Flawed (15 page)

Mathew shrugged and tore a roll in half. “No disrespect, sir, but why don’t you tell me what all this is about?” he said, before popping the bread into his mouth.

The commander took another sip, then brought the glass down. “I already told you. I want to know about Ellyssa. You did know her?” he asked, the question more of a statement.

And now comes the torture
. At least his stomach was full.

Tired of playing whatever game the Commandant was playing, Mathew leaned back, his full belly distending over the top of the thin pyjama bottoms. He felt a little nauseous and hoped the food would stay down, especially when the licks of the crop cut across his skin. He stared at the commander with locked lips.

The commander inhaled deeply. “You misunderstand me. I’m not asking for her or anyone’s location. I’m not asking you to betray your kind.” He said
your kind
like the Renegades were not of his species. “I just want to know about her. I want to know why she’s so important.”

“Why don’t you ask the little girl?”

Surprisingly, the Commandant didn’t fly into a fit of rage, like the last time he’d tried to pry information from Mathew.

“It’s not that simple. Maybe you need to think about it.” He went to the door and pulled it open. “Corporal.”

“Sir,” the corporal’s voice floated in from the adjoining room.

“Summon the guards. The prisoner needs to be returned to the barracks.” He closed the door and looked back at Mathew. “You can wait in the Corporal’s office.”

“Yes, sir,” Mathew said, standing.

As Mathew reached for the doorknob, the Commandant plopped into his leather desk chair, wine glass still in hand.

“The enemy of my enemy is my friend.”

The voice was so low, Mathew was unsure he’d heard the words right. Mostly, because it made no sense. “Sir?” he asked, peering from around the door.

“Get out,” the Commandant said.

The last thing Mathew saw was the commander of the camp swiveling his chair around to stare out into the compound. Large snowflakes danced outside the window.

As soon as Trista had bounded into the kitchen to greet Dyllon, the captain pulled Trista in close and kissed her fully on the lips. After they’d parted, with a grin spread across his face, he’d informed them he had news.

Ellyssa thought Trista was going to explode. For the last hour, while they waited for the males to return, Trista had tried to sway Dyllon with fluttery eyelids and pleas, but he’d refused to talk. He’d just smile and squeeze her hand. Finally, with a pouty lower lip, Trista gave up, but not before she told Ellyssa she’d better not peek. If she wasn’t in the loop, then no one was in the loop.

Since Trista had mentioned the peeking, Dyllon had watched Ellyssa from the corner of his eye. The expression on his face was hard to read—was it suspicion? Ellyssa wondered if Dyllon was aware of her capabilities. His past with the detective would have put him in a position of some knowledge.

Her curiosity piqued, Ellyssa had found it hard to contain herself and not glean the information from the captain. No one would be the wiser, and her nerves would be settled. Instead, though, she honored Trista’s request, and passed the time watching Sarah’s expertise with wielding a spatula, like an artist with a brush, while icing a chocolate cake. The older woman was the epitome of a mothering soul, at least what Ellyssa imagined one to be. She was going to miss Sarah when they left.

And they would have to leave, even without knowing their destination. Dyllon and Trista had already had plans before this reunion.

The thought saddened Ellyssa. She wished they could stay in the little home with the yellow sunflowers and the knickknacks, but she knew the time was drawing near when they would have to depart. As Tim said yesterday, he had to protect Sarah and himself. His job had been transporting, not harboring. The longer the reunited group stayed, the more dangerous it became for Tim and Sarah.

“Ellyssa?”

Dyllon’s voice pulled Ellyssa’s attention away from the spatula gliding across the top of the cake. She faced him.

“May I have a word with you?”

Trista’s eyes narrowed. “Why? Are you going to tell her?”

He chuckled. “And what, be subjected to your wrath?”

Lifting her chin, Trista folded her arms across her chest. “Don’t you forget it, either.”

He looked aghast for a moment. “Never.” Then a grin sliced across Dyllon’s face, reaching his blue-green eyes, as he brought her hand to his mouth and brushed his lips against her palm. “It’ll just be for a moment.” He stood. “Please?” His question was directed at Ellyssa.

