Strength (Mark of Nexus #1) (22 page)

“As it turned out, he’d only gone to get something out of the guy’s car. A bottle in a brown paper bag.” He clenched his jaw. “He slipped him a few bucks and started down the street. I guess he must’ve lived within walking distance. We waited until the coast was clear to follow and cut him off by the park.”

My throat was closing.

“Once we were sure there was no one around, Cole pulled him into the darkest line of trees, near the edge.” His shoulders shook, and I felt my brows draw together. “He hadn’t learned a damn thing in those seven years. I mean, there he was, drinking his way home.” His voice was rough and cracking; he clenched his fist. “Didn’t he feel any kind of remorse at all? We just wanted to scare him. To make him think…”

“Wallace,” I interrupted in a soft voice.

“He was getting loud and belligerent and I just…snapped. I wasn’t even thinking. I just hit him and…” He trailed off.

“You killed him.”

“Yeah.” His eyes were glossy with unshed tears as he turned to face at me. “Cole told me to get out of there. He said he’d take care of it. I didn’t know what to do. I just started running. I got home and I…I just
lost it
. I never meant to hurt him, Rena. Honestly. You have to believe me. I didn’t think—”

“I know.” I leaned over and carefully wrapped my arms around him, wishing there was something more I could do.

He stiffened, and a shudder echoed through his solid form. “Don’t.”

“
S-Sorry,” I stammered, pulling away. What the hell was wrong with me? He confessed to murder, and I hugged him?

He hung his head in defeat. “There’s more. Cole carried the body through Smiths’ field to these crude oil storage containers on the outskirts of town. They have these manholes on top that aren’t used unless the tank’s being serviced, and that could be years in between. The company pumps from the outside. There’s no need to look in there, unless—”

“Wallace,” I interrupted before he veered off course. “How do you know all this?”

“Grandpa used to pump oil. He took us out there a few times when we were younger.”

“Oh.” I chewed my lip, trying to mesh the two stories together. Their grandfather’s name was Freddy, wasn’t it?

“Cole climbed up and dropped the body inside,” he continued. “He made it home before sunrise, and Grandma woke us up for school like nothing happened.”

“Did they”—I twisted my hands on my lap—“ever find the guy?”

“No.” His eyes were downcast again. “He was reported as a missing person. Someone came to talk to us about his disappearance, but Grandma attested to the fact that we were both home and in bed. There was no evidence found that said otherwise. The search and investigation went on, but nothing ever came of it.”

“Oh.”

“It gets worse.” As he spoke, he began to rock back and forth. “That summer, lightning struck too close, and the container caught fire. You probably heard about it. It was all over the state news six or seven years ago. Crews had to come put it out, before it spread across the whole field.”

My stomach leapt up into my throat. Talk about karma. When Roman got behind the wheel that night, he cast a stone into the water—seven years later, the ripple came back to pull him under. “So, now his family will never know what happened to him.”

“Seems that way,” he answered.

I thought about it for a moment and straightened, turning to face him. “Something still bothers me.”

He met my gaze with weighted blue orbs, like he’d been expecting the objection. “What’s that?”

It was going to sound stupid, and I hated to drudge it up again, but it didn’t make sense. “You killed him…with one punch?”

His expression turned grim. “That’s the other thing I need to tell you.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

The wind picked up, and I burrowed even deeper into his sweatshirt. Though it’d gotten colder, beads of chilled perspiration were starting to form along my hairline.

“This probably goes without saying, but you have to promise to keep this to yourself,” Wallace said, carefully regarding me. “I’m serious.”

“Okay.” I gave him a strange look, holding my hands up in defense. “What? I get it.”

He drew in a deep breath and looked up at the darkened sky. “Remember the bruises?”

What did that have to do with anything?

“The bruises.” He gestured toward me with an impatient sweep of his hand. “Your shoulders, your—I don’t know—anything else I’ve touched.” He tilted his head and looked at me. “Let me see your arm. The one I grabbed earlier.”

“My arm?” I quirked an eyebrow and brought my arm around the blanketing of his sweatshirt. “You don’t think—”

“Roll up your sleeve.”

“Geesh,” I commented, tugging at the soft, black material. “It’s just…” I trailed off, staring at the red, slightly swollen handprint on my forearm. “Oh.”

A rueful expression marred his handsome features. “Do you get it now?
That
is how it happened. I have trouble restraining myself.”

“You mean, like, latent anger or something? Something you express with excessive force?” That actually sounded halfway intelligent. Why didn’t I think of that before?

“No.” He closed his eyes for a long, agonizing moment while I waited with suspended breath. “What I’m trying to say is that I have these gifts—
curses
, really—that I’m trying to deal with. One of them is an abnormal amount of strength.” His eyes opened the slightest crack, like he was trying to gauge my reaction.

My reaction, of course, was a
WTF?
face. “You’re telling me you have some kind of herculean superpower?” I asked. “You’re so strong that you can’t control yourself?” Nervous laughter shook my shoulders, and I did my best not to roll my eyes. “Anything else I should know?”

“I’m an empath.”

Oh, for the love of all that was right in the world. “So, you’re not really going to tell me, are you?”

His eyes darted to mine, and his pupils turned to pinpricks. “You don’t believe me?”

“Believe you?” I leaned back, giving an awkward half-grin. “You’re not serious.”

“You’re scared,” he said, staring me down. “You’re so terrified that you’re suppressing it. The denial, the laughter, the fidgeting—you don’t want to let yourself believe it.”

I opened and shut my mouth, unable to respond. His tone left little room for argument.

