Pyros: DarkWorld: Skinwalker 0.5 (Novella) (DarkWorld: Origins Book 1) (2 page)

As if something had exploded where he stood. An explosion large enough to incinerate everything within a twenty-foot radius in the beat of a hummingbird's wing.

Gasping Logan turned his head to look at his mother but dread gripped his stomach with an icy fist. Somehow he already knew what he would see. Maybe he'd felt it in his hand, maybe the skin of his fingers had sensed the strange texture of his mother's fingers.

A scream rose in his throat as his eyes fell on his mother. His beautiful mother. He stared at the ruined face, muscles taut and black as soot. All her hair had been burned off and all
that remained was a grotesque corpse. Logan's hands shook and he pulled away. His body spasmed as he let go of what used to be his mother's hand. Heat rose and fell inside him and he couldn't help but wonder.

Had he just killed his mother?

***

12 Hours Later

Logan lay on the bed staring sightlessly at the slightly marbled ceiling tiles. He didn't move. Didn't want to. His chest rose and fell and every now and then he swallowed. His body doing its work to keep him alive. But right now he wasn't sure he wanted to be alive. He didn't deserve life. Not after what he had just done. To his mother and his father and all those innocent people in the diner.

A few times he'd turned over and pressed his face into the pillow, trying to suffocate the life from his body but they had monitors and machines telling them stuff about him, and they had all come running, speaking kindly and softly, soothing him, telling him it would be okay soon.

But Logan couldn't believe them.

Now he lay there unmoving, his hands trapped within wide leather belts. They didn't hurt but they stopped him from doing what he wanted to do. Right now he couldn't stand the thought of living one more second. Not after seeing what he'd done to his beautiful mother. He lay there and stared and stared until his eyelids grew heavy and sleep took him away to some semblance of peace.

***

Jacinta watched the little boy as he struggled with the horror of the previous night.

Frustrated, she curled her fingers into a fist, glad her emotional reaction was well hidden by the cuff of her jacket. The last thing she needed was for Gunther to accuse her of being emotionally involved. She wanted to laugh. He had no idea how invested she was in the well-being of Logan Westin.

And besides, humans always think of Titans as unemotional, above human feelings. If they only knew.

She shifted from one foot to another, glanced down at her clipboard notes then up again at the two-way mirror that opened onto the boy's room. She'd been watching since he arrived late last night and although almost a day had passed she had no intention of leaving.

At first she'd wanted nothing to do with Gunther's manipulations but in the end the council had convinced her that she had to be there, active in Omega, for the good of the boy. And she had relented. She would do her part to protect him.

And his sister.

Unfortunately she could do nothing to protect him from what would happen over the next few days. And that's what made her furious; the ability to act to prevent more horrors from being visited on the boy. She didn't agree with what Omega had planned for either Logan or his sister, but the council had assured her both children w
ould be observed and protected as best as they could. But they were clear on one thing; they couldn't move on the organization and jeopardize decades of work just for two little kids.

She suppressed a snort. The council knew well enough how important these two children were. They were just too afraid to endanger all the other agents they had planted within both Omega and Sentinel.

The door of the sound-protected room whooshed open and Elias Gunther moved his considerable bulk inside. The man towered over six feet in the air, his bulk more muscle than flab. With his size, square jaw, ice-blue eyes and blond buzz cut, he had the air of an army Sergeant; one who gave no quarter. With that demeanor he oversaw a large number of paranormal teams for Omega, instilling the constant desire in all his recruits to please him at all times. Somewhere inside the iceberg that was Gunther's personality, Jess suspected a little humanity existed. His operatives seemed to only have admiration for him. Not a hint of dislike or fear in the lot.

Three heads lifted from around her, junior officers greeting their
senior with a quick glance and equally quick nod. Gunther's heels tapped the floor as he moved toward her. His bright blue eyes missed little around him and today was no different.

"
Carnarvon," he said giving her the stare. "Planning on resting anytime soon?" He'd already turned to study the boy through the window.

"I am fine, Sir." She kept her responses short, preferring to have as little interaction with Gunt
her as possible. He was an Appereo, having the ability to teleport from place to place at will. A convenient skill for a man in charge of numerous paranormal teams worldwide. But he rarely jumped unless it was an emergency.

Today he concentrated his energies on the Westin child. She glanced at him, then let the silence linger a moment. "Do you have a question Agent
Carnarvon?"

She cleared her throat, keeping up the act of hesitation when in fact she played him like a harp. "I was expecting the girl child as well,
sir."

He turned to her and the light glinted off his square face. She had to tip her head upwards to meet his eyes. "I know you were. There has been a complication."

"Complication, sir?" She prodded gently, probing the edges of his thoughts. What she saw did nothing to calm her racing heart.

"The girl was abducted on the way to this facility. Whoever they were, they were professional, slick, well-trained." He spoke as if he admired the abductors but the emotions that accompanied those words made Jess want to go home and take a long shower.

"Sentinel, sir?" she knew she had to ask. It would look odd if she didn't, especially when Sentinel was their arch-rival.

Gunther grunted. "I'm not sure. Perhaps it was."

"Who else could it be, sir?" Another question she had to ask. Jess gritted her teeth and kept her eyes on his face.

"FBI, maybe. Or one of the outliers;
demons? Immortals?" Gunther shook his head, then released her gaze to continue staring at the boy. "Whoever they were, they knew what they were doing. And that poses a serious threat to our operations. Especially now that they have her."

"But we have the boy." Jess said, pretending ignorance of the value of the little girl.

