Skin Dive (18 page)

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Authors: Ava Gray

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: Skin Dive
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“Kinda.” Her tone discouraged further questions. Then she added grudgingly, “I do everything to my own hair. But I know lots of styles. I’m a bona fide beauty school dropout.”
“Like Frenchie from
Grease
?”
“Sadly no guardian angel ever came to sing me back to high school.”
“Would you have gone?”
“Hell no. Bend forward.”
Gillie leaned down, elbows on knees, while the other woman deftly twined up some locks of hair in foil. That process took more than a little while. She sat quietly because she didn’t know how to talk to people who weren’t holding her prisoner. Well, except for Taye.
The chemical smell of the color permeated the small bathroom. Honestly, it felt kind of nice to have someone messing with her hair. She’d missed most of the years where her mom would do braids or curl it or help her fix it up for dances. Not that she thought Tanager was in any way mom material. But still . . . nice. It almost took her mind off where they’d send Taye—no, Crow—and what he’d be doing.
“Thanks for helping me.”
“This is my
job
,” Tan said briskly. “All right. We’ve got fortyfive minutes to kill.”
“I take it you have something in mind.”
“Of course. We’re gonna test you.”
That sounded like an unpleasant echo of her days in the lab, but this was a house, not an underground secret facility. Sure, there was snow on the ground, but there were no locks or guards. Gillie told herself all that to calm her thumping heart. But her eyes widened when Tan raised her skirt and lowered her leggings.
“Uhm—”
“Relax. I’ve been shot in the back of the thigh. Hurts like a motherfucker.”
“And you want to see what I can do about it.”
“Unless you have a better plan for what to do while we wait.”
“No, I’ll try.” She studied the wound and tried to remember.
Back in the labs, even with a blood connection, the process didn’t start until she touched the patient.
So maybe I have a true laying-on-of-hands thing.
Gillie took a deep breath and sealed her hand over the wound. Nothing.
“Shit. Maybe you can only do disease? Bummer.” By Tan’s tone, a disease-magnet wasn’t going to prove too helpful.
“I think it’s something about my blood. Come on.” She removed her hand and led the way to the kitchen, where she pulled a knife out of the utensil drawer and made a tiny cut on her fingertip, just enough to draw a few drops.
This time, it was different. She tingled from the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes, as if energy was building there at the wound. Gillie touched Tan’s thigh again, and anguish spiked into the back of her own leg, like she’d been shot herself.
Aw, fuck.
Her eyes went blind for a moment, but she didn’t pull her hand away. She let the wild sensation continue its one-way rush, biting down on her lip to keep from crying out. A faint blue glow pulsated from her fingertips.
And when it was done, she felt sick and shaky. She pulled her hand away and found smooth skin on Tan’s thigh.
“That hurt you,” the other woman said softly.
“As you said, like a motherfucker.”
“Pull down your sweats. I promise I’m not being a freak.”
Gillie eased them down and craned over her shoulder to look.
Yeah. New scar.
It looked like an old gunshot wound, similar to the one in Taye’s shoulder. “Looks like there’s a kind of transference in what I do. But it seems I can heal wounds.”
“Are you willing to do that again to save the lives of agents who are working against the Foundation?”
“Yes,” Gillie said. “Absolutely.”
Her body might well be a patchwork quilt of damaged flesh by the time they finished this war. That was fine. It would be so worth it. The people who fought against the Foundation needed her, and it would be a different kind of healing, cleaner and more satisfying.
“Sweet. Let’s finish your hair and then we gotta scram. Your new life awaits.”
CHAPTER 13
“
I wonder why
they decided to call you Crow,” Silas said.
Oh, Taye knew he wasn’t supposed to admit to knowing the man’s name. But this guy had been his prison warden for years, though he hadn’t been anything like coherent for most of them. And in the end, Silas had played an instrumental role in their escape.
He looked different these days. Not bald for one thing. He’d added ink. But there was life in his black eyes now; they were no longer the abyss where all hope went to die.
They both had their cases full of credentials, papers, cash, and weapons . . . and more important, their first target. After six hours of driving, they stood outside the warehouse. From the outside, it looked like any other abandoned building on the docks with broken windows and rusted panels. According to Mockingbird’s data, it hid a facility similar to the one in Virginia, although it had fewer subjects and staff.
The sky was black, moonless, no stars either. A fine mist of clouds dotted the darkness, threatening rain, and a seaweed and dead-fish stink assaulted his nostrils, mixing with the smell of diesel fuel. It was almost time.
Leaving Gillie had just about killed him, but that was the deal. What she did past this point was up to her. Taye did have faith they would look out for her, though. Probably better than he could. These people had stayed a jump ahead of the Foundation for a long time, and now they were striking back. That took intelligence and organization.
“No idea. Why did he decide to call you Hawk?”
“It’s a bird of prey,” he answered, as if that explained everything, and maybe it did.
“Then I guess he thinks I’m a death bird.” Shit, MB was more right than he knew. Before they went in, though, they needed to clear the air. “Are we supposed to pretend we don’t know each other? Clearly we have . . . colorful history. How does he know I won’t lose my shit and fry you like a chicken?”
The other man shrugged. “You want an apology? You’ve got one. But you can’t hate me more than I hated myself.”
When Taye examined his levels of hidden rancor and resentment, he realized he bore none for this man. The chip in his head had left Silas helpless to fight back. If a person did terrible things with a gun to his head, it wasn’t the same as choosing that course.
