Mammon (11 page)

Staring at Sarah's forehead, Grace imagined a hot white bolt of pain . . . digging. She broke off, closing her eyes. ‘I really don't want to.'

Sarah sighed. ‘Focus, Grace. You need to go on the offensive. They won't be expecting this.'

Grace took a deep breath. Okay. She had to hurt her. Past the skull and into the brain.

Suddenly, Sarah's face stiffened. Her hand shot out. ‘Whoa!' She breathed heavily, her hand pressed against her heart. ‘You're
good
.' She touched her forehead. ‘Wow, that really burned.'

‘Sorry.'

‘No, don't be.' Sarah rested her hand on the doorknob. ‘It's great! At last, someone I can work with.' She opened the door. ‘Come on. I want to show Ivan what you can do.'

IN THE MIDDLE
of the forest lay a sunken arena, surrounded by three rows of grass ledges. Above, Joe and Ivan were standing on a metal walkway from which observers could watch the action below.

Grace touched her forehead, imagining the burn Sarah had felt. ‘Have you ever used that on anyone? A demon, or –'

Sarah kept walking. ‘A human. Someone here. I'd rather not say who.'

‘What happened?'

‘He was beating someone up, someone I cared about.' Sarah pushed aside a large branch. ‘This is the mercenaries' turf. It used to be an outdoor theatre.' She gestured for Grace to go ahead.

Armin glanced up. ‘Back already?' He raised his eyebrows at Sarah.

Grace looked up at Joe, who was hanging his arms over the walkway railing like a monkey. Ivan peered down at Sarah. ‘How did she do?'

‘One hundred per cent pass. No problems at all!'

‘So?' Maya stood up. ‘She's yet to impress
us
.'

Sarah looked around at the group. ‘You're going to pee your pants.'

The mercenaries exploded into laughter – except Malcolm, who stood rigid, arms behind his back. It was obvious he was trying to give off the aura of leadership. Grace's eyes flicked from him to Ivan, who was leaning over the railing. Comfortable, relaxed – and yet so in control.

‘Yeah, right!' Armin tugged a strand of Sarah's hair. ‘She's going to put me flat on my back!'

‘Get away, you loser.'

Seth frowned. ‘Why write her off so quickly?'

Armin threw his arms up. ‘It'll be a waste of time! We should give her weapons training instead!'

Joe slid down the ladder and strode towards Armin. ‘What are you so scared of? That she'll be better than you?'

Armin scowled. ‘No. Her witchcraft won't work on me.'

Joe stared at him. ‘Perhaps mine will.'

Tension filled the air as Armin and Joe eyed each other.

Grace tore her gaze away to see Ivan drop down the last ladder rung and jog across. ‘All right, enough. Back away, both of you.'

He stood firm. Slowly, both boys took a reluctant step back.

Ivan glanced at his watch. ‘It's twelve-thirty. Break for lunch, then meet back at the training room.'

* * *

GRACE CHEWED SLOWLY
on her sandwich and stared at the table, trying to ignore the scornful stares coming from the mercenaries' table. They'd come in first and their table had filled up quickly. Grace glanced around the packed cafeteria. As Sarah had said, ‘It stinks of bravado in here.'

Although Grace was relieved that she didn't have to join them, it had left a cold feeling in her chest to see Joe sitting with the mercenaries. Especially after how Armin had acted towards her. But then again, Joe seemed to be engrossed in everything that Ivan was saying.

Ivan.

A warm feeling ran through her body.

He looked over – Grace felt the heat rising in her cheeks. He'd caught her staring at him. A quiver ran through her insides.

A girl sauntered across and straddled the bench next to Ivan, facing him.

‘She's the one I was telling you about,' Sarah said.

The girl wore a mercenary crest and looked very fit. Grace felt a stab of envy as the girl flicked her long dark hair over her shoulders and sent a sweeping look around the room. Her gaze stopped on Grace for a few seconds. Grace met her stare. The girl grimaced, as though she'd stepped in something foul, and placed a hand on Ivan's back. He leaned closer as she whispered something in his ear.

Grace tore her eyes away and yanked the straw from her drink bottle, taking a long gulp of water. She fixed her eyes on Sarah. ‘You didn't tell me she was so gorgeous.'

