Power-fried people really couldn’t sleep.
“Stay with me, Teresa, I’ve got you,” he whispered as we continued to float along. Far from the odors of smoke and blood and motel deodorizer.
Five
William Hill
D isinfectant—the worst possible smell to wake up to—greeted me when the fog finally lifted. It took some effort to peel my eyelids apart. They felt weighted down, glued together. I licked my dry lips and tasted something sticky over the cut. A stark, white ceiling loomed above me, and the gentle bleep of a monitor kept me company. Had Gage taken me to a hospital?
I tilted my head and something on my neck pulled. My fingers explored upward and found a taped bandage. A monitor was attached to a cord, which led to a plastic tube clamped down on my index finger.
Except for a dark green door and matching plastic chair, the room was empty. No windows, no other furniture. Probably more dials and gizmos above my head. I had no energy to twist around and look. My stomach growled, reminding me that I was alone and didn’t know how much time had passed.
I needed to get someone’s attention.
I felt around for some sort of call button or remote controland came up dry. Fine, I’d do it the hard way. With a snap of my fingers and flick of my wrist, a walnut-size lavender orb zinged across the room and cracked against the center of the green door. Just like a loud knock. I was getting the hang of this. Less than ten seconds passed before the door opened. I tensed, no idea who to expect.
Gage entered first, dressed in black slacks and a green shirt. He faltered just inside, his face brightening into a relieved grin. Dark smudges colored the skin beneath his eyes, betraying lack of rest. Bits of silver had sparked in his hair—something new since this morning. Or yesterday, whenever. Just seeing him there eased some of my tension.
A second man entered behind Gage, wearing a form-fitting gray jumpsuit that contrasted sharply with his ebony skin. Thick muscles rippled beneath the suit. Even his jaw looked strong, able to crack nuts with the slightest pressure. As strong as the rest of him. His name fell easily from my lips. “William,” I said.
“Hey, princess,” William Hill replied. A shy smile stole across his face. Alias Caliber, as a kid William had been the most easily spooked strongman I’d ever met. He used to shriek when Renee slithered her superflexible feet under the bathroom door. Renee … I hadn’t thought of my childhood best friend in years. Was she still alive? On her way here, wherever here was?
William stood across from me like the stone statue of a Greek god. He had been twelve when I saw him last, nearly as tall at that young age, but leaner and less muscular. Even without his superstrength, he had been keeping in shape, andlooked like he could pick me up and snap me in half without breaking a sweat.
“Where are we?” I directed the question at Gage.
It was William who answered: “Corps Headquarters in Century City. Between your state and thinking Specter was after you, Gage was out of his head when he got here yesterday.”
“Yesterday?”
“Yep. You’ve been asleep for almost thirty hours.”
Thirty hours. It was Saturday already. Crap.
“How do you feel?” Gage asked. He moved to the right side of the bed, carefully scrutinizing my face.
“I feel like I’ve been asleep for a day and a half,” I replied. “Was it the feedback from Specter?”
“We think so,” William said. “Dr. Seward is still running some tests, but it looks like you overloaded your system. The good news is you saved your own life, and Gage’s too. A shotgun blast at that range should have cut you in half.”
That conjured up a pleasant image. I barely recalled the blast. Mostly I remembered the pain. And the look on the possessed man’s face when he said to say hello to my dad. Vengeful and mocking. Odd. Specter hadn’t killed my father. I was told my father died at the hands of a man named