Metawars: The Complete Series: Trance, Changeling, Tempest, Chimera (40 page)

“Cipher’s trying very hard to wake up, Trance. He’s fighting for you. He may even be in love with you.”

“Fuck off.”

He quirked an eyebrow and crinkled his nose. It created an absurd expression on Gage’s face. “I haven’t seen this vulgar side of you before. I am certain, however, if I’d gone into
anyone else’s body, you’d have blasted me by now without regard for that person’s life.”

Seen that side of you before. He was playing now. I couldn’t let him bait me and reel in the line. I would have killed anyone else if I had to in order to save more lives, only I would have cared. I would have cared a lot. Not Gage, though, not when we’d come so far. I couldn’t lose him by my own hands. “You’re wrong.”

“Am I?”

Instead of giving him the satisfaction, I changed the subject. “What the hell are we doing here?”

“Finishing this, Trance. We’ve been dancing around each other for the better part of a week, and I’m exhausted. You’ve worn me out.”

“So end it already and stop fucking around.” My left hand burned, itching to create and unleash an orb. To release the pent-up fury flickering just beneath the surface. I swept my hand out, indicating the room’s five prisoners. “You could have killed them all before I got back, and then pounced. Why the show?”

“I need an alibi.”

My lips parted. He watched me, curious, studying my reaction. I couldn’t seem to move, think. Utter a sound. He had the upper hand completely, and all I had was the very real urge to curl into a ball and scream.

“You’re thinking now,” doppelganger-Gage said. “Wondering. Who do you think I am, Trance? Still think I’m Agent Grayson? Or is he stuffed in the trunk of the car you crashed into, slowly suffocating to death?”

“You’re a bastard.”

“Funny you should say that. But I’m also damned. I have been since the moment I was cursed with these powers, “he said with a weary sigh. “I’ve been in all of their heads, you know. Your friends. A little gas in the vents to loosen them up and make them sleepy. Then a walk down here to tie themselves up. I know what they think of you. Want to know?”

“Have I said ‘fuck off’ yet?”

He strolled past me, my hostility rolling off him like water off a duck, gazed at his prisoners, hands folded behind his back, pleased with himself. I kept even with him, allowing only a few feet of distance between us, and froze when he stopped halfway to the balance beam.

“Did you know Flex still blames you for Caliber’s death?” he said. “She hates that Gage is alive and William is dead. Deep down she thinks you let him die. That you left him behind. Of course, you and I both know the truth—”

I hit him hard with a closed fist, awkward with my left hand. The blow glanced off his chin and did little more than piss him off. He threw a jab I couldn’t avoid. It smashed into the blood knot on my chin and splattered crimson all over his shirt. I fell to my knees, blinded by the fiery agony in my face. Blood drizzled down my neck. The world tilted.

“Don’t do that,” he said. “I don’t want to kill you yet, but I will keep you docile.”

Docile? I struggled to breathe, to maintain some sense of composure, when all I wanted to do was collapse. Giving up would hurt less. Forcing him to kill me would end this sick game. Tears dribbled down my cheeks, and through them,
I saw clearly—my friends tied up like animals, used as bait, and my lover lording over it all, controlled by a madman. If I gave up, I doomed them all to death, and if hell existed, I would burn for it.

If I gave up, the future of the Rangers died with me.

“Why?” I said, practically spitting the word.

“Why what?”

“Why are you really doing this?” I lifted my head. Another tear squeezed from the corner of my eye and joined the river of liquid already staining my chin and throat. “Why are you killing us off? Why did you kill those Metas and destroy the Warden?”

He sucked in his lower lip, a very Gage-like gesture. He seemed to war between his own desire to gloat and some need to keep it secret. Knowledge made him feel superior, gave him an edge. I needed to turn that edge against his throat and press.

“You weren’t a Bane before,” I said, pushing a little harder. “You probably aren’t a Meta at all, just some nobody who thinks mass murder makes them somebody.”

He scowled. “You know less than you think.”

I hauled my weary body up, ignoring the throbbing in my face. Intent on him. “Once we’re all dead, then what? The Banes get turned loose to wreak havoc on the world? Is that what you want?”

His scowl softened into surprise. “You didn’t know about the MHC’s fail-safe protocol, did you?”

I shook my head, wary of his tricks.