‘I don't see much beauty in her. She's not a very nice person.'

Grace slammed the bottle down
.
‘We're pretty outnumbered, aren't we?'

‘There are over forty mercs and twelve engineers, but only two of us. There aren't many with our gift, Grace. Don't know why. I was pretty happy to hear there was a new telepath coming, let me tell you.'

‘They don't seem to like us much.' Anger simmered in Grace's stomach. She peered over at Armin. What a rude, horrible rodent.

‘I wouldn't say it's dislike. Rather, ignorance. Mercs respect firepower over mindpower. And some are superstitious, like Armin. You know – using the word witchcraft. Mercs don't understand the nature of our gift. They have lots of names for us: ‘psychic', ‘clairvoyant', even ‘hippy'. It's intended as an insult, but I don't pay any attention. I've even been called a fortune teller before.' She smiled, leaning her chin on her hand. ‘I wish there were more of us. We could team up and annihilate the demon population.'

‘Yeah!' Grace grinned. ‘That'd be so cool.'

‘I've never had the chance to really get out there. I exist on the fringes, until Lucius needs me for something special. They rely on their weaponry too much, in my opinion. I've only been on five missions.'

‘Really?' Grace's eyes shone. ‘What kind?'

‘Low-key. Small stuff. Everyone's so new and inexperienced. Thank God for Ivan. I think he'll really try to exploit your gift.' She looked up and smiled at Grace's confused expression. ‘In a good way, don't worry!'

Sarah wrapped up the remains of her kebab and pushed it aside. ‘In about twenty minutes, Ivan's going to throw you into a survival situation. He needs to see if you can use your skills to repel attacks by the mercs.'

‘Okay.'

Sarah raised her eyebrows. ‘Ever been tasered?'

‘Of course not!'

‘That's what you'll be trying to avoid.' Sarah watched her closely. ‘You'll use masking to get past them. If you can, use the telepathic assault. Remember?' She pointed to her forehead. ‘Give 'em pain! Oh, and a word to the wise: don't try to give them any commands – don't
tell
them to do something. You know.' She pointed to the side of her head. ‘In here. It doesn't work on them. They're too well-trained against that.'

‘Okay.' Grace flinched, sensing a prickling stare from the other side of the room. Sure enough, Armin and Maya were looking at her. She muttered something; he broke into high-pitched laughter. Even the girl sitting next to Ivan looked around, smirking.

Grace ground her teeth.

Sarah leaned closer. ‘Do you understand what I just said?'

Seething, Grace watched Armin take a swig of his drink. He banged his fist on the table, laughing hard. She clenched her jaw and stared out the window. She was going to sort him out. Right now. She tuned out everything in front of her – the reflection of the scattered chairs and tables in the window, the bulky, swaying trees, the hint of ocean spray at the top of the cliffs.

She planted the words in his head.
I'm a little teapot. It's a dance we always do.

Definitely not a command.

The noise alerted everyone first. It was the scraping of Maya's chair. She stood up, eyes wide with confusion. ‘Baby! What are you doing?'

Armin had climbed on top of the table and was now performing a dance. His left hand was made into a fist, planted firmly against his hip and his right arm was extended in a very silly angle. ‘Here is my handle, here is my spout!' He leaned sideways, eyes blank, hand pouring tea into a giant, invisible cup. Coarse laughter echoed through the room.

Maya clawed at his leg. ‘Get down!'

Armin grinned. ‘It's what we always do!' Wildly, he shook his head, still pouring. ‘Come on! Get up here.'

Grace caught Ivan staring across at her. He wasn't smiling.

Her face dropped. She knew he could tell it was her
.

He shook his head at her – a single, sharp movement – and then turned back to the table.

Grace relaxed her thoughts, and as she did, Armin came out of his trance. Grace watched Ivan stand up and lean over the table. Shaking, Armin turned and looked at Grace. The mercenaries followed his stare. Armin's face turned bright pink. Malcolm was reaching over, trying to calm Maya, who was reared up like a wildcat, straining to lunge across the room and attack.

Grace grinned. She lifted her hand and gave them a little wave. ‘My witchcraft seems to work just fine.'

‘You bitch!'

