Psych Investigation Episodes: Episode II

By Kevin Weinberg

Jack Harris wanted to kick back and enjoy his summer--but instead he's being shipped off to boot camp against his will.

After a new band of crazies launches an attack on him and his team, Jack is sent away to a training camp to find his place in the world of Psychs. Meanwhile, Paro and the team investigate leads on a new band of killers--this one far more lethal and vicious than the last.

If Jack can manage to make it through the rigors of this new camp, he's going to find his world at home in ruins. That is, if he lives long enough to make it back alive.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kevin Weinberg
• Release date: May 15, 2013
• ISBN: 9780989463300

Kevin Weinberg

Author of Questing Sucks! And the Psych Investigation Episodes series.

Book preview

Acknowledgements

My mother and father.

Milena Damnjanović and S.J. Forester—you two were a tremendous help, and this book could not exist without you.

And Maja Jørgensen, for all the support

Prologue: To live for the hunt.

There was no better time than night for an assault. The area was quiet, the traffic clear, and witnesses were scarce. The smells of salt water and fish were powerful, and the sound of seagulls crying out in the night brought tension to the five men of the ops team.

Shou Takeshi tried to clear his mind. He tried to forget the disturbing phone call he’d received from his brother, Kazuo. His little brother was in pain, and Shou burned for him, but there was work to be done. Even in the simplest of hunts, one stray thought could get you and your team killed. Despite this, Shou was unable to erase the sounds of his brother’s weeping from his mind.

Kazuo had never been one for tears, choosing instead to push forward and plow through the pain. Things were different now. His team had abandoned him, leaving him with nothing. Shou had tried to get him a spot on his own ops team, but Kazuo had always held a staunch opposition to the hunt. There’d been more than a few family squabbles between them as a result, and it was something they’d seldom talked about.

Get your head out of the clouds, Shou, Norm, his team leader said. He was an older man, but his grey hair and wrinkled face showed his experience. Listen up, men, and listen well. We’ve got ourselves a two-mark Psych in there. We think he’s a Kinetic. He’s killed both of the investigative teams pursuing him, so don’t screw around.

There was a laugh from the Manipulator next to Shou. He was the new guy, Clyde. Shou didn’t recall his last name.

Freaking carebears, he said. Always getting themselves killed. Ya know what? It serves ’em right. Dying is about the only thing they’re—

An invisible force slammed the man’s face into the concrete. The rest of the team laughed at his misfortune. Their Kinetic, Lucas, was always the roughest on new guys.

Now look here, you, Norm said. I don’t know what ops team you transferred from, but we don’t go around talking like that of any Psych agents, investigative or ops. These were good men and women that died, just trying to do the right thing in the wrong way.

Shou nodded, and so did the other men on the team. Not all ops teams were bloodthirsty animals that took pleasure in slaughtering people. Norm’s team was composed of like-minded individuals. None of them enjoyed the hunt or took any pleasure in their kills. They did what needed to be done: end the lives of people who didn’t deserve to live. They didn’t prolong the pain, and they didn’t taunt their victims.

Clyde had anger in his eyes and a small cut under his lower lip. Shou knew he wouldn’t last more than a few days on the team before being transferred off. They were going through Manipulators faster than they could find them. Shou appreciated the way Norm operated; he didn’t want any bloodthirsty idiots on his team. There weren’t many ops teams like his, but a few did exist.

Marcus, give me a status, please, Norm said.

The young Telepath, Marcus, crouched just ahead of Shou and tilted his head skyward, then closed his eyes. He’s got two with him now. Hmm, I think he’s been recruiting. One’s a Manipulator, and the other’s a Kinetic. Marcus grinned. They’ve got no Path, so this should be an easy job.

Shou relaxed and breathed a sigh. Without a Telepath, the group of Psychs had no chance. Norm didn’t seem convinced, though.

Still, keep your guard up. Even though investigative teams aren’t fully combat-trained like we are, they still shouldn’t have been taken out; no, not even by a two-mark Psych.

Shou grunted. Norm’s words were the truth. Whenever a Psych criminal was exceptionally dangerous, he was given a mark. It was a rare occurrence, and it symbolized the need for caution and swift removal of the target. The man they were hunting had two marks, and Shou wasn’t eager to face him. He wanted to get back to New York City and see his brother. Kazuo needed him, and he wasn’t there for him.

They were in a harbor off the coast of southern Long Island. The floor was messy and covered in fish guts. Just at the other end of the harbor, across a narrow pier, Shou could make out the small packaging factory that had once shipped fresh fish to local restaurants. It had long since been abandoned, and now their targets were taking up residence inside.

Let’s get this over with, Norm said. I’ve had just about as much of this stench as I can handle.

