The White Knight & Black Valentine Series (Book 4): Kill Them All

by Brand, Kristen

  “Uh....”

  “Tell you what.” I put my hands on my hips. “If you can keep me from reading your mind to find out where you put it, you can keep it.”

  “Do I have to?”

  “It’s good practice.”

  She groaned. “Fine. Give me a sec.”

  She sat on the edge of her bed and raised her defenses. The best way to keep someone from reading your mind was to focus on something so intently that the mind-reader couldn’t redirect your thoughts. Elisa started mentally playing through a song on the flute, imagining every note like she had the instrument in hand. I inserted the word body lotion into her thoughts, but she kept her focus on the flute, feeling the cool metal beneath her fingers and the air leaving her lungs as she blew.

  Not bad. I tried a mental image next, calling up the cream-colored bottle and shiny gold label in her mind. That summoned her memories: she’d taken it from my bathroom yesterday and put it in her bag.

  Elisa dropped an f-bomb and flopped back onto the mattress—or at least she would have had it not been covered with junk. She jerked back up when she hit a stack of books and shoes, sending them toppling to the floor.

  “This is why you should put things where they belong,” I said pointedly. It’s also why she shouldn’t try to “borrow” things from one of the greatest thieves of all time (though maybe I’m a little biased).

  She put a hand over her face. “I know.”

  The corner of my mouth quirked up. “But you did a good job. I know government agents who couldn’t keep me out of their heads that long.”

  “But you still got in.”

  I shrugged. “I’m the best there is. Give it time. Someday, you’ll be as good as I am, maybe better.”

  Elisa picked up a T-shirt off her bed and stared at it contemplatively. “Aunt Bianca said I’ll never be as good as you because you won’t give me the same training you had.”

  At times like these, I had to be careful to control my own thoughts and emotions in case Elisa picked them up. She didn’t need a mental image of me punching my sister in the face. “When did she say that?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

  Elisa shrugged.

  “Well, it’s bullshit. Your aunts were all trained the same way I was, and none of them are at my level. Bianca doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

  I took a calming breath. The person who’d trained my sisters and me had used mind-control to make us cut ourselves and touch hot stoves until we developed the power to shield our minds. There was no way in hell I’d put Elisa through anything like that. Why had Bianca even mentioned it?

  Searching for a distraction, I sensed Dave’s thoughts on the edge of my awareness. “Your father has the boat hooked up.” And he’d listened to me and backed up the car instead of pulling it himself. I’d have to reward him for that later. “Put this stuff away quickly and bring your suitcase downstairs.”

  She tossed the T-shirt she was holding into her open suitcase, where it landed atop a bunch of other clothes she hadn’t folded. I cringed, thinking of her wearing wrinkled shirts for the whole vacation. Then I spotted a cord half-buried beneath the other stuff on her bed.

  “And don’t forget your cell phone charger,” I said. “It’s not really a vacation unless you send pictures to your friends and make them jealous.”

  A smile made it partway across Elisa’s face before flickering and falling away. She swallowed, staring off into nothingness, and I opened my telepathic senses to find out what was wrong.

  It was Haley.

  I shouldn’t have needed telepathy to figure that out. When Bloodbath had attacked the Hero Experience theme park, Elisa hadn’t been there alone. She’d gone to the park with friends, and not all of them had been lucky enough to make it out alive. Haley Flores, Elisa’s best friend since junior high, had been one of Bloodbath’s first victims. Part of the reason I’d planned this vacation was to take her and Dave’s minds off the traumatic events of that day, but with one stupid comment, I’d brought it all rushing back. For a split second, Elisa had been thinking about sending Haley vacation photos before remembering her friend was dead.

  After clearing a spot on the bed, I sat down next to her and wrapped my arm around her. She rested her head on my shoulder, and we sat like that for a time, me sending thoughts of warmth and love at her while, in the back of my mind, I fantasized about all the things I’d do to Bloodbath if he wasn’t already dead. After several minutes, when I sensed she had a better hold on herself, I stood up.

