Seeker (Shadows) Page 4

  His fingers squeeze mine again as a faint smile begins to form. “If this is what our fingers feel together, imagine what it would feel like to kiss.”

  I flop back to the canvas, turning my head and burning cheeks toward the water, but keeping our hands together. My fingers touch the water again, hoping to feel something of the people we’re hunting and wishing to avoid Ocean. Even a confirmation that this is the boat we’re looking for. It’s not as if there are a shortage of boats in the water off of West Palm Beach. But I keep getting clouded by how Ocean’s hand feels in mine.

  “Don’t you want to hear the rest of the story?” I ask, not wanting to talk about what it feels like to touch him or to be frustrated that I can’t tell if it’s the right boat. Water is supposed to be some kind of super-conductor. It should be easier.

  “We’ve got to adjust sails,” he says. “You can continue the Voodoo story later. Right now, we have a boat to catch because that’s definitely them.”

  FOUR

  Micah

  Twenty-four hours ago Landon stepped sideways next to the mast of his sailboat and we’ve heard nothing. We haven’t seen a sleek Middle Men boat either, and I’m wondering what exactly is going on. Why would Landon leave us for so long when he knows we need his protection?

  And then my throat closes up as I think about the last nervous smile he gave me and how maybe he didn’t leave us, he just can’t get back. Tears well up behind my eyes, and I can’t believe where I am and what I’m doing. Being on a boat is weird enough, but shadows? Middle Men? It’s like I’ve stepped into an alternate reality that I really don’t want to be in. I’d happily trade in my gift for normal.

  I stare at the ceiling above our bed and listen to the water rushing against the side of the boat and the wind through the sails and the rigging. Both are things I never thought would feel like part of my days, but I can’t imagine going to sleep without it. The three of us are taking shifts as captain, and I need to get sleep now, while I can.

  “You’re a long ways out here,” Dean nearly shouts from his spot at the steering station, and I tense up waiting to see who he’s talking to.

  Is someone out there?

  We’ve run into quite a few nice sail boaters as we travel, but we tend to keep our distance. Our couple run-ins with The Middle Men, who seem a lot more interested in taking us by force than Landon’s dad let on, has left us cautious.

  “Yeah. I’m not a great sailor,” a guy’s voice explains. He sounds maybe our age, though voices can be deceiving. “Showing off for my girlfriend here, and I’m not exactly sure how to get back. Don’t supposed you’re headed to shore and could give us a lift?”

  There’s something eerily familiar about the voice as I scramble up the stairs to see who it is. Do I know the voice from a vision maybe? Something else?

  “His watch,” Addie whispers.

  It was the only thing I could pull from my visions that were the same on several people—the odd, smooth black watches. The Middle Men. My heart stops.

  I run up on deck, and the blond guy smiles and gives me a wave. We’ve slowed, and they’re not right next to us, but too close for comfort.

  I step closer to the edge and narrow my eyes wondering if they’re the two I saw in a vision from Landon a few days ago. “I know them. Don’t let them get close.”

  “Ah.” The blond guy’s smile gets wider. “Insighter. Look. We’re not going to grab you or anything. We’re hardly prepared.” He gestures to their boat, which is a step up from a raft. “We just want to talk.”

  I’m shaking all over, and without being asked, Addie tightens the lines and Dean adjusts our heading to gain more speed. Every once in a while I wish Landon would have chosen a boat with some serious power. But like he tells me all the time—Not only do I like to sail but we haven’t been caught yet, and I had no idea we were going to be chased when I got the thing. Besides, it’ll come in handy when we get there. I swear, it sometimes feels like nothing bothers him.

  “Landon!” I yell. “Now would be good!” I have no idea if he hears me or not, but it won’t take long for their back-up to arrive. We had a helicopter over us all night one night. Landon was exhausted the next morning after the effort it took to keep us hidden enough for their equipment, and not just their eyes.

