Page 25

Joey

It wasn’t until Callum shook me that I realized I’d zoned out.

So many thoughts kept running through my mind, each more horrifying than the last. Images of going home and finding Dad’s body covered in blood and lying in the kitchen or finding Erin’s body, neck broken and sprawled on the sofa, waiting for me and Callum to find after racing home.

“ Mo lus na gréine, they’re going to be fine,” Callum said as he crouched in front of me, holding me by the shoulders and staring into my eyes, his own just as frantic as mine no doubt were. “They were going out, remember? They said they weren’t going to be home until later.”

An image of them being attacked from behind as they were messing around at the front door with their keys entered my brain.

“No, Joey,” Callum said emphatically, leaning forward until his forehead pressed against mine. “That’s not going to happen.”

“You can’t promise that,” I whispered, holding onto his forearms like they were the only thing anchoring me to this world. Remotely, I heard George and Boomerang on their phones, almost sounding like they were underwater, even though they were literally less than six feet from me.

“—don’t give a flying fuck that it’s Saturday night, and you’re on a date. I need you to grab Hellhound and head over to—”

“—not sure yet. No, Sav, no need for you to come into the office just yet. I’ll let you know if—”

“Hey,” Callum said, moving his hands from my arms to my cheeks and forcing me to look at him and not the two people pacing next to us. “Ignore them, okay? I know it’s hard, but I need you to help, okay? I’m going to call Mam, and I need you to call Barry. We’re going to keep calling them until one of them picks up, okay?” Staring deeply into my eyes, he nodded slowly, encouraging me to work with him. “Okay?”

Swallowing heavily, I nodded. “Okay.” I didn’t think it was my imagination that a look of determined relief spread over his face. With shaky hands, I grabbed my phone from my pocket and placed it on the table. It took three attempts to unlock it, another four to open my contact list and find Dad’s number. I didn’t think I’d be able to hold the phone to my ear, so I left it on the table and hit dial, then speaker.

The sound of a ringing phone soon filled the air.

One ring. Two rings. Three.

A tear ran down my face. Why wasn’t Dad picking up? He always answered my calls in the first three rings.

Four. Five. Six.

“Dad, come on. Pick up. Pick up, pick up, pick up.”

Seven. Eight.

“Callum…” My eyes met his as more tears fell. He had his phone plastered to his ear and was running his fingers through his now-messy hair as he, too, now paced. “Why aren’t they—”

“Mam! Oh, thank fuck,” Callum said, collapsing in a heap on the ground in front of me.

My heart dropped as some sense of relief poured through my system.

“Is Barry with you?” Callum asked, staring at me as he reached for my hand. “Mam. Stop. Just tell me if Barry is there with you or not. No, Mam! You tell me right now!”

I went willingly, my hand grabbing his as I sunk to the ground with him. I heard my phone still ringing, but I paid it no mind while I waited for Callum’s next words.

“He is?” Callum’s shoulders relaxed as he closed his eyes in sheer relief and clung to my hand. “Oh, thank fuck.”

I fell into him with a heaving sob of relief. My dad was with Erin. He was safe. They were safe. They were alive, and they were safe .

Without letting me go, I felt Callum move around me to hang up my phone that was now going through Dad’s voicemail message. “Mam, I’m going to put you on speaker, okay?” He pulled his phone from his ear and swiped at it until Erin’s voice came through, loud and clear.

“—still your mother and I don’t care if you’re twenty-three or sixty-three, you’re never too old for me to bend over my knee and whip your ass for talking to me like—”

“Petrichor, this is George, and you’re on speaker.”

At George’s deep, serious voice, and the startled silence that came immediately after, I looked up and found him bending over Callum’s phone. Callum slid it onto the table so George could sit down and talk more freely, then wrapped his arms around me, rocking me slightly as he whispered, “They’re okay, mo lus na gréine. They’re okay.”

