Lost Energy (23 page)

Finally.

"You believed in me before.
Believe in me now because I believe in you. And I believe in your people. We
can
win, Teenesee."

Sadness tinged her eyes. "I am
too weak to help you."

"That will change soon."

"If they kill me…"

I stood and palmed my heart like a
knight in Arthur's court. Maybe silly, but that was how I felt and I was going
with it. "They won't get a chance, I swear."

She breathed in and rose on shaky
legs as she exhaled. "My brave Lena."

A snort interrupted the moment. "More
bravery than brains, that's for sure."

I glared at Wilma, who came up behind
us with a smirk. The pride shining on her face was the one reason I didn't
snap.

Teenesee laughed. Damn, my
Protector knew exactly what to say. Sadness had to be over. We needed to work.

I marched to a side table holding
dried fruit and a water carafe. After pouring a glass and snatching a handful
of dried apples, I went back to the Warden. "Eat something and we'll get
down to business."

She accepted my offering after a hesitation.
"To think I'd have you caring for me and not the other way around?"

"Just don't ask me to cook."
I turned to Wilma and Zander. "What now?"

Zander shrugged with his hands out
while Wilma crossed her arms over her chest with a grin. "Well, for starters
you need to work on your groveling skills."

"Uh, what?"

"Winston's opening a portal
now, right outside the manse drawbridge with thirteen new buddies." She
tapped her head. "Sounds like he kept your presence a neat surprise."

Oh, shit.

DIPLOMACY

H
aving to apologize for shit I didn't
do pissed me off. God knew Exemplians could hold a grudge–Mateusz proved that
in the spring. I didn't grovel for him, and I sure as hell didn't want to bow
down to the bad tempers of whomever Winston brought through the portal.

Fuck him for not warning them I'd
be here. Christ, I left Arcus before they got there–he should've told them
then, given them a choice to either fight or leave. I had to do all the
convincing? When they all hated me?

Yeah, fuck him. No way would I lose
sleep if those assholes hated me.

So why wouldn't the nerves stop
jumping around long enough to confront said assholes?

Damn, I needed help–of the
psychiatric variety.

Thankfully, I wasn't alone. Wilma
and Farren flanked me with Zander and Teenesee walking ahead of us. Farren's
subtle limp was the only indication his leg burned. After I left Teenesee's
room, Wilma was kind enough to inform me that if the bullet had lodged in his
flesh, the compound in it would have dispersed, killing him while pulling his
energy inside. Since she told me, my hand hadn't left his. To think he'd come
so close…

No. Nope. Not gonna go there.

We all filed into the room, Zander
and I sitting on the sofa with Farren standing behind us–after he managed to
yank his hand free. He bent down to whisper in my ear. "I ain't going
anywhere, kid. Relax."

"Stop getting shot."

He chuckled, standing tall. "Stop
making me knock you out."

"Fine." I gave Zander a
quick reassuring smile that didn't show the chaos in my stomach. Man, I wanted
to throw up.

Instead, I sat straighter, put on
the bitch face, and waited. They weren't gonna see me scared. So what if my
legs shook like leaves in a windstorm?

Wilma and Teenesee stayed in front
of the sofa, as if not seeing me right off the bat would soften the blow.
Sitting there, like a damn wuss hiding from the asshole brigade caused anger to
eat up the nerves. Not that I wasn't grateful they decided to come.

Really.

But…assholes.

When heavy footsteps came closer,
the nerve/anger cocktail wouldn't let me cower behind Wilma any longer. Zander
tugged on my hand as I went to get up, which accomplished pissing me off more. "Let.
Go."

"Lena, don't. These
people…they're not going to react well."

Before I could tell him to shut up,
Wilma pulled my hand from his and guided me to stand beside her. "If she
wants to stand, let her stand, boy." She winked at me. "My girl's no
coward."

I squeezed her hand, staring
forward.