  “You really need to clean this place up.” I kissed her on top of the head. “And remember the charger. You need it to send sexy pictures of yourself in a swimsuit to Rosa.”

  “Mom!”

  Elisa went bright red, and I smiled. Embarrassment was a much better emotion for her than grief. Once I left her room, however, the smile slipped from my face.

  Once upon a time, I’d had very different priorities in life. I’d wanted to be nothing less than the greatest supervillain who ever lived, and depending on who you asked, I’d succeeded. But that had all changed when my daughter was born. After that, my biggest goal in life was to ensure her childhood would be nothing like mine had been.

  I wanted to give her a life that was loving, stable, and safe. I aced the first one, but the next two… not so much. Between my stint in prison, exposure to her late grandfather, and the constant supervillain attacks, it was a miracle she’d turned out so well.

  But that was in the past. All Elisa would have to worry about now was her grades, her girlfriend, and picking out what colleges she wanted to apply to. And Dave would finally get that quiet, relaxing retirement we were supposed to have been enjoying all this time, had various superpowered psychopaths not conspired to ruin it. I didn’t want him doing anything more strenuous than rubbing suntan lotion on my back.

  Me? I’m a terrible person. If life was fair, I’d be spending the rest of my years in prison or rotting in a shallow grave. Dave and Elisa had somehow ended up in my life even though I didn’t deserve them. They were wonderful, caring people who deserved nothing but happiness. And this week, I was determined to give it to them.

  Chapter 2

  We’d taken two days to drive from Miami to Key West, stopping to see the sights along the way. We’d gone snorkeling over colorful coral reefs, scattering schools of bright fish and in Elisa’s case, stumbling onto a shark. It was much less dangerous than it sounded, since it would break its teeth if it tried to bite her, and she’d tried unsuccessfully to get a selfie with it. In the evening, we’d dined at beachside bars, where I tasted some excellent conch chowder and sampled a few too many tropical cocktails.

  Our suite at the resort had been extravagant, with a wide balcony looking out over a private beach, tiki torches lighting up the pool patio as night fell. The bed in the master bedroom had been large and luxurious, and Dave and I had come very close to breaking it and needing to pay the hotel compensation. By the time we reached the end of our drive, the car was weighted down with seashells and other souvenirs. Dave and Elisa had the little-known superpower of being able to pick out the most impressively ugly T-shirts ever. Dave wore a Margaritaville one, in an awful shade of salmon, that had parrots on the front in bright, clashing colors, and Elisa had chosen one that was tie-dye. Tie-dye. I really needed to lower her allowance.

  I classed up the group with a summery dress and a fabulous, floppy straw hat, but there was only so much I could do. Most of my purchases were gold jewelry with nautical designs, and let’s be real here: charging the trinkets to my credit card didn’t hold the same thrill as stealing them. But I was being good. I’d resisted that urge for years and wasn’t about to jeopardize the life I’d built with my family for a bracelet shaped like a mermaid, as cute as it may be.

  The main plan for the vacation had been to take out Dave’s boat, and we departed early morning after leaving the car in a parking garage. The day was perfect for it, and we cruised across the blue water, encountering a pod
of dolphins at one point. I kept my hat and sunglasses on, since too much sunlight irritated my scars.

  We arrived at Boca Grande Key around noon, picnicked on the beach, and spent the afternoon swimming. It was a small, sandy island with nothing more than tangled shrubs and short trees, and half the beach was closed off for wildlife preservation. Normally, that wouldn’t have stopped me, but to spare myself Dave’s lecture about everyone doing their part to protect the environment, we kept to the open half. It was gorgeous: the sand sun-warmed and pale; water impossibly clear and blue and growing gradually darker as it stretched out toward the horizon. I was sure the restricted beach would have been even more beautiful, but we’d had a good time, nonetheless.

  Now, we were back on the boat, anchored offshore and settling in for the night. The vessel rocked up and down in a gentle rhythm, the only sound that of waves rolling onto the island’s shore, then receding with the tinkling of shells and sand. More importantly, the only thoughts to hear were our own. The last of the other visitors had left around four o’clock, and we had all of Boca Grande Key to ourselves.

