Seeker (Shadows) (4 page)

“Is it the money, or the power, or are you here for fun?”

Power
. The word hits before I even have a chance to tell him it’s a stupid question. There’s no doubt that all three play in to a point. I get a huge amount of satisfaction when I’m able to bring in a new talent, especially ones that serve as well as the two girls working in Russia at the moment. But the power?

The Middle men organization has shaped countries, changed lives, people respect us, we’re a
myth to some, and don’t exist to others. We are, in so many ways, a huge step above the rest of the human race. Able to see the world as a completely different place than most people. And who is he to be asking anyway? He just got here.

“Afraid to admit?” he asks.

I scowl and stare. “No. Your question is stupid. That’s all.”

He lets out a half-chuckle, which makes me want to strangle him a little, and we stand in silence for a few moments.

“Shouldn’t you get dressed?” I fold my arms.

He backs away from me toward his room with a huge grin. “Am I distracting you?”

I let out a huff. Such a ridiculously girly gesture that I’m shocked I let it happen. So before I embarrass myself further, I slam the door between us.

It’s already late, and I know I’m supposed to be catching up on sleep after my trip to the West Coast, but I need the ocean, just for a bit. The moonlight dances over the water as the low surf spreads up the beach. The palm fronds make that soft familiar clacking sound, and I breathe in deep, missing the air here even on such a short trip.

“You’re up late,” Ocean says as he stops next to me.

“So are you.” I fold my arms again, like it’ll somehow keep the distance between us that needs to be there. Or maybe it’s that I want to make sure I’ve separated myself enough from him that he doesn’t get any stupid ideas because I can feel him staring again. And why does he have to be out here now?

“They’re getting closer. Faster than I think we realized.” He stares slightly north as he walks
toward the water.

I close my eyes and reach out around me, but the energy in the house is too distracting. At the same time, I don’t want to say that I can’t feel them. Four together should be easier to get a read on.

His eyes are closed as he steps into the water, and he walks out until he’s up to his waist, leaving his lean back exposed.

I
follow him, not wanting to admit that part of it has to do with me proving to myself that I can be around him without getting distracted.

“Rest your hands in the water and try to branch
out. The wind is good, and they’re making better time than we expected.” His voice is soft and serious. His eyes remain closed and I study his broad face, smooth nose, blond hair that’s long enough to cover his ears. He’s gorgeous—has that Landon Michaels surfer-boy thing going on. It’s a shame he’s arrogant and irritating.

“You’re not concentrating.” A corner of his mouth quirks up, but his eyes are still closed.

I’ve always used a fair combination of my talent and the electronic tracking equipment given to us, but I realize that Ocean’s been finding people his whole life, just for fun, and without all the extras.

I place my hands in the water, close my eyes, and try to concentrate.

“I’m going to rest my shoulder against yours, and see if the whole energy thing your parents talk about is real,” he whispers.

His shoulder touches mine, and the picture of the boat is so clear.

Addison is at the helm, the light from the navigation screen gives her a sort of green glow and she’s pushing buttons on the GPS. Dean and Landon are nowhere that I can see, and Micah’s near the large mast, her eyes looking bloodshot.

Everything inside me clicks
as Ocean and I rest together. Like I was a messed-up Rubic’s cube, but now it all matches. Or like my body is made of electrical switches, which are suddenly all going the same way. It slams into me in a way that I didn’t expect, and I jerk away from Ocean before he feels it too, because we are not matched in any other way but energy.

His eyes are on mine, slightly wide.

“We’re…” he starts.

“What?” I back up a few steps, heart hammering but already knowing.

“We could be… Like magnets, you know…” His voice is hesitant, and he doesn’t have to continue.

Right. And not give ourselves a choice. Like my parents. Like so many people with talents who let the energy coursing through their bodies dictate who they like, or love.

The pull to him is now in my chest and my stomach and my head making my skin tingle, my heart pound and my fingers twitch with wanting to touch him again—wondering if it would still be so intense.

I turn back toward the house.

“Wait!” he calls. “I think we should go to them now. By boat. Sail, I mean.”

“Are you crazy?” I turn to face him. “We don’t have equipment together. We have nothing.” My hands are on my hips as I feel my scowl pull down, and if I do one more generic thing I thought I’d never do, I might burst.

“I think that we have to disguise ourselves the best we can. Landon’s crazy powerful, and once he starts really channeling that power, we’ll never get near them. He’ll make sure we don’t.” Ocean starts toward me and I step back, making sure
we
don’t get too close.

I will have a choice, and too much touching of this guy might convince me that I am choosing, when really I’m not.

“But we see them anyway. We’re Seekers.” Even though I know that, there’s no denying that those four have formed sort of an anomaly.

“Seekers have gone out three times to talk with him, Kara. It didn’t work. He manipulates inside our heads. It’s not something we can control, and my guess is that he simply turns our talent off, otherwise his “invisibility” thing wouldn’t work because we’d see the talent behind it.”

“Hmm.” I don’t like the idea of someone having so much power. Damn Senator Michaels for keeping Landon home for so long.

He’d have never met Micah, and we wouldn’t be dealing with this because Landon’s dad and my dad and Landon would have met over golf or something else and Landon would be on our side. Instead, he’s moving south and keeping from us, which means that he’s looking for answers about who he is in the exact wrong place.

I’ve berated myself over and over for not trying to meet him sooner—aside from a kid-aged day at the beach. And me keeping my knowledge of Landon’s talent to myself was also not a good decision, and one I should make up for. It just adds on another layer of why I need this assignment to go well.

