Ordinary (Anything But) (21 page)

Honor sat by him
, the scent of her, the heat of her body, rolling over to cocoon him, causing yearning to slam into him, fast and fierce. Nealon drove and Burns was in the passenger seat. They were discussing their plan for bringing the UD in. Ryder could have told them not to bother. Her arm touched his when she leaned forward and said something to Nealon. Ryder stared at her back. He couldn’t shoot her, he couldn’t do anything to maim her or hurt her. But he had to. He closed his eyes.

There was a good chance everything he’d thought for the last two years had been wrong. All
of that resentment, anger, hatred, and blame; what if it had all been for nothing? He felt Nealon’s eyes on him in the rearview mirror. He met his gaze, his defiant.  Ryder had never been able to figure the agent out. Nealon kept to himself, did his job with fairness, but he had noticed he was extra sensitive where Honor was concerned. Why was he always watching him, like he thought he was going to lose it?

***

The weight of the gun was heavy in his hands with consequences and obligations. His grip was tight, his hands slick with sweat. It beaded on his upper lip and forehead. His hands were shaking. Ryder leaned his back against a wall and glanced around it. He remembered the first time he’d seen her. He’d heard about Honor, heard the most likely mistruths August had told him about her father, about her. Ryder had yet to see her at that point, the mysterious girl that was probably either going to turn into a UD or a UDK.

She’d been running for track practice, past his house. Ryder never had figured out how he’d known it was her. There was a group of girls, their bodies slim and toned, all of them noteworthy, but none of them had caught his attention like
she had. He’d been outside shooting hoops. He missed the shot. He never missed the shot. The ball dribbled back to him, but he didn’t know it because his eyes were on the slight girl with the pale skin, black as midnight hair, and fierce expression on her face. She’d glanced at him and kept going, disappearing around the corner. Ryder swept down the alley, close to the side of a building. He saw them, saw Honor against the wall and Christian looming over her. His stomach roiled over and over and Ryder sagged against a wall, the smell of a nearby dumpster making the nausea even worse.

“Stay right there,” Ryder called out, the gun somehow steady in hands that trembled.

Honor looked at him. There was no fear in her gaze, only strength. She turned to Christian. “
Run
.”

When Christian darted to the left Ryder instinctively pulled the trigger. Honor’s eyes widened, still fixed on his. There was surprise there, but not condemnation. What he deserved was blame. Ryder welcomed it. Honor never had been agreeable. He’d shot Christian. He knew she’d never forgive him for that after she got over the shock. Ryder couldn’t have shot her, not Honor.
Her eyelids fluttered, her face went deathly white, and when she started to fall and Nealon caught her, it finally registered in his brain. Nealon looked up, his face promising swift and destroyable revenge. Ryder stumbled back, bile rising in his throat. He hadn’t shot Christian. He’d shot Honor.

Dark liquid seeped over her stomach, the metallic scent of blood hit him.
Stunned, he watched the blood blossom like a flower of death, his being frozen with disbelief.
What did I do? What did I do?
The gun dropped from his limp hand. Ryder fell to his knees, his body swaying. What had he done? Tears burned his eyes as his throat closed. He covered his face with his hands and hung his head. In Ryder’s pain-induced world of darkness, something shifted, something changed. Beyond the anguish was rage, a need for vindication. August was behind this. This was his fault. He let the blackness take over him, consume him, fill him with one single need. August had to be stopped. Ryder would be the one to stop him.

Some days he would have given just about anything to be a normal, average person, not some being with super powered eyeballs. It really wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Isaac took the call on his cell phone. Another had turned. Twelve years he’d been dealing with this crap, since he was sixteen and the UD virus had decided to morph him into a UDK. The odds of a UD going postal were slim, but they did happen. No more than any crazy person that had no excuse to go off on a killing spree. Isaac was thinking more and more that it was wrong to keep them locked up during the change, to monitor them for the rest of their lives.

He was getting jaded, wondering if it was worth it, wondering what he was doing, in all honesty. Or maybe he was getting smarter. It didn’t matter what Isaac thought; it only mattered what everyone
thought
he thought. He’d never wanted a career in acting, but he’d gotten one anyway. Isaac rubbed his tired eyes and stared at the empty coffeepot on his kitchen counter. He had been up most of the night, trying to calm down a suicidal UDK. He’d already had two pots of coffee, but it was time to make another one. He set about doing so, his movements slow and stiff. It was supposed to be his day off. He never got a day off. He cast a bleary eye around his small kitchen with the flowery wallpaper Isaac had always meant to tear down. There was never enough time. The strong brew filled the room. Isaac poured the pot into a thermos; made sure he had his gun and keys, and locked up the small house.

***

“Heard there’s two in the school that might be infected,” Burns said, cigarette between his lips.

They stood against the UDK-issued silver vehicle, eyes trained on the quaint school with its brick siding, blooming greenery, and what normal people would call monste
rs and freaks within its walls. Isaac shifted his stance, hot in his dark suit that attracted the sun. Even the sporadic breezes were warm.

He shoved the sunglasses that wanted to slip down his no
se back up and looked at Burns. “We know for sure one is. That’s why we’re here.”

“Yeah.
That’s what I meant.” Sure he did. Burns was a small-minded man with big dreams. He wanted to be another Superior August someday. The man didn’t know what he was asking for.

Isaac straightened. There he was. Gray aura fading in and out around his body, unnatural eyes that seemed to glow silver; it wasn’t hard for Isaac to spot him. The boy’s face was twisted in pain and he stumbled more than
walked, his body hunched over. He felt that familiar empathy he always did when he saw one change. It had been explained to him once as feeling like the veins; blood, everything inside you was freezing, turning to ice, and then shattering—not exactly pleasant.

