Chasing Power (Hidden Talents) (30 page)

“There are a lot of things Talents aren’t supposed to do.  Yet still, amazingly, they manage.”  Reaching forward, Sam snagged the keys from him and opened the car herself.

“You don’t understand.  This makes him, beyond powerful.  Incredibly powerful.  If he can take power the way you can, but actually use it himself?  If he can take someone else’s talent from over twenty feet?  He will always be the strongest Talent in the room.”

“OK.”  Sam let her breath out in a shudder, “Thank god he’s locked up, then.”

Over her shoulder, Harry, Al, and Lane exchanged looks.  Locked up, maybe.  But the truth was, as long as there was another Talent in range, Sam’s dad could leave whenever he wanted to.

#

They got out of Steilacoom surprisingly quickly.  Al managed to cap his questions.  No one asked for potty breaks or food, and no one complained if Lane drove a fair amount faster than usual.  

“I’m going to be so happy when we get back to California,” Harry said, “I mean, Nevada was bad because it was flat.  Oregon and Washington just make me car sick.”

“I love it,” Al said, “Mountains.”

“And that’s what made me car sick,” Harry replied.

“I like the trees,” Sam said simply.

“Just wait,” Lane said, “until you see Seattle.”

“Uh oh,” Al said, “You got him started, Sam.”

“Got me started on what?  How Washington is vastly superior to all other states?”

“Yeah, that.”

“First of all, they have real trees here, as you’ve already seen.”

“And tons of rain,” Al said.

“And inordinately high business taxes,” Sam chimed in.  The guys looked at her and she shrugged, “It’s true. I look these things up.”

“That may be so,” Lane said, “but let me tell you why that doesn’t matter.”

#

It was dark as they drove north, so Samantha didn’t get to see the land of Milk and Honey Lane spoke about.  

“Just wait,” Lane said.  Right.  Waiting was something Samantha had grown accustomed to on this trip.  Long periods of boredom punctuated by the odd, incredibly frightening period of intensity followed by more boredom.  Still, she couldn’t say she entirely hated road trips.  In fact, under different circumstances, she might have enjoyed the passing of the landscape and the strange sense of freedom that car travel afforded. 

And the company wasn’t entirely horrible.  Harry could be pretty funny when he decided to speak up, and there was usually a lot of heart behind Al’s endless chatter.  And then there was Lane, of course.  Right now, he was taking a break from driving, scribbling away in that black scientific journal he was so devoted to.  When he put it away, she might pretend to drift off so she could lean against his shoulder.  After all, they might actually go on a date eventually.  Provided she lived through this ordeal.

Thinking about Lane provided a nice distraction from the more repetitive thoughts that had been running through her head since leaving Steilacoom.  Overall, she felt relieved: She’d faced down her worst nightmare and lived to tell the tale.  Her father’s accusation about her mother hurt her, but it wasn’t the killing strike he’d intended.

Samantha remembered that day so clearly still.  She had analyzed it a hundred times in her head.  She should have been crushed.  Instead, her mother turned the wheel.  If Samantha had never existed, if her mother hadn’t loved her enough to try and protect her, her mother may very well be alive today.  By that logic, Samantha had killed her mother.

But that logic was flawed.  Because Samantha hadn’t caused the brakes to fail, another Talent had, presumably working for the Corp.  The intended target didn’t matter.  Her mother would have been alive if the Corp hadn’t thought what they wanted was for the best.  Sam wasn’t the murderer, they were.  She knew that, in her heart of hearts.

And her father? 

With some reservation, she discussed him with the guys, candidly.  It got exhausting, keeping things to herself all the time.  And they’d witnessed his breakdown, they knew just enough to put the pieces together: What use was it continuing to keep things from them, when they might have valuable input?

But a discussion hadn’t gotten them far.  The few answered questions led to a hundred others.  His power, for one thing.  Like Samantha, he could pull energy from the outside environment, from other nearby Talents.  Unlike Samantha, he could also use the energy himself, without having to touch anyone even. 

