Anomalous Rogues, page 4
“If she does…then I will reconsider.”
His father spoke with a hint of annoyance, just as he used to when Tristan was little and walked into his office.
“But if there isn’t any improvement before the day of our anniversary in one week…” He motioned at the machines around his wife’s bed. “We will be shutting all of this off.”
Tristan’s jaw clenched, and he tightened his grip around his mother’s hand. The mere thought of letting her go made him nauseous, but he kept himself composed while his father was in the room. Once he left, Tristan leaned close to his mother’s ear with his heart aching.
“I will do whatever it takes to save you, Mom,” he whispered, pushing through the tightness in his chest. “Whatever it takes.”
SIX
“You want me to do what?” Zane looked away from his laptop and stared at Anya as if she had sprouted two heads.
Anya glanced around the school library to make sure no one else was listening. “Can you get me a fake ID or not?” she asked.
“Of course, I can, but...” He narrowed his eyes. “Why would you even need one?”
Anya lowered her eyes to her hands and picked at her cuticles. “It’s not for anything illegal, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
He arched a brow. “That’s what fake IDs are for, Anya.”
“I know, but it’s not what you think…” She pressed her eyes shut, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Zane, can you get it to me by tomorrow or not?”
Zane frowned. She could tell he wasn’t just worried, but slightly hurt that she wasn’t being open with him. They had been friends since middle school, and although he sometimes said he felt like she and Chloe had the tighter friendship, he still considered himself to be part of their inner circle.
“Alright.”
She let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”
“You would tell me if you were in some kind of trouble, right?” he asked.
She forced a smile. “You know what makes you the best friend a girl can have?” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “You know how to keep a secret. So, how about we keep this between us, huh?”
Zane nodded. “Okay. I’ll get on it right away.”
“Thank you.” Anya rose to her feet. “Oh, and if you see Chloe, can you let her know I’m looking for her?”
“Sure.”
Anya left the library and headed toward her locker. She wanted to have it emptied before Chloe arrived. There was no time to waste, and she didn’t want Chloe to see it. She would have a million questions, and Anya could never flat-out lie to her best friend. She hadn’t even thought about how she would say goodbye. Not that she would say those exact words, but it needed to be special in some way. After all, that was the only reason she came back to school. She hadn’t told her uncle what had happened with Tristan. If she had stayed home, he would’ve known something was wrong. She didn’t want him to uproot her brother’s life because of her. Or his own. Their lives would be better without her, anyway.
The more she thought about it, the more she came to realize how much of her uncle’s life revolved around her. In protecting her, he spent most of his days in his lab, researching ways to make her condition less threatening to herself. Her leaving would be a blessing for him. He could have a life of his own again and spend more time with Rowan without obsessing about blood samples and data and plants. She wanted him to be free of anomalous once and for all.
Anya took most things from her locker and shoved them inside her bookbag, leaving behind only her schoolbooks.
“We need to talk.”
Tristan’s voice came from behind, and Anya’s blood turned cold. She closed her locker and swung around to face him.
“You said I had until the end of the week.”
“I know.” He pulled her into the same janitor’s closet as before, closed the door, and turned on the light. “I need to ask you a question.”
She gave him a quizzical look. “You couldn’t just ask it in the hall?”
“The healing…” he said quickly. “How does it work, exactly?”
“What?”
“It’s a simple question.”
Anya crossed her arms and gave him a pointed look. “Nothing about my ability is simple.”
“I didn’t say your ability was simple, I said my question was simple.” His eyes were bloodshot like he hadn’t slept. “I just want to know how it works. How long does it take? What are the limitations? Things like that.”
Anya arched a skeptical brow. “Why don’t you just tell me what you want?”
Tristan was silent for a long moment, but Anya could tell by the way he was looking at her that there was a lot he wanted to say.
“My mother,” he finally said.
Anya’s hardened expression softened. “What about your mother?”
Tristan opened his mouth, but no words came out. He kept trying over and over again, but to no avail. It seemed like he couldn’t find the words. He lowered his eyes to the floor and chewed on the inside of his lip.
“My mother is in a coma.” His voice was surprisingly soft. “She has been for three years. So, I was just wondering if what you did to me would work on her?”
Anya stared at him, unsure of what to say. “You want me to heal your mother who’s been in a coma for three years?”
Tristan looked up to meet her eyes and nodded. “Is that something you could do?”
Anya couldn’t believe that Tristan, out of all people, was asking her to use her ability. “I’m not sure. I guess it would depend.”
“On what?”
Anya opened her mouth to explain, but the desperation in his eyes kept her words clogged in her throat.
“I know I don’t deserve your help,” he said, crossing into her personal space. “But I am begging you, Anya. If there’s anything you can do…”
His voice was pleading, and hearing her name out of his mouth while in such close proximity sent a wave of warmth over her.
She cleared her throat. “It depends on the extent of the damage to the brain and body. I would have to see her to be sure.”
