Edgewood Series: Books 1 - 3 (92 page)

Carly had a lot to say on that subject, but she knew enough not to argue. I did hear her muttering to Rosie and Dr. Anton about it as they headed down the hall to check out what Rosie called, “their new digs.”

I’d just started looking around when I heard a loud thumping on my door, accompanied by the sound of a girl’s voice. I opened it to find Jameson and Mallory out in the hallway. Jameson pushed past me and came right in with Mallory on his heels.

Right away I asked the question that had been nagging me. “Did you give the comic book to the Praetorian Guard guy?”

“Of course,” Mallory said. “I told you I’d take care of it, didn’t I? Have I ever let you down before?”

“Did you emphasize how important it was and tell him about how Mr. Specter could see the future?”

“All that and more, so you don’t have to give it another thought.”

“And they said they’d amp up security so none of that would happen?”

“Yes, they’ll amp up security so none of that will happen.” Mallory patted my arm and walked past me, stopping in the center of the room. “Can you believe this place?” She raised her arms above her head and gracefully did an impromptu pirouette. When we’d had our dance lessons with Prima Donna she’d mentioned she’d had ballet lessons as a little girl. I could see her in a tutu at age ten, front and center at a recital. “We’re like celebrities.”

“I won’t lie,” Jameson said, giving me a jab. “I’m not going to miss sharing a room with you, Russ. Your snoring made me crazy.”

I knew I didn’t snore because if I did, my nephew would have mentioned it ages ago. Frank had been sleeping over since he was a little kid and I can’t tell you how many times he’d come into my room to wake me up during thunderstorms or after a bad dream. And believe me, Frank Shrapnel Becker was not a kid to hold back from saying something just to be nice. No. I didn’t snore, or I definitely would have heard about it. Before I got a chance to say as much though, Mallory crossed the room and opened the doors of a large wardrobe. “Did you check out your formal clothes for the Bash? I have four different dresses to pick from, while all your suits look about the same,” Mallory said, stepping back to reveal several tuxedos and white shirts hanging within. “You guys are going to look like James Bond.”

Jameson said, “I’ll be Jameson Bond, his good-looking nephew. Russ can be my manservant.” He snapped his fingers and switched to a British accent. “Russell, I need you to lay out my clothing. And then, mix me a martini, shaken not stirred.”

I peered into the wardrobe and rifled through the hanging suits. “Wow. I didn’t even know that stuff was in there,” I said. “We just got back from the hospital.”

“How’s that going?” Mallory asked, as if just remembering. “Is President Bernstein healed now?”

Even Jameson seemed interested in hearing how the president was doing, so I gave them the lowdown, telling them first about the annoying doctor and my meeting with David Hofstetter afterward.

“David’s going to be at the Bash?” Jameson said. “Doing what?” His tone implied that we had things covered at the Bash and wouldn’t need any extra help.

“He’ll be doing the same thing we are—protecting the president and Layla.”

“Assuming the president is well enough to go,” Jameson said.

“She’ll be there,” I said, with far more confidence than I felt. “Believe me, she’s almost there now.” For someone who wasn’t that great at lying, I managed to really bring it when goaded by Jameson. I sincerely hoped the president would make it to the Bash, for a lot of reasons, but especially because if she wasn’t recovered by then, I’d never hear the end of it from Jameson.

Mallory plunked herself back on my couch, slipped off her sandals, and put her feet up on the coffee table. “So you’re not going to tell your sister that David is here?”

“He said he’d come clean after the Bash. I said if he didn’t tell her then, I would.” I sat down next to her and put my feet up as well. It didn’t seem like the kind of table you were supposed to put your feet on, but then again, we were in a secret city below our nation’s capital. The rules on what was allowed were getting a little fuzzy.

“So how’s he going to protect the president?” Jameson said.

“His superpower is that he can shoot electricity,” I said.

“Like you?” Mallory asked.

“Almost. His powers have faded a lot, but he can still give someone a good jolt if he has to.”

Jameson said, “But can he do this?” He tilted his head in our direction and a second later, the coffee table, the very one our feet rested on, began to rise, forcing our legs up to an uncomfortable angle.

“Stop it, Jameson,” Mallory said in a flirty girl way. “Put it down!” Her laughter contradicted her words and fueled him to keep going. In some ways he was such a kid.

