Relentless (The Hero Agenda, #2) (16 page)

I nearly jump out of my skin when Rebel taps me on the shoulder.

“The heroes are gone.”

“What?” Draven and I demand at once.

She gestures at the environmental chamber. “See for yourself.”

I cross to the door and peer inside the small window. The chamber is empty.

“Damn it,” Draven mutters when he confirms it for himself.

The door is still locked, and Draven I have been in the room the whole time. There is no way they snuck out past us, let alone V, who is steadfastly guarding the top of the stairs.

“One of them must have had the ability to teleport,” Rebel suggests.

Of course. I’ve never actually seen anyone use it myself, but that power is legend. Supers who can disappear in a flash, along with anyone who is touching them at the time.

The one with that power must have woken up and poofed the whole lot of them out of the chamber.

“Great, now what?” My shoulders slump. “How are we going to test my theory?”

“We have a suggestion,” Riley says, appearing at Rebel’s side.

She nods. “We want to use the serum on Mom.”

I ask, “What?”

“Our dad may be a monster,” Riley says, “but what about our mom?”

Rebel’s eyes have a haunted look. “What if she’s under his control? Like, literally under his control?”

“Oh, Rebel.” I reach out and press a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. “Your mom has always gone along with Rex.”

“What if it’s not her fault?” she says.

Riley nods. “What if Dad’s been controlling her all along?”

“Admit it,” Rebel says. “It makes sense.”

“It’s at least possible,” Riley adds.

“We have to try,” Rebel pleads. “If she’s being controlled, we have to save her.”

“Babe, come on,” Dante interrupts. “We have bigger problems at the moment. We should be steering clear of your parents as long as Rex is trying to kill us. We need to focus on stopping him.”

“Mom can help with that!” Riley exclaims. “She knows him better than anyone, knows how he thinks, what he’s capable of—”

“What his secrets are,” Rebel chimes in. “If we can cure her, she can tell us where he’s hiding. Then we could go after him instead of waiting around for him to try to kill us.”

I have to admit, the idea of getting the upper hand on Rex, of being on the offensive and not the defensive, is pretty appealing.

“It’s a huge risk,” I tell them.

“It’s more than risky,” V calls down the stairs. “No way I’m letting you idiots march up to Rex Malone’s house to shoot his wife full of immunity serum. It’s suicide.”

“It’s not suicide!” Rebel shouts up at her. “Once we break the mind control, she will protect us. I guarantee.”

“Fine, you heroes can go,” V says, descending back into view. “But the Cole boys aren’t going.”

“The hell we aren’t,” Dante says.

“No offense, but I’m not about to put my charges’ lives in the hands of the girl who was trying to kill them less than twenty-four hours ago!”

“Unfair, V, and you know it,” Dante snarls.

I slip my hand in Rebel’s, letting her know without words that we all understand that wasn’t really her. “I’m in.”

She gives me a watery smile.

Dante moves to her other side. “I’m not letting her go home without me.”

“And I’m not letting Dante go anywhere without me,” Deacon chimes in.

“Where the twins go—” Draven starts.

“Yeah, yeah. I get it,” V snaps. “You’re going and there’s nothing I can do about it.” She reaches for her phone. “Except call Anton and see what he has to say about all of this.”

She clearly expects the guys to back down at the threat, except apparently she doesn’t know the Cole boys as well as she thinks she does. Draven just looks at her, one brow raised challengingly. “You can do that, but I’m not sure what you think it’s going to accomplish. By the time he gets here, we’ll be long gone.”

“And you’ll either be with us,” Dante says, “or locked up with the heroes.”

Deacon stands shoulder to shoulder with them, arms crossed over his chest. “Your choice.”

I bite back the biggest grin I’ve felt like smiling in weeks. It takes all my restraint not to applaud their stand.

V pulls herself up to her fairly intimidating height of almost six feet and looks Draven straight in the eye. “It’s cute that you think you can take me.”