The men all seemed to agree, and after a quick three count, they moved out, rushing through the dark pier. For an old Kinetic, Norm ran almost as fast a Reinforcer, leading them across the narrow pier to the side of the old packaging building. It was covered in grime and smelled like the rest of the place.

Norm signaled. Shou, we’re going loud. Break through the side wall. I want you in first and leading the charge. Marcus, you need to keep him protected from that Manip, and keep the Kinetics from knocking him down. What’s your read on the two he’s with?

Marcus tilted his head to the sky and answered in an instant. They’re weak, nothing like our target.

Norm nodded. All right, we’ll take them out first. It’ll make our lives easier. Clyde, they’ve got no Path, so I expect you’ll make short work of them. I hope to be done and out of here within five minutes. Is everyone ready?

Ready, Shou answered.

Yes, sir, Marcus said with a salute.

I’ll try not to enjoy this, honestly, Clyde added with a grin.

One. Two. Three. And breach!

With might only a Reinforcer could command, Shou drew power into his right fist and then smashed it through the wall, ripping out an entire section. He ran inside, followed closely by his team. Marcus was the only one carrying a weapon. Only a few Telepaths trained themselves in offense, while most others focused on support.

Shou ran to the center of the packaging building. There were metal girders everywhere as well as automated assembly lines stained with fish blood. The stench was nauseating. Shou wondered if he’d ever be able to eat fish again after spending just a few minutes in the place.

Where are they? Norm asked.

Marcus closed his eyes and looked around. We should be . . . standing right on top of them. Is there a lower floor to this place?

Norm winked at Shou. Well, Shou said, there’s one way to find out. Shou slammed his fist into the old flooring, making a crackling sound as it destroyed the floorboards beneath him. Looking into the newly created hole, he could see three men, almost ten feet below him in a wide room with beds, a refrigerator, and racks filled with weapons.

The one in the middle looked up at him and smiled. Shou felt the fear immediately. Without a doubt, he was the man they’d been looking for. He was tall, just over six feet, with black hair and dark blue eyes. That wasn’t what made him unsettling, though. The man had two circular scars surrounding each one of his eyes, and his forehead had a vivid tattoo of a raven swooping down on a mouse.

B-boss! one of his men shouted. More of those guys are here.

Shou wasted no time. He leaped down, falling the ten feet. He interlocked his fingers and raised his hands above his head. When he landed, he crashed them down on the face of one of the men—probably the Kinetic—standing nearest to the target. The man’s skull was crushed, and his head cracked like a melon. Shou gained no pleasure from the brutal act, but at least the man’s death was instantaneous.

The other one—the Manipulator—backed up and turned to look at his companion for help. Unfortunately for him, the two-mark Psych only stood there and laughed. There was a loud crack of gunfire, followed by a quick flash of light. The Manipulator’s head was snapped back as a bullet penetrated his brain. Marcus was an excellent shot.

Two down, Shou thought.

One after the other, the members of Shou’s ops team leapt down into the room below and surrounded their target, who despite being outnumbered didn’t appear overly concerned. The two-mark Psych looked down at his fallen men. Worthless, he muttered.

Time to die, buddy, Clyde teased. You’re about to—

Shut it! Norm snapped, clasping his hand over Clyde’s mouth. We don’t tease, and we don’t taunt; we do our job, and this is the last time I’m gonna tell you that.

As if growing impatient, their target spoke. His voice was powerful. It was a low, rumbling sound, with a scratching edge.

If I said I was expecting you gentlemen, he asked with a twisted, crooked smile, would that be too cliché?

Clyde, Shou, end this, Norm commanded.

Clyde extended his hand, the pleasure unmistakable on his face; he really wouldn’t last more than a few days with the team. While Clyde prepared his Manipulation, Shou bolted forward and threw a punch at the target’s face, with enough force to kill. Oddly, the man didn’t move; instead, his eerie smile widened.

At the last possible moment, faster than the eye could follow, the target ducked. Shou’s fist missed him by a centimeter. The target countered, jabbing Shou in the right side of his body. At first Shou wanted to laugh. After all, what business did a Kinetic have attacking a Reinforcer? Was the idiot trying to break his arm?

Then the pain hit, and Shou was thrown off his feet, clutching the right side of his body. He heard the sound of his own ribs breaking while he rolled on the floor in agony.

How? How is this possible?

Shou fought through the pain, and through squinting eyes, he saw a similar expression of confusion on Clyde’s face. A puff of smoke appeared almost a foot in front of the target, which meant Clyde’s Manipulation was being counteracted by telepathy.

W-what’s going on? Clyde whispered.

Think about it later! shouted Lucas. Norm, I’ve got your back.

Indeed, Norm said. Hit him with everything you got.

Norm and Lucas, wasting no time on questions, picked up boxes, food, knives, and just about everything around the room. Then they launched it all at the target.

Yet still the target did not move. He rubbed his left hand over his right, a gesture of washing hands, and all at once, the objects flying around the room halted midair and fell lifelessly to the ground.

