Chapter 34
I wake up to the third worst headache of my life and a particular personality trait.
“I’m really fucking tired of being knocked out!”
My rough, weak voice somehow manages to echo back at me as my brain is still catching up, piecing things together in fragments. Server room, data, someone hitting me. Whether physically or with some superhuman ability, I have no idea.
Then I feel it—cold metal pressed to the back of my head.
My breath catches as my chest goes tight.
Slowly, I lift my gaze to the sight of my uncle’s office. Reese is across the room, and if I thought I’d seen him in a bad mood before, I was wrong. This isn’t even anger. It’s something darker, the kind of rage that doesn’t burn hot. It slowly compresses, building pressure until it turns lethal.
Well, that’s his own fucking fault. He’s not even supposed to be here.
But I’ll deal with that later.
“Hey,” I say, giving him a weak grin because one of us has to be fucking chill right now. “Miss me?”
His jaw tightens.
When that’s the only reaction I get, I shift and try to move before quickly realizing I can’t. My arms are held tight, one on each side gripped by who I’m assuming are two of Malcolm’s Ascended.
“So sorry for being an annoying piece of luggage,” I mutter.
“Still flippant as always.”
It’s Malcolm’s voice, and it’s coming from behind me.
Well. Fuck.
He wasn’t supposed to be here this early.
My own uncle wouldn’t have been my first guess as to who’s holding a gun to my head. He sounds too calm while doing it too, which only somehow makes it worse.
Malcolm was always around while I was growing up.
I barely remember his wife who died in a bad car accident about twelve years ago, but he always showed up for holidays and my birthday.
I was almost as close to him as I was to my own parents.
He let me live with him after my mom moved to North Carolina, even if he did fail to mention he had orchestrated my kidnapping.
Okay, no time to unpack all those feelings right now.
“Hey, Uncle Malc,” I say lightly. “I’m not sure this is the appropriate way to greet family.”
The gun presses a little harder, and I stifle a grunt.
The instinct hits before the thought does.
Power. I reach for it, grabbing for that current under my skin, for the hum that’s been there since I came back.
I try to spark something, anything. To send a jolt through the assholes holding me, fry the gun, short out the entire fucking room if I have to.
But there’s nothing. Not even a flicker.
It’s like slamming my hand into a dead outlet. No resistance, no surge. Nothing.
What the actual fuck?
Oh, right. It must be that bitch Samantha that Reese warned me about. I already hate her.
For a split second, real panic cuts through everything else. Then I shove it down hard and fast because now is not the time to spiral.
“I heard you were down in the server room,” Malcolm says. “Trying to cause trouble?”
“Me? Never.”
This time, he hits the back of my head with the butt of his gun, and I can’t stop from crying out at the pain that shoots through my skull. Bright spots dance in my vision, but it was at least not hard enough of a hit to knock me out. Again.
I hear the click of another gun from somewhere beside me and squint up to see the man on my left still holding onto me with one hand and a gun of his own in the other, aimed across the room.
When I look over at Reese, even I feel terrified by the dark look in his eyes.
He’s nearer, like maybe he took two steps this way.
And he looks even closer to being one wrong move away from turning this entire building into a crater.
As I drag my gaze back to the man beside me, something in my brain clicks, as though I just opened up a file. Data flickers at the edges of my vision, pulled straight from the mess I downloaded in the server room.
KADE, ETHAN
Status: ASCENDED
Gravitational manipulation. Localized. Can increase or redirect weight and pressure within a controlled radius. Crush, pin, immobilize.
That’s…inconvenient.
If Ethan wanted to, he could drop Reese to his knees without even touching him, pin him to the floor, break bones under invisible weight. But he’s not. He’s just holding onto me, gun up. Waiting.
Which means…
Samantha is still close, and her ability isn’t selective. It’s not targeted. I don’t know how far the range extends, but it’s everything within it. Every Ascended, including me and Reese and even the rest of Malcolm’s soldiers.
Interesting. And potentially useful.
I file that knowledge away, keeping it safe for later because right now, I’ve got nothing. No power, no backup plan. Just a gun to my head and Reese looking like he’s about to start a war over my dead body.
