Mammon (10 page)

‘Neat.' Joe picked up a handgun and took aim.

‘Don't you point that thing at me,' said Grace.

‘Yeah, watch out,' said Sarah. ‘Accidents do happen.'

‘Yes, they do!' Maya snapped. She turned her gaze on Grace. ‘You and your brother are replacements.' She tilted her head, eyes hard through her bright red fringe. ‘A mentally unstable telepath got two of our team killed.' With a jaunty flick of her wrist, she loaded yellow cartridges into a handgun.

Sarah glared at Maya. ‘It wasn't her fault.'

‘Yes, it was. She was incompetent, arrogant and foolish.'

Sarah's eyes narrowed. ‘She's not here to defend herself, Maya.'

‘She's where she belongs now.'

‘Shut up! You've got no idea!'

Maya just shrugged.

Grace stared at Sarah. ‘Who's she talking about?'

Trembling with anger, Sarah watched Maya turn to the other mercenaries.

Grace touched Sarah's arm. ‘Hey, are you okay?'

Sarah's face was flushed, her eyes ablaze. ‘I'm fine.' She closed her eyes and breathed. ‘Everything's fine.'

Making a mental note to find out who this disgraced telepath was, Grace reached out and touched the trunk of a nearby tree, where various hand and foot holds jutted out in an uneven pattern like giant wads of chewing gum, squashed and prodded into different shapes. She reached out and squeezed one between her thumb and forefinger. It felt reassuringly stable – and comfortable.

Sarah peered up. ‘Have you climbed before?'

Grace lodged her foot into a lower hold and lifted off. Her foot came to rest on another hold. ‘No.' She glanced up – another hold was within reach. She could do this
.
Stretching, she pulled herself up.

With fluid moves, she climbed higher, the pain in her injured ankle eclipsed by her desire to reach the top.

‘You're not supposed to do that without a harness.'

‘Oh.' Grace looked down and gave Sarah a half-smile. ‘Bit late now.'
She pushed further.

Sarah winced. ‘Grace, climb down now.'

For the first time in months, Grace's stomach felt light.

Just a little bit further. The next handhold seemed higher but not beyond her reach. She could see above the tops of some smaller trees. She swung her leg up and stretched across to grab one of the handholds. Beyond, the peak of one of the cliff towers came into view. She stopped and gazed out at the ocean.

A quick glance down confirmed the awful truth – her enthusiastic climb had brought her much higher than she'd intended. Sarah stared up, pressing her palm against her stomach, her face creased with worry. Maya wore a smirk.

‘Climb down, Grace!' Joe scowled.

Malcolm stood at the foot of the tree. ‘I'll go up and get her.'

‘No!' Grace swayed, struggling to climb down, her knees scraping against the trunk as she slid, her fingers tearing at the bark. ‘I can get down myself!' She managed to get a handhold – phew. But she missed the foothold and her good foot was hanging, leaving all the weight on her hands. Armin was staring up at the tree with a predatory grin, juggling a softball in his hand. The smile dropped, and he hurled the ball at Grace.

‘Score! A direct hit!'

Grace's arms became heavy. Her fingers slipped away.

With a thump, she landed. A jarring pain hit her back. She lay her head back on the wet grass, closed her eyes and groaned.

Three, two, one – and she would magically teleport to anywhere but here.

She felt a warm hand on her arm. ‘Are you all right?' She opened her eyes and caught her breath.

It was him. Ivan.

He peered down at her, frowning with concern. He had clear, near-perfect skin – apart from a small scar on his right cheek. Light blue eyes, crystal cool, but shining with an inner warmth that instantly made her feel at ease, cared for.

He smelled nice – a mix of the healthy male scent and light aftershave. And boy, was he ripped. Not obscenely, his muscles weren't bursting through his sleeves, but just enough to create an impression of lithe, gymnast-like strength.

‘I'm okay.' She sat up.