There was a stilted pause where the only sound we could hear were some footsteps, then a door snicking shut, before Erin said in a quiet, but very tense voice, “George, I want immediate answers to two questions. Why is my son with you on a Saturday night? And why the fuck are you using my code name in his vicinity?”

I grimaced and burrowed into Callum some more. I’d heard this tone of voice before, and it never boded well at who it was directed at. Erin was gearing up for a brawl.

George seemed to know this just as much as Callum and I did, because he ran his slightly trembling fingers through his hair before he leaned his elbows on the table and buried his head in his hands. “Actually, I have your stepson here with me, too.”

A glacial silence was his only response. I could well imagine the look that was on Erin’s face right now.

“Petrichor, can you confirm your husband is in your vicinity?” George asked, choosing to ignore her silent fury. “I currently have two operatives on the phone with a third as they head to your property in an ongoing situation. I need to know that you and your husband are safe and nowhere near there so they can both work freely.”

There was another beat of silence before Erin said in a much more professional manner, “Yes, I can confirm my husband is with me and neither of us are home. Who have you sent?”

“Boogeyman and Hellhound.”

Erin let out a whistle. “The big guns, huh? Okay. What protocol do you want us to follow?”

“I want you to come in immediately,” George said, still hunched over the phone. “Both you and your husband, until we can confirm the situation is safe. Prepare for a long night.”

“I assume our children are to follow the same procedure?”

George glanced at both Callum and me apologetically. “Correct.”

Callum grimaced. He knew as well as I did that our immediate future was going to comprise much shouting and anger from our parents.

“Good. We’ll be on our way in five and there in thirty. Zookeeper, I expect answers when we arrive. Petrichor out.”

After Erin hung up, George ended the call and handed Callum’s phone back to him. “Prepare yourself well, boy. She’ll be on the warpath as soon as she arrives at HQ.”

“Yup.” With a ton of resignation, Callum pocketed his phone and stood before helping me up. “I guess it was only a matter of time before she found out. I would have preferred it under different circumstances, though.”

George patted him on the shoulder in sympathy. “You’ll be okay. Just be honest with her. She can’t ask for anything more than that.”

Pressing his lips together tight, Callum sighed. “I guess.”

As we watched George walk over to Boomerang at the other side of the courtyard and motioned for the phone she was on, I leaned into Callum. “Zookeeper?”

“George’s code name,” Callum responded wryly. “Because he herds us all like wild animals.”

The laugh I let out was somewhat hysterical, as whatever tension still in my system found an outlet. What he’d said wasn’t that funny, but I couldn’t stop myself from laughing so hard that I started hiccupping.

In response to my outburst, Callum only smiled softly, threw his arm around my shoulders, and leaned in to kiss my temple as we walked out. “I know, mo lus na gréine. I know.”

The drive to Callum and George’s workplace was silent.

Callum and I held each other’s hands as he concentrated on the drive, and I stared out the passenger side window at the passing scenery. A mix of emotions filled me as I thought about the past hour and how much had come to light and how lucky we were that our parents hadn’t been home. The coming few hours were going to be telling in more ways than one, and I knew Callum was readying himself for the mother of all fights with Erin. There was no way I was going to get through unscathed, but I knew he had the most to explain.

And that was even without getting into the whole boost thing. How the fuck had that happened? I knew Dad had been adopted as a baby, so could the ability have come through him? My birth mother hadn’t been around since I was a baby myself, and I wasn’t sure if Dad even knew where she was now. If the power had come from her, there might not be any way to trace it.

Either way, did it change who I was as a person? I didn’t think it did. I was still the same person I’d been yesterday. And from what George had said, this power was of no benefit whatsoever to me directly; it was only of help to other people. Essentially, I was still a normie. I think that knowledge, more than anything else, settled my spiraling thoughts on the matter. I could help Callum in his job simply by being by his side, which was where I always wanted to be anyway. Was that unhealthy? Possibly, but after seeing our future and how happy we were together, unhealthy seemed like it would work for us.

