Forbidden Fire-sneak peek-Chapt. 1&2

[image error]Read Forbidden Mind and want a sneak peek into Forbidden Fire? Here are the first 2 chapters for your reading pleasure. Caution: contains spoilers to book 1, Forbidden Mind. So go read that first, if you haven't already. Get it on Amazon, Nook Smashwords, BookieJar, iTunes.

Also, contains typos. Probably. This is an unedited version. Wait til my editor gets his hands on it and it'll be a whole new beast!

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"They've started a fire they can't put out. Will it destroy them… or save them all?"

Sam and Drake may have escaped, but they aren't free—not with a powerful Seeker after them. As Sam struggles with the ethics of her new powers and embraces a blossoming physical relationship with Drake, her friends at Rent-A-Kid face challenges of their own.

With forces coalescing inside and outside the Rent-A-Kid dorms, it's only a matter of time before the fire they started forces each of them to make choices they can't undo. But will it be enough to save them?

Add Forbidden Fire on Goodreads.

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Chapter 1 – Sam

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Sam

Brad slammed the door so hard the apartment shook, then walked to the trash and shoved torn bits of paper into it. Uh-oh. "Guess it didn't go well?"

He slouched onto the shabby recliner with his computer bag on his lap. He propped his long legs up on the hand-me-down coffee table. "They practically laughed me out of the office."

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

"We'll just have to go to Plan B," Drake said.

I couldn't speak. We didn't have a Plan B and everyone in the room knew it.

Brad rolled his eyes but also 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. 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's face consumed my thoughts before I pushed them away. No time to dwell on the dead. We had to stay focused on the living, and 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 that 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. "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 who don't have para-powers?"

"Sorry. Bad habit." We'd only been together in person for a week. After months of mind talking, we had to remind ourselves to speak out loud.

"I know. I just feel like the third wheel around you guys sometimes." Brad stood up and paced the warn carpet. "Why are all the blinds closed? It's morbid in here. No wonder we're all depressed." He reached for the blind.

"No!" I jumped up off the couch. My heart raced. Panic filled my veins.

"What?" Brad raised an eyebrow and looked to Drake for answers. 'What's she so jumpy about? Pregnancy nerves, probably… '

"I'm not some crazy pregnant lady!"

"Sam, get out of my head. You know I hate that. I think I've been pretty cool with all this super power stuff, what with growing up with Drake, but you can't go reading my mind whenever you want."

"I know, I'm sorry. But just please don't open the blinds."

"She thinks we're being followed," Drake said with doubt in his voice as he gently pulled me back to the couch and rubbed my back with his large, warm hand.

"Gee, thanks for the support." Despite my snark, I rested my head against his shoulder. The feel of his body calmed me—made me feel safe. His scent, the heat from his skin… had some kind of physiological effect that even relaxed our baby.

'Sam, we are safe here.'

Brad dropped the blinds and sat back down. "Have you seen someone? Or… heard someone mentally or something?"

"Not exactly. It's like, you know that feeling when someone is looking at you, like the hairs on the back of your neck are standing at attention? That's what I'm feeling, only mentally. I think someone is trying to lock onto my, or our, mental signatures." My hands twitched nervously until Drake held them still. "It's what I'd do."

"Okay, well, we'll keep the blinds closed if it makes you feel better. So, back to the problem at hand. What do we do now? I thought, after working there for a year, they would at least hear me out. But they said if I want to write fiction I should dump journalism and become a novelist."

"Ouch. I'm so sorry Brad. That sucks," I said.

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

I shifted on the couch so I could see both of them, marveling at how different they were in looks and personality. I wondered, not for the first time, how they'd stayed friends all these years. Tall, lanky Brad with his laid back surfer personality and Drake… muscular, angry, intense, Drake. Well, they both liked to surf, so there was that. "I still don't understand why we can't just go to the police. It's not like we live in a third world country. The police here 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 talk our word for it. They can test us. Then they'd have to at least listen to our story, right?"

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

Drake sneered at him. "I think it's worth a short. The system isn't all bad. Maybe we can get some support. If not, we leave. We haven't committed a crime and we're not a danger to ourselves or others, so they can't keep us against our will."

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

They guys exchanged a look that indicated a history to explain Brad's wariness. Tempted though I might have been, I didn't pry. They'd tell me if they wanted me to know. Mind readers don't keep friends long by prying in their minds at every opportunity.