“I found you because, for whatever reason, I’ve become attuned to you. I don’t need to see you or to be in your presence to know what you’re feeling. I’ve lain awake nights that you’ve lain awake, just because you were upset over something. From the moment I met you, I haven’t been able to turn it off.” He ran his hands back through his hair. “I don’t know why, so don’t bother asking. I didn’t know what was going on when I came looking for you. I just knew you were scared, and I had to find you, okay? That’s why he hurt you, and that’s what brought me here.”

My ears rang, and a colored edge blurred my vision. It didn’t make sense. Any of it. “What are you saying? T-That you’re not human?” I grasped at the wall for support. “Why are you doing this?” I was getting dizzy, really dizzy. “That’s how you…? Because you’re… you’re…”
Wait.
“Then Cole…?”

“He’s fast, isn’t he?” he asked in a quiet voice, adding, “He heals fast too.”

“So, that’s how he—”
No.
I couldn’t even consider it. I had to stop this conversation before it got out of hand. “Tell me you’re kidding.”

He didn’t answer.

“Wallace,” I raised my voice, pleading and demanding in the same breath. “Tell me you’re kidding.”

Nothing.

“Say something!” I shouted.

“What do you want me to say?” His sharp gaze sparked with electricity, and he pressed his lips into a mulish line. “That I’m a monster? That I’m something you shouldn’t have to deal with?” He worked the muscles in his jaw in an obvious attempt to control himself. “I won’t give you a reason to run, Rena. You’ll have to make that decision for yourself.”

I let out a breath I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding. “Then
what
are you?” I raked a hand back through my hair, tearing my gaze from his. “I think I deserve to know that much.”

Silence, dense and obtrusive, slithered between us. Its coiled passage left me unnerved, anxious. Was I prepared for this?

“I’m a Dynari,” he said. “I come from a line of people with gifts that exceed human limitation.”

My cheeks tingled, and I knew the color was slowly draining from my face. Only one word escaped my throat. “How?”

“I don’t know. There’s no known origin of the Dynari.” He paused, furrowing his brows. “At least, not that I’ve ever known. Even on our family crest, it just says, ‘
Divina sum stirpe.
’”

“Divina stirpe?”

“It’s Latin,” he explained, reluctantly meeting my gaze. “The way my grandma explains it, it means ‘I am of the divine bloodline’—some kind of arcane influence from my ancestors.”

I couldn’t bring myself to respond. My words had completely and totally run dry.

“Look, I know it seems like a lot right now, but I need you to believe me. You’re the closest thing I have to a best friend, and I don’t want you to be afraid of me. Ever. We may call ourselves different things, but deep down”—he thumped his chest over his heart—“we’re the same, where it counts, aren’t we?”

It took me a moment to find my voice. My brain was too busy misfiring signals, flooding my system with adrenaline. “How many of you are there?”

“I don’t know,” he answered, rubbing at the back of his neck. The frustration that had been etched into his brooding features was starting to fade away, replaced by exhaustion that lined his eyes and tugged at his mouth. “I’ve got relatives that I’ll probably never meet, just like anyone else. They’re scattered all over, and God only knows what they’re capable of. Grandma says the bloodline has been torn asunder over the years.”

My leg was pumping so fast, I had to slide a hand down my thigh to steady it. “And these abilities, they all manifest differently?”

He hefted his shoulders, looking tired beyond reason. “It seems that way.”

“Oh.” I felt numb.

“I just wanted you to…” He trailed off, abruptly rising to his feet. Alarm tightened his jaw as he hissed a sharp breath, clutching his left eye. “J-Just…” He ripped a key ring from his pocket and held it in front of my face, letting the keys dangle. “Go lock yourself in my truck. Now.”

I stood up alongside him. “What? Why?” My heart was racing again. Were we in danger? “What’s going on?”

His gaze turned a little frantic as he surveyed the area with one eye, searching for something. A split second later, he thrust the keys into my hands and made for the alley. “Just go!”

I jerked at his tone and clenched the keys in my fist, cutting a jagged groove into my palm. Had I said something wrong? The whole thing was a lot to digest, let alone believe, but I was pretty proud of the way I’d handled it. I hadn’t even freaked out.

Yet.

My shoes felt like cement as I watched him disappear around the corner. Lock myself in the truck? Why? What was he trying to protect me from?

I crammed the keys into my pocket and looked around. Only half of the streetlights were lit, lending to the rough, industrial atmosphere. Nothing had changed in the past minute. How could we be in danger?

I glanced back at the door. There was no way I was going to get Cole, even if there was some kind of threat. If this were a horror movie, that would make me the naïve virgin who ran back upstairs.
Like hell.

I took a deep breath and stepped out into the rain. With a quick tug, I draped the hood of his sweatshirt over my eyes like a cowl. Now what? I had a thousand thoughts racing through my brain, and not a single one of them provided a course of action.

Guilt clenched my stomach as I shoved my arms into the sleeves and rolled them up, before zipping the sweatshirt from my thighs to my neck. Wallace didn’t have protection from the rain now. He was going to get soaked, and for what? Was it for my sake?

I skirted the building, making my way toward the edge. The bricks abraded my palms like a slick, petrified sponge, and I grimaced. Did the rain even bother someone like him?
Oh God.
What was I saying?

Okay, okay.
The plan was to take a quick look on three. If Wallace had already lost me, I’d take it as a sign and go off in search of the truck. If he was there, I’d confront him. That was all there was to it.
One…two…

Three!

My heart hammered in my chest as I peered around the corner, and my gaze locked on his crumpled form. It was dark, but I could make out his rocking silhouette, knelt down on the pavement. I opened my mouth, poised to call out to him, when a tortured scream echoed between the two buildings.

“Wal—” A hand clamped down on my shoulder, and I jumped back.

“Leave him,” Cole said, watching blank-faced as his brother writhed in pain.