Powerless (Bird of Stone Book 3) Page 12

  “You thought right.”

  Jonnie looks around the room. “This isn’t all of you.”

  “No,” Liam agrees. “You caught us when most of us are sleeping, but this group is who you would be briefing anyway. And we’re all ears.”

  “Can we take it to the kitchen?” Campbell asks. “If I’m up for the night, I could use a cup of coffee.”

  Liam nods in agreement. “I wouldn’t mind a bit of tea.”

  “Maybe you guys can get dressed while you’re at it,” I suggest.

  “That would probably be more appropriate.”

  “I’m good,” Campbell announces contentedly.

  I roll my eyes, standing slowly. Nick helps me, the warm, solid feel of his hand still in mine like a security blanket wrapped around my soul. I kind of want to tell him he can let me go, that I’m okay, but what if I’m not? The fear of almost Slipping against my will is with me in my gut, and I’m not ready to let it go yet. I’m not ready to let him go.

  Nick and I make it to the door first. I push it open, bracing myself for the cold wind that’s always there. I’m ready for it this time, but what I’m not ready for is the angry face waiting for me on the other side. The eyes that lock onto mine with hate and disgust the same way they did months ago when I ditched her on this island to die. I’m not ready for that kind of déjà vu.

  I’m definitely not ready for it when Fry punches me in the face.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  MAX

  “Whoa!” I jump between Fry and Alex, pushing Fry back with my hands on her shoulders. My bare feet scrape sharply on the rough, cold asphalt, my skin screaming at the freezing air rushing around me.

  Fry glares at me but she puts her hands up in surrender. “Back off. I owed her that.”

  “Yeah, I’ll back off when you stop throwing punches, Ali.”

  “Oh, I’m Mohamed Ali? Because I’m black, right?”

  “No, you’re Ali because you’re coldcockin’ people.” I let her go, taking a step back from her. Putting myself outside her reach. “But way to make it racial. Nice.”

  “I didn’t knock her out.”

  I glance behind me to see if she’s right. Alex is sitting on the ground, blood pouring from her nose into her palm and onto her clothes. Her nose is probably broken but she’s awake, answering Carver’s quietly muttered questions as he hunches down in front of her. Beck is behind me, backing me up while everyone else circles Alex.

  “Not for lack of trying.”

  “What the hell?!” Alex shouts.

  Fry’s dark eyes go wide. “Don’t act surprised! You had that coming!”

  “You’re insane!”

  “I’m insane?! You left me to die and—”

  “No!” Alex shouts back. She pushes past Carver, pulling on Liam’s arm to yank herself up onto her feet. I’m surprised when she rushes toward us, blood on her face and murder in her eyes. “You don’t get to do that! You don’t get to act like I’m the murder, not after you stabbed me in the stomach!”

  Carver grabs Alex’s waist, holding her back as Beck falls in closer to Fry and me.

  “Can we just agree that you both tried to kill each other, shake hands, and walk away as friends?” I ask them calmly.

  Fry shakes her head, bobbing from her left foot to her right. “You just wait until your boys aren’t around,” she warns Alex. “I’ll finish what I started.”

  “I’ll be waiting,” Alex fires back fearlessly. “And you better hope you kill me this time because if you don’t, I’ll Slip you somewhere so far away even God won’t be able to find you.”

  “So that’s a ‘no’ to the handshake, then?” I ask.

  “Go to the showers,” Liam snarls at Fry angrily. I’ve never seen him so worked up before. It’s impressive. I didn’t know the old boy had it in him. “Do not leave that room. I’ll come speak to you when I’m ready.”

  She breathes heavily, her anger everywhere. In her eyes, on her face, in her breath. She keeps moving from foot to foot, unable to stand still. She won’t stay in that room. We all know it looking at her. “You can’t have her here with me. She goes or I go.”

  “Then go.”

  Fry blinks, surprised. She played a hand she thought she could win. She wasn’t ready to lose everything. “I mean it.”

  “So do I.” Liam steps through the group, unafraid to get right up in Fry’s face. “Go.”

  “How? There’s no boat. No plane.”

