Sacrifice

“A Fifth,” Irish said. “Not a Guide.”

Too much had happened for Michael to play this any way but aggressively. “Tell me why I shouldn’t shoot you, too.”

Irish took that question at face value. “I’m not like him. I wasn’t here for you.”

“Then who are you here for?”

“Myself.” He paused. “I moved here to get away from all that.”

Michael’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“Because my father was a Guide. I saw what he had to do. I wanted no part of that.” He paused. “I think your Hunter was the same?”

Your Hunter. Michael had to put a hand over his chest, the ache was so strong and sudden.

Irish reached out, and Michael jumped. He had the gun pointed before he’d finished a breath.

Irish put his hands up. “Take it easy. I’m sorry. You’re hurting—”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Fine,” Irish said equably. “But I’m not your enemy.”

“We’ll see.” After a second, Michael put the gun away.

“There are more of us than you’d think,” Irish said. “The Guides don’t like us much either, for what it’s worth.”

“Why?” said Michael.

Irish shrugged. “Younger generation. New way of thinking.” He paused. “A lot of us think it’s time for a change.”

“Me, too,” said Michael.

“Maybe we can make that happen together,” said Irish. He held out his hand.

After a moment, Michael shook it.

When Irish tried to pull away, Michael held fast. “What’s going on between you and Hannah?”

“She asked me to tell her everything.”

Michael felt that like a bullet. He winced. He should be telling her.

He should have told her.

But maybe it was better this way. He’d never be safe. Not really.

“Good,” he said. But he still didn’t let go of Irish’s hand. “You didn’t really answer my question.”

Irish raised his eyebrows.

Michael repeated himself. “What’s going on between you and Hannah?”

Irish smiled. “Ask her.”

CHAPTER 31

Michael’s brothers sat in the back of an ambulance, wrapped in blankets. They’d been examined and questioned and told to wait.

So Michael sat on the tailgate and waited. He didn’t want to move. He felt like if he stayed right here, he could keep his brothers safe.

They hadn’t said much since the paramedics had left them alone. Michael couldn’t blame them. He didn’t feel like talking, either.

He kept turning around to look at them, though. He couldn’t quite believe they were safe and unharmed, as if one of these times he’d swivel on the tailgate, and the ambulance would be empty and this whole night would be a cruel joke.

He kept hoping he’d turn around, and Hunter would be sitting there with them.

When he’d done it one too many times, Gabriel said, “We’re still here, Mike.”

“I know.” He studied them, their drawn and filthy faces, the way they sat huddled together. “I thought . . .”

He couldn’t finish that sentence.

Nick nodded as though he knew what Michael was trying to say. He glanced at his brothers. “We thought we were dead, too.”

Michael swallowed, remembering images of the bombing he’d seen first on television, and then firsthand. He’d never be able to forget the sound of Hannah’s voice in his ear, saying that they’d found body parts.

But here were his brothers, safe and sound in front of him.

Someone else’s kids hadn’t been so lucky. Hunter hadn’t been so lucky. Neither had Calla Dean—regardless of whether she’d deserved it.

Tyler had been lucky. Hunter’s power burst had healed him as well as it had Michael.

“We tried to warn them,” said Chris.

“Warn who?” said Michael.

“The people in the house,” said Gabriel. His face was paler than usual, and he kept glancing at the trail where the Guide had fallen—and where Hunter had vanished into a plume of power and elemental energy. “Nick felt it first—that someone had broken in—”

“I didn’t know it was a bomb,” said Nick. His face was white, too. “I just thought the Guide was after us. We wouldn’t have run if we’d known. We would have helped—”

“It’s not your fault,” said Michael. “I’m glad you ran. I told you to run.”

“We tried to warn the others that someone had broken in, that we were all in danger—”

“Yeah, we tried,” said Gabriel. “But they wouldn’t f**king listen.”

Chris picked up his rage and ran with it. He scowled. “They thought we were trying to run away.”

Michael understood the anger—it was so much easier to deal with than grief, which would sucker punch you when you least expected it.

Hunter had given up everything to save them. And not just them—possibly the whole county. Maybe more. Michael thought of their conversation at Adam’s kitchen table, when he’d told Hunter that he tried to do what his father would have expected of him.

Had Hunter taken that to heart? Had his decision been a direct result of that conversation?

Was this really what Hunter’s father would have wanted? Or was that just what Hunter had believed?

Michael had no idea. And he wasn’t sure it really mattered.

He wasn’t sure he was worthy of the sacrifice.

“How did the Guide know where to find you?” said Michael.

“We don’t know,” said Nick.

“We thought—” Gabriel started, but he stopped himself.

“We thought he’d killed you,” said Chris. “We thought he’d gotten the information out of you somehow.”