Shou was the first to call it out, the first to come to the horrifying realization. He’s an Unrestricted! We need to leave, now!

The target looked down at him where he lay wounded on the dusty floor. The circular scars surrounding the target’s eyes caused Shou to tremble.

They always shout the same thing, right before they die, he said. Yet, it never gets old hearing it.

The man rubbed his hands together, and a puff of smoke appeared a foot from Clyde’s face, much like the one still in front of his own.

He’s using Manipulation! Clyde called out.

The target looked around the room. Hmm, it seems your Telepath is ruining my fun. It’s that one isn’t it? He pointed at Marcus.

Marcus darted his head around in confusion; it was the last thing he ever did. The man rubbed his hands together for the third time, and the refrigerator in the back of the room lifted off the ground, flying into Marcus and crushing him. Shou swore under his breath. He hoped his friend’s death was painless.

Despite how quickly things were falling apart, Norm didn’t seem to be afraid, Shou wondered if the man was even capable of feeling fear. But he did sigh as he looked at Marcus’s corpse. They were like brothers, the four of them, and Marcus would be deeply missed.

With their Telepath dead, Clyde whimpered in fear. He obviously knew what Marcus’s death meant: without anyone to shield him from Manipulation, he was vulnerable.

Clyde screamed, clutching at his face while his skin melted right off the bone. His death was gruesome, as were all the killings done by a Manipulator. Without a Telepath present, Manipulators were gods among mortals.

Shou tried to stand up, but the man had hit him hard enough to shatter most of his ribs. Norm and Lucas looked briefly at each other and then doubled their efforts. Around the room, more objects were sent flying at the man, each one falling to the ground well before making impact.

The target charged at Lucas. He brought up his foot and delivered a powerful kick, snapping the poor Kinetic’s neck. Lucas twitched once before falling to the floor.

Are you the leader of these men? the target asked Norm.

I am, Norm said.

Would you like to beg for your life now? It’s okay, I’ll wait.

Norm spat at the target. I never beg. Just end it.

The target shrugged. Well, if you say so.

What happened next was the single most horrifying thing Shou had ever seen. In the most incredible display of Telekinesis Shou could imagine, the man rubbed his hands together, and Norm’s head, as if nothing more than the head of an action figure, popped clean off his body. Then it landed on the floor next to his still-standing torso. The body twitched before falling on the floor while blood sprayed from the neck.

Shou cried, tears streaking down his face. He wondered how any of this could be real.

You look afraid, the target told him. Well, you ain’t seen nothing yet. He raised his voice. Hey, anyone want a piece of this? I left one of them alive.

Several men and women, both young and old, seemed to appear out of nowhere. Looking around, Shou could see there were several doors in the darker corners of the room.

How did Marcus not detect them?

A young woman and an older male sauntered over to him. The woman sniffed the air, then looked around the room in disgust. There was sadness in her eyes, and she shook her head when she took in Norm’s headless corpse. She was beautiful, with fiery red hair and sparkling blue eyes. She stood next to an attractive, middle-aged man, who seemed vaguely familiar.

Oh, Sebastian, sweetheart, darling, why do these people keep showing up here every week to die?

Now, now, he said. Are you sure you want to be watching this, Requiem?

The girl shrugged. I’ve seen much worse.

The target stepped between the two. He laughed. Hey, don’t tell me neither of you want the kill. Sebastian, you and your stepdaughter rarely kill anything. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you both don’t enjoy it.

You already know we don’t, Sebastian said. My stepdaughter and I are here for the money and the money alone. You never said we had to do anything except our jobs when we agreed to work for you, Cyrus.

So that’s his name, Shou thought with a grunt. No one—to Shou’s knowledge—had ever been able to obtain the man’s name, content to simply call him Target 90-B or the target whenever they referred to him.

It reeks in this place, darling, the woman said. How much longer must we stay here?

Until Cyrus tells us to move, sweetie.

Cyrus, laughed at the two. You guys crack me up, you know that? He cleared his throat and raised his voice, addressing the others now appearing in the room. Anyone else want the kill?

There were several volunteers, enough to replace Shou‘s fear with confusion.

How can there be this many criminal Psychs? There’s got to be at least fifty in here.

Please, Shou begged. My brother, Kazuo, he needs me. Please, let me leave, and I promise I won’t say a word to anyone.

Cyrus broke into laughs even before Shou had finished speaking. "Yeah, because that’s really something I’d consider."

Another woman approached. She was a small girl with a ghost-pale face that reminded Shou of death. Can I kill him? she asked. I’d like to tear him up piece by piece. She chortled. I’ve been developing several new methods of torture.

Cyrus patted her on the back. Go ahead, Clair. Tear away.

