expression, then eased. âI will admit to the jackass part, but for the record, I never expected or wanted you to fall on your face.â His eyes narrowed. âAre you reading minds now?â
âDonât be an idiot. Even if I were, which Iâm not, your mind would be the last place Iâd inhabit.â
She darted to Lukeâs side and followed his gaze around the wall toward the opposite end of the compound. A twenty-foot section of the two-story building in the distance spit flames from every window. Black smoke rolled toward the sky, and somewhere deep inside the structure, sparks surged like a fiery volcano. Cobalt blue sparks. The kind sheâd only seen one other time in her life. Five long years ago.
Sheâd been with Luke then, too.
That reality overwhelmed her. The questions, the repercussions, the complications so vast she simply couldnât process them in the moment. She knew this incident was about to change her life, yet she had no idea how. And, worse, she had absolutely no control over that change. She was on a raft thrown in the rapids with no oars. Hold tight for the ride. Pray you donât drown on the trip.
Every priority in her life altered. Instantly.
Screw following orders. Screw killing Rostov. She had to find that boy.
TWO
K eira jabbed at the radio on her shoulder. âSS to base. Update . Over.â
She needed more intel to locate the children. This ranch house was a sprawling campus of additions and outbuildings, silos and barns. The kid sheâd come for could be anywhere.
âBase to SS. Abort mission. Repeat, abort mission and return to base. Over.â
âThatâs more like it.â Luke started for the ladder, reaching for Keiraâs sleeve when she didnât immediately follow. âCome on, Sniper Girl. Partyâs over. Weâll figure this out on the ground.â
âNo.â She pulled back. âI have to find that kid.â
âKeira.â Lukeâs voice fell to a warning tone. âThink about this. You and me on top of this inferno, that lab, those sparks. You think this is all coincidence? Are you sure there even is a kid?â
Damn him. She hated the way he dug into her insecurities. Worse, she despised the fact that he could be right. âNot everything in life is a conspiracy, Luke.â
But because she fully realized this could be one of those times, Keira crouched, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly as she closed her eyes. As the chaos around her faded, she laid her palm against the black-asphalt roof shingles. The tiles burned from hours searing in the sun and singed her skin. She blocked the pain. Focused. Listened.
Screams rattled inside her head. The screams of a child. Or . . . children. She winced, searching for their originâpresent or past? To be sure these were voices and not her own memories, she searched deeper.
Iâm scared. I wanna go home.
Whereâs my mommy? I want my mommy.
Definitely statements from the present. Aside from Iâm scared , those words would never have come out of Keiraâs mouth as a kid.
Which meant the children were still inside these burning buildings.
A rolling wave of fear rocked through her, leaving nausea in its wake. Not her fear. The collective fear of the children inside. It tilted her equilibrium and she fell forward, hit the asphalt with her knees. Fresh sweat broke on her face in one burst of dampness. She sucked at the hot desert air to keep from retching.
âAre you okay?â Lukeâs voice came from over her shoulder.
Anger helped distract her from the queasiness. Why so many new powers all at once? Why here? Why now? Even back when she and Luke had been far more connected, her powers had never ramped this aggressively.
She ignored the nagging questions and listened harder, searching through the cries and screams and voices for something more.
Take the children to the south tower.
A manâs voice. With
Jared Mason Jr., Justin Mason