beats per minute (29 page)

‘Relax! I’m just being wicked. No booze for you on my watch.
Stick to your fizzy pop, darling.’ Bree lofted the tray above her head like a
waitress, balancing it lightly on her fingertips. ‘Let’s find the others.’

Watching Bree weave through the crowd was pretty amazing.
She balanced the tray as skilfully as a circus acrobat: not a tremble troubled
the brimming glasses held high in the air. Raegan wasn’t quite as graceful but
it was still easier to keep up than it would have been a month ago at Mojo’s.
Back then she’d felt like a baby elephant, cannoning off people at random; now
she glided, deftly side-stepping drunken stumbles or wildly embracing couples
without breaking her stride.  She felt good. Separate.

It was the same for all of them. Little things gave them
away; like when Warwick, irritated with their wobbly table, crouched down on
the floor and then lifted the heavy object into the air with one hand; or how
when a waiter stumbled into the group with his tray, Tyrell caught the full
wine bottle and glasses without breaking a sweat; or how when a sleazeball made
a lunge for Adriana’s rear she stopped his hand mid-movement without even
turning around.

Normal people would probably laugh it off; maybe even come
up with some plausible explanation for these strange feats, if they could be
bothered. But Raegan knew the truth. Looking around the room, she remembered
how relieved she’d felt to be here: escaping from the pressure-cooker of the
Unit, returning to the familiar, joining in on the Friday night blowing off of
steam.  Except that she could never really join in again. She was no
longer one of them.

The realisation was amazing. Not to mention terrifying.

‘Penny for them,’ a voice said,
raised
over the loud music. Sam. Her stomach flipped.

He grinned down at her, pulling her close to his chest. His
t-shirt was damp with sweat. She tried to ignore the slight sogginess.

‘I was just thinking how strange it is,’ she began, but the
music was at fever pitch now. He leaned in so quickly they nearly knocked
heads.

 ‘Sorry, what did you say?’

‘I said, I was just thinking how strange it is.’ Shouting to
make herself heard, she immediately regretted starting with such a heavy topic.
‘You know, being among all these people again, them not knowing about us, what
we do...’

The vacant expression on Sam’s face didn’t change. ‘I can’t
hear you very well,’ he yelled, right into her ear, which vibrated painfully as
a result. ‘D’you
want
another drink?’

She nodded, but before she could tell him what he wanted, he
wandered off. He was not entirely steady on his feet.

‘He’s drunk.’

Declan’s voice was cool with barely-concealed disgust. She
hadn’t even seen him.

‘Not exactly the stuff of fairytales, is it? The entire
brigade crashes your date and by the time you arrive he’s already half-cut.’

The bar stool was wobbly and too high for the table, meaning
that Declan had to bend his body double to talk to her. With just a quick shove
she could make him fall flat on his face, she thought viciously. No-one could
blame her.

 'Get lost.’

‘No thanks. I’m enjoying the view.’ He raised his beer in
the direction of the dance-floor, where Bree and Adriana were dancing together,
surrounded by drooling men. ‘You feel free to go whenever you want, though. And
take that jerk with you.
If you can find him.’

Like a balloon deflating, Raegan watched the two girls for a
moment. They looked so happy.

‘You don’t want me here,
that’s
no
shock. You’ve never liked me.’ Her voice felt tight in her throat. ‘But what is
it with you and Sam? I’ve never seen him be anything but nice to you. But you
act like a complete twat.
Every time.
I don’t get it.’

The ‘twat’ comment seemed to go right over Declan’s head.
Instead, he looked at her with genuine surprise. ‘I don’t dislike you.’

Raegan exhaled sharply, torn between laughter and violence.
Was he for real? She settled for pressing her fingertips to her sides, hard. It
would bruise. ‘You’re joking, yeah? Maybe I’m missing something - because I’m
not laughing. I’m just sick and tired of it. Yeah, you heard me. I am sick to
death of you treating me like shit!’

He tapped the bottle against his lip, as if debating
something with himself. Finally he looked away. ‘You made the wrong choice,
that’s all.’