“Here he comes,” Burns murmured, sounding excited.

The boy saw them. In some part of his brain that wasn’t overcome with agony, it must have registered that something wasn’t right with them being there, watching him. Isaac started for him and Burns followed. He looked scared, but more than anything, he looked to be in immense pain.

“You need to cooperate and come with us, Christian Turner,” Burns said, flicking the cigarette to the ground.

The boy’s eyes darted in his head, an arm across his stomach. “Screw…you…” he rasped out. He began to fall forward, but managed to catch himself.

“I don’t think so,” Burns said, grabbing him.

Christian tried to get loose, but he was too weak. Isaac supported Christian’s other side when his legs gave out. His skin was cold and clammy. He was dead weight, passed out. Isaac felt eyes on him and looked up, toward the school. He went still, stunned by the young girl’s beauty, but what held his attention the most was the look in her eyes. It was fierce and strong. She quickly looked away, turning her back to them. He blinked and helped Burns load Christian into the SUV. The photograph in the file the UDKs had on Honor Rochester did not do her justice.

***

When Honor ran, after Isaac got over the initial surprise; no one ran, he had to admire her courage. She’d just made his job ten times harder, but somehow it didn’t matter to him. Would his life have been different if
he’d
run? Would Demi still be alive if he’d stood up for himself instead of simply conforming? Pain slammed into him and his breath was stolen as an image of her silvery eyes swept through his mind. If Isaac had done one single thing differently, maybe his whole life could have been different; maybe he’d still have Demi—then again, maybe not.

T
hat was the first hint Honor wasn’t going to be the usual UDK newbie. Usually newbies were too scared to do anything but comply. There were so many instances when she showed her inner strength, her firm belief in what was right and wrong. When she attacked Ryder, when she showed how full of life and fearsome she could be, he’d secretly been cheering her on. As he’d carried her away and she’d given in to the pull of slumber, her pale face exhausted and dark circles under her eyes, Isaac had thought her the most magnificent creature he’d ever witnessed in action.

He hated that she looked up to him, that she was looking for a father figure, or whatever it was she needed in her life and had for some reason found in him. Isaac wasn’t worthy, he wasn’t what she needed. Isaac didn’t want to care about her, he didn’t want her to be any different than any other UDK he brought in, guided, and let go
out into the world, but she was. Honor surprised him, made him think, and made him question himself and others. Honor wielded so much power and didn’t even know it. Unfortunately, August did.

“She’s not a threat, sir.”

They were at the UD Headquarters in Owl Mountain. Isaac’s shift should have ended hours ago, but when the boss requested your presence, you went. August’s old man smell surrounded Isaac, making it hard for him to breathe. Superior August watched Honor on the monitor. It was footage from earlier that night when she’d thought she was sneaking around to see Christian. She had to have known by then that anything she did was because they allowed her to.

“Do you see that?
The way she cares for him? That makes her dangerous to the cause, to the other UDKs. If her loyalty is to a UD she is compromised.”

His stomach muscles clenched. Whatever Superior August was thinking, it wasn’t good, not for Honor. Isaac had to try to make him see reason with
out being too obvious about it. “They go to school together. She knows him. It’s natural for her to be concerned.”

August’s eyes cooled. “I knew her father, Nealon.”

“Her father was a UD. She’s a UDK.”

“What does that have to do with DNA?”

“Honor is a little headstrong, I know, but people respond to her. She’s a natural leader.”

August leaned back in his chair, his icicle eyes set on Isaac.
“Exactly. There are enough UDK leaders. We don’t need some rebellious teen starting a war against us because she thinks she knows everything and she knows
nothing
. She cares too much about the UD. Move him. Immediately. I’ll decide what should be done with her as well.” Isaac’s insides chilled, but he made sure his face revealed nothing. He gave a brusque nod and got to his feet.

“What are your thoughts on Ryder?”

He paused. “Why do you ask?”

August shifted in the chair and clasped his hands together. “He hasn’t been acting
like his usual self lately. I think she may have something to do with it.” He pointed at the monitor. It showed Honor running up the stairs. Another camera caught her stepping into the open room used for assemblies. “See there? All she’s done is proven herself to be a liability. She is a bad influence. Maybe more UD blood runs through her veins than there should be.”

Isaac stared at the monitor, watched with a sinking stomach as Honor tried to help the hysterical boy,
watched her face as he was knocked unconscious. A chunk of ice fell away from the shell around his heart and Isaac turned away, unable to watch anymore. Why did she have to be like that—so proud and brave?

“That was unnecessary management of the incident,” was all he said.

August turned in his chair to gaze at him, a thoughtful look on his face. “He wasn’t shot,” he stated.

Isaac met the cold man’s gaze. He didn’t care about any of them. The UDs were less than human to him and Superior August wasn’t even really that fond of any life form, especially an undead one. They all had a purpose, a reason for living, and it all centered
around him. He pretended to be fair and to frown on violence; he too was a good actor. To Maximus August all the UDKs symbolized was power to him, and as long as they were kept under control, they were safe. The moment they proved to have a strong will, like Honor, it usually ended badly for them. Isaac had tried to warn her. She hadn’t listened.

Grim-faced, Isaac said, “I’ll take care of it.”

August didn’t speak for a drawn out moment. “I know you will. You always do,” he finally said.

Isaac strode from the room, angry and tired and sickened by his superior, himself, all of it. That was him; master of fixing anything that was a possible glitch in August’s smooth plans for the UDK dynasty. Isaac had earned the title and that revolted him the most.