It went a long way in explaining why the Corp felt Sam was a threat.  The extent of Sam’s power depended on the talents around her.  But her father could steal it—and then use it however he saw fit.  His unbalanced mental state meant that, more often than not, he would use his abilities violently.  And now it made sense, the strange, distanced look that everyone who knew her father gave her.  They thought she, too, was a bomb.

But her father had also made it pretty clear he was another cog in the Corp’s machine.  So why would the Corp bother with her?  Honestly, she wasn’t much of a match, ability-wise.

“It doesn’t make sense,” Sam muttered. 

Lane glanced up from his notebook, “What?”

“Why spend all of this money on me?  Assassins can’t be cheap.  Tracking me can’t be cheap.  And why?  What will the return be on the investment of killing me?  The whole point of investing is to prevent losing money to inflation and hopefully increase your wealth doing it.”

“It’s not always about making money, Sam.  Sometimes it’s about preventing losses.”

“They brought me in, they were interviewing me for a job.  Wouldn’t hiring me have been a cheaper and simpler way of managing the risk that I presented?  Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”

Lane slammed his journal shut and sighed, “It’s confusing to me, too, Sam, but all I can say is that evil doesn’t always act with logic.”

“A Corporation isn’t run by one person alone; it’s run by several.  You think you can put ten people alone in a room who can successfully manage a growing business and yet act irrationally evil whenever the mood hits them?”

“What other options do we have, Samantha?”

“There are other options.  We just aren’t seeing them.”

Chapter
26

“I’ve got news,” Lane announced as he snapped his phone shut.  Sam looked at him curiously.  Not good news or bad news, just news?

“Tess is driving out to meet us.  She wants to meet us at a restaurant in Tukwila.”

“Uh oh,” Harry said, “Is that bad?”

“She says she just wants to be back-up.”

“Implication being that we need back-up,” Sam said, frowning thoughtfully.

Lane shrugged.  Personally, he was relieved.  Tess was someone he could trust, and he would welcome her help and her unbiased opinion.  He glanced over at Samantha.  Scratch that—somewhat unbiased opinion.  Tess didn’t like competition.

#

They pulled into the gravel parking lot of a restaurant called Straight Shooter’s.  Slat-wood exterior, blinking neon sign.  Sam wondered what had possessed Tess to choose this place.  It was little more than a roadhouse country bar.

No, she re-evaluated her opinion as they went in, a Disney-fied roadhouse bar.  Genuine ranchers mingled with cute girls wearing fancy boots and carrying designer handbags.  Bull horns, dressed in cowboy hats and bolos, lined the wall.  The “bar” was divided into three sections: Tables for those there to eat, a karaoke (a not-quite drunk man was already on stage, struggling through “Margaritaville”), and a dance floor.  A mechanical bull even sat in the corner, mercifully unused.  The only common thread was the ungodly loud country music (almost drowning out the karaoke) and over-the-top western décor.  My god, Samantha thought, looking down, are those peanut shells on the floor?

“This place is great!”  Al said.

“My top three favorite things: Kitsch, country, and poseurs,” she replied.

“Oh, you don’t think it’s fun?”  A voice responded from over her shoulder.  Sam turned around, getting her first chance to size up Lane’s ex-girlfriend.

Or she would have if the woman hadn’t stuck out a hand, twinkled a smile and announced, “I’m Theresa, feel free to call me Tess You must be Samantha I’ve heard
all
about you I hope you don’t mind if I call you Sam My, what a strong grip you have!”  Sam swore the girl/woman spoke without punctuation.

Sam took her hand back.  “I don’t suppose I have a choice.”

“About what?”  Tess blinked enormous brown cow eyes up at her.

“You calling me Sam.”

Tess giggled, but her gaze turned assessing before sliding over to where Lane had stepped up behind Sam’s shoulder. 
Ah yes
, Samantha thought,
I know that look.  Let the games begin.

Tess showed them to the table she had claimed in the corner and grabbed everyone menus. 

