Metawars: The Complete Series: Trance, Changeling, Tempest, Chimera (20 page)

The question drove home things that had niggled at the back of my mind since our arrival. Sure, some of the hallways were dusty and the rooms not up to code, but the medical equipment was first rate, the food healthy, and the sheets clean. Two days after reactivation, and the HQ ran better than it should have for an organization left to rot for fifteen years.

“I am sure they had a caretaker or two, no?” Marco asked.

“Or twenty,” Gage said. “It certainly makes you wonder if they knew that our power loss was temporary. That we’d need the HQ again some day, so they kept it in good shape, made sure protocols existed in case what happened last week
happened. There’s a hell of a lot about our own pasts that we really don’t know.”

“We could just ask, you know,” Renee said. The high-pitched voice of reason. “It’s not like Dr. Seward has lied to any of us.”

“Seward isn’t the one running things,” I said. “The Bureau funds us, remember? If we want answers, we need to ask Agent McNally.”

Gage tilted his head and gave me a small smile. “I thought you believed she was on our side.”

“I do, Gage, which is why I think she’ll answer our questions. She was more straightforward than Grayson, that’s for sure. I don’t think she would lie to us outright.”

“Maybe not, but she still has her own agenda. Her answers were controlled, Teresa.”

“I know that, but obfuscation isn’t the same as lying.” I blew out an exasperated breath. “She was up there, while Ethan was in surgery. She does care what happens to us, and given our state of near-crisis, I think she’ll talk.”

“Now’s your chance to ask,” Gage said.

Our heads swiveled toward the door in perfect unison, and two beats later, McNally walked into the cafeteria. She paused, her piercing gaze sweeping around the table.

“Good evening,” she said. “I hope you don’t mind if I join you.”

“Of course not,” I replied.

She took her time filling a coffee mug, carefully stirring in two packets of sugar and a bit of milk. Each movement made with precision. She sat down in the only empty chair at
the table, between Gage and Renee. “I’d heard you were back, and I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced,” she said to the blue woman on her left.

After the prerequisite introductions, McNally sipped her coffee and got right to the point. “This morning’s rescue is getting a lot of airtime,” she said. “As is the impromptu interview Trance gave. Every pollster we’ve ever worked with is scrambling to put together new information for us, and the early results have been far more positive than I expected.”

“How positive is more positive?” I asked.

“Thirty percent of respondents, when asked if the new Rangers will be a positive influence on the world today, said yes.”

“Which means seventy percent think we’ll destroy the world?”

“Actually, fifty percent replied they were undecided. But again, these are preliminary numbers, from average citizens. On the other side of things, the news media is clamoring for more information and more interviews.”

“We’re not a sideshow, Agent McNally,” Gage said. “And in case you’ve forgotten, one of our friends is dead and another is critically injured. Posing for publicity photos isn’t high on our priority list.”

“I’m certainly not saying it should be, but you do need public support, which you are starting to get. You also need to control your public image, or you’ll lose what little support you already have. One or two anchors are saying some rather negative things about Trance simply from the way she ended the interview. If we don’t correct them, the damage may be irreversible.”

I twirled my spoon between my fingers. “Do you really think I care what the public thinks of me?”

She nodded. “I know you do, Trance. You care about this team, and you don’t want to worry about Joe Citizen taking potshots at you while you’re trying to mount a rescue.”

The spoon fell from my fingers, and I glared. She had to know how my mom died. Using that against me was cruel. And brilliant, because she was right. Specter was about all we could handle in terms of enemies right now.

“The instant celebrity status can be beneficial to you,” she continued, “but if you don’t control the flow of information, it could devastate your public support. Do you remember the negative publicity your elders received during the final year of the War?”

Adults whispering behind closed doors, hiding the daily newspapers. My father set the television stations to news-free networks only, and didn’t let the other grown-ups talk about it when I was around. I knew things were going badly, but he shielded me from most of it. Something I now regretted.

