Beyond These Walls (23 page)

My family.

My parents had surprised me with a mutant party. Nobody was there, so was Quinn, looking like a mutated version of James Dean. We’d stuffed ourselves on birthday cake and sodas. Behind Calvin’s pickup truck Quinn had snuck our first kiss. I responded with trembling lips and a hard smack to his boyish cheek, after the fact of course. And later that perfect night, my parents had hugged me tightly as I’d thrown up birthday cake and soda-pop. It was one of my fondest memories.

I suddenly hated London for stealing my memory. As quickly as that feeling surfaced, it vanished beneath a heaviness in my heart. I’d had family. Parents who loved me. Who had loved London? Who had bandaged her skinned knees, or read to her from Mutant and the Beast? Even after I’d lost my biological family, I had the Daniels clan to protect me. Who had protected London?

Smiling, London ventured back into the bedroom. She wiped my face without even a hint of disgust. I sighed. Damn, I couldn’t kill her. Crazy sister or not. We were products of our environment, both fucked up in our own way. Sure, my way didn’t include destroying mutantity, but nobody was perfect.

“Nice picture.” I nodded to my family photo. “Where’d you get it?”

“Calvin.” Her eyes lit with a grin. “He gave it to me for my eleventh birthday.”

I frowned. “Why?”

“I assume because it was my birthday.” She shook her head. “In case you didn’t know, it’s rude to question the motives of someone who gives you a gift.” Her tone carried both censure and humor.

I laughed despite my current situation. “I wasn’t asking why he gave it to you, but why he gave it to,” I stressed the last word, “you.”

“Because I tried to save their lives.” She motioned to the photograph. “I failed though. Just like Arthur said I would.” Her face tightened. “But not this time. This time the vaccine will work. It has to.”

“You made Calvin human?” I frowned, confused by her words. “That doesn’t make sense. He died a
Stannum
.”

“Pay attention, Indeara.” She shook her head and frowned, lecturing me like a dimwitted child. “The vaccine alters mutated genes.”

I rolled my eyes. “I know that. So what’s your point?”

“The mutant plague is like cancer, or AIDS,” she said. I expected her to pull out a pie chart at any second. I’d have no choice but to kill her then. She continued, sans graphs, “It changes ones genetic code so their cells mutate and hence grow. That’s how it survives, and replicates.”

“And?”

London threw up her hands. “And the vaccine fixes the altered cells. It can save mutant lives.”

“What?” I jumped up but the tape covering my body slammed me back against the bed. “Are you telling me Resden’s vaccine can destroy the plague?” I didn’t believe her, not for a minute. Arthur Resden would never help mutants. Hell, the man made the killer plague in the first place.

“No.” She shook her head. “Resden’s vaccine can’t.”

“I knew—”

“But mine can, and does. At least in certain mutants.” She motioned to the blue liquid dripping into my arm. “You’re proof of that. You see, Arthur created the plague, and I created the vaccine to cure it.” Acidic laughter burst from her lips. “Not that I knew it at the time.”

I had a feeling her story wasn’t going to endear me to dead old Arthur. London swallowed and an eerie calmness settled across her features. “Arthur and my loving husband, David, twisted my cure into…” She paused, shaking her head. “A weapon. I thought they loved me, but the only thing either of them ever loved was their own hate.”

“You killed David, didn’t you?” The truth was there, in the way she spoke his name, as if she’d gargled daily with guilt, regret, and hate. I’d heard that tone before, from my own mouth, right after taking three bullets to the chest.

London twisted her finger underneath the edge of the duct tape binding my arm. She yanked, breaking through the ribbon and freeing me. I stayed completely still. Her tongue darted out, wetting her lips. “I had no choice. It was either him or mutantity.”

I frowned. My brain felt like it had run a Mutant-5K, all in a big fucking circle. London had killed her husband, in order to save the very mutants she sent a crazed agent to destroy. Not only that but she’d also developed a vaccine that could end the plague as well as mutantity. A vaccine she later stole, and now claimed to use to save me, her mutant half-sister.

Busy girl.

And to think my only accomplishment in twenty-five years was employee of the month at the Lair, which didn’t sound so bad, except I was the only employee. I shook my head. “But you sent Umber to kill Jake, to destroy the Resistance. Why?”

Sorrow swelled inside me as I pictured Jake’s face, battered and bruised, as he spoke words of love. Of hope. When he’d held me in his arms, I felt safe, cherished, and loved. Something I hadn’t felt in a long time, and she’d taken that away.

