The Empowered Series (Book 1): Empowered (Agent) Page 11

  “So, do I pass?” I asked Gus.

  Gus nodded at the Cadillac. “Yeah. Sorry, it’s the way things are.”

  “Yeah, I can see that.” Freaking obvious.

  Damn control freak.

  The Cadillac’s front passenger door was flung open. A pissed off looking dark-skinned woman about my age wearing cargo pants and a hooded raincoat emerged and ran through the rain to reach me. Her hood fell back from her head about halfway across. Her hair was cut short, shorter than mine, and got thoroughly soaked.

  She reached me and scowled.

  “You’d better be worth it.” Her scowl went to a glare.

  “Isn’t that up to Mutter?”

  “We all get a say.” She wiped her hair with her hand and pulled up her hood.

  “Good to know,” I said. “I like it when I get to have a say.”

  The scowl deepened. “You aren’t in yet.”

  Great, I already had an enemy. Whatever. I ignored her glare. “Now what?”

  Her face got more pissed off looking. “Grab the goods and go to the Caddy, idiot.”

  I bit back a snarl. I wasn’t going to play her game. So I went to my car.

  Of course the rain now fell even harder. It was like charging into a waterfall. I yanked the briefcases from my car, sprinted to the Cadillac.

  A rear door opened. I slipped inside, slammed the door behind me, and wiped the water from my eyes.

  Mutter sat across from me on the wide bench seat. He wore a high collared navy blue suit, not a drop of moisture on that blond mop of his. His skin looked paler than the last time I saw him and sweat beaded his upper lip. Pulling a rainstorm across the river like a yo-yo had to take a lot of you. Couldn’t happen to a nicer guy as far as I was concerned.

  A creepy looking guy wearing big, plastic-framed glasses with coke-bottle-thick lenses grinned at me over the driver’s seat. The thick lenses made his watery eyes look huge.

  Mutter nodded at the guy. “Mathilda, this is Lyle.”

  Lyle didn’t say anything, but his grin got wider when Mutter said my name.

  “Call me Mat,” I said. Lyle didn’t say anything. My eyes suddenly itched. Lyle’s face went blank, like he was suddenly elsewhere.

  “Not now, Lyle,” Mutter said.

  Lyle shook himself. “Sorry, boss,” he said.

  I was about to ask what the hell was going on when Keisha yanked open the front passenger side door and jumped inside, slamming the door behind her. She looked even more pissed off, if that were possible, and gave Mutter an ugly glare.

  “You could've just told Silco to send her over.”

  Mutter made a tsk-tsk sound. “Keisha, it’s your job to keep an eye on our newest member. I wanted you outside to cover things.”

  “I could have done that without getting soaked,” she growled.

  Mutter cocked an eyebrow. “Procedures matter, Keisha.” He turned to me, patted the seat between us.

  I slid the briefcases over.

  “It might have been easier to meet at a house,” I said.

  Mutter stroked one of the cases. “Meeting here keeps my houses safe.”

  I opened my jacket, wiggled out of it and wiped my face on the lining.

  Keisha pointed at me. “This stiff isn’t getting into our group,” she said.

  Mutter gave her a sour look. “That’s not up to you, Steel Witch.”

  I laughed. “Steel Witch? I would have thought Steel Bitch was more like it.”

  Keisha brandished a razor blade. “Shut the hell up, newbie, or I’ll carve you a new one.”

  I stared back, not blinking. Tough girl wasn’t going to intimidate me.

  “Ladies, ladies,” Mutter said after the silence had gotten real uncomfortable. “We’re all on the same side here.”

  Loyal creep Lyle nodded.

  I forced a shrug. “Whatever.”

  Keisha gritted her teeth. “Fine.” I was already looking at the driver.

  Creepy Lyle smirked at me behind his thick lenses. “You control plants, is that it?” The sarcasm was thick in his voice.

  “Sure, what of it?”

  “Not sure we need someone with such a crap power.”

  “And you are?” I asked him.

  He leered at me. “Call me Peep.”

