New Horizons: A Metahuman Files: Classified Novella, #2

By Hailey Turner

First do no harm and never break a heart.

 

Trevor Sanchez left behind a life of war with Alpha Team for a future in medicine, but he's pulled back into the fight when terrorists target his teaching hospital. Trevor can't stand by and do nothing, especially not when someone's life is in danger. When that life involves a gorgeous, funny paramedic, Trevor knows he's in trouble.

 

Paramedic Brendan Kane never thought rescuing a patient's life would put his own at risk. Being targeted by a terrorist group was never covered in his medical training. When his security detail comes with a former member of Alpha Team, Brendan discovers a silver-lining to the situation. Trevor is hot like fire and oh so sexy, taking up space in Brendan's life in unexpected ways that he's reluctant to give up.

 

Trevor and Brendan must navigate their way through danger and a searing, addictive connection that leaves them both wanting more. If they hope to give the spark burning between them a chance to ignite, they'll have to outlast the enemy first.

 

New Horizons is a companion novella to the Metahuman Files series, an M/M military science fiction fantasy series full of found family themes and spicy romance for fans of Vicious by VE Schwab and Marvel's X-Men and Avengers. It is best enjoyed after In the Requiem.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Hailey Turner
• Release date: Feb 20, 2019
• ISBN: 9798223946014

Book preview

01

Washington, DC

USA

The weather in Washington, DC, in the middle of September was nice—far less muggy than during the height of summer. Trevor Sanchez didn’t mind the heat so much as the humidity, but he hadn’t been able to enjoy being outside during the day for months now.

Nearly every waking hour since the beginning of July had been taken up by the accelerated medical program Trevor had been accepted into at Lafayette University, one of the premiere medical schools in the country. Lafayette Hospital, the university’s main teaching hospital and Level I trauma center, took up the equivalent of two large city blocks near Mt. Vernon Square. It had become his second home over the past couple of months.

Trevor’s goal was to become an emergency room trauma surgeon, but first, he needed to get through his current set of classes without overdosing on synthcaf.

Damn it, Trevor muttered as he shook his thermos and found it empty.

He’d been so engrossed in his reading over the dinner break that he’d forgotten to get a refill before his last lecture. The campus cafeteria was located in the small wing of the teaching hospital behind him, while the lecture started in ten minutes in the main building he was just entering. Trevor didn’t have time to run back for more synthcaf.

Trevor shoved the empty thermos into his backpack that carried his tablet, high-calorie nutrient bars for snacks, and a 9mm handgun biolocked to his prints. Slinging the backpack over one shoulder, Trevor made his way through the building. Classes were held on the top three levels, and the elevator that would take him there was past a security door.

Trevor pressed his palm to the control panel, and the security doors slid open. He headed for the bank of elevators, unsurprised to see a cluster of other medical students waiting for the ride up. A slim woman with dark hair and brown skin looked up from her tablet at his arrival.

Hey, Anika Kaur said. Get your tacos?

It’s Taco Thursday. Of course I did, Trevor said with a smile.

Anika laughed at him. Bottomless pit for a stomach. I think I heard it growling during our Anatomy lab this morning.

Yeah, that was probably me.

Anika dug into her purse and tossed him a protein bar, the kind marketed toward civilians, which meant they tasted better than the ones in his backpack.

Here. To hold you over until our snack stop after the lecture.

Trevor caught the protein bar and laughed. Thanks.

Anika flashed him a thumbs-up as the elevator dinged. She’d been in the accelerated program for a year already, as had everyone else in his future graduating class. Trevor was the anomaly, having tested out of the first year of classes. Making the transition to school had been tough the first couple of weeks. Not many of his classmates had reached out to him, or if they did, it was with an amount of fawning Trevor didn’t care for.

Ever since the terrorist attack on Washington, DC, in April, when Alpha Team had given up their classified identities to stand in solidarity with their captain, Jamie Callahan, getting used to being known was hard. Before being turned into a metahuman, Trevor had been a Recon Marine, which necessitated a certain level of privacy. Once he had followed Jamie to the MDF, their identities had been locked down even more until this past spring.

Trevor never used his telekinesis in front of his classmates, though he’d made an exception for Anika once during a late-night study session at her home while her husband slept. She’d been curious rather than uneasy, a difference from most people that Trevor hadn’t minded showing her his power. These days, Trevor considered Anika a friend, and he didn’t have many of those outside the circle of his old team.

