The Reckoning (Unbounded Series #4) (34 page)

Ignoring the flurry of comments and questions that predictably followed his words, he turned and left the stage, replaced by the press secretary, who began discussing possible medical advancements that might come through studying Unbounded.

Jace made a face. “They’re going to have us under a microscope.”

“Not us,” Ava said. “Patrick Mann. Be glad he’s willing. The rest of us are going to lie low until they get some legislation through. There’s going to be widespread panic, no matter how beautiful the president’s speech.”

“It was beautiful,” Dimitri put in. He gave her a steady look. “I hope he thanked you for writing it.”

Ava lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. “He did.”

“Any word about Shadrach?” Keene asked.

Stella’s face grew somber. “They found him. He’s in the hospital, and I’d like Dimitri to take a look at him. At any rate, he’ll have to face justice for his actions.”

I could still see Habid’s falling head as the closet door swung open. If Shadrach hadn’t betrayed us, would I have opened the door and killed Habid? Or would I have seen the plan in Delia’s mind and saved him? In the end, it really didn’t matter because he would have died in the explosion. “I understand why he did it,” I said. “I don’t agree, but I understand why.”

“We all know why he did it.” Ava gave me a wistful smile, and her surface thoughts told me she was thinking of our own situation with my grandmother. I’d told Ava about her bravery. It made me feel better about her death somehow. I was proud of her. We both were.

“Oh, no, look at this.” Stella switched all the laptops to another station, where a group of Hunters were beginning their own press conference. Their timing made me wonder if they’d hoped to beat the president to the announcement. I knew the Hunters’ comments would be full of hate and prejudice, but they would stop short of admitting how many Unbounded they had murdered during their fifty-odd years of hunting.

Ava sighed. “We already know what they’re going to say. Start posting about witch hunts and race persecution, linking them with current ideals held by the Hunters. That’ll help mitigate their comments.”

“On it.” Stella’s headset began blinking. “I’ll have our allies do the same.”

Ava folded her arms and stared down at us. “I think just maybe, with a lot of damage control, we’ll be okay.” Her sense of relief was palpable. Finally the mortals knew. Eventually, they’d understand the stakes and support our cause.

“You know,” Jace said, “if we survive this, we might just become in high demand. Employers won’t have to waste so much time training and finding new employees or have to pay medical or dental insurance. Different abilities will be sought for different reasons. People will be willing to pay.” He brightened. “I might even be able to get a date.”

“I think maybe we’d better leave the whole ability thing out of it,” I said. As it was, I was unsure how we could avoid an eventual caste system from forming, especially if people learned the truth about some of our gifts.

“Agreed,” Ritter said.

Stella looked up from her laptop. “That’s what I’m hearing from everyone. We already have enough challenges ahead. Walker has made some statements about abilities, but he doesn’t really know enough to make trouble—and I doubt any of us will fill him in. It will all become apparent eventually, but meanwhile we don’t need people scanning the sky for Superman.”

I glanced at Keene, because I’d been wondering if changing atoms could make levitation possible for him. He met my gaze, but when he spoke it wasn’t about abilities. “I think,” he said, “that it’s time to go home.”

EVERYONE DID GO HOME. EXCEPT
Ritter and me, who upon our arrival in San Diego at midnight, drove to the tallest hotel in the city and rented a corner room with a double balcony. We had an impressive view of the city lights from one balcony and a fabulous, dizzying view of the ocean from the other. I couldn’t get enough of it. I felt free, as if I were flying. Stella’s nanites were at work, there was no Delia between Ritter and me, and I felt ready for anything.

I did experience an occasional flash that I knew came from Delia’s memories, but I was sure that was because of what I’d seen in her energy stream rather than any psychic residue. Memories, just like those I’d gathered from other people. They might become useful one day.

Ritter approached me where I stood at the balcony railing, the slight breeze from the ocean whipping my sheer nightgown around my thighs. It was a little cold, but it was so breathtakingly beautiful that I didn’t want to go inside. He wrapped his warm arms around me and kissed my neck. I rotated toward him, loving the shudders he sent up my skin and throughout my body. As I kissed him deeply, he responded, dropping his mind shield. Everything we had become to each other was apparent in his touch, in his thoughts. Together we rode a wave of emotion.