Shou trembled, realizing he was the most unlucky one on his team. Their deaths were at least quick, but his would be slow and agonizing.

Wait! the man named Sebastian shouted. On second thought, I’ve decided I’d like to take this kill after all. You owe me one, don’t you, Cyrus?

The tiny girl pouted and made a sour face. But you said you didn’t want it!

Yeah, well, now I do.

Let him have it, Cyrus said. Poor guy and his daughter never get to have any fun. Come on, Clair, I’ll show you my coin collection.

Shou looked with pleading eyes into the face of the man who would kill him. Please, he begged.

I’m sorry, Sebastian said. Really, I am. He looked behind him, to where Cyrus and the small girl were walking away, now out of earshot.

I’ll make this very quick, and you won’t feel a thing.

The one called Requiem, who stood next to him, frowned. Darling, if my angel ever found out his father had done something like this, I don’t think he’d be very happy.

The man gave her an awkward stare. You’re still calling him ‘your angel?’ Jeez, you don’t know how ridiculous you sound. Why would Jack come to learn anything about this? I’d rather kill this man myself than have him tortured by animals.

Still, she said. I really don’t think Jack would be happy if he found out.

I’d like to think he’d understand, Sebastian said. Though, sometimes I think he’s too stupid to think very deeply on things.

The girl slapped him, hard, across the face. Never call my angel stupid! You horse-faced idiot!

The man rubbed his cheek. Yesterday I was a raccoon, today I’m a horse, you and your animal insults, Requiem. He turned to Shou and his face turned serious. I’m sorry, I’m prolonging this, and it’s cruel. Close your eyes and think of something pleasant. I promise you there will be no pain.

Shou closed his eyes, which stung from his tears. Is this really the end? Am I really going to die here? Will my—

The world gave way to darkness.

Chapter 1: What did I do?

There was a scream, followed by a cry for help.

There comes a point in life when all hope is lost, when it’s time to throw the towel in and accept fate. That time had arrived, and as the darkness closed in on him, gripping him in an overwhelming sense of impending doom, Jack screamed even louder.

All right, you know what? Adam said. I have to ask, and if for nothing else than my own sanity. Jack, why did you put a pumpkin on your head? No, better yet, where did you even find a pumpkin, and why did you bring it to school?

Jack’s voice was muffled, his entire face trapped inside of the pumpkin. It was dark and smelled inside . . . like a pumpkin, which for some reason came as a surprise.

Because, Adam, Melissa is angry with me over something and I don’t have any idea what it is. I wanted to bring her roses to apologize.

Adam sighed. So I’ll ask you again: why are you standing in the middle of a bathroom with your head stuck in a pumpkin?

Jack was getting annoyed, and more than a little impatient. He didn’t want to answer all of these questions, but he knew Adam wouldn’t help without the full explanation.

Because, I didn’t know how expensive roses were. They were way out of my price range.

So . . . you bought Melissa a pumpkin instead? You know what, fine, whatever, in your world maybe that makes perfect sense. But why is it on your head?

Jack felt embarrassment spread over him, knowing he’d need to be honest with Adam. "Well, I was watching The Nightmare before Christmas last night, and I got this really cool idea that I wanted to look like Skeleton Jack. Get it? Because my name is Jack, and so—"

Yes, dammit, I get it, Adam interrupted.

Jack tried again to tear the thing off his head, but he was sealed too tightly inside it. The darkness wasn’t even the worst part, although it came close. The worst was the slimy, slippery feeling inside of the air-constricting pumpkin. Get it off! Jack yelled. It’s killing me!

Will you stop acting like such a baby? You’re not going to die to a pumpkin. Just . . . I mean, I don’t even know what to say here, Jack. This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen, even from you. Hold still, all right? Maybe if we both kind of, you know, pull it up at the same time? Here, try this.

Together they pulled on the pumpkin, Jack prying at it with all of his might. There was a pain in his neck, the pumpkin protesting its removal, until finally, with a loud pop, the cursed object was ripped from his head. Jack was sweating, and he looked down at the thing in awe. He shook his head like a dog drying itself off, sending bits of pumpkin all around the bathroom. Adam frowned at Jack as bits of pumpkin hit him and clung to his shirt.

You’re an idiot, he muttered.

Well, at least we know something important now, Jack said. "There’s a positive side to this: now we know why it’s not a good idea to use pumpkins this way."

There are so many things wrong with what you just said that I’m not even going to bother pointing them out. Come on, we’ll be late for math. And please, Jack, throw that damned thing out.

Jack followed Adam out of the bathroom and into the crowded third-floor hallway of Elms high. It was a scalding hot day, and the school lacked any kind of air conditioning. All around, students were sweating while they shuffled through the overcrowded hallways and on to their next classes. It was the last week of school before summer vacation, something that had Jack riled up and excited. Finally, there would be a vacation from the hell that was school.