‘Choice?’
If the music hadn’t been
so loud the word would have been deafening. ‘What choice? Look, I’ve had enough
of this. What the hell are you talking about?’

‘Take a chill pill,’ he said, maddeningly calm. ‘You’re
making way too big a deal about this. I don’t like the guy, that’s all. I don’t
have to explain myself to you.’

Her chest was choked with anger. Thoughts of Sam at the bar
were long forgotten. All she could think was how unfair it was. What was wrong
with this guy? Ruining her time at the Unit wasn’t enough for him – now he
wanted to ruin her night out, too? She forced herself to take a deep breath.

‘Fine.
You don’t dislike me. No,
it’s just him you don’t like. But you were completely foul to me just then, for
no reason.’ Raegan fought to keep the wobble out of her voice. ‘So were you an
arsehole because I came here to meet Sam? Or would you have been an arsehole
anyway?’

She was totally unprepared for his reaction. He stood up so
fast that he nearly knocked the chair over.

‘You think I’m jealous? You think that’s what this is
about?’

‘N-no,’ Raegan stuttered, taking a step backwards, crossing
her arms protectively over her chest. ‘I didn’t say that-‘

‘Get over yourself, sweetheart.’ The venom in his voice made
her flinch.

Warwick chose that moment to interrupt, apparently oblivious
to the tension flaring thickly in the air. He placed a massive paw on each of
their shoulders. Drawing them in, he appeared to be totally unaware that every
fibre in each of their bodies was committed to straining away from the other,
like two magnets in repulsion.

‘Here’s
my two favourite cadets,’
he boomed happily. ‘Isn’t this place great? I’m stoked we could finally bring
you, Raegan.’

Raegan made as enthusiastic a noise as she could, not daring
to look at Declan.

‘Dec!
You’ve been on that same beer
since we got here! Let me get you another.’

‘It’s okay,’ Declan muttered. ‘I’m not really in the mood.’

‘Good man.’ Warwick thumped his back. ‘You can keep me
company. I’m not drinking tonight; someone’s gotta be responsible, after all!’
His eyes drifted to Bree, who had a drink in each hand and was still dancing -
if you could call it that. In fact, she was barely moving at all, twitching her
hips slightly every so often and raising her arms in the air, apparently lost
in the rhythm. His jaw tightened.

Raegan looked at him closely, forgetting her own problems
for a minute. ‘Why don’t you dance with her? We can take care of ourselves.’

‘What?’ He seemed to remember where he was, and grabbing
Declan’s beer, took a long pull. The muscles in his neck were taut and strained
as he drank.
‘Naw!
She’s got my sister to chaperone
her. Adriana can easily see off any guy – or girl - who gets too close.’

‘That’s not what I meant,’ she said softly.

Warwick’s brown eyes met hers. A bead of communication,
unspoken, passed between them. ‘I know.’

They stood awkwardly in their huddle. Without warning, the
music stopped. The DJ scratched his head, but the crowd was not in a merciful
mood: a huge cry went up, loud and frustrated, as they hollered impatiently for
the music to come back on.

‘I wish it wouldn’t,’ Declan mumbled. ‘Not if the DJ is
going to play that junk again.’

‘I’m kind of enjoying the peace, too,’ Warwick laughed. ‘I
guess I must be getting old!’ Noticing Raegan’s glass, now down to the last few
dregs, he sprung into action. ‘Raegan, I’m sorry, I should have offered before!
What can I get you?’

‘No worries.’ Raegan forced a smile. ‘Sam’s already on the
case.’

Warwick cast his eyes around doubtfully.
‘Really?
I thought I saw him settle in with his Skipper pals a second ago.’

Gutted to have been so easily forgotten, particularly when
she had been sticking up for him, Raegan looked at the floor.

‘He probably just got sidetracked,’ Warwick added kindly,
noticing her dejection. ‘Want me to go and round him up?’

She shook her head.

‘Sure? It’s a crime to neglect a lady where I come from.
Punishable by death.’
The graveness of his tone made her
giggle in spite of herself. He grinned too, before continuing, ‘And I’d be
happy to-‘

But what Warwick was about to say next they would never
know.

