Breaking Through (19 page)

As crazy as Riley’s
theory sounds, something tells me he’s right. Ever since the giant wave I created extended itself to me, I’ve felt different. Yesterday in the shower, I only had to think about the temperature and it warmed up. I’ve also noticed smaller things. Like using less energy to create my little juggling balls or to evaporate steam from the bathroom. Even Kray turned speechless when I dried my wet hair in under three seconds.

Not to mention all of the times it should have hailed and it didn’t. Or when my opening up and allowing my emotions to pour out actually
stopped
the rain instead of built it. And all those times, Riley was there too.

My brain is so engrossed in my thoughts, I don’t realize I’ve been holding Riley’s hand the whole way to the top deck. Downstairs, I felt each touch when he brushed against me, each breath on my lips. Each goose bump on my skin created by his arms around me, my head on his chest.

If Riley’s theory is correct, maybe all of the reasons we can’t be together will crash to the ground. If I can control the water, then does that mean I can also control my emotions regarding it?

Only one way to find out.

I take a deep breath. Let it out slowly. “Okay, I’m ready.”

“Why don’t you bring up a waterspout,” he suggests lightly.

No. I’m not going to start out small and work my way to more difficult things. My gut tells me I can do anything I want. The
ocean
tells me.

“No,” I say. “I’m going to invert one.”

I outstretch my arms. Flip my hands, palms down, over the calm sea. I don’t close my eyes; I don’t need to. The energy spreads easily through my veins and my bones. Every cell inside me responds, and I melt into the sensation of flowing water dancing through me. It’s amazing, and I’m in complete control.

Effortless.

At the side of the ship, water begins to swirl, a circle growing in diameter and funneling downward. Riley grips the railing, his eyes widening. The ship is on the very edge of what I’m doing. He doesn’t say anything, though, only watches as the cyclone expands. He trusts me!

Like I intended, the ship doesn’t move. The water beneath us remains still.

I smile, letting the power transform me. Not like before when I had to prove myself.

Because I already have. The wave? It was a test. Now, there’s a mutual understanding between this living force and me.

I giggle when I feel the tip of the whirlpool hit the ocean floor. Using the ground below like a trampoline, I springboard the vortex upward. I glance at Riley, whose knuckles match the color of his face. Still he says nothing, and I think I might love him for that. A few moments later, the inverted tornado jets into the sky. Water from the blast falls down around us, spraying us like a whale’s exhale. Laughing, I throw my arms around Riley’s neck. Place my fingers against his cheek and turn his head to me. Then I kiss him.

I don’t care that it takes him a second before he returns the kiss. Or that when he does return it, he’s cautious, each slip of his tongue measured. Because I just freaking controlled water! Not just controlled it—
commanded
it.

And it was easy. So perfectly, magically easy. I’m not light-headed. I won’t pass out, and best of all, I didn’t screw up!

God, it’s amazing.

I release Riley for a moment, but I don’t look at him. I just lift my arms and face to the sky to revel in the majesty of my element. An instant later, the clouds open up above us to reveal the pastels of a northern Atlantic dusk. Rose, dark violet, and musty blues transcend overhead, and I’ve never been more at ease with myself in my life.

For the first time since I can remember, I can breathe. Feel the moisture as if it’s a part of me. I hear the ocean below, not in soft ripples, but in whispers of permission.

For the first time since I can remember, I’m free.

Fingers thread through mine. My gaze slowly meets Riley’s, and I can’t stop smiling.

“I did it. I really, truly did it,” I say.

“Yeah. You did.”

My smile grows even wider at his praise. “This means the wall in my head is gone, right? My power isn’t tied to my emotions anymore?”

The slight grin on Riley’s face slowly fades. “Nautia, people who have their powers tied to their emotional cores will always have their powers set there. That’s where your power stems from. And it’s not a bad thing.”

He must see the thoughts swirling around in my mind, because he pulls me into his chest and kisses the top of my head.

“That’s why you hesitated when you kissed me, isn’t it?” I say, putting it together. “I’m still dangerous.”

Gently, Riley pushes my shoulders back to look at me. Tender eyes scan over my face, molten gold lighter in the twilight. “Trust me,” he murmurs.

I peer back, words caught in my throat. The way he said it, the way he’s looking at me now, it’s not just trust he’s asking for. It’s complete surrender. He wants me to let go, forget all of the damage I’ve done in the past and concentrate on this moment. Focus on controlling my power through the emotion without worrying about what comes next.

But is that even possible?

“What if—”

“There’s no ‘what if,’ Nautia.” He cups my face and presses his forehead against mine. “True, I can’t promise that everyone will come out of this safely, but everyone on board this ship understood the risks involved. You signed a contract, remember?”

I nod.

“No mission is without risk. Cara might expect you to kill us off for her, because she doesn’t think you can do this. I know different. I’m counting on you to help end North Korea’s program. You worry about control, and let me worry about lives. Can you do that?”

I exhale my fear, my insecurity, and steady myself. “You warn the crew to take precautions, and we’ll begin.”

The half-grin that appears on Riley’s face is a mixture of sexiness and pride. “We start tomorrow.”

“What time?”