  “I’ll take you anywhere you want to go, but you’ll never come back.”

  She sneers at him. “You’re right I won’t.”

  “Come with me. We’ll gather your things and you’ll be on your way.”

  “You think they can keep you safe? They’ll get you killed, Liam! They’re traitors.”

  “Gather your things or you leave now with nothing.”

  “I don’t want anything.”

  “Your choice.” Liam grabs her arm. The air around me starts to crackle. To charge and vibrate, and then the two of them are disappearing. In a matter of seconds they’re gone and I wonder if they should have gone alone like that. Fry is crazy and Liam is not a fighter. Not as far as I’ve seen.

  I look at Carver to ask him if he’s thinking the same thing, but he’s not paying attention. He’s talking to Alex quietly. Calming her down. She’s on adrenaline now, but in a minute her face is going to start to hurt like crazy. We need to get her ice before then and there’s nothing we can do about Liam anyway. He’s gone. He’s on his own.

  “Come on,” I tell the group, my eyes finding Jonnie watching from the back. She ripples dark and concerned, a feeling I echo in the pit of my stomach. “Liam has things under control. Let’s get that coffee going.”

  My words don’t do anything to lighten the shadows around Jonnie or the heaviness in my gut. Probably because we both know I have no idea if they’re true or not.

  ***

  I hold up the pot of black coffee to the room. “Who wants?”

  Brody raises two fingers. “Here. Thanks.”

  “Paff,” Alex answers, her words muffled by the ice pack she’s holding to her face. The blue and white striped towel surrounding the ice is stained in blood, blotchy and faint, made almost pink by the water leaking into it. Her nose has finally stopped bleeding but it’s already swelling, both eyes turning plum purple. She’ll look gnarly for a few weeks but she took it like a champ. Not a tear out of her. Lot of swearing, but no crying. She’s tougher than she looks.

  “I would take some if I was there,” Jonnie tells me from the corner.

  I look over my shoulder, smiling at her as I pour. “Cream or sugar?”

  “Both.”

  “I’ll remember that.”

  “Dude, she’s not even physically here and you’re hitting on her,” Beck complains. “Do you ever stop?”

  “Never. It’s a numbers game. If I’m not putting up shots, I’m losing.”

  “Statistically untrue,” Carver corrects me, his voice muted. Dark.

  He’s trying to be cool. He’s looking at Alex as little as possible because every time his eyes find that towel on her face, her blood on the outside of her body, his jaw clenches. His teeth grind. As it is, his eyes are set hard, his hands clenched tightly together on the tabletop. It’s a good thing Fry is gone because I’m pretty sure Carver would have no problem punching a woman tonight. Over and over and over.

  There’s not much Nick gets bent out of shape about. It’s one of the things I like about him. He’s chill. But not when it comes to Alex. He cares about Alex. He’d go to hell and back for her. It’s a level of investment, of commitment, that I’ve never had before. Not about another person. It’s another one of those things I like about him. One of only two I envy.

  His ability is the other.

  “How long before we start to worry about Liam?” Brody asks as I hand him his coffee.

  I pinch my lips together unhappily. “Already there.”

  “I started worrying t
he second he Slipped away with her,” Beck agrees.

  “There’s nothing we can do about it. We don’t know where they went. All we can do is wait.”

  “I might be able to find him,” Jonnie offers.

  We all turn to look at her, something I’ve noticed not everyone is readily willing to do. I see how she could be kind of off-putting if you’re not insanely into everything about her ability, which I am. She really does look like a ghost or a hologram or a T Rex; basically anything you’re not used to seeing in real life. Anything that makes you look twice and kinda wish you hadn’t. Me, though, I’m trying not to stare. I get lost in the movement of her. She’s like a lava lamp or a campfire. I can’t look away and if I’m not careful, I’ll stare at her for too long and she’ll catch me. Why I would find that embarrassing is beyond me. I think I just don’t like being thrown off my game, but that’s what she does to me. I hate it but I kinda like it. It’s weird.

  “How would you find him?” Carver asks.

  “Liam was right; Slipping and projecting are really similar. You use energy basically the same way and energy leaves a mark. Slipping leaves a big mark. More like a hole.”