“We both know I can. But I don’t want to. Rebel thinks Mrs. Malone can help us, and at this point it’s the only lead we have. My girl is going with her, which means so am I. Dante is going with Rebel too. And Deacon’s with us.”

“Me too,” Riley adds, joining the line of us standing up to V.

Draven nods at him. “I don’t know what the rest of you are doing, but the six of us are going to the Malone house, and there’s nothing you or Anton or anyone else can do to stop us.”

Silence reigns for long seconds as Draven and V square off in the middle of the room. Nobody moves; nobody blinks. I’m not sure any of us even breathe. At least not until Nitro says, “Oi. You set one guy’s hair on fire, and suddenly you’re not an honorary member of the pack anymore? I see how it is.”

It’s the tension release we need, and everyone cracks up—even V and Draven. They break eye contact and step out of their pissing match.

“Right?” Jeremy says. “You guys wouldn’t last two minutes without me.”

“That just leaves you, V,” Draven says.

We all turn to look at her expectantly. She glares at each of us in turn, clearly trying to decide if she needs to save face or just throw in the towel. In the end, she rolls her eyes. “Fine. But when Anton kills me, I expect you to mourn.”

Deacon laughs. “Forget Anton. If you hang around us much longer, we’ll get you killed way before you have to worry about Anton.”

It’s getting dark by the time the immunity serum is ready and we make the long, tense drive to Rebel’s parents’ house. After everything that’s happened, it feels weird calling it
her
house, so I don’t. I find it telling that neither does she.

Then again, it never really felt like a home to her. More like a place she lived in until she could get away.

And now she’s away.

The closer we get to the Malones’, the quieter the van gets. Riley is in the far back, resting his head on Nitro’s shoulder. Rebel is next to me in the middle seat, nervously tugging at the hem of her T-shirt while Dante massages her shoulders from behind. She’s spent so long pretending she doesn’t need or want her parents’ approval that I almost forgot what a crock that was. Until now.

She may despise her dad and everything he stands for, but at her core he’s still her dad. It’s not in Rebel’s nature to write someone off completely.

I just hope we’re doing the right thing.

Jeremy volunteered to be a test subject for the new batch of serum, arguing that he should be on prophylactic immunity to make sure the heroes don’t start controlling him. As crazy as it sounded, it also made sense.

We gave Riley a dose too. If heroes really are more susceptible to the mind control, then they should all be protected.

The serum started working on both of them right away. Which makes me think it only took so long to work on Rebel because she was unconscious. In a conscious subject, the effects are almost instantaneous.

So we know the serum works—and works quickly. Now we just have to wait and see if it works on Mrs. Malone.

I glance at Draven, hoping he can reassure me. But the moment our eyes meet, I realize he’s as uncertain about this as I am. My confidence level plummets. It must be written on my face, because he wraps his arm around my shoulders and pulls me against him.

I go gratefully, so tired and confused and sad that all I really want to do is bury my head in his chest and stay there forever. When this is over, I promise myself as we make the turn into Rebel’s old neighborhood, I’m going to spend hours—days—blocking out the world with the help of Draven’s arms.

“You doing okay?” he murmurs softly into my ear as he strokes my shoulder and tangles his fingers in my hair.

“Yeah.” It’s a lie and both of us know it, but he doesn’t call me on it. He just nods and pulls me a little bit closer, his lips ghosting over my temple.

It feels good, really good, and I’m so glad to have him back at my side.

I haven’t had time to truly appreciate it since we rescued him, what with being constantly on the run and all, but it’s a huge relief to know he’s just…here. I don’t have to do any of this alone anymore.

I’ve had my team through everything that happened—even when Draven was a prisoner and Rebel was under mind control—and they were invaluable. They kept me sane. Even Nitro, with his fireballs and weird sense of humor, somehow managed to keep me from falling apart.

But having Draven here now, absently playing with my hair, checking in on me, knowing what I’m thinking almost before I do—it’s different than only being surrounded by our friends. It’s… I don’t know how to describe this feeling except
better
.

“This will all be over soon,” he says, his lips moving from my temple to my cheek to my jaw. I turn my head and press my mouth to his. And for a few seconds let myself pretend that this kiss, this moment, this
boy
, is all that matters.