  Elisa and I sat on a fold-out bench at the back (stern, excuse me), sipping mimosas. The table in the cockpit wasn’t nearly as nice as the elegant dinette below, but you couldn’t see the sunset from down there. It was almost over, leaving a flush on the horizon and a gold stain on the blue waters. We enjoyed the view—or rather, I did. Elisa’s gaze was glued to her phone, where she texted Rosa. Whatever they were chatting about put a smile on her face, so I didn’t interrupt her.

  The scent of garlic, cilantro, and lemon had been wafting up from the galley for some time now, so it was no surprise when Dave called, “Come and get it!” I stood and whacked Elisa lightly when she didn’t follow, and the two of us went downstairs to get plates of grilled fish and carry everything back up to the cockpit. Soon enough, we had a three-person dinner set up under the stars.

  “This is excellent,” I told Dave after the first bite, the tender fillet falling apart in my mouth with just the right mix of spice and citrus. “Maybe I should fire Eddy and hire you as my cook.”

  He gave me a sly smile. “I might be interested.”

  “Where’d you learn to make this?” Elisa asked.

  Dave took his gaze from mine and smiled at her. “Your abuela taught me.”

  “Did you want to learn how to cook, or did she make you?”

  “I needed to learn so I wouldn’t have to survive on pizzas and microwave dinners. We should teach you, too, before you go off to college.”

  Elisa made a face.

  “It’s a basic skill everyone needs to know,” Dave said.

  “Mom doesn’t.”

  “Leave me out of this,” I said.

  Dave shook his head. He didn’t say anything out loud, but his thoughts went something along the lines of him being amazed I managed to function.

  “Hey,” I said, “I know how to disable an alarm system with a hair pin. I have a wealth of useful skills.”

  “But you don’t have any practical ones,” he teased.

  “That’s because I’d rather spend my time practicing important things. You’ve never complained about my skills in other areas.”

  The corner of his mouth turned up as our gazes locked.

  “Oh my God,” Elisa groaned. “Will you both knock it off? I’m going to spend the night on the island. Actually, why don’t you spend the night on the island and leave me the boat.”

  “Oh, I suppose—” I stopped. What was that sound? A boat motor? Dave had heard it, too. He stood up and peered out over the water, but it had gotten too dark to make anything out. The last vestiges of sunset had faded, and dark clouds covered the moon. I could barely find the horizon in the inky blackness.

  “Aw, man,” Elisa said. “I thought we were gonna have the place to ourselves for the night.”

  That wasn’t what I worried about. The motor’s growling spread out over the waves, hard to pinpoint, but it was getting louder. The starboard side. It sounded like it was coming from that direction, but when I looked, I didn’t see anything.

  “Shouldn’t they have their lights on?” I asked in a low voice.

  Dave nodded. “It’s too dark to see the channel. They’re taking a big risk of hitting a sandbar.”

  I squinted. A slightly less dark blotch looked like it might be moving over the water, but I could just as easily be imagining it.

  “They could just be stupid,” I said. “Once they get a little closer, I’ll know for sure.”

  Once they got within range of my telepathy, I’d know everything.

  The motor cut off, leaving only the sound of water splashing against the side of our boat. They’d stopped right outside my range. Dave and I exchanged a hard glance.

  “Elisa, get below,” he said.

  “What?”

  “Get inside now.” I pushed her toward the stairs. Dave went to cut our lights.

  We didn’t move fast enough.

  Bullets hit the boat, an innocuous pop pop pop that made me dive to the floor. Elisa crouched beside me, instinct overriding the knowledge she was bulletproof.

  “Cover your mom!” Dave said. “I’m going to pull up the anchor.”

  Be careful, I told him mentally. The deck’s slippery.

  He gave me an incredulous look. You’re worried about that?

  I crawled to the stairs, Elisa right behind me. She was trying to keep her body between me and the bullets. I’d used Dave as a human shield plenty of times, but using Elisa left a nasty feeling in the pit of my stomach. That wasn’t how mother–daughter relationships were supposed to work.