"And the boy is powerful too." He stared for a long moment at the sleeping child. "But the girl is the one with true value."

"So we will be looking for her?"

"It would be the smart thing to do." He nodded to himself. "We need her. But in the meantime we have him."

"When will his training begin, sir?"

"As soon as Graham is done with him."

"Darcy?" Jess stilled her emotions. The shock of hearing the Eraser's name had almost shown on her face. A good thing Gunther was still staring at the child. Darcy Graham was a Deleo; a
MindMelder and Eraser. She was used only in the most extreme cases.

"Is that wise,
sir?" Jess had to ask. She kept her eyes on the two-way mirror, and traced the edges of Gunther's mind just to be sure he was being truthful. He turned his head to her, watching her contemplatively for a while.

"Perhaps not, but we are
n't left with much of a choice. We must be sure he remains with Omega. We need his complete trust, and the knowledge that he has a sister may be enough for him to leave and go in search of her." He paused, still watching her face. "I understand your concern. A boy as young as he is, still coming into his powers, it's dangerous to play with his mind but it's far better that he not remember her at all. "

"Can we not adjust his memory so he thinks she died in the fire?"

Gunther nodded. "Yes, I would have preferred the simple fix. But, one memory triggers the next and the next. We just can't take that chance. Not with him and especially not with the girl."

"I see
," Jess said softly.

"Are you having doubts, Agent
Carnarvon?"

"No sir." She lifted her chin, testing his mind and finding no suspicion, just a little concern.

"Because if you are then I may well have to transfer you from this case."

"No, sir," she repeated. "You have my full cooperation. I was just a little unsure, that
is all."

"Very well. It's good to double check things."
Not good to question your superior's commands.
Jess had to steel herself against flinching at his thoughts. She could not let on that she second-guessed him all the time because that was her job. "I suggest you take a break now. I want you to stay with the boy until Graham has completed the wipe."

She gave him a short nod then made a few notes on her clipboard. She was saved from further pretense as Gunther turned his bulk to the doorway and left without another word.

Jess glanced at the agent who sat to her left, staring at the enormous monitor that showed the boy's vitals. "John, I'm heading home for a bit. Can you ring me when Graham arrives?" John dragged his eyes away from the monitor only long enough to give her a quick nod.

Satisfied that was all the response she would get, Jess placed her clipboard on the table by the door and left the room. Outside
, the hallway was empty. Despite the cameras that watched, Jess disappeared. Omega knew what she was. Even if the regular agents didn't, her superiors knew she was a Titan; a level two Immortal, one rung below a god, and one above a mere Immortal.

Jess snorted a
t the simplistic little boxes humans used.

***

The room was silent except for the hum of machinery and the occasional sigh of breath as the boy inhaled and exhaled.

Darcy Graham's brow furrowed as she studied the printouts that spewed from the machine. Electrodes dotted the little boy's forehead, feeding brain activity data to her machine. She'd spent the last few months developing this technology, using both Omega's and Sentinel's intelligence to perfect it. Now, her machine was capable of sensing the slightest change in brain activity while she did an Erase.

She supposed it was a good thing she dabbled in programming on the side. A machine like this was priceless when deep inside a wipe. She could track vital
signs and brain activity, know when to wait and when it was safe to proceed deeper. She'd certainly be able to operate with added confidence now that her little project had become a reality.

Darcy patted the small metal box and sighed as she rolled her chair back to the kid's bedside. Little Logan Westin. Another little pawn in the game of the DarkWorld.

Sometimes she hated her job. Today being no exception. She stared at the boy – glossy black hair, straight patrician nose, high cheekbones. This one's going to break a few hearts. She quashed a smile and rubbed her palms on her thighs, hoping the light sheen of nervous perspiration wouldn’t streak the fine linen of her suit pants.

She glanced up at Agent
Carnarvon who'd arrived only seconds after Darcy herself had entered Logan's room. Carnarvon had a reputation for silence, and even though she was dressed in exactly the same fashion as Darcy, her matching linen jacket and pants seemed strangely free from creases, her white shirt surely whiter than was possible. The steely blonde's face remained expressionless and it irked Darcy. She'd once tried to touch the agent's mind and been repelled so fast she'd felt bile rise in her throat. Carnarvon’s wards were too strong for Darcy and she'd learned her lesson and never attempted it again. For now she had to just put up with what seemed to be an unfeeling agent watching over the cruelty she was about to perform.

Without looking up she said, "You might want to grab a seat. This is going to take a while." She grabbed a rubber band from her hip pocket, caught her white blond hair and tied it neatly at the base of her neck Then she adjusted the height of the seat until she was level with the bed, making it easy for her to reach him. Then she slipped her hands beneath his tiny body and tugged him closer so his shoulder was snug against her knee. Ready to begin she glanced up, and was satisfied to see that
Carnarvon had pulled up a chair and sat near the foot of the bed opposite Darcy. She was there to observe.

Gunther had dropped that bombshell when Darcy had arrived. Usually she was allowed to work without supervision but something must have gotten Omega's panties in a knot. She'd shrugged at the news. It didn't bother her really. Besides, she had nothing to hide.

Well, not today at least.

Darcy swallowed a smile and shook out her fingers. When she placed them at each of the boy's temples she felt the usual zap as the energy from his brain found the conduit that was her fingers, and sped through into her mind. Her own mind was well
protected. Sealed off from the brain activity of her subject. She concentrated and corralled the energy, walking it back into the mind of the boy.