His grin spreads as his mouth lowers over mine. He sucks on my lower lip for a second before he answers. “They’re your emotions, Nautia. They’re not tied to a specific time, so be ready at all times.”

He kisses me again, slow and passionate, raising my desire. Warmth reaches down my body to my core, grabbing ahold of me and melting me.

Oh. My. God.

I want.

I want.

I want him so bad.

The ship sways to the left. The right. And—

Riley releases me.
USS Triton
stills. I reach for him, but he backs up. A mischievous glint in his eye leaves my insides in a puddle of unfulfilled longing.

“Where are you going?” I ask, craving more.

His gaze sweeps down my body and back up, making me squeeze my thighs together at what he’s doing to me. On freaking purpose.

“To make preparations,” he says.

“For what?”

Riley chuckles. “The start of your emotional training.”

“You’re going to kill me, aren’t you?” I say, because I’m seriously dying right now.

“Maybe.” He takes my wrists and holds them at my sides. Presses up against me and teases my lips with the tip of his tongue. “But I promise I’ll bring you back to life.”

“Cara?” I choke out. I struggle against the guards securing my arms, but they only hold on tighter.

My first thought is that Yun Ji-jin captured her and is holding her hostage in his Wonsan Palace. This must be his office, because above the massive ivory desk hangs an even larger oil painting of him. Chin up and arrogant, he peers down on us like we’re nothing but ants.

My second thought is that if Cara is held against her will, why is she sitting comfortably in his chair? With a cup of tea?

She leans forward, reminding me of all of the times I sat in her office at Brighton. Flames dance in her eyes, but die out when she motions for the guards to release me. They obey.

“Nautia, please. Have a seat,” she offers.

One of the guards shoves me forward. I half-trip over the Oriental rug that’s identical to the one in Brighton’s foyer. I do as she asks, glancing over my shoulders to see that the guards have stationed themselves on either side of the elaborate double doors. I swing around, feeling less comfortable with Cara in front of me.

“Tea?” she asks, holding up a small pitcher from the silver tray.

I shake my head.

Cara smiles, pours the drink, and sets it in front of me anyway. “Sugar?”

I don’t answer as she drops a sugar cube into the cup. She stirs it a few times and places the spoon back onto the silver tray. Then she sits and takes a sip from her own teacup.

“Ah. Nothing like local tea,” she says, breathing in the steam. “Absolutely delicious.”

I watch as she takes another sip like she has all the time in the world. I want to yell at her. Tell her the undercover mission has been compromised. Scream that the rest of the Brighton students on board the ship in the Sea of Japan are in danger.

But something glues to me to the seat and seals my lips closed.

Cara sighs as she sets her teacup onto the desk. “Sources tell me you flooded the weapons facility, Nautia. Is this true?”

Cara says it sweetly, but there are flames igniting in her eyes again. She stares at me, waiting for an answer I won’t give. Perfectly sculpted black brows arch high on her forehead as she considers me. Blood red nails roll against the desk, pattering out a rhythmic five tap beat. It’s the only sound in the room.

What seems like hours tick by before Cara pounds her fists against the marble, making me jump. Sparks fly from beneath the skin.

“You flooded the goddamn weapons facility!” she shouts. “Do you know how long it has taken to set up that warehouse so that it could withstand the testing needed to ensure a working product? How long it took for that moron of an admiral to figure out what we were doing here and set up a military operation? How patient I was while he assembled a team that met my standards?”

She holds up a palm, and a flame of fire materializes above it. Twisting her wrist, the flame grows. Then she slams her arm forward. Fire flies across the room and slams into the chest of one of the guards. Screams fill the air as he rolls around the room to escape the pain that won’t be eased. The other guard straightens his back and avoids looking at the burnt flesh now writhing on the ground.

“And you almost ruined everything,” Cara continues, her voice returning to an eerie sweetness. She sits back down. Takes another sip of tea.

“You,” she says, pointing at the other guard. “Clean that up.”

The guard opens the double doors, then walks over to the smoldering heap. Agonizing moans curl out from under the remaining flames. Straight-faced, he lowers himself to the floor and begins to roll his fellow soldier out of the room. Screams erupt, and I close my eyes in an attempt to drown out the noise. It’s pointless; the doors shut, but I still hear his muffled wails through the wood.

Cara opens the office windows to air out the stench of sulfur and burnt copper. Then she returns to me with a smile. “Now, Nautia, to take care of you. You see, from the beginning of this project, I knew you’d be the one who’d give me the most difficulty. You’re powerful. Smart. And unfortunately, instead of killing you off first, I had to use you. You were the only one who’d be believable for a proposed inside job.” Cara laughs. “Ironic, isn’t it?”

“What did you do with everyone else?” I finally say.

“Your classmates? Oh, sweet Nautia, they’ve been dead since you left the ship. Sorry.” She makes a pouty face.

Nefarious bitch.

“Of course no one could be kept alive, silly girl. The whole mission just had to look good, and I couldn’t resist taking out an entire graduating class of Brighton students. The fewer of you there are, the fairer society is. But don’t worry. Their deaths will go down as accidents. Casualties of war.” Cara smiles. “It’s all so melodramatic, don’t you think? The things we do to keep face.”

“So what do you want with me?”

“Nothing. You’ve served your purpose, so now you’ll die.”