Resistance (The Variant Series #2) (23 page)

When Declan didn’t answer he tried for number three.

The world outside the garage looked like something straight out of that movie
The Perfect Storm
. Wind thrashed at the trees, the skies had turned an ominous shade of midnight blue bordering on black, and lightning was striking so often the roar of thunder was continuous.

Nate had a sinking feeling he knew exactly
what
—or, more precisely,
who
—was causing it. And if he was right, then either their timeline for the event had gone completely off the rails, or Brian’s visions had missed something
really
important.

This wasn’t supposed to be happening.

Not yet.

Even worse was the fact that Alex was already walking a thin line with the Agency. If this storm
was
her creation, then she needed to get it under control before the Director figured out what was going on and counted it as the final strike against the case for Alex’s freedom.

“Moshi moshi!”

Nate pulled the phone away from his ear to check the display, wondering if he’d somehow dialed the wrong number.

“Nate?” said the voice again.

“Kenzie?”

“Hai… Nanika atta?”

“English, Kenzie,” said Nate, taking the Charger through a hard left turn. “You know my Japanese is terrible.”

“Yeah, well,” she said in an undertone. “You
did
call me in the middle of class, and seeing as how my
Japanese instructor
is expecting to hear nothing but
Japanese conversations
right now, I figured I’d at least
attempt
to fly under the radar.” The sound of a door closing carried over the line. “Okay, I snuck into the hall. You’ve got sixty seconds. Is this about Alex and Declan cutting class?”

“They cut class?” he repeated. “Why? Where did they go?”

“No clue on either count,” she said. “There
was
this really weird déjà vu thing that happened earlier. I’m pretty sure Alex caused it, but I couldn’t begin to tell you how she did it or what it actually was.”

Déjà vu?

“And they left campus?”

“Yeah,” she said. “About fifteen minutes ago. Hey, that reminds me. Feel like giving me and Cass a ride now that ours has left us behind?”

“Call the boss, or ride the bus,” he said. “I’ve got to find Alex.”

“The
bus
?” she asked, aghast. “You’re joking right?”

“I’m not,” he said. “And if you figure out where Alex is you call me the
second
you know, got that?”

“Why? What’s going on?”

“There’s a good chance Alex is the one who created this storm,” he said.

The sound of Bay View High’s release bell carried over the line.

“
Alex
did? But that’s impossible. Weather manipulators don’t exist anymore. And even if they
did,
there sure as crap wouldn’t be one hanging around
Bay View
. They’d have a hell of a time flying under the Agency’s radar living next to the ocean. They’d be spending all their time…”

She trailed off.

“All their time doing what?” asked Nate. “Trying to avoid storms exactly like the one moving ashore right now?”

Nathaniel arrived at the turn off for Alex’s street, slowed, then drove straight past it.

“
Shit
.”

“What is it?” asked Kenzie.

A late model black Challenger was parked out front of Alex’s house.

“It’s the Agency,” he said. “They’re here for Alex.”

* * *

“Twelve minutes, Alex.”

“Okay, see,
that
? That counting thing? That is so not helping.”

“How hard is it to just take a breath and relax? That’s all you gotta do,” said Declan. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “Just breathe, dammit.”

Alex stared through the window and across the windswept promenade at the brick facade of the storefronts opposite the cafe.

She tried again to clear her thoughts.

It didn’t go so well. Less than a minute later, she was weighing the pros and cons of jumping to some barren wasteland, or maybe an unpopulated island in the middle of the Pacific.

Partly to relocate the storm to a place where no one would be harmed.

Partly to escape from Declan.

Trying to concentrate on anything with him
hovering
like that was proving next to impossible.

“There’s something about this ability that I just don’t get,” she said, finally. “If anything, all my attempts to weaken this storm are just making it worse.”

Bayside Brews had remained empty since their arrival, the storm effectively putting a halt to tourism on the boardwalk for the afternoon.

Before disappearing into the back room, the barista warned them that she, too, would be closing up shop in half an hour, unless the storm started to let up.

It wouldn’t make much difference for Alex either way. In another ten minutes, Declan would be dragging her back to the beach house—and then knocking her out.

He was still being disturbingly vague about exactly
how
he planned to do that.

“I need to find Aaron,” she said. “He’s the only one who can tell me how to control this… this…
whatever
it is.”

“Not gonna happen,” said Declan. “You can’t just go around telling everyone we meet about what you are and what you can do. We know nothing about this guy.”

Declan’s words said “no,” but there was a waver of uncertainty in his voice that suggested he was beginning to doubt his decision.

“Yeah, and we know nothing about his
ability
, either,” she said. “Knocking me out makes sense for the short term, but that’s not going to help me if this happens again. I need to be able to control it.”

Declan shook his head.

Swallowing a sigh, Alex slipped off the barstool.

“Where do you think you’re going?” asked Declan.

She arched an eyebrow. “The bathroom?”

“So you can jump and run off to look for Aaron? Not a chance.”

Alex rolled her eyes. “Paranoid much? Decks, we’re sitting in the empty corner of an equally empty cafe. If I wanted to leave you and go find Aaron, then I would just
leave you
and
go find Aaron.
I wouldn’t have to sneak off to a bathroom to do it.”

Grabbing the strap of her bag, Alex put it over her shoulder and started toward the bathroom. She had just turned the corner at the back of the cafe when a bell jingled softly at the front entrance.

“Good afternoon, Mr. O’Connell,” said a cold voice.

Nearly tripping over herself in her surprise, Alex scrambled to flatten her back against the wall of the hallway so that she wouldn’t be observed by anyone at the cafe’s entrance.

“Director,” said Declan, his voice a little louder than was necessary, obviously hoping to catch Alex’s attention.