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!" I pulled out my computer bag and turned on my MacBook.

"Sam, my blog gets all of twenty hits a day if I'm lucky. That's hardly enough to gain us huge support."

"But anything can go viral at any moment. We just need a little luck and an interesting enough story." I opened a webpage and emailed the link to Brad. "Read that. It's an article about blogs that went viral, and how they did it. You've got a good following on Twitter. We just need to make the story sexy and enticing, something people want to share. It's the only way I can see to get our story out. Plus, your blog can go international, unlike this newspaper. Even if they print your story, getting a few supporters in Los Angeles isn't going to get us far. We need to reach the world. This is the way."

Brad used his iPhone to read the article. "I guess it might work. But I'll need to do a series on you two, especially you, Sam. And we'll have to include the evidence Ana gave you. Pictures, names, places, the genetic experiments they are doing on the kids there. All of it."

I nodded and set my laptop on the coffee table, covering a series of overlapping pale rings of stains.

I lifted myself off the couch, feeling awkward and large with the baby belly, and walked the few steps to the tiny kitchen. We were lucky that Brad's roommate had recently moved out, leaving a spare room for us to crash in while we planned our next move. "Drake, where did you put the ibuprofen? My arm is seriously burning again."

"I could've gotten it for you. It's in the cupboard above the sink."

The small bottle hid behind mugs and a can off coffee. I poured water and downed two tablets. "I appreciate it, but I am capable of getting things for myself." My words came out harsher than I intended. I softened my voice. "But thank you for the offer."

His large framed appeared in the kitchen, blocking my way out. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." I tried to scoot past him.

He rested a hand on my face. "What's wrong? Are you still angry that I used mind control on you when we were escaping?"

"No, I'm not. I told you, I understand why you did it. I'd been shot. Was pregnant. Ana had been killed. We needed to get out of there before they recaptured us. I get it. Like I said that night, I can't judge you for something that I can justify doing myself. The end justifies the means sometimes, right?"

"Then why do I get the feeling you don't fully trust me? Or that you're scared or something?"

"I am scared, but not of you. And I do trust you, Drake. You saved my life, and our baby. It's just, being here, stuck in this tiny apartment, not doing anything to help Luke and Lucy get out of there, it's making me crazy. Everyone's treating me like an invalid, when I'm not!"

"Sam, you got shot. By a gun—"

"—It was just a graze, hardly a real wound—"

"—and you're pregnant with some kind of super baby, with no real medical care. Do you blame me for worrying about you? You could have died that night, Sam. That thought haunts me every moment of every day. The thought of losing you… and her…." His left hand rested on my belly.

Our little girl, Ana, kicked hard, causing us both to smile.

My body leaned into his, my hands looked so small against his strong chest. An electric pulse seared us as our lips touched. Our breath mingled, the taste and scent of him so familiar, so right. Barely a week had passed since we met in person. But the mental link we'd shared for months, thanks to my mind reading and his mind control abilities, sealed us together in a way a even a physical relationship couldn't have. Now that we had the physical, we were like one heart—one mind—sharing two bodies.

I pulled back from him just enough to look into his beautiful blue eyes. "I'm sorry I snapped. I know you just want me safe. I love you so much."

"I love you too. Now, will you let me check your arm? I want to make sure that it's not getting infected."

"Yeah, I guess. Just no poking!"

He grinned. "Sure, no poking."

Without warning, Drake swooped me up and carried me to the kitchen table like I weighed twenty pounds and not one hundred and… well, more than I did before the organization made me pregnant. I sometimes forgot about Drake's super strength, he made it a point to be gentle with me.

I punched him lightly on the chest. "You know you're going to give me a heart attack if you keep doing that!"

"It's my job to sweep you off your feet every once in awhile!"

He sat me gently on the kitchen chair and unwound the gauze around my arm. I peeked over my shoulder to assess the healing. The shallow groove through my arm created by a .22 caliber bullet had scabbed over, though still looked pretty raw. The stitched up surgical gouge Ana had created when she removed a tracking device from my arm actually looked worse, and caused the most pain. Drake's seemed to be healing up well, nearly a scar by now. His super strength allowed his body a faster regeneration and healing cycle. I'd have given a lot for that para-power.

The hydrogen peroxide stung as he dabbed it on both wounds. I bit my lip and stayed still.

"Am I hurting you?"

"No. The medicine is. Keep going."

