Grim Vengeance Read online

  Emma paused, then, “We all have skills to get us through this. If we get to a hospital and they give us issues after Shawn and Lucas are stable, you can freeze time and we can leave.”

  “That’s a hell of a big ‘If,’ Emma.”

  “I’m aware,” she said. “But we have to try. And getting to Astoria isn’t going to cut it.”

  “They heal fast. They might—”

  “Mari, you know it doesn’t matter if the wounds close by now. They’ve lost too much blood. Their bodies can only regenerate it so fast, and it’s not going to be fast enough.”

  Shawn smiled again as he listened to the women bicker. Everything’s so warm. He poked Isaac in the side and laughed. “Can you guys turn the air on or something? I’m so damn hot. Is Lucas awake yet?”

  Aaron, who was knelt over his clone once more, shot Isaac a terrified glance, then looked back down at Lucas once more. The man wasn’t moving. Shawn frowned. Is he even breathing?

  “Hey.” Shawn struggled to sit up. Isaac pushed him down. “Hey. Is he all right? Is he...let me go!” With a hard shove, he sent Isaac into the back doors. Mumbling an apology, he pulled himself over to Lucas and rested his head on his chest.

  I can’t tell if he’s breathing.

  Shawn lifted his arm over his head and brought his fist onto Lucas’ sternum with a thud. He listened again. No sound, no movement. He raised his hand again. Not hard enough to break him. Just enough to help. He pounded Lucas again and again.

  His friend - his brother - gasped in air, eyes flying open. Relief washed over Shawn as he fell onto his back and let darkness eat him once more.

  —-

  Ivan Vance muttered curses underneath his breath while he watched Brian stitch his wound. He shifted his gaze and glared at the blood pooling on the floor and marring his freshly shined shoes.

  “You told me not to hit them anywhere vital.” Brian, the kingpin’s most recent right-hand man, spoke low. Finishing his task, he snipped the thread he’d been using and stood. He picked up three thin metal spikes, each about ten inches long with ends tapered into deadly points.

  “I am aware,” Vance growled. “I take it you cannot end them both now?”

  “No. They’re much too far away. My power only works—”

  “Yes, yes. I know.”

  “They’ll still bleed out.” Brian tilted his bald head, crossing his arms over his stocky frame. “Draining the time stopper was smart. Letting her use up her power, then having me hurt the ones with true strength so they couldn’t attack you. Even though we didn’t capture them, we hurt them, bad. The clones will die. That’s one step closer to wiping them out. I don’t see it as a failure. Just an unfortunate and unexpected line of events that slowed your plan.”

  Vance nodded. “If I had not been wounded...” He sighed. “I did not expect Isaac to turn.”

  Brian stayed silent, fingering the tip of a metal spike.

  “Emma, yes. No shock there. You know I was going to tell her of her true role in my ranks within the year?”

  “So soon?”

  “She was showing such promise after I had Alex...prime her.”

  “You couldn’t have known he’d snap, kill that girl and Emma’s dog, make such a scene.”

  With a chuckle, Vance clasped his hands behind his back and finally stopped pacing. “Of course I knew. The man has been unstable since I met him at Lab 14. His Evo power came in handy for protection, though, regardless of his...” He waved a hand in front of him. “Emotional side. Emma’s power was much more useful to me, a greater loss than his was.”

  The door opened, and Michael stepped inside, face wary. “All good in here, sir?”

  Vance shrugged his shoulders and sat back on his couch with a sigh. “I was just discussing your sister.”

  Michael gave a knowing nod and shut the door behind him. His long brown hair was slick with sweat, which also dotted his forehead and temples. He smiled, a crooked shifting of his mouth, and jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “You may have lost Chelsea and Emma, even that creep Alex, but we’re still here, sir.”

  “I know. And I thank you both for your loyalty.”

  “So what’s next, boss?” Brian walked forward, dropping his spikes on the table nearby. A clump of Shawn’s brown shaggy hair followed, drifting silently down to join the weapons. “How do we plan on finding them?”

  “We move on to Plan B.”

  Michael raised an eyebrow. “That’s gonna get a lot of our people killed.”

