Shatter (20 page)

Movement outside drew her gaze. Mitch opened the passenger’s door with a mischievous grin and kicked his shoes on the running board to shake off the loose snow before climbing in. An icy blast of air made Halina curl closer to Dex.

“You must have found something good,” Nelson said. “You look like you drew blood.”

“Yeah.” He shut the door sounding a little breathless. As he shrugged out of his jacket and buckled his belt, he said, “You know those creepy little figurines Kat’s into with the bug eyes? Dogs, cats, fish . . .”

Nelson made a sound and cringed as he pulled back out onto the road. “Those things freak me out. I told her I’d rather teach her Barbies to shoot than play with those things.”

Mitch barked a laugh. “Bet Teague loved that.”

Nelson made another sound, this one more noncommittal.

“I got the brand-new one.” Mitch reached in the bag and pulled out a small package. He pushed it into Nelson’s line of sight. “A raccoon.”

Nelson put up an arm as if to protect himself. “Ah! The burn! Get that thing away from me. I’m going to have nightmares.”

Laughing, Mitch turned it around and inspected the package. “It’s not that bad.”

“Dude.”
Nelson looked at Mitch like he’d told him he was going to have a sex change. “You’ve been working too hard.”

He held it up for Halina to see and gave her a pained, questioning, is-it-that-bad look. It was the most congenial, most spectacularly ordinary thing he’d done yet. Almost as if they were . . . friends. The thought filled her with melancholy warmth.

She scrunched one side of her face at the deranged little creature. “Hmm,” she murmured, letting her smile relax as she looked at him. “I think they were going for the so-ugly-it’scute design.”

A grin spread across his face. “Exactly!” He jabbed a fist into Nelson’s shoulder. “See. So ugly it’s cute.”

“Ow.” Nelson laughed, rubbing his shoulder. “Fine. Whatever.
I’m
not playing with it.” He mocked a full body shiver. “But I wouldn’t mention that theory to Kat. And you might want to wear earplugs when you give it to her. What did you get for Mateo?”

“What else?”

“Crayons,” the two men said in unison.

Their playfulness gave Halina insight into a different side of Mitch. One she’d thought had been stamped out of him since they’d parted. Seeing it again was bittersweet.

Mitch turned to Halina again. “You’ve got to see this kid’s talent. He’s like a Crayola van Gogh. I’ve got his pictures framed all over my office.”

Halina’s heart felt too big for her body. God, how she loved seeing him happy. Loved knowing how much he’d given back to others. Loved seeing what a rich, loving life he’d built for himself.

Loved knowing that doing the right thing made her life and all she’d given up . . . bearable.

“Listen,” Mitch said to her, his voice serious again, “just to prepare you, everyone is here. These people are like the most bizarre, dysfunctional extended family you’ll ever meet. Stems from some stupid kumbaya firefighter thing.”

Nelson laughed.

“As I explained, they all have powers,” Mitch continued. “But they all hold them in check around the rest of us—most of the time. Kai is empathic, Keira is clairaudient, Teague has thermokinetic abilities, uses them mostly for healing, though he’s learned a few new tricks recently.”

“He’s melting every piece of metal he can get his hands on,” Nelson said. “When he started welding kitchen utensils together, oh my God, I thought Alyssa was going to stab him with one of his new-fangled sporks.”

Mitch laughed, then rested his head against the seat with a smile that just wouldn’t quit. “Hell, I’ve been missing all the good stuff.” He spoke over his shoulder to Halina. “Quaid, I told you, is a remote viewer and can teleport. His wife, Jessica, is a scryer, but her abilities seem to have improved as well and she shares some of her husband’s abilities. The boy, Mateo, is also a remote viewer, though he uses his skills a little differently from Quaid. And Luke, Keira’s fiancé, is Teflon Man and a supreme pain in the ass.”

Nelson laughed again. “Come on, you’re throwing a lot at her at once.” He glanced in the rearview mirror and met Halina’s gaze, which was probably glazed over with the complicated emotions arising with the information overload. “If he gives you a test, I’ll kick his ass.”

Halina’s mind was clogged with the onslaught of unbelievable information. “Teflon Man?”

“Bulletproof,” Nelson said. “Fireproof. Explosion proof. Et cetera.”

“Though we haven’t tried acid on him yet,” Mitch said, his sarcasm thick. “And I’ve been trying to get Keira to let me go at him with a freshly sharpened set of Henckels. But maybe I can chuck a few of Teague’s sporks at him while I’m here.”