Both of the women looked at her—Trista with a look of reverie as her finger circled the part of her palm where Dyllon had kissed, and Sarah with a chocolate-frosting-covered spatula.

Shrugging, Ellyssa said, “Okay.”

“In the living room?”

Her curiosity crested; she stood. “Sure.”

With a quick glance at Sarah and Trista, Ellyssa followed the captain into the adjoining room. He closed the doors behind them, blocking the questioning looks of Ellyssa’s two friends.

“Please sit down,” Dyllon said, extending his arm toward the couch.

Ellyssa passed him and took a seat. She turned and looked at him.

Seemingly very nervous and definitely uncomfortable, Dyllon didn’t move away from the door, as if he thought being close to an exit would prove useful. A hint of a smile curled Ellyssa’s lips.

For a few moments, Dyllon didn’t say anything. He rocked back on his heels, his hands shifting from folding across his chest to disappearing behind his back. His eyes would linger on her, then he’d quickly avert them as if he suddenly realized he was staring.

The whole thing was becoming a little irritating. If Dyllon didn’t say something soon, Ellyssa was going to end the ordeal by grabbing what she wanted from his mind. Finally, Dyllon’s hands fell to his sides, and he went to the couch and took a seat next to her, his knees pointing toward hers.

The Captain took a deep breath, then blurted, “What did you do to me last night?”

Completely taken by surprise, Ellyssa blinked. “What?”

“You did something to me,” he accused.

“No…” She shook her head, her forehead creasing. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s obvious you’re the one the detective was searching for. You look just like that Micah. The resemblances are uncanny.” He glanced down at his hands. “He was uncanny. The way he could…see things. He was the one who found the Renegades’ stash.” His eyes lifted and met hers. “I know you have abilities, too. All of you do. Angela told me.”

“I didn’t do anything to you.”

He frowned. “But you do have abilities?”

“Yes.”

Rubbing his hand over his chin, he stood. “What can you do?”

Ellyssa thought about not telling him. Technically, he was still employed by the Warrensburg police department. Maybe it was best they kept the information secret until…well, she didn’t know. Until he proved himself? But, then again, she’d read his mind, seen his devotion to Trista, his horror at the slaughter in the cavern, his desire to change. Plus, after the captain told whatever news he had, she could keep a monitor on him without breaking her promise to Trista.

Ellyssa’s decision made, she replied, “I can read minds.”

For about a second, Dyllon’s expression was one of perfect surprise—jaw dropped, eyes wide, astonishment paling his skin. Then he snapped his mouth closed and nodded. “That makes sense,” he said, rubbing his chin in thought. “Perfect sense. That’s why Trista said no peeking.”

“Yes.”

Dyllon sat back down on the couch and faced her. “That’s it?”

Suspicious, Ellyssa asked, “Why?”

“Last night, when you touched my cheek and said,
calm
, it was like I couldn’t help but to become calm. My mind was racing one moment, the next…things didn’t seem so bad.”

Ellyssa laughed, hard. The sound resonated deep in her chest and burst forth. Dyllon watched her, his face pinking, then he smiled and joined her. She could only imagine Trista’s and Sarah’s wonder at what was so funny and why they weren’t included, which made her laugh harder.

After a minute, Ellyssa took in a deep breath and brought the giggling fit under control. “No,” she shook her head, “I can’t do anything as extraordinary as influence emotions. Just an average, boring mind reader.” A snigger escaped from between her lips. She pressed them together.

“I guess the thought is ridiculous. It’s just…I don’t know.” He looped his fingers together and let them hang between his legs. “It seemed like I had no control.”

“You were under a lot of stress. I mean, you were dangling from Rein’s hand.” Ellyssa flinched at the same time he did at the reminder. “Sorry about that.”

Dyllon touched his neck, an angry bruise peeked out from behind his collar. “No need. If I was in his shoes, I probably wouldn’t have stopped. It must have been awful for him.”

