The Forbidden Trilogy (27 page)

Kylie the Beach Bunny, as she liked to be called, hadn't
changed a bit. Bits of a silver string bikini hugged her curvaceous form as if
it were painted on. Her bleach blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders in artificial
curls. Pretty much everything about Kylie was artificial, actually. Drake could
not for the life of him remember why he'd ever hooked up with such a shallow
creature.

Drake hadn't turned around all the way when Kylie slipped
her slender arm around his waist and pressed her body against his back.

His skin crawled at her touch.

She leaned in close to his ear, her voice a contrived
throaty whisper. "I've been missing you, Drakey boy. Nobody has ever had
the stamina you do."

"Drake?"

Oh, shit.

Drake turned to face the last person he wanted to see in
that moment.

Sam.

I couldn't breathe. My heart sank to my feet and waited for
death to extinguish its last few remaining beats.

Drake stood there with a gorgeous Victoria Secret model-type
wrapped around him like one of those little monkeys on the Discovery Channel.

A chemical reaction in my brain wiped out any thought or
reason, and before I could stop myself, I knocked the woman to the ground using
mind control. Her perfect yoga ass hit the sand, and her face contorted into a
comical mask of shock and disbelief.

Drake looked... proud? Ugh. Not the reaction I wanted from
him.

He reached out for my hand. "Sam, it's not what it
looks like. She showed up and... it just... nothing happened. Nothing was going
to happen. I swear to you."
'Read my mind. You'll know I'm telling the
truth.'

I did. Not everything I learned helped the situation—like
the fact that he'd slept with this tramp before he met me. But I also felt his
revulsion. He couldn't stand her touch or her presence, and wanted nothing to
do with her.

That made two of us.

And yes, he was proud of me for using mind control on her. I
squished the little demon of contention that threatened to make a bad situation
worse. This wasn't the time or place for Drake and me to debate the moral
ambiguities of our powers.

Not taking the hint, the woman stood up, brushed herself off
and inserted her fake double-D's between me and my man. Was she stupid?
I
can destroy your mind if I choose to.

Drake barely controlled a laugh when he caught my thoughts.

I scowled at him. He was so
not
off the hook for
this.

Drake brushed the woman aside and wrapped his arm around my
shoulder. "Kylie, this is my girlfriend, Sam."

Kylie's face dropped, but then she looked down at my belly.
A smirk crept onto her pretty, silicone-injected lips. "Ah, I see. Trap by
baby. That explains it." She poked her finger into my shoulder. "You
think this little bundle of joy will hold Drake down? It won't. You can't give
him what I can, in or out of the bed. It's only a matter of time before he
comes crawling back to me."

My face went hot from rage. I pried open her mind without
any of my usual subtlety and ripped into her thoughts like a college kid
tearing into a bag of potato chips.

She squeezed her eyes shut as if in pain. I didn't care.

'Why is he with this shapeless loser when he could have
me? He didn't find out about me and Brad, did he? Is that why he stopped coming
around?'

"He didn't need to know you screwed his best friend to
drop you. You never meant anything to him."

Kylie's eyes got so big I thought her eyeballs would pop
out. Drake looked from her to me and back to her. "You and Brad?
Seriously?"

"How could she know? Nobody knew. How?"

Drake's face turned to stone, but he kept his arm around me
while he addressed her. "Just leave, Kylie. Leave me alone. I don't ever
want to see you again."

I couldn't tell if Drake had coerced her using mind control,
or if she'd left because of the tone of his voice, but at least she was gone.

I slumped in Drake's arms and fought the tears welling up in
my eyes. "I'm a horrible person."

What kind of hypocrite am I? I can't get over Drake using
his powers against me to save my life, but I'm apparently more than willing to
use mine against his old girlfriend.
I basically mind-raped her, and for
what? Because she had her hands on my boyfriend? Because she looks better in a
swimsuit than I do?

I hung my head in shame as my tears threatened to betray me.