He kisses me back, his mouth sweet and hard against my own. I burrow closer, wanting to lose myself in him. He pulls away, his breathing a little harder and his hand a little shakier than it was moments ago.

I want to protest, to press my mouth to his again and kiss him until all the doubt and fear and pain go away. Until everything we’ve done, everything we still have to do, no longer exists.

But the van slams to a stop—V wants to make sure we all know she is driving under protest—at the curb in front of Rex’s house. Nerves flutter down my spine, and I grab hold of Draven’s free hand as he uses his other to push open the door.

He climbs out and then helps me out, all without letting go of my hand. I take Rebel’s hand as soon as she’s on the sidewalk. With her other hand, she checks her pocket, where the syringe of immunity serum is tucked away.

Dante wraps her close to his side, but I don’t let go of her hand. She’s nearly vibrating out of her skin with nerves or excitement or, most likely, a combination of both.

The four of us take the lead, walking up the driveway as a united front. The rest of the team follows close behind. V hesitates, like she’s thinking about staying in the van out of spite. But then she falls into step, bringing up the rear. I remind myself that, together, we are unstoppable.

“I’ll talk us in the door,” Rebel says, going over the plan one more time before we reach the entrance. “If I can’t get close enough to shoot her full of immunity serum, Riley will get her with his syringe.”

I give her hand a squeeze. “It should only take a few seconds to start working.”

“When it does,” Rebel continues, as if it’s a foregone conclusion that her mom is being controlled, “we’ll explain everything my fa—everything Rex has done. Once she knows the truth, she’ll have to help us.”

I nod encouragingly, but I know it’s not enough. I know she’s waiting for me to say something about how perfectly our plan will go. How I’m sure she’s right about her mom and how this is going to help us take down her dad and the whole evil hero organization.

But I can’t force out the words—not now, when I’m feeling so shattered. I’m waiting for the next blow, and I’d be lying if I said I’m not afraid that that blow is going to come at the hands of Morgan Malone.

Rebel waits a few more seconds for me—for someone—to chime in, but when we all just look at her solemnly, she huffs out a sigh. Then turns and presses the perfectly polished doorbell.

The door is answered moments later by Celia, the Malones’ housekeeper. She gasps when she sees Rebel, her eyes growing huge at the entourage her boss’s only daughter has brought with her.

“Hi, Celia,” Rebel says, stepping over the threshold and into the foyer without waiting to be invited in. “These are Riley’s and my new friends. We were just stopping by because we want to see Mom. Is she around?” She doesn’t give Celia a chance to answer before ushering everyone inside and then launching into a rapid-fire speech about how much she likes Celia’s dress. Her shoes. Her new hair color.

By the time Rebel’s nervous babble winds down, we’re all a little shell-shocked. Including Celia, who lets out a little squeak that, along with erratic hand gestures, I take to mean
have a seat in the parlor
. Then she dashes down the hall toward the wing of the house that Mrs. Malone uses for her office and personal space.

“Should I follow her?” Rebel asks. “I mean, this
is
still my house, right? I don’t need to wait for my mom like I’m some stranger.”

“It’s okay, babe,” Dante tells her, ushering her toward the parlor. “Let’s just sit down.”

His eyes meet mine above her head, and that’s when I know that he has the same sense of foreboding I do. The same sense we’re going to have to pick up the Rebel-shaped pieces when this goes very, very wrong.

We all follow Rebel into the parlor and take seats on the various pieces of fussy furniture. It feels more like a museum than a home. And then we wait.

More than once I glance at Draven. I’m uncomfortable and afraid that we’re going to have to fight our way out of this place too. But what if Rex has security that even Jeremy and I can’t disable? What if we don’t have what it takes to get out of
this
house?

After what feels like forever but is probably only a couple of minutes, Mrs. Malone comes striding across the foyer and into the parlor.

“Rachel,” she says, eyebrows raised and mouth tight with disapproval. “What are you doing with these people? And why are you dressed like that? Go to your room and put on something more appropriate.”