“Such a wet blanket, that Keira,” Nelson muttered. “I liked your nuclear explosive idea.”

“I know, right?” Mitch said.

Nelson laughed. “
Meltdown
.”

“Seriously.”

They were like two mischievous little boys planning to tie fireworks to the cat’s tail.

“But he did forget to mention,” Nelson said, “that Keira and Luke’s powers combine to create new and stronger powers and that the whole team is learning how to work together to create hybrid abilities.” He glanced at Mitch. “When are they going to learn to transfer those to us?”

Mitch’s smile twisted. “I’m not so sure I want them.”

“Enough,” Halina said, dropping her head and rubbing her temples. “Way too much information.”

Her stomach twisted tighter with every mile along the road. Her decision seven years ago had touched every one of these people in a negative way. Some in horrendous ways. She didn’t know what to expect and felt the tension all the way up her spine. All she could do was grit her teeth until they finally turned in to a long driveway lined with pines, and paused at a metal split-rail gate.

Out of the woods, three men emerged, each wearing the same clothes as Nelson—black jeans, brown hunting jacket, boots. But these men wore their gloves, and knit caps, and each had a semiauto machine gun over his shoulder and a handgun strapped to his thigh.

 

O
wen planted both elbows on his desk and rubbed his face. His laptop played the video surveillance tapes from the lab where Halina had worked seven years before, prior to leaving DARPA.

Working from the distant past forward to the day Halina disappeared, he’d already viewed four months of monotonous tapes. Now, two months prior to her disappearance, the activity had become far more interesting.

The same four sections were displayed on his screen—one corner visualizing a wide-angle shot of Halina’s lab, one of Gorin’s lab, one of Rostov’s lab, and one of a refrigerated storage area they shared. No audio accompanied the files, but Owen didn’t need any. After working with Schaeffer at DARPA before he’d become a senator, and now after watching the man work the Hill, Owen knew Schaeffer’s body language, his facial expressions. He knew his voice cues too, and although those weren’t relevant here, their addition in his head helped Owen understand the intensity of what Rostov, Gorin, and Beloi had gone through.

On the screen, Schaeffer duckwalked into Gorin’s lab. The two men immediately began to argue—Owen believed they were really finishing an argument they’d started the day before. And that’s where the power of the footage lay—being able to watch the progressing tangle of relationships and Schaeffer’s escalating manipulation and abuse.

The frequency with which Schaeffer visited all three labs increased over time. In addition to that common thread, the confrontations between Schaeffer and all three scientists intensified. The only difference he could detect was that the man’s confrontations with Halina took longer to develop—probably because she was far more congenial than the men. Far more eager to please. Definitely the hardest worker and the most brilliant of the three.

Schaeffer had tried befriending Halina first. Mentoring her. When that didn’t get the results he wanted, he’d moved on to seduction—which wasn’t just a joke, it was a sadistic joke. As time moved on, his tactics deteriorated to the same heavy-handed methods he’d used to control Rostov and Gorin. And while Rostov and Gorin had fought back—both verbally and physically—Halina had endured. When it had become too much, she’d escaped.

Owen found the footage increasingly difficult to watch. Day in and day out, Schaeffer’s demands, his rants, he threats continued. He’d become physically abusive with both Rostov and Gorin. Threatened Halina with physical abuse.

The varied responses to Schaeffer’s abuse fascinated Owen. Rostov battled back, full tilt. He and Schaeffer had the most volatile relationship. Rostov’s independence showed in the way he stood up to his so-called boss with both physical and verbal tactics. Gorin, far more interested in the research than people, tried to avoid Schaeffer by ducking out when he knew the other man was coming. By ignoring him when he came in. And when it all became too much, Gorin snapped. Went on destructive rampages through the lab, ransacking the place. Once Schaeffer tossed up his hands and walked out, Gorin would often dissolve into sobs and sit in the corner for hours. Talk about dysfunctional.

But Halina was different. She was strong, but silent. When she argued with Schaeffer, it was controlled, logical, reasonable. She would point out her reports, gesture to her experiments, speak calmly. Halina held it together even as Schaeffer’s anger rose.

Her composure only faltered when Schaeffer lost his temper and threatened violence. And even then, she held herself together until he left the lab. Only then did she break down.

She was a strong woman and Owen had one hell of a lot of respect for her. Considering what she’d been through as a kid, where she’d come from, what she’d accomplished . . . she might have been the strongest woman he’d ever known.

