Avenger (21 page)

Less than a heartbeat later her bike crested the final ramp that would send her airborne over their heads.

“Look!” Raven yelled.

Nikki took the ramp like a pro, tires straight and smooth, and a second later she was above them. All seven Halflings watched as Nikki sailed over. But awe quickly turned to panic when Vegan yelled, “Nikki! The trees!”

Nikki snapped her wings open, and gasps filled the air around Mace. Stretched out alongside her bike were the most brilliantly beautiful red wings trapped between sky and sunlight. She angled them, and the momentum of her bike slowed as her feathers fought the wind.

Vegan was now screaming excited words that got lost in the others’ jumbled yells. Behind Mace, Winter’s voice broke through. “I knew it. I just knew there was something different about her when she returned.”

Nikki landed on the other side and slid to a stop just short of the tree line and a good fifty feet from the finish line. She removed her helmet and shook out her hair before turning toward the group with a “What did you think of that?” glint in her eye.

Glimmer clapped wildly, Zero gave her a thumbs-up, and Vegan was off her bike, jumping up and down squealing.

Nikki’s face broke into a sunbeam-strength smile.

A grin Mace understood. She finally felt like she belonged, like she was a part of their group. Maybe now she could move forward with her life and ditch the whole idea of poking into her past. Mace hoped so, because one thing he knew: Rummaging around in her past would bring nothing but pain and offered nothing but death.

Early the next morning, Nikki took Mace’s car and drove down County Road 182. Though nearly forty miles from home, she knew these back roads from motorcycle trips last summer. Gold-polished nails — compliments of Glimmer — winked at her as they caught the sunlight. The ride the day before hadn’t wrecked the prissy manicure like she thought … which was both good and bad, because she sort of liked looking down and seeing golden jewels at the end of her fingers but sort of hated how girly liking them felt. Kind of the same divided feeling she’d had after the ride yesterday—being on the bikes had been awesome, though at the end of the day, there were still questions that needed answers. Late last night she’d decided it was time to take a road trip and confront Zero.

The first time Mace took her to the underground, she’d
slept most of the way. He’d covered her eyes when they left, but not before she got a good glimpse of the area.

Sneaking out of the house early this morning proved no easy feat due to Will keeping such close tabs on her. But she’d managed, and now, after making ridiculously long circles on back trails, she arrived at Zero’s lair.

A big part of her wanted to turn back. Answers often meant consequences, and she was still getting used to the idea of being a Halfling. It wouldn’t be easy to deal with being a mutant. After all, isn’t that what they’d said the horses at Vessler’s lab were? Genetically mutated creatures. Maybe that’s why her wings were blood red when they showed up. She’d also being thinking a lot about her childhood lately. Nikki was positive her mom and dad weren’t Xians — she’d never gone to church or even cracked a Bible before meeting Mace and Raven, so if the Throne had chosen them as her caregivers, he’d made a big mistake. They also didn’t look like Halflings at all. And yet Halflings came from Halflings, so if she was her parents’ child, she must have started as a regular baby. Then there was the fact her name had been in the database Zero recovered from Vessler’s lab. Too many things pointed in the same direction. Vessler mutated her into a Halfling — it was the only thing that made sense. And that meant she wasn’t a Halfling at all.

She navigated the underground’s stairs and tunnel without bothering to turn on the lights. Each metal step clicked as she descended, tiny little warnings to turn back. At the bottom, she mustered her courage and knocked on the metal door. She waited, knocked again. And again and again for a full five minutes until Zero answered.

“Did you think I would just eventually give up?” she asked, stepping past him before he offered her entrance.

He wore shorts with ducks all over them and a rumpled T-shirt with a roll of toilet paper on it. Emblazoned across the chest it said
Just how I roll
.

She looked him up and down. “Nice,” she mumbled, a smile tugging at her lips.

“Sorry, I already bought Girl Scout cookies.” He continued to hold the door open. “So, thanks for stopping by, and maybe try my neighbor about three hundred miles west of here.”

“Cute, Zero. Don’t you want your present?”

She reached into her backpack and shook the package at him. “Juice boxes.”

Zero licked his lips. His hair was a mass of white-blond sprigs sticking out everywhere.