“We’ll find him if that’s what you want to do, but he can’t see us as a threat, or we never will.” Ocean stops about six feet away from me, keeping his distance and being polite, I guess.

“Don’t say never.” Ocean doesn’t know what he’s talking about. I’ve never not found someone. “If I want to find him I will.”

His perma half-smile turns into a full-on grin. “So. You’re here for the power then.”

THREE
 

Kara

“We can’t leave unprepared and without talking about our plan,” I hiss as he stuffs a backpack with protein bars and water a few minutes after walking back up the beach.

“Yes.” He scowls, not even trying to hide the sarcasm. “Because that’s worked so well until now.”

I stand in the
small supply room on the main level, still in my wet bathing suit, and long shorts covering my scarred leg. It’s nearing two in the morning. He’s right, of course. The first two Middle Men just went there to talk with him and tell him that we know his dad and to offer protection from the shadow people. It should have been simple.

When he and Micah ran, The Middle Men brought a few more people the next time. Two boats. Eight Middle Men in all. And the last time was just south of New York. Four boats, and sixteen people. We’re not so numerous that we can do that over and over. The Middle Men are needed in places around the world. We have a lot of contracts to uphold.

There were thirty to forty or so original talents, and normally only one kid is talented per family, sometimes two. So our numbers seem to multiply, but it happens at a much slower rate than one would expect. I’m almost certain our numbers are still a bit below a hundred—even with the new recruits. Only my parents and MAC, the one they report to, has rosters of
all
the names.

“I’m just saying that we do operate by some rules here.” It’s really my only argument. The problem is that the thing about working in a group where we’re all talented, is that with some of us especially, there’s a lot of trust. There has to be or we couldn’t function. All I’d have to say to my parents or any other leadership is that we felt it would be the best idea, and I’m sure there wouldn’t be a problem.

“Make sure you have your watch, and we’re good.” Ocean shrugs.

I flash him my watch. They’re not the best forms of communication but we can still keep track of base, and send messages back and forth. They can also track us, which isn’t entirely the point. The point is that we’re gong to need a lot more than he’s packing. “I haven’t had a chance to look at the conversations with Senator Michaels, or whatever we might have learned from Mr. Prince. There’s a lot to do before we just run after them.”

“Kara. We sail in that dinky little catamaran out there, and if I’m right, they’ll be passing by in front of this place in about three hours. That barely gives us enough time to get out there and look like we have no clue what we’re doing.” He zips up the pack and throws it on his back. “Ready?”

“We need our tasers. If you think for one second that the shadows are going to leave us alone…” My brows go up and he shrugs in agreement.

I grab a compact taser, knowing it fits well in my hand and knowing that if I’m going somewhere the shadows don’t want me to be, it’s my only defense in not getting sucked in. I will not live out the rest of my existence as a shadow just so they can feed off me. The burn on my leg is enough damage from them.

I grab two large towels from the shower room on our way back down to the beach, but I’m not going to admit that his plan is decent.

Now that we
have
a plan, the familiar rush starts pounding through me. We run toward where the small Hobie Cat sailboat is tied to the anchor in the sand. Without speaking, we each take a side and push the boat toward the water, my small taser carefully resting in a pocket of my life jacket. Sailor vests, of course, the ones that look more like harnesses instead of the horrible orange generic ones. But I do wish I hadn’t followed Ocean into the water because my suit is still wet, and probably will be for the rest of the night.

The bright yellow pontoons scratch in the sand, and the mast towers above us. Once we get close to the wet sand, both of us break into a run so the boat doesn’t stick.

When we’re knee deep in the water, Ocean whispers again. “Climb on, and start getting the sails ready.”

“Why are you whispering?” I ask.

“They just…” He glances down for a moment before looking back toward me, his face showing the first bits of uncertainty I’ve felt from him. “They seem so much closer to me than they are, and logically I know they’re not the enemy, you know, but it feels like they are.”

His words swim in my brain as I pull on the lines to hoist the sail, and he slides onto the canvas stretched between the pontoons in one easy movement.

“They are the enemy right now,” I say. “Them and the shadows.”

My words drop between us, creating an odd weight.

“Is that how you see it? The people you find to offer jobs to?”

“It’s more complicated than that.” I sigh, very pointedly not looking at him. These four have turned themselves into the enemy by going exactly where the shadows want them to.

“How much more?” he asks. “I mean, I guess I know secrecy is a big deal, but—”

“Some people aren’t talented enough for us to bother with. Those we leave alone. And some people are so powerful they can take down what we’ve built. This is a nearly three hundred year old organization. Without some order among those of us with talents, it could create serious chaos.” The kind of chaos these four powerful people are carrying, but have no idea.

“You’ll have to explain better than that because I’m not about being part of a side. I’m here because I’ve never been around other people with gifts. Not like this.” There’s a hollowness to his words that makes me curious about where he’s from. Who he is. And why the hell my parents assigned me with someone who’s never been on assignment and doesn’t believe in sides?

“You know that every person is basically made of energy. Even normal people,” I say, trying to find the simplest explanation.

“We’re normal people.”

I scoff. “We are not normal. We all can manipulate energy. You and I can sense that special kind of energy in other people. Manipulators can pinpoint the decision making process in someone’s brain making them do or say things that they wouldn’t have done on their own. That is not normal. People like my dad? With Insight? He has his so finely tuned, he can see all sorts of things. They change as people change courses, but he reads the energy around people, and knows what will happen to them.
This is not normal.”