Out of all the possible reactions I’d imagined from Morgan Malone, from shock to rage to instant ice storm, that one didn’t even make the top hundred. I exchange another look with Dante. Maybe Rebel and Riley are right. Maybe their mom
is
under mind control.

She turns to her son. “And, Riley. What have you been thinking? Consorting with criminals. Bringing them into my house. It’s a miracle they haven’t killed all of us in our sleep!”

Yep. Mind control is looking more and more like a real possibility.

“Look, Mom.” Rebel stands up, her hand in her left pocket. “Things have been crazy lately, and I want it all to be over. I just want to come home. Riley wants to come home too.”

Mrs. Malone sniffs. “Yes, well, you can explain that to your father when he gets home. I left a message for him to come and deal with this situation once and for all.”

Her words send a ripple of fear through the whole room. She’s already called Rex and told him that we’re here
in his hom
e
! Why didn’t any of us think about that? Why did we let Celia go get Mrs. Malone? We should have snuck in and ambushed her.

Before any of us can react, Rebel throws herself into her mother’s arms with a sob. “I’m sorry, Mom. I’m so sorry. I got confused and I made a terrible mistake. But I’m going to make it better.”

“You certainly will. And while your—” Mrs. Malone screams as Rebel slams the needle hard into the flesh where her neck meets her shoulder and pushes in the plunger.

“Rachel! What are you doing?” She struggles to push her daughter away.

“It’s okay, Mom. Everything will make sense in just a few seconds.”

“Have you poisoned me?” Mrs. Malone shrieks, grabbing at her neck.

“Of course not! I’m trying to help you.”

“Mom, it’s okay,” Riley says. “We just want you to hear the truth from us—”

“I know the truth!” Her eyes are wild as she stares at Riley. “How did you break your sister free from the mind control?”

“What?” Rebel sounds like someone punched her in the stomach.

Mrs. Malone ignores her, focused on Riley. “Your father said yours would fade in time—they didn’t have all the kinks worked out until a few years ago—but Rebel’s should have been permanent. Foolproof.”

“You know about this?” Rebel asks, her voice stretched thin with tears. Her hands fall limp at her sides, and she backs away from her mom. “You know about the mind control?”

“Of course I know about it,” Mrs. Malone says indignantly, shifting her attention back to her daughter. “Your father and I don’t keep secrets from each other.”

“And you let him do it? You let him control you too?”

Now she looks at Rebel like
she’s
insane. “I’m not being controlled. I support his mission.”

“It’s not working.” Rebel looks at me frantically. “Did you make it wrong?”

“I don’t think it’s the—”

“You made it wrong,” she insists. “Make a new batch.”

Dante reaches for her. “Babe, you saw it work on—”

“No,” she says, wrenching out of his reach. “No! She’s not immune.”

Nitro lobs a fireball straight at Mrs. Malone. She squawks, tries to duck, but it slams straight into her. It doesn’t do any damage when it hits though. Instead, the fireball disintegrates on impact.

“The serum is working just fine,” Nitro says in disgust. “It’s her brain that ain’t.”

“That can’t be right,” Riley whispers.

Dante sends a gale of wind straight at Mrs. Malone. It knocks the china off the shelves behind her but doesn’t touch a hair on her head.

“Traitors!” Mrs. Malone yells. “You are traitors to your family, traitors to your people.”

V snarls. “She’s as crazy as her husband.”

“Villain bitch,” Mrs. Malone says, spitting in V’s direction.

It all happens in a flash. V lunges for her, but freezes midstep—literally—when Mrs. Malone fires back with a wave of ice.

“Draven?” Dante says, with a hint of desperation as Mrs. Malone turns on Rebel.

“I’m trying,” Draven says. “But she’s immune.”

Then, before anyone else can act, Deacon grabs Mrs. Malone in a headlock and applies a sharp pressure to the side of her neck, just behind her hero mark. And we all watch in silence as Rebel and Riley’s mother falls to the ground, out cold.