Impostor (18 page)

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Authors: Susanne Winnacker

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Mysteries & Detective Stories, #Fantasy & Magic, #Social Issues, #Adolescence, #Paranormal, #Speculative Fiction Suspense

BOOK: Impostor
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CHAPTER 21

T
he road led to an old, abandoned house that could have been the set of a horror movie. Hitchcock would have approved. Frazzled, yellowed curtains fluttered in broken windows. Several of the facade’s grayed panels were missing, and the front door was nailed up with boards.

But none of it stopped Devon. As if he’d done it hundreds of times before, he climbed through the window beside the front door.

What was he here to do?

A bang sounded in the house.

I took out the Taser and hurried toward the house. Pressing my back against the facade, I held my breath. The wind whistled in my ears. I inched closer to the window, clutching the Taser against my chest and wishing I’d taken another weapon with me.

I peeked into the house. Light filtered from somewhere deep inside into what looked like a living room. Careful not to touch the jagged remnants of the window, I climbed inside, flinching when mist encircled my feet. It covered the entire floor.

The air in the house was moldy and as cold as it was outside. A moth-eaten couch and a small table with a vase of dust-covered artificial flowers were the only adornments. I took a few steps further into the room, mist swirling around my ankles, and moved toward a half-closed door that led into the hall.

A floorboard creaked under my weight and I froze.

Except for the sound of my breathing, the house was completely silent. Where was Devon?

The mist cleared slightly as if it was trailing somewhere after its master. Keeping an eye on the shaky floorboards beneath me, I cautiously crossed the room.

My heart fluttered in my chest as I risked a glimpse of what lay beyond the door. The only light came from somewhere in the back of the building. My eyes landed on a black shadow on the ground. It looked like a pool of paint had run in a puddle around it. Sickness lurched in my stomach. I inched closer to get a better look, and icy spikes pierced through my spine.

On the ground, in a puddle of his own blood, lay Devon. He was sprawled on his back, his blond hair matted to his head. A few tendrils of fog whirled around him like spidery tentacles. Checking left and right, I hurried toward him and knelt down, shivering as blood seeped through the fabric of my jeans. It still felt warm against my skin.

A dent had flattened the side of Devon’s head. It didn’t look like it was supposed to. I reached out but stopped when I saw something white poking out of his hair. Brain or skull, I couldn’t tell. I had to brace myself to keep from vomiting.

My fingers shook as I pressed them against his throat. Nothing.

I slid my hand along his skin. Up and down. To the left, then to the right. Trying with every finger of my hand to find some sign of life.

Still nothing.

I hovered over his face, then pressed my lips against his blood-smudged mouth, pushing air in. With a hiss, something shot out of his chest and hit me against the arm. I scrambled back. Splatters of blood covered my arm.

I stared down at his chest. Seven holes had oozed blood and his sweatshirt was soaked with it. Someone had stabbed him repeatedly. Shaking, I leaned over and pushed another breath into his mouth. Again something hit me. More blood.

I leaned back on my haunches, a dark realization settling in my mind. His lungs were perforated.

Gasps rattled my body and turned to pathetic hiccups as tears trailed over my cheeks. Devon was dead.

I pressed my face into the crook of his neck, trying to catch his scent one last time. A hint of cinnamon reached my nose, but it was soon clouded by the coppery saltiness of blood.

Gripping the Taser, I staggered to my feet. My nails dug into my skin and the pain gave me the necessary focus to stop my chin from quivering.

A floorboard creaked behind me and I whirled around in time to see something hurtling toward my head but not in time to ward it off. With a crack the thing collided with my skull and blackness consumed me.

• • •

I wasn’t sure how long I’d been unconscious, but when I came to, my muscles ached. I was on the ground, my feet and hands tied together. With a groan, I forced my eyes open. Through the open window, I could make out the treetops and the black sky littered with stars. It was still night, so not too much time had passed.

I shifted. My cell was gone and so was the Taser. I didn’t even know what room I was in. It was much too dark for that.