Footsteps stopped right outside the
door, and…nothing. We all watched the thing, waiting for the marble and plaster
to swing open. Leave it to Winston to create drama. But when not even the
door's thickness quieted all the yelling coming from the other side, I figured
out his reason for all the theatrics.

Great timing.

Sweat trickled down my spine and
beaded on my upper lip. The sweating got really serious when Wilma bent a knee
and balled her fists, while Farren came to stand beside her. Wilma glanced at
him long enough to say, "Be ready."

Full-on Protector mode, Farren
nodded, his attention centered on the door.

Teenesee, too weak to stand on her
own, leaned against the sofa. "I'll not let petty grudges hinder my people's
freedom."

I lifted my chin, even though my
legs begged me to run and hide. "They accept the situation, or they leave.
Their choice, but when the bastards invade Earth, whoever leaves won't get help
from us."

Farren's voice, more like a growl,
answered. "You're goddamn right."

My mouth went dry as soon as the
yelling stopped and silence took over. As much as I hated the immediate
confrontation, actually having them leave would screw us.

You got this, Tainted?
Winston's voice, soft and mellow,
bounced around in my head.

I clenched my fists, and whispered,
"Yeah."

As soon as the word left my mouth,
the doors flew open, Winston the first to enter. He gave a slight bow to
Teenesee, who nodded, saying nothing. He then moved aside to let everyone else
file in, Avery and Nicolette bringing up the rear. The thirteen newbies in the
middle had my jaw dropping.

Like Winston said when I met him, I
had a hard time with stereotypes. Another thing I'd need to work on if I lived
long enough. Only one or two looked like Abercrombie from the gas station, a
guy and girl. Seriously. They could've been on those sexy
billboards…well…without the present expressions scrunching up their faces. I,
for one, would never buy tight jeans from people who looked like they wanted to
tear out my throat.

The rest looked like everyday people.
Average. Unremarkable. One even looked old enough to be my grandmother. A few
resembled the stuffy librarian from high school, while others looked like they
drove minivans and were in morning carpools. They did have one thing in common.
The bullets shooting from their eyes, directed at me.

Sticky, wet heat drenched my
armpits, soaking my shirt. No one spoke, so different from all the commotion a
few minutes ago. There wasn't a need, though. Their eyes said all I needed to
hear loud and clear.

I swallowed, wishing for some
water, and took a step forward. I glanced at Winston. "Probably could've
handled this a little better, huh?"

He shrugged, staying in between the
Us and Them teams. "Eh, it's all good."

"Right."
Okay, who's
the angriest-looking asshole…ah, supermodel boy.
"You wanna start, big
guy?"

Wow, did he ever.

He lunged, fists flailing. He didn't
get far. Both Wilma and Winston threw up their hands as Farren moved to tackle
the guy. Ginger didn't get a chance to put Handsome on the ground because Winston
had him slammed against the wall, immobile.

I tried not to flinch. Everything
happened so fast. Farren pushed me behind him while Winston kept the guy
hanging on the wall.

Wilma tilted her head, hands on
hips. "Nice moves, but I had him."

Winston smiled and dropped his
hand. The guy fell to the ground, but hopped back up, moving to come at me
again. Winston waived toward Wilma. "He's all yours."

She froze Handsome in his tracks a
couple feet from Farren. "Take it easy, hot stuff. We're not the enemy."

No one else tried to attack. Not
that they could, with Farren's big body shielding mine and two of the strongest
Protectors ever performing parlor tricks at the expense of the now furious
Handsome. I moved within inches from him. "What's your name?"

He spit in my face.

"You sonofabitch!" Farren
moved like lightning, his limp unnoticeable, and punched the guy square in the
jaw. Shaking his hand, he gave me a wink before using his sleeve to wipe the
spit off my cheek. "And that, kid, is the proper way to give a right hook."

Being angry would add to the
tension in the room, but spit in the face…yeah, that really sucked. "Thanks,
Ginger. Let's not beat our guests while frozen, though, okay? Not exactly fair
odds."

