Love in Electric Blue (Westlake Enterprises) (19 page)

“They’re here.” She heard Cole through the earpiece she wore.

“And I have our guy. Let’s go. David, I’m Hunter. I’m on your side, provided you weren’t fucking with us about wanting to nail Carter.”

To his credit, David didn’t cower. “I’m straight up about wanting out. I swear.”

“Then we need to leave. I don’t trust the commotion.” He pulled David with him, prodding Remy to the right where Cole stood waiting. Seeing him, and knowing J.D. was near as well, relieved her. Because she felt that same itch Hunter did. Something wasn’t right. This was all too easy.

They entered the crowded club together, and the noise and energy seemed to swell. Someone shoved Remy aside. As she struggled to regain her footing, people pushed and swore. A fight broke out. A hand latched on to her arm, and she gathered her energy to strike out, having prepared for such a situation.

“Come on,” J.D. yelled and tugged her with him.

Over her shoulder, between the many bodies now separating them, she saw Hunter dragging David toward Cole.
Thank God.
They might actually get out of here in one piece. And with David’s help, they could infiltrate Carter’s laboratory and finally put an end to that scum-sucking—

“Nice to see you again,” a voice purred in her ear and ripped her from J.D.

“Damn it, Remy, what—?” J.D. yelled before he cut off.

Hell. She’d been expecting someone. Just her luck Lennox had arrived. She avoided the syringe and blasted him with a bolt of energy. But she hadn’t counted on getting zapped by the guys behind him. The jolt shook her and gave them enough time to shoot her with a tranquilizer.

Damn.

“I’m going under,” she warned.

“Remy!”

Oh boy. J.D. was not going to be happy about this. But they had no other choice.

“No problem, Remy. We have you.”
Thorne, the other mind reader belonging to Buchanan Investigations.

“J.D., don’t worry. I’m good,” she slurred and let herself ease into unconsciousness, knowing the others would find her. Now time to let her uncle think he’d won. He was never easier to play than when he got cocky.

J.D. saw her nail Lennox before two unfamiliar men tased her. Then some other asshole shot a dart into her shoulder.
Fuck.
How the hell had none of them seen Carter’s men? They’d scouted the entire building. Something didn’t seem right about this.

“Hunter! Cole!”
He sent electronic messages through his transmitter, not bothering with his voice. The crowd crushed him before he could push through again, obscuring his view of Remy.

Hunter was already pushing through people to get to him, his expression fierce, his eyes bright with a hunter’s edge. David was nowhere in sight, nor was Cole, and J.D. hoped the pair had gotten away.

But Remy… He didn’t see her anywhere.
Shit.
Determined not to panic, he reached out with his energy to find her. She wore a transmitter, after all. But he found nothing, meaning they’d knocked her out and blocked her.
Now,
he panicked.

Lennox shook off the shock that should have kept him down longer.

“What the hell do you want?” J.D. asked when the bastard drew closer, shoving those near him out of the way.

“Do you remember me, Joshua? Remember the games we used to play?”

J.D. had done his best to forget that part of his past. When Lennox would suck up the reluctant energy leaking from too many of Carter’s experiments. From what J.D. had gathered, Lennox had abilities similar to his and Remy’s, just with not as much power behind him. He couldn’t seem to hold a charge, like a dying battery. Which made him just another of Carter’s many sycophants, willing to do anything for the good doctor’s approval.

“You’re an asshole, Lennox. Still kissing Carter’s ass, eh?”

Lennox grinned, which caused his scar to pull and made his smile a grotesque caricature of mirth. Not an attractive man at all. “Dr. Carter is a genius. But you know that. He’s found a way around your abilities.” Lennox held up the tranq gun. “And he’s ready for Lizzie to come home. You too, if you’re strong enough.”

The crowded dance floor had mostly cleared, and J.D. saw the half-dozen men behind Lennox, fanning out into a half circle.

“Hunter?” J.D. said aloud.

“I see them,” Hunter growled from his periphery.