Abruptly, he stopped kissing me and pushed his face into my neck. “I thought I was going to have to kill you,” he said, his voice low and tortured. “Permanently.”

“I know.” I lifted his head so I could see his eyes. “I would have rather you do that than let her control my body.”

He nodded. “That’s why I would have done it.”

We were silent a moment, until I said, “What now? The world has gone crazy.” We weren’t in hiding anymore, but every sign told us that it was going to be rough for a while—a long while.

Ritter’s fingers trailed over my back. “Now we pick up the pieces.”

“We’re getting pretty good at that.”

“Right now, I only want to be good at one thing.” He lowered his mouth to mine. “I’m going to make love to you all night. All week. Maybe every day for the rest of my life.”

I wrapped my arms around him. “I know.”

THE END

NOTE FROM TEYLA BRANTON:
Thank you for downloading this book and for spending a little time with me in my world! If you enjoyed
The Reckoning
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The Takeover (Unbounded Book 5)
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Ritter’s philosophy

RITTER WAS NEVER WITHOUT AT
least a dozen weapons, except during training, and he insisted we all remain constantly ready with our own weapons. If he had his way, he’d arm teachers, mothers, fathers, and every other responsible citizen in the entire nation, and train them. That way, the next time a drugged-up youth appeared in a school to shoot innocent kids or opened fire in a mall, the victims would be able to defend themselves. That went double for any attack by the Emporium. He believed—and I agreed—that a nation who allowed itself to be disarmed by its leaders was asking for domination.

END OF OUTTAKE.
Please continue to the next page for a sneak peek of
The Takeover (Unbounded Book 5)
followed by a bonus preview of
Your Eyes Don’t Lie.
Or continue to the
About the Author
section to read more about Teyla’s books.

Sneak Peek

THE CLICK OF MY STILETTOS
echoed faintly in the long hallway. The ridiculous shoes were completely unnecessary, in my opinion, but Stella was in charge of disguises, and she’d insisted.

“We want the guards looking at you, not at your credentials,” she’d said, grinning as I tried to balance on what felt like stilts. I comforted myself with the very real possibility of using the pointed heels as a weapon.

Stella was right. The guards’ eyes had been too busy with the curves of my legs under my tight red skirt to do more than barely glance at my Homeland Security ID. A good thing, since the identification wasn’t real. They should have called to verify, even though the main office had advised them of our upcoming arrival. Just in case they did check, Stella had tapped into their communications network and was ready to give them the fake approval code she’d provided when she’d set up the meeting yesterday.

I was more worried about running into an Emporium hit team than dealing with Homeland Security. Compared to the Emporium, getting the best of the US government was child’s play.

We’d known we would have to pass through a full-body scanner when we’d entered this secret facility outside Dallas, so the weapons and communication devices we carried were disguised as ordinary items.

Not to mention my shoes.

If the Emporium showed up, Ritter, Dimitri, and I might need everything we’d brought to break Shadrach Azima out of here. He was a traitor to us, but leaving him in captivity any longer, now that he was finally out of Islamic hands, wasn’t an option. He was still a Renegade, and we wouldn’t leave him for the Emporium or the American government to experiment on.

Dimitri, our healer, was dressed as an aging, gray-haired doctor, complete with a white lab coat, a stethoscope, and a medical bag in hand. I didn’t personally know any medical employees who wore white coats into a facility, rather than donning them there, but again Stella had insisted. The broad, normally dark-haired man fit easily into the role, and the guards had given even less attention to his forged credentials as a world-renowned geneticist than mine. At over a thousand years old, Dimitri had forgotten more about medicine than mortal doctors had time to learn.

Only Ritter, unconvincing in his nerdy, Clark Kent glasses and his long-sleeved, white dress shirt buttoned far too high, caused the Homeland Security agents nervousness. He towered over everyone, moving with an animal-like stealth. His longish dark hair was hidden under a light brown wig that slicked back behind his ears, and his black eyes were now blue with special contacts, all of which was supposed to hide his real identity but still couldn’t mask the killer inside. This was probably why the guard accompanying us down the hallway tracked Ritter with an alert expression and his hand close to his weapon.