Created (Talented Saga) (3 page)

Rogue Talent? Highly dangerous? Possibly unstable? Seriously? I’d show him just how dangerous and unstable I was. Just wait until I unleashed all the crazy bottled up inside of me. Maybe killing Mac would prove easier than I’d thought.

“Save it, Talia,” Crane said, placing a calming hand on my arm. “Hold on to that anger until you need it. And you will need it.”

I glanced at his hand and then back up at Crane’s iridescent irises. I opened my mind and found his unblocked. Feelings of warmth and affection flowed freely from his head to mine. Despite everything I’d done, the grudge I’d harbored for years, my attempt on his life, he cared for me. I found in Crane what I’d never received from Mac. I’d thought Mac cared about me, loved me even. But Mac felt the same way about me that he did about his son. And as it turned out, that wasn’t saying much.

I’d inadvertently been exposed to the creation drug after receiving an unfiltered blood transfusion from Donavon. After the transfusion I’d begun to experience what I’d been led to believe were seizures. But they weren’t. Donavon’s blood contained the creation drug, which was what made Donavon talented – a Morpher, to be precise.

My seizures were actually the result of my body trying to morph but being unable to do so because of a suppressant TOXIC’s doctors were giving me. Once I’d stopped taking the suppressant, I’d learned of my new ability to morph. It was uncertain when this gift would begin to fade, but at least for now, I was a hybrid. Half talented, half created.

I shook my head disgustedly. Mac was selfish and greedy and incapable of loving another person. Not me, and most certainly not Donavon.

“Five minutes from destination,” a voice from the front of the cockpit called.

Crane stood, the moment that passed between us gone. I followed him back to the main cabin. The other soldiers were already on their feet, securing their weapons and performing last minute preparations. The tension in the small space was stifling. Everyone knew the severity of what we were about to do. The Coalition’s last attack on a TOXIC facility had resulted in numerous casualties on both sides. Chances were good that for several of us, we’d not be making the return trip.

“We all know what we need to do,” Crane began, adjusting an earpiece that had been dangling around his neck to fit into his ear. I did the same with mine. “We have one job: free the Mimic. Once he’s been secured, we get out. No heroics. Let Meadows and his team worry about the other hostages. This mission is dangerous enough. I don’t want anyone taking unnecessary chances.” He looked from one face to the next, searching for understanding in each.

“Doors open in thirty, twenty-nine, twenty-eight,” the mechanical voice said over the loudspeaker.

Let the game begin, I thought. The first move was ours, and we had to be the first to score, otherwise we’d be playing catch-up. I knew enough about strategy to understand that luring your opponent into a false sense of security was a good one, and this was the closest we’d get to doing just that. After this attack, Mac would know I’d joined forces with the Coalition, with Ian Crane. He would know to expect the unexpected.

Janelle began securing ropes with carabineers to hooks dangling from the ceiling. I felt my palms grow clammy underneath the suit. My heart raced, and I tried to calm the rising hysteria in my chest. I took deep breaths through my nose and blew them out through my mouth. Frederick grabbed a newly-hung rope and offered it to me. I took it without thanking him, and secured the rope to the knife belt at my waist.

“You know how these work, right?” Frederick asked.

I nodded. I’d never repelled out of a plane for a mission, but had learned how while pledging the Hunters.

“Ten, nine, eight,” the voice called overhead.

Erik, Erik, Erik
, I chanted mentally. I could do this as long I kept his face front and center in my mind. I could kill whoever stood between him and his freedom.

I positioned myself on the seam of the plane’s floor. Frederick stood on one side and Crane on the other. Janelle stood directly across from me. I met her gaze, and she smiled and gave me a thumbs up. The gesture made me grin. Fire burned in her marbled eyes; the flickering flames danced higher and higher the harder her adrenaline pumped. She was excited, drunk on thrill and anticipation. I opened my mind to her. I hadn’t established a connection with her, but I
could still touch her emotions. I drank in her exhilaration until it drowned out every last fear about what awaited us down below.

