Wild Sky 2 (2 page)

I squinted as we edged closer to the abandoned snack kiosk, as if somehow that would make it possible for me to see inside the building without actually
being
inside.

But while I could literally smell trouble, X-ray vision wasn’t on my superpower résumé. And the visions-comma-psychic I was sometimes able to have were still about as reliable as the phone and Internet service these days—which meant they were seriously hit-or-miss. And, to make everything ten trillion times worse, I have even
more
trouble capturing important visions when I’m stressed out or scared.

Like right now. When, for all I knew, my perfect, wonderful, amazing boyfriend was in mortal danger.

Stress level on a scale of one to ten? Yeah. It was hovering between thirty-seven and thirty-eight, with occasional spikes of five million.

Dana, on the other hand?
She
had some G-T powers that could help us out. “How many people inside?” I hissed, my super-quiet whisper not quite as super-quiet as hers.

As a seasoned Greater-Than, Dana had excellent control over her unique powers—one of which was an ability to sense all of the living beings around her, both visible and hidden. Most of the time, if she focused hard enough, Dana could tell me the number and proximity of the rats in the nearby palm trees. Or of the number of bad guys in a makeshift Destiny farm. It wasn’t X-ray vision, but it was pretty close.

This particular talent of Dana’s had helped us out a
lot
, back when we rescued little Sasha from an Alabama Destiny farm. It wasn’t foolproof, of course. There were times when Dana couldn’t access her power. Like me with my fledgling psychic visions, her ability ebbed and flowed, with no clear rhyme or reason. But right now I wanted at least an
idea
about what we were fighting here… Were two bad guys holding Milo prisoner in that kiosk? Or twenty? I looked to Dana, hoping for the answer.

But she shook her head and grabbed at her temples. “I can’t—” she started.

“Yes! You can.
Try!
”

“Trying.” Dana shook her head. “No go.”

I opened my own eyes wide and threw my palms up in the air, staring at her like maybe if I looked pissed enough she’d snap out of it and make things happen. But Dana’s eyes were narrowed and intense as she nodded past me at the building that squatted in the darkness. Taking one hand, she nudged me against the side of the nearest banyan tree. It was the last large object keeping us hidden before we reached the clearing surrounding the kiosk.

It was kind of obvious that Dana wanted me to suggest a game plan.

I shrugged again, exhaling in exasperation. I didn’t know. How was
I
supposed to know what to do? Dana was always the one with the plan.

But I didn’t care anymore. Milo’s presence here was drawing me like a magnet, and, for all I knew, he had mere moments left to live.

Dana was watching me, waiting impatiently, so I used both my pointer fingers and waved them in opposite-moving circles, to signal that Dana head to the left and me to the right. We’d check for other entrances or windows, and meet up around the other side.

It was all I had to work with. I didn’t know what else we could do.

For a second, I thought about channeling my water-based telekinesis and overflowing the toilets inside—maybe that would make whoever was in there come running out. I could
definitely
do that, providing there was water in the long-abandoned pipes.

But it seemed like a ridiculous, stupid plan compared to actually going inside.

I didn’t tell Dana this because I knew she’d think it was too dangerous and try to talk me out of it, but once she turned that corner, I was planning to say
eff it
and run right through the men’s room doorway. Because I didn’t care who—or what—was waiting in there anymore. All I cared about was finding Milo.

Dana looked unhappy, but she nodded, and together we backed away from the banyan tree. Her movement was still silent, but I immediately stepped on a branch. The crack underneath my sneaker might as well have been a gong, and I winced.

Dana glared at me but kept moving to the side of the building with the awning. I took several more baby steps, keeping my pace excruciatingly slow as I pretended to angle right.

Once Dana rounded the corner and could no longer see me, I stopped crawling and started sprinting, moving like lightning toward the doorway that was now directly in front of me.

Milo. Milo.
Milo.