Drake turned Sam to face him. "No, you're not horrible.
You're human and she was being a bitch. I'm so sorry you had to go through
that. What are you even doing out here? Shouldn't you be in bed?"

"I'm feeling better. Or at least I was. I think the
worst is over. I’m guessing it’s withdrawal from those new 'vitamin' shots they
gave us."

Vitamins. Right.
The drugs those bastards had given
Sam’s best friends, Luke and Lucy, had turned them into mindless puppets, but
Drake and Sam had undone the damage using their combined para-powers. The same
drugs had made Sam physically sick, but hadn’t compromised her mental
abilities. It made sense that they were still in her system.

Her eyes peeked open, revealing the dazzling blue that took
his breath away each time he looked at her. Her cheeks had pinked a bit, and
the dark circles under her eyes had begun to fade.

"I'm not shaking as much, and I ate a whole egg this
morning."

He smiled. One egg wasn't enough, but it was a lot more than
she'd been able to keep down lately. He'd take any small victory at this point.

Sam reached up and pressed her lips against his. The kiss
ignited all the passion he'd been keeping bottled up since he and Sam met in
person.

Patience had never been one of his virtues, but with Sam it
was different. He couldn't rush her or force her into being with him before she
was ready.

She'd been through so much, and while he craved her body in
ways that making out just didn't satiate, he'd promised her, and himself, that
he would wait until she felt comfortable. But with skin so milky and soft, hair
so smooth and rich, and eyes that seduced him with every glance, it was getting
harder and harder to keep his hands to himself.

He was beginning to sympathize with Joseph, Mary's betrothed
in the Bible, except Sam was carrying
Drake's
child, not God's. And
still, they'd done nothing more than kissing and some touching. Drake wondered
what Father Patrick would say about this. He'd probably be amused that Drake,
who believed in nothing, would draw parallels to himself and Joseph.

"Earth to Drake. You still here?"

"Sorry. I was just thinking about how beautiful you
are."

Sam dropped her head and pulled away. "Yeah, right. I
could
just read your mind, you know."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. It's just... I worry that if I don't... you
know... with you soon, the next time some girl rubs up against you, you won't
be able to resist. And then I'll lose you forever."

Drake pulled her against his chest and held her tight.
"Sam, I love you more than I've ever loved anyone in my whole life.
Nothing could ever keep me from you. You don't need to worry about that. Ever.
Okay?"

She nodded against his chest, but didn't speak.

"Hey, I've got an idea. We're already here at Venice
Beach, and you've been wanting to take a tour of the place, so why don't we
walk around? I'll buy you an ice cream and introduce you to the freakishness
that is Venice. What do you say?"

Finally, a smile. He held her hand and led her into the
crowd, praying that no other surprises awaited them.

An ocean breeze tempered the warm sun as we walked by the
many displays and shops in Venice. The crashing waves in the distance and smell
of seawater relaxed me in a way I hadn't anticipated. Looking around at the
diversity that was Venice Beach, I could understand its appeal to Drake. Here,
people from every walk of life came to hang out. Here, we could easily get lost
in the crowd.

We walked over to an ice cream stand, and Drake bought me a
mint-chip cone. Even this close to winter, Southern California still had warm
days.

His phone beeped. He pulled it from his pocket and responded
to a text as he explained, "Brad. He'll be here in a minute. Sounds like
his day sucked."

We sat on a bench and enjoyed our ice cream in silence.

Brad approached and slouched onto the bench next to us, his
long legs extended out in front of him. "They practically laughed me out
of the office when I tried to pitch them the story of paranormal kids being
rented out by an evil organization. Oh, hey, Sam. You're looking a lot better.
How do you feel?"

"Good, thanks. I think I'm over the worst of it."
I licked a bit of melting ice cream from my cone.

Drake's arm tightened around me, avoiding the
not-quite-healed bullet wound on my arm, a souvenir from our escape. I scooted
closer to him. Even without our mental link, he felt the shift in my energy at
this news.