“It was.” Ellyssa stood. “Are we done?”

“Yes,” he said, reaching out and touching her hand. “Thank you for, you know, making him listen to you.”

Something to what he’d said tickled the back of her mind. Something that wanted to click into place with other stuff, like puzzle pieces, but then Trista shouted, and the pieces fragmented again.

“They’re back!”

Ellyssa stood on the threshold to the kitchen as the back door swung open. Tim came in, followed by Rein and Woody, who were both carrying boxes. Rein lugged his box over to a counter and plopped it down, biceps flexing as he made room for Woody’s burden.

Tim marched right over to Sarah and planted a kiss on her awaiting cheek “Mmm, chocolate cake,” he said, dipping his finger into the bowl.

Sarah made to smack his hand, but he dodged, sticking his index finger into his mouth as he turned toward Ellyssa. His brow wrinkled, which looked comical with no eyebrows.

“You look…different.”

“Tim,” shrieked Sarah, “your manners.” She hit him with the dishtowel she’d used to dry her hands.

“No. No. You look great.”

Blush rose in her cheeks as Rein turned around. A smile twitched the corners of his mouth, and a spark lit his jade eyes. With wide strides, he went to Ellyssa and wrapped his arms around her. She buried her face into the side of his neck and inhaled. Like always, he smelled wonderful.

“Wow,” he said into her hair. “You really do look different. Beautiful.”

“Thank you,” she said, her voice muffled.

Suddenly aware of the eyes on her, she peered over Rein’s shoulder. Dyllon had taken his previous seat next to Trista, who held a “told you so” smugness on her face. Tim’s arm was wrapped around Sarah’s waist, their expression full of happy approval. Woody stood silently, watching them. He pulled his fingers through his ash-blond locks, like he was agitated, and his mouth moved like he wanted to say something. Instead, he gave an approving nod, then started to open one of the boxes.

“I told you. Didn’t I tell you, Ellyssa?” Trista beamed.

Rein pulled back, shifting his hands onto Ellyssa’s upper arms. “BAM,” he said, with a smile.

Pleased, more heat rushed into Ellyssa’s face. She felt an urge to look away in embarrassment but couldn’t; Rein had her locked with his gaze. Visions of their night together warmed her body as well, and then she definitely blushed with bright-red embarrassment. The smile on Rein’s face turned to one of knowing, and he blushed as well. Maybe to hide his embarrassment, Rein pulled Ellyssa in and hid his face in her hair.

Dyllon cleared his throat. “I have to be going soon.”

Every muscle in Rein’s back seized tight at the sound of the captain’s voice. He moved to Ellyssa’s side, his arm sliding around to her waist where he pulled her in protectively. Ellyssa couldn’t help but think how cute the act was.

“Don’t let us stop you,” Rein said, his tone clipped and unwelcoming.

Woody guffawed while Trista shot Rein a look that could’ve curdled milk.

“Don’t start, Rein,” she warned.

Rein held his hands up. “I’m not starting anything.” He brushed a kiss across Ellyssa’s cheek, then joined Woody. His back rigid, he started to pull out white boxes with red crosses on the lid.

“Rein, he has news for us,” Ellyssa urged, looking at Dyllon.

“Oh?” he said, his voice couldn’t have lacked any more interest. Without looking up, Rein opened the other box with MRE, 10 UNITS marked on the side.

Trista popped out of her chair, snatching her hand away from Dyllon when he tried to contain her. “Yes, you big ass.”

Everyone’s expression shared the same look of shock, except Woody, who snickered. Rein’s head snapped up, as if he was about to say something, but Trista wasn’t going to have any of it. She propped her fists on her hips and glared threateningly.

“We’ve been waiting all day for you guys to get back. He should have left twenty minutes ago, but he stayed, risking himself, because he wanted to tell us something.”

“Risking all of us,” Rein retorted.

“Scratch big ass. You’re a
huge
ass.”

“I agreed to work with him, but I never agreed to be happy about it.”

“Trista, it’s okay,” Dyllon said, placing his hand on her shoulder.