“Put it down,” I said, jumping up off the couch. I pressed down on the coffee table with both hands but I couldn’t move it, no matter how hard I pushed. “Now.”

“Not going to do it. Can’t make me.”

“I’m not in the mood, Jameson. Just put it down.”

“Yeah, I don’t take orders from you.” He made the coffee table shimmy back and forth, which really made Mallory laugh.

He had pushed my patience to its limits, apparently not caring that this was my room. A guy should be able to pull rank in his own space. “That’s enough,” I said. “We get it. Just put it down.”

“Make. Me.” He became an orchestra conductor, his hands directing the coffee table to tilt and spin.

“Last chance, Jameson. Knock. It. Off.” I raised my voice, making the message clear.

“Uh unh,” he said with a shake of his head. The coffee table was halfway to the ceiling now.

I blasted a lightning bolt over his head, and it hit the far wall with a sizzle. The electricity briefly made contact with the top of Jameson’s head and the smell of burnt hair filled the room. The coffee table dropped to the floor with a clatter.

“Becker, you moron!” Jameson shouted. He put a hand up to his head. “You could have killed me!”

“I didn’t even come close to killing you.” It was true that for a split second I’d wanted to kill him, but admirably, I’d held back. “I warned you to stop.”

“Do you know how hot that was?” he said. “And my hair is scorched, thanks to you. How are we going to explain that?”

Mallory got up to look at the top of his head and he bent over obligingly to make it easier for her to look. “Your hair is burnt off all right,” she said, running her fingers through it. “Yuck. Smells terrible.”

“Is my scalp burned?” he asked. “I feel like it’s burned. I bet it’s red and blistering.”

“Your scalp looks just a little pink,” she said. “But you’re definitely going to need a haircut before the Bash. A nice military cut would get rid of all the burned ends.”

“Great. Just great.” Jameson’s mood turned sullen. “Now I’m going to look like a freak at the Bash.”

“No one cares how you look. They don’t care how any of us look,” I pointed out. “They only care about what we can do.” To make my point I held out my hands and began juggling with a ball of sparks. I tossed it from hand to hand so quickly that it blurred like the lights on an amusement park ride at night.

“Nice, Russ,” Mallory said, marveling at the light show. “You could headline in Vegas.”

I let the ball fizzle out and bowed dramatically toward Mallory, who applauded loudly. I said, “Thank you. Thank you very much.” My best Elvis impression. I even curled my lip.

Jameson let out an exasperated sigh. “Good boy, Russ. I can see you’re very proud of yourself, so good for you. But guess what? I have a few surprises up my sleeve too.” He gestured with a flick of his finger. “Mallory, go sit on the couch.”

“Let’s not do this again,” I protested, but my words were ignored.

Mallory went to sit on the couch, her legs tucked underneath. “This okay?” she asked, smoothing her hair.

“Come on, Jameson. That’s enough.” I shouldn’t have blasted him, I saw that now. Instead of stopping him, he’d turned it into a competition.

“Don’t worry about it, Russ. It’s nothing bad. You’re going to like this.” Jameson turned his attention back to Mallory. “Ready?”

Mallory leaned back like a magician’s assistant, ready for the next trick. “I’m ready.”

“Watch this,” Jameson said, holding his palms up and wiggling his fingers. “Couchicus, Upicus!” I couldn’t look at both of them at once, so my eyes had been on Jameson, the one most likely to do something crazy. When I glanced back to the couch, it was already hovering a few inches off the floor. Mallory’s mouth dropped open in delight. The couch with Mallory on it had to weigh a few hundred pounds. I’d never seen Jameson move anything anywhere near that size.

“How are you doing this?” I asked.

Jameson’s eyes narrowed as he concentrated on the couch. It inched upward until Mallory’s head was almost to the ceiling. She pressed her hand against its surface and Jameson dropped the couch in response. It became a game. He’d raise her up, she’d push against the ceiling and it would go down, and the whole thing would repeat. Mallory said, “Don’t drop me, Jameson!”

“I would never drop you, Miss Mallory,” he said, bringing the couch gently to the floor. “Your safety is my only concern.” Somehow he’d acquired a Southern accent.

“Thank you kindly, sir,” Mallory said, playing along. She leaped off the couch like a kid jumping off a swing. “I’m much obliged.”