“Of course you wouldn’t. It’s something they designed
thirty years ago, Trance. I’m surprised no one ever mentioned it. Especially McNally, since you two seem very chummy. Of course, this isn’t the first time she’s withheld information under the guise of your best interests. I suppose she didn’t want some sort of Ranger riot on her hands when you actively hated the idea.”

“What idea?” I snapped, tired of his pontificating.

“Mass murder. Did you know they have been systematically piping a depressant into the island’s water supply for the last ten years? And they’ve recently increased the dosage, making it so strong some people are getting sick. I suspected as much for years, but Psystorm verified it when he spoke to you about Caleb’s mother.”

Gage hadn’t been in the room during the conversation about the prison’s water supply. Neither had Grayson, for that matter. I looked at the bodies tied up on the floor. What was out of place?

He continued: “The MHC had something else prepared, Trance, completely unknown to their superiors at the ATF. A fail-safe protocol to eradicate the Banes, to be used only in the event that your powers returned, and all active and capable Rangers were killed in action. It was meant to protect regular human beings from the Bane threat. To destroy the most dangerous weapons in the world in one fell swoop.”

Psystorm. The little black box.

“The collars,” I said.

He nodded.

Bile surged into my mouth. I swallowed hard. That’s what this was about: genocide. Destroying everyone with powers.
“It won’t work,” I said, unable to keep my voice steady. “You know it won’t, don’t you? I mean, you could have killed all twelve of us right away, and then what? Look at Ember. The Banes have children on the island who are uncollared and powered.”

“I admit, Caleb and Ember were unexpected, but I had to see this through.” He looked at me with weary eyes. “Perhaps this time it will be better.”

This time. My guts twisted. “So all the old Rangers and Banes die. Rangers at Specter’s hand, the Banes at the push of the government’s button, and then all is well? What gives you the right?”

“Have you ever been away from home for so long you’ve lost yourself and everything you know? Of course you have. You lost your powers for fifteen years, and you spent the time wallowing in a life not yours. Trying to fit into a world that didn’t want you. So did Cipher. I can feel his disgust with the way things were. Being normal and how it nearly destroyed him. They stole your identity and your life. If given the chance, wouldn’t you have done anything to be here today? To be what you were always meant to be?”

“Yes.” I said it before I thought better. It was the truth. I despised those feelings of alienation, of knowing I wasn’t meant to be a regular girl. I went to extremes in my personal life to find something to fill the aching void in my heart. And now someone decided my life and my pain was on the sacrificial altar? Hell, no. I’d fought too long and hard to carve out the life I had. It was not his to take away. We’d all worked too damned hard.

A frustrated scream lodged in my throat. “So what happens now? You’ve told me your dastardly plan. You’re holding my boyfriend’s body hostage, and my friends are all tied up. You’re either going to kill me now, or make me watch you kill my friends first. Why keep stalling?”

“I like this body, so young and vibrant, and so in love. I wish you could feel it for yourself.”

“Why don’t you memorize it?” I said, dripping with sweet sarcasm. “Then go back to your real body and jerk off for a while. Maybe you’ll feel a little bit less like a murderous psychopath. Or do you like jumping into the body of a healthy, thirty-year-old because you can’t get it up for a woman in real life?”

I saw the blow coming and ducked. His fist sailed over my shoulder, putting him off balance. I brought my knee up into his stomach, hard, right into Gage’s existing bruise. He doubled over and hit the floor. I drove my left elbow into the center of his back. He grunted, dropping like a stone. I turned and lobbed a concentrated orb ten feet toward the center of the balance beam holding Flex hostage. It shattered. Ropes broke. She tumbled to the floor, shrieking as her tortured arms and legs retracted to their normal size.

Something caught my ankle and pulled. I couldn’t compensate and toppled forward, smashing my cast-covered arm into the floor. White-hot agony killed my screams. I couldn’t breathe. I waited for it. The last strike, be it from a gun or a blow to the head.

Nothing.

I rolled onto my back. The shrieking pain reduced itself
to a dull roar and settled behind my temples. Still no killing blow. I sat up with some effort. My head spun in counterclockwise circles. I closed my eyes until it passed. The room came into focus. My heart pounded. The sight didn’t shock me like it should have—just created a sense of utter failure.