“I do,” Marco said. He said something in Spanish and, judging by Gage’s raised eyebrows, it was laced with profanity. “What is the phrase? From hero to zero in one headline. My mentor was criticized in an article, because an apartment building burned down while he was battling two Banes.
No importa
—never mind he saved the lives of everyone who lived there. The press called him an arsonist.”

“That’s exactly my point, Onyx,” McNally said. “You don’t have to do profiles and cover spreads. That’s not what I want. Just a short interview on one morning show, to speak your
peace, answer a few questions, and make sure everyone knows we will do everything we can to keep things from escalating again.”

“In theory it’s a good idea,” I said. “But I don’t want to put all of us in one room, on live television, and give Specter the perfect target.”

McNally drummed her fingers against the side of her mug. “Then, we do it pretaped. We give the studio one hour advance notice, go in quietly, tape the interview, and then leave. Simple, sweet, and a much smaller audience.”

“Can we preapprove the questions?” I asked.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“It’s a deal-breaker.”

“Then, I’ll make certain of it. Anything else?”

I took a moment to study my team. Gauge their reactions. William and Marco listened attentively, giving no nonverbal cues as to their thoughts. Gage kept picking at his sandwich with a half-frown on his face; I wanted to reassure him this was a good idea—as soon as I convinced myself.

Renee alone showed keen interest in the interview. She watched McNally with what I could only describe as fascination. Maybe a little bit of awe, as if she couldn’t believe someone would go to these lengths for us. Perhaps she was simply contemplating her fifteen minutes of fame.

“I want the girl from the site,” I said. If she refused, we’d be off the hook. “The blonde from the newspaper. Dahlia something?”

“Why her?” McNally asked.

“Because she was intimidated by us. She won’t be tempted
to go off on a tangent, or manipulate the questions. If we’re boosting our own credibility, might as well boost someone else while we’re at it.”

“So, ten minutes, pretaped, you write the questions, and she asks them. That’s the deal?”

A round of nods from the others sealed my answer: “Yes.”

“Then, I’ll see what I can put together.” McNally’s chair scraped as she stood up. “I’ll let you know as soon as we’ve made arrangements.”

“I can’t wait.” Beneath the table, Gage’s foot kicked mine. “What? That wasn’t all sarcasm.”

McNally chuckled and left with her coffee.

“Well, that was quite rude,” Renee said. The annoyance in her voice caught my attention, but amusement danced in her eyes. “Can she just take our coffee mugs like that?”

William wadded up his napkin and threw it at her head. He chuckled, Renee giggled, and I sighed with relief. I bit into the turkey sandwich, and my appetite ignited like a spark to gas. I polished it off quickly, along with my soup and some crackers Renee didn’t want. I was about to go get a second helping when Marco stood up—leaving.

The food could wait.

“Can I walk you out?” I asked, standing too quickly and knocking my chair over. Gage caught it with one hand and set it upright.

Marco nodded. I followed him to the disposal, and we dropped our plates. Awkward silence accompanied us into the corridor. He turned toward the elevator bank. I zipped past to cut him off before he could press the button.

“How are you?” I asked, and fixed the wounded shapeshifter with my sternest stare. “Really, Marco, how are you doing?”

He studied me a moment, the glow of his lime-green eyes rising and falling like waves in an ocean. Did the color react to his emotions? “If I say I am fine, Catalepsia, you will call me a liar.”

“Not if you’re really fine.”

“I am fine.”

“Liar.”

“What do you wish me to say?”

“Tell me the truth, Marco,” I said, practically begging. Hedging bothered me beyond words. Straight talk or nothing. “Tell me that you’re pissed as hell at me for sending you up there to get hurt. Tell me you hate that I got out of it without a scrape, while everyone else I care about was injured. Tell me I’m not my father, and I’m a terrible field leader, and Gage should be in charge like before. I don’t care, just be honest with me.”

Deep lines creased his forehead, darkening the camouflage coloration of his skin. A cloud of sadness settled over him like a thunderhead, and I found myself both repelled and intrigued. We’d traded more words in the last few days than in the two years I’d known him prior to losing our powers. He’d been held captive and abused before coming to the Rangers, and hadn’t talked much to me or anyone else, preferring to spend the majority of his time as a panther. I couldn’t begin to imagine what losing his shifting abilities had done to him, or the difficulties he faced because of his fur-mottled skin.

