Secret

CHAPTER 31

Nick swayed with the motion of Tyler’s truck. He leaned against Adam and wished his head would stop aching. At Quinn’s insistence that they couldn’t drive around town covered in blood, he’d washed his face in the studio bathroom—at least the water worked—but now he was damp and cold and shivering. Shock, probably.

Or maybe it had something to do with the agonizing pain he’d felt when he’d pried a bullet fragment out of his own forehead.

Adam had found him on the tile floor, and he’d been ready to drag Nick to a hospital again.

But now they were in the truck.

He didn’t trust Tyler. At all.

But what choice did he have?

Tyler’s cell phone didn’t work, either. The Guide’s car was still in front of the studio, windows blasted out. The trees along the road had been ripped out of the ground and lay across the parking lot, except for a few taller ones that lay across power lines.

The Guide was on foot, then. Good, in a way, because it would buy them some time.

Tyler had to veer around fallen trees, and every swerve made Nick clench his teeth and grip Adam’s hand. The smaller trees and branches, Tyler drove straight over. That was worse. A few cars had run off the road here and there, and sirens wailed in every direction, but they kept driving. Once they got a mile away, trees were standing and they encountered more vehicles, but traffic lights were still nonfunctional.

No one was talking.

In the silence, Nick could only think of his brothers, and he was going to freak the fuck out if he kept doing that.

“What made you come back?” Nick finally asked, making no effort to keep the distrust from his voice.

“Quinn,” said Tyler. He glanced over at her, sitting curled in the passenger seat. “I realized you were doing it again, pushing me away to see if I’d snap back.”

“No,” she said, “I was pushing you away because you were an asshole.”

“That, then.”

And they lapsed back into silence.

Gabriel, Nick thought. He wished his brother was with them now. He’d know what to do. He’d take charge and organize a plan. He’d figure out a way to find Michael and Chris, or at least a way to warn them.

“They’ll be okay,” Adam murmured. “We’ll find them.”

Nick looked up to find his eyes, warm and worried and intent on his. “You’re taking this well.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure my brain will explode with wtf any minute.”

“I’m sorry,” Nick said. “I should have—”

“Told me?” Adam gave a small laugh, but there wasn’t much humor behind it. “You can fill in the blanks later.” He paused. “Well, maybe you can fill in one now. How exactly did you do . . . whatever?”

“A pressure wave,” said Nick. “You ever see an explosion on television, where it blows people back?”

“Yeah?”

Nick nodded. “Like that. All air pressure. It didn’t stop the bullet, but it stopped it enough.”

Quinn twisted in her seat. “And that blew out the windows?”

Nick winced. “Honestly, we’re lucky it didn’t bring the building down on top of us.”

“You’re lucky you didn’t wreck my truck,” said Tyler, meeting Nick’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “The shock wave ran me off the road.”

“Yeah, too bad,” Nick snapped.

“Hey, dickhead, I’m helping you—”

“Shut up,” said Quinn. Nick shut up, but she was really glaring at Tyler. She was twisted on the seat and jabbing at him. “You don’t get to be nasty to him. You don’t get to say anything to him. Do you understand me? If you want to talk to Nick, if you want to talk to my friend, the first word out of your mouth better be I and the next words better be am sorry. Otherwise, shut the fuck up and drive.”

“Don’t waste your breath,” said Nick bitterly, though he appreciated the sentiment. “He’s not sorry.”

Tyler met his eyes in the rearview mirror again, and Nick expected him to snap back with something vicious, but he held the eye contact for a second, then looked away.

He cleared his throat, and when he spoke, his voice was rough. “Can you do that again?” he said. “The pressure wave?”

Nick hesitated, wondering if there was a trap in the question. “I don’t know.” He paused and glanced down at Adam’s fingers linked with his. “I didn’t know I could do it in the first place. It wasn’t on purpose—sometimes power takes over when we’re in danger, and we can’t fully control it.” His voice turned sharp and mocking. “Know anything about that, Tyler?”

“You covered a lot of ground,” Tyler said, ignoring his tone. “At least two miles. Could you do something smaller scale to warn your brothers somehow?”

Nick wasn’t sure. He thought of his connection to Gabriel again, tried to focus on it, to imagine what his brother was doing right now.

Was this a typical twin connection? Or did it have something to do with his element? Did the air know Gabriel, know their bond? All this time, was it just a matter of feeding power into the atmosphere?

He had no idea.

“Open the windows,” he said.

Tyler pushed the button, and wind streamed through the truck’s cab. Nick listened to the air, threading his power among the currents.

Danger, the wind whispered.

No kidding, he thought back. But then he paid more attention, focusing on the source of that danger. The clouds overhead were shifting, darkening in the south, promising a storm sometime in the future.

A storm. Rain.

Chris.

But Nick didn’t sense Chris’s power in the storm. Feeding energy into the wind might get them nowhere.

Tyler came to a stop sign at the end of Magothy Beach Road. “Still going to your house?” he said.

“Wait,” said Nick. “Just wait.”

They were half a mile from the house now. The air here was calmer: the storm was a few miles off yet.

Gabriel, he thought, sending power into the sky.

For an instant, nothing.

Then he felt it, his brother’s presence, like a blazing beacon in his mind.

“Fire,” said Tyler.

“Where?” asked Quinn. Nick didn’t sense it, either—but then again, he wasn’t a Fire Elemental.

And then he felt it, the reason danger rode the wind. It had nothing to do with the storm in the east.

And everything to do with the smoke to the west.

Quinn spent each moment vacillating between wanting to kill Tyler and wanting to hug him.

“Stay in the truck,” he snapped, when he parked alongside the woods. She could smell the smoke now, a primal scent that warned her to stay away.

But she glared at Tyler and climbed out anyway.

“Stay in the truck,” Nick agreed. But he wasn’t focused on her. He was focused on the woods. She wondered how much he could sense, whether Gabriel was in immediate danger. “This guy isn’t messing around. You saw that.”

“He didn’t shoot me in the dance studio,” she said. “Didn’t you tell me that they don’t kill normal people?”

“They kill anyone,” said Tyler, “if it leads to the greater good. He didn’t kill you in the dance studio because you weren’t a threat.”

“Well, I’m not exactly a threat now—”

A gun fired in the woods, and Nick and Tyler both jerked her down and against the truck. Adam crouched beside them.

“I am not helpless!” she snapped. But her heartbeat was in her ears, blocking other sounds.

Nick was practically breathless. Too pale. He’d healed his head wound, but she wondered how much damage he’d really taken. “Can you get to the house?” he said. “Everyone’s number is on the wall. Call Michael. Tell him—tell him—”

“I’m not leaving you,” she said.

“Damn it, Quinn, I can’t help them all! I need—I want—”

Another gunshot. Everyone froze.

The wind kicked up, a sudden gust that lifted her hair. The air temperature dropped ten degrees. Nick went paler, if that was possible. “He’s hurt. He’s hurt. He’s—”

Another shot.

“Go,” said Tyler. “If you can get to a phone, call nine-one-one.”

“We’ll go,” said Adam. “Come on, Quinn.”

Then he grabbed her hand and dragged her, not leaving any room for argument.