It had been two weeks since the incident in Staten Island, and as Jack walked through the hallway with Adam, his mind once again wandered, trying to remember what he could’ve done to upset Melissa. The team hadn’t bothered him since the ordeal, giving Jack the most freedom he’d had in a while.

After General Moore had taken Jack home, he was told that his team was being given some time off to rest and recover. At first, Jack was thrilled to hear this. He planned on spending some time with Melissa and maybe even going out on that date she owed him. Unfortunately nothing was happening as planned.

Melissa wanted nothing to do with him. She didn’t answer his calls, she didn’t speak to him, and when Jack texted her and reminded her of their deal, she told him that the deal was off and that he should go to hell. Jack had no idea what he could have done to her. Was it because he’d told her he liked the older Star Trek movies more than the newer ones?

No, that couldn’t be it. Melissa doesn’t like any of those movies to begin with.

Then, he wondered if it was because he kissed Sandra, the girl known as Requiem. No, that couldn’t be it either, because right after that happened I asked her if she was angry about it, and she said, ‘No, why would I care? You can do whatever you want, Jack. Don’t let me stop you. I’m not angry at all. In fact, you can go out and kiss all the crazy murderous skanks in the world for all I care.’ Yeah, so there’s no way she’s mad at me for that. Damn, what could it be? Why are women so mysterious?

People pushed and prodded through the tight hallway, the excessive number of bodies adding even more heat to the already unbearable third floor. Jack’s hair was more of a mess than usual, wet from the pumpkin and now dripping with sweat. His shirt was damp too.

Jack, where are you going?

Jack looked behind him, realizing he’d walked past the class. Sorry, I was thinking about something. Jack spun around and walked back towards Adam, trying to think of some reason for Melissa’s behavior. He entered the new classroom, built after Jack’s—accidental—destruction of the older one, something he still didn’t remember doing.

Most of the class was already seated, the bell only moments from ringing. Jack and Adam took their seats in the middle of the class, removing their books and preparing for the lesson. From the moment Jack entered, the entire class focused their attention on him, whispering and pointing fingers. Melissa, for almost an entire week, had followed Jack around, never leaving his side and protecting him from the two Psychs who’d been pursuing him.

It was something the students of Elms high could only take one way: Jack and Melissa had been two of a kind, inseparable, and madly in love. Melissa hadn’t bothered to deny it at the time, because she’d been too busy trying to watch her surroundings.

If anything could be said about the students of Jack’s school, it was that they were an observant bunch. They took notice of the way Melissa avoided Jack now; whispers followed him wherever he went. If that wasn’t enough, the other boys were moving in to try to date her; word was quickly spreading that Melissa Sayre was once again available.

I think he cheated on her, Trish. Jessie told me so, a girl whispered from behind Jack. He moaned, wondering where all these rumors were coming from. Didn’t they know he could hear them?

No—way! I heard the same thing. Do you know what I heard today in English class? her friend whispered back. They’re saying Jack Harris is a sexual animal, and that he was seeing four other girls at the same time he was seeing Melissa. And that—

Jack covered his ears, wondering why life always went from bad to worse. The bullying had gotten worse, too, because now the bullies were jealous in addition to whatever other reasons they had to pick on Jack. Even though it only lasted a week, they were still agonized by the thought of a loser like Jack dating Melissa in the first place. He tried to tell them it wasn’t true, and that they were only friends, but no one seemed to believe him. Well, no one except Adam.

Jack still hadn’t told Adam about everything that’d happened. He had planned to, had almost looked forward to it. These days, he realized more fully the need for secrecy. It was a dangerous world Jack lived in now, one that he didn’t want Adam to be a part of.

Jack heard the click of feet against the marble floor, and he turned to look at the gorgeous blonde approaching his desk. Hey there, Jack, she said. What’s up?

Ever since he started associating with someone as popular as Melissa, out of nowhere, girls were starting to talk to him. The bullying didn’t stop from the guys, but on the other end of the playing field, things were going pretty well.

Oh, hey, Barbara. Umm, nothing much. How about you?

She was pretty, though to Jack no one was as pretty as Melissa, except maybe Sandra. Barbara had a few cute freckles and a tiny pair of silver glasses that made her even more attractive. She looked both smart and sexy, and at one point in time, Jack would’ve passed out just by speaking with her. These days, he only had eyes for Melissa. She was the girl of his dreams. Well, sometimes Sandra, too. He had no idea why, but he was caught between the two of them in a bad way.

All he could think about was Melissa and Sandra, and his mind wouldn’t let him pick only one. A thought occurred to him.

Maybe that’s why Melissa is mad at me? Maybe she thinks I like Sandra?

Jack tossed the idea from his mind and discarded it in his mental trash bin. Melissa didn’t like him that way; it was the simple truth. Jack tried so many times—almost always humiliating himself—to show her how much he cared for her. Each time she shrugged it off or teased him about it. Sandra, on the other hand, looked at him in a way that set a fire off in his belly.