He put the cotton ball down. "I'm done anyways. No infection has set in as far as I can see. You're healing well." He rewrapped my arm with clean gauze, taped it closed gently and rolled down the sleeve of my blue long-sleeved shirt.

He planted a kiss on my forehead. "How you feeling?"

"Tired. I swear this baby is sucking away at my life force. She's like a little leech!" Just as I said that a burst of heat exploded in my abdomen. I bent over, not in pain but in fear and discomfort.

"What's wrong? Are you okay?" Drake's voice shook.

"I don't know."

Brad approached. "Dude, she okay?"

Drake ignored him and directed all his attention to me.

I explained to them what I'd felt. "I think… this may sound crazy, but I think it's the baby trying to use her powers."

Drake knelt to his knees and examined my face and body. "Do you know what her powers are?"

"No. Right now it's just a sense. I'm okay." To prove it, I sat up straighter and smiled. "Didn't hurt, just surprised me. But she's definitely active!"

Brad handed me a glass of water. I nodded thanks and drank it down in one gulp. He refilled the glass three more times before I had my fill.

"Thirsty much?" Brad teased.

"Guess so. Weird. It was like all the liquid in my body evaporated, leaving me dry as the desert. I've never been so thirsty in my life."

Drake rested a cool hand on my head. "Your color is coming back. You were pretty pale there for a few minutes. You feel warm, but not too hot. How are you now?"

"Okay I think."

Drake helped me up. "Maybe you should lay down for a few minutes."

I didn't want to waste any time resting, but when I tried to walk I nearly collapsed. So, yeah, maybe resting made sense.

"I'm gonna carry you, K?"

"Do I have a choice?"

Drake just smiled his impish grin. Nope, I apparently did not have a choice.

Once again he lifted me into his arms and walked with me to our bedroom and bed.

He opened our bedroom window. A salty breeze floated in. Brad lived down the street from the ocean. I loved the smell and energy of the ocean.

Drake sunk into the bed next to me and my body rolled right into him. "Did you do that on purpose?" I asked. A smile stretched across my lips. Despite everything, these tiny moments of contact, of love, held so much joy for me. I couldn't let myself forget that.

His eyes twinkled in mischief. "Maybe."

More heat as our lips touched. My belly and heart fluttered in unison. I pulled my mouth far enough away to talk. "You know this isn't exactly relaxing."

"You're right. You need rest."

Even as he said this his hand traveled up my leg, hips and waist, over my ribs, brushing gently against the side of my breast. My breath caught in my chest. A whole new kind of heat flooded my body. I wanted him so badly, my body craved him, but despite sharing a bed since our escape, we hadn't crossed that last line. The irony of our predicament did not escape me. If anyone so much as cracked a Virgin Mary joke they would lose key body parts. But I wanted my first time to be… well, duh—special! Not that it wouldn't be special with Drake, but doing it for the first time while pregnant felt… weird. Doing it for the first time with a newborn to nurse probably wouldn't feel any less weird, I reminded myself.

"You look far away," Drake said, so close I could taste his breath.

"Just thinking… about us and you know… sex."

"There's no rush, Sam. I'm not going anywhere."

"I know. I don't feel pressure from you."

He chose that moment to push into my hips.

"Okay, maybe I do feel a certain kind of pressure from you," I teased. "But you know what I mean. I just, it's so weird. This whole thing is so backwards!"

"Yeah, we don't do things in a very normal way."

"Guess not. I'm just so glad we're finally together and have the space to work through all this. I missed you. Even though we hadn't met yet, my body missed you. Does that even make sense?"

He nudged my nose with his. "I don't know if it makes sense, but I felt the same way too. But you have me now. Both of you do."

Brad interrupted us, calling from the living room. "Hey guys, get in here. I want to get this first blog post up and I need to ask you a few questions."

We both sighed.

Before Drake could say no, I sat up. "We should do this now. The sooner we do, the sooner we save our friends."

Drake held his hand out to me. "Shall we?"

He helped me out of the bed and rubbed my shoulders as we went back to the living room for our interview with Brad.

Brad looked up from his computer. "Hope I didn't interrupt anything."

Drake scowled at him.

Brad laughed. "Ready to be famous, kids?"

"Maybe if you make us famous enough, I'll finally get a real last name, driver's license and, you know, identification of some sort. I'd like to not have to be chauffeured around the rest of my life."

"So picky. Some people are just never satisfied," said Brad.

"Pfft. Didn't you have actual questions to ask us?" I asked.