She rattled the gift again. “The newest flavor. Watermelon Zinger.”

Zero lurched at her but missed. He crossed his arms in a huff. “What do you want?”

She dragged a box from the package and tossed it to him. “Answers.”

He snagged it in the air, tore off the straw’s plastic covering, and shoved the straw into the small hole. Pink liquid squirted onto his arm. He grumbled and lifted the drink to his lips. “I’m sworn to secrecy.”

She dropped into his computer chair and spun it around to face him. “So there
is
more to the story.”

He held up a finger. “Didn’t say that.”

“I’m not a real Halfling, Zero.” Hearing the words from her own mouth, Nikki fought the onset of tears. Her cheeks tingled. She busied herself with a juice box. She slid the straw in easily and handed the drink to Zero, who’d just finished the first one.

“Of course you are.”

“No, I’m a freak.”

He choked on a laugh, and Watermelon Zinger spewed from his nose. “We’re all freaks, baby girl. Take a closer look.” He leaned on a counter opposite her. “Besides, what makes you so special?”

“What?” she said.

“What’s wrong with being a Halfling? We’re kind of cool. I mean, yeah, sure, we may rot in hell for eternity once our time here is done.”

She felt queasy.

“Sorry, I, uh, didn’t think about …” He lifted his hands, dropped them. “You’re kind of immortal now. Well,” he corrected, “unless someone kills you.”

Her head pounded. It was too early in the morning for talk like this.

“Look on the bright side,” he said.

Her eyes found his. “Which is?”

He gestured toward her but didn’t speak. Moments passed, his hand still hanging in the air. Finally, he dropped it. “You’re right. Stinks to be you.” He snagged another drink, wrestled with the straw, squirted more liquid, and handed her the sticky mess. “Why don’t they invent a better system for these stupid things?” He swiped his hands on his duck-emblazoned shorts. “Look, you want answers, Will has them. Talk to him. Let him know you’re ready.”

“Ready?”

“To hear the truth. You can take it. You’re a big girl.”

Her eyes narrowed playfully. “I thought I was a baby girl?”

“Nah. Not so much.”

“I just can’t talk to Will.”

“Why not?”

“He makes me feel really …”

Zero motioned with his hand for her to continue.

“Childish.”

He laughed out loud. “He is sort of older and wiser than you. Like reeeeaaaally older and —”

She pressed a hand to her throbbing temple. “I get it.”

She’d been stupid to come here. He wasn’t going to talk. She’d have to pin Will down, and the crazy thing was she might have known that all along. Maybe she’d avoided talking to Will because once she asked she’d actually have to know. Nikki chewed her lip. “Is it bad, Zero?”

“Is what bad?”

Ugh. Did she have to spell it out? “You know, the truth about me.”

He took a long drink, stared at the ceiling. “Yeah, it’s bad.”

Something dropped in her stomach.
Okay, time to go
.

Zero pointed to her throat. “Vegan give you that?”

Her hand fell lovingly to the amulet. “Yes. She’s a special girl — uh, Halfling.”

Zero tugged at his collar and produced a similar trinket. “She really is.”

Keagan Townsend perched on a hilltop above the rocky country road. Nikki Youngblood’s head fell into the scope of his sniper rifle. “I have a visual on the target, Mr. Vessler.” Seeing her again caused a sensation that coursed through his body like a Tabasco cocktail. It was the familiar hunger for fresh blood. He willed his breathing to slow. Fingers trembling, he licked his
lips, hoping, praying that Vessler would change his mind and let him take the shot.

Through the headset, Vessler’s voice hummed. “She’s a good girl, our Nikki.”

Townsend barely heard. The girl filled his vision. He imagined hovering over her lifeless body. He envisioned hunting her, chasing her, and, finally, the sweet reward of death.

Vessler’s angry tone snapped Keagan’s attention to the present. “Did you hear me, Townsend? Leave the girl. She has to come to me by her own will.”

Townsend sneered and dropped her from his scope.

“Just pick up the bait,” Vessler ordered.

Chapter 19

W
hat now?” Zero yelled through the metal door. He’d just drained the last juice box and wished he had a few more. Watermelon Zinger might be the best flavor yet.