Just remembering the night he saved her made sweat pour off his face like a running faucet. The way he held her in his arms, the way she’d gazed up at him with a look so filled with love and gratitude. Jack couldn’t get the memory out of his mind.

I need to go check on her.

Deven had assured Jack that she’d be kept out of the facilities and that she’d be taken care of. Jack wanted to see for himself, and with a silent nod, he promised himself he’d go looking for her the first chance he had.

I’m good, Barbara said. Hmm, have you been working out, Jack?

Umm, not really, Jack answered. Melissa was watching the exchange, and she gave him an evil, dark look.

Now what is it? Jack wondered. Oh, I know! She’s angry because she’s worried I might tell Barbara something about Psychs. That’s why she gives me an angry look every time I talk to girls. She thinks I’ll spill out our secrets. She should really trust me more.

Jack winked at Melissa, then pointed to Barbara, nodding his head, a gesture he hoped would tell her everything was fine. She seemed to grow angrier, her face contorting into a full on scowl.

Man, I have no idea what’s going on. Why is she so mad at me?

Class is going to start soon, Jack, Barbara said. "I need to get back to my seat. Hey, maybe you could show me how to play those card games you and Adam are always up to. They look so fun."

"Whoa, really! I’d love to teach you how to play Magic the Gathering. Jeez, last year you laughed at me whenever I played that game. Jack sighed. I guess in the end no one can resist the draw of the Plainswalker!"

Ahh, yeah . . . that’s it. Talk to you later. She blew him a kiss in the air and walked away. Jack tried not to blush.

The classroom door opened and Mr. Munson entered, wearing a top hat and a pair of slacks. What time is it! he called out, sliding into the room like a performer.

As usual, only the math geeks in the front, and Melissa in the middle, called out the answer. Math time!

The teacher reached into his bag and removed a sheet of paper and began taking the day’s attendance.

Emily Carnell, Mr. Munson called, reading names off the sheet.

Here! a cheerful voice replied.

Jack filtered out Mr. Munson’s voice and entered a state of deep thought, thinking of some way he could get back on Melissa’s good side. He realized that he only had one option: he’d have to try to ask Melissa yet again what he’d done wrong, and hope that this time she’d tell him.

No matter how much he wished otherwise, Melissa would never like him as anything more than a friend, but he wanted to at least remain that. The fact that she wasn’t speaking to him wasn’t even the worst part: he still had to see her every day. Lately, Melissa had been coming over his house more and more often. She’d have tea and discuss stupid, girly, boring things with his mom while the repairmen fixed up their wrecked home.

Every time Jack entered the room to get a drink or a snack, both Melissa and his mother would glare at him and halt their conversation until he left. His mother usually looked amused, as if she was forcing the glare for Melissa’s sake, but it didn’t make Jack feel any better.

Jack Harris.

Jack was still deep in thought; he felt a sudden panic at hearing his name called out loud.

Whatever it is I didn’t do it! he yelled.

The entire class burst into laughter, and Jack felt his face flush with embarrassment. Everyone already thought he was an idiot, and now he was once again proving them right.

I am an idiot, he thought with a frown. Even Melissa’s laughing at me now.

Didn’t do what, Mr. Harris? This is attendance. Just say ‘here’ or ‘present’, will ya? I see someone has a guilty conscience. Oh, and by the way, Mr. Harris, nice job finally passing a test for once. I don’t know how you did it, but everyone give the kid a round of applause. Mr. Harris scored a whopping seventy-one on the last test!

Jack was further humiliated as the class broke out into a round of applause. At least he wouldn’t have to go to summer school. Finally, he would have a summer all to himself, assuming Paro didn’t drag him on any more ridiculous cases. Melissa’s tutoring had really paid off.

Mr. Munson lectured until the bell rang, as he always did. He didn’t believe in letting the students go early. Jack waited for Melissa to leave, before bolting out of the room and following after her. She didn’t look behind her when she spoke, and Jack had to strain to hear her over the hum of voices from the hundreds of students scrambling to their next class.

"What do you want?" she asked, her voice passive and uncaring.

Melissa, please, can you at least tell me what I did wrong? You’ve been ignoring me for weeks, and I don’t even know why. I just wanna talk.

Melissa stopped short and spun around on him. It was so fast that Jack almost bumped into her. She had a look of disgust on her otherwise beautiful face, several strands of her golden hair falling over her eyes.

Oh! she shouted. That’s surprising.

Jack gulped. What is?

Oh, you know. That Jack Harris wants to speak to someone like me. After all, I thought you only liked to talk to girls that go around murdering people.

Jack scratched his head. He had no idea what Melissa was talking about. Wait, what?