Ivan gave her his hand and helped her up. His hand was warm and solid – like the rest of him. She hadn't really noticed this during rollcall, but he towered above everyone else – even Joe. She wiped the wet grass off her jeans, hoping her blush wasn't too obvious.

Sarah glared at Armin. ‘You're a dickhead.' She lunged across and grabbed the softball from his hand.

Armin shrugged. ‘What? She made a safe landing.' Grinning, he snatched the ball back, twirling it in one hand. ‘We have initiations around here. You have to prove yourself before you can call yourself a mercenary.'

Sarah's cheeks flushed red. ‘By having her neck broken? You stupid –'

Malcolm grunted. ‘Why so touchy, Sarah? Off your meds?'

Seth glared at him. ‘Shut up, Malcolm.'

‘I'm okay, Sarah.' Grace looked at Ivan, who was speaking to Seth in a low voice. ‘Who is he, anyway?'

‘Ivan Konstantinov. He used to be with Spetsnaz – the Russian special forces. Lucius brought him in specially to train us, and he liked it so much that he stayed on. He's only twenty-one, but there are some stories about him.' She lowered her voice. ‘His nickname is Ivan the Terrible. Apparently he killed a Level Twenty-two, all by himself.'

‘Really?' Grace cleared her throat. ‘I don't remember seeing him at the funeral.' She watched Ivan lead an attentive Joe past the row of climbing trees, pointing upwards.

‘He was there. We all were.' Sarah took a deep breath. ‘Whatever you do, don't get him angry. He's friendly nearly all of the time, but if you piss him off, he's all business.'

A whistle caught Grace's attention. Maya was watching her, with an expectant look on her face. ‘If you want to join our team, you have to learn to handle a firearm.'

Grace lifted her chin. ‘Doesn't sound too hard to me.'

‘Well, there's not much else that you can do, is there?' Armin said. ‘But your brother, on the other hand.' He whistled. ‘Great potential.'

‘Yes.' Maya nodded. ‘All she's done so far is fall out of a tree.' She grinned.

Grace narrowed her eyes. ‘I wouldn't have if you hadn't thrown that ball, you moron.'

Maya's smile dropped. ‘Don't you speak to him like that.'

‘Right.' Ivan's voice snapped through the air. ‘All of you – sit down.'

Grace lowered herself to the grass and crossed her legs. Sarah touched her arm. ‘Don't let them get to you, Grace. Diana told us about your gift. You're going to kick their butts. They'll never be able to do what we can.'

‘No.' Maya gave Sarah a sarcastic smile. ‘But then again, neither will we go insane and rot away in a padded cell.'

Sarah flinched. ‘Shut up.'

Grace pointed at Maya. ‘You know what? You talk too much.' She turned back to Sarah, whose face was red. ‘Who is she talking about?'

‘Someone who used to work here. Sit down.'

‘What is wrong with them?'

‘They're mercenaries, Grace. Arrogance comes with the territory.' Sarah tucked her knees up to her chest. ‘I just ignore it. Most of the time I'm on the radio, away from the action.' Her eyes grew dim, staring into the nothingness.

Ivan ran his gaze along the group. ‘Our training objectives have changed, given the new dynamics of the group.' Grace watched his lips move, noting the strange way he pronounced certain words; how formal his speech seemed compared to the rest of them. He seemed to sense her thoughts and gave her an extra-long look before turning to the mercenaries. ‘You are to spend the morning in a live-fire simulation, then we'll meet up with these two for a combined exercise.'

Armin pointed to Grace. ‘What about her? Will she receive any arms training? We're not about to put our lives in the hands of another incompetent psychic.'

Ivan threw him a hard look. ‘Jelavic – to me. The rest of you – to the arena.'

Armin stepped towards Ivan. Maya gave Armin a reluctant look before disappearing into the trees. Grace couldn't hear what they were saying, but Ivan's tone was firm, his eyes fixed on his subordinate's face. Armin shook his head once. Ivan nodded towards the forest; Armin jogged away without giving Grace a glance.

Ivan watched her for a few seconds and then glanced at Sarah. ‘Okay. Sanderson – you take Grace with you. Do some tests, let me know how she goes.'