Across the room, a shadow moved and I froze. Tendrils of haze crawled toward me, emanating from a cloud of denser fog. I twisted until I was sitting upright. It wouldn’t protect me but at least I felt safer, more alert. A shadow stirred, slowly becoming distinguishable. The mist dispersed and a person appeared, still hidden by darkness. He moved in front of the door, where a tiny bit of light streamed in, and finally I recognized the illuminated face.

“Ryan?”

“Ryan?” he mocked in a high-pitched voice that immediately raised goose bumps along my arms. Shadows warped his face, giving him an almost diabolical countenance. He took a step toward me and smirked.

“Didn’t think I could do it, did you?” Triumph filled his voice.

“I thought it might be you,” I whispered.

He crouched in front of me, bringing his face close, far too close. So close that I saw the cold calculation in his eyes. I wished there had been madness there; that would have been easier to deal with.

He sneered. “You think I killed you because you broke up with me and fucked that asshole Yates, don’t you?”

I swallowed, stunned into silence. That wasn’t the reason?

“That wasn’t why I killed you, but it’ll make killing Yates much more enjoyable.” He smiled widely. “You really don’t remember anything, do you? It’s been so much fun staring into your unsuspecting little face these last few weeks.”

His mouth twisted with glee. He was clutching a long knife in his hand, the blade covered with blood. Red on gleaming silver.

I tried to focus my attention inside, summoning a shift. If I could transform into a man—someone strong like Alec—then I could try to kick Ryan’s ass.

He turned the knife absentmindedly, still watching me.

“I want to understand,” I said, half pleading. “Why are you doing this?”

I tried to summon my power once more, but the rippling in my skin was faint and stopped almost instantly.

He moved closer, his hot breath spilling onto my cheek. It smelled horrid, like onions and alcohol.

I started working at the rope around my wrists, trying to wiggle my thumb underneath it. It was too tight.

“You,” he said like a curse. “I showed you my
gift
, trusted you enough to tell you what I was capable of, and you were scared. You treated me like an abomination.”

He’d shown Madison his Variation?

I realized that my own Variation might be my only chance of winning his trust, but telling him about it could rob me of my only advantage.

“You know, Madison, at one point, I thought I loved you. I’d have done anything for you. Anything. I even killed that useless bitch Kristen for you because she wouldn’t stop talking shit. I hated her for how she’d been treating you. But
you
, you didn’t understand. You were scared and disgusted by me! You would’ve gone to the police. You would’ve betrayed me—again and again. So you left me with no choice, Maddy.”

I swallowed when he ran his finger over the blade. He pressed the knife lightly against my throat. I stared at him, so scared it was hard to hear him over the pounding of my heart in my ears.

“I’m sorry.” The words slipped out without my volition, like the automatic “bless you” when someone sneezes. I wasn’t even sure what I was apologizing for.

“You are so clueless.” His lips curled.

Something snapped in me. “Maybe that’s because you tried to kill me.”

He raised the knife to strike, and I focused on my power with all my might. But still, nothing happened. It was as if I’d never had a Variation in the first place.

A crack sounded from somewhere in the house and Ryan froze. The knife was almost at my throat.

He jumped up and crept out of the room, leaving the door ajar. With the light from the corridor streaming inside, I could barely make out my surroundings. There was a bathtub with old-fashioned claw feet and a hole in the ground where the toilet must have been. Over the tub, on a small shelf, rested Devon’s hunting knife and my Taser.

I closed my eyes and tried shifting. A rippling started in my toes and slowly traveled up my calves.

A cry crashed through my concentration and the rippling died down. My eyes shot open. Ryan appeared in the doorframe, his hand twisted in blond hair. A streak of fog trailed after him like a lost puppy. He dragged the woman inside and dropped her as far away from me as possible, beside the bathtub. Her face was pressed against the tiles but something about her seemed familiar. Ryan tied her wrists and ankles together with tape. He turned her onto her side, and I saw her face for the first time.

I gasped.

Ryan’s eyes darted toward me. “What? Do you know her?”

I shook my head, trying to wipe the shock from my face.

His lips thinned in suspicion. “Are you sure? Why did she follow you here then, Maddy?”

Kate stared at me, one of her eyes already swelling shut and a nasty cut on her temple. Had Major asked her to join the mission without telling me?

“I’ve never seen her before,” I said.

