Legacy (6 page)

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Authors: Kate Kaynak

BOOK: Legacy
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I bit my lower lip and looked away. Seeing those thoughts in Trevor made my soul ache. But how could I hold those thoughts against him? She’d charmed them into him—at least the worst ones. And weren’t they normal? I heard them all the time from the other guys around here. Weren’t all straight guys attracted to women they saw—especially women who intentionally inspired raunchy thoughts? Out in the rest of the world, where guys didn’t know to watch the contents of their heads around me, it was even worse. Was I supposed to just ignore them in Trevor? How could I? They hit me in the gut like rocks.

We followed Williamson up the two flights of stairs to his office. He closed the door behind us and Trevor and I took the two chairs in front of his desk. I still held his arm—it gave my hand something to do besides slap people. The contact also kept him in the mental conversation.

Williamson leaned forward in his chair and tented his fingers.
Maddie, do I need to tell you to play nice with the new charm?

I tried to scowl, but it came out more like a pout.
That WAS nice. She’s still breathing, isn’t she? So what’s her deal?

Belinda? She’s our best information source in Washington, D.C
.

What? That…that…
several rude terms came to mind
… woman is in the government?

Not exactly. She gets her information…in other ways
. Then I saw his meaning.

SHE’S A HOOKER?
My jaw dropped as revulsion filled me. She had a G-positive ability, and
that
was what she used it for? What a waste of dodecamine!

Call girl. It’s not like she has to have sex with anyone, after all. Really, she’s more like a spy. Belinda has a large client list—men in many different positions.

So to speak.

Williamson rolled his eyes
. Don’t start that. When she “dates” one of these men, she can charm him into believing that she’s…fulfilled his, um…fantasies. She actually spends the time asking him questions and gathering information for us.

I could see the perverse appeal of having these men pay someone to spy on them. But she could cause so much damage! And what about national security? We were still Americans, after all. What about these men’s families? Belinda could “persuade” an otherwise faithful husband or boyfriend to call her. How many good relationships and marriages had she destroyed? Did she care? Her actions might be for our benefit, but they underscored just how dangerous a charm could be. Did she put us all at risk of exposure? And if someone found out what she was doing…

She’d charm them into forgetting. It’s happened a few times.
Williamson interrupted my building rant.
In fact, if people in D.C. need to “forget” something they’ve learned about Ganzfield or G-positives, I usually call Belinda to pay them a quick visit.

I shook my head.
What she does is wrong on so many levels.

Aren’t you worth over six million dollars these days, Maddie?

That’s not the same! I didn’t hurt anyone!
Besides, it was four-point-something million now. We hadn’t cut any corners with the IRS—not after the SEC investigation.

It’s probably closer than you like to think.

I huffed, offended. I was
not
like Belinda!

And speaking of what you’re thinking, I don’t want any more shielding like you did this morning.

My jaw clenched and I considered throwing a brick wall up around my mind again—just to show him that he wasn’t the boss of me. No, I needed to be better than that. I needed to be…responsible. Mature.
How about you give me a little credit next time, Jon? It’s not like I go sneaking off the grounds a lot, and I always have a really good reason.

True, but you don’t always think things through before you go charging off.

But I usually get a chance to think things through before I get to where I’m going. We’re in the middle of nowhere here so it’s a long drive.

Trevor snorted.

Williamson smiled.
Okay, how about a compromise? You get a standing pass to use one of the vehicles and go off the grounds when you have a “really good reason,” as you put it. In return, I get your word that you’ll tell us before you go and that you’ll take proper security precautions. Also, if you’re shielding to protect someone’s privacy again, you let me know. Write me a note, if that’s what it takes.

Deal.
I had to admit, I usually liked Williamson’s deals.

So we’re good?
Trevor gave my hand a squeeze as he joined the silent conversation.

We’re good,
Williamson replied.

We stood up to leave
. Anything else?
I asked.

Williamson frowned as a shadow passed through his thoughts.
One more thing. We think Isaiah has killed again.

Where?

Just outside Chicago. This time, he took out three people together. A charm and his two children. A boy and a girl—young. Their mother was with them. Her husband and kids just crumpled in front of her.

Oh, my God in Heaven.
Killing children? While their mother watched them die? Bile rose in my throat. I again felt the impulse to just
do something
to stop Isaiah. We needed to find a way to take him down, to end this horror.

I’m going out there to talk to Mrs. Davis. I’ll take a larger group this time. Your team works well together. I think it’s a good model. Zack Greyson is ready to do fieldwork, so he’ll come along as the charm. Three sparks should do it. I don’t want to leave Ganzfield short-handed—

Williamson broke off as he realized that my attention had turned to Trevor. Alarm had spiked through him at the name
Davis
.

“What was the man’s name?” Trevor’s thoughts had turned a sickly grey and his face had paled.

I let out a gasp as I understood.
Oh, no.

“Jared Davis?” he asked.

Williamson’s eyes widened as he read the concern in Trevor’s mind, as well. He fumbled to pull up the file on his computer, checking the names again.

Jared Davis: age 37.
Rebecca Davis: age 8.
William Davis: age 5.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.” He meant it. While Williamson kept records of family connections for all of the G-positives who came through Ganzfield, he hadn’t remembered Trevor’s father’s name.

“We—we weren’t close.”

I wrapped my arms around Trevor, wordlessly trying to send him as much comfort and support as I could. He put his hand on my shoulder and his fingers gripped white.

“Why don’t you sit down?”

“No, Jon. I’m okay. I’m just…I’m going to…” Even in his mind he didn’t know how that sentence ended.