GRACE HURRIED TO
keep up with Sarah's long-legged stride as they passed the Residence. A wave of embarrassment hit as she thought about her ungracious fall from the tree. She looked up at the blonde girl. ‘I don't usually do things like that. I don't know what came over me, really.'

Sarah smiled. ‘You're grieving, and now you have to accept big changes in your life. It's normal to act differently at times like these.'

Grace nodded. She took a moment to study Sarah's face. This girl seemed so wise. She had a calmness about her that Grace had only seen in much older people. ‘How old is everyone, anyway? I felt like I was the youngest there.'

‘You are. You're seventeen, right? And Joe's eighteen?'

Grace nodded.

‘Thought so. Armin and Maya are nineteen, Seth and Malcolm are both twenty-one, and I'm nineteen.' Sarah slowed her pace. ‘Sorry. I tend to gallop along . . . I already told you our fearless leader is twenty-one – although he seems about a decade older. He's impressive, isn't he?'

Grace looked down, hoping that Sarah wouldn't notice the blush forming on her cheek. ‘Yeah, he's good.'

Sarah smiled. ‘Most of the girls here think he's pretty cute.'

Grace kept her tone casual. ‘Does he have a girlfriend?'

‘No. There's one girl who likes to think of herself as his chick. But he's never really shown any affection towards her in public, despite her efforts.' Sarah pushed her hands into her pockets. ‘Your brother's nice-looking.'

Grace made a puking sound. ‘Whatever you think.'

Sarah laughed. ‘You'll settle in fine here, Grace. Just ignore Armin and Maya. They're like two lost souls who found each other, being from the same part of the world and all. People tend to hang out with their own kind, don't they?'

‘They're just so unfriendly.'

‘They're like that with everyone. Don't take it personally. I try not to. It's better that way. They are very good mercenaries, and if they get to like you, you will have their loyalty for life. At least they don't try to pull rank all the time, unlike my stepbrother.'

Grace stared into the forest. It was true – Malcolm had been out to show his authority from the moment they met. ‘Why does he do that?'

Sarah smirked. ‘Out of desperation. He wants to prove to everyone that he is worthy of being Ivan's second-in-charge – and not because his dad gave him the position. I think Marcus is disappointed, though!'

Grace grinned at Sarah's singsong voice. ‘So, Marcus is your stepdad.'

‘Right.' Sarah raised her eyebrows, grimacing.

‘What about your mum?'

Sarah looked away. ‘She died when I was five.' She shoved her hands into her pockets.

‘I'm sorry,' said Grace.

‘It's okay. I feel like I'm past the worst of it. I'm over eighteen and don't have to do what Marcus says anymore.'

‘He seems very . . . controlling.'

‘Yeah. Lucius is the one who's supposed to be in charge of us. But he always ends up doing what Marcus wants. I suppose it's because Marcus is the older brother, he thinks he's the boss.'

‘I wouldn't let Joe boss me like that.'

Sarah glanced down at Grace's foot. ‘How's your ankle healing up?'

‘It's okay . . . just twinges every now and then.'

They stopped next to the light blue picket fence. Sarah swung open the gate and gestured for Grace to go ahead. ‘Welcome to my veggie garden.'

‘Yeah, Diana showed us this morning.' Grace stepped around an overflowing bag of pebbles and inhaled the rose fragrance. ‘It's really nice.' Rows of dark ivy, littered with white flowers, crawled up the walls that overlooked the beds of lettuce, cabbage and carrot.

Sarah pointed to a chicken-wire barricade in the corner of the garden. ‘And that is Snowflake.' A large white rabbit sniffed the air and then plunged its face into a bed of leafy greens. Sarah wandered across to crouch in front of the hutch. She reached over and scratched the rabbit's chin. ‘Been enjoying a nice feed?'

Grace sank to her knees and pressed her finger through the wire. The rabbit ambled across and sniffed it.

‘Is this your rabbit?'

