The slow rumble of a passing car made me flinch. I stepped closer to the side of the old brick warehouse, eyeing the larger one at the other end of the block. The one someone had texted me the address to from Grace’s number, along with a warning: Come get her or she’s dead.

I sure as hell wasn’t going to let it come to that. But I knew better than to rush in unprepared. Maybe there was a way I could get Grace out of there without having to engage the Alpha Project people at all. I’d accomplished an awful lot in the past through distraction and misdirection.

I’d just never had the life of someone I cared about—let’s be real, someone I was coming to love—immediately on the line quite like this.

But if I could rescue her without showing off my abilities directly, that would be better for both of us. Malcolm and his crew couldn’t know everything I was capable of yet. From what my parents had told me and my brothers, a psychic talent like each of us had was very rare. Their abilities were stronger than anyone else they’d met in the Alpha Project facility, and when they’d come together to make a family, we’d inherited power from both sides.

All these lackeys had seen of my talent was me moving a car a foot away in a moment of panic. They probably assumed that was the most I was capable of. A good talent, still, but they’d be ten times as keen to track me down if they realized I could have lifted that car, spun it around, and thrown it across the street if I’d really wanted to.

I edged a little closer, scanning the street and the building. Its brick walls were even more grayed and crumbly than those of the building I was standing next to. The whole street had a deserted smell, like stale ashes.

A plain white delivery van was parked on the other side of the street by the far end of the warehouse. I caught a hint of movement through the window in the back door. Another figure shifted by one of the warehouse’s lower windows. Malcolm had his people keeping an eye out for me. I wasn’t going to be able to waltz right over and scope out the lay of the land.

At least not from the ground. I drew back behind the neighboring building and grabbed hold of a drain pipe. I gripped it and heaved my feet off the sidewalk, adding a heft of mental power.

Between my straining arms and the push of energy I called up, I clambered up to the roof in less than a minute. My breath turned rough, but a rush of exhilaration flowed through me at the same time. It always felt good, stretching my talent, like working any other muscle.

I wiped the sweat from my brow and stalked across the slanted roof toward the other warehouse. No one was watching for me up here. There was a five foot gap between the buildings, but I could make that even without a psychic boost. I gave myself a small running start and leapt.

At the last second I pushed a surge of energy between me and the building. It slowed me to a stop just inches from the roof. I eased my feet down the rest of the way to the angled surface, setting them silently in place.

This warehouse had a couple of huge skylights in the middle of the roof. I slunk over to one and sank down on my hands and knees. The surface was mottled with grime, but when I edged up onto the glass past the worst of the dirt, I could make out the figures far below me. Four of them, standing around a fifth braced in a chair.

My stomach clenched at the sight of Grace. Her shoulders were rigid, her face pale. I couldn’t see exactly how through the dirty window, but her arms and legs were obviously restrained. She looked terrified and determined at the same time. Her mouth moved, and the woman standing in front of her grimaced.

A guy with reddish blond hair who I had to assume was Malcolm stood just a little to the side. And two guys in gray tees and slacks were poised behind Grace’s chair, one carrying a pistol, the other a rifle.

Of course they’d have guns. They wouldn’t want to kill me, not before they’d had a chance to run their experiments, but I doubted they’d have any qualms about shooting Grace if she got in the way. Making sure that didn’t happen was my first priority, before anything else.

I studied the rest of the room below. Any machinery that had once filled the space was long gone. All I had to work with were a couple dozen crates stacked near the walls.

Was that enough? I needed all four of my enemies down there to be on the other side of the room—out of the building, preferably. Then... I could have lifted Grace up here to get her out, but this window didn’t open. I’d have to break it. The whole thing would require perfect timing if I was going to have any chance at all of—

Grace must have said something really biting. The woman whipped back her hand and slapped Grace across the face. My whole body reacted before I could catch myself. I jerked closer to the window, and the heel of my hand tapped the glass.