“Better back off.”

“No fucking way.”

J.D. had a bad feeling. The maniacal gleam in Lennox’s eyes took him back to an earlier time, when the psycho ran Carter’s experiments. Back when his play caused nothing but pain.

A dangerous energy buzzed from those surrounding him, an unfamiliar tingle that felt strange, because it didn’t originate from one source, but from a combination of multiple energy signatures. Oh man, not good.

“You’re not the only ones, not anymore.” Lennox tittered and moved back. “Let’s see if you remember how to play.”

The men around him brought their hands up, and the buzzing inside J.D. turned into a roar. Energy flared hot, and his own power burned, begging to be set free…or consumed by the chaos around him.

He barely had time to counter before he lost himself in the haze. When J.D. had been a subject at the Institute, Lennox’s favorite game had been to see how much energy J.D. could absorb before burning out. He could normally knock a few of his tormenters unconscious before losing his faculties himself. But never six-on-one—or seven, if he counted Lennox.

Fortunately, Hunter moved fast and helped even the odds. Better. J.D. fought like hell to remain in control. He’d rather shut down than become what Carter had always wanted—a human superconductor. He’d never let that bastard turn him into a monster, and he wouldn’t start now. There were too many innocent bystanders still scrambling in the club, many of whom now ringed the spectacle of flashing lights and webbed electricity.

They must have thought it a show because chants of “fight, fight” grew louder, and he had difficulty focusing without unleashing hell on earth for those watching.

“You’re much stronger,” he heard Lennox say before J.D. lost himself in the energy he directed at another opponent.

The bastard screamed and twitched, and J.D. couldn’t help it. He grew high on the blazing pain that reverberated back, an ecstatic rush of endorphins that made him want more. His opponent shrieked and lit up in a glow before turning into a human torch.

Finally realizing the real danger around them, the crowd screamed and fled, knocking into each other as they raced toward the exit. And still, no sign of Remy.

“Fuck you, Lennox,” J.D. seethed. “Where’s Remy?” He lashed out at another of the enemy, while Hunter wrestled with the last man standing.

A flutter of feedback told him he’d let more go than he’d intended. The myriad lights above them shattered and rained glass. The bottles at the bar exploded. People screamed as streams of electricity shot from his body, through the metallic shards in the decorative floor, and shocked the handful of people not yet through the exits.

“
Fuck.
J.D., hold on,” Hunter yelled. “And try to aim that shit
away
from me.”

“Beautiful.” Lennox sounded dreamy. The creep should have been down for the count. Instead, he seemed to be absorbing the power. Maybe he had something on him that interfered with J.D.’s energy. It would make sense that Carter would equip his men with tools to survive. Apparently the others hadn’t mattered.

“We really must get you and Lizzie together again,” Lennox said on a sigh. “See you soon, if you survive.”

Lennox raised the gun and shot before J.D. could protect himself. Instead of a bullet in his shoulder, a dart sank into the flesh of his arm.

“Damn. Hunter—” Within seconds, a hazy lassitude came over him.

“Hold…on…” he thought he heard Hunter yell.

Remy, where’s Remy?
he tried to say, but he couldn’t form the words.

Cole handed Bellamy over to the agents waiting outside in their backup SUV. He watched as the vehicle tore out of the parking lot, then he called his uncle with not-so-good news.

“Bellamy is on his way, but we lost Remy.”

“Damn it.” Max swore some more. It impressed Cole that his uncle could be that creative, yet still sound as calm as if ordering at a bar. “Hell. Your cousin called it. Said Remy would be in the hands of her enemy again.”

They’d known but hadn’t told J.D., because no way in hell would the stubborn bastard have let Remy go through with the plan. But to defeat the devil, they had to get in bed with him, just a little. Though Cole hadn’t liked it either, he supported Remy’s decision to deal with her past, her way.

“Not sure what’s up yet. I need to go back in and find Hunter.”

“Well? Do it.”

