Generation 18: The Spook Squad 2 (26 page)

“The shifter who took Finley’s form in the labs a month ago passed all security checks, too, but that didn’t make him the real Finley.”

Jessie regarded her intently. “Why do you think it was a shifter and not Gabriel?”

Sam frowned. “I don’t know. It’s just something I sense sometimes.”

“Gabriel did mention this ability, remember?” Stephan shared a brief glance with his sister, then his gaze returned to Sam. “Why didn’t you alert security first?”

Because
that
would have been the smart thing to do. She blew out a breath. “I didn’t stop to think. She was heading for Gabriel’s office, probably to get the relocation list of the adoptees.”

Stephan’s gaze narrowed slightly. “You keep saying ‘she.’ Why?”

“Because the shifter in question is Rose Pierce, also known as Michael Sanders, State Police officer. I
did
send that information to you.” She hesitated and watched the realization dawn in their eyes. “Yeah, your sister’s killer. And you just let her walk away in your rush to get me to the torture room.”

“We are not torturing you,” Stephan growled.

“Then what do you call not offering someone with severe laser burns medical help? A picnic in the park?”

“Security, get medical help in here right away.”

Sam smiled grimly. One point for the innocent victim.

“How can this woman be a cross-gender multi-shifter?” Jessie glanced at her brother. “That’s not possible, is it?”

Stephan frowned. “I certainly didn’t think it was.”

“Well, at least one person has it,” Sam muttered. The fire in her leg and shoulder was beginning to fade against the deeper burning in her left side. If medical help didn’t get here soon, she
would
be screaming.

Stephan met her gaze again. “You’re certain it wasn’t Gabriel?”

“Yes. And if your security people had done their job properly, you would have had Rose confined, not walking free. You might even know where Gabriel is right now, rather than continuing this aimless conversation with me.”

His brief smile was grim. “Ah, but see, you’re going to help us find Gabriel.”

She blinked. “I think you just lost me.”

Stephan resumed his pacing. “Jessie is not only both an empath and clairvoyant, but she also teaches the use of psychic abilities. You and Gabriel have formed a connection—a bond, if you like. He has used the link at least once to find you. You are about to return the favor.”

She shook her head. “I don’t—”

Stephan took four strides and leaned down, his face inches from hers. Anger radiated from every pore, and she met his stormy gaze and swallowed. There was no compassion in this man’s eyes, no humanity. The only thing he cared about was his family, and she had no doubt he would kill
anyone
who threatened his family’s safety in
any
way.

“You will do this.” His voice was soft, without inflection. He didn’t need it. His eyes held enough violence to spark a war. “You will find my brother, whatever the personal cost. You owe him your life, and you
will
return the favor.”

“Stephan,” Jessie warned softly, touching his arm.

He swung away and resumed his pacing. There was a savageness in every action, a raw brutality that had not been evident before now. Was this the real Stephan, or was it merely a by-product of his worry for Gabriel?

She suspected the answer might lie somewhere in between the two.

Jessie touched her hand again. Sam met her cat-green gaze.

“I showed Gabriel how to use the link. That’s how he found you at that demolition site.”

“Then thank you for saving my life, but that doesn’t mean I can return the favor.”

“Yes, it does. The link would not have formed if one or the other did not have the capacity.”

“But I don’t have the capacity. Ask
him
.” She pointed her chin toward the pacing Stephan. Even that small movement sent ripples of pain down her body. Her stomach turned, threatening to rise. She swallowed heavily. “He’s seen the test results. I came in negative.”

“You came in neutral,” Stephan corrected. “Not the same thing.”

“I’ve never attempted anything like that. I wouldn’t even know where to start!”

“As Stephan said, that’s why I’m here.” Jessie’s gaze was shrewd, calculating. “Are you willing to try?”

As if she had a choice? “What do you want me to do?”

“Close your eyes.” Jessie’s soft voice took on an almost hypnotic quality. “Concentrate on the darkness and the sound of my voice. Take deep, slow breaths.”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Pain ripped through her, as sharp as a knife. She swore vehemently. “Get me some damn painkillers or I’m out of here.”

