes on lockdown inside me.

  I find the figure almost straightaway.

  Hiding under the shadows at the far side of the fence, just in front of the steel barn.

  The form is blacked out, so I can’t detect any features.

  But I don’t need to.

  I know it’s one of them. The four.

  The way my body is reacting is the only proof I need. That, and the intrinsic knowledge rooted deep inside me that tells me so. Like Saturday, when I instinctively knew what to do. It’s all bound together, but I can’t fathom why.

  Yanking the curtains across the window, I race to my bed, tugging the covers up over my head as an intense bout of shivering wraps around my body. I’m debating what to do, whether I should tell Dad and get him to call the cops, when the tingling awareness fades, and my limbs relax.

  Without looking outside, I know he’s gone.

  I’m tempted to message Jensen and ask him to come over. I need his arms around me to sooth the frayed edges of my nerves, but he’ll have questions I can’t answer, so I quell the craving for my boyfriend and shut my eyes, praying for unconsciousness to overtake me.

  But it takes me ages to fall asleep, and when I do, my dreams are hijacked by four sexy guys who refuse to go away.

  I’m yawning profusely as Jensen drives me to school the next morning. He’s a little frosty, which is most unlike him, and I guess what happened yesterday pissed him off even more than I thought. “I’m sorry,” I say. “About lunch yesterday. I don’t know what came over me.”

  “I do.” His tone is curt, but I detect the hurt and the uncertainty underneath it. “They were staring at you like they wanted you. They didn’t even attempt to disguise it, and you didn’t know what to do with that.” His hands clench the steering wheel tight.

  “I didn’t.” That’s the truth but only part of it. And isn’t it typical of Jensen to look to place the blame elsewhere. He has me on a pedestal, and, as I’ve often thought in the past, there’s only one way I’m getting off it. “But I still shouldn’t have reacted like that. I didn’t mean to, and it won’t happen again.” I lean over and press a kiss to his cheek. “You know you’re the only one for me and that I love you to the moon and back.”

  His shoulders visibly relax, and he stops clutching the wheel so tight. “Love you too, babe.”

  Pointed fingers and hushed whispers follow me out of the truck and up the path toward the front entrance. Jensen grips my hand tighter, glaring at anyone who dares make eye contact. “Ignore them,” I say. “It’ll be old news before the day is out.”

  We start climbing the steps, and Jensen falters, his jaw tautening as a newly familiar sensation creeps over me.

  Hell. Not now.

  Jensen wraps his arm protectively around my shoulder as we take the last few steps. I know those guys are close by, but I purposely keep my eyes directly ahead, ignoring the growing compulsion to search them out.

  A deathly quiet has descended on the crowd entering the school building, but I ignore them too.

  My system is going bananas as we step under the doorway into the hall. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot them. All four of them standing just inside the entrance, clutching book bags and wearing similar intense expressions.

  Looking hot, beautiful.

  My mouth drops open as the thought plops into my mind. Before I can stop myself, I twist my head around to look at them. The blond winks and grins. Jensen growls under his breath at the same time the hulking guy with the cropped hair and massive muscles kicks blondie in the shin. The guy with the glasses just shakes his head, while the scary intense dude watches with an impassive expression on his face.

  Jensen ushers me along the corridor at speed. “I’m going to kick his ass,” he proclaims when we reach our lockers. “I’m going to kick all their asses,” he fumes.

  “You can’t kick his ass for looking at me. Besides, that’s not who you are, and it’s one of the many reasons I love you.” I loop my arms around his neck in an attempt to calm his raging temper.

  “Says who?” He takes my hands off his neck, yanking his locker open as he grits his teeth. “And he wasn’t just looking at you. He winked at you.”

  I open my locker, organizing my books for the morning. “And it was cringe-y and pathetic. Trust me, you have nothing to worry about with those guys.”

  “That’s not the way it’s looking to me,” he snaps, and my mouth hangs open for the second time in a minute.

  “What do you mean
by that?” I close my locker and zip up my bag.

  “Are you into him or something? The wannabe Biebster? You like that punk ass pretty boy look?”

  “I like the nerdy inventor boy look,” I reply, dropping my bag and circling my arms around his neck. “Babe, please don’t read anything more into this. I’ll ignore them, and I suggest you do the same. Don’t get into anything with them, please. Promise me?”