  “Just a few minutes,” the girl says. “I’m Kara, and this is Ocean.”

  Only she looks a lot more nervous than he does. They weren’t out here by accident, and I saw in a vision how we were tied up and questioned in some big house when Landon and I first left Maine. I’m not sure if that vision is void yet or not, and I’m not about to take the risk.

  “I’m sure you know who we are, and in about two minutes, you’ll be far enough behind that no one will be talking.” I clench my teeth, and try to push off a lot more bravery than I feel.

  We’re leaving them behind fast, and the girl’s face contorts into frustration as she throws a withering look at the guy who is adjusting their sails while smiling widely. He’s so like Landon it’s unreal. That’s why his voice sounded familiar.

  None of this feels right.

  “The shadows will try to trick you. You need us,” she yells as they fall further behind.

  A gasp behind me makes my heart leap and when I turn around Landon’s sucking in air, eyes rimmed with red.

  “Landon!” I grab him in a tight sideways hug as he coughs next to me. “We need your help.”

  I glance behind me, and Landon’s gaze follows, locking on the guy as his head cocks to the side, maybe seeing what I do—they look so much alike. Not exactly, but a lot. And it’s more than that. The feeling of them is similar.

  “They’re Middle Men?” His voice is scratched like he’s been breathing smoke.

  “Yes.”

  The girl’s mouth is open in shock, and I wonder how dramatic Landon’s entrance was onto the deck of the boat. I’m too glad he’s here to care and can’t take my hands off him. After seeing him as a shadow, I knew I might not get him back.

  He sits, and I wrap my arms around him hoping that I’ll somehow be able to help.

  I can see the wide-eyed shock on both of their faces when Landon shields us, and they can’t see us anymore.

  “Well that’s just cool,” Ocean yells as we pull even further away. “Not even a dent in the water. Absolutely brilliant Landon! Well done!”

  My body releases the tension I’ve been holding on to for the past day as tears stream down my face, and I clutch Landon against me more tightly.

  FIVE

  Kara

  “This is just great.” I turn our small boat back toward shore. “It’s going to take us forever to get back.”

  I’m sure I sound like a petulant child, but I’m also sure I don’t care.

  “This is what watches are for Kara.” Ocean slides his open and asks if someone can bring out the speedboat and a few changes of clothes for each of us.

  “Now you like our technology.” I glare.

  “I never said I didn’t. I just said that this was the best route this time.” He shrugs.

  “Oh. I see.” Only I don’t see. Not really. We didn’t get them. And after watching Landon sprawl onto their deck, I’m guessing he was able to cross over into shadow people territory. This is not good.

  “It’s not always about getting the end result as fast as possible. If we want them in The Middle Men, we can’t just go grabbing them.” He’s sitting comfortably on the canvas stretched between the pontoons, his forearms resting on his knees.

  “It’s worked before.” I widen my eyes knowing he can’t contradict me. I’m also not ready to tell him we have some serious time constraints.

  “Fine.” He shifts his weight as he adjusts his hold on the rudder. “But we maybe gave them something to think about, you know? We didn’t come after them. We didn’t show up in two thousand dollar suits to have a little “informal chat.” We just said we wanted to talk and then you warned them about shadows. I don’t know. I don’t th
ink that went all that bad.”

  He’s totally missing the point. “You’re totally missing the point.”

  “Kara.” He rests a hand on my shoulder, and as the energy of him pulses through me. I find myself staring at his lips before jerking away.

  “Sorry.” He shakes his head. “I think Landon’s really helping Micah’s Insight. She’d seen us. So I think we need to make decisions that are very non-confrontational so that maybe she’ll see a vision of us that won’t make them run. She can only see what’s decided, or things that are out of all of our control. So. Let’s decide to go into this as passive as possible, and see where that takes us. Cool?”

  “Now you’re sounding like hippie parents.” Only it does make sense, and I’m angry with myself for not thinking of all of these possibilities. I’ve just never gone after someone who didn’t want to be caught before. Not without being second to a supervisor anyway.