I’ll take him home
.
Can someone cover our patrol tonight?

Williamson nodded.
I’ll get someone to take your places.
A thought occurred to him.
Do the two of you want to go see Jared Davis’ widow instead? Maddie, you can get the same information I can. Does Trevor need to go and see his family now?

“Yeah. We’ll go.” Trevor sounded far away.

You’re sure?
I asked.

He nodded.
“You can leave tomorrow. I’ll set everything up. Who do you want on your team?”
Trevor looked down into my eyes. “Just Maddie.”

You need backup. Some sparks, maybe, and a charm…

“If Isaiah finds us, Jon, we can protect each other long enough to get away. But we can’t do that for anyone else. And a larger team would draw attention. No one would think anything about the two of us showing up after—at a time like this. Just Maddie.”

Williamson nodded.
I’ll set everything up,
he told us again.

 

 

Back at the church, I pulled Trevor over to his bed, wrapped my arms around him, and put my forehead against his.

Oh, Trevor. I’m so sorry.
I ached to wrap him tightly in so many layers of love that nothing painful like this could ever touch him.

Confusion and contradiction filled him. He mourned a man he’d barely known—he’d only met his birthfather once.
It’s stupid for me to care about someone who didn’t care about me.
His gut twisted for the half-siblings he’d never met—whom he’d never get a chance to meet now. He felt like crying, but he didn’t want to cry.

I brought a hand up to caress Trevor’s cheek, trying to soothe him. I wished I was better at this—that I knew how to help him.
What can I do? What do you need?

Just you. Just this.
He wrapped two sets of arms around me, pulling me close—not in a romantic way, but for reassurance and comfort. He got the same sense of wholeness—of peace—from me that I got from him.

I stroked his face gently.
I can do that.

 

 

“I think we need to bring back the rest of my family.”

We’d skipped dinner, dipping into our stash of junk food for sustenance. Trevor had been trying the idea on for size for a while and I hadn’t interrupted. His mom and grandparents had never made him feel particularly wanted or cherished, so I already didn’t like them very much, even though we’d never met. Trevor was too good for them. But it was this good nature that made him want to protect them.

How far are they from Chicago?
We leaned against the headboard of his bed and tried to avoid leaving Cool Ranch crumbs on the sheets.

“A little over five hours.”

Okay.

“You’re not thrilled.”

I’m on board, though. I want you to be happy. You want your family safe, so we’ll make sure that happens.

“Thanks.” I could feel Trevor’s own ambivalence, and part of it centered around…me.

Gulp.

You don’t want them to meet me?

“Yes…no. It’s complicated.” His thoughts tumbled out.
I didn’t like who I was back when I was with them. I don’t want to feel...young and stupid and not good enough. I don’t want them looking at you and…seeing someone who’s…”different.” Different isn’t a good thing for my grandmother. I don’t want you to see me the way they do

to know what they really think of me…to confirm what I’ve always suspected they were thinking. And I don’t want you angry at them for it. They’re my family.

So, basically, you think we’ll all hate each other.
I tried not to be hurt.

He gave a sad smile. “Midwesterners don’t hate. It’s not polite.”

So, you think we’ll all DISAPPROVE of each other.

“That sounds about right,” he admitted.

You love them.

He nodded.

You love me.

“You know how much I do.”

Then I will get along with them, even if it kills me.
I could play nice. I really could. I’d smile through every disapproval. Maybe I could use my ability to get some insight into how to win a little of their positive regard.

Trevor looked unconvinced.

They used to be college professors, right? I was a complete teacher’s pet in school. I can get them to like me.

Trevor gave me another skeptical look. “I seem to remember you ignoring most of your classes.”

I gave a little laugh.
Well, yeah. Here. How could I pay attention in class when I could talk to YOU instead?

He smiled, pinking up slightly with pleasure. I set the chips and soda on the floor by the side of the bed.

You know, you’ve completely derailed my academic career. I don’t know if I’ve thanked you for that recently.

I pulled myself across him, my legs on either side of his.

“But how will you ever make a living?” He smiled as he wrapped his arms around my waist.

Professional poker player.

He gave me a dubious look.

Game show contestant? I’d rock on Jeopardy!

He considered that one.

How about we just become one another’s devoted love slaves and we live off the interest from my millions and millions of dollars?

“That’s more like it.” He grinned as he kissed me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 5

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I heard about Trevor’s father.” Rachel crossed her arms over her abdomen. I’d come up to her room in Blake House because I needed an Isaiah-tracker update. “I’m sorry. I—I didn’t see that one.”

I was grateful for that, since she’d have given me a head full of memories if she had. She often replayed the killings she’d witnessed through her visions. They filled her with a hot anger that she actually enjoyed, since it temporarily drove out her pain—and her feelings of weakness.

Thanks. I’ll tell him. We’re going out to talk to—to his stepmother today.
The term didn’t seem to fit a woman he’d never met.

“I think Isaiah’s still in the Midwest. It looked like Iowa from the road signs. Be careful and keep your cell phone with you. I’ll call if I see him heading back to Chicago.”

We’re going to try and bring the rest of his family back here from Michigan.

She nodded, adding that information to her mental map. “My parents are coming here next week.”

Ready to tell them?

“Yeah. I mean, I guess.”

Sean’s parents are staying in one of the trailers.

“They are?”

You might want to tell them, too.

The trailers were the movie-star kind—not the tornado-bait kind—but I kept away anyway. Many family members of those who’d died in the massacre stayed there—avoiding the places that reminded them of the dead. The combined anguish of the victims’ families punched me in the gut when I got too close.

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