“
Freeze or I’ll shoot you, your boyfriend, and your little dog, too!
” The distorted voice rang out—deep and authoritative, but computerized with a metallic filter. Whoever had spoken was about eight feet to the right of me.

Harmless.

It was more of a feeling than a thought, and it came to me immediately, even before I stopped and sharply turned, twisting my neck so fast that nerves shot painfully down my spine.

Shadowy shape—low, almost square, and solid.

Nope, not a threat.

All those hours of training paid off as I moved instinctively into a defensive crouch, even as I strained to see more clearly in the darkness.

Black male. Seated. Five foot eleven, one hundred sixty-four pounds. Definitely not a threat.

“Calvin?” I called out, my voice clear as a bell in the darkness.

The figure inched forward—or, I should say,
wheeled
forward—out of the shadows.

It was definitely Calvin.

“
Order me to blast him with my power!
” And
that
was Dana, rocketing herself around the corner of the building with the intensity of a SWAT team member, minus the whole humongous-gun-and-Kevlar-vest thing.

“What?”
Order
her…? And double-what because… “No, Dana, it’s Cal,” I told her. “It’s”—I searched for the words—“
robot
Cal.”

My best friend, Calvin, was wearing a ridiculous-looking padded jacket, along with a helmet that seriously resembled something Darth Vader might rock on a fashion-flunk day. His legs, bent and resting against the sides of the wheelchair, were covered in what looked to be oversized steel pants, of all things. And even though I couldn’t see Cal’s face, thanks to his helmet, I knew he was grinning inside that absurd costume.

I realized at that moment that if Cal was here and safe…

“That is
not
Cal!” Dana insisted as she continued barreling toward us. “That is an
evil, terrible monster
!”

I ignored her, because if
Cal
was safe… “Cal! Where’s Milo? Did you already find him?” I asked, but then refused to wait another moment for an explanation. I turned and again charged toward the doorway of the snack kiosk men’s room—

—and crashed directly into my perfect, wonderful, and very-much-alive-and-safe and
smiling
boyfriend.

Why was he
smiling
?

Oh my Lord you’re okay you’re all right oh Milo Milo Milo…

As soon as we collided, my super-special Greater-Than telepathy-with-Milo-and-only-Milo clicked on, and I felt my thoughts echoing in Milo’s mind.

He’d turned the collision into a bear hug, and as he wrapped his arms around me, I felt his confusion.
Skylar, of course I’m all right. What did Dana tell you?

I wrenched myself from the embrace to turn and glare at Dana, even as I instantly understood. This was a
training exercise
?

“Are you
kidding me
?” I said.

Dana ignored me as she stomped around and muttered choice words that started with
F
and ended in
-ing
.

Calvin removed his helmet. And yes. He was grinning, although his smile started to fade when he saw the thunderous expression on my face.

“Fail!
Fail
, Sky! This was
not
good!” Dana paced furiously back and forth in her bare feet as she plunged her hands through her short blond hair and glared back at me.

“
Excuse
me?” I exclaimed. “Not
good
? You got
that
right! This was not good at
all
!”

I sensed Milo directly behind me as he chimed in. “You didn’t tell her this wasn’t real?” he asked Dana. His voice was low, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t angry. The more upset Milo was, the quieter he got.

I, however, got louder. “This was really just a
game
…?”

“Of course I didn’t tell her. Why would I tell her?” Dana answered Milo before she stopped pacing and planted herself directly in front of me. “This was no game, Princess. This was a test. A pop quiz.”

I could feel my jaw drop. “A
pop quiz
?”

“And you flunked,” Dana declared. “Miserably.”

Calvin started giggling into his steel-encrusted sleeve. He always giggled when he was nervous or uncomfortable, so I forgave him.

Dana, however, was a different story. She’d gotten me out of bed with the heart-stopping news that Milo was in grave danger—to give me some kind of twisted test?