Doppelganger-Gage stood by the rear wall a few paces from the exit, out of immediate reach, watching me intently. He held a knife to his throat, just below his left ear. The blade pressed hard into the skin and had already drawn a thin line of blood. His expression warred with itself, wavering between frustration and anger.

“I’ll kill him, you know I will. Are you going to settle down?”

“No, I won’t.”

He blinked. “You won’t?”

“No.” Rage burned from my very core, tingling every nerve ending, blinding my other emotions. I was sick of being manipulated by this monster, and I was ending this one way or another. I just hoped Gage could forgive me. One day I might forgive myself.

“Not even if I kill one of your friends? Flex, perhaps? Or your new pal Psystorm? I know you’d hate to be responsible for making that sweet little boy of his an orphan.”

More fuel to the fire. My hands clenched. I saw purple, and this time, it wasn’t filter overload. Just rage. “
You’d
make him an orphan, you unforgivable bastard. You’re going to kill them all anyway, so nothing you do in this room is my fault. You made me kill for you three times too many. I killed Frost for you. I won’t kill for you again.” My left hand came up to
shoulder height, and an orb the size of a grapefruit coalesced above my palm. “I won’t let you kill anyone else, either.”

His eyes narrowed. “I haven’t killed, Trance. There is no blood on my hands.”

“You set the fire that destroyed the Warden. You manipulated their deaths. You possessed people and put them in harm’s way. Their blood is on your hands as surely as if you’d stabbed them in the heart yourself. “

“Semantics, Trance, but if it’s literal blood on my hands you want …” He pulled the knife’s blade across Gage’s throat, from ear to Adam’s apple. Blood spurted. The yellow glow bled from his eyes as the doppelganger released him. Gage hit the floor hard.

Screams filled my ears as I bolted to his side. I pressed my left hand against the wound, trying to stanch the steady flow of blood. I couldn’t tell if he’d hit the artery. I didn’t want to know. I just held on.

“Dr. Seward,” I shouted. “Agent McNally, anyone! Please, wake up!”

Renee stirred. Not helpful. I couldn’t move without letting go, couldn’t use orbs to free the others without letting go. I just pressed down, Gage’s blood so hot against my skin it seemed to burn. I pressed and watched, expecting one of my friends to wake up suddenly, their eyes yellow and their body possessed. Any one of them could be the doppelganger.

“Hello?”

My hand jerked, startled by the voice. I held my breath, wondering if I’d imagined it. A few seconds later, the call repeated
itself. I knew his voice—my number one suspect. Fear and hope collided. I had to bank on hope, for Gage’s sake.

“In here! Please, I’m here!”

Alexander Grayson burst into the room at a dead run. A short, frumpy man whom I disliked on principle, and here he was, saving my ass with dirt on his rumpled suit, a bruise on his cheekbone, and a distant look in his eyes. Eyes I instinctively studied—no yellow glow. Maybe he really had been stuffed in a trunk. But by whom? My entire list of suspects was tied up, injured or both.

“What the hell’s happening, Trance? The Medical Center is—” He surveyed the room. Sweat glistened on his forehead, and his eyes seemed to grow impossibly wider when he saw me. Really saw me. “Holy Mother of—”

“Is the fire department here yet?” I asked.

“I don’t think they’re inside, no.” He took a few steps closer, his attention fixed on the slowly spreading pool of blood beneath Gage. “My God, what happened? I’d just parked my car when—”

“It’s Specter, really long story. Please, just put your hand here and hold pressure on Gage’s throat. We need to get the others loose and call an ambulance.”

Grayson took my place, his hand pressing down hard where mine had been a moment ago. Gage was pale, but breathing steadily. The blood loss horrified me. If God existed and liked me even a little bit—highly debatable—then the doppelganger had missed the artery and just done scary, reparable damage.

I skipped past my bound friends and ran to the wall of
windows, lobbed an orb at the glass, and watched it shatter outward.

The roar of the nearby fire and scream of alarms became louder, and the acrid scent of smoke filtered inside. The open window presented me with a clear view of the decimated Medical Center, burning out of control. An empty scene of destruction. The loss of a hundred years of Meta history. Red lights twirled and spun on the other side of the main gate, which stood closed. Locked. Could I break it down from here? Probably not.