  “I am aware. Luring Jaxon to me seems to be the only thing to do at the moment. Bruce failed me, Grant failed me, Isaac failed me. The telekinetic powers will not work on me, but I fear those wraiths of his can.” Vance lifted his head high. “So we leave hiding, lure Jaxon using me as bait.” He glanced at Brian. “You still have his DNA from his apartment, no?”

  His second in command nodded. “Damn right I do.”

  “Good, good. You cripple him physically, and you, Michael, you incapacitate his mind. I will put a bullet in his brain and finally end this fucking thing.”

  Chapter Seven

  Charlie exited the run-down building with Chelsea close behind. He kept an eye out for the Synths in case they hadn’t truly fled. As they approached the unconscious guards, Charlie halted, holding up a hand.

  “Want me to fry them?” Chelsea’s hands were already glowing.

  He shrugged. “Do what you want.”

  With a manic grin, she glanced around once more and knelt by the closest guard. She wrapped her hands around his throat. Her skin grew brighter until the man’s eyes flew open. He began to thrash. She jabbed two fingers into his eye sockets, instantly melting flesh, muscle, and sinew. Only a part of a scream escaped his lips before Chelsea clamped her other hand over his mouth. Charlie watched, impressed. The man’s skin bubbled and melted underneath her touch.

  The guard’s death was painful but swift. “Hurry up,” Charlie said. “There’s no way to know if there are others. Or cameras. And we don’t have the luxury of time stopping.”

  Chelsea nodded and made her way over to the second guard. Charlie clamped his hand on her shoulder and knelt when she did. He touched his fingers to the chest of the third fallen man while sucking some of her power inside, using it to kill the guard.

  Once the remaining guards were dead, Charlie scooped up their weapons, handing one pistol to Chelsea. They jogged forward and arrived at the door they had watched the Synths use earlier.

  Charlie nodded at the handle and shot Chelsea a meaningful look. Her eyes narrowed, and she reached forward. Her hand glowed again. Touching the keypad, she heated up the metal until it started dripping. It morphed and shifted until dying beeps filled the air. Charlie glanced around as she went to work on the door handle. Soon, the door was useless.

  No one waited for them on the inside.

  Staying a few steps behind his partner, Charlie walked down a long hallway with slow steps, aiming his stolen gun forward. Rounding a corner brought them face to face with two armed men heading their way. They were eliminated with a quick burst of gunfire. Charlie’s heart raced as he picked up the extra weapons, giving two more to Chelsea.

  The pair stayed silent and watchful as they progressed through the bunker. They found themselves in a large open area with a handful of people in casual dress eating what looked to be pancakes and eggs. Gritting his teeth, Charlie popped off round after round, dropping guns as their chambers emptied, watching the bodies spasm and fall as holes in bodies opened, spraying crimson splashes along the floor and walls. He didn’t even realize he was laughing until the massacre was over.

  “Breakfast for dinner? Fuck yes.” Chelsea reached out and nabbed a pancake, stuffing a few bites into her mouth. Chewing happily, she started toward another hall where she dropped the food and shot a guard running full tilt. The man staggered and cried out but did not fall. With a growl, Chelsea leapt forward and grabbed his neck, hands lighting up.

  Scratching his neck, Charlie
turned from her and surveyed the room. Only one other way to go. Carefully, he stepped over fallen, lifeless forms and peeked down into the new area. A spray of drywall showered him, followed by a loud bang. Pulling back, Charlie gritted his teeth and backpedaled, fresh weapon aimed at the hallway.

  By then Chelsea had rejoined him. Glancing around, she muttered, “Ah, shit.”

  “Use the fucking oil,” Charlie shouted right before an arm appeared and shot at them. “Now!”

  Chelsea jumped but complied. She pulled a large bottle with a long nozzle from her bag and squirted oil into her glowing hands. It heated and bubbled instantly. She dumped more into her right palm, took aim, and tossed the lit ball of oil at the arm that poked out from behind the wall again. It hit, and the man’s arm instantly caught fire. A wail reverberated through the bunker. The man fell forward, flames engulfing the rest of his body in a quick whoosh.

  “Well done.” Charlie put a bullet in the man’s head. “Except now he’s blocking our path.”