He bowed low. “My pleasure, truly.”

I said, “No, seriously, how long have you been able to do this?”

Mallory threw her arms around Jameson’s neck. “Isn’t he good? He’s been practicing on the sly. He moved a refrigerator back home.”

Jameson’s mouth spread into a toothy, satisfied smile. He said to Mallory, “I think I finally impressed our friend Russ. And you know that’s not easy to do.”

Nadia

I went to my room, shut the door, and lowered the blinds before settling back onto my bed. My mind buzzed with everything that had happened lately: my mom in the hospital and my dad giving me permission to go to Washington D.C. to join the others. I didn’t want to be happy about my mother’s breakdown, but I was a little. She would get the medical attention she needed and I would be released from being confined to my house. My prison door would be swinging wide open very soon. Now all I needed was permission from the Praetorian Guard to meet up with the rest of the group. I didn’t even want to think about the possibility that they’d say no. That would really suck to be able to go but have it be too late. I put it out of my mind, settled back on my pillow to get comfortable, but not to sleep. I was way too hyped up to do that and I needed to talk to Russ.

I let myself sink into the bed and willed myself to enter the zone. The world faded away and I let out a sigh of relief when I felt it working. Not being able to do it before had made me doubt I would ever be able to do it again, but now that I was feeling more relaxed it had to work. It just had to. I thought the words:
Take me to Russ Becker
.

I soared through the air, across land and time. Minutes and miles meant nothing. The way I traveled couldn’t be measured in increments. I wasn't grounded anymore. I was an angel, a ghost, a thought, a wisp of air. And the sensation? Indescribable freedom.

When I started my descent deep into the earth, I wasn't worried like I’d been the first time it happened. Underneath was where Russ was, so it's where I wanted to be. Once I got to the city beneath the city, my spirit flew like Peter Pan and the Lost Boys, but this wasn't Never Never Land and I wasn't lost.

Russ's room was dark but I could make out his form under the covers. He wasn’t in the same place he was the night before. This space looked bigger and he was alone. Better, I thought, not to have anyone else around. No Jameson in sight. I moved closer and his face came into view. His beautiful face. I could look at him all night and for the rest of my life. Unaware of my staring eyes he slept, quietly and deeply. I watched intently as he exhaled in and out. Peaceful breathing, I thought. At one point he smiled and rubbed his hand over his nose like he had an itch.

My ethereal form nestled up against him, waiting for him to sense my presence, but minutes went by and that didn't happen. Instead he slept the sleep of the truly exhausted. Working on the president must have worn him out.

Russ
. My thought waves nudged at him.
Russ, can you hear me?

He sighed audibly and sounded pleased. I had to think that on some level, he knew I was there. I let my mind meld with his.
Russ, it’s me—Nadia. I’m here with you now. Can you hear me?
I couldn’t break into his thoughts, but I tapped into his emotional essence and grabbed hold of three things floating around his consciousness. He felt good about what was happening here in PGDC. He knew he was capable of performing what needed to be done on this mission. And he missed me.

I pulled back and looked at the outline of his face in the dim light of the room. If I’d actually been there I would have traced his profile with my finger, starting at the top of his forehead and ending at his strong jaw-line. In Peru, a woman named Elena had said he looked like a young John F. Kennedy. I hadn’t really seen it then, but I saw it now. Not a dead-on resemblance, but a little bit the same. Like JFK, Russ had the air of someone who would someday be very important. The potential for greatness was obvious.
Russ,
I said.
My mother is in the hospital and my dad is letting me come join you.
Russ didn’t show any signs of having heard me. Man, he was out of it.

In the end I decided to let him sleep. Soon enough he’d know I was coming, or maybe when he woke up my words would linger, like something he’d heard in a dream.

I wasn’t quite ready to go home just yet. I wandered from room to room looking at the ornate framed pictures and the vases of flowers everywhere. Fancy. More like something a woman would like than a guy. The furniture was fussy and stiff. Nothing you’d flop down on after a hard day’s work, that’s for sure. The oversized bathroom had a shower and a separate, deep tub. A lot of room for just one person. This place was more like a suite or an apartment than a hotel room. Eventually I got bored of checking it out and I went back to Russ’s bedside.
Good-bye Russ.
I said
. I love you. I’m leaving now but I’ll be back later.