Nikki knocked again, this time harder. He shuffled to the front door, mumbling, “Annoying females. Don’t they know a guy needs his privacy?” The thought of females brought Vegan to the forefront of his mind.

Hand on the knob, he smiled. Vegan would bring him a case of Watermelon Zinger; all he had to do was ask. She’d breeze through the front door and drop her brows when she noticed all the frozen dinner boxes. Then, she’d always say, “It’s time for you to get out of here. Get some air! Stretch your wings!” And she’d grab his hand and tug, dragging him to the river to wade. One day, he was going to get in the water with her.

Bang! Bang! Bang!
The pounding on the door startled him so much his hand flew from the knob. He pulled the door open. “Look, Nikki —”

Keagan Townsend stood there instead with a sadistic grin. “Were we expecting a playmate?”

Zero slammed his shoulder against the door, throwing all his strength into the movement. Just before the heavy metal sealed shut, he caught a glimpse of the shock registered on Townsend’s face.

Keagan Townsend: one of Vessler’s favorite hit men. Zero and Vegan had found his name and photo in an unprotected file they jacked from Omega Corporation.

Zero bolted the locks while Townsend’s voice filtered through the cracks around the door frame.

“Think, think,” Zero said to himself, heart hammering in his chest. “Come on, you’ve run a thousand drills for this.” He stopped, closed his eyes, and drew a deep breath. As he exhaled, the plan rushed into his mind.

Bang! Bang! Bang!
Sounded like Townsend was throwing his own weight against the door.

Zero shoved clothes and trash off the trunk by the computer desk. He grabbed the giant magnets inside the crate and rubbed them across his work center.
So much work. So much time lost
. But erasing the hard drive, files, everything would send an instant alert to anyone logged into the network. One that only lasted a few seconds before fading to nothing. He’d wired the network to shut down three seconds after infiltration or — as in this circumstance — compromise. Thinking back on it, he wished he’d built in a little more time. Five seconds. Maybe ten. One minute. What if no one was on the network right now? He forced his mind to the task at hand and threw a glance toward the entrance.

Townsend would eventually get through, but not by slamming a fragile human shoulder into sheets of metal. “Keep it up, moron,” he said when Townsend pounded again.

From the other side, he heard a scream. Townsend yelled a stream of curses.

“Do you kiss your momma with that potty mouth?” Zero chuckled while his hands trembled at the keyboard. From the sound, the fool had probably just dislocated his shoulder. Good. That should buy a little time.

Two minutes later and exhausted, Zero did a mental checklist. Yep. Everything gone. He carried his laptop to the bathroom, dropped it into the toilet for good measure, and headed back to get the Mac. Gunshots erupted, echoing off the tunnel walls. The door dimpled and finally swung open.

Zero snapped his wings open to leap, but was stopped when a metal wingcuff zipped around his midsection. It clamped down, squeezing his lungs. He wrestled against it, trying to thread his fingers beneath the metal. He’d heard about these weapons but had never been in one. The thin titanium sheet spread about sixteen inches wide, designed with the purpose of keeping Halflings from snapping their wings open. No wings, no leap, no escape.
Man
,
at least Superman got Kryptonite, a rare
alien
material
. Titanium was so easily accessible, humans were making everything from jewelry to cell phone covers from the stuff. The Halflings already knew Vessler was shipping loads of it stateside. They’d intercepted a couple of those loads. But still, there was probably enough titanium to make a wingcuff for every Halfling on the planet. The thought scared him more than the inability to move.

Townsend rubbed his upper arm and entered the building, casting narrow-eyed glances around the room.

“What’s the matter? Scared of a locked-up Halfling?”

He spat in Zero’s direction and continued his cautious steps.

“Don’t worry, I work alone.” Zero rocked back on his heels,
watching the scared little human, and opted not to focus on the gun dangling from the end of his hand. “Did you hurt your shoulder?” He tilted his head, sarcasm lacing his words. “Ah, that’s too bad. You humans are just so” — he grinned —”easily broken.”

One man posed no threat to a Halfling. One man holding an automatic weapon with armor-piercing rounds did. Zero knew he should tread carefully. Too bad the desire to do so escaped him. “It was nice of you to drop by.” He plastered a phony smile on his face. “But I’m afraid I already made a donation to your organization.”

Townsend’s brows drew together.