“One.

Chapter Two

The plane’s underbelly burst open in a rush of cool air. Wind whipped through up through the chasm with a deafening roar. Beside me, Crane jumped. Janelle followed a split second later, winking a marbled eye at me as she did. On my other side, Frederick nudged me with his elbow before making the leap. I stared down into the black abyss, squinting to locate the bridge below. The main building was aglow with orange fire from the fighter jets’ missiles, but only the hoverplane’s lights illuminated my target. Now or never, I told myself. Without further hesitation, I stepped over edge and released the catch on the rope.

I dropped like a stone; the cooler air from the high altitude quickly gave way to the humidity the southern states were known for.
I pursed my lips and scrunched my eyes to keep from inhaling the suffocating concoction of smoke and dust wafting from the main building of the prison. The free-fall was exhilarating and for a moment, I longed to morph into the bird and fly away from the chaos below. But before I knew it, my body jerked to an abrupt halt, my head snapping back painfully.

I blinked my eyes open.
My feet dangled two feet above the slanted roof covering the bridge. A yard to my right, Crane and Janelle were crouched low with their hands protectively over their heads. I quickly unhooked the carabineer and dropped the short distance. I landed on all fours, scrambling to grip the smooth stone surface with gloved hands. Just as I’d become convinced I wasn’t going to slide over the edge, a grenade detonated. Large chucks of stone erupted from the roof like a geyser. Pressing my cheek to the roof, I closed my eyes and prayed nothing would hit me in the back of the head. Bits of rubble rained down, coating the back of my suit and hair.

“Talia?
You okay?” Crane’s voice asked in my earpiece.

Not wanting to risk losing my tenuous grip by freeing one of my hands to respond in kind, I sent my reply mentally.
“Yeah, I think so. Nothing big hit me.”

Fingers closed around my wrists, and I was being hauled to my feet.
Other hands were patting my head, dislodging dust and debris from my curls. Once I was standing, I stared up into Frederick’s worried brown eyes. “You good?” he asked.

“Fine,” I snapped, even as the smell of burnt hair filled my nostrils.

“Just a few singed strands,” Janelle informed me. “Nothing that can’t be fixed.”

Great, I thought, the first time Erik sees me in a week – god, had all of this really happened in a week? –
and I was going to look like a burn victim. I shook off the ridiculous thought; my appearance was the least of my worries.

“Let’s go.
Ian made a hole.” Frederick began heading towards where Crane was lowering himself through the jagged opening he’d made in the roof.

Jared and the curly-haired boy – definitely Marcel, I decided – were close on his heels.
The larger of the two, Jared, had a trouble squeezing his wide frame through the opening and managed to snag his suit on a pointy edge. He swore loudly before dropping out of sight.

“Let me go first.
Then Talia. Then you, Janelle,” Frederick said, glancing to Janelle for confirmation. She nodded and Frederick descended without another word.

I opened my mouth to argue for no better reason than I was feeling disagreeable, but then remembered this wasn’t about me.
Every second I spent being obstinate was one more second Erik was locked in a cell.

I heard Frederick’s boots hit the concrete floor with a thud a second later.

Dropping first to my knees and then my stomach, I slithered over the edge feet first and pushed off. The distance from roof to ground was farther than I’d estimated, and bolts of pain shot up through my knees when I hit bottom. There was no time to assess myself for damage because Janelle was already on her way down. Quickly I moved out of her way, my eyes sweeping the corridor for signs of trouble. Crane, Jared, and Marcel were already moving towards Echo tower, their guns drawn. Frederick stood several feet to my right and was waving me forward. I glanced over my shoulder at Janelle, who was tentatively rotating her ankle. She gave me a thumbs up, which I took to mean she wasn’t actually injured.

My earpiece crackled with static.
“How’s it look down there?” Brand asked.