"Yeah, okay. I'm going to do a series on you, Sam. I'll throw in some of Drake's story as well, since he was kidnapped and taken by force as an adult, he offers a different perspective."

"Makes sense." I looked to Drake. He nodded.

Brad balanced a yellow legal pad scribbled with notes on one knee and his laptop on the other. "What's the first memory you have of your childhood, Sam?"

Drake's body pressed into me, or I into him, I couldn't tell, as I thought back to my earlier years. "I don't know if this is my first memory or not, but I was young, four or five-years-old, and my teacher was asking me a question."

"Hello Sam, what are you drawing?" Mrs. Rosewood asked.

"It's a mommy and a daddy with a little girl," I answered.

"Are you the little girl?"

"No. I don't have a mommy and daddy."

"That's because you are a very special little girl, with very special gifts." ~'so awful that these kids are taken so young… no family… alone… breaks my heart…'~

I touched her hand. "Don't let your heart break, Mrs. Rosewood, I'm okay. I'm not alone. I have you."

"Sam, did you just read my mind?" Mrs. Rosewood pulled her hand away.

"I don't know what that means. You said it was awful, that I was alone and your heart was breaking. Don't be sad. I'm not."

"Mrs. Rosewood rushed out of the room and the next day I was moved to a different class. Looking back, I don't understand. I was already at Rent-A-Kid. That's what we called it. And they knew what I was, that I could read minds. I guess this teacher just wasn't prepared for it. It freaked her out. After that, I stopped responding to people's thoughts. I learned to tell the difference."

Brad nodded without looking up, his fingers flying over the keyboard.

"No wonder you and Drake bonded. He's had similar experiences."

Catching Drake's eye, I smiled and blew a kiss at him. He leaned down to make it real.

"Get a room guys."

"We had one. You interrupted," Drake said without looking at Brad.

"After the interview!"

We pulled away from each other slightly and put our focus back on Brad.

"You can read minds, and you just recently learned to control minds. Which power do you like best or find more useful?"

"I don't like using the mind control, but reading minds isn't as fun as it sounds either." Drake tensed next to me but I refused to acknowledge the discomfort inherent in this topic.

"Why don't you like being able to control minds? I think everyone would want that power."

"It makes me feel… dirty. When… " I looked at Drake, then looked away. "When it was done to me, I realized how it felt to be in that position of powerlessness. I'd never want to make anyone feel that way."

Brad picked up on the hollowness of my voice. He looked at me, then Drake, then cleared his throat.

"Okay, umm…What are some of your friend's para-powers?"

Should I talk about my friends? I guess it makes sense to tell everything, that's why we're doing this, right? "My best friend, Lucy, can always tell if someone is lying. She's a pain in the butt to be around sometimes."

Brad laughed. "I can't imagine what that's like."

I threw a couch pillow at him. "Her twin, Luke, is also my best friend. He walks through walls, or anything solid. There are teens and kids with all kinds of powers. Super strength and mind control like Drake. Fire starting. The ability to freeze things. Seduction."

Brad's eyes perked up. "Seduction, huh? Is this a sexy girl, by chance?"

"You are such a man. Yes, she's sexy. No, you can't date her. She's a bitch."

"Ok, what else?"

"Hmm… teleporting, floating in the air, levitation… just about anything you can imagine."

"What's the worst thing you ever had to do for them?"

Five years of assignments—of spying on people with my 'gift'—flooded my mind. The worst thing? How do you pick out the worst from a sea of awful?

[image error]Chapter 2 – Lucy

"Tell me more about her friends. Who did she hang out with? Who would she contact on the outside for help?"

Lucy crossed her arms over her chest and glared at the large man in black. Such a stereotype, like he'd just walked off the set of "Men in Black." "I've told you everything I know. Sam didn't know anyone on the outside. None of us do. How would we? As for her friends… we were it. And really only out of pity. She was a total loner. We felt sorry for her."

Mr. Black—not his real name—stood up and towered over her. Probably going for the intimidating look. Lucy didn't flinch. "Look smart ass. I've got a guy in there with your brother. I may not have super powers like you freaks, but I will find out if you're lying."

"Luke will tell you the same thing. We hung out with her once in awhile, to make her feel better. Yeah, she was our friend, but we didn't know she was planning on escaping. I thought she was in New York. Why wasn't she in New York, by the way? Why did she need to escape at all?"