She was aware of
a sudden
stiffening in his posture. Like a wolf scenting blood, he raised his head,
nostrils flared. At the same time, the lights all around began to flicker
erratically. A faint buzzing sound – like feedback from a microphone – could be
heard.

‘They’re here,’ he said quietly.

The bar was plunged into a pitch-blackness that was almost
suffocating; filling mouth, nose and ears. As if the turntable was stuck, a
jarring, leaping thud of electronica played, looping over and over, adding to
the sense of surreal. A combination of worried murmuring and raucous laughter
from those who continued with their revels filled the air. Over it – or perhaps
through it – the odd, faint sound of a scream could be heard.

But there were few in the room who were really listening for
it.

Before the lights went out, Warwick turned immediately
toward the dance floor. Raegan assumed he was searching for Bree, but his
restless eyes slid over her, stopping with relief when he found Adriana.

The Fay.
Raegan
didn’t need Declan to tell her; she had felt it, almost before Warwick spoke.
Like oil oozing into water, something thick, dark, and tar-like was pressing
down on her, and had been creeping into her stomach for some time.

She might have noticed before if she had not been so
preoccupied. Once again, like in St Jude’s, she had been caught off guard.

‘How many?’
Declan whispered.

Adriana and Warwick did not break eye-contact with the
merest blink. Bree, face filled with a fierce intensity Raegan had never seen,
whispered something in her girlfriend’s ear before melting into the crowd.

‘Six at least,’ Warwick’s reply was low and urgent. If it
weren’t impossible, Raegan would’ve sworn that Warwick was somehow passing on
what Bree had just told Adriana.
As if from across the room
something wordless had passed between the siblings.
She shivered.

‘There’s never been a sniff of the Other in Carrigaline
before,’ he continued grimly. ‘They planned this, somehow.
..’

‘But they’ve been in Crosshaven,’ Declan burst out, suddenly
agitated.
‘The other night.
We should have told
someone. I
knew
it-’

The flash of warning in Warwick’s eyes silenced him.
Instantly the elder cadet shot an uneasy look at Raegan, but she did not
notice. Her attention was directed elsewhere.

‘Sam,’ she murmured, scanning the crowd. ‘Where are you?’

‘He can take care of himself,’ Declan snapped, turning away
from Warwick. ‘If he hadn’t been showing off with his Skipper buddies all night
– that stupid traversing trick where he
disappears
the
coin – the Fay probably wouldn’t have spotted us.’

Even in the middle of an attack Declan could not help
pointing the finger.

‘We all drew attention to ourselves.’

The gravity in Warwick’s reminder sent a jolt through
Raegan. She remembered Warwick with the table; Tyrell, with the glasses;
Adriana, with the wandering hand. She had been amazed that no-one else noticed
their Otherness; that no-one else picked up on the signs that were obviously
there. Now she realised that her concern was utterly misplaced. She should have
been thankful that their presence was undetected.

Except it wasn’t.

They had given themselves away.

That was when the lights failed. There was an initial eruption
of noise and then Warwick was grabbing them both, bending his bulk down, eyes
shining in the darkness. ‘You have to get her out of here,’ he urged hoarsely,
looking from Declan to Raegan. ‘You know the rules. Our first duty is to these
people.’

‘We can fight,’ Declan insisted.

‘No!’ Warwick’s arm tightened painfully on their shoulders.
‘You aren’t ready. But we can’t come with you. The others are already taking up
their positions. You have to protect each other. Traverse, take the boat, and
go. We’ll catch you up.’

‘But why-
‘ Raegan
struggled against
a tidal wave of panic. ‘If the Fay
are
looking for us,
if they planned this, then aren’t you giving them what they want, staying
here?’

‘That won’t stop them!’ Warwick looked over his shoulder,
speaking faster and faster. ‘Even if they haven’t come here to feed, it’s a
game to them. They’ll cut down whoever gets in their way. The more bodies
that pile
up, the better.’

The sweet cider apples were rising in her throat, clawing at
her innards.

