Resistance (The Variant Series #2) (15 page)

“Tell them all to go to bed,” she said. “I’ll be fine.”

Her eyes drifted shut. It was growing more and more difficult to keep them open. It was also starting to look as though she’d be spending the rest of the night there on the floor.

“Good luck convincing
them
of that,” said Brian. “Nate and Aiden have been conspiring in the kitchen all night, Dad’s been on the phone for ages and hasn’t left his office since yesterday afternoon, and I think Declan fell asleep standing up in the hallway outside the guest room.”

“Declan’s in the hall?” Alex winced.

After everything that had happened with Connor on Friday, a concerned Declan was the
last
thing she’d expected. Then again, maybe it was just his turn for guard duty.

“Is he, really?” Kenzie slid off the counter. “Good. He can get his narcoleptic butt in here and help me carry Alex back to bed, then.”

Alex’s eyes shot open. “No! It’s fine.
I’m
fine. I can manage it on my own.”

To prove her point, Alex attempted to drag herself to her feet—and promptly fell over the side of the jacuzzi tub instead. Alex grimaced as she struggled back into a seated position at the center of the cavernous bowl.

“I’m good!” She breathed. “I swear I’m good.”

“Would you
stop
?” Kenzie took her by the shoulders as though she fully expected Alex to try again.

She needn’t have worried. That glorious stumble had used up the last of her energy.

Alex noticed, with some bit of distraction, that Kenzie was being exceedingly careful to keep her fingertips from moving past the edges of Alex’s t-shirt.

“Geez, Lex,” Kenzie sighed. “And I thought
Declan
was stubborn. No more moving! You’re just going to hurt yourself. Bri, go wake up Decks and get him in here.”

As Brian left to retrieve Declan, Kenzie reached for the discarded washcloth and began dabbing Alex’s forehead and cheeks. “You’re
going
to let us help you,” she said. “You hear me?”

No longer in any shape to argue, Alex nodded, resigned.

Kenzie snatched up Alex’s lost hair tie. “Here.” She gestured for Alex to turn her head to the side, then pulled the mass of wayward locks out of Alex’s face and back into a bun. “Better?”

“Much,” she said. “Thank you.”

“Huh,” said a deep voice from the doorway.

Alex looked up.

“You really
did
fall in the tub.” Declan stood just inside the bathroom, slightly disheveled and wearing a disinterested frown.  “Thought Brian made that part up.”

Alex
really
wanted to roll her eyes at that statement, but simply didn’t have the strength. She sighed instead. “Good morning to you, too, Declan.”

He made his way to the edge of the tub. “Can you stand?”

“You’re going to have to pick her up, Declan,” said Kenzie. “I don’t want her falling again.”

With a snort of amusement, Declan knelt beside the tub. “Yes, mother.”

Declan’s eyes raked over Alex’s bare skin.

Earlier, Aunt Cil had helped her into a t-shirt and pajama shorts, leaving Alex feeling
cooler
, but decidedly more vulnerable.

He sat back on his haunches. “Brian can you run and find a blanket?”

“It’s fine,” said Alex.

Declan’s frown deepened. “What?”

Alex leaned her head back against the side of the tub, exhaustion causing her vision to blur at the edges. Her eyes drifted closed of their own accord.

“Blanket?” asked Brian.

“Check the hall closet.”

“I said it’s fine,” Alex managed.

“You’re not thinking clea—”

“
It’s fine
,” she repeated. Alex slit her eyes open. “I’ve decided to give Masterson what he wants.”

The thought of it all happening
again
—of the others not being around to incapacitate her before she hurt someone…

Her chest tightened. “You were right, Decks. I can’t just hide from this. It’s time that I start training.
Really
training.” Alex’s eyes closed once more. “Jumping is the easiest for me to control. Makes sense to start with that one.”

Silence.

Despite the importance of her declaration, Alex could feel herself drifting, sliding slowly toward unconsciousness. The moment seemed to stretch, time dilating as she inched ever closer toward the sleep her body craved.