She cringed.

Subtle, Declan
, she thought.
Real subtle.

“You’re a long way from DC this afternoon,” he added. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this ambush?”

Alex snuck a quick glance at the entrance while Declan spoke.

Director Carter stood just inside the door to the cafe, dressed smartly in a white pantsuit that, when combined with the paleness of her glacial blue eyes and the glint of her silvery hair, gave her the appearance of a modern-day Snow Queen, straight out of a fairy tale.

Ice Queen is more like it
, thought Alex.

Two men in black suits flanked the Director. Alex immediately recognized the man on the left by his bland smile, shaved head, and the black tattoos swirling out from the collar of his dress shirt. It was the same agent who had once stood guard over her friends and Aunt Cil while they were being held hostage at an Agency black site in New York.

The agent—Dimitri, a Vladivostok-born Variant capable of turning himself and others around him invisible—swung his head in her direction.

Alex ducked back out of sight.

Had Dimitri used his ability to help the Director eavesdrop on her conversation with Declan? Did they
know
Alex was here in the cafe?

“Where is your charge this afternoon, Mr. O’Connell?”

“How should I know?” he replied. “School’s out. I’m off the clock.”

The Director took a few steps closer, her heels clicking on the polished concrete floor. “Odd weather you’re having this afternoon, wouldn’t you agree?”

Declan snorted in amusement. “Climate change sure is a bitch,” he said. “Never know what to expect from
Mother Nature
these days. You might
expect
her to follow the rules, but more often than naught, she turns right around does the
exact thing
you were hoping she
wouldn’t do
.”

Alex furrowed a brow.

Was that…?

Did Declan just order her to go and find Aaron?

“Dimitri.” The Director’s voice was angry. “Check the back rooms. Find Miss Parker.”

“Yes, sir.”

Crap
.

There was no time left to sit and puzzle over Declan’s veiled instructions.

Alex jumped.

— 19 —

“A
lex slammed on the brakes and yanked the steering wheel to the right, sending up a spray of wet sand as she sped off down the empty side road, back in the direction she’d just come from.

Wind breezed through the open windows as Alex squinted at the road ahead. The intermittent rains had ceased once more but, if anything, the storm over Bay View was only growing stronger as the afternoon went on.

Alex had finally given up on trying to tame it.

Instead, she’d switched the majority of her attention toward not accidentally wrecking the jeep as she crisscrossed town in her desperate search for Aaron.

Her borrowed telepathy allowed her to scan the nearby neighborhoods as she drove, but with so many distractions on the road, she was finding it difficult to split her focus.

Alex wished she’d taken the time to find Kenzie after jumping back to campus to get the jeep. She could have used Red’s help with the search.

For the third time in as many minutes, Alex found herself wondering how her friends were faring. Her cell phone was still on silent, buried somewhere in her messenger bag, abandoned to the floorboards of the jeep’s backseat.

Thunder rumbled overhead.

The rain was holding off, for now, but the increasingly gusty winds had already made a mess of the roads. And of course, there was also the distraction of the cloud-to-ground lightning striking within yards of the jeep every few minutes.

Which was
always
a fun thing to deal with while driving.

Palm fronds, broken branches and stray litter whipped wildly across the streets, creating an obstacle course that required Alex’s undivided attention. Something that, unfortunately, just wasn’t an option at this point.

After twenty minutes of driving, Alex still was no closer to finding her quarry. His mental signature was nowhere to be found.

She was starting to worry that he’d ditched class earlier in order to
skip town
.

Alex skidded to a halt at a four-way stop.

Left or right this time?

“What the hell?” she muttered to herself. “Let’s go left.”

Alex peeled out, whipping the jeep through the traffic, tires squealing—then immediately swerved to avoid a fallen branch taking up an entire lane.

Suddenly, the winds stilled.

Alex only had a moment to puzzle over the sudden quiet before the skies opened up, releasing a torrential downpour and a shower of pea sized hail that ricocheted loudly off the hood.

What would she do if she couldn’t locate Aaron?

A bolt of lightning struck a towering water oak tree ahead and to her right, splitting its trunk in two.

Alex gasped as the top half of the tree crashed down into the roadway just in front of her.

She brought the jeep skidding to a halt, inches from the massive trunk.

Cursing, Alex parked the jeep and fought to catch her breath. She’d probably lost a few years off her lifespan after
that
little scare.

Alex let her head fall back against the seat.

She really shouldn’t be driving and scanning at the same time. If she’d been any more focused on her search for Aaron, she might not have hit the brakes in time.

Alex closed her eyes.

… can’t breathe… never going to be able to control it if they… stay awake… run… I have to run…

Her eyes flew open.

Aaron!

“Gotcha,” she said, flashing a real smile for the first time that afternoon.

Alex latched onto the thought signature and dipped into one of its more recent memories—a string of images still at the forefront of the person’s thoughts.

He was staring into the bathroom mirror while blood dripped steadily from his nose, mixing with the tap water in the white porcelain sink below. Brilliant pink eddies raced each other toward the drain.

His head ached.

His concentration was slipping.

He was terrified.

He couldn’t control the storm any longer, but what would happen if he stopped trying? This storm now had the potential to make the previous hurricane look like a light shower in comparison.

A knock sounded at his front door and he staggered into the living room.

He pressed his palms against the white wood, smudging it red with the blood on his hands, and leaned forward to look through the peephole.

“Jesus Christ,” he mumbled, pushing off the door and tottering backward toward his couch. “Jesus
effing
Christ…”

A rush of adrenaline coursed through his veins, clearing his thoughts and prepping his tired muscles to run.

The Devil was knocking at Aaron Gale’s door.