When I felt the car slow, I blinked and brought myself back to the present. We were coming up to a massive glass and white stone building, all lit up even though we were approaching nine at night on a Saturday. A simple stout sign sat next to the entrance, declaring in bold capital letters that we were entering a federal government building. The associated seal sat proudly to the left of the lettering.

If there had been any remaining doubt at the validity of what Callum and George did for a living, passing that sign demolished it.

Callum trailed George’s car into the parking lot, swiping a keycard at the iron gate. I knew Boomerang was in her car behind us, and her headlights lit our interior as she followed us in, pausing only to swipe her own keycard.

We disappeared into an underground garage, passing what looked like a mechanic’s workshop that had multiple hoists, but only one had a vehicle loaded. Near it, an older man in gray, oil-stained overalls lifted his hand to George as he drove past and eyed the rest of us with curiosity while he wiped a wrench with a filthy rag.

Down we went, two levels into the brightly lit depths of this enormous building, twisting around so many times that I had no hope of remembering the way out again.

In a strange way, that made me feel safe. As far as I knew, Leland was still out there, and that knowledge scared the crap out of me. Even though there was no guarantee he’d be found tonight, logically, I knew it was only a matter of time before he was in custody, because we had the tools to continually track him. My emotions, however, were frayed at the edges after having him get so close to our parents. If we were all in such a secure building, it would be so much harder for the Agent to get to either me or my loved ones.

Callum pulled into a numbered parking spot and turned off the engine. While he dug around in the console for his identification tags, he let the silence envelope us before turning to face me and bringing my hand to his cheek to rub against it. “How are you doing, mo lus na gréine?”

A tiny shiver ran down my spine as my thumb stroked against his skin absently. How was I doing? “Numb. But touching you makes it less.”

A hint of a sad smile graced his lips before he turned into my open palm and kissed it. “I’ll make sure to never let you go then.”

I let out a puff of a chuckle. “Might make things difficult getting out of the car. Not to mention going to the toilet.”

“Eh, we’ll make it work.”

Looking past him through the driver’s side window, I could see George pacing near the elevators, while Boomerang stood vigil, her arms crossed in front of her. The bright disposition that she’d held earlier when she’d arrived at Urban Grind was gone, and in its place was a determined young woman eager to get things moving. The contrast was startling.

“We should probably catch up to them.” I nodded looking behind him, and Callum turned his head following my gaze.

Callum hummed, but it wasn’t a full agreement. “They can wait.” He turned back and watched me. “It’s going to be frantic in there, especially when Mam and Barry arrive. Are you ready for all that?”

I shrugged. “I don’t think I’ve really got a choice anymore.”

He nuzzled into my palm again. “You only need to say the word, and I’ll drive us out of here. They won’t be happy, and I have no idea where we could go, but you’ll always have a choice, mo lus na gréine. Always.”

My heart melted. His words were a pleasant illusion, and I knew he believed each one, but I was also highly aware that leaving now would only extend this nightmare for us all. It was better to just get on with it and see where the cards fell when it was all over. I cast my eyes over Callum, sitting there next to me, so eager to protect me from all the bad things, so determined to be everything I needed.

Silly man. All he had to do was exist.

“Let’s go, sweetness. Let’s get this over with.” I tried to release my hand from his so we could get out of the car, but Callum refused to let me go. Instead, he climbed over the center console and followed me out the passenger side door, making me snort in amusement. “You’re ridiculous.”

He simply shrugged. “Didn’t want to let you go.” He held our clasped hands up to his sternum and drew me into him, wrapping his other arm around my waist before he leaned forward to kiss me chastely. “Never want to let you go.”

Leaning my forehead against his, I murmured, “You don’t have to.” I ran my fingertips over his cheekbone with my free hand, suddenly aware that he needed this confirmation of where we stood with each other, this narrow window of calm before the inevitable storm. “I love you, sweetness. Always will.” I let our lips drift tenderly together before I slowly pulled back. “But we still need to get moving.”