The doors to Echo section burst open, and black-clad TOXIC operatives exploded onto the bridge.

“Hostile,” I hissed in reply as the firefight began.

Bullets whizzed through the air, one so close to my head that I actually heard the whistle.
I dropped into a crouch, instinctively repelling the projectiles with my mind. Realizing that my efforts were doing those in front of me no good, I expanded my talents, creating a shield around our fivesome. The operatives continued to fire on us, but their ammunition fell short of any planned target.

Crane, Jared, and Marcel advanced as one.
Holding the shield was costing me too much energy, so I switched tactics. No guns, no way to stop our assault. I focused on the TOXIC operatives and tore their weapons from their fingers. This was met with enough surprise for the Coalition soldiers to incapacitate – some permanently – the guards. But a wave of reinforcements was already flooding through the open doors ahead of us.

Behind us, I heard shouts as more operatives poured onto the bridge from the main building.
They were like two tidal waves converging, and our group was caught in the middle. For a brief instant, I froze. We were outnumbered ten to one, at least. I had no clue where Brand’s team was, but if they landed now, they’d be walking into an ambush.

Don’t panic, think, I ordered myself.
Even the odds.

Echo section was my ultimate goal.
I needed to clear the path forward, the path to Erik. But I could destroy the path behind me. Fully aware that doing so might mean reducing the chances of rescuing Crane’s imprisoned soldiers, I made my decision.

I spun on my boot heel to face the entrance of the main building and began running towards the new threat.
Once my five other teammates were behind me, I stopped dead in my tracks. I let the power inside of me build until it felt like my skin was going to split. Then I focused on a spot three feet in front of my toes, channeling all of the energy inside of me into one steady stream before letting the dam break.

“Bravo team, the bridge is compromised.
Repeat, the bridge is compromised,” I heard Crane say in my earpiece. He’d picked up on what I was about to do.

“What’s happening?” was Brand’s frantic reply.

“Initiate plan B,” Crane ordered.

Plan B was repelling into the courtyard in the center of the prison’s main building.

“Affirmative,” Brand said after a long pause.

The crack in the concrete started off small.
I pumped more and more energy out of myself and into the ground, driving the wedge deeper and deeper. Finally, the support beams snapped and the part of the bridge between me and the main building was no more. The sound was like breaking tree branches to my hypersensitive ears. The shrieks of the prison guards as they plummeted twenty stories were horrific, and I knew their death screams would haunt my nightmares. Us or them, Brand had said. Well, I’d chosen us.

Unfortunately, my stunt had only gotten rid of half of “them.”
There was still a battle taking place behind me, and I didn’t have time to dwell on the people I’d just killed.

Oh god, I’d
killed
TOXIC operatives.

“What the hell!” Brand’s angry voice yelled into my earpiece.

Yeah, he’s going to make sure I pay for that, I thought.

“No choice,” I spat back.
“I’m sorry,” I added.

A string of expletives followed, but I ignored Brand.
Right now, I had bigger concerns.

Not wanting his angry words in my ear, I tore the electronic device free from my ear, and tucked it into the neck of my suit.

Muscles tensed and ready for a fight, I turned to throw myself into the melee taking place on the still intact half of the bridge. Several of the prison guards had morphed. A raven was circling above where Jared was engaged in hand-to-hand combat with two human guards. The bird managed to dodge the flying fists while dive-bombing Jared to peck at the exposed skin of his cheeks and neck. Beyond them, Crane and Janelle were wrestling an orange and black striped tiger. A pack of snarling black dogs had Marcel surrounded. He’d lost his gun somewhere along the way and was fending them off with two long blades. One of the dogs leapt forward to attack and let out a glass-shattering howl as Marcel sunk one of his blades into the thick tuft of hair covering the dog’s chest. I looked away as Marcel pulled the crimson-stained knife free.

“Who is next?” he taunted the animals in a richly accented voice.