‘Snowflake's one of the residents.'

‘Does she live here? In this garden?'

‘She lives in the hobby farm. Snowflake drew the short straw today; the others are snuggled up together.' Sarah stood up. ‘Now – look at her, Grace. That rabbit's got a mind of her own, hasn't she?'

‘Yes.'

‘And do you think you can teach her to follow instructions?'

Grace glanced at the rabbit. ‘I guess she could be trained.'

‘How about making her follow instructions . . . without saying a word or even moving your arms?'

Grace thought of Joe, hearing her on the other side of the bedroom wall. ‘I suppose it's possible.'

With a tilt of her head, Sarah turned to the rabbit. ‘I'm going to tell Snowflake to walk to the right-hand wall.'

‘Right.' Grace stood up and folded her arms. Her eyes darted between Sarah, whose own eyes were deep with concentration, and the suddenly still rabbit.

Snowflake turned and plodded towards the wall.

Sarah turned to look at Grace.

Grace shrugged. ‘Maybe she decided to move on her own.' She squinted at the dark corner where the rabbit chewed a lettuce leaf. ‘That's where the food is. A coincidence – she happened to be hungry.'

‘Mmm. Yeah.' Sarah grinned. ‘Coincidence.'

Grace scowled. ‘Are you making fun of me?' Burning anger spiralled up from her stomach. It receded, she slumped; her arms felt as if someone had attached weights to her fingers.

‘I think I'm going to sit down.' She slid into a plastic chair.

‘Okay,' said Sarah.

‘I feel so tired.' Grace closed her eyes. She began to drift into a warm darkness.

Wake up!

Grace's eyes flew open.

Sarah watched her with a small grin. ‘You okay?'

‘That felt strange.'

Sarah crouched in front of Grace and rested her hands on the armrests. ‘I was able to get inside your head just then. I inspired anger and then fatigue. Finally, I told you to wake up. And I never spoke a word.' She pointed to her head. ‘The element of surprise. You didn't see me coming.' Nodding in the direction of the hutch, she stood up. ‘Why don't you try?'

Crouching, Grace laced her fingers in the chicken wire.

A picture – that's what she needed. Yes . . . that was it. An image to plant in her mind.

Snowflake looked up, stared for a moment, and turned. She plodded steadily towards the hutch. Without slowing her pace, she proceeded inside.

Grace let out a long breath and stared at the hutch. ‘Unbelievable.' If only she'd been able to do that to Jesse Tyler.

‘Grace, it took me three days of practice to learn that. You've done it on your first day.' Sarah pressed her hand to her forehead. ‘I can't believe it. Ivan has got to see this.' With an excited gleam in her eye, Sarah stood up. ‘What are the others going to say? No-one's ever been that fast . . . I can just see their faces now! Come on. There are still more tests to do.'

Bolstered by the praise, Grace followed Sarah out of the garden and on to the gravel path that led them back to the Residence. They entered the double green doors and continued down the warm yellow passageway, past the empty recreation rooms and the large kitchen, where the mid- morning sun reflected off the stainless steel benchtop.

‘So what now? More animals?' Grace lifted her chin and took a deep breath, savouring the thrill of adrenaline, the confidence surge. She could do anything . . . anything at all.

They reached a door at the corridor's end. Sarah opened it; three people looked up. ‘Morning,' they echoed.

Nerves needled up Grace's spine. ‘Humans? Real people?'

‘You forget – demons were human once,' Sarah whispered. ‘They still retain some aspect of their humanity. This is the closest simulation we can provide. Unless you want to go to the asylum on your first day of training?'

Grace shivered. ‘No, thanks.'

Sarah held up three fingers. ‘You'll do three simple tests in here. Subject number one has three cups of water in front of her. Using telepathy, tell her to drink them in a particular order.'

Grace nodded. ‘Not too different to Snowflake, right?'

‘Then, with subject number two, plant some words in his head. The exact words you want him to say. Anything – just try not to humiliate him. He's doing us a favour.