“Jake only wanted what you want. A single world. A place where mutants and humans thrive. Together. A place to feel safe.”

“Indeara, you must believe me.” London closed her eyes. “I didn’t kill Jake.”

“Then who did?”

“I did.” The bedroom door opened, and in walked a dead man.

Chapter 53

“Quinn?” My eyes searched Quinn Daniel’s scarred face, memorizing every detail. He looked exhausted, large dark circles rimmed his grey eyes. Healing cuts puckered his skin, cuts left by the HOA. In that cage he’d gone through hell. But he’d survived. Not like Jake. Jake never had a chance. I blinked back tears of anger, grief, and relief. Quinn was alive.

Oh, God.

Quinn was alive.

It was almost too much for my mind to take. The man I once loved had killed the man I could’ve loved. Damn, it sounded like a script from
As the Mutant Turns
. A bad script at that. “Why Quinn? Why kill Jake?”

Quinn stalked across the room away from me as if I was diseased. Which I wasn’t, thanks to my newfound sibling and her miracle cure. Quinn gazed out the window and then turned slowly to face me. “I had to do it.” He shrugged and as if we were discussing the weather, added, “A part of me enjoyed it too. Two rounds into his lifeless, protruding forehead. Poor Jake never saw it coming.”

My stomach rolled and I swallowed a wave of bile that rose up with his every word. “But why?”

“You.” Quinn took a step forward. I flinched, and he stopped, his face settling into a mask of anger. “Right there. That’s the reason why.” He pointed at my eyes. “When you looked at him, your eyes turned warm, like liquid jade.”

“I—”

“But when you look at me,” he sighed, “it’s with disgust. I see the betrayal in your eyes. The hurt.” His lips thinned. “How could you let him touch you, make love to you? How could you forget me when I can’t get you out of my head?”

I pulled at my taped limbs, tearing away duct tape and skin. Finally, the tape gave and I was free. Except for the huge IV needle jabbed into my vein. A part of me wanted to run to Quinn, to wrap my arms around him, but sanity prevailed. Sure Quinn Daniels was alive, but, by his admission, he was also a cold-blooded killer.

“I don’t regret what I’ve done.” Quinn shook his head and gave a little laugh. “Not for a minute.”

London smiled, glancing between us. “That’s not quite true.”

Flexing his arms across his chest, he glared at my beauty queen of a sister. The look he gave her told me more about their relationship than the last two hours had. He looked at her much like I looked at Mikey, brotherly and half-disgusted.

“Quinn’s regrets are many.” Ignoring his glare London yanked the IV from my arm and blotted at a stream of blood sliding down my skin. “But he’s paid his dues, and now deserves the life I borrowed from him three years ago.” Her eyes flashed to Quinn.

“Was she the reason you shot me?” I jumped off the bed in one fluid movement, stabbing my finger in London’s direction. Was I wrong about them? Did Quinn love her? The thought stuck in my throat. For the third time in an hour, I wanted to strangle my own sister. My eyes shot tiny green daggers at her.

Quinn smiled and backed up a step. London, on the other hand, appeared not to recognize her peril. I glanced at Quinn. “Why not just tell me the truth? I would’ve let you go.” I swallowed. “If you loved her.”

“Good to know.” Quinn smiled, his eyes darkening, and with a couple of quick strides, he stood in front of me. I could feel the heat of his skin, smell the scent of toothpaste on his mouth.

Even if I forgave Quinn for what he’d done to me, I could never forget Jake’s ultimate sacrifice. Jake had save the resistance and gave his life. Quinn must pay for that. I would make him pay. My fists clenched, preparing for our final battle. Good versus evil or something in-between. Too bad I wasn’t sure exactly where I fell on the continuum.

“I guess I’m not quite as mature as you, Indeara.” Quinn’s fingers brushed across my cheek. “I’m sorry I hurt you.” His hand pressed lower, caressing the three round scars on my chest. His scars. “I didn’t have a choice though. But I do love you.” He paused. “Don’t forget that.”

His words sent a shiver up the back of my neck, straight into my foggy brain. Like a fading memory of another time, and another man, they circled my mind until it took root and blossomed into white-hot rage.

I grabbed Quinn’s hand, twisted it backward, and followed up with a slap to his cheek. “You son-of-a-bitch.” My fist swung again, but he quickly caught it, and pushed me back a step.