The man, a new grunt at Rent-A-Kid, now head grunt apparently, shuffled his feat imperceptibly. Lucy waited for him to answer, to say anything, so she could detect his lies.

His voice hovered on the brink of a scream. "I'm asking the questions here, not you. I need to know who her outside contact is. She must have one, to have gotten so far without a trace. Tell me now!"

Lucy growled in frustration. He had to actually answer a question for her para-power to work. Either he knew that and avoided giving her what she needed, or he was just a pain in the ass naturally. She suspected both. "You can yell at me all you want, Mr. Black. I can't tell you what I don't know. Would you rather I make something up just to get you off my back?"

Behind her, a door opened and closed. Mr. Black looked over Lucy's head at whoever had entered. Lucy turned her head for a better view. Ah, the man who had been sent to interrogate Luke. The creased brow, sweaty pits and frown made Lucy fight back a laugh. Guess he had as much luck with her twin as Mr. Black had with her. Bummer.

The two men stormed out of the room, taking copious amounts of testosterone with them. Lucy leaned back with a tight smile on her lips and twirled her long dark hair through her fingers. She stared at the blank wall in front of her, unsurprised when Luke walked through it.

"That was fun!" His grin, so boyish and sweet, reminded her of their childhood, when they still had hope for a better future. Luke switched to their made-up secret language. "Oh cheer up sis, Sam is fine, I'm sure. She'll contact us when she can. She just needs to rest a bit."

"I know. I just miss her like crazy. Her pale little face haunting the halls!"

Luke's head perked up like a puppy. "They're coming. Catch ya on the flip side, sis." He faded back into the wall, leaving Lucy alone in the stale room. But not for long.

Mr. Black and his sidekick came back in, looking not at all nicer than they had before. Shocker.

He growled at her with the face of a bulldog. "You and your brother have been less than helpful. But we have no choice but to let you go. However, know this—if we find out you are hiding something, or that you know more than you are saying about Sam, it won't end well for either of you. Got it?"

Lucy stood and gave a mock salute. "Yes, Sir. Permission to return to my dorm, Sir."

Mr. Black balled his fists. Lucy knew she should feel fear, but couldn't muster it. The whole world had gone mad and seemed more like a dream than reality. How could she be scared of a dream? Side-kick stepped between them and not-too-roughly ushered her out before it got ugly—or uglier.

Luke waited in the hall for her in the office building that had been cleared out of all warmth and taste and replaced by a tacky military-like set-up to house the new grunts. So. Many. New. Grunts. It looked like an old G.I. Joe board game had thrown up on their campus and grown men had turned into war-playing boys.

Lucy ran her hand over the chrome desks as they walked out, thinking back to the rich mahogany wood that had once been there. Why take out all the nice furniture? They could've at least pretended to fit in. She had a theory that they needed this set-up to convince themselves they were real men doing a real job. Yeah, cuz holding guns on a school full of kids and teenagers was so brave.

A guard at the door let them out of the building, and bright sunlight blinded her. Two hours of interrogations was two hours too long!

Luke slung his arm over her. "You hungry?"

"Starved!"

They walked the winding paths to The Hub, a place that had once, not so long ago, been festive and fun. All the shops still remained open for business, but with armed guards lining the cobbled sidewalks it somehow lost its charm. Still, they needed food and the cafeteria had closed about halfway into their little chat with the men in black.

A bell jingled as they walked into Café Amour (a very ironic name given the very UN-loving environment they were being forced to endure) and took a seat by the window.

"So, did you catch him in any lies?" Luke asked.

They had been speaking in their made up language more in the last week than in their entire lives combined, it seemed.

"No. He didn't offer any information, so he could avoid lying probably."

"Luce, you could've asked him a question and watched for signs. You should be a natural, like in that show 'Lie To Me.'"

A skinny blond waitress came over to take their order. All the regular staff had been mysteriously replaced by new, boring people.

She closed the menu she'd been holding without looking in it. "Hot turkey sandwich with mashed potatoes and a Coke please."

"And I'll have—"

The blond interrupted him. "Sorry, we don't have hot turkey sandwiches anymore—or Coke. Read the new menu."

Luke and Lucy both opened their menus back up, actually reading them for the first time in about a year.

Everything had been crossed out. In sharpie marker at the bottom there were three items listed.

Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwich $7.99

Cold Turkey Sandwich $9.99

Bottled Water $3.99

Lucy glared at the girl. "What the hell kind of crap is this? You're overcharging us for this?"