  It hit me. That was why my eyes had itched. The creep had been looking out of them. My fingers dug into my jeans. “You're a peeper?” I kept my voice low.

  His lip curled. “Yup.”

  I jabbed a finger at him. “Look through my eyes again, and you won’t have any eyes of your own to use.” Pond scum Lyle didn’t deserve to share that power with Tanya. “You got that, Peep, the Creep?” I asked him.

  His leer became an ugly look. “Shut the hell up,” he said.

  “That’s enough, children.” Mutter snapped open the case with the money, considered the neatly bundled stacks of cash. He frowned. “Only fifty thousand?”

  “That’s what they had.”

  Keisha gave me a nasty grin. “Sure it was,” she said.

  I needed to lay things out fast. “Things went to hell during the deal because the local gang dropped their payment to half and the Tong said they’d take the shipment elsewhere.”

  I gave them the details.

  “Pretty tall story,” Peep the Creep said.

  Keisha leaned over the seat to me. “Smells like bullshit.”

  I ignored her, turned to Mutter. “You didn’t say anything about an Empowered being with the locals.” I swallowed hard. “Or the Tong carrying a nullifier.”

  Mutter shrugged. “I didn’t know they’d bring Kid Kindle.”

  The driver and Keisha both gasped.

  “That little punk was there?” Keisha shook her head. “We should have let him join us.”

  Mutter closed the briefcase, opened the second, and examined the wrapped contents.

  He snapped the second briefcase closed. “The boy wasn’t reliable. Consider what happened.”

  Keisha glared at me. “Yeah. If you take her word for it. Where would those punk drug runners get a null projector?”

  Mutter rubbed his chin for a moment. “An excellent question. They must have better connections than we realized.” He looked at me. “You used vines to break the power coupling?”

  “Vines can have incredible strength.” Sweat ran down my back. It was like being interrogated all over again.

  Mutter tapped his fingers together. “So I understand.”

  Keisha gaped. “That story is a load of bullshit, it…”

  Mutter cut her off with a sharp gesture. “That’s enough. She pulled off the job I gave her. She is now a member of this cell.” His tone was iron.

  Keisha crossed her arms, glared out the front window.

  Mutter placed the drug case on the floor, opened the one with the money a second time, pulled out a stack of bills and handed it to me.

  “Payment for services rendered,” he said.

  I blinked. Nothing had been said about money.

  Coke-bottle lenses looked amazed, and Keisha whipped back around.

  “You paying her?”

  “I am.”

  Great, now Keisha had another reason to hate me.

  But surprise, she only scowled again and kept her mouth shut.

  Mutter leaned toward me. “There is one further condition for being in this cell.”

  “What’s that?”

  “If you work for me, you obey. Understood?”

  I nodded.

  “Good. Now leave. We will be in touch.”

  Just like that, I was dismissed.

  The rain had stopped. Thank God for small favors.

  Winterfield waited for me in the same booth in the back of the same diner near I-205 we had always met at back when I thought he was just my PO.

  He wore the same windbreaker as always. I slid onto the bench across from him. It was weird to be acting out our old roles. I wasn’t hungry but he insisted I order some food, so I ordered a salad.r />
  “You ever have a reaction from eating all those vegetables?” He eyed me.

  “No.” I used to get the same shit about eating greens when I was in the Renegades, and even more in Special Corrections. I wasn’t going to tell Winterfield that I was able to wall off my special connection to plants when I ate them. None of his damn business.

  My guess was my new “teamie”, Keisha, would be just the type to continue the tradition. She seemed as much a hard-edged wiseass as Winterfield. I wasn’t going to tell her, either.

  Winterfield ignored my lack of reaction to his cutting wit. “The interview was successful, then?”

  “I have a job. My supervisor is the micro-manager type. I passed the multi-part test thing he had for me.” I gave him the CliffNotes version of what had happened.

  “Good.”

  I couldn’t help myself. “Good? That all you have to say? A bunch of people died, including an Empowered, and oh by the way the freaking Tong had a nullifier. What the hell?”

  Winterfield sipped his coffee before answering.

