Breaking Through (26 page)

“Looks like the memory shit didn’t work either, because I remember everything.” I sneer. Back up to protect Kray from this pyro. “How you injected the ‘tampered’ hydroplexasma formula into my blood. It wasn’t incorrect: it was the counter-formula. To make the invisible, visible. It’s why I knew you’d be here, waiting for me.

“You need my blood.”

Blackness.

That’s all I see. But what I feel is cold metal pressed against my shoulders and fingertips. My feet stand on the same material, I think. Whatever I’m inside is a tight fit.

I pound my fists against the roof.

Damn it!

I should have been more careful, but all I could think about was getting to Nautia. She was so sure Cara would be here. When I noticed she was gone, I immediately knew where she went.

As soon as one of Cara’s lackeys disarmed me with the wave of his hand and another had me hanging midair over his head, I’d figured out what she had done. Her position at Brighton coupled with her Level 5 military clearance, and she has access to all of the BrightonProject files. Over one hundred fifty years of top secret testing and formulas for human genetics, all at her fingertips.

I think back to when I was recruited as a weapons specialist, focusing on chemical warfare. Melene gave me the lowdown of the project, explaining the ins and outs, down to the details. My job was to monitor changes in DNA after each injection.

After seeing Nautia’s DNA, it wasn’t hard to guess what Cara needs from her.

But while I’m stuck inside this motherfucking torpedo, I’m helpless.

The flames in Cara’s eyes grow into what resembles delight. She snaps her fingers, and Korean guards run in, forming a shoulder-to-shoulder barricade on shore. There’s close to a hundred of them.

“I’ll make this easy for you, Nautia. Surrender, and I’ll let Haskal walk out of here and give Kray the life he wants.”

“No deal,” Haskal says for me, coming to stand by my side.

Kray steps out from behind me. “If the choice is my life or Nautia’s, I choose Nautia’s.”

“I thought that might be the case.” Cara walks over to retrieve her teacup. “I’d like to sweeten the deal.” A computer rises up from a white, circular end table. She turns the screen to us, and my heart drops into my stomach.

Riley.

He writhes inside the tube, hitting and kicking at the walls. Twisting and yelling.

A gasp catches in my throat. Kray’s arm curves around me, holding me up.

“I guess I picked the right man,” Cara says. “Your friends are willing to save your life over theirs, but how about you? Whose life do you value more?” She pauses, her palm hovering over a key on the keyboard. “The coordinates of Riley’s torpedo is
USS Triton
. Is Sickles still on board?”

Her finger inches closer.

I can’t breathe.

Closer.

A shadow at the edge of my vision hangs in midair before it drops out of sight.

Closer—

“Stop,” I say. “Riley and Haskal go free; Kray gets a new life in exchange for me. Is that the deal?”

“Clean and simple,” she confirms.

I point behind me at her line of soldiers. “What about them?”

“We make this deal, and they leave. If not, well, you get to see your own powers used against you.”

I glance out at the sea, the water patiently waiting. I create a picture scene in my head, no words, in case Cara has a mind reader who knows English on her team. Even though Kray gives no acknowledgement, I know he saw. Last, I check my peripheral vision. The shadows are all on the ground now, slowly and silently creeping toward us.

Everything is set.

“All right, Cara,” I say. “Tell your army to prepare to die.”

I throw my arms out to my sides, then duck as Cara blasts fire where I’d stood. Water springs up in tall stalks, blocking the line of Korean guards from us. Kray dives overboard.

Cara presses the button. “Say goodbye to Riley.”

I jump to my feet and watch the wake as the torpedo launches through the water. Then I turn around. Face Cara.

She has a gun pointed at Haskal, but her nefarious gaze is on me. We stand off, watching, breathing, waiting.

My finger twitches.

And Cara shoots.

Haskal’s arms scissor over his torso, and he hunches forward. He holds out his hand, and Cara’s gun flies to him. He doesn’t catch it, though, and it smacks against the floor in front of him. Blood sputters from his mouth as he coughs.

“Nau
…
tia,” he husks out, dropping to his knees. “Finish this bitch.”

He topples facedown onto the deck, a crimson pool widening under him.

“You got it,” I murmur.

Cara holds her hands out, palms up. Flames erupt from the centers. “No one had to die but you. You chose this.”

The faces of the Brighton students from TM1 flash through my mind. “No. I’m
ending
this.”

I rip water up from the sea. Drive it toward Cara at hurricane speed.

She hits the deck and shoots fire at my feet. I jump backwards, then lift my eyes to the sky. Black clouds form overhead. Thunder rocks the yacht. Rain pelts down, extinguishing the flames.

Cara stands, eyes glaring into mine. Like bullets, she shoots off small rounds of fire in quick succession.

Zip. Zip. Zip.

I return the shots with water balls. They suffocate Cara’s blazes into smoke.

“That all you got?” I ask.

Cara’s sweating. She glances down to the gun still lying at Haskal’s fingertips. Then she dives.

I dive too—

Overboard.

Water cocoons me, holding me under the surface and feeding me oxygen. I concentrate on the yacht. On the water below it.

I twist my wrist, and the sea begins to churn. Spinning faster and faster, growing in diameter until the base of Cara’s boat plunges. It rocks. Sways. Spirals downward.

Cara grips the railing, her body pressed against it and her hair whipping around her.

I hold both my hands out. Focus on moving the whirlpool like I’d move a waterspout. The tip touching the seabed, it slowly skirts into deeper water.

Deeper.

Deeper—

Until I release it. Water crashes over the yacht, filling the empty space with its power and taking Cara down with it.