  “There’s our boat out there.” His stupid smug smile is back as he points to the sleek boat speeding our way. “Perfect timing.”

  We’re not supposed to be going back to port. In a Middle Men boat we’d catch up to, or pass Landon’s boat in a second.

  “They don’t understand,” I argue. “We’re ready to leave now.”

  “Sorry.” Samson shrugs. “Orders are to bring you two back instead of letting you go on.”

  “Gah!” I throw my bag down in the bottom of the boat. “Fine, but let’s make it quick.”

  Ocean gives me an apologetic frown as he takes one of the back seats next to me.

  I slide open my watch to see if I have any new messages but nothing’s there.

  “Hey.” Ocean runs his fingertips against mine. “We’ll still find them. We did it once, we’ll do it again.”

  My breathing stops, my heart’s already racing, and thinking about his fingertips sliding up my arms across my shoulders over my collarbone sends shivers through me. “Stop that.” I jerk my hand away.

  He holds his hands up between us in a gesture of surrender but looks confused. “Don’t you love the feel of that energy?”

  Yes. Way too much. “No!” And I widen my eyes at him and then at the back of Samson’s head because this isn’t a conversation we should be having in front of him.

  “Sorry. I thought it would help.” Ocean looks wounded, which really isn’t fair.

  “Well, it doesn’t,” I whisper just as I see Samson smirk in front of us.

  Whatever. I cross my arms again and stare off the opposite side of the boat as Ocean.

  And the several hours of sailboat ride only takes about twenty minutes. It just feels incredibly longer.

  I don’t even have time to open my mouth before Mom speaks.

  “There’s someone you two need to talk to,” she says as she opens the door of our large warehouse. Well. It looks like a second, smaller home on the property, but houses all sorts of extra equipment as well as our gym that we use for sparring and rooms for occasional lockdown.

  We move through the larger area into the lockdown corner. I’ve only been here once, and it was years ago. Dad locks eyes with us, and opens a door to an interrogation room. I wasn’t aware we had anyone in detention here, though I’m not sure if I remember the last time someone was held here, so I guess I don’t always know.

  Samson wags his brows as he holds open the door.

  “He almost convinced us to let him go,” Samson says. “Even me.” He sighs. “Several times.” It’s not easy for Samson to admit this, but at the same time, he’s a bit in awe of Mr. Prince’s talent so I’m not surprised.

  I am surprised that Mr. Prince is in detention. I obviously knew there was a mess with his daughter, Addison, but I didn’t know he was involved to the extent that we’d need to keep him here. My heart hammers at the thought of someone so entrenched in our organization, pushing to the point they need to be detained. I know there have been a few messes, but they’ve all been so far from home that whatever needed to be done, was taken care of out of country and not in our yard.

  “I’m not completely without skills.” Mr. Prince rolls up his sleeves, still perfectly pressed after who knows how long here. Three weeks ago I think was the mess in the Carolinas, so he must have been brought in then. Still the whole idea of the way he turned against us... He must have helped her get to Landon or slowed us down purposefully. Or both.

  “How are you so strong again?” I wonder out loud.

  He shakes his head. “Addison, of course. My talent never left completely, even though it’s what I’m sure the leaders would have preferred.”

  Addison. Of course. Once her talent became more developed, it fueled his. It’s a thought I had when I was sorting in the classroom earlier, but now that I’m in his presence, I wonder if he’s now off my scale.

  Also. Mr. Prince’s talent has made him a lot of money personally, so I hate that he’s acting all like The Middle Men have somehow crippled him by asking him to work alone in the world. Some of us have to make that sacrifice for the greater good.

  Samson steps outside the room giving me the signal that he’ll be right outside.

  “We’re alone?” Mr. Prince asks looking between Ocean and I.

  I nod. Trying to keep my cool because this is someone we’ve all revered and listened to and looked up to for so long. Now he’s in detention and I’m supposed to toughen up and get information.