“Because of you, you’re both in a very unfortunate position, Cason,” Malcolm says.
“Good to know I’m still setting the bar for bad decisions.”
“That’s enough,” Malcolm snaps. “This isn’t about you. It’s about Mr. Morgan here. Let’s hope he makes the right decision.”
I roll my eyes. “God, I hate being used as leverage. It’s so overplayed.”
“Cason.”
I meet Reese’s gaze at the sound of my name on his lips. It’s low like a warning. Or a plea. Maybe both.
“Don’t,” I tell him, shaking my head as much as I can with a gun pressed to my skull. “Don’t do whatever you’re about to do.”
Malcolm chuckles softly behind me. “He understands the situation better than you do.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
He doesn’t answer me, so I let it go because that’s not what matters right now.
“Don’t believe him,” I tell Reese. “He’s not going to fucking kill me. He’s lying to you to get what he wants. He’s a manipulative fucking ass—”
Malcolm shuts me up by hitting me on the back of the head again.
“Fuck!”
If I walk out of here, I’m walking out with a fucking concussion.
“Alright! Okay! Fucking stop.”
I have to squint again to see Reese through more of those dancing lights.
He looks even less convinced than before but just as furious.
Unfortunately, I’ll be equally as mad if he does what I think he’s about to do.
This wouldn’t be fucking happening if he had let me come alone like he said he would.
“Don’t,” I repeat, glaring at him. “Don’t you fucking dare.”
The room seems to go quiet, filled with tension that Malcolm lets us sit in so long I swear it’s about to make the room implode in on all of us.
Then, “Reese.”
Malcolm says it like a command, as though Reese never stopped being one of his soldiers. And I watch it happen—the exact moment Reese makes his decision.
“I’ll shut it down.”
My stomach drops, and I hang my head.
“Excellent,” Malcolm says as the pressure at the back of my head disappears.
The hold on both my arms loosens, and I wrench free immediately, stumbling forward a couple steps before catching myself.
My head is still spinning, my body still trying to catch up to being conscious again.
I don’t look at Malcolm. I don’t look at Reese.
I scowl down at the floor instead because I’m fucking pissed at them both, and I don’t trust myself not to make this worse than it already is.
Hands grab my arms again, looser this time, less force, like I’m not worth the effort anymore.
Again, I jerk out of their grip, and they don’t fight me on it.
They just guide—or rather herd—Reese and me toward the door.
I don’t look back. Not at Malcolm, not his office, not at whatever the hell I left unfinished down in that server room.
Every step out of the building feels like swallowing glass.
Elevator, lobby, doors. Then air. And the second we’re outside, Reese grabs my arm.
“Hey!”
“You’re coming with me.”
It’s not aggressive or loud, but it’s firm and final, like I never had a choice otherwise.
I rip my arm back on instinct because I’m tired of people fucking grabbing me, Reese included right now. “What about my car?”
“Sebastian will have someone bring it to the safehouse.”
My jaw clenches, but I don’t argue. I follow him to his SUV and silently hop into the passenger seat when he opens the door for me. I remain silent until about thirty seconds into the drive. That’s how long I last.
“Are you fucking serious right now?” I snap, turning in my seat to face him fully as he pulls onto the highway. “You weren’t even supposed to be there, Reese!”
He doesn’t look at me. His hands stay locked on the wheel, knuckles white. “I told you—”
“No, you fucking lied! You said you’d let me come here alone.”
“You knew I didn’t want to. You should’ve known I wasn’t going to let you walk into that place by yourself. I was only meant to be a distraction for you.”
“Yeah? And how’d that work out for us?”
His jaw ticks.
“For all we know, you showing up is what tipped them off. That wasn’t exactly subtle.
” I drag a hand through my hair and face forward again, crossing my arms over my chest and slumping in my seat with a huff.
“I didn’t even get to finish the job before I was knocked the fuck out.
I got some of it. I corrupted files and wiped what I could, but it wasn’t enough.
Not even close. And then…fuck! And then I was fucking leverage again! ”
I think that is what I’m pissed about the most. I fucking got myself killed so I could finally be able to stick up for myself, and I couldn’t even do that when I needed to.