‘Sit down, Maya,' said Ivan.

Heart pounding, Grace turned back to her table. She grabbed the bottle and squeezed it.

Sarah pressed her hand to her heart. Eyes wide, she shook her head. ‘You're asking for trouble.'

‘Grace.'

She looked across to see Ivan striding towards her. The mercenaries were standing up and making their way towards the exit. Joe gave her a disapproving glare.

Ivan stopped next to the table.

Grace drew a deep breath and lifted her chin.

Ivan looked at Sarah. ‘Go on ahead, Sanderson.'

Nodding, Sarah walked away. She threw Grace an apologetic smile before disappearing through the door.

Ivan leaned against the wall, arms folded.

Grace kept her gaze locked on his eyes, fighting the urge to dip down and stare at the taut muscle in his arms.

She smiled. ‘Something wrong?'

‘Why did you do that?'

‘Do what?'

‘The teapot dance.'

She shrugged. ‘How do you know it was me?'

‘Don't be – how do they put it in English? Coy.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘You did that to Jelavic. You got inside his head. I've never seen that kind of thing before. Although, I wouldn't expect any of my team to behave so badly.'

Her eyes narrowed. No way. Armin deserved it, and she wasn't going to take this. No more. Grace was a different person now.

‘Are you criticising me? What
did
you expect me to do, just sit here and take his crap? He insulted me, and I wanted payback.' She shrugged. ‘It wasn't hard, anyway.' She took a sip of water, hoping he wouldn't notice the tremble in her fingers.

Ivan raised his eyebrows. ‘Is that right?'

‘It was too easy, really.'

‘Good. Then you'll find my little test no challenge at all.'

* * *

GRACE STARED OUT
across the kill room. The place was like a converted barn. The ground consisted of large slabs of concrete. A watchtower dominated the middle of the space. Several small walls acted as partitions – like parts of a crazy maze had been ripped out and dumped in various locations. Right in front of her, a small brick structure with steps led up to a small lookout.

‘You'll go up against these four mercenaries.' Ivan nodded in the direction of the group, who were standing nearby. ‘Armin and Maya you know; the other two are Stephanie and Patrick.'

Grace grimaced. Stephanie was the girl who'd cosied up to Ivan at lunchtime. ‘Great,' she muttered.

‘They will be armed with tasers and other non-lethal devices. You are to use your skill to evade them. You must reach the opposite wall and hit the red button. There are obstacles you must negotiate on your way to the other side. It will be dimly lit – but that shouldn't worry you, should it? Given the skill you showed us in the lunch room.'

Grace blinked – was there a touch of disdain in his voice?

‘Do you have any questions?'

She shook her head.

He raised his eyebrows. ‘Are you sure?'

Grace glanced around the room. Should she memorise it? Nah . . . she'd didn't need to worry about that. The teapot dance was just the beginning.

‘I can see what's involved here.'

Ivan gestured for the door. She hadn't even walked the room. ‘Fine. Go outside and wait for me to call you.'

Grace blinked as the sunlight hit her eyes. Her eyes adjusted; gradually Sarah's outline became less of a dark blur.

‘Did you take a good look? Know where to go?'

‘Yeah, good enough.'

‘Look.' Sarah pointed to a glass cabinet. Inside were black shotguns lined with yellow stripes and rows of matching cartridges. ‘See those parts? They're for a taser shotgun. That's what they'll be using in there.'

Grace stared at the guns. She rubbed her arms – a prickling sensation was running up and down her flesh. Her stomach churned. She'd seen taser attacks on TV. ‘Hopefully they won't get to hit me.'

‘It's time.' Armin stood in the doorway, his voice cold.

Sarah smiled. ‘Good luck. You can kick butt, easy.'

Nodding, Grace entered a dark, unnerving silence.

‘Wait here.' Armin walked off, quickly swallowed up by the darkness. Grace felt a tickle of adrenaline in her stomach. Then she giggled, picturing him dancing like a teapot. This was going to be easy.

Ivan's voice thundered over the speakers. ‘Whenever you are ready, Grace.'

She stepped forward. She was glad she wore sneakers. Grace made her silent way forward and up the concrete steps. She crouched, aware that her top half must be visible to those far away – and peered down.