  “And we’re not being recorded?”

  I slide open my watch to show him that nothing’s really on, that we’re not being recorded. I’m trying to take the more relaxed approach that I think Ocean would take.

  Ocean does the same, and gives me the slightest of smiles. Which makes me wish a little bit that I didn’t think this was the right way to do this because him thinking he’s right is just going to add to his smug attitude. At least I can say I’m trying to get along.

  Mr. Prince will see past any BS I try to push off, so I figure direct is best.

  “What do you know about your daughter and where she’s going?” I ask.

  “I know a lot of things about my daughter. I know that she’s a lot stronger than she thinks, and that maybe she’s getting an inkling of that power now. I know that she’s thrown away two hundred dollar jeans because she didn’t like where they’d been. Is that what you’re looking for?” A corner of his mouth quirks up, and he’s still completely unbothered.

  Ocean and I are silent.

  “You do realize that you’re sitting in the chair that’s my specialty, right?” He stares.

  Right. Mr. Prince has questioned probably more people than anyone else in The Middle Men. Manipulator. I’m suddenly not sure why my parents asked me to come in here. Did they honestly think that he’d tell me something he wouldn’t tell them?

  “You know that she’s headed south, right?” I retort. Anything to hide how completely intimidated I am being in the room with him.

  Ocean blinks a few times and glances my way, probably because he doesn’t know the implications yet and is trying to hide it. If he’d have let me finish my story earlier, he’d get it.

  “Good for her.” Mr. Prince leans back and crosses his arms.

  Good for her? He can’t possibly mean that. He’s just better at interrogation than I am.

  “I don’t know if you understand the seriousness of your situation,” I say as I stand. I’m not sure if I understand the seriousness of his situation. What will they do with him? It’s not like we can let him go.

  “Since I’ve been in your chair many times, I’m actually wondering why I’m still alive. So, I would say yes, I understand the gravity of my situation.” His eyes bore into mine and then he checks Ocean’s reaction, which means I check Ocean’s reaction.

  Ocean’s jaw is clenched, and even though I don’t know him well, I can tell he’s pissed and maybe a little shocked. I’m a little shocked. Mr. Prince has interrogated other people and is wondering why he’s still alive? Does this mean that The Middle Men have… No. Prince is trying to
fluster me. Trying to make me think The Middle Men would do things I know they’d never do.

  “I figured that the way I was half attacked simply because I wanted my daughter to make her own decision as to whether she worked for The Middle Men or not, that you wouldn’t bother keeping me around for all that long. So yes, my dear, I absolutely understand the seriousness of my situation.”

  Instead of letting the implications of what he’s saying soak in, I feel the need to defend The Middle Men. The actions we take—I still think he’s just trying to make me believe the impossible.

  “The Middle Men made you who you are.” A rich, powerful businessman with connections all over the world.

  His hand slams down on the table making me jump, which makes me cringe because I’m supposed to be the one in charge here.

  “They made me who I am?” His voice booms. “The Middle Men half tied my hands behind my back. I made me who I am.”

  Ocean’s jaw flexes again as he grabs his watch and turns for the door.

  I follow realizing what I already knew—Mr. Prince isn’t going to help us, and I’m glad it’s not my decision whether or not he sticks around.

  The moment I step outside the small room and the door closes behind us, Ocean’s in my face. “What am I into here?” he spits.

  “What?” Even though I’m sure this isn’t going to go well. I’ve been around this organization my whole life and understand the imperative need for secrecy. None of us want to be put to work for the government—that would mean we’d end up as war tools like everything else they spend money on. We have enough “good deeds” on our tally for me to know we’re in the right. And to know we’re allowed a lot more freedom than we would be as government pawns—which is exactly what would happen if we were found out.

  “How can that man just be held here, and how can he be surprised he’s still alive?” Ocean’s breathing hard, and I’m wondering if it would be better for all of us if he walks away.