  “And you think you can find Liam’s hole?”

  I chuckle into my mug.

  The room ignores me and my dirty mind.

  “I think I can follow his energy,” Jonnie amends clearly. “He left recently enough, there might be traces I can track if you think he’s in trouble.”

  Carver looks at his watch, frowning. “It’s been over fifteen minutes. He should have been back by now. I think we should do it.”

  “Agreed,” Alex mumbles into the towel, her eyes large and concerned over the top of it. She turns to Jonnie. “Can I help you at all?”

  She shakes her head. “No. In fact, if you and Nick could not do anything until I come back, that would be good. You’re both really powerful. You’ll just confuse me.”

  “We’ll sit tight,” Carver promises.

  “Be careful,” I call to her.

  She pauses, brightening as she looks at me. “I could step into an atomic blast like this and it wouldn’t matter. I’ll be fine.”

  “Still.”

  “Still, I’ll be fine. Thanks.”

  I nod to her, feeling my stomach turn as she disappears abruptly. She doesn’t fade the way she did before. She blinks out, like a light turned off. A candle snuffed. It’s jarring. I don’t like the feeling.

  We wait in silence. Five minutes tick by. Another three. We’re past the point of wondering if Liam is coming back soon and quickly moving on to wondering if he’s dead. It’s a shift in the room that happens without a word, without discussion, but you can read it on all of our faces. In the silence we hold as we wait for Jonnie to come back.

  When we hit thirty minutes since Liam left, I start to think of the PJ’s Golden Hour. It’s the time frame from when a patient is injured to when we get them to the hospital. An hour is sustainable for just about any patient, even an Alpha injury. But once you’re outside that hour, they’re chances of survival drop drastically.

  I’m very aware of the fact that we’re halfway through Liam’s Golden Hour.

  Jonnie appears out of nowhere in the same place she left, startling the entire room. I stand at attention, putting down my full, cold cup of coffee with a thud. Jonnie isn’t light like she was when she left. She’s shadowed and gray, swirling violently.

  “Alex,” she gasps. “Are you okay enough to Slip?”

  Alex is already standing, casting aside her ice pack. “Where?”

  “Moscow. In a courtyard just outside the Kremlin.”

  “The Red Square,” Alex says breathlessly.

  “You know it?”

  “I’ve been there.” She clears her throat. “He’s alive?”

  Jonnie darkens further. “He’s hurt. Bad. She had a knife and she left him lying there alone. He can’t Slip. He’s too weak. He’s losing a lot of blood and there are guards close by. Someone is going to spot him soon if we don’t get him out of there.”

  I hurry around the table toward Alex, slapping Beck on the back as I pass him. “Wake up Gwen. Get a med bag from her. Tell her we have a critical patient on the way in.” I grab Alex’s hand, looking down at her seriously. “You’re our bird.”

  “I’m your what?”

  “Helicopter. You’re our transport. Let’s go.”

  “You’re naked,” she argues.

  “Not the time, SB. Let’s go get our man.”

  “But, you—”

  “He’s bleeding out, Alex!”

  Nick takes hold of her other hand, nodding to her calmly. “Let’s go.”

  Alex sighs as she closes her eyes, concentrating. I feel calm as we wait for her to Slip us out. The same calm I felt on the birds when we were helicoptered out to find wounded. You can’t get crazy. You need to be icy cold or you’ll mess up. You’ll get someone killed. Probably you, definitely someone else, and either way you’ll never be able to live with yourself afterward. It actually feels good to be doing what I love again, even if it means one of our own was hurt to make it happen. I feel like I have a purpose. I feel like I know where I belong, even as I fly through space, my body literally nowhere.

  When we land, it’s cold. Surprise! I immediately regret not getting dressed earlier. I didn’t at first because we had an emergency, or we thought we did, and then I didn’t because it bothered Alex and it was fun. Now it sucks.