As threats went, it was pretty lame—not only because she was strapped down, but because her leg was as numb as her arm, and any sort of quick movement would be nigh on impossible anyway.

“No,” Stephan said, his voice abrupt, harsh. “Painkillers will dilute your ability to concentrate.”

She glared at him. She was really beginning to dislike the man. Yet it was easy to see why he, rather than Gabriel, ran both the SIU and the Federation. “So does pain, buddy, believe me.”

Jessie squeezed Sam’s fingers lightly. “This won’t take long, as long as you concentrate. Then we can let the medical help in.”

Meaning they were going to keep her in confinement until they’d thoroughly checked her story?
Bastards.
And that fact, if nothing else, hardened her resolve. She’d meant what she’d said before—she’d had enough of these people. She wanted out, wanted to go back to the State Police. At least there she’d be treated a little more fairly—even if she
had
shot her partner.

“Let’s get on with it, then.” She closed her eyes and tried to ignore the throbbing aches in her body.

“Bring Gabriel’s image to your mind. Concentrate on it.”

She frowned and did as Jessie asked. Gabriel’s image swam through her mind, its focus blurred, distant.

“Concentrate,” Jessie whispered. “Imagine your mind as a hand, capable of reaching out and touching him.”

Sweat trickled into Sam’s closed eyes, stinging. She tried to ignore it. Gabriel’s image went in and out of focus, as if viewed with some ill-adjusted lens.

“Reach for the image, Samantha. Reach out and touch him.”

“I can’t,” she whispered. There was some sort of barrier between them, preventing her from reaching across. A fence of her making, not his.

“Focus on the image, Samantha. Focus until you can feel his presence within every fiber of your being. Then let your mind touch his.”

She concentrated on the blurred image, willing it to become clear. Sweat trickled through her hair, along the side of her face. Abruptly, the image became focused, and she was there, sharing his mind, his thoughts. His eyes.

The ground sped underneath them. They arrowed toward a doorway, heart pumping as fast as their wings. Behind them, the air shuddered with sound. Heat sizzled. They soared upward. The shot hit the wall, spraying metal through the air. They flew through the doorway and into the open skies. Freedom, if they could get clear fast enough. Another shot. Again, they dodged. But this time the shot hit, exploding through wing and muscle and bone.

Agony surged through every fiber and tore her mind from his. She screamed, then darkness hit and she lapsed into unconsciousness.

When awareness returned, it was again to the sensation of someone shaking her shoulder.

It should have hurt, but it didn’t. She frowned. Gabriel had been shot, not her. He was alive; that much she knew. For how much longer was anyone’s guess—and there wasn’t one damn thing she’d seen that could help them in any way.

“Samantha, open your eyes and look at me,” Jessie demanded, her voice cracked with worry.

She opened her eyes and said, “He was shot while trying to escape. That’s all I know, all I saw.” All she felt.

“Fuck.” Stephan thrust a hand through his hair. “There has to have been something you saw that can help us find him.”

“He was in a warehouse of some kind. It was abandoned.”

“Which leaves us with probably a thousand choices citywide,” Jessie commented, her expression worried as she glanced up at Stephan. “How much manpower can you muster?”

“Not nearly enough, quickly enough,” Stephan muttered, and resumed his pacing. “Even if we pull in the Federation operatives, it’ll still take hours.”

In which time Gabriel could have bled to death if he didn’t get medical help. The phone rang in the brief silence.

Stephan grabbed the receiver almost savagely. “Byrne here.”

He listened quietly for several minutes and then said, “Get all available teams down there immediately, but don’t move until I join them.”

He hung up and swung round, his expression an odd mixture of anger and surprise. “Why didn’t you tell me you’d ordered a break team for Whittiker?”

“When did I have the chance? I was shot and dragged down here for questioning. I don’t believe I was given much of a chance to say anything.” She hesitated, more to keep her growing tide of anger in check than anything else. Stephan was not someone whose bad side she wanted to get on. “Why? Have they got an address out of him?”