He removed the last of the saliva. "Don't
care. He spits on you again, I'll rip out his tongue." Farren said it loud
enough for everyone to hear. Unfortunately, the confrontation headed in the
exact direction I thought it would.

Sighing, I moved to put a hand on
Wilma's arm, letting my thoughts flow.
I'm gonna have to show them they can
trust me.

Her subtle nod indicated she'd
gotten the message.

Stepping toward Handsome again, his
lip bloody, I crossed my arms, making sure to stand a little farther back, out
of spitting range. "Let him go, Wilma."

When he regained control of his
body, he wiped the blood off his face, hate pouring from his eyes. "Would've
planned better if I had known you were involved."

I cocked my head to the side. "Yeah?"

His face was still pretty with the
split lip. "Your death has topped the list for years."

When footsteps rushed behind me, I
held up a hand and shook my head. I smiled, though I really wanted to fall to
my knees and beg him not to kill me. "Well, someone beat you to it–over eighteen
years ago."

He returned my smile, his blue eyes
cold and lethal. "Good thing about knowing the truth is the possibility of
killing people more than once."

My arms stayed crossed to avoid
showing both the pit stains and the trembling. "You're not gonna get the
chance…ah, name?"

He stayed silent.

"You want me to call you
asshole, then?"

He raised a brow, the ice melting
in his eyes. "Oren."

"Okay, Oren, here's the deal."
I moved to stand in the middle of the furious thirteen. "I get you all
hate me, and I also get that Winston not telling you I was here threw you a
curve."

Oren stepped closer to the older
woman, as if I had plans on dropping her to the ground.

Hmm….interesting.

I moved in their direction, his
body going rigid, and instantly felt the static. A Guide. His Guide, for sure. I
continued while watching her expression, not filled with rage like everyone
else. "I'm only gonna say this once.
I
am not the person you
despise.
I
didn't blackmail you. And we all know what will happen if Exemplar
begins to wage a war on dimensions, seeing as how you've made a pit stop in
Arcus before coming here."

I paused, giving them all a chance
to let that sink in. They were Exemplians, and so they should get how serious
the situation was without me going into gory detail.

When shoulders relaxed and the
death stares dimmed, I cleared my throat. "I might have been your enemy
before, but I'm your ally now. We can stop them–as long as we can be civil
enough to trust none of us will cut each other's throats."

Oren piped in, his voice hard. "If
you think the small lot of us has a chance in hell at taking down Exemplar, you're
delusional. They'll keep coming until they get what they want."

"Maybe so, but we can win
this
battle. We'll worry about each attack as they come." I smiled at the older
woman. "And now that we have four Guides, finding the nest will be easier."

Oren stood in front of her before
she could answer. "Grace won't be joining the fight."

"She can't speak for herself?"

He took a step forward, and no
amount of convincing with my hand gestures prevented Wilma from coming to my
side. "You touch Lena, I hurt you. Simple." She moved to stand beside
Farren, who rocked a death stare. "Listen to what the girl has to say and
maybe you'll learn something."

Oren clenched his jaw, the left
side developing a tic. He then moved back to the older woman, grabbing her
hand. "Like I said, she's not helping."

The woman pulled her hand from Oren's
before patting his forearm. "It's fine, Ore. I can speak."

I nodded, not taking my eyes off
Oren's angry face. "Yeah,
Ore
. Let her speak."

The older woman wagged a finger in
my face. "There isn't a need to antagonize. He's trying to protect me, as
are the people who love you."

Ah!
She had me. Lowering my gaze away
from Oren to acknowledge Grace, I smiled, though my face burned. "Sorry.
You're right. He's your Protector, I take it?"

She folded her hands, fingers
bending with arthritis, and returned my smile. "That's what he tells me,
anyway."

My insides froze. "What do you
mean?"

"Oren landed on my doorstep
one day, and I decided to like his company. To be honest," she tapped her
forehead, "I thought he was a might touched, you know, in the head? Never
really believed his stories until your friends came to us."

Holy…
So, she was like me.