“Figured it out, huh?” London shook her head; her blonde hair shimmered in the overhead lights. “I’ll leave you two alone then. After all, you have a lot to discuss.”

She pulled open her bedroom door. “Oh, and Quinn darling, try not to bleed on my curtains. They’re silk.” The door closed behind her, leaving me face to face with the real leader of the Resistance, and the former dweller of Jake McClain’s body, Quinn Fucking Daniels.

Chapter 54

“Are you kidding me?” I stared into Quinn’s eyes, envisioning Jake beneath the layers of Daniel’s skin. Add a couple of shoulder lifts, a pair of blue colored contacts, and they could’ve been twins.

How hadn’t I seen it sooner?

You didn’t want to, my brain whispered.

“Why Quinn? Why shoot me and then stroll back into my life three years later as another man?” My hands slid to my hips. “What kind of sick game are you playing?” My skin crawled as I pictured Jake’s strong, tanned hands caressing my flesh. He’d known all my secret little places, which buttons to push, and when. My perfect lover and I’d never questioned it. Questioned him.

Fuck, I was an idiot.

Quinn stood rigid as I paced around the room murmuring with incoherent rage. I cursed his manhood, his intelligence, and the way he chewed his corn flakes. I paused to gather enough steam for another bout of bitching when he grabbed my shoulders and forced me to sit on the bed.

As much as I wanted to claw his eyes out my body had other ideas. I suddenly felt bone-tired. Weariness beyond anything I’d ever experienced seeped into my cells. A pressure grew along my spinal column, intensifying as it rose. Was this part of the cure or the disease? Either way, it sucked.

“Take it easy, Shirley.” Quinn sat next to me on the bed and rubbed my lower back. “You can kick my ass later.”

“Damn right,” I mumbled but without any real heat.

Brushing his fingers over mine, Quinn said, “I missed you. I missed the way you smell, the way you taste. Hell, I even miss the way you slap.”

I raised my hand. “Don’t—”

“I’m sorry I hurt you.” His eyes bore into mine. “But I made a promise to protect you. To keep you safe from Resden.”

“A promise to who?”

“Calvin.” Quinn winced. “Before I joined the Resistance. He was terrified Arthur would…” He nodded to the door London had vacated, and shook his head. “You don’t know half of what Arthur was capable of. But Calvin knew.”

“Calvin went to Arthur. To save Emily.”

Quinn nodded. “That’s when he met London but it was too late to help her. So he made me swear to…”

“Keep me in the dark,” I finished his sentence, helpless anger radiating through my body. Calvin was dead. I couldn’t rage at him, show him I was capable of taking care of myself. “When did you join the Resistance?”

“It isn’t something you join.” He shook his head. “I was born into it. The same as you. It’s our birthright. From father to son, and mother to daughter.” His face tightened, as if daring me to argue. “One day our children will lead.”

Over my mutated body I thought but didn’t bother to voice my opinion. At the moment, Quinn looked much too serious and strangely desperate to debate semantics like the word OUR.

He pushed from the bed and began to pace much like a lion-gull in a gilded cage. “Answer me this,” he paused, holding my stare. “Three years ago, if I told you in order to save the mutant race, I had to live in the human world as the husband of your grown in a test-tube sister, would you have lovingly kissed me goodbye?”

I didn’t answer. I didn’t have to. We both knew I wouldn’t. Instead, I took the offensive. “So your bright idea was to shoot me?” I leapt from the bed, exhaustion, and pain vanishing under my anger. “Let’s see if I follow your logic.” I held up one finger. “In order to fulfill a promise to my dead father to protect me, you shoot me three times in the chest, and leave me in a motel room with a mutant-rock addicted Fey-sucker?”

Finger number two rose between us.

“But let’s not forget, your completely noble gesture of returning three years later, in another body, to help me search for Nobody,” I flicked up another finger, “who I’m assuming vanished in the first place because of you.”

I jabbed all three fingers into Quinn’s chest. “How am I doing so far?”

“I’m impressed.” Quinn shrugged. “Well, except for your forgetting the part where, out of the blue, you show up at Resden and nearly destroy three years of hard work. Not to mention placing yourself in extreme danger.”

“My apologies.” I rolled my eyes. “Care to explain what prompted you to steal McClain’s body and stalk me?” I shook my finger at him. “And if you say to protect me, I’ll scream until your ears bleed.”