When I break the surface, I pull the water barrier back into the ocean and swim to the dock. A hand juts down, and I look up to see the grey eyes of my best friend staring down at me.

“Where’s Haskal?” he asks.

“He didn’t make it.”

I grab Kray’s hand and let him hoist me up. I do a quick water evaporation on myself. “Where is everyone?”

“Over there.” Kray motions to the shore, and we somberly walk over.

Britta is crouched over Gibson, whose body is contorted in unnatural angles. Ivan lies lifeless beside him.

Britta wipes away her tears when she sees me. Stands up. “Is Cara dead?”

“Yeah. She is,” I say.

Britta swallows. “Good.”

“The sun is coming up,” Kray says. “We’d better get out of here. Britta?”

She punches a code into her Digi. Funny how she’s our leader right now. “All right, Nautia. Take us to the sub.”

We use autopilot
because none of us know how to work the sub. Britta sits in the cockpit by herself, so I assume she wants to be alone.

Kray is hunched down beside me. He clears his throat to break the silence.

“You’ve been in my head since we’d boarded, but I can’t read
your
mind. You’ll have to talk,” I say.

“I don’t know what I was thinking. I mean, I
did
, but I didn’t.” He breathes out a sigh. “I saw a way out, Nautia. A way to listen to my own damn thoughts instead of everyone else’s.”

“Kray, if some people know how to block you out, then we just have to find a way for you to learn how to block
others
out. Together?”

I can put two and two together, so I don’t ask about Sarah; our past is our past—a part of us—but it doesn’t have to define us. We decide that.

Kray looks at me, gray eyes searching my face. When he’s done, he cracks a smile. He spits on his palm and holds it out to me. “Together.”

“This again?”

“We’re making a pact of togetherness, and nothing says ‘I’m with you’ better than a good intermixing of saliva.” He waggles his brows. “Come on, Naut. You’ve swapped more than this with Riley.”

“What? That’s just—”

“No difference, princess,” he interrupts. “It’s mathematical: exchanges of fluids equals togetherness.”

He wears that goofy expression that makes me laugh, and I give in. I swash around a mouthful, bringing up more from my throat. If Kray wants spit, Kray’ll get spit. I hack it into my palm and thrust my hand out to Kray’s. Rub it in real good.

“How’s that for a shake?” I ask.

“Decent enough to earn you a T-shirt for it,” he says, smirking.

“Are you going to let go now?”

“Probably not.” He lowers his voice and wraps an arm around me, bringing me in close. He kisses my temple. “We survived, Nautia. I want to hold you a little longer.”

I tip my head against his shoulder and squeeze his hand. “Yeah, me too.”

I raise the tide when we get back to
USS Triton
. Easier for us to re-board the ship. Sickles is on deck, waiting for us.

“Did you get the present I sent you?” I ask.

He breathes out a chuckle. “Wasn’t sure what it was at first. I mean, I’ve never seen a current carry a torpedo at the water’s surface.”

“And you figured out how to open it?”

“Took me a while. He inhaled a lot of carbon dioxide, but yeah, I got it.” He cocks his head toward the stairs. “He’s in sick bay.”

“Thank you.”

I can’t get to him fast enough. See his face. Look into his eyes. Touch his skin. I take off running.

The letter I wrote before we left yesterday got ruined during my dive, so I asked Kray for his copy. He thinks I’m lame for wanting to read it to Riley, but I poured my heart into the note, and I might not remember it all if I wing it.

I sprint down the sleeping quarters’ corridor. Past the gym, the simulation and weapons rooms. I don’t stop until I reach sick bay.

I fling the door open.

He’s here. He’s alive.

I stand in the doorway, taking him in. His eyes are closed and there are hoses sticking into his nostrils. A white bandage circles the top of his head, down to the tops of his eyebrows. Monitors bleep out each beat of his heart.

I slip inside, not wanting to wake him. Walk over to his bed and take his hand in both of mine. I press my lips against the back of it and keep them there.

His eyes flutter open, beautiful gold landing on me. He holds me with his stare, then the corner of his mouth curves up.

“Nautia,” he moans.

“I’m here.”

“I wanted to save you,” he murmurs, his voice raspy.

I lean over him. Touch my forehead to his. “You’ve already saved me. It was my turn to save
you
.”

He cups my face, eyes searching mine. “Nautia, I—”

“I have something I want to tell you,” I say, digging the letter out of my pocket. I unfold it and read, “Dear Riley, I love you. I should have told—”

He grabs the paper, rips it in half, and tosses it to the floor. “You had to write that down?”

“In case I didn’t make it…”

Weakly, he combs through my hair. “But you did make it. Now, what is it you want to tell me?”

He doesn’t stop touching me, keeping his fingers in my hair, on my face, brushing over my lips. I pause to drink it in.

“A friend of mine once said that you know when you love someone, because you think about them more than you don’t. Dream about them when they’re right next to you. Crave all of their attention. When I picture the future, I see you. And there is no watercolor in the world I want more than that.” I kiss his fingers as they trail over my lips. “I love you, Captain Riley Barton.”

“Nautia,” he murmurs, pulling the oxygen tubes off and drawing me close. “My water nymph, you messed me up, made me disregard the rules. I’m going to hold you, kiss you, and love you until the oceans run dry.”

Then he kisses me. God, does he kiss me—slow, yet hungry. Deep and passionate.

“I love you, Nautia,” he says against my lips.

They say actions speak louder than words, but Riley’s words make streams of energy flow through my veins. Before my wall came down, I would have fought the rising emotion, tried to contain it inside me. Not anymore. Because a love like this should be allowed to break through.

And so I let it.