…and then Declan’s warm arms slid beneath Alex’s shoulders and the crook of her knees, and she was being raised slowly into the air, her head cradled against his shoulder.

Alex sighed as the transfer began, the tingle of electricity cascading through her in every place their skin made contact.

Declan laid her carefully on the bed. Alex shivered as their physical contact was broken and Declan’s warmth was replaced with the cool chill of cotton sheets.

Darkness.

Soft voices.

Alex drifted.

A door opened and closed. Alex’s eyes blinked open. “Please, don’t…” she heard herself saying. “Don’t leave.”

A warm hand covered hers, bringing a familiar current with it.

“Stay?” she managed.

“Couldn’t get rid of me if you tried, princess.”

* * *

“I hate this. All the waiting…” Nathaniel paced the length of the kitchen, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t think I can take another three weeks of this, Aiden. I’m
this close
to coming clean to her about all of it. And I do mean
all
of it.”

Aiden sighed. He leaned forward in his chair and gazed out into the hallway, making sure the coast was still clear before attempting a reply.

“Would you quit your bitching and sit down?” he said finally. “You know what’s on the line here better than anyone. You’ll be able to keep your mouth shut.”

Nathaniel shook his head slowly.

“I know you will, because I know
you
, Nate
.
You care too much. You won’t put everything at risk—you won’t put
them
at risk—when we’re this close to the end.” Aiden leaned back in his chair, folded his hands behind his head and stared up at the ceiling.

A late night rain fell against the picture window behind him, a gentle wind directing it steadily against the pane. As always, the presence of so much water was soothing.

Without looking, Aiden could sense the path of each and every drop snaking its way down the glass. He fought back an urge to manipulate the different streams.

Meanwhile, his companion continued to pace the length of the kitchen.

“You’re going to burn a hole in the floor if you keep it up.” Aiden closed his eyes. “Sleep’s the better option. Alex won’t be up and around again until later, the Agency won’t make a move at four in the morning when they’re meeting with Grayson at nine, and if you keep marching back and forth in front of me like that, I swear to God, I’m gonna lose it.”

Aiden was starting to wonder if Nate would even
survive
the next few weeks until the event. At the rate things were progressing, he was going to suffer a nervous breakdown before it even started.

Nate’s cell rang and he pulled it from his pocket.

“Who keeps calling you?” asked Aiden.

“Who do you think?” Nate hit the button that would ignore the call, then shoved the burner phone back into his jeans.

“How long you plan on putting them off?” he asked.

Not that he
wanted
Nate to give the Agency a leg up with inside information on the events of the day, he just wasn’t sure how long his friend would be able to delay the inevitable.

Nathaniel sighed. “This wasn’t supposed to happen,” he said, his voice gruff from exhaustion. “She never mentioned…”

As Nate trailed off, Aiden raised a hand and gave in to his urges, droplets of water sliding into place on the glass above his head.

Nathaniel stopped mid-pace and read the sentence Aiden formed in rainwater on the window. Aiden’s words had their desired effect. Nathaniel sank into one of the empty chairs next to him.

“You know what Grayson would say to that.” Nathaniel slouched in his chair. “Profanity—”

“Is the linguistic crutch of inarticulate bastards.” Aiden smiled. “I remember. You’re still an asshole.”

Nathaniel snorted.

The saying was a remnant of days gone by. Days Aiden spent living under Grayson’s roof and following Grayson’s rules. A saying that dredged up mixed emotions, but mostly happy memories.

“Alright, so what
are
we going to do about Alex?” asked Aiden. “Their school lets out for the summer in less than three weeks. With everything that’s going on, maybe you’re right. Maybe we ought to tell her something about what’s coming for her.”

“What if we tell her the wrong thing?”

Aiden shrugged.

“You can’t tell her
anything
,” said a small voice from the kitchen’s entryway.

A bleary-eyed ten-year-old leaned sleepily against the doorframe, hair tousled from sleep. His duvet hung heavily around his slight shoulders, an immense cloak that tailed behind him and disappeared down the darkened hallway. He blinked repeatedly behind his glasses as he tried to bring the world into focus.