She backed away and raised her hands in surrender. "Don't blame me. Talk to the people in charge. We can only serve what they give us."

Lucy and Luke shared a glance, then got up as one and walked out, slamming the door behind them.

Lucy's pace quickened into an angry run. "I can't believe this crap, what the hell is going on here?"

Luke kept easy pace beside her. "I don't know, but things are going from bad to worse around here. Whatever trouble Sam and Drake caused by escaping, I think it's just the beginning."

The headmaster's offices still held the regal majesty of old world style and grace, despite the slew of guards hovering around the main entrance like bored flies.

The head fly stepped forward when they approached.

"State your business."

Lucy slowed her breathing enough to scowl at the man. "You've got to be kidding me. We need to speak the headmaster. Duh." She gestured at the building.

"He's not available."

Luke flexed his muscles and stepped forward, trying to look scary and badass, she assumed. "He has an open door policy. He can't be unavailable."

"What is the nature of your request?" asked the drone in black.

Why so much black? Like guards gone goth around here. Ugh. "I'm hungry," Lucy said, pushing her petite frame into his personal space. "And the food here has turned to shit. Overpriced shit at that. We need to talk to the Headmaster now."

"All administrative and campus related questions can now go through the new headquarters."

Lucy frowned. "You mean that sorry excuse for a bunker with all the men in black drones? No way." Had Higgins become someone's puppet?

Speak of the devil. The headmaster himself walked by, catching Lucy's eye as he did.

She shoved the guard aside, who stumbled in surprise. "What's going on, Headmaster? Why can't we talk to you? Why the food change and all the guards?"

The headmaster fidgeted with his briefcase. His normally impeccably tailored suite wrinkled and frumpy and his dark skin showed signs of stress.

"I can't talk about it Lucy, I'm sorry." He wasn't lying. Whatever he meant by "can't" was at least truth to him.

"Just do what they say." With that, he walked away, leaving Lucy surrounded by angry guards.

Luke dragged her out and steered her to their dorm room. "Well?"

"He's not lying. And he's in trouble. Something really bad is happening here."

A loudspeaker interrupted them. "ATTENTION STUDENTS. NEW CURFEW IS NOW 9 P.M. BE IN YOUR DORMS BY 9 P.M."

Luke stared at the sky, like the man behind the voice would magically appear there. "That was succinct and to the point."

"Yeah. Let's get out of here. We need to start thinking of a plan. I have a bad feeling about all this."

The twins shared a suite on the floor lovingly referred to as the Creepy Crawly Ward. They'd just made it to their room when one of the younger students, a freshman, approached them.

Lucy couldn't remember his name, or his para-power, but like all the Rent-A-Kids, she did recognize him from around campus.

"Luke, Lucy, I'm glad I caught you. Can I talk to you in your room?"

Luke raised an eyebrow. Lucy shrugged. They opened their door and let the boy in. Luke flopped into a recliner in their shared common room. "What's up?"

The boy stood in the middle of the modest room, twitching like a bug had crawled up his pants. Lucy leaned against the couch, but didn't sit down. Her stomach grumbled loudly enough for the whole room to hear, reminding her of her unsatiated hunger.

The boy spoke to the floor. "Umm… well… a few of us were wondering… since, like, you were, like, best friends with Sam… you know—the girl who escaped—that maybe you'd like to join us in a Freedom Fighter meeting tonight." Only after he'd gotten all those painful words out did he finally attempt eye contact, albeit briefly.

Luke's face hardened and he shot Lucy a warning look. She nodded. Best play it safe. "What's the Freedom Fighters?"

His voice dropped to a barely perceptible whisper. "A group of students are coming together to, you know, fight back. And… escape."

The last word floated on the air so gently, Lucy wasn't sure if she'd really even heard it or if she's only imagined it. Escape? How could they possibly escape with this much heightened security? If it was impossible before Sam and Drake got away, it was even more so now. No, they weren't stupid enough to get involved in something that crazy. It would be suicide.

The boy's brown eyes turned into saucers, pleading with Lucy. "Will you at least come to the meeting and see what it's about?"

She looked at Luke, whose face had an odd expression of rage and mania. Did he want to do this? Not happening. No way, no how. She crossed her arms and held her ground.

Which was why she was so surprised when she found herself siting in the middle of a group of protestors planning their great escape. Suicide mission indeed.

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Correction: Launch date is mid-November