  The square is dark and empty. Jonnie stands out like a sore thumb. So does Liam slouched on the ground under a lamppost, his hands over his naked, bleeding stomach. He’s on the backside of a hedge, out of sight of the guards around the Kremlin, but not forever. Eventually someone is going to round a corner and find him here. Probably someone less helpful than us when they find out he’s British without a passport, ID, or credible explanation for what the hell he’s doing here.

  Once my feet are mine again, I’m off. I’m running to him with Nick nipping on my heels. I skid to a stop next to him, my bare feet barking angrily as the cobbles cut into them. My knees are next, pissed off as I kneel down next to Liam. Nick does the same on the other side of him.

  Carver strips his shirt off to press it against Liam’s stomach, shoving Liam’s hands out of the way.

  “You with us, man?” I ask him briskly.

  He blinks hard. His face is coated in sweat despite the cold, his eyes half-closed against the pain. “Yeah,” he croaks.

  I put my fingers inside his wrist to take his pulse. Carver lifts the shirt to look at Liam’s wound for a second.

  He clicks his tongue unhappily. “She wasn’t playing, was she? Big knife?”

  “It felt bloody huge,” Liam grunts in reply.

  “Looks it.”

  Carver lowers the shirt, pushing down hard.

  Liam growls through gritted teeth.

  “Pulse is low but steady,” I tell Nick, releasing Liam’s hand. “As far as I know, he’s stable enough to move.”

  “I’ll go gently,” Alex promises, falling to her knees next to us. Glaring at Liam with wide, shining eyes. “Why Russia, you ass?”

  He winces. “Because of you.”

  “You did it to make me come here?”

  “I did it because you hate it here. You’re terrified of it. I thought she might be too. She doesn’t speak the language. No money. Their government is not exactly known for being friendly. I thought I could convince her to calm down if I threatened to leave her here. It didn’t work.”

  “No joke,” I mutter.

  “When I told her this was her home if she didn’t get herself together, she stabbed me. Not a word. Just her knife.”

  “Liam, I’m so sorry,” Alex weeps. Tears fall down her face, shining bright like stars under the street light. They’re a stark contrast to the blood that looks black in the shadow under her nose.

  “You’ve nothing to be sorry for.”

  “You Slipped her away because of me.”

  “
I removed her because she hit you and I knew once was never going to be enough for her. She’d kill you if she could.”

  “We’re ready to move,” Carver announces. He looks at me over Liam’s bloodied body. “Are you set?”

  “Why are you asking me?”

  “Because I don’t know what’s going to happen Slipping him injured like this. It might get worse before it gets better. I want to make sure you’re ready for anything.”

  “We slipped you with a bullet in your stomach. You survived.”

  “I’m made of stronger stuff than he is.”

  “Braggart,’ Liam grumbles roughly.

  Carver looks him heavily in the eyes. “Tell it to your dad, bro. He made me this way.”

  “I’ll bring it up the next time I see him, yeah?”

  I feel the Slip in my stomach as Alex amps it up. It’s dancing wildly, violently, and I feel bad for Liam. He’s used to piloting his own flight. Now he has to let his apprentice fly him home with a hole in his belly and she’s not a gentle ride.

  Alex doesn’t take us to the kitchen where we left from. Instead, she Slips us to the showers. She’s kind of a genius in that respect. It’s cold, meaning slower blood flow. There’s no crowd, no chance of Naomi seeing her brother like this. There’s a drain in the floor. There’s an abundance of towels, and I immediately run for the cabinet in the corner to find them. I grab fistfuls of bleached white fabric, then I dart back to Liam. Nick gives me a three count before we seamlessly swap out. I press the towel firmly against Liam’s stomach as Nick tosses the bloody, sodden fabric of his shirt aside.

  “Alex, go get Gwen,” Carver orders. “We need that med bag.”

  Alex runs from the room without question. Nick rolls a towel into a tube that he puts under Liam’s neck, trying to make him as comfortable as he can on the hard tile floor. He grits his teeth but he doesn’t make a sound as I press firmly on his stomach.

  “Now that she’s on the loose and pissed at all of us, what do you think Fry will do?” Nick asks me, sitting back with Liam’s wrist in his hand, watching his pulse.

  I snort. “Narc on us. What else?”