“What are you doing up again, Brian?” Nate asked with a sigh. “I thought you finally went to bed.”

The boy frowned, a gesture that succeeded in making him appear even smaller. It seemed as though the weight of his thoughts, even more so than the bulk that enshrouded him, diminished him.

“I dreamt about your conversation,” he said slowly. “Needed to tell you not to do it. Alex can’t know any more than she does already.”

“Which is nothing, right?” said Aiden. “I mean, I know
I
haven’t said anything.”

“She saw the ship that time she went digging in my head,” Nathaniel reminded him. “Alex saw herself on the deck of the
Misty Rose
.”

Brian shrugged, the duvet rising and falling around him. “She hasn’t forgotten what she saw in your head, Nate, but she doesn’t know what it
means
, either. And you can’t tell her. She has to find out on her own.”

Nathaniel growled in frustration. “What if something’s changed? What if that’s why we didn’t see this attack from Masterson coming?”

“You would know if something had changed, Nate,” Brian said cryptically. “And we wouldn’t be here right now, having this conversation, if everything wasn’t still on track.”

“I still don’t like it,” said Nate.

“No one
likes it
, Nathaniel.” Aiden rolled his eyes. “Christ. None of us
want
it to play out like this, but I don’t really see as how we have a choice. If Brian says this path is the lesser of a thousand evils, then—”

“He’s ten!” Nathaniel shouted, before wincing and lowering his voice to a hoarse whisper. “How do we even know he’s got it right?”

The room fell silent.

Nathaniel sighed. “No offense, Brian. I trust you, I just don’t know if I trust your abilities yet.”

Brain was frowning at his feet. “It’s okay, Nate. I get it.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, then looked up. “I know I’m still a kid. And I know you’re afraid I don’t understand how important all this is, but… I
do
understand. I get it, Nate. And I don’t want to lose them, either. I don’t want Alex
or
Declan to die.”

— 13 —

“I
t’s time for you to wake up, pet
.”

Alex opened her eyes, the last threads of her dream unraveling with the warmth of the morning sun as it crept through the blinds.

Had she been having a nightmare?

Her eyes slipped closed as she tried to grab the fleeting images before they could disappear entirely.

A boat.

No, not a boat. A
ship
.

She’d been lying on the deck of a fishing vessel. It had been storming. And she’d been so cold. So tired. But someone had been holding her hand…

Wait a minute
.

Alex’s eyes shot open once more.

Beside her on the bed, Declan lay sprawled on top of the covers, his jeans and black t-shirt looking decidedly wrinkled. One arm rested between his head and a pillow, while the other lay between them, his fingers still entwined with hers.

Had he been there the entire time? She had the strangest memory of asking him to stay.

Alex ran her free hand over her face.

Oh, crap.
Please
let that have been a dream, too.

The currents between them shifted, growing steadily stronger. Declan was waking up.

“Morning,” he whispered. He made no move to pull back his wayward hand.

Alex tugged the covers up and over her mouth. “Morning,” she mumbled.

Oh, God.

Morning breath times a million.

And Declan’s breath just smelled of cinnamon. How did he
do
that?

“Feeling better?”

Not wanting to open her mouth again, Alex nodded instead.

“That’s good to hear. Sleep alright?”

Another nod.

Alex felt, more than heard, the low rumble of laughter in Declan’s chest. He pulled himself into a seated position beside her on the bed.

“Where’s Aunt Cil?” she asked into the sheets.

“DC.”

Alex sat up, the sheets falling away. “
What
?”

She put a hand over her mouth again as an afterthought.

At some point during the night, Declan had draped his jacket over her sleeping form. Smiling, he reached his free hand forward and pulled a small tin of cinnamon flavored Altoids Smalls from one of the breast pockets.

He offered her one.

“Your aunt and Grayson left a couple hours ago,” he said as she accepted the tiny mint. “They were supposed to meet with the Agency’s Director this morning. Said they’d call to let us know how it went.”

A meeting with Director Carter? And they’d
left her behind
? So much for reclaiming her independence.