“You’re lying,” he accused, advancing with the knife.

“I’m not! I don’t know her. Maybe she followed Devon here.”

Ryan paused, his green eyes contemplating. “Devon.” His mouth twisted. “That would be just like the jerk.”

“Why did you kill him?”

Kate was trying to bore a hole into my head with her eyes but I didn’t look her way. I couldn’t risk making Ryan even more suspicious.

“Because he’s been prying around too much, sticking his nose where it didn’t belong. I had to stop him. I led him here. He thought he was so damn clever but he would’ve never found me if I hadn’t let him follow me. It’s a pity that he’s dead though. I was planning to blame the murders on him. That’s why I killed that bitch Francesca.”

Ryan grinned. He advanced on me, slowly, enjoying every moment of his sick little game. I forced my body to relax, even when he knelt down beside me and twirled a strand of my hair around his finger.

“Why did you lead Devon here?” I asked, the words rattling in my throat.

He paused with his finger on my collarbone. “Because this is my spot. Nobody ever comes here. I’ve been using this place for months to work on my gift.”

“The fog,” I said before I could stop myself.

He removed his hand, his eyes searching my face. “So you do remember?”

I hesitated. “Some things. You can control fog.”

“Not just control. I can create it. It’s part of me,” he said, pride lighting up his expression.

“But what does that have to do with killing people?”

I could feel Kate’s intent gaze on me. Of course, she’d realized by now that we were dealing with a Variant. Maybe she’d known all along.

Ryan leaned back on his haunches, the knife balancing on his thighs. “Why should I tell you?”

“I just want to understand,” my voice cracked and it wasn’t even pretend. There was little doubt in my mind about the outcome of this night. Kate and I would die.

Fog gathered on the ground, twirling around Ryan, encircling his legs like a cat.

“I’ve been hiding my talent all my life. I was ashamed. My father always told me I had to keep it a secret, that it was a bad thing, that I was a freak. But there are other people like me. People with
gifts
.” He spoke in a reverent tone, his eyes bright with pride.

No kidding
, I thought sarcastically.
Two of them are in this room with you
.

If he wasn’t a psychopath, I’d have felt sympathy for him. I knew exactly how he felt.

“And I will join them,” he continued. “They found me. They told me I needed to break all ties to my former life before I could join them. I had to make sure I got rid of anyone who might be suspicious about me, who might know about my gift.”

That didn’t sound like the FEA. They would never encourage killing. Maybe it was the group of rogue Variants Holly had mentioned in her e-mail. But how to ask him without giving myself away?

“So the victims all knew about your gift?”

He shrugged. “Nobody else
knew
, but Dr. Hansen was concerned about my blood test results, and that stupid janitor had seen me creating fog. I can’t take any risks. Abel’s Army is too important for that.”

“Abel’s Army?” I said. Kate looked like she knew what he was talking about. When she sensed my eyes on her, she lowered her face.

Ryan chuckled. “Enough with the questions, Maddy.” He pushed a finger against my lips. I wanted to bite it but he moved his hand downward. His fingers trailed over the scar on my throat, across my breastbone, stopping to rest on the pendant for a moment before he brushed across the A over my rib cage. “I love that I left my mark on you, Maddy. I’m kind of sad that it’s almost healed.” I shuddered at his closeness.

“I doubt Abel’s Army will give a shit about your gift, loser. They have much freakier talents than you could ever imagine. Why would they want a little boy who can play fog machine?”

Kate—she’d come to my aid. I’d never thought I’d see that happen.

“What the hell do you know about Abel’s Army?” he demanded, his voice low.

Kate pressed her lips together.

He smiled and walked toward the bathtub. Kate tensed when he stood over her, but he just reached for the faucet and turned the water on, letting it fill the tub. His silence frightened me more than if he’d shouted and raged. My stomach tightened. He moved to the sink and took the Taser from the shelf.

“You will talk,” he said. “Because I will make you.”

With the Taser in his hand, he knelt in front of Kate. “So you really don’t want to tell me how you know about Abel’s Army?” Before she could answer or even shake her head, he touched the Taser to her side. Blue sparks flew and Kate screamed.

“Stop it!” I cried.

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