Well, let’s see. I guess if I went around ripping people’s hearts out, we’d have more to talk about, wouldn’t we? Go away, Jack. I’ve got nothing to say to you.

Jack rubbed his eyes, trying to make some sense of it all. He gasped as a thought came to him. Wait a minute. Could it . . . could it be she was lying when she said she didn’t care about me and Sandra? Is something like that even possible?

Jack chose his words carefully. He knew that right now, more than anything else, he needed to be tactful. He had to make absolute sure that he didn’t slip up and say something that would only make Melissa angrier. Jack knew exactly what to say; he was learning more and more about the way women thought. Jack grinned, sure that what he was about to say would make everything better.

Melissa, are you jealous?

As a red handprint formed on his face, and Melissa stomped away, Jack realized he’d made yet another mistake. I need to call Michael, he said aloud. This has officially gotten out of control.

Jack didn’t realize that Adam was behind him until he felt his friend’s arm on his shoulder. Jack, he said. Maybe you shouldn’t speak to her from now on without memorizing a script. I saw all of that, and it was just awful. What were you thinking?

Jack shrugged. I don’t even know. But I’m not giving up, though. I’ll make her like me again, even if it’s just as a friend.

As Jack walked with Adam through the boiling hallway to their next class, Jack hoped he’d find a way to make Melissa forgive him.

Even though I didn’t do anything! he reminded himself.

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Sebastian checked both ends of the dark hallway before closing the door behind him. The girl was sitting on his bed, a massive grin on her face. She was becoming intolerable, bugging him nonstop for days.

Sebastian had spent over a decade trying to locate Cyrus. He’d gone through hell to get closer to the man—and for what? So some love-stricken teenager could ruin it for him? He’d abandoned his family, his wife, his son, and everything that mattered to him.

What is it now? he asked. You should be in your room.

Requiem frowned. I wanted to talk, darling. Besides, my room is too close to the stench. I’ve been smelling fish guts in my dreams.

Sebastian sat on a chair next to the bed and rested his head in his palms. What do you want to know this time?

Requiem’s face lit up with one of her rare, genuine smiles. What is his favorite color?

Sebastian was in awe at the girl. As crazy as it was, he was beginning to believe she was only there to find out more about his son, putting her life at risk to ask foolish questions. It’s blue, I think—hey, can you please get that dog off my bed?

No! she snapped. Mr. Wellington goes wherever he pleases. Isn’t that right? Oh yes it is, she said, kissing its nose. The dog wagged its tail and licked her face.

How did you even find me? Sebastian asked. Do you have any idea how much danger you’ve put your life in by coming here? You just show up out of the blue with a dog and say you’re my stepdaughter. Are you nuts?

It took Sebastian a moment to realize the dampness in his eyes was a result of the girl spitting in his face. He glared at her. What the hell was that for?

Silence! You don’t get to ask me questions. Now, tell me another story about Jack.

Sebastian was quickly growing tired of the girl. The last thing he needed was to be reminded of his family. He’d missed out on most of his son’s life, for a purpose that couldn’t be ignored. Cyrus needed to be stopped, and even if it meant sacrificing everything, Sebastian was willing to do it. Yet, this was the first conversation he’d had about Jack in years, and he couldn’t help but feel a little interested, if not sad.

Can you at least answer one of my questions first?

Requiem nodded. Very well, darling.

What’s he like these days? I can’t imagine he’s any smarter than—don’t give me that look. Okay, fine, let me cut to the chase: is he a Telekinetic like his mom and I?

Requiem’s answer sounded casual and disinterested. Hmm, no, I think he’s an Unrestricted, whatever that is. I didn’t know all the terminology until recently. Okay, my turn now. What is his favorite—

Sebastian leaned forward and grabbed the front of her shirt. Hey! Are you messing with me?

Requiem narrowed her eyes on him, then cast them down to look at his hands gripping the collar of her shirt. The dog growled, and her eyes turned dark. Darling, remove your hands from me this instant.

Sebastian forced himself to release the girl. I’m sorry, but please, can you repeat that? Did you say he’s an Unrestricted?

She shrugged. Yes, I’m pretty sure that’s what it was. Mr. Wellington is sure too.

Sebastian stood up and fell back into his chair. He needed to sit down.

Why? Why did it have to be Jack?

Chapter 2: Serve it cold.

When the bell finally rang, Jack practically leapt out of the classroom. It was free period, his favorite time of the school day. He had three options, though only two seemed promising: go to the library and sleep, go to lunch and eat, or work out in the school’s gymnasium. The last one was out of the question because Jack hated exerting himself. So, it was either A or B.

Melissa will be in the library. She has free period the same time I do. Oh, man, this time I’ll say the right words for sure.

The bell rang a second time, and the hallway quieted down. Students weren’t supposed to roam the halls during free time. The school always wanted them to be somewhere, so Jack hurried along. He walked to the end of the second floor hallway, then descended the grey steps leading down to the first floor.

