United (The Guardians Book 2) (4 page)

Even Walker swooned a little at that.

“So you're a hobo?” Nicky asked bluntly, unimpressed. Gable had to press her lips together to hold in a chuckle at his jealousy.

Ward was gorgeous. Supermodel gorgeous, though living on the road had made him a little rough around the edges. He was kind of a perfect specimen as far as Gable was concerned. No amount of sleeping in his car could take away from those hypnotizing green and yellow eyes or that soft blond hair and a body that was just. . .killer. He was just. . .completely unaware of how hot he was, which only made him that much hotter. And any guy that was genuine and charming enough to turn even icy Walker to mush was someone worth knowing. Nicky and Zay, so used to being the most attractive guys in any room, were definitely put out.

“I guess if you want to label me you could call me a hippie, or a traveler,” Ward replied, not at all offended by Nicky's attitude. Either that or he just hadn't noticed. “It's kind of in my blood. My parents travel too, doing the same thing as me, but they like to stay in Europe whereas I prefer it right here in the USA.”

Nicky grunted. Even he couldn't argue with that.

Amused, Terelle stepped up and placed a friendly arm around Ward's shoulders. As tall as she was, she stood almost head to head with him, though he was over six feet tall. “Let us all toast Ward for coming to us in our time of desperate need.”

They all lifted their tankards of wine to him. Even Zay and Nicky.

“The task ahead of you is dangerous,” Charles warned him as he joined in. “Are you quite prepared for that?”

“I don't mind the danger, I just want to help,” Ward said genuinely. He held up his tankard again. “Here's to danger!”

“Maybe I'll become a musician,” Fortune mused optimistically. “You know, when I get out of here.”

They were watching an obscure movie about an Irish musician on the grainy, old fashioned television set a couple of the slightly less evil guards pushed into the center of the aisle between the two rows of prison cells a couple of times a month. The room was long and most of the inmates couldn't even see the screen, and they played the same three crappy movies on a cycle, but the strange act of kindness was appreciated nonetheless. Especially by Fortune and Sacha, whose cell was almost right in the middle of the aisle so they always had a good view. It was okay, if you could ignore the mind numbing repetition. Even the dreariest of movies became interesting when there was nothing else to do but watch.

“You play any instruments?” Sacha asked without taking his eyes away from the screen.

“Nope.”

A small grin tugged at one corner of Sacha's lips. “Sounds like a stellar plan then.”

“I could learn.”

“Sure thing, rock star.”

“Do you play anything?”

“No. Father wanted me to learn, but I never did.”

“The fallen angel, right?”

“Yeah. Abasi. He played guitar. I tried, but my fingers were too big.” He held up one of his large hands and stared at it. “Too strong, too. I kept breaking the guitar necks when I held them too tight. That was before I learned to control my human half.”

“Well, that's a shame. We could've started a band. Anyone else play any instruments?” he called loudly.

“Shut the hell up!” someone yelled back, probably grumpy Eadgar, the clairvoyant. “I'm tryna listen over here.”

“It hasn't exactly changed since the last time we watched it,” he replied dryly.

“I'll break your face, fire elemental!”

He rolled his eyes. “I suppose my dreams of being a musical genius will have to wait.”

“Good.” Sacha folded one long leg over the other. “It was a shitty idea.”

Fortune grinned at his friend. Sacha's dry humor was back and he was sounding a little better; he suspected it had something to do with the absence of testing. As one of the rarer Outcast breeds, Sacha was forced to suffer almost double the amount of testing as Fortune and some of the others.

They watched for a while longer. Fortune was just starting to drift off into a doze when a commotion in one of the cells towards the end of the corridor startled him awake. Sacha leaned up from his slouched position and swung his legs over the side of his cot while Fortune jumped and ran to the bars to look. He wasn't the only one; faces were pressing through the bars all the way down the corridor as they tried to see what was going on.

“What is it?” Sacha asked, though it didn't seem like he'd found enough energy to get up and look for himself.

“No,” Fortune whispered. The cold iron pressed against his cheeks as he watched the guards drag a terrified witch from her cell. They forcibly escorted her down the long aisle, towards the spiral stairwell that led to the level above. . .to the labs. He gripped the bars between his fists and closed his eyes.