  “Crooks die. I’m sorry about the kid.”

  I was too, but the little maniac had been an idiot. “But what about the nullifier?” He needed to get it that the nullifier’s being there was important.

  “We knew about it.”

  “Great, and you didn’t think to tell me.”

  He shook his head. “Brandt, keep in mind we must allay suspicion.”

  “Maybe Mutter’s, but he’s not the only paranoid here.” I mentioned Keisha.

  “The Steel Witch,” he said. “She has a resentment issue.”

  “You could say that.”

  Our food arrived, and I ate my salad.

  Winterfield’s pocket buzzed and he pulled out a device that looked like a flip phone only with a larger screen. It had to be some sort of Support tech.

  His eyes scanned the screen, thumb swiping it at intervals. He made a few presses on the screen, put the device away, and took another swallow of his coffee.

  “Your “test” is all over the news,” he said matter-of-factly. “Bloodbath on the factory floor,” I think the Oregon Journal headline ran.

  It felt like someone smacked me upside the head with a fat trout. Great. “I didn’t stick around to deal with the bodies.”

  “Obviously.” His voice was acid. He leaned over the table, dropped his voice. “Did you kill any of them?”

  “No way. I was lucky to get out alive and with the goods while they were shooting each other. Why would I murder anyone? Besides, if I did, it wouldn’t have been murder, it would have been self-defense.”

  Winterfield put on his Spook glasses. “Hold still.” The demon eye lasers appeared and began searching my face.

  “Yes, I used my power,” I whispered.

  “That’s not what I’m checking,” he said.

  So, the rumor was true—Support had some kind of truth teller. I wanted to smack those glasses off his face.

  He put the glasses away. “You are going to have to be even more careful. The survivors might have fingered you if we didn’t have them.”

  I froze. “Survivors?”

  He nodded. “Two apparently, one local and one from out of town. Both in critical condition at the moment, and neither is conscious.”

  “What’s going to happen to them?”

  “They might not survive. Even if they do, the survivors aren’t going to see daylight for a long time, if ever.” Couldn’t have happened to nicer guys as far as I was concerned. He leaned forward. “Remember: stay away from your family, for their safety.”

  “Understood.”

  “I mean it. This is important.”

  “I hear you,” I said.

  I just didn’t plan on listening.

  CHAPTER 9

  I pushed my way inside Ruth’s apartment when Ava opened the door, shoving her back.

  “We don’t want you here!” Ava frowned at me, looking like a five-year-old being forced to eat her peas.

  “I don’t care.” The living room smelled of clove cigarettes. Ava’s favorite. “You know you can’t smoke in here!”

  “What you think doesn’t matter anymore.” Her mouth quivered but she kept her chin up. I took the ashtray with the still burning clove cigarette and hurled it outside as hard and high as I could. It sailed over the storage building. A moment later there was the satisfying sound of glass shattering on pavement.

  “Hey. Hey!” Ava shoved me.

  I twisted her arm behind her and forced her up against the wall. “I may not matter to you any more, but Ruth should.”

  “Mathilda, that’s enough.”

  Ruth stood in the kitchen, pale and trembling, her house coat looking two sizes too big for her.

  I let go of Ava.

  “She shouldn’t be smoking inside.”

  “You’ve bigger problems,” Ruth said.

  Ella came out the hall, rubbing her eyes. Must have been napping.

  “What do you want, Mat?” she asked me.

  “To help, that’s all.”

  I looked at Ruth. “I don’t expect to move back in,” I told Ruth.

  She wobbled, and Ella helped her into a chair. Her skin seemed even more paper-like than the last time I’d seen her. She started to speak, broke into a long, racking cough.

  Ella brought Ruth a glass of water.

  “I got a job,” I blurted out as she drank.

  She waved at me silently, wiped her mouth with her housecoat’s sleeve. “Where?”

  “For a research company.”

  “How.”

  “They wanted an Empowered.”

  Ruth sat up. “You can’t use your power.

  I paced the room. “My PO knows. He got me the job.”

  “Don’t lie, Mat.”