‘The third and final test is open to you. Do
not
give subject number three a command. Instead, try to plant an idea in his head. That he has an uncontrollable itch on his chin. That he has an irresistible urge to dance the samba.' They both giggled. ‘This guy's a good sport, so he won't mind. The point here is that you create a desire that he cannot resist. That's the key.

‘Oh, and you should know that Lucius and Diana are watching.' Sarah pointed to a camera hanging over the door. ‘So do the best you can, okay?'

Sarah stepped out of the room and walked across the hallway. She knocked once and entered the room. Diana and Lucius were sitting at the desk, watching the monitor.

‘Looks promising,' Sarah said. ‘Snowflake was no challenge at all.'

‘Yes, well we'll see how she goes with human minds,' said Diana. ‘She must learn to use the gift properly.'

‘Look!' Sarah leaned closer to the monitor. ‘She's already done the first test!'

The first test subject raised a cup to her mouth, then she put it down. With slow, purposeful movements, she drank the other two – her eyes never leaving Grace.

‘I can't hear a thing.' Lucius reached over and turned up the volume. A crackling hiss resonated through the speaker, as the second test subject, a young man with dark sideburns and Manchester United football t-shirt, stared at Grace with calm eyes and said, ‘Chelsea are the best team in the league. They will win the premiership this year, for sure.'

Sarah laughed. ‘Nice one.' She leaned forward, elbows on knees. ‘Okay. Number three is the critical one. If she can't do it, she won't stand a chance in the kill room.'

The young man sat quietly for several seconds.

‘Nothing's happening,' Diana muttered.

‘Quiet!' Lucius leaned forward. ‘He pointed to the screen, where the third test subject was staring up at the roof, an alarmed look on his face. Next, he jumped out of his chair and crawled underneath the table.

‘Looks as if she's done something,' Diana said.

Grace looked up at the camera. ‘Finished!' She gave a thumbs-up. The third subject was peering up from the edge of the table, eyes darting back and forth. Grace reached out a hand. ‘It's okay. You're safe. It was just an illusion.'

The man smiled. ‘Oh.' With an embarrassed smile, he got up and slid into his chair. ‘You really got me there.'

The door burst open. Sarah walked in, closely shadowed by Diana and Lucius, who pushed forward. He reached out and patted her back. ‘Well done, Callahan.'

Diana nodded towards Subject Three. ‘What did you tell poor Adam here? That there was a giant spider on the roof?'

The man glanced up with a smile. ‘Very funny, Diana. No, for the life of me, I would have sworn that a bomb was falling on the building. Felt like I'd travelled back in time to the Blitz.'

‘Well.' Lucius took a deep breath. ‘I think Grace is ready to move on to full-scale training.' He shot a look at Diana. ‘She has potential.'

‘She must be given time to develop properly. Sarah, I'm trusting you to make sure that happens.' Diana glanced at the three test subjects. ‘Shall we break for coffee?'

She ushered the visitors from the room. Lucius was the last to leave. He gave Grace a wink as he closed the door.

Sarah leaned on the table edge. ‘You got off to a great start there, Grace. What you just did is known as “telepathic influence”. Masking and influence are the two major skills that a telepath needs in this job.'

‘What's the masking part?'

‘Making sure your enemy doesn't know you're there. Creating an illusion. You'll get the chance – sooner than you think.'

Grace raised her eyebrows. ‘So, what now?' She stretched her arms in front and smiled.

Sarah bit her finger nail. ‘I wasn't planning to do this, but I want you to try a telepathic assault before this afternoon's exercise. I'd rather not let you in there with them until you can do it.'

‘In where?'

‘The kill room.'

‘What the hell is that?'

‘A training room . . . Look, I want you to try something. Imagine giving me a bad headache. Just like you told Snowflake to go into her hutch. Go on!'

‘I don't know.'

‘Don't worry, I can take it! Come on. Do it. No . . . don't close your eyes. Look at my forehead. Think of the kind of pain you want me to feel. A sharp attack of pain, like a really bad migraine.'