“They’re going to pull the plug,” Tristan added.
For a moment, Anya wondered if his voice was really shaking or if she was hearing things.
“Whatever it is you can do, I’ll take it,” he said.
Anya thought about it for a moment. “If I help you…” she spoke in a soft voice, “Will you let me stay until graduation?”
Tristan nodded. “If you do this…I swear I’ll keep your secret.”
The door swung open, and the bright light from the hallway invaded the small closet. The janitor’s eyes widened at the sight of them.
Tristan stepped out of the closet, unfazed. “Sorry about that, sir.”
Anya followed him out, her cheeks burning as the janitor looked at her with skeptical eyes. And to make things worse, she spotted a pale Chloe staring at them with her mouth hanging open.
“Meet me by my car tomorrow before school,” Tristan whispered before walking away.
Chloe stared at him as he walked past her, then her eyes darted back to Anya.
“I am in utter shock right now,” Chloe said.
Anya sighed. “That makes two of us.”
SEVEN
The next morning, Tristan stood beside his car in the school parking lot. Anya showed up on time. It was slightly strange not seeing her with her friends. The three of them have been glued to the hip since middle school. Even though Tristan didn’t always remember their names, their faces were always familiar.
As he watched her cross the parking lot, he wondered how he’d missed it. He had classes with that girl since they were twelve years old and he never once thought she was like them. In his tracker training, he was taught to look for specific things when trying to recognize anomalous habits. They were mostly loners who enjoyed separating themselves from others, but not quite troublemakers. They never participated in extracurricular activities, and hardly ever called attention to themselves in any way. In some cases, they would also avoid eye contact as much as possible. One red flag was their interest in DNA altering.
The more Tristan thought about it, the more he recognized that Anya did fit that profile. She always sat in the back of the class. Even though she wasn’t a loner, she never branched out beyond her two close friends. But thinking back to lunch, her friend was studying altering DNA. She was smart to befriend humans. It was a good way to camouflage her true nature. He wondered if her friends knew her secret. The idea that the other anomalous could be hiding so well made Tristan feel uneasy.
Still, he was going to keep his word and not turn her in. That didn’t mean he approved of her kind. She was just as dangerous as the rest of them, but, at least, she wasn’t an imminent threat to anyone. But he would find a way to keep an eye on her. If she stepped out of line in any way, they would both pay the price.
“Let’s go,” he said, unlocking the door as she approached.
Her eyebrows shot up. “Wait, we’re going now? But the bell is about to ring.”
“The clinic has fewer people in the morning,” he said, opening the driver’s door. “Unless you want to get caught again? I can’t promise the next guy will be as nice as me, though.”
“Oh, this is you being nice?” She let out a chuckle. “Good to know.”
He rolled his eyes and got behind the wheel. The engine roared to life. A feeling of betrayal was stabbing at his chest. He hated the idea of looking the other way while an anomalous walked free, but he was a man of his word, and if she kept her end of the deal, so would he.
“We’ll need to make a stop,” Anya added.
Tristan arched a curious brow. “Where?”
Anya glanced at him briefly, then looked out her window. “A flower shop.”
The clinic was empty, just as Tristan predicted. Only one nurse was at the front desk, and she greeted him without looking up from her computer. Not that it would’ve been strange to see him bringing his mother flowers, but ten bouquets were a bit much, even for him. He wasn’t entirely sure how to explain if anyone asked, other than her anniversary was coming up and he wanted to do something special. Thankfully, no one asked. No one even looked in their direction.
Tristan opened the door to his mother’s room and stepped aside, allowing Anya to enter ahead of him. He wasn’t going to let her out of his sight. He closed the door behind them and turned around to find Anya staring at his mother. Her gentle eyes caught him off guard. He’d never seen anyone look at his mother that way. No one except for him.
“She’s beautiful,” Anya uttered softly.
She had such genuine warmth, he wondered if the healing had already begun. Anya placed her bookbag and the five bouquets she was holding on a chair next to the bed, then moved slowly to stand next to his mother.
“What happened to her?”
“Accident at work,” Tristan said, placing his five bouquets on another chair across from Anya. “She was thrown out of a window by a...specimen.”
Anya met his eyes. “Anomalous?”
He responded with a curt nod, but when he said nothing else, he noticed Anya watching him.
“You don’t trust me being here, do you?”
She wasn’t wrong, but still, he didn’t want her to think there was any ulterior motive other than helping his mother wake up. “I had no other option.”
Anya reached for his mother’s blanket, still looking at him. “May I?”
He sucked in a sharp breath, then nodded. She lifted the blanket and began examining his mother’s arms.
“Interesting.”
“What is?” he asked.
“She’s not swollen,” Anya replied. “That’s a good sign.”
“How so?”
“It means her organs aren’t failing,” Anya explained, moving on to his mother’s legs. “And her blood flow seems good too.”
He went to stand across from her. “How can you tell?”
“I can feel it.” She laid a hand on his mother’s forehead and closed her eyes.
