‘Just do as I tel you and then this wil be over,’ he told me, tucking my hair behind my ear.
I was shivering, despite being dressed in my ski suit. My body was acting like it had a fever it was trying to throw off. Nothing felt right. Gator took up position a few feet further back, sheltering behind a barrier of crates. I could hear him checking the magazine in the gun.
Was he here to defend me? I couldn’t remember. I wasn’t even sure who he was. What was wrong with me? My brain felt like cotton wool.
After what seemed like an age, there was a scuffling sound at the far end. The sliding door edged back a few inches.
‘It’s us. We’ve come alone like you demanded.’ It was Xav Benedict. My enemy.
‘What have you done with Sky? Is she al right?’
His brother, Zed. I knew him, didn’t I? Of course, I knew him. He was my boyfriend. He said he loved me.
He doesn’t love you—he’s just playing with you.
The words floated in my brain but I couldn’t remember why I thought that.
I kept quiet, drawing my knees up to my chest.
Sky? Please answer! I’m going crazy here. Tell me you’re OK.
Zed was in my head too. There was nowhere to hide. I couldn’t help myself—I let out a whimper.
‘Xav, that’s her! She’s hurt.’
Xav held him back. ‘It’s a trap, Zed. We do this as we agreed.’
They hadn’t yet come in sight.
‘Tel us what you want in exchange for Sky and it’s yours.’ Zed’s voice was unsteady.
None of this made sense. I’d shot them. Why were they here? Why did I have to relive the nightmare?
‘Just step out where I can see you and I’l tel you,’
said Gator.
‘The thing is, we’re not stupid. You can tel us while we stay where we are.’
‘If you don’t come out with your hands up, I’l put a bul et in your little girlfriend.’
This wasn’t how it was meant to be. I’d got the gun in the struggle with Zed and shot both the Benedicts.
I’d seen it happen—it was there in my brain.
‘Zed?’ My voice was thin, quavering in the emptiness of the warehouse.
‘Sky? Hold on, baby, we’re going to get you out of this.’
Wrong—al wrong. My memory felt like a comic strip with the key frames ripped out. The Benedicts had hurt me—yes they had. Locked me in the boot of their car for hours.
‘Go a … way!’ I choked. I saw movement down the far end, the tips of someone’s fingers as they rose up from behind the container that they had been hiding behind. It was Zed.
My brain seemed to explode with conflicting emotions and images—hatred, love, laughter, torment. Colours in the warehouse went from flat to multi-toned and complex.
His eyes zeroed in on mine. ‘Don’t look at me like that, baby. I’m here now. Just let me talk to the man who’s got you and we’l get you free.’
He took a step closer.
How many of them are there? Has he got a gunon me? Zed’s voice echoed in my head again.
I don’t shoot people. The images of my hands holding the gun flicked on and off like the neon signs.
What’s wrong with you, Sky? I can see what you’re seeing. Your mind feels different towards me.
‘He has a gun,’ I said aloud. ‘Gator, don’t shoot anyone. We mustn’t. I’ve kil ed them already but they don’t die—they just come back.’
‘Quiet, Sky,’ said Gator from behind me. ‘And you, come where I can see you. I’m sure you’d prefer me to have you in my sights than your girlfriend.’
Zed stepped into plain view. I couldn’t help but devour him with my gaze; it felt as if he was alternating between two masks, one where he was kind and tender, the other vicious and cruel. His face wavered in and out of focus.
‘Now your brother. I want both of you where I can see you. Come a bit closer to Sky. Don’t you want to see what we’ve done to her?’ Gator taunted.
I had to choose. Which did I believe? Kind Zed; cruel Zed.
Zed took two steps forward, hands rock steady in the air. ‘You don’t want her. The Kel ys’ quarrel is with the Benedicts—not her. She’s nothing to do with this.’
What should I do? Who should I believe? Sky has got good instincts. My mum had said that, hadn’t she? Instincts. More than instincts. I could read people, know their guilt, tel good from bad. I’d buried it but it was there inside me under al the gibberish in my head ever since I was six. Locked it away. But now I had to reach out with my gift.
I closed my eyes, feeling inside for the door that would release my powers. I opened my mind.
My power of perception went through the roof. The sensations flowing in the room were formidable. I saw them as streams of colour. The red of excitement and a bit of black fear from behind me; the gold glitter of love and green tinge of guilt from Zed.
Soulfinder.
The knowledge was there, as deeply rooted in me as DNA. How had I not seen it? My body retuned to Zed’s note; perfect match, perfectly in harmony.
So why did he feel guilt? I probed the green: Zed felt terrible because he had let me be taken and that I had suffered instead of him. He’d wanted it to be him sitting there with blood on his face and clothes.
I didn’t know why my brain was so scrambled but I now knew where I stood.
‘Zed!’ I screamed. ‘Get down.’
The gun went off. Zed was already moving, alerted by his foreknowledge. A second crack. There was another shooter—O’Hal oran—up in the rafter, trying to pick off Xav by the door. Instead of diving for cover, Zed ran for me. I screamed—my mind playing a version of this where he had attacked me and I had shot him. But my hands were empty. No gun.
Victor. Code Red! Code Red! Xav punched the message through O’Hal oran’s shield with al the strength he could muster, broadcasting on a wide channel for any telepath to hear.
Zed threw himself over me as I sat curled up, clutching my knees. ‘Keep down, Sky.’
‘Don’t shoot!’ I pleaded. ‘Please, no!’
I sensed Gator’s aggression and determination to kil swel in a flood of red colour. Zed’s back presented a clear target, his only hesitation that the bul et might pass through and get me too.
‘No!’ With a burst of strength brought on by desperation, I used my legs to boost Zed clear. The bul et meant for his back hit the ground between us, ricocheting wildly off the concrete. Then everything went to hel . Gunshots rang out; agents burst through the door, screaming that they were FBI. Something hit my right arm. Pain lanced through me. Sirens and more shouting. Police. I curled up into a bal , sobbing.
In the confusion, someone crawled to my side and crouched over me. Zed. He was swearing, tears running down his face. He clamped his hand over the wound on my arm.
After several staccato explosions, the guns fel silent. I sensed that two presences had gone from the room—O’Hal oran and Gator. Had they fled?
‘Get me a medic over here!’ yel ed Zed. ‘Sky’s been hit.’
I lay quietly, biting down on the urge to cry out. No, they’d not fled. They’d been kil ed in the exchange of fire, their energy snuffed out.
A police paramedic rushed over.
‘I’ve got her,’ she told Zed.
He released his grip on my arm, my blood on his hands. The medic ripped my sleeve open.
‘From the looks of it, just a graze. Possibly she caught a ricochet.’
‘They’re dead,’ I murmured.
Zed caressed my hair. ‘Yeah.’
‘What happened to me?’
The medic looked up from her treatment of my arm. ‘You hit your head too?’ She saw the blood in my hair. ‘When did this happen.’
‘I don’t know.’ My eyes turned to Zed. ‘You locked me in the boot of your car. Why did you do that to me?’
Zed looked shocked.