“First off”—she was still barking at me—“you didn’t acknowledge your weaknesses. This was a potentially highly dangerous situation, and you know damn well you suck at stealth. And you also know that
I’m
just as capable of being stealthy as you are
not
. Yet your
master plan
had us
both
circling the building. What you
should
have done was assign the task of perimeter sneak-and-peek to
me
, while
you
stayed put, which is your best shot at staying silent—although that’s questionable, too. Instead, by crashing through the brush the way you did, you put us all in harm’s way. Lover-Boy included!” Dana jabbed at the air in Milo’s direction.

Milo opened his mouth as if to speak.

“
Then
you didn’t even stick to your shitty plan,” she continued, cutting him off before he even began. “Once you went all Rambo by making a run for it like you did—which I could hear, even from around the corner, P-effing-S: you basically turned yourself into a giant target. No, not
a
target,
the
target!
You’re
the target, Bubble Gum!

“That is a truth that you must never, ever forget! If and when some nasty-ass em-effers grab Milo or Calvin or your mother or the sweet little old lady who lives next door…? They’re doing it to
get to you
! So what did you just do here? You put a freaking bow on your head and gave yourself to them on a silver platter, special delivery!”

“You’re, um, mixing your metaphors,” Calvin pointed out.

“You not only didn’t stop to think about the bad guys’ motives or goals”—Dana ignored him as she continued to skewer me—“but you also didn’t take that butt-ugly truth a logical step further. Because if you
had
, you would’ve realized that if and when someone grabs Milo in order to get to you, once they have you, they’re not gonna just let him go, like
thanks for your help, bro, here’s money for a cab
. No! Once they get you, he’s dead. So congratulations, you just killed Milo!”

She was right. To some degree. But I had to blink hard to keep my tears from escaping. I was still
that
angry that she’d let me believe that Milo was really in peril.

And I might’ve muttered an apology for failing her little late-night class in Abducted Boyfriend Rescue 101, if she hadn’t piled on and continued her rant about everything I’d done wrong.

“And what the hell was that with Calvin anyway?” Dana huffed at me. “You just stop in the middle of a clearing”—she gestured to the open space we were standing in, between the kiosk and the jungle—“and have a
conversation
with someone who potentially wants to knock you unconscious, throw you in the trunk of their car, and take you to a Destiny farm where they’ll bleed you dry?”

“I wasn’t—” I started.

“He says
freeze
and you freeze?” Dana asked. “What were you thinking?
Why
were you thinking? You should’ve at least
tried
to blast him with your telekinesis before you even turned around!”

At this, I exploded. “That’s
bullshit
!” I exclaimed, the foul word exiting my mouth like a glob of poison. “And you know it! I
knew
it was Cal!”

“His voice was disguised,” she argued.

“I knew it was him,” I insisted. “And yes, his being here made me a little confused, but—”

“All the more reason to send out a mental shock wave,” Dana insisted. “I mean, yes, considering your limitations, it probably wouldn’t’ve worked—”

“You seriously are on my case because I didn’t hammer my
best friend
with a big ol’ telekinetic left hook to the balls?” I laughed humorlessly, because last time I’d checked, Dana had been adamant about not letting me use my extremely limited water-based TK to try to move people—not even in a no-stress training session, let alone one like this. Although as I looked at Cal, I realized his robot suit wasn’t just for visual effect.

He knew what I was thinking and tapped on his chest. The sound he made was similar to that of a drum kit’s hi-hat. “Pretty sure this technology makes me Skylar-proof. Not only did we crash-test both the suit and the chair, but we’re pretty sure
you
can’t move me because you can’t access the fluids in my body. The metal shields me. Neat-o, huh? The suit’s just a loaner—we’ve got to give it back—”

“As in, we need to return the stolen goods?” I interpreted.

“Semantics,” Dana said dismissively as I shook my head.

“It’s not the easiest thing to move around in,” Cal continued, “and I gotta admit it’s toasty warm in here, but…” He shrugged as he glanced over at Dana. “Hot blond chicks can talk me into things.”

That
pissed me off even more. “Dana! Seriously! Did you mind-control Calvin into doing this?”