  “I’m not.” My face was hot.

  “I mean it.”

  Ruth always knew when I lied, damn it. But I couldn’t tell her the truth. I reached into my coat.

  The envelope of cash was bulky in my hand.

  “What’s that?” Ruth asked.

  Ella and Ava both stared at envelope. I held it out to Ruth. “It’s an advance on my salary.”

  “Mat, I won’t take dirty money.”

  “It will help you.”

  “No.”

  I thrust the envelope at her a second time. “Take it.”

  She pushed it away. “I won’t take dirty money.” She crossed her arms.

  I stomped toward the door, whirled, and flung the envelope on the floor, twenty dollar bills falling out. I stormed outside and slammed the door behind me.

  I ran down the steps. It was dark now, but my heart was in darkness already. I stalked over to the curb next to the Dasher and, head in my hands, fought to muffle my sobs.

  I did this for them—why couldn’t Ruth see that?

  I lost track of time.

  Footsteps came toward me. I looked up, and Ella, her eyes red and face tear-streaked, crossed the parking lot to me.

  I stood, feeling dizzy and angry and afraid.

  “Ava and me helped grandma back to bed,” she said, her voice small. “She's getting worse.

  No. She couldn’t get sicker, not now, not when I was starting to earn the chance to save her. “Bad?” I asked, feeling like an idiot.

  Ella nodded, sniffled, and wiped the tears from her nose with the back of her hand.

  “Very sick. But she’ll probably get better again. She…she has these episodes.” Ella sounded like a lost little girl.

  I wanted to hug her to me then, tell her big sis would take care of everything. I kept my arms at my sides. “What about Ava?”

  “She’s mad at you, but she’s also scared. Like me.”

  Damn Winterfield and his deal with the devil.

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  Ella nodded. “I picked up the money. I’ll use it to help pay for things. If Grandma asks, I’ll say I have a job, I’ve been helping her balance her checking account, so it should be o
kay.”

  “Thank you.”

  She put her hand on my arm. “Why did you leave, Mat?”

  The outdoor lights flickered on. A sliver of moon hung low over the trees to the west, just below a cloud.

  “It’s better this way.” That was all I could tell her.

  I got in the Dasher and drove off.

  In Special Corrections my best friend was a woman named Lenore. She was a lifer, but they were nearly all lifers in Special Corrections. Having a shot at parole was exceptional, and it was only because of my age when I went in—sixteen. Lenore had been in for twenty-five years. She never talked about her life outside, and never told me what her power had been. “It doesn’t matter,” she said when someone brought it up. “What matters is now, and making the most of now.”

  She had no patience for fools who got “despondent.” She didn’t care about sad, or even depressed. No, it was despondent that she held up as an example of the mindset that would ruin everything for you. She worked out each day in the yard, always wearing a red knitted cap. It was one she’d knitted herself, unlike that crap machine- made cap Gus wore. Her dark skin would gleam in the San Diego sun as she ran. She didn’t grin like an idiot at the endorphins like some muscleheads inside did. She was serene. When she got angry, she didn’t holler and shout. Her anger was like quiet thunder.

  She’d have no patience at all for the despondency squeezing my heart now. She’d probably tell me despondency could get me killed, and then how could I make up for screwing up all those years ago? I’d shout about how this sucked and wasn’t fair, I was trying to help Ruth and the twins, and they had locked the door on me.

  She’d just shake her head and tell me I was being a fool.

  I was royally pissed off from the imaginary argument in my head by the time I got back to my new place in North Portland.

  I made the arbor vitae’s outer branches pull back fast, too fast. The trees scream in my head went on and on, even after I gently urged it to close behind me. I stood there in the backyard, listening to the screaming until it finally died away. My damn anger wrecked everything.

  On the back porch I fumbled with my key in the dark and dropped it. I bent over to pick it up and the deadbolt drew back. I stumbled and fell on my butt, then jumped to my feet, heart racing. Raised my fists.

  The door opened and a shadowy figure stood there. I could just make out a hoodie. I cocked my right arm back to take a swing.