No Peace for the Damned

bodyguards. Some guy named George Batalkis. The name didn’t ring any bells for me, but that only meant he’d been a public guard and not an estate guard. Still, was I really ready to face someone that close to my past?
    A landscaped median, dotted with gardenias, split the pavement. My pace slowed to a crawl. I’d once worn an entire dress decorated with those damn flowers. The stylist had practically glowed when I stepped into the ballroom. I’d posed for the pictures, nodded when appropriate. I’d never smiled—that had been just impossible—but I’d attended enough Senate functions to know how to play the role well enough. Unfortunately, something had changed that night.
I
had changed. Puberty had struck, and with the gardenia gown fitted so perfectly to my new figure, no guest had been coherent enough to hear what Uncle Max had to say. The stylist’s face flashed in my mind. Shock and pain had brightened her eyes when Uncle Max had garroted her after the party. She had gotten off easy—a quick death for a dress that fit too well. I hadn’t been so lucky. After all, it was
my
fault all the men invited went dumb when I entered the room.
    “zzzz…no traces of forced entry…”
    Was that Charles or Jon?
    “…movement on the north side…hold your position.”
    I dashed into the woods of the next yard. Shane was the first I spotted, crouched low behind a landscaped mound of bushes.He wore all black, his eyes hidden behind dark wraparound shades, his blond hair pulled back in a tight ponytail. His thoughts were sharp, on the moment. The goal was to capture only. Later they would question Batalkis, find out about the Network agents still missing. The black body armor made him look even more muscular than usual.
    I positioned myself next to him. He would hate it if he knew I was this close. I’d glanced inside his mind during one of our training sessions—my face had been all over his thoughts. It killed him that I was living in a house that his family had once owned. His parents had vanished after refusing to sell their land for one of many Kelch Inc. expansions. He’d thought it poetic justice that he gave the three-hundred-plus acres to the Network. Then I’d shown up.
    Whatever. He could keep his scowls.
    The targeted home was five thousand square feet of white brick. The driveway wound its way through the trees before disappearing at the neighborhood’s main road. Secluded, nice—maybe this guy had changed roles, taken on a more lucrative position for my family. Something like kidnapping Network members, perhaps?
    “All clear on north.” Theo’s muffled voice came through Shane’s earpiece. North. I was moving before I even realized it. Jon’s voice over the wire stopped me.
    “Clear on east. Move in.”
    Move in?
Instantly I listened to the home’s interior. Nothing. No movement, no heartbeats or breathing. No one was home. Only the normal house sounds came from inside. That and the steady, almost silent beep of an alarm on the lower level.
    I went in for a closer look. A few feet from the three-car garage, I froze. The air changed. Nothing looked different or smelled different, but a warm mist now hung all around me. The hairs on my arms rose. It felt…familiar.
    My family had been here. And they had used their power; I could feel it.
    A chill started up my legs and spread throughout my body. I’d never realized that our power left a physical presence. But I could sure as hell feel it now. I stepped back. Trickles of warmth drew over my skin, not pulling, just caressing—like leftovers of power used. It almost tickled.
    A quick buzz came from the far side of house. A door clicked. Someone had disabled the alarm and was entering through a side entrance. Cordele. She knew no one was home and was looking for evidence.
    I took another step back. The lingering power brushed against me again and I shuddered. Beep. Beep. Beep. The alarm from the basement quickened. So quiet, I knew their equipment wouldn’t pick it up. But didn’t she just disable the alarm…?
    Oh God
.
    I raced to the front of the house. The front entrance steps were uneven and I tripped on the last step. My hip slammed against a large potted shrub next to the door. Dirt and bush exploded all around me.
Fuck!
I’d have a nasty bruise for about three seconds. With both hands I gripped the door’s handle and yanked the entire thing off its frame. Tossing the door aside, I ran into the foyer.
    Cordele was right there.