That thought made his gaze drift toward Sofia’s file on the edge of his desk.

No. Sophia was the very strongest woman Owen had ever met. Strong, yet soft. Compassionate. Funny. Smart.

Damn. Why did she have to be involved in this?

Owen paused the lab footage, took a breath, and opened Sofia’s file. Her official FBI photo stared up at him. His breath caught in his chest, and Owen held it as his gaze skimmed the image. She was even more beautiful now. Soft olive complexion, deep whiskey-brown eyes, long, almost black hair that shone with cinnamon highlights in the sun. That last part he didn’t see in the image. That last part he remembered.

And he remembered so much more. Their friendship. Their bond. Their mutual respect. Their shared goals and values. Their similar sense of humor.

She’d been his best friend for so long. He still thought of her often. Wished they could have stayed in touch. But the sexual tension had become too strong. They knew they either had to act on it or let go.

Since he’d been her CO, since he’d been an officer and she enlisted, since she’d been a gold nugget, ripe for promotion and success, he’d let go.

She hadn’t been happy, but she’d understood.

And he’d missed her. Had never been as close to any other woman in his life. Including . . . maybe especially . . . his almost ex-wife, Libby. He’d thought he’d been in love with Jocelyn for a long time before her recent death. But the woman he’d loved hadn’t been real. She’d been nothing but an illusion. It had only taken him an hour of looking through the files she’d created to set him up to take all the blame in this fiasco to realize she hadn’t been the woman he’d thought.

Owen could only hope Sofia had turned out better than Jocelyn.

Schaeffer had come so close to a beating when he’d accused Owen of screwing Sofia in Afghanistan, he still vibrated with the need to punch something.

The intercom on his phone buzzed and Owen startled. He pulled his gaze from Sofia’s photo and closed the file.

“Yes, Stephanie,” he said then cleared his throat when his voice came out raspy.

“The FBI is here to see you, sir.”

Alarm swirled in Owen’s gut. His gaze darted to Sofia’s file, then back to the phone.

Owen closed his eyes and covered his face. Her smile appeared on his closed lids and excitement, longing . . . desire . . . heated his body. When he opened his eyes, his gaze took in the frozen images of the lab and Schaeffer yelling at Halina.

All his emotions spiraled into a knot and lodged beneath his ribs in regret. He knew exactly how this would look to her. Just the way Schaeffer and Jocelyn had planned to make it look—like Owen was as corrupt as they were.

“Uh . . . sir?” Stephanie said. “Special Agent Seville—”

“Yes, Steph, sorry. I’ll . . . be right out.”

 

Halina gasped at the sight of the armed men skulking out of the snow-dappled forest. Mitch laid a hand on her knee from the front seat. She jumped and gripped the armrest, her gaze darting from the men closing in on the gate to Mitch’s face. Dex craned his neck and growled at the men.

“Tikhiy,”
Mitch murmured, then said to Halina. “It’s just the guards.”

Jesus Christ.
She released her breath as they drove through the gate and Mitch and Nelson waved at the others, who waved back. Behind them, the men closed the gate and dispersed back into the forest.

A shiver traveled across Halina’s shoulders and into her chest. “Okay, that was just . . . creepy.”

When she turned to face the front again, she realized Mitch’s hand was still on her knee, and she was holding it there. But his focus was out the windshield, and Halina followed his gaze as she released his hand.

The sight filling the wide windshield melted the last remnants of fear. A log-style home lay at the end of a curved drive. The wraparound porch was protected by Plexiglas and held two different sitting areas marked by rattan chairs with fluffy pads clustered around low coffee tables. A layer of foot-thick snow blanketed the high-peaked roof and icicles stretched from the eaves. A curl of smoke rose from a chimney near the back, warm light glowed from the windows, and everything was so . . . still.

She stared for a moment, soaking in the same sense of tranquility she often found on the lake in the bitter early morning hours, or when she went for a five a.m. row on the weekends when everyone else was still warm in bed.

Cravings stirred deep within her. She recognized the achy sensation of longing for a different kind of life. For companionship, friendship, love. Yes, she wanted passion too. The kind of passion she’d never found with anyone but Mitch. But having passion without the rest was like having icing without the cake.

A door closed and the car shook. Halina’s gaze came into sharp focus and she found herself alone with Mitch; Nelson was strolling toward two of the other guys.

She avoided looking at Mitch. He’d want to get out of the car in a few seconds. Want to go inside with the others. Her shoulder muscles tightened. Her heart rate sped.