“Cason, that’s not—”
“If you hadn’t been there,” I say, interrupting him again, “Malcolm wouldn’t have had anything to bargain with. He wouldn’t have been able to use me to get to you.”
“He would’ve killed you either way.”
“No, he wouldn’t have!”
Reese finally takes his eyes off the road to glance at me, and there’s something in his expression that makes my stomach twist. “Cason…”
“He’s my uncle. He wouldn’t have—”
“He killed your father.”
The world comes to a screeching halt.
The car keeps moving, but everything else just slows and stops. I can feel my body traveling, but I can’t see the world passing us by. It’s all just dark and frozen and…impossible.
“No.” My voice doesn’t sound like my own. “That’s not…No. That’s not true.”
“He told me himself.” Reese is looking out at the road again, his expression unreadable. “Right before you woke up.”
The truth crashes into the car and right into me. It’s heavy and suffocating. I turn my head to stare outside the passenger window, trying to focus on the trees rushing past. My hands curl into fists. My throat burns.
For the rest of the drive, there’s nothing but silence. Just the sound of the engine, the road, and that nasty new revelation that doesn’t go away. It just sits there, festering.
As soon as the SUV rolls to a stop in front of the safehouse, I’m out of the car before the engine even fully cuts off. The door slams hard enough to echo. I don’t look back. I don’t say anything. I just start walking fast, like if I move quick enough, I won’t have to feel any of it.
“Cason.”
His voice is right behind me, but I ignore it. Then his hand wraps around my arm, and I snap.
“Don’t fucking touch me!” I yank my arm free, spinning on him with enough force that I almost lose my balance. “You don’t get to lie to me and make your own plans and then drop something like that on me and act like…like…”
Like what? Like we’re fine? Like I’m fine?
I’m not.
I’m so fucking not.
My chest is tight, my head spinning, my thoughts running in circles that all end in the same place I don’t want to go.
“What do you need right now?”
The question surprises me because, yeah, I have the right to be pissed, but I’m also kind of being a dick. And he’s not being defensive or dismissive. It throws me off more than if he’d argued back.
“I need…” I shake my head and drag a hand through my hair again. “I don’t fucking know. I need…”
I need to fucking forget that my own uncle killed my father, that he could have actually killed me today. I need something loud and physical, anything that isn’t that.
“You were supposed to be a distraction, right?” I ask, my bottom lip trembling as I glare at him. “Be one now.”
His gaze darkens, and he raises a brow. “What kind of distraction do you need, Cason?”
I let out a short, humorless laugh. “The kind that’s a terrible fucking idea right now.”
“Is it a terrible idea if it helps?”
“It’s a terrible idea because I’m still fucking pissed at you.”
“Good. Means you’ve still got some fight left in you.” His mouth tilts, not quite a smile. Something more feral. “Now how’s your head?”
“It’s fucking fine.”
“Cason.”
“It doesn’t hurt anymore, I swear.”
Oddly enough, I’m telling the truth. Either it’s the adrenaline or Malcolm didn’t hit me as hard as it felt like he did.
As soon as Reese seems satisfied enough with my answer, he moves, taking a step forward with that predatory glint in his eyes that I’m quickly growing familiar with. The one that makes the air around me feel heavier.
“Don’t,” I warn as I take a step back, electricity sparking faintly under my skin. “I don’t want to hurt you, Reese.”
He doesn’t listen, stepping right into my space. “Isn’t that beautiful?”
“What?”
He moves slowly, probably because he doesn’t want to get zapped. I don’t try to stop him as his hand wraps lightly around my throat, his eyes holding mine.
“That you could bring me to my knees,” he says softly, his thumb brushing over my pulse point. “Literally and figuratively. Right now, if you wanted to. But that’s not what you want, is it?”
Reaching up, I grab his wrist, sending a shock through my fingertips, scowling defiantly at him.
Even through a hiss, he smirks. “Yeah, that’s what you want. You want to fight me? Show me what you got, little menace.”
Before I can stop him, he bends down and picks me up over his shoulder. I immediately start shouting profanities and kicking my feet, but he ignores it all as he carries me up to the house.
There’s too much tangled up inside me—anger, want, him—so yeah, I’ll make sure both of us feel all of it.