The heads below me snapped up. So did the one guard’s rifle. Before I could scramble back, he’d opened fire at the skylight.

The sound of the shots boomed in my ears, and the glass shattered beneath me. I didn’t even have time to throw myself off the window. My body plummeted with the broken shards. Shouts were ringing out below. Someone gave a cry. The air whipped past me, yanking at my clothes.

Every instinct screamed at me to catch the fall, to hold myself off the ground, but I couldn’t give away my talent now. It was too late for the plans I’d been making. And those guns were far too close to Grace for comfort. I had to play this right. Wait for a moment when I could use my talent to my full advantage.

I gave in to the urge to save myself just a little. Just enough to push back against the ground and soften my fall. I still hit the ground with a smack of my hip and shoulder, but the impact hurt a lot less than it probably looked like it had.

The shards of broken glass crunched under me. A splinter jabbed the back of my hand. I winced and let my head loll, producing a groan as if I were a lot more injured than I was.

Injured and helpless. Just a wounded bird dropped out of its nest. Nothing to fear here. Go ahead and let down your defenses, assholes.

Footsteps stalked closer. I scanned the room with half-open eyes. Malcolm kicked aside a few of the larger chunks of glass, coming to a stop five feet from where I was sprawled. Too far for me to have reached him without quite a lunge, but plenty close enough to grab him with my mental powers if I needed to.

Behind him, Grace was staring at me, her face completely white now. Her breath was coming in panicked hitches. Her distress made my heart squeeze, but I had to keep pretending I was hurt. I’d be able to comfort her soon enough. I hoped.

“Leave him alone!” she said.

“Shut up,” the woman who appeared to be Malcolm’s colleague snapped.

The guard with the rifle was standing to the left of Grace’s chair, the muzzle of his weapon pointed at me. The other guard stood at her right, with his pistol just inches from her head. The threat was clear. One wrong move, and he’d shoot. My stomach flipped. I could do a lot with my powers, but I couldn’t move fast enough to stop a shot at point-blank range.

“Well, now,” Malcolm said. “All this trouble you’ve put us through and look at you now. Not half as smart as you thought, are you? I’m almost disappointed.”

He squatted down, peering at me. I tensed my arm as if trying to move it and then let it sag against the ground again. Malcolm’s lips twitched with amusement.

Prick. I wasn’t the one overestimating myself here. Just give me one tiny opening. I couldn’t wait to see that satisfied smirk wiped off his face.

“I can see the resemblance,” he said, tipping his head to one side. “More your father than your mom, but they’re both definitely there.”

What? What the hell was he talking about? My gut twisted. Despite myself, my gaze jerked up to meet his. His smile grew.

“Oh, yes. The people I work for have been looking for Jason Keane and Lisa Martin for a long time. I suppose now we know they stayed together at least long enough to produce a kid. You left your apartment in an awful hurry, didn’t you? It wasn’t hard to pick up a trace of DNA for testing.”

Shit. I’d never even thought they might do that. Never thought anyone would even be looking for my DNA. But he wasn’t bluffing. He knew who my parents were. The resemblance—of course Alpha Project would have had photos of their old test subjects on file.

My pulse was racing. I drew in a slow, shaky breath. This didn’t change anything. I hadn’t revealed anything about where my parents were, or about my brothers. He clearly didn’t know the rest of my siblings existed. All I had to do was get the hell out of here...

“I know one person in particular who’s going to be very interested to meet you,” Malcolm said. He straightened up again and pulled a gun from the pocket of his trench coat. A tranquilizer gun. “You don’t look capable of much of a fight, but I don’t believe in taking chances. Have a nice sleep.”

My body braced against the floor, a wave of adrenalin and energy rushing through me. Malcolm lifted the tranq gun to point it at me—and the guard by Grace lowered his pistol a couple inches. Not much, but just enough to give me the opening I’d needed.