“I am not angry at you,” he said. “I am only angry with myself.”

I blinked hard, startled by his answer. “Why?”

“Because I charged into a situation without first assessing it, and that is why I was caught and injured. I was careless.”

“I told you to go ahead of us.”

“I should have been more cautious. Now Janel is dead, Ethan is fighting to live, and perhaps I could have prevented it. I could have done something differently. Better.”

“We all could have done something differently.” I gently grasped his wrist. Better to avoid his hands for now. “I could have killed Janel sooner. Ethan could have taken two steps to the left. Gage could have not stepped into that doorway. Regardless, we did all of those things. Second-guessing battle decisions won’t help us do better the next time. Examining them will.”

McNally’s voice rang through my head. Damn her, she was right.

“What is the difference?” Marco asked.

“The difference is we accept the choices we make and learn from the mistakes. Besides, if anyone on this team is going to second-guess, it will be me. It’s the leader’s prerogative. Just like it’s my prerogative to cheer you up.”

“Find a healer who can fix my hand.” He gave no sign that anything I just said made a bit of difference. “I cannot shift until the bones heal, so I am useless to you and this team.”

I had no comeback for that one, and an overwhelming sadness struck me. I’d been around these people for days and, except for Gage, had taken no time to get to know them
or understand their history during our separation. I hadn’t taken the time to be his friend.

“I’m sorry, Marco.”

He tilted his head to one side. “For what?”

“For the things that hurt you that no one was there to stop.”

A sad smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. “Anything that happened prior to a week ago was never your fault. You cannot be sorry for it.”

“Yes, I can, and I am. None of us really talk about those years we were apart, because most of us had pretty awful times of it. I know I didn’t have the best years of my life, and I’m glad to have left it all behind. Good or bad, I’m sorry because I’m your friend.”

He turned, and I let go of his wrist. I couldn’t stop him from walking away and not accepting my words. He surprised me by pivoting back around and sweeping his strong arms around my waist. I tossed my own arms around his shoulders and hugged him back. The superfine hair covering his skin tickled my cheek, soft as velvet. We held each other for a few moments, drawing strength, creating unity.

“I am sorry to be such a gloomy pain in the ass,” he said, his breath puffing against my ear.

I laughed. “I’m not so easy to get along with myself. We can start a Pains-in-the-Ass Club, if you like. Definitely invite Dr. Seward to join.”

Marco chuckled. His grip loosened, and I stepped back. “Thank you, Catalepsia,” he said. “Perhaps one day we will tell our sad stories over a bottle of tequila.”

“Something tells me we’ll need two bottles.”

He smiled, and the sight warmed my heart. I swatted him on the shoulder, then pressed the elevator’s call button. It chimed right away, and the doors slid open.

“I’ll see you later,” I said.

He nodded and stepped into the elevator.

As the doors slid shut, I thought of my promise to Gage. I didn’t want to search for Dr. Seward and explain about my sight. Lab Rat was not a title I needed attached to my name, thank you very much. But I said I’d go, and I didn’t want to start lying to Gage. Maybe Dr. Seward would be busy; I could say I tried. Or maybe he wasn’t even on base, since it was the middle of the night.

And I wanted to see Ethan.

The exterior of the Medical Center looked like it had been scalped, a monument to how badly our safety had been violated—and how horribly I’d screwed up. Carpenters and technicians created a steady stream in and out, even during this late hour. The top floor was missing windows and a roof. The copter wouldn’t be making any emergency landings up there for a while; it would have to stick to the helipad on the roof of the Base.

I found Dr. Seward’s temporary fourth-floor office empty. He had kept the bulk of his medical files in the central computer network, saving him the work of going through mountains of water-damaged paper files.

Since Seward could be anywhere on the property, I
counted my blessings, skipped past the lab-turned-office, and headed for ICU. None of my most recent trips to Medical had landed me there, only one of my teammates. Another teammate that I didn’t know very well. I wanted to know him. I wanted to know all of them again.