  Chelsea snorted, an unlady-like sound that put Charlie on edge. “Here.” She grabbed his arm.

  Drawing some of her power into his body, the pair stepped over the burning corpse. Even though fire caressed his legs and feet, Charlie didn’t feel a single thing, not a twinge of pain or heat. He chuckled. I knew I kept her alive for a good reason.

  Together they stalked forward. He kept his hand on her shoulder, feeling her power simmer low in his chest. She held the bottle of oil at the ready, face eager, no doubt wanting to toss some more fire at unsuspecting people. A few more did attack them, but they were easily eliminated with a spray of bullets. Finally, it was just the pair of them standing in the silent bunker before a large metal door.

  Charlie reached forward, one hand still on his partner’s arm. The moment his fingers brushed steel, he willed them to heat up. Just as the door had done at the entrance, this one began to waver, bubble, then melt. It took much longer due to its size, but eventually, it swung open, warped and useless.

  “Good afternoon.” Ivan Vance’s gun roared, and Chelsea spun, blood spurting from the top of her shoulder. Her hands lit up and she stumbled toward the Russian, who easily twisted away from her grasp. Taking advantage of the man’s distraction, Charlie surged forward and gripped the semi-automatic pistol while keeping his hold on Chelsea. Using her power, he melted the weapon before the Russian could react.

  A force slammed into him from the left. Grunting in surprise, Charlie went down, toppling over Chelsea, who still leaked from her wound. Her teeth were clenched, face strained. He landed on top of her, throwing his arms up just as a bald man flung himself forward wielding a long metal spike. Charlie’s breath left him momentarily as the weight of the other collided against his chest. The tip of the man’s weapon came dangerously close to piercing his neck, but Charlie strained his arms, holding the man at bay.

  He smiled despite the struggle.

  Sucking more of Chelsea’s power into him, Charlie’s hands lit up. He was holding the man’s arms, the sleeves of his long-sleeved shirt bunched in his grip. The fabric began to smoke and quickly caught fire. The bald man’s eyes widened, and he dropped the spike. Charlie shifted his head away, and the tip narrowly missed impaling his throat as it fell. Pushing the cursing man off of him, he grabbed the weapon and drove it straight through his eye and into his brain with a single thrust.

  The man didn’t make a sound. His body went limp, and he fell to the side.

  Charlie was in Vance’s grasp before he could even recover. He was lifted off of Chelsea with ease.

  “You think you can come into my place, kill my people, and live?” Vance spun Charlie around to face a new man with long brown hair and familiar blue eyes. “See now, podonok, now we make you suffer.”

  The long-haired man clasped his hands behind his back and smiled. “I want you to stop breathing. Hold your breath.” His head tilted to one side. “Hold it, and don’t let it out. Not when your lungs start to burn or when your vision swims.”

  Charlie gawked at him, panting slowly but heavily. The Evo power he drew in from Vance swelled through his chest. “Nah.”

  The man blinked, and his brow furrowed. “I...” His eyes darted up and behind him. “I want you to—” His words were cut short when Chelsea gripped his arm. She held a hand inches from his face. Her fingers lit up, and the man flinched away, sweat already forming on his face.

  “Let him go,” she snarled at Vance. “Or I’ll melt this fucker’s skin off his bones.”

  “No, you let me go,” the man said softly, turning to look her in the eye.

  Chelsea instantly dropped her hands and backed away.

  Holy fuck. He has the same power as Emma. The same eyes... it can’t be. Charlie stopped struggling in Vance’s hold. “Wait. Hold on a minute.”

  Vance’s right hand wrapped around his throat, cutting off any further words. Charlie flailed, scratching at the Russian’s thick fingers. He tried to speak but couldn’t. The pressure on his neck increased, bringing darkness to the edges of his vision. Desperate, he raised a hand and pointed at the long-haired man who was busy giving Chelsea another calm order. Charlie then pointed at himself and tapped a finger to his temple. Vance’s eyes flashed but continued to squeeze. Charlie pointed again at the other man, at himself, at his forehead.

  Suddenly, the pressure diminished. The Russian glared at him with fury, but Charlie could also sense curiosity. He choked, his left hand still pulling at Vance’s hands.

  “Emma,” he rasped.