Michael realized that while he’d been feeling lost and alone, his brothers had been feeling the same. He shook his head. “They wouldn’t tell me where you’d been taken. Even David didn’t know.”

Shoes crunched on the broken pavement behind him. “Didn’t know what?”

Michael turned to find Marshal Faulkner standing there. He considered lying—but there’d been so many lies and secrets and half truths, and he just couldn’t find the strength anymore.

“How did this guy find them? How did he know which home to target?”

Marshal Faulkner glanced into the ambulance and then back at Michael. His voice was heavy. “Because he was a cop.” He paused. “He knew who to call, what to say, what to ask.”

Of course. Michael didn’t know how to respond to that.

He shifted and looked into the ambulance again. “When can I take my brothers and get out of here?”

“You can’t.”

“What?” Michael stood, and he was so tired and furious and desperate that his powers flared too. He fought to keep the earth still. “Why not? Am I under arrest again? Am I—”

“Calm down. You’re not under arrest. Your friend, Tyler, either. Hannah and Irish have already made a statement. That guy had enough explosives strapped to him that I don’t think we’re going to have too hard a time proving self-defense. That doesn’t mean I don’t have some questions for you, however.”

“I can answer your questions later. I want to get out of here. I want to take my brothers home.”

“Oh yeah?” The fire marshal raised an eyebrow. “Where’s that, Mike?”

Michael took a step forward. “Don’t f**k with me—”

“I’m not.” Marshal Faulkner held his ground. “I’m telling you that there’s a court order in play, and if you want to have any hope of getting custody back permanently—”

“You can’t seriously think I’m going to let them out of my sight again. You failed to keep them safe.”

“So did you. If you’d been up front with me about the danger—”

“I’m taking them out of here.”

“Then you’ll be charged with kidnapping. I’m trying to help you here—”

“Whoa!” Gabriel was suddenly on the ground, pushing Michael back. “Back off, Mike. It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine. You know what we’re dealing with, and—”

“Yeah! I do!” Gabriel shoved him in the chest, some real fury behind it. “We all do! And we dealt with it.”

Michael stared at him, more surprised by the anger than anything else.

“We’re not twelve anymore,” Gabriel said.

“You’re not adults, either—”

“Yeah, well, we’re almost the same age you were when Mom and Dad died.”

Michael didn’t want to fight—but he kind of did. Fighting with Gabriel felt easy, natural, and crowded thoughts of darker things out of his head. “I know how old you are. Maybe you could act like it.”

Chris burst out of the ambulance with a vengeance. “Maybe you could! You don’t have to protect us all the time, Michael. You’re not our father. You’re our brother.”

“Don’t fight,” said Nick. He stepped out of the ambulance, too. “There’s been enough fighting.” Then his eyes met Michael’s. “But I agree with them. We’re not helpless. You don’t have to keep acting like we are.”

He knew they weren’t helpless. He’d known that for a long time.

But if he didn’t have to watch out for his brothers, what else did he have?

Marshal Faulkner put a hand on his shoulder. “They’ll be okay. Aren’t you appearing in front of a judge in a few days anyway?”

Michael looked at his brothers. They looked so defiant—but strong and capable, too. He didn’t know what to say.

“It’s not safe,” he started.

“It’s never safe,” said Nick. “Never. And what are you going to do? Load us into the truck and take off?”

“The truck is totaled,” Michael said. But yes, he’d been planning something exactly like that.

His brothers looked stunned. “The truck—is totaled?” said Gabriel.

“Yeah. From the restaurant bombing.” Michael leaned against the edge of the ambulance. He rubbed at his eyes. The fire marshal was right. Nothing had changed. He had nowhere to take his brothers. No vehicle to take them in.

The night had been terrifying, and he’d been so relieved to have his brothers back that he hadn’t considered practicalities.

This sucked.

“What do we need to do?” said Chris.

Michael looked up and sighed—but Chris wasn’t talking to him. He was talking to the fire marshal.

Marshal Faulkner glanced between Michael and his brothers. “Same as before.” He hesitated. “You’ll stay with someone approved for emergency custody for a few days.”

“Fine,” said Nick.

“Fine,” agreed Gabriel. “Let’s go.”

“Not fine,” said Michael. He couldn’t let this happen again. He couldn’t go another night without knowing where his brothers were. Not now, not this soon. “I told you—”

“Wait.” Marshal Faulkner held up a hand. “Would you feel better if you knew where they were?” He looked at each of them again. “If you all agree to behave until your brother has a court date, I can pull some strings.”

Michael hesitated.

“We agree,” said Chris.

“We agree,” said Nick. He punched Gabriel in the arm and got the same response.

“Besides,” said Gabriel. “You can’t be a pain in the ass from jail, so you’d better do this the legal way.”