“Fortune?”

Slowly, he released his hold and turned back to his friend, his face pale. Sacha was waiting expectantly, his elbows resting on his knees.

“They've started again. The bloody bastards have started testing again.”

Every Outcast in the city was talking about Ward's arrival – the Guardians and Terelle made sure of that. They made it into a much bigger deal than it actually was and started up a whole host of rumors – anything to get people talking. They also made sure he was out in public. A lot.

They weren't obvious about it. It wasn't like they wrapped him up in a big sparkly ribbon with a sign attached that read, 'I'm an earth elemental, please kidnap me', but they made sure people knew where he was and what he was doing. He went to sports games, charity events, dinners with a lot of beautiful women. It was a hard job, he said, but he somehow managed to suffer through.

The Guardians kept a close eye on him at all times, remaining nearby but out of sight.

It took four very long days before Zebb and Uang finally took the bait.

“You look real pretty tonight,” Ward told Gable. His father was English and his mother Californian, but Ward had spent most of his time traveling the South so had a faint Southern twang.

He was all tucked up in bed, fully clothed, in a hotel in Brooklyn. It was a nice place – though not so nice that the repair bills would be astronomical should a fight come their way. He'd made an appearance at a party downstairs in the bar and then very loudly announced his plans to go to bed. And now they were waiting. Just waiting, like they had every other night.

“It's dark,” Gable replied dryly, though her mouth twitched. “You can't even see me.”

“Earth elemental,” he pointed out. “I can see in the dark.”

“I didn't know that was one of your talents.”

“I have many talents you don't know about,” he teased.

She grinned, because she knew he was only flirting to pass the time and that he didn't truly mean anything by it.

Leaning back in the armchair next to the bed, she folded her leg over her knee and jiggled her foot up and down impatiently. “Hush. You're supposed to be sleeping.”

They remained in silence for well over an hour. She could tell Ward hadn't actually fallen asleep because he sighed and shifted every couple of minutes.

Finally, sometime after midnight, they heard a faint, almost unnoticeable scratching sound at the door.  

Gable tensed. It was the moment they'd been waiting for.

Very quietly, the lock clicked as it was expertly picked, and then the door swung slowly open. Zebb and Uang must have found a way to turn off the automatic lights in the hallway behind them because no light entered the room. But then she'd expected no less – they had been Pablo's best.

She could just make out their shadowy figures; she'd recognize the two of them anywhere, even in the dark. The three of them had worked plenty of nighttime jobs together for Pablo.

“Okay, shoot the fucker with the tranquilizer gun before he wakes up,” she heard Zebb whisper.

Reaching out, she flicked on the bedside lamp and sat back casually, a pleasant smile upon her face. “Hello, boys.”

They blinked for a moment as their eyes adjusted to the dim light. Their surprise at seeing Gable only lasted a second – they were just as good as her at concealing their true feelings.

Zebb puckered his lips as he tried not to grin too wide. He thought he had her just where he wanted. “You know, I've been
dying
to bump into you now the boss ain't around to stop me blowin' your pretty little brains out. I never did buy into all the Gable fucking Xanders hype.” His hand reached for his gun, but he froze when something clicked and pressed against his head.

“I don't think so,” said Charles, who had been waiting in the room directly across the hall, pressing his gun harder into Zebb's skull. He took away Zebb's weapon and next to him, Nicky did the same with Uang.

Zebb and Uang glanced at each other, furious at being fooled. They held a silent conversation with their eyes, probably trying to figure out their odds of surviving a fight. But Walker and Zay appeared from the bathroom, their own guns drawn and their faces dropped as they realized they were outnumbered.

Without Pablo, they were just a pair of useless, bumbling jackasses.

Gable smirked.

Zebb gave a resigned sigh. “Oh, fuck.”

+++

Obviously they couldn't take the evil duo back to NYCGD Headquarters or Yarmac & Bogely's, so the team took them to a secluded warehouse owned by one of Terelle's Outcasts just outside the city so they could question them without worry of interruption.