  At that, Vance let him go entirely. Charlie dropped to one knee, head bowed, and coughed for what seemed like hours. He heard the Russian’s voice, distant, ordering his man to stand down. He sucked in breath after breath until his chest stopped heaving and his sight returned to normal.

  Suddenly, he was upright again, toes of his shoes bumping against the floor. Vance held him up by the front of his shirt, which slid up, exposing his stomach, bringing an eerie sense of fear to Charlie.

  “What about Emma?” the Russian growled. His breath smelled of tequila and old cigar.

  “I can find her.” Charlie released his grip on Vance’s wrists and held his hands up in a submissive gesture. “I know where she is.”

  The kingpin’s eyes narrowed and he slowly lowered Charlie to the ground. He released his shirt and crossed his arms. “And?”

  Charlie’s mind flew over the things he’d learned the moment he had brushed against the mind reader Synth back in Boston, back when he’d been hunting them down, before he discovered Jaxon was against them. The brief contact he’d made with Aaron before he, Mari, and Shawn had run off down the street in search of Emma and Isaac.

  Isaac?

  Charlie risked it. “And Isaac.” He watched as the Russian’s face shifted. It was barely perceivable, but the man’s eyes softened, and his jaw relaxed.

  Vance took a step forward, nodding his big head at Chelsea. “She is disloyal. One of mine, or used to be. But who are you?”

  The man was close, too close, but Charlie held his ground. “I’m like her, only better.”

  “An Evo?”

  Charlie smiled. “A Synth. From Lab 14. Charlie. I remember you. Your money funded almost all of the research on us.”

  “An unfortunate thing.”

  He frowned. “You knew what was going on at the lab. You donated money.”

  “And DNA. But only because I was promised they would save my son’s life. They did not. So I took an Evo and left.” Vance glanced over Charlie’s shoulder. “Came to the west coast. Life was not easy right away, but I was able to find other Evos to surround myself with. Stay untouched by my enemies.”

  Charlie laughed. “So that’s why you took Alex.”

  Vance sighed and sat on the couch a few feet away, relaxed. “He didn’t want to stay, not after donating DNA for Jaxon’s creation. He had a better place by my side, as my assistant.” He chuckled. “I remember you now. Your power. No wonder Michael’s didn’t work on you.”


  “I had no idea you were an Evo. Too close to the Synths to sense it, I guess.”

  Chelsea’s voice interrupted them. “Can we, I dunno, get on with this shit?” She stood close behind Charlie, one lit hand holding the wound in her shoulder as she cauterized her own flesh. Without a trace of pain on her face, she looked between her partner, the long-haired man, and the Russian. “We had a plan.”

  Vance shifted on the couch. “Ah, yes. No doubt to kill me. We still have to do something about that. Michael?” he addressed the long-haired man, who stepped forward.

  Charlie raised his hands. “Hold up. That’s not why we’re here.”

  “What—” Chelsea started.

  “I didn’t know you were the one in this bunker,” he lied, cutting her off.

  The Russian’s eyes narrowed. “Lies will get you hurt.”

  “It’s the truth. Look, we’ve been following Shawn and the Synths. Been wanting to take them out for most of my life, ever since the lab was...compromised. Shawn, he left me to die. He had the opportunity to help me, to save me, he heard my screams, but the moment he found out it was me pinned beneath the rubble, he turned and fled.”

  “That is a long time to hold a grudge.”

  “Yes, well.” Charlie slid a hand over his sandy hair. “While he lived in luxury, I led a life of squatting in homeless shelters, abandoned buildings, and the like until I was able to hone my power and use it to my benefit. Look.” He stepped forward, hands raised again. “We were tracking him, saw him come in here. I knew he had been fighting his psychotic brother, and I assumed Jax was inside, especially after I saw them leave injured with Shawn barely alive. I had no idea it was you.”

  Vance stood, forcing Charlie to take three quick steps back. His right foot landed on something round, and he nearly fell, waving his arms to regain his balance. Glancing down, he saw another one of the bald man’s spikes on the floor. He stooped and picked it up. The metal was smooth against his fingers. Looking up, Charlie saw the Russian’s pale blue eyes studying him. Not a single trace of fear was in his gaze.