“So...can you help her or not?”
Anya opened her eyes and gave him a pointed look. “Are you going to let me focus, or will you keep distracting me?”
“Sorry.” He brought his hands to his back as if the posture alone was enough to remind him to give her the needed space.
Anya closed her eyes again, one hand still on his mother’s forehead while the other was just above her chest. The most serene expression took over Anya’s face, and Tristan couldn’t look away. He wished he could feel whatever she was feeling.
Anya opened her eyes, and Tristan leaned forward, eagerly.
“Did it work?” His eyes shifted to his mother’s peaceful face. “Is she going to wake up?”
“That’s not how it works,” Anya explained. “She’s been under too long.”
“What does that mean?”
Anya covered his mother with the blanket again. “It means...the healing will have to happen in stages.”
“Oh.” That didn’t seem like a problem, although he wasn’t entirely sure how long it would be until a nurse walked in for her rounds. He glanced at his watch. “How long do you need?”
“It’ll take days, Tristan. Not hours.”
Hearing her say his name filled him with a strange sense of warmth, and he wondered if she was somehow using her ability on him as well.
“Are you okay?”
He cleared his throat. “Yeah. Fine.”
“Okay, then let stage one begin.” She sucked in a breath and pointed across the room. “Can you bring your flowers here, please?”
Tristan watched as Anya grabbed her bouquets and placed them at his mother’s feet. Tristan placed his flowers on top of hers. Anya returned her hand to his mother’s head and closed her eyes. She took a deep breath. His attention shifted to his mother. Even though it was going to take some time, a wave of renewed hope washed over him.
A rush of wind blew through, but the windows weren’t even open. Anya jolted forward as if losing her balance. She grabbed onto the frame of the gurney, beads of sweat forming on her forehead as her face grew paler by the second.
Still, she kept her eyes closed. Focused.
Her shoulders hunched over as if energy was being sapped out of her. He walked around the bed, wondering if there was anything he could do to help. Her hand began to glow, and the flowers started to wither. He stepped back, unsure of what was happening. Though color was draining fast from her face, he trusted she knew what she was doing.
Anya’s eyes shot open. She gasped, as if she’d been underwater that whole time. Her knees buckled, and he hurried to catch her, wrapping a strong arm around her waist to keep her from falling.
“That’s all I can do for now,” she breathed.
Tristan glanced at his mother. She looked exactly the same.
“What does that mean?”
“It means…we’ll have to wait and see how her body reacts.” Anya grabbed onto his arms for support. “I need you to take me home now.”
“Don’t you want to go back to school?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I can’t. I need to go home.”
“Are you okay to walk?” he asked, noticing how firm she was gripping his arm.
“I’ll just need to hold onto you, if that’s okay.”
He nodded. It was the least he could do. “Let’s go before someone comes in.”
On the way toward the door, she reached for her bookbag on the chair, but Tristan grabbed it from her.
“I got it,” he said, swinging it over his shoulder.
Thankfully, the halls were empty and, before long, they were back in the car. He started the engine, then glanced at Anya in the passenger seat. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was heavy like she had just run a mile.
He had so many questions. The main one being what exactly did she do. As strange as it was, he had to admit it was fascinating to watch her in action. When the flowers withered, he couldn’t believe his eyes.
“Where do you live?” he asked.
“My car is at school,” she muttered, her eyes still closed.
“Are you okay to drive?” When she didn’t respond, he let out a long breath. “I’ll take that as a no.”
EIGHT
When Anya woke up, she was in Tristan’s arms, and he was opening the front door of her house.
“I found your keys in your bag,” he said. “And I got your address from your license.”
His voice was soft in her ear, or it could have been that her blood pressure had dropped, and her hearing was muffled. Whatever the case, she was dehydrated and in desperate need of an IV. She pointed a frail finger toward her uncle’s office, knowing he wasn’t going to be home. And thankfully, Rowan hadn’t finished school yet.
Tristan carried her across the living room, then pushed yet another door open with his foot.
Inside her uncle’s office, Tristan lowered her to her feet. Her head spun a little and her legs felt weak. She glanced at the bookshelf and let out an exhausted sigh. How in the world was she going to make it down to the basement when she could barely stand?
“Wouldn’t you rather go to your room?” Tristan asked, giving her a quizzical look as she held onto his arms for balance.
“No, this is good. Thanks.”
He pulled up a chair and she leaned against it for support. Despite being lightheaded, she didn’t need to sit down. She needed to go downstairs and get an IV as soon as possible.
“Would you like me to call anyone?”
She shook her head. “I’ll be fine. Thanks.” She motioned toward the door. “You can go now.” She shifted her weight to the back of the chair for balance, releasing him so he could go.
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” he asked.
“You need to go. Now.”
Anya pushed him toward the door, and he stumbled out of the room. She closed the door and staggered to the bookshelf. It took all her strength to slide the secret door wide enough to squeeze through.