It wasn’t much cooler here than on the second and third floor, but the library was air conditioned, so it would be good enough. Classes were in session on both sides of the hallway; the sound of impatient teachers escaped the crowded classrooms.

The right side of the hallway housed student lockers, and the left side contained old, dusty walls with open windows on top that did little to expel the hellish heat. The library was just at the end of the hallway.

Something made a loud, banging sound behind him, startling Jack. He spun around and saw a fist being smashed into a locker. Jack’s heart almost stopped. Behind him stood the last four people on Earth he wanted to see.

Yo, Harris, where you think you’re going?

Jack backed up slowly and tried to avoid making eye contact. He really wasn’t in the mood for this today. Hey, Kip, how’s it hanging?

Where you going, Harris? Ain’t got no time for some of ya friends? C’mere, I wanna talk to ya.

Kip looked furious, even more than usual. His three friends surrounded Jack, who tried his best not to whimper. Why did it have to be like this every day? Just once, couldn’t they leave him alone?

Kip was a tall and brutish boy, with shredded black hair and a pointy nose. Jack knew he came from a very wealthy and privileged family, yet for some reason he was among the meanest and cruelest students in Elms high. He made the former Richard Davins seem kind and sweet.

Kip grabbed him by the shirt and slammed him into a locker, pinning him in place. It didn’t hurt much, but the sound it made was more frightening than the actual gesture. Jack tried not to meet Kip’s eyes. He attempted to diffuse the situation.

Hey, umm, Kip, can I go, please? I want to meet someone in the library . . .

Shut your mouth! he shouted. What did I tell ya about speaking without my permission? Jack twitched as Kip slapped him across the face with the palm of his hand. It didn’t hurt as much as Melissa’s slaps, but it was humiliating. Who ya meeting in the library? Don’t tell me it’s Melissa, ’cause that’s the last thing I wanna hear from you, Harris.

Jack gulped. I’m just meeting my friend, that’s all.

Kip shared a distrusting look with his three lackeys. I’ve had my eye on her for a while. He pulled Jack away from the locker and then slammed him back into it, harder this time. There was another crash, and this time Jack felt it. You don’t look at her, and you don’t talk to her. Do you understand me?

Jack felt the first stirrings of anger, but fear kept him from fighting back. I have to see her. There’s some confusing stuff that’s happened, and I can’t just stop speaking to her because you have a problem with—

Jack didn’t realize he’d been hit until he noticed the metallic taste of blood in his mouth. Kip’s fist crashed into the side of his face, cutting him off mid-sentence. Jack’s eyes widened from the unexpected attack. Kip followed it up with another. Jack spat as his stomach exploded in pain, causing him to fall to his knees.

Ya not hearing me, kid? Do you even know what I’m gonna do to you if I even see you looking in her direction?

Jack clutched his stomach and tried to catch his breath. A terrible and sudden sadness crossed over him, a pain that hurt more than anything these four could ever do to him.

Andy, he thought. How far did they drive you? Was this . . . what made you become who you are?

Kip, Jack groaned, trying to stand to his feet. You’ve heard on the news what happened to Richard, right? I know he was a friend of yours. This is why it happened. Because you treat people like this, and you drive them mad.

Kip’s nose curled, and his lips quivered. This time he sent his fist into the spot between Jack’s eyes, knocking him to the floor, on his back. It already hurt this much, and Jack wondered how much worse things were going to get. He was a poor fighter and in poor shape; there was little he could do to stop him.

No. There’s one thing I could do.

Jack pulled the thought from his mind. He’d promised Paro that he’d never use his power in public, especially not for personal reasons. He was tempted, though. The pain was becoming excruciating. Jack’s lips were bleeding, and already he could feel his left eye beginning to swell.

You don’t know what the hell yer talkin’ about! Kip roared at him. Jack cried out in agony, pain spreading over him from every direction. The four of them were kicking him from everywhere at once. Jack covered his face and his groin. He closed his eyes, hoping it would end soon.

I hate you, Kip said, spitting on him. I hate you, you useless piece of trash. You shouldn’t have been born, Harris. You don’t deserve to live.

Jack tried not to cry; he didn’t want to embarrass himself any further. The tears fell anyway, and Jack prayed that it would end soon. How long would they go on hurting him? What had he ever done to any of these people?

Their feet struck at him again and again, hitting his stomach, face, legs, and arms. Jack wailed, the temptation to draw on his power growing to a desperate need. But he’d promised Paro—he promised he’d never do it.

His mind fogged up. Why couldn’t a teacher or a dean walk through the hallway? Jack had terrible luck. The worst was not knowing when it would end, how long it would go on for.

There were voices from the other end of the hallway, and Jack felt a brief moment of hope. Three boys and a girl exited