“Yes. A warehouse in Altona.” He pressed a button on the side of the phone. “Security, cancel the medics and take Agent Ryan straight down to medical. I want a twenty-four-hour guard placed on her.”

“Gee, nice to know that I’m trusted.”

Stephan barely glanced at her as he walked toward the door. “Until I check out your story thoroughly, you will remain under guard.”

And if they didn’t find Gabriel at the warehouse address Orrin had given them, she was in big trouble. That much was obvious.

The door opened. Three gray-clad security officers strode in.

“Barnes, I want full identity tests taken on anyone entering the building.”

Barnes, a big man with craggy features, frowned. “That’ll cause a bit of hostility, sir.”

“I don’t care. Just do it.”

Barnes nodded and stepped aside as two medical officers came in, guiding a gurney between them.

“I’ll let you know what happens,” Jessie said to Sam, then rose and stepped away as the two doctors approached.

One shoved a needle none too gently into her arm. Thankfully, it was her numb arm, she thought wryly. After a few seconds, the throbbing aches that assailed her body began to ease and her eyes grew heavy.

The doctors picked her up and placed her onto the gurney. The last thing she saw was Stephan handing Jessie a laser rifle as he walked from the room.

She dreamt again of the white room. This time Joe’s shadow was less indistinct, more man-shaped than merely a blot of darkness.

“You called to me again. Why?” His voice held just a hint of annoyance.

She shrugged. “It’s not as if I do this consciously. It just happens.”

“Nothing just happens, Samantha. You reach out because you wish to talk. But your timing right now is not the best.”

“Why? What does a street bum have to do that is so important?”

His amusement washed over her. “Who said I was a street bum?”

“That’s the image you present to the world, isn’t it?”

“It is. But I am not what I appear. You’d best remember that.”

The soft warning sent a chill down her spine. She knew nothing about this man, who, conversely, seemed to know so much about her. She didn’t even know if she could trust him. And yet, he’d saved her life, had given her somewhere to live when she most needed it and had come to this room when she called—even if she wasn’t aware that she had called.

His sigh was a breeze that stirred past her hair. “What troubles you?”

“I did a search on the pin. It led me to Mary Elliot.”

“Did it, now?” There was no surprise in his voice. He’d obviously known all along where it would lead.

“She kept confusing me with a woman named Josephine. Kept insisting I had a brother named Joshua.”

“And do you?”

His shadow swirled slowly around her. Though he appeared relaxed, she could almost taste his tension.

“I have dreamt about Joshua, but I don’t know who he is.” She studied the shadowed form in front of her for a second. “Just as I don’t know who you are. You might be Joshua, for all I know.”

“I might. I might not.”

“And the answer will be found in here,” she retorted, lightly touching her chest, just above her heart. “When I am ready to find it.”

She sensed more than saw his smile. “Took the words right out of my mouth.”

“What a surprise.” She stared at the ceiling for several seconds. Though the bright light was harsh, it did not hurt her eyes or make them water. “Am I a product of Hopeworth?”

His essence stilled. “I have said before that I cannot provide you with answers. You must seek them yourself.”

“Cannot or will not?”

“Will not.”

She nodded. He knew more than he would ever tell; that much was obvious. “I met with a General Frank Lloyd yesterday.”

“I know.”

“How do you know?”

His smile swirled around her. “As I said before, I know more than you comprehend.”

She didn’t bother raging against his obtuse answer, simply because it wouldn’t get her anywhere. “I have a feeling the general and I will meet again.”

Joe’s shadow began to move. Agitation stirred the still air. “Be wary of the general. He sees more than most men.”

“That’s because he’s not exactly a man, is he?”

Joe hesitated. “No, he is not. He is a product of Hopeworth, born and bred to do the bidding of the military. He is not someone you want anything to do with.”

She rubbed her arms. On that, at least, they agreed. “I may not have any choice in the matter.”

Concern churned around her. “You had a premonition?”

“Maybe.”

“Then get the hell away from here. Leave the state, if that’s what it takes.”