On the petite side of average, she had a cute button nose, and a wholesome all-American face.  It only made sense she would be blonde as well, her straight hair pulled back into a cute ponytail.  All in all, with her perfect teeth and light tan (and just how was that achieved in a state where it rained 80% of the year?), Tess was a couple inches shy of being the poster child for Miss Teen USA.  Only in her late twenties.  At what point, Sam wondered, does pubescence wear off?

Sam tried valiantly to put her instant feeling of dislike aside.  This woman was, after all, a friend of Lane’s.  Close enough that he’d apparently told Tess
all
about her (and how much was that?).  So be nice, Sam told herself, claws in.  Make friends.

The attempt to be charitable ended when Tess successfully slid in front of Samantha to take her place next to Lane in the booth.  Leaning against him, she smiled sweetly at Sam, who had to make do with a chair.

“So, honey, tell us all about this little adventure you’re on.”

“You mean my desperate cross-country race to escape being killed?”

Tess laughed and leaned forward, taking Sam’s hand conspiratorially.  “Oh, I know, isn’t it fantastically dramatic?  I’m so jealous of you.  I can’t imagine what fun it must be.  I mean, frightening of course—I wouldn’t dream of belittling your situation—but you have Lane to rely on, so of course you were always safe.”  Tess turned her big-browns on Lane, “Lane would never let anything bad happen—even to a stranger.  And of course he had his good friends to help ease the burden.  And I’ve been so thrilled to play my part, helping you guys through my position in headquarters.”

The thing that amazed Sam about Tess was the woman’s ability to pack so much into one brief dialogue.  She wondered if Tess had rehearsed it; it was so well played. The implications were clear:  You are a stranger, I am not. 
You
are a burden, and Lane relied on
me
when he needed help.  And, of course, it was all subtle enough to go right over the guys’ heads.  Perfect.

“You know, Sam,” Tess was still talking, “It wasn’t easy tracking information about you, either.  Did you know, guys, that she changed her name?”

This statement, announced so blithely, was intended as a bombshell.  Fortunately, rather than the shocked reaction and anger that Tess had hoped for, Lane and the guys dismissed this as old news.  Oh yeah, the line had just been drawn. 

The waiters here only served drinks.  If they wanted something else you had to go to the bar and get it put on the tab.  Standing up, Sam took the others’ orders and made her way to the bar.

If I don’t get some processed cheese food soon
, Sam thought,
I’m going to kill this girl.

#

Lane might not have expected the two girls to become instant bosom-buddies, but he definitely hadn’t expected this much instant antagonism.

  And he couldn’t blame Sam for it, either.  As much as he had sensed her instant dislike for Tess, he couldn’t help but notice Tess herself had felt the same way.  Sam had reacted out of that instinctual understanding most women had about who was, and wasn’t, going to be a friend. 

But it was one thing to sense that there were deathly undercurrents swirling under the ice.  It was quite another to do anything about it, or even understand the complexities.  Even as Sam walked away, Tess turned to Lane: “She’s such a sweetheart.”  She said, “And so skinny!  She looks like a little pixie.  Or a kitten, with those weird, turned-up eyes.  Has it been hard on you?”

Lane blinked at the abrupt change of subject and tone, “Excuse me?”

“This trip, has it been hard?  A 20 hour drive turned into a five day ordeal.  You seem tired.”  She blinked up at him sympathetically and Lane found himself wondering how he could ever doubt her good intentions.

“Oh, well, you know.  Sleepless nights.  Psychotic Talents.  Nothing I haven’t dealt with in the past, but nothing I want to handle again in the future.”

Tess nodded knowingly, “I guess it’s been tough, I’m so sorry.”  She put her arms around him, giving him a hug.  He politely disentangled himself.  Tess hugged total strangers by way of greeting, but he didn’t want Sam to get the wrong idea.  Being around Tess was comfortable, and it was easy falling back into old habits, but they had broken up before he went off to med school for good reason.