“I have no idea what to expect in there.” She had to pull harder to get air. Sweat filmed her face and neck. “I know one person out of how many? Twelve?”

“Counting the kids,” he said, “yeah, twelve.”

“How much have you told them?” Halina asked, pressing a hand to her suddenly dizzy head.

“Most.”

She swore under her breath. “They’re going to hate me. How long are we staying?”

Mitch’s hand squeezed her knee again. “Hali, they are not going to hate you.”

“They should.”

“For them, this is about Schaeffer, not you. Teague escaped prison and took Alyssa hostage. Dragged her around the state, put her life at risk several times. Yes, Teague did those things himself, but we all know Schaeffer drove him to it.”

Hope sparked in the shadows of her heart. If he could see Teague’s actions as justified . . . maybe he could expand that view to include hers. “Even you?”

He held her gaze. Silence grew.

A smile lifted his lips—a dry, forced smile. “Extenuating circumstances, right?”

His hand left her knee and he turned to exit the car. The slam of the door felt like a fist to her heart. He could forgive Teague. But not her.

He pulled open her door and stood aside as Dex hesitated. Her dog glanced down at the snow, back up at Halina, down at the snow, and whined.

“Come on, boy,” Mitch said and Dex jumped down and sniffed the snow.

Halina climbed out and breathed deep. The air was sharp, crisp. Knowing what waited inside took the fairy-tale feel away from the beautiful home. She crossed her arms tight and just stood. Her feet seemed stuck.

Dex stood next to her, lifting his paws and setting them back down, looking at the snow with another whine.

“I don’t think he likes it,” Mitch said.

“He doesn’t know what it is.”

“Come on, Dex.” Mitch started for the house and gestured to the dog. “Inside.”

Dex bounded ahead and Mitch grinned. When he looked beside him and Halina wasn’t there, he turned and started back.

“You’re in good company here, Hali.” He put an arm around her shoulders and urged her forward. “These are people who understand you. Who’ve been through the same hardships—or worse.”

They climbed the stairs and he paused in front of the heavy wood and glass doors. He turned her toward him and took the collar of the faux-fur-lined parka Christy had picked up for her. His expression was serious, confident.

He’d relaxed since they’d deplaned, and while Halina had grown more tense as they’d approached this new confrontation, Mitch had grown almost peaceful. She didn’t know if anything she’d said on the plane had made a positive difference in his opinion of her. If anything, it had seemed to anger him more. Hurt him more. She’d hoped the truth—or partial truth—would have alleviated some of the pain she’d caused him.

“Together, we’re strong,” he said, conviction in his voice. “Together we cleared Teague of murder, took Mateo away from Rostov, and rescued Cash and Quaid from the Castle. Now that I’ve found you, we’ve got everyone back. We’re so close. Focus on making Schaeffer pay, Hali.”

There was that need for revenge again. She’d been a fool to think he could forgive her—even for only what he knew, which wasn’t the worst of it.

“You’re going to close the circle,” he whispered urgently, begging her to jump on board. “I’m sure of it.”

She lowered her gaze, unable to hold his when she knew she wouldn’t be the link he was hoping for. The link he thought he needed. That they all thought they needed.

A baby’s fussy complaints sounded through the doors. Halina tensed, glancing toward the glass, then back at Mitch. All the seriousness had vanished from his face, replaced by a huge grin as he turned toward the entry.

“God, I can’t wait to get ahold of that kid,” he murmured, more to himself than to Halina as he bent to pet Dex. “
Tikhiy,
boy.”

When Mitch opened the door, a soft ding sounded deeper in the house. Halina had a similar security system to signal an open door or window. She stepped into the house after Mitch, immediately focusing on the voices and laughter coming from somewhere to the left. The scents of burning wood and lavender would have made any normal guest feel instantly at home.

Halina stayed by the door while Mitch walked deeper into the foyer.

The joyous—and loud—scream of a little girl immediately filled the halls, echoing off the slate floors and making Halina wince.

“Uncle Miiitch . . .” She drew out his name as she ran down the hall toward him. She looked big for six, but Halina didn’t know much about kids. Her dark curls flew out behind her and a grin cut across her face.

Mitch leaned down to catch her just as she flung herself at him. Kat locked her arms around his neck, and Mitch closed his eyes in a look of complete joy.

“This is my favorite part of coming here,” he murmured, rocking her side to side. “I swear I leave just to come back for this.”