Putting his id tags into his pocket, he sighed; his shoulders slumped slightly in resignation. “Alright.”

With our fingers interlaced, we made our way towards George and Boomerang, George hitting the elevator call button as soon as he saw us on the move. We went up nine floors before the doors opened to a small lobby and a hallway that kept going straight until it disappeared into the distance. Doors lined both sides, all with keycard scanners. Most seemed to have plates attached to advise workers what was behind each door. The entire area gave off a typical corporate office vibe, which I guessed couldn’t be helped. This was a government building, after all.

George led us down the corridor before swiping his keycard at a door on the right. Beyond the door was an open floor plan cubicle farm with a large TV hanging on the wall opposite us. It was switched on, and seemed to be airing a news channel.

To our left, one long central strip of the wall had been converted into a corkboard, split into columns. There were glass doors interspersed between the different sections, one of which George led us towards, but we were waylaid by the only two other people in the room.

One I’d seen when he’d met us the night before—God, had it only been a single day?—to pass over the kit to Callum as we drove past. I hadn’t been introduced to Kiddo at the time, but as he stuck the parcel through the window, he’d reminded me remarkably of a young Manny Jacinto. Same lively energy, wide grin, and slim build, even going so far to notice that his cropped hair was styled similarly to his character from The Good Place . Where yesterday, he’d been wearing all black, today, he was wearing a rumpled pair of dark jeans that looked like they’d once been black a very long time ago, and a button down of indeterminate color that seemed to hover somewhere between a murky gray and a pale brown.

The second person I’d not met before. With the way Kiddo was sitting on her desk, swinging his feet underneath and carefully avoiding the three monitors that were also sitting there, I assumed this was Marcy. A gorgeous Black woman, with a riot of curls atop her head that almost covered the chunky silver jewelry in her ears, Marcy sat back in her chair as we entered. Her elbows relaxed on the armrests and her fingers intertwined on top of her fluffy, pure white sweater as she narrowed her gaze at us. Her vibrant red pants were the most colorful thing in her immediate vicinity and drew the eye to her long, slim legs.

“George?” she asked curiously, her half-hooded but serious eyes almost looking down her nose at us, as if she was trying to determine if we were worth her time.

Behind us, Boomerang had speared off to a different desk in the corner where a mess of rolled papers were waiting.

“Locksmith, I need you. You too, Foundling,” George said, not breaking stride, even though Callum had slowed a little. “War room. Now.”

Immediately, both became much more serious, grabbing notebooks and pens from wherever they could find them, before scurrying to follow us. Locksmith stalled only long enough to log out of her computers.

“Locksmith is Marcy,” Callum muttered in my ear. “Foundling’s Kiddo, who you met last night.”

I nodded as he picked up his pace again. Wordlessly, I trailed after him, my hand still in his, before I noticed a corkboard that had a polaroid in a Ziploc baggie pinned to it. The image was of Callum, asleep on his stomach, his t-shirt bunched around his waist and his arm wrapped around a pillow with a natural half-smile on his face. It would have been a gorgeous photo of him, if it hadn’t been so creepy.

I tugged Callum to a stop and when he turned to see what had stopped me, I tilted my head at the polaroid and the rest of the information surrounding it, and gave him my best one-eyebrow raise to show my curiosity. I wondered if we had enough time for me to get caught up on what had been pinned there.

He shook his head before pulling me into motion once more to guide me through the doorway that George had already entered. “Later.”

Guess not. Sighing, I looked longingly at the wealth of data on the corkboard as I passed it, and promised myself I’d find a way to come back later to read it all.

In front of us were four large tables, stacked end to end, surrounded by twenty plush leather chairs. A whiteboard dominated the right wall, but unlike the corkboard outside, this had been wiped clean. The left wall was plain but had built-in seating. The wall opposite us was made up almost entirely of windows that looked out onto a corridor, with a closed glass door the only thing breaking up the wall of glass.