‘Go!’ Out of the corner of her eye Raegan thought she saw a
blur of motion hurtling toward them. Warwick pushed them both, hard, sending
them stumbling toward the exit, as a roaring sound cut through the air. His
skin seemed to vibrate for a moment, then he disappeared – vanished, right
before their eyes; it was too fast for her to be sure, but Raegan thought she
could make out a dark figure slamming into him as he did.

The roaring noise grew louder; Declan was yelling at her,
but she couldn’t hear him over the sound. She made out the words ‘traverse’.

Raegan was petrified. This was nothing like Liana’s studio.
She couldn’t do it.

And then she felt his hand gripping hers, tightly. In the
darkness she found his face. Even amongst the pandemonium, the cool green eyes
were unruffled: a calm tide lapping on the heated shore.

Something strengthened inside her; like an iron bolt sliding
into a lock, she found control. Bearing down, ignoring the rushing wind and
frantically moving bodies around her as they bundled toward the exit, she
anchored herself in the green depths. Within them she found a much-needed
stillness.

Her heart slowed; she felt the power crackling over her
skin; she could hear the ticking of the clock. She was zoning. Down, down went
the beat. The space around her grew calmer. Lighter, almost.

They started to move. They couldn’t afford to waste time by
trying to lock-in but they were more or less in the same time plane anyway,
having slowed their hearts down to their maximum – which, due to their relative
inexperience, was at about the same point.

Declan quickly broke away. Ducking and diving, he forged a
path for her through the mass of bodies halted in mid-charge toward the door.
It was like an awful maze of almost motionless flesh, suspended in a time plane
separate from their own, looming up at her like so many tombstones. She didn’t
have time to think about the bizarreness of the sight, or take in the scared
expressions on the frozen faces of the people as she whirled past. Civilians
might be oblivious at times but they were not stupid; by now, the danger had
increased from a mere breath, a puff on the wind, to something tangible. Though
they would not understand it, they would surely feel it.

Raegan tried to stay alert. Her senses might be frazzled but
they were still there; she tried to listen to her instincts, to stay prepared
for any incoming danger. She tried not to think of the Regents they were
leaving behind.

They made it out of the back entrance unhindered, into an
exterior doorway looking out onto the alleyway. It was large but sheltered with
a good vantage point. As far as makeshift hiding places went, it wasn’t bad.
Backs flat against either wall, they waited – though what they were waiting for
was unclear. Some movement to signal that venturing into the alleyway would be
unsafe, maybe.
Or the welcoming stillness of safety.

No Fay or Regent could remain in another time plane
indefinitely, however, as much as they might like to. Exhausted, the two new
cadets were soon forced to return to common time. But they wouldn’t be able to
recuperate for long. It left them too exposed to attack. Raegan, despite her
shelter inside the doorway, felt more vulnerable than ever.

A loud crash sounded from within. They both froze,
listening.

‘The door is blocked off,’ Declan said after a moment. His
voice was muted but remarkably steady.

‘How do you know?’

‘We’re back in common time but everyone else is still
inside. They must be trapped. We were lucky to get out when we did. Our guys
would have tried to get the civilians out first before engaging in a brawl. I
guess the Fay didn’t like that plan, so they closed off the escape routes,
herding the civilians like horses into a corral.
Forcing us
into a fight.

‘It makes things more exciting for those sons of bitches to
have bodies to hide behind.
A quivering mass of fear to pick
off.
They get off on it.’

He glanced out into the dim light of the alley. ‘At least
that means we probably haven’t been followed – but we need to keep moving.’

There was nothing Raegan wanted to do less than go out into
the night. Some childish, irrational hope leaped inside her, telling her that
everything would be all right if she only stayed put, here, safe in the
hidey-hole.

But Declan was already moving. Crouching slightly, he leaned
out carefully, scanning the alleyway. Grabbing helplessly for his jacket, she
made an involuntary sound of distress. ‘No- we can’t. That noise! What if-‘

He turned back to her, steadying her, but his face swam
before her eyes. Panicked, she reached for him, but her body didn’t respond. He
was gripping her shoulders now, mouthing words frantically. She couldn’t hear
him. She couldn’t see-

Raegan.