Are you still up for studying at your place tonight? Anika asked as they rode the elevator up to the level where their Biology lecture was located.

Of course.

They tended to alternate weekdays and weekends for a study group that consisted of just them more often than not. Occasionally, one of Anika’s friends in the program would join them, but only at her apartment. Trevor didn’t mind letting Anika into his place once Sergeant Ekaterina Ovechkina—Katie to her friends—had run a background check on Anika, but he wasn’t willing to let just anyone into his home.

Everyone got off on the top level, moving with purpose toward the medium-sized amphitheater-style lecture hall. Every seat in the one-hundred-person capacity room would be full by the time the lecture started. Anika made a beeline for their usual seats—front row, dead center of the lecture dais.

Trevor sat next to her and dropped his backpack between his feet. He unlocked his tablet and created a new folder for tonight’s lecture. He’d record the lecture for later playback while taking notes tonight as well. The wealth of information he needed to absorb and retain was extensive, but Trevor’s military background had helped prepare him for the demanding pace.

Beside him, Anika finished getting situated before stretching her arms over her head until her spine popped. All right, I’m ready.

Trevor snorted. Sounds like it.

People were still filing in when Professor Adrianna Bishop arrived. The petite surgeon was a tenured professor who also oversaw the clinical rotations for Trevor’s class. In her late forties, Dr. Bishop’s no-nonsense demeanor reminded Trevor of Dr. Gracie Gold, the head of Medical for the MDF. Gracie was a metahuman whose power enabled her to help her patients heal, but she was also a strong-willed woman within the medical field and was highly respected.

Ladies, gentlemen, let’s get started, Dr. Bishop said as she approached the dais.

The data rings on her fingers activated the computer embedded in the dais. Holographic screens popped up around her in a shower of light. She brought up the current lecture curriculum and sent the first screen into the air above her, expanding it to a larger size so everyone could see.

Trevor hit Record on his tablet and got as comfortable as he could in the seat, focusing his attention on the lecture. Forty minutes in, the tunnel-vision focus he’d fallen into was abruptly shattered by the medical school’s AI interrupting the lecture.

The holographic screens blanked out before returning with a two-word warning in neon color: CODE SILVER.

Overhead, the speakers came to life as the AI announced Code Silver in the Emergency Room. Code Silver in the Emergency Room.

Trevor ignored Dr. Bishop’s call for calm and instead tossed Anika his tablet as he yanked his handgun out of his backpack. He got to his feet and raced for the door.

Lock the door behind me, Trevor tossed over his shoulder at Dr. Bishop as he left the lecture hall behind at a run.

Trevor had been informed of the hospital emergency code system on the first day of medical school. Code Silver meant there was someone with a weapon in the Emergency Room area, or there was a hostage situation taking place. Either option was unacceptable, and Trevor couldn’t stand by and do nothing.

Protocol dictated that medical staff do whatever they could to ensure the safety of their patients. That meant sheltering in place, having the AI lock every single door against unwanted entry, and waiting for the police to arrive.

This wasn’t the MDF base, where an override was possible due to Trevor’s status as a metahuman and his former rank as a member of Alpha Team. Lafayette University’s AI had no reason to listen to his demands.

Which meant Trevor had no choice but to telekinetically open every single locked door between him and the Emergency Room on the ground floor.

He took the stairwell rather than the elevators, careening down the flights at double time until he reached the bottom landing. Sliding his telekinesis around the door, Trevor gave a mental yank, and the sliding metal door was wrenched off its grooved track. Telekinetically shoving it into the wall casing, Trevor entered the hospital hallway, dodging around nurses frantically working to secure their patients.

Trevor mentally mapped his route to the Emergency Room and raced there, knowing lives were on the line. He kept his hands steady from long practice, finger resting against the frame of the pistol as he ran.

Make a hole, Trevor yelled as he careened around the corner and nearly toppled an empty hovergurney.

Whether or not people recognized the military slang, people got out of his way. Maybe it was his weapon or the look on his face. Trevor didn’t care, so long as he had a clear path to the ER.

When he rounded the final corner, emergency strobe lights flashing overhead, he could see one security guard on the floor bleeding from a gunshot wound in his arm. A quick glance at the amount of blood on the floor told Trevor the wound wasn’t fatal. The