They tied Zebb and Uang to wooden chairs in the middle of the large, dusty space, though the two of them were looking annoyingly smug considering their predicament. Gable knew it was just bravado – it was probably the same way she'd act if she were in their position.

Cadby stood in front of them, just a couple of meters away, staring hard at their aura or. . .energy or. . .whatever the hell it was he could see.

Gable, Ward, Terelle and Charles waited, leaning against the far wall as Cadby tried reading Zebb and Uang's minds for answers. Charles had sent the rest of the Guardians home. His excuse had been that they were exhausted after four days of very little sleep, but it probably had more to do with the way Nicky and Walker had insisted on taunting Zebb and Uang like a pair of unruly children.

Huffing, because his psychic abilities seemed to have failed him for the very first time in his life, Cadby shook his head and joined the others. He ran a hand through his spiky blond hair, his usually cheery face downcast. “They're well trained.
Very
well trained. I can't read their minds at all. They have up some incredible walls.” He was disappointed, yet marveling at the same time. Aside from Sacha, he'd never met a mind he couldn't read. “That, or they've had magical help. Either way, I'm getting nothing from them. You're going to have to get answers the old fashioned way and question them.”

“We
have
questioned them,” Gable commented glumly. “Over and over and over again until I literally had to slap my face just to stop myself from blowing someone's brains out. I blame this punk.” She glared at Charles. “He won't let me hurt them.”

Charles tutted. “That isn't how we Guardians do things. We try to be a little more. . .dignified.”

She folded her arms sullenly. “You make me miss the bad guys. At least they were efficient.”

He ignored her and the two of them pulled up a couple of dusty old stools and sat down in front of Zebb and Uang. The others stayed back.

“Where are the Outcasts?” Gable demanded.

Zebb cocked his head. “Really, Gable? Working with the Guardians? You make me sick.” He eyed Charles. “You really want someone like her working for you? Do you even know the things she's done? I've seen her hurt people in all kinds of wonderful ways. Ways even
I
never imagined.”

Gable's hand twitched as she struggled against reaching for her gun to shoot him in the balls. She'd show him pain in wonderful ways. But she kept still, refusing to give him the reaction he was looking for.

“I know exactly who Gable is. But thank you very much, I'm sure I'll take your words into consideration.” Charles' tone was dry. “Now, I do believe she asked you a question.”

Zebb looked at the pair of them like they were idiots. “You know I'll never talk.” He nodded at Uang with his head, the only part of his body not tied down. “And he can't, even if he would. We'd never talk to a Guardian. Never. You're pathetic and weak, the lot of you. You-”

Gable slapped her hands on her thighs impatiently and stood, heaving a sigh. “Okay, I'm gonna go over there with the more tolerable people because you're super annoying. Also, you smell really bad. It's called a shower, dude.”

“Fuckin' bitch.”

She tossed him the bird over her shoulder as she walked away.

Charles continued to question Zebb for another three frustrating hours. He used every trick in his arsenal but Zebb remained tight lipped.

“I'm getting rather angry with you, Zebb,” Charles told him calmly, though his stormy eyes were raging. “I don't like to be angry; it makes me do irrational things.”

Zebb actually laughed. “What are you gonna do, English? I know all about you Guardians, you have
rules
,” he mocked. “There ain't nothing you can do to me that you'd get away with.”

“Touche.” Charles cleared his throat and stood, smoothing down the front of his dark blue suit and brushing off an imaginary speck of dust. Zebb grinned smugly until Charles nodded over at Gable. “She, however, is not a Guardian.”

“Finally.” Gable pushed off the wall, striding towards them with purpose. She knew Zebb had pushed Charles right to his limit because he patted her on the shoulder and told her to do what she must when she passed him by.

Zebb's smugness slid away like oil as he watched her approach, his eyes wide and finally,
finally
, he showed fear, if only a little. “Touch me and I'll break your damned neck,” he warned her. “I mean it, if you-”

“Shut up.” Without slowing down, she scooped up her abandoned stool and smashed it over the side of his head. The splintered pieces dropped to the floor with a clatter.