  Thankfully, this time, he wraps his arms around my waist, visibly relaxing. He leans in to kiss me, and the door of his locker swings out, hitting the side of his face. “Motherfucker!” he yells, palming his red cheek and glaring at the four new guys as they walk by, as if they are somehow responsible.

  “Here, let me see.” I remove his hand, inspecting his flushed cheek for any sign of injury. “It’s a bit red, but I think you’ll live.” Then I put my lips on his, tasting him slowly and softly, pouring all the love in my heart into the lingering kiss.

  “Wow,” he says in a breathless tone when we finally pull apart. “If that’s the reward, I should get hurt more often.”

  Chapter 11

  The morning drags by unbelievably slow, and every class is a repeat of the previous one: with pointed fingers, teasing words, and nasty looks. I’ve just about reached my tipping point by the time I wander to the science lab. I’m taking my books out of my bag when that inexplicable sensation kicks in again. I curse under my breath, hating the new familiarity, but at least it gives me ample warning to compose myself. My spine stiffens as I place my books on the table, keeping my head down and silently screaming inside.

  I knew this would happen.

  What are the odds of four new students arriving and at least one of them not being in at least one of my classes?

  The tingling intensifies as he takes the stool beside me. I let my hair fall around my face like drapes, holding my breath while I debate whether I should just make a run for it.

  After a minute, a throat clears, and a rich, sonorous voice speaks. “Hi.”

  His deep voice is clear but low. Pulling my big girl pants on, I lift my head and turn to look at him, shock splaying across my face when I see who it is. For some reason, I was expecting the flirty blond, but it’s the cute guy with the glasses, and he’s looking at me uncertainly, almost shyly, with a small anxious smile.

  “Hey.” My tone is clipped, my smile forced, before I remember who I am. This may be unchartered territory for me, but I’m not usually rude or unfriendly, and, underneath all the freaky stuff, I’m still me. I desperately need to cling to that, because if there’s one thing I’m sure about right now, it’s that I never want to lose sight of myself. I offer him a genuine smile this time. “I’m Tori. You’re new here?”

  Way to state the obvious, girl.

  He nods, pushing his glasses up his nose as he sends me another timid smile. He clears his throat again. “I just moved here with my family.”

  “Where from?” I ask, ignoring the looks we’re picking up from every corner of the room. All conversation has muted, and every set of ears is trained on this conversation. What a nosy bunch of gossips.

  “Montana, but we’ve lived all over. We move around a lot.”

  “How come?”

  He scratches the back of his head, causing his hair to fall forward onto his forehead. Reddish-brown strands are highlighted under the fluorescent lights.

  “Our dad travels a lot for work.”

  “Oh. So, you’re used to being the newbie?”

  “I don’t know if I’d put it quite like that. It doesn’t really get any easier,” he admits, taking out his books.

  I’m trying really hard to ignore the simmering connection between us, but when he looks down at the exact spot where our invisible strings appear to be sharing an intense meet and greet session, as if he can sense it too, it’s extremely difficult not to lean closer to him.

  That thought has me scooting back in my chair, putting as much space between us as possible.

  His cheeks stain red, and he fiddles with the leather bands around his wrist. “So, um, Tori, have you lived here your whole life?”

  I nod. “Yeah, and I’ve barely even traveled out of state, so our upbringings couldn’t be more opposite.”

  “Have you liked living here?” He props his head up with one hand, holding me in place with gorgeous green eyes. I’m vaguely aware of the teacher walking into the room.

  “For the most part. It’s a bit insular sometimes though.”

  “And what about your parents? What’re they like?”

  I smile. “They’re awesome. They adopted me when I was a baby, and I couldn’t have chosen better parents for myself. They’ve never made me feel any less important for not being their flesh and blood.” Tears sting my eyes. “I definitely hit the parent jackpot.”

  He stares intently at me, in a way that’s unnerving. He swallows hard. “That’s good. I’m glad.”

  Our conversation ceases when the class starts, but I can’t relax at all thanks to the strange buzzy connection flickering between us. Briefly, I wonder if I should ask Mom to take me to the doctors to have my head examined.

  When the bell rings, I’m out of my seat in a split second, stuffing my books in my bag and slinging it over my shoulder. “Nice talking to you …” I trail off, realizing he never told me his name.