"We'll just have to go to plan B," he said.

We didn't have a plan B, and everyone knew it.

Brad rolled his eyes but remained silent.

This level of hopelessness wouldn't get us far.

"There's got to be another way to bring our story to
the world," I said. "Look at how much we've already done. Drake and I
escaped Rent-A-Kid. That, in itself, is a miracle. Granted, we had some major
setbacks in the process."

My hand rested on my bulging belly. My baby.
Our
baby,
Ana.

Our baby's namesake consumed my thoughts. My best friends
never even knew they had a mom until moments before her death, let alone one
who loved them so much. Now they'd never know her. She died helping us escape
the clinic....

***

Ana lay against me, pinning me to the floor.

I screamed. A crimson gash covered her abdomen. I tried to
move my arm and flinched. Blood covered my right shoulder. Two bullets—one in
her, and one that just grazed me. She must have moved at the last minute, threw
herself in front of me.

She'd saved my life.

This plan was supposed to be simple. How could this
happen?

My hearing returned as I choked on my sobs. I held Ana and
rocked her, stared at her, willing her to wake up. I waited for that movie
moment when she would open her eyes and tell me it was okay, that it was best
this way. When she would make me vow to help her children and all the other
kids in this hellhole.

That moment never came.

I was robbed of those last words, that final connection.

***

...I pushed those thoughts away, before I spiraled back into
the pit of depression I had been living in for the last two weeks. No time to
dwell on the dead. I had to stay focused on the living, and on how to keep them
that way.

Drake squeezed my hand.
'We'll keep our baby safe. I
promise.'

"I hope so. It's just hard to believe it when I
don't see a way out of this. We don't even exist to the rest of the world. At
least I don't. How are we going to protect our daughter if we can't even take
care of ourselves?"

'First, you need to fully recover. Then we'll make a
plan.'

Brad cleared his throat and ran a tanned hand through his
hair. "Hey, guys, it's great that you two lovebirds have the whole
telepathic connection going on, but maybe you could talk out loud for those of
us who
don't
have para-powers?"

I smiled. "Sorry. Bad habit."

"I know. I just feel like the third wheel around you
guys sometimes." He stood up and paced on the grass in front of us. Both
Brad and Drake were tall, but where Drake had bulk and major muscle, Brad was a
lanky beanpole topped with unruly brown hair.

He continued. "What do we do now? I still think the
best way to stay safe is to get the story out—to let the world know what's going
on and get some support and protection on our side. I thought, after working at
the paper for a year, they would've at least heard me out. But they said if I
want to write fiction I should dump journalism and become a novelist."

I reached out to pat his hand. "Ouch. I'm so sorry,
Brad. That sucks."

"Yeah, Bro," Drake said, "I know how
important your job is to you."

I squeezed Drake's hand. "I still think we should go to
the police. It's not like we live in a third world country. The police are the
good guys, right?"

"In theory," said Brad. "But you're talking
about paranormal powers and secret organizations. They could just as easily put
you in a mental institution."

"But we can
prove
we have these powers. They
don't have to take our word for it. They can test us. Then they'd have to at
least listen to our story."

"Then they'd just put you in a lab."

Drake nodded. "I don't disagree with you, Bro, but I
think it's worth a shot. I'm not a fan of the system, but maybe we can get some
support. If not, we leave. We haven't committed a crime and we're not a danger
to our selves or others, so they can't keep us against our will. If all else
fails, I get us out and no one remembers we were there."

I shifted under Drake's arm. "You know, Brad, I thought
Drake would be the cynical, can't-trust-authority one. Not you."

Brad frowned. "If you guys really want to risk it, I
have a contact in the department from my Crime Watch days. We can talk to him
tomorrow."

A huge weight lifted off my shoulders. If we could get support
from the authorities, we had a chance at success. "In the meantime, I
still think we should get our story out there. And I have an idea. Brad, you
could use your blog."