So, yeah, clean slate.
He made a conscious decision to let it go.
“You were a victim, too. I get that. And you’re evening up the score . . . I intend to help.”
Hawk nodded, his dark eyes showing gratitude that he’d made it simple. “Since this is your first mission, I’ll run the op. Once you’ve acclimated, we can switch. Mockingbird wants to see how we’ll do as a tag-team wrecking crew.”
“You handle the personnel, I make things go boom?” he guessed.
“That seems best, though I’m all for you watching my back.”
“And vice versa.”
Hawk nodded. “I’m good with that. Shall we move?”
“Why don’t we wait until midnight? In the Exeter facility, they pared down the staff for third shift.”
The other man checked his watch and then nodded. “Another half hour.”
“What kind of resistance can we expect inside? The info was a little sketchy.”
“It always is. The last place I hit had some orderlies, no professional guards. Most of the subjects couldn’t be saved.”
“Too wounded or mentally wrecked?”
“Both.”
That could so easily be him or Gillie. The pain in his stomach jacked to excruciating—one day soon, he needed to get some pain meds, as it would soon become more than he could manage through willpower and determination.
“How do you fucking do it?”
“I tell myself, every place like this we find and shut down, that’s more resources they lose. It has to hit a tipping point soon . . . they can’t continue like this. The government’s already getting interested.”
Taye wished that made him feel better. Sadly, he could imagine the government picking up where the Foundation left off. “I hope you’re right.”
“Let’s circle around and start taking out the cameras. That way we’ll be ready to move at the witching hour.”
“Roger that.”
They crept along rows of shipping containers, all marked and coded. Some looked like they hadn’t been touched in years. At the back of the warehouse, Hawk gestured silently at the first video camera.
“You want that blown up or for me to make it loop?” He could do both, something he suspected the Foundation still didn’t know.
“Damn.” Hawk drew the word out as he considered. “Looping would be best if you can configure it so it doesn’t stop before we strike inside.”
“As long as they’re not too observant, it should work. The time of night is on our side.”
Taye built the image in his head and then transferred it to the camera. He didn’t know exactly how that worked, but it felt like an electrical surge. The air crackled a little as he executed the maneuver and it left his fingertips smoking a bit. That dark mass inside him swelled a little more. Knives sharpened against his stomach lining; it had been damn near impossible not to show how much he hurt in front of Gillie. These days, he didn’t even want to eat. But he could hold it together through six missions.
Hawk gave him a thumbs-up. “There are two more, but as long as we angle our approach, I don’t think we need to mess with them. We can slip in on this side.”
“Sounds good.”
Any excuse not to power up more than he had to. Burning the candle at both ends might yield a bright, bright light, but it was fucking hell on the wax.
They crept along the blind spot to the back of the warehouse. Here, oil had spilled not too long ago; it pooled on the pavement in oily rainbows. Rusty barrels stood watch on either side of the door, probably in hopes of camouflaging the fact that the door itself was brand new, shiny metal in a building that had seen better days.
“What kind of security are we looking at?” he whispered to Hawk.
“Complicated. I need you to fry it.”
He didn’t need any extra juice for this. Throwing out a hand, a blue ripple trailed from his fingertips to the keypad beside the door. It shorted and the door clicked open. “Alarms?”
“Silent. They’ll be ready for us from here on in.”
Even his time down in the Exeter facility hadn’t prepared him for what he found within. Taye gaped at the rows of cots and monitors, so many human beings thrown away.
So many.
Counting, he realized there were fifty beds in here. He imagined field hospitals in war zones must look like this. Only a couple of attendants on duty in the main room; there might be other staff on premises. If he shorted out the electricity here, these people would die, no question.
But maybe the better question was, were any of them truly alive? He glanced at Hawk for a signal. The big man was busy, face pale, and at a gesture, he had the two workers on the ground. He clenched both fists, and they clawed at their throats until their eyes bulged. Then they went limp.
“Dead?” he asked.
“Yeah. I don’t leave witnesses. Unless I see hardware in their heads, I know they made the choice to be here. Money for misery doesn’t profit on my watch. Let’s clear the place.”
In the second ward, they found more cots and more orderlies. Hawk took them out even faster, but his face looked like white linen afterward. His hands shook and he popped some pills. That didn’t bode well for his long-term health.
Taye arched a brow. “You good to go on?”
“Yeah. It’s not as bad as it looks.”
“If you say so.” He followed Hawk around the edges of the room, and they went out the far door into a dark, institutional hallway.
This was a cellblock, more of what he remembered from Exeter. Here, there was wailing and the pounding of fists against walls and doors. A woman wept in soft, heartbroken breaths.
He exhaled, knowing they’d have to make a decision about all these people. He was here because they wanted him to blow the place.
“I didn’t expect so many,” the other man said quietly. “I think this place is still functional. It’s not just . . . storage.”
“Is that what you found before?”
“Pretty sure.”
“Fuck.” The idea offended him.
“They’ve come down in the world, huh? No more expensive underground facilities. But I guess even mad scientists suffer from budget cuts.” Hawk shook his head. “Let’s see if we can find the labs. Mockingbird wanted me to copy any data we found.”
Taye didn’t ask why. They snaked down another hallway, and the labs lay at the end. Light came from beneath the doors.
“It’s you again,” he said. “If I go to work in there, I’ll wipe all the drives.”
“Or fry them.”
“Either way,” he gestured at the door. “Be my guest.”

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