“I’m going, I’m going,” Cole muttered and tucked his phone away while he skirted freaked-out and crying twenty-somethings. The club was a madhouse, bodies pressing against each other and playing hell with his talent. He tried to keep a lid on his psychometry, wearing gloves to protect himself so he wouldn’t know details about everything he touched. But with the bodies grazing him every which way, he started to lose focus.

Barbara cheated on me.

He’s totally hot. I think I’ll go home with him if I can ditch Jacob.

Why the hell didn’t we hit Loutton’s instead of this dive tonight?

Gritting his teeth, he shoved his way back inside and had just reached the bar when a heavy-duty shock lit him from the inside out. When he could make his limbs work again, he got to his feet, only to have a fist the size of Texas ram into his face, then his midsection.

He went down hard but grabbed on to his assailant’s pant leg as he fell…which gave him the warning he needed to avoid the knife to his heart. Instead, he shifted and the blade found his shoulder.

“Shit.”
Totally not his night.

With a roar, he kicked the bastard in the knee and watched him go down hard.

Still trying to get his bearings, he didn’t see the next asshole coming at him until it was too late. But then Hunter was there. And, wow, Hunter in action was a thing of beauty.

His brother-in-law tore through four opponents like a heavyweight champ fighting Girl Scouts.

More shrieking around him. He heard sirens in the distance. But when he could see past the spots in his vision, he noted J.D. hanging limply over Hunter’s shoulder. No one remained standing in the now empty dance club. Well, empty except for the many bodies laying around. Some bloody, some not.

“All dead?” he slurred.

“No. Mostly unconscious. J.D. shorted out brain cells before they knocked him out. Lennox was here. I saw the bastard’s scar.” He leaned down toward Cole and cocked his head. “Sorry. After we dealt with the dickheads with Lennox, I thought we were clear. I hadn’t seen the extra muscle they brought until they were pounding you into tomorrow. But Thorne took out a bunch too.”

“’S’kay.” Christ. His head felt like it would split in two.

“Situation’s contained, but we need to leave before the cops arrive, in like, the next three minutes. And, buddy, you really look like shit.”

Hunter yanked Cole to his feet—which hurt like a
bitch
—and corralled him out the door while still carrying J.D. over his shoulder.

“Strong bastard,” Cole taunted, but he had a hard time getting the words out. His shoulder hurt like hell and his face was numb. But that shouldn’t have affected his thought processes so badly. Whatever had zapped him earlier had done a number on his coordination. As they walked, he had to lean more and more on Hunter, who already had a heavy burden.

They entered the back parking lot and Cole realized Hunter had been feeding someone information the entire time. Because when they left the lot and turned the corner, three SUVs stood waiting. His cousin Thorne hurried to his side.

“What…you doing here?” he managed. Oh right. Hunter had mentioned his cousin before. Wait. What?

Thorne frowned. “Stupid SOB. I told Max not to make a move without us. But did he listen? No. Now Carter has Remy, and J.D.’s going to have a major meltdown. And you… Son, you’re in bad shape.” Sirens grew closer. “Come on, man. We need to fly. Cops are almost here.”

Hunter disappeared with J.D. in a vehicle and took off. Thorne grabbed him and did the same. The ride back to their temporary headquarters in the hotel seemed to take forever.

Cole remembered something he’d seen and snorted.

“You okay? You really do look terrible,” Thorne said from beside him in the backseat.

Cole rolled his head on the headrest and grinned. “Yeah, I do, but not as bad as Uncle Max is gonna look when J.D. finds out what happened. Fucker burned bodies, man. Like electrocuted them. Fried chicken,” he said when an image of a dancing chicken intruded.

“Hell. Did you understand any of that?” Thorne must have asked the driver. “He’s a goner. Relax, cousin. You need to rest.” Thorne patted his good shoulder.

“Sleep, Cole. I’ll wake you when we get there.”
The mental order felt like Uncle Max, and Cole drifted, sure that he was protected, and wishing Remy could say the same.