Malcolm pulled the trigger. I shoved off the ground at the same time. With half of my focus, I caught the tranquilizer dart, spun it around, and flung it back at Malcolm. With the other half, I wrenched at Grace’s chair.

The dart jabbed Malcolm right in the base of the throat. His face formed the most incredible expression of shock for just a second before his features went slack. His body crumpled.

Grace and her chair flew across the room toward and around me. I sprang to my feet between her and the rest of our enemies. The guards with the guns were already swinging their weapons toward us. I grasped at the stacked crates with all the mental force I could summon and sent them slamming into the two men.

The guards collapsed, unconscious, amid the wreckage. Malcolm’s associate leapt for the tranq gun he’d dropped. I snatched it up first. She flung herself at me, not quite fast enough.

The gun flew into my hand, my finger already sliding around the trigger. I caught the woman with a dart in the chest. Her eyes rolled up as she fell.

“Jeremy!” Grace gasped out. I swiveled to see another guard charging in from the street. With a sweep of my arm, I whipped another crate straight at his head. It smacked his skull with a crack that made me wince. He toppled, his pistol dropping from his limp hand.

“Is that all of them?” I asked, not daring to take my eyes off the door to look at Grace.

“I think so. I was unconscious when they brought me in, but I haven’t seen anyone else.”

I waited several more seconds, my chest heaving with strained breaths. When no one else appeared, I turned and hurried to her. With a snap, I broke the ties around her wrists and ankles.

Grace threw her arms around me, burying her face against my shoulder. A sob broke from her throat. I held her to me tightly, hugging her back as if I never meant to let her go.

“I’ve got you now,” I said, my own throat choked up. “I’ve got you.”

“I thought you’d broken half the bones in your body,” she muttered. “Don’t you dare scare me like that ever again. Unless you have to in order to save my life. I guess that’s acceptable.”

A chuckle hitched out of me. I pulled back just long enough to cup her face and bring her lips to mine. We kissed, brief and desperate, trying to take everything we could from each other in the little time we had.

Then I made myself let go of her and walk toward the fallen bodies. I had to assume the tranquilizer would keep Malcolm and his associate out for a while, like they’d have wanted to knock me out. They wouldn’t have been taking any chances by preparing a weak drug for me. As for the guards...

The one who’d come in last was slumped with his neck at an unnatural angle. Blood was pooling under his head amid the pieces of the smashed crate. My legs locked as I came up on him, my stomach turning.

He looked dead. I didn’t want to touch him to confirm it.

Grace caught up with me and slipped her hand around my elbow. “He would have shot you,” she said. “Probably me too.”

“I know.” I swallowed hard. “I didn’t want things to go down like this.”

His pistol lay on the floor near my feet. I studied it, the queasiness spreading from my stomach up through my chest.

They’d seen what I could do, how much control I had, how quickly I could move things. We were going to get away, but Malcolm or his colleagues would report everything that had happened here back to their bosses at Alpha Project.

Unless I made sure they couldn’t.

The thought crossed through my head, and every particle in my body balked.

No. I wasn’t a murderer. They might call me one for what I’d done to that one guard, but I knew his death was an accident. If I picked up that gun and pulled the trigger, then I really would be a killer.

Grace’s hand tightened around my arm. Had she sensed my silent debate?

“I never expected you to risk everything for me, you know,” she said. “You could have just left. I wouldn’t have blamed you.”

I looked down at her. Her big brown eyes gazed back up at me, sure and steady. And in that moment, if only for a moment, my heart seemed to crack open with a glow of feeling that washed all the fear and guilt away. I brushed my hand over her cheek.

“No, I couldn’t have,” I said, understanding just how true that was as the words came out of my mouth. “And I don’t regret it, not even slightly.”

She leaned into my touch, her eyes closing. “Good,” she murmured.

As much as I wanted to linger in this moment with her, I knew that wasn’t a good idea. “We have to get going. They might have had reinforcements on the way.”

Grace nodded, and we hurried out of the warehouse together.