The flow of guards coming through the doors from Echo section seemed to have dried up. With the guards on the bridge occupied, I stood a decent chance of making it through the fray without being stopped. I could go get Erik, and we could all get the hell out of here.

I started to jog towards the open doors at the far end of the corridor.
As I passed the spot where Crane and Janelle were fighting with the tiger, I realized that they were actually trying to pull the beast off of someone. The cat’s orange fur now had black and blood-red stripes. I came to a screeching halt beside them.

Please, no, I silently begged.
With my other five team members accounted for, the tiger’s victim had to be Frederick. The cat threw its head back and roared when Janelle drove a blade into the matted fur between its shoulder blades. Bright white canines the length of my forearm snapped at her as the cat twisted and bucked to throw Janelle off. Crimson droplets flew from the cat’s teeth, peppering the floor and walls with Frederick’s blood.

“NO!” I screamed.

Casualties were a given on a mission of this magnitude, but Frederick would not be one of them. I might have been mad at him, but I still cared about him.

I whipped a knife from my belt, and with a flick of my wrist let the blade fly.
The tiger’s thrashing made aiming impossible, but using telepathy I was able to guide the weapon through the air towards my target. Bullseye, I thought, when nothing but the hilt protruded from between the cat’s yellow eyes. Everyone and everything froze for the briefest of moments, and then the tiger was gone and a large human man collapsed in a pile of limbs.

Crane and Janelle made quick work of rolling the dead body off of Frederick.
I hurried to help. The cat’s claws didn’t appear to have torn Frederick’s suit, but had left long, angry gashes down his face and neck. I sank to my knees, and gently pushed strands of bloody blonde hair from his closed eyes.

“Frederick?” I asked frantically.

He was so still. Only when I noticed his chest rise did I resume breathing myself. He was alive; at least that was something. His eyes fluttered open, and big brown orbs peered up at me through long lashes.

“I’m okay, I think,” he said, wincing when he touched the widest slash running across his left cheekbone.
The wound bled freely, but he waved off my attempts to wipe his cheeks.

Marcel screeched out several swear words in French from down the corridor.

Crane, Janelle, and I all glanced over. One of the dogs had attached itself to Marcel’s leg and was gnawing on it like a bone. Marcel was swiping at the animal with his knives, but all that seemed to do was annoy it. This gave the remaining canines the opening they needed to attack without the worry of meeting the pointy end of one of his blades.

“Go.
I’ve got him,” I told Crane and Janelle.

Crane nodded to me, raised his gun, and took off to help his soldier.
Janelle was only a step behind her commander.

Frederick managed to sit up on his own, but needed assistance getting to his feet.
With his arm slung over my shoulders, I bore the brunt of his weight, and together we were able to get him off the ground. Frederick took a couple tentative steps and swung his arms across his chest as if making sure all his limbs worked properly.

“I’m good,” he assured me a moment later.

“Talia, you and Frederick go. Get to Erik. We’ll hold them off as long as we can, and then follow,”
Crane’s voice filled my head.

“Affirmative,”
I sent back before relaying the order to Frederick.

Together, we sprinted for the doorway.
As we approached, Frederick slowed and drew his gun, gesturing for me to do the same. He held one finger to his lips in the universal sign for “be quiet.” I let him take the lead as we crept forward. I focused on my senses, expanding all of them simultaneously. The slight shuffling of nervous feet on concrete, heavy breathing, accelerated beating of several hearts. Four guards. I tapped Frederick on the shoulder and held up four fingers to let him know. He nodded that he understood. Then he pointed at the automatic weapon still strapped on my back. Rotating the gun, I placed my finger on the trigger and flipped the safety.

Fredrick picked up a piece of ceiling that had broken off when I’d blown up the other half of the bridge.
He threw it through the open doorway and into the darkened hallway beyond. Two guards materialized immediately. They fired without hesitation, but I caught the bullets with my mind before they came anywhere close to me or Frederick.