A flash of light.

Raegan.
Can you hear me?

‘Yes.’

‘Raegan, what are you talking about? We need to go-‘

You’re not safe.

The second voice was female, and inside her head, she
realised; amplified hugely, it bounced around her skull. How could that be?

Declan’s face loomed fuzzily, closer and closer. It was like
watching through a fishtank; wavy, hazy, not quite there.

And then the green eyes were replaced by two wide, strange,
orbs.
So dark and deep they were almost black.

You need to keep going. You’re too precious to lose here.

Sukey’s eyes.

But the voice was calm; it sounded like Sukey, but not like
Sukey. It was entirely coherent.

Please be careful. You’re the reason why they are here.

‘Me?’

‘Raegan,
please-‘

Your gift.
They must not
know that you have it. You must keep it secret.
Safe.

‘Wait-‘

But she was gone. Almost as soon as the overwhelming
pressure had arrived in her head – like tiny fingers, wiggling around inside
her brain – it seemed to disappear.

Declan was shaking her like a rat.

‘Ouch!’ She pushed him away, and then stumbled with the
effort, crashing into the wall. Her legs were suddenly made of jelly. ‘What the
hell are you doing?’

‘Trying to get you to come to your senses.
We’re in the middle of a life or death situation here! If your little
performance was an attempt to force me back inside, that was a pretty shitty
trick.’

‘Trick?’
Raegan raised a hand to her
pounding head. ‘I had no control over that! Something took me over! It was
like... I don’t
know,
a vision or something.’

‘Sure,’ he snorted derisively.

‘It’s true!’ With a sickening sensation, it dawned on her:
Sukey had been trying to tell her that the Fay
were
searching for the Trace. Declan might be in as much danger as Raegan.

She couldn’t let him get to her. She had to warn him.

He was still with concentration. She recognised the signs:
the tiny fluttering, like the air was vibrating around him. He was zoning,
ready to make another break for the open. She had no choice but to follow him,
so she slowed her heart down; but once they were both at their maximum points
of traverse, she lunged for him, pulling him back further into the doorway.
‘Wait!’

‘It’s not safe.’ He tried to extricate himself. ‘We need to
go.’

‘Please, just listen to me-‘

‘No!’

‘It’s about what happened last night! When you saw Ingmar’s
wound, how it was... I can do it too! That’s why the Fay
are
here, they found us, somehow. My vision told me that they’re after us, because
of our abilities – we can’t let them know!’

She was gabbling, desperate to make him understand. He
looked at her with suspicion.

‘You... you can’t know that.’

‘But I do! And- don’t you see, that’s why we can’t just
leave! We can’t leave everyone fighting on our behalf!’

‘What are you talking
about!
We’d
be playing right into their hands!’

She shook her head. ‘I can’t. I can’t let Bree or... anyone
get hurt, knowing that it was my fault.’

Declan’s face tightened with fury; an anger so fierce and
sudden that it scared her. ‘Oh, who cares about
them!
It’s our powers that matter – like you said. Forget the others. We need to save
our own skins. Don’t be a fool!’

She stared into his face with disgust. ‘I’d rather be a fool
than a coward.’ She turned around, but he was too quick for her: in one swift
movement he had insinuated himself between her and the door.

‘Move.’

He didn’t.

Anger rising, she launched herself forward, shoving him
hard. He fell against the door with a clanging force.

‘I’m still not going to let you past,’ he gasped, winded
from his fall. Curtains of dark hair flopped in front of his eyes, which were
pleading. ‘You’ll have to kill me first. I promised Warwick I’d get you away
from here.’

She could feel the Fay growing in strength with every
moment; like a black fog, they clouded her senses. The level of noise from
inside escalated with each moment that passed. She shook her head.

‘Then I’ll find another way in. You look after yourself,
Declan. I guess that’s what you do best.’

She wanted to scream at him not to be so selfish. She wanted
to hit him until her hands bled. But there was no more time to waste on Declan
Kane. She had to act.

No-one else would die because of her.