  Dave killed the lamplight we’d been eating by to make us less of a target, but the small red safety lights still gave away our location, as well as the lights below deck. We were sitting ducks until Dave could raise the anchor. The deck was incredibly slippery, thank you, and even more treacherous in the dark. I hurried down as bullets struck the boat like rain.

  The inside salon looked deceptively safe: soft lighting and warm teak paneling, all sheltered from the action outside. But the boat’s hull hadn’t been designed to stop bullets; there was no protection here. I lunged across the narrow space and tore open the drawers under the bench of the dining area, dragging out a trunk.

  Bullets tore through the interior bulkhead, shattering one of the portholes on the opposite side. I flinched. Elisa shrieked. I heaved open the trunk.

  An AK-47 rested inside. I pried the magazine from its case and loaded it.

  “What do I do?” Elisa crouched beside me, hands over her head.

  “Stay calm. Stick by me,” I said. “If the boat starts sinking, jump into the water and stay away from debris that could drag you down. You don’t have to worry about bullets.”

  “You do.” Her voice wavered.

  “That’s what I keep you and your father around for.”

  I took her by the arm and rushed back to the stairs to the cockpit, keeping her between me and the bullets. I didn’t like it, but I liked the idea of her watching me get shot even less. Where was Dave? I scanned the boat. He was at the bow, hauling in the anchor. Okay. Another minute, and we could get out of here.

  “Shit!”

  She stumbled back, and I grabbed the side of the hatch, nearly falling back down the stairs. “You okay?” I asked.

  “Yeah, I—shit, bullets really hurt.”

  She clutched her shoulder. She’d been shot.

  My throat tightened. I sucked in a breath through my nose, trying to fight off every maternal instinct I had. She was invulnerable. She’d be fine. Sending her back below and telling her to hide under the bed would not make anything better. I knew that, but my body wouldn’t move.

  “Mom?” she asked.

  I swallowed. “I’m fine.”

  We kept low in front of the steering station. I could just barely make out Dave crouched on the bow.

  Brace yourself, I warned him.

  What—

  I pointed
the assault rifle in the direction of our attackers and opened fire. The noise was deafening, but I didn’t flinch. If only the other boat was in range of my telepathy. I wanted to feel their panic as their defenseless target fired back. Then again, if they were in range, I’d have no need to shoot at them.

  You brought an AK-47 on our vacation, Dave didn’t quite accuse.

  And isn’t it a good thing I did?

  Our attackers returned fire, breaking the windshield with a crash. Ah, there they were. I adjusted my aim.

  Dave sent me a brief mental image of the anchor in its locker. Get us out of here.

  Not until you’re back in the cockpit. The bow had a low safety rail, but I didn’t trust it to keep him from slipping off once the boat was underway. I had no intention of leaving him in the water for our attackers to pick up. Were they after him or me? And who the hell were they? I hated being ignorant.

  I’ll be fine, he thought. Just go.

  No.

  Our standoff didn’t last long, not when he could sense my willingness to sit here until sunrise if necessary. Mentally cursing, he made his way back across the foredeck. I focused on shooting. I’d kept the gun on semi-automatic, but the magazine was nearly empty. No telling how many guns they had on the other boat. We needed to cut and run now.

  “Help your father,” I told Elisa.

  She stood up and extended her hand, helping Dave climb down through the opening in the windshield. I fired a few more rounds and moved to start the engine.

  A low boom echoed over the water.

  Rocket launcher.

  Before I could even gasp, Dave grabbed me and threw. I hit the water, and the world exploded. A flash of yellow cut through my eyelids and obliterated my night vision. I flailed, choking on salt water, not knowing which way was up or down. My arm felt like it had been ripped from its socket. My lungs didn’t have enough air. Calm, I ordered myself. I opened my eyes, the seawater stinging, and saw blurry orange lights a little to the left of my feet. The way up. I twisted and kicked, swimming for the surface as fast as possible.