  He stands up, towering over me, and it makes a nice change. Although Jensen stretches over me by a few inches, I don’t have to exert much effort to kiss him. I’d have to reach up on tiptoes to kiss this guy.

  Stop, Tori. My God, what the hell is wrong with me?

  I can’t believe my mind went there, and I’m immediately guilty and so grateful Jensen can’t delve into my brain.

  “Beckett,” he says. “My name’s Beckett, but my brothers call me Beck most of the time.”

  “Those guys are your brothers?” My tone carries my surprise. “You look nothing alike.”

  His cheeks flush again. “We were adopted as babies too.”

  What a bizarre coincidence. I don’t know how I feel about the fact we have this in common. Our town is small, and I’m the only adopted child around. Until now. Beckett has an expectant look on his face, and I speak the first words that come to mind. “Oh. Wow. Your parents are awesome too. They must’ve had endless patience to cope with four babies at once.” And the current testosterone overload, I add in my head.

  His neck is covered in red splotches, and two pink spots appear on his cheeks. “I, ah, yeah. I guess.” He fumbles over his words, and it’s actually cute. “I’ve got to go. It was great to finally meet you.” He runs off then as if he can’t get away from me fast enough.

  I’m shaking my head as I make my way toward the cafeteria, wondering what the heck that was all about, when his words properly register. He said finally. It was great to finally meet you.

  What on earth does that mean?

  The rest of the day passes by with predictable normalcy, and I’m glad. At lunch, I stay glued to Jensen’s side, purposely ignoring the almost-magnetic pull toward the back of the cafeteria. I know they’re there, but I manage to avoid looking in their direction; however, I’m hugely distracted, and I know Jensen can tell. He wears a glum expression for the rest of the day.

  I’m warming up on the track after school as Coach barks out instructions to the team when my heightened sense of awareness starts acting out. Internally, I groan. This is already starting to get old. How the hell am I going to cope with this for the next six months until graduation?

  The guys from the boys’ team come sprinting out of the tunnel, and this time I groan out loud. Every so often, Coach likes us to train with them to get our competitive juices flowing.

  “Listen up,” Coach Warner says, clapping his hands. “The boys are joining our practice tonight, and you will be running in pairs.” He starts reading names off a clipboard, and boys and girls start pairing up. “Victoria King and Maddox Roth,” he hollers, and the musclebound new guy with the cropped hair jogs
toward me.

  How typical.

  No matter how hard I try, I seem incapable of avoiding these guys.

  I slyly size him up as he approaches. With his bulging biceps and broad shoulders, he doesn’t have a runner’s body, and I’m surprised to see him here.

  The electrical connection goes crazy, as I’ve learned to expect, so I bite the inside of my cheek and start bouncing on the heels of my feet in an effort to ignore the pull. A muscle clenches in his jaw, and he gives me a curt nod when he reaches my side, but he doesn’t attempt to speak, and I’m grateful for small mercies.

  We are called up first, and we set off at a leisurely pace. I’m nervous over what happened last night, but so far everything is normal and I’m running at my usual speed.

  After the first couple of miles, he picks up the pace, jogging ahead of me. I easily match the new speed, even with my shorter strides. He glances sideways at me, a slight scowl on his face. Feeling bold, I quicken up, moving ahead of him and putting some distance between us. He closes the gap instantly, his scowl expanding, and that spurs me on. I push myself even farther, nudging ahead of him again, and this time he emits a sigh of frustration. My lips twitch, but the smug feeling doesn’t last long. He takes off running at a very fast pace, waving at me in a superior manner as he jogs past me. That raises my hackles, and I strain my limbs, pushing myself to the limit of human speed. My super-racing ability would come in very handy right about now.

  I’m not an overly competitive person in most aspects of my life, but put me on the running track and I turn into the most competitive bitch on the planet. I’m not going to let a little thing like physicality stop me from beating his ass. None of the guys on the team have been able to better me, which is probably why they paired me against the new guy. I’m determined to retain my unofficial crown as the queen of this track, and I barely exert myself as I race to his side.

  In what is a most uncharacteristic gesture, I thrust my middle finger at him as I stride past, pushing and pushing myself to go faster and faster. He ups the ante, racing past me and sticking his tongue out as he charges ahead. That cranks my frustration and my competitive juices to a new level, and I belt after him until I’ve caught up.