“Take a seat, guys,” George said, motioning at the room in general before tossing the baggie that still held my glove and the Agent’s hair in it onto the table.

Callum led us to two seats at the end of the makeshift long table, opposite the whiteboard, so we had a clear visual on whatever was to come. He rested his hands on the tabletop, taking mine with him as he still didn’t want to let me go. It only felt right to bring my other hand up to join our clasped fingers while we watched the door.

Kiddo was the first through the door after us, followed closely by Marcy. Boomerang came soon after, her arms overflowing with rolled up maps and plans which she dumped unceremoniously on the table and began spreading out in an order known only to her.

“Do I need to call everyone in?” Kiddo asked George as he beelined to the seat next to mine.

“Not just yet,” George replied. “We have two in the field now, and I want to see how successful they are before we bring any more people in on the situation.” He looked at Marcy. “We have a retired agent and her civilian husband coming in any minute. I need you and Foundling to handle them as best you can.”

Marcy raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow as she took her seat on the other side of Kiddo. “Handle them?”

From the other side of the tables, George sighed and scratched his chin as he paced. “I’m expecting them to be combative as soon as they arrive.”

“Got it.” Marcy scribbled something in her notebook. “How long will they be here for?”

“Unknown,” George said. “They could end up staying for a while in the units upstairs. That’s where I’ll need Foundling’s help. Neither have been to this facility since the rebuild, so they won’t know the layout.”

Marcy and Kiddo looked at each other and nodded. “We’ll look after them,” Kiddo said earnestly.

George’s phone rang, and he glanced at the screen before he said, “Speaking of…” He swiped at his phone. “You’ve arrived?” A pause. “I’ll send someone down now.” He hung up and looked at Marcy. “They’re at reception now. Can you grab them and bring them up? Once they’re here, I can explain more.”

“Done.” Marcy gathered her things and gently hip-checked Boomerang with a grin as she went past, making Boomerang chuckle and follow her out.

A tense silence filled the room as Callum and I drew deep breaths, readying ourselves for verbal combat. George looked resigned, his fingers alternating between scratching his chin and running through his now ragged head of hair.

“It’s great to see you again,” Kiddo said quietly, leaning his shoulder into mine as he played with his pen, flicking it this way and that. “I hope the kit helped you out last night.”

Surprisingly, after everything we’d been through over the past couple of hours, I found myself smiling. He was just too damn adorable in his eagerness to help. “It did what we needed it to do.”

He made a pleased noise, his own grin stretching from ear to ear as he wiggled in his seat. “Good.” His pen spun in his fingers once, then twice, before he lost control of it, and it bounced against my hand and headed for the center of the table.

Both Kiddo and I reached for the pen and, in our stretch, Kiddo brushed his hand against mine. Immediately, he froze in place, his eyes wide as his grin slowly faded and he stared straight ahead into space. Seemingly without conscious effort, he grabbed my hand and gripped it hard, making me drop the pen I’d since picked up.

“Um, sure. You can have the pen. I don’t actually need it,” I bantered, trying to make light of the situation, even as I stared at Callum for help. He simply shrugged, at as much of a loss as I was by the turn in Kiddo’s temperament.

Once he began grinding my fingers to the point of pain, I flexed to get him to stop. “Okay, ow. Kiddo? Buddy? You need to stop now, please.” I looked up at George, who was watching us with great interest. “George? A little help, please?”

George did nothing except let his eyes go dark, letting us all know he was going into a vision.

“Oh, come on. Really?” I rolled my eyes, then winced as Kiddo gripped my hand even harder. “Fuck. Kiddo, please, let go.” I wiggled my other hand loose from Callum’s grasp so I could try to pry Kiddo’s fingers from mine.

Of course, it was at that exact moment that Erin and Dad walked in with Marcy on their heels.