Touch (A Denazen Novel, Book 1) Read online

  He glared at me, but after a few moments of silence, stepped aside. “You still have to leave the mall.”

  “I’m not worried.” I said, taking Kale’s hand. I hoped the suit couldn’t see the lie. As we walked away two more men join him. Just ahead was a fourth.

  He passed us with a simple nod of his head and a wink, and when I glanced back over my shoulder, they were all following. They couldn’t have looked less casual if they’d been flipping coins and whistling.

  We paused in front of the Jade Panda jewelry kiosk. The girl behind the counter snapped her gum and flipped open a magazine. Perfect. I leaned across the counter, waving my hand to get her attention.

  She gave an exaggerated sigh and slammed the magazine shut. “Yeah?”

  “Listen, I don’t want to freak anyone out, but I think you should call security.”

  Her expression brightened. “Oh?”

  I nodded my head to the left where the group of Denazen guys were huddled, now standing off to the side. “See those suits over there?”

  The girl, whose nametag said Frankie, nodded. “The ones in the Armani knockoffs?”

  “Yeah. I overheard them talking. Something about”—I leaned in closer and whispered dramatically—“a bomb.”

  Instead of what one might consider a normal reaction—wide eyes and gasping—Frankie grinned and picked up the phone. She spoke quietly into the receiver, sneaking glances at the men who were still standing in a clump to the side.

  It only took mall security a few minutes to get down to the kiosk. They spoke with Frankie—who made it seem like she was the one who heard them talking about the bomb—and approached the men.

  Confusion erupted, and a crowd started to gather. It was exactly what we needed to slip away.

  Score one for us!

  §

  Kale leaned back and closed his eyes.

  I readjusted myself, trying to get comfortable. Kind of hard to do scrunched inside a plastic playground tube, but I was determined. Luckily, the jeans I’d changed into had gone through the wash with some spare change in the pockets. When we’d left the mall, I found a pay phone and called a few friends, trying to find a place for us to crash but had no luck. Briefly, I thought of heading back to Misha’s, but the look on the desk clerk’s face as we walked out the door was enough to sink that idea dead in the water. In the end, we ended up at Prospect Park, in the Mill Street section of the playground. We’d gotten in before they locked the gates, so I felt fairly safe no one would find us.

  I settled back, across from Kale. “Tell me what Denazen is like?”

  “Please don’t ask me that,” he whispered.

  “Is it painful? To talk about, I mean? Bad memories?”

  Across from me, he opened his eyes. “It’s—unpleasant. Why do you want to hear about it?”

  “Were you—I mean, did they keep you in a cage?”

  For a minute, I didn’t think he’d answer. I felt bad for pushing it, but I wanted to know more. Needed to know. My mom was in there.

  Jaw tight, he said, “Not all the time, no.”

  I swallowed. “But some of the time?”

  His fingers twitched. One by one, he started flicking them. “I was… difficult as a child. I resisted. Fought them. But they have their methods of gaining control.”

  The quiet fury in his voice made my blood run cold. I wanted to know what methods they had, but didn’t dare ask.

  “After awhile, I was allowed to live with Sue in her unit as long as I behaved.” He laughed. “I see now that they were trying to keep me pacified because they couldn’t control me.”

  My stomach twisted. “So my mom wasn’t locked up?”

  He frowned. “Denazen uses any method necessary to ensure control. Some are brainwashed into thinking their assignments are doing good. Helping people. While others, the not so pliable, are forced. There was no need to keep Sue locked up. Cross kept her a prisoner with a single threat.”

  What would be enough to keep someone in such a horrible place, doing such horrible things?

  Then it hit me. “Dad threatened to hurt me.”

  “She would have done anything for them to keep you safe, as I would have done anything to keep her safe.” He reached across and grabbed my hand. “And now, you as well.”

  As comforting as it was, I pulled free from his grasp. “Me? Why me?”

  “Because you are brave. Strong. Not easily broken.” He leaned back, closing his eyes again. “You’re like me. You make me feel…nice.”

  I couldn’t stop the smile that threatened to overtake my face. Situation aside, Kale made me feel kind of nice, too.

  Despite the cramped space, my eyes grew heavy. Kale’s voice, the warmth of his body so close to mine, was soothing. A strange way to look at things considering our circumstance, but there it was. Despite Denazen scouring the city—and from the look on Dad’s face when Kale and I ran, I knew they were—I felt pretty safe here with him. Kale was different from anyone I’d ever met. Sure, he’d spent his entire life thinking he was nothing more than a killer, but it was more than that.

  Or maybe it wasn’t.

  Despite the life he’d endured, Kale was a good person. Fiercely loyal and courageous. To have lived through what he had and still have those qualities… It was amazing, not to mention miraculous. He’d called me brave and strong? I couldn’t hold a candle to him.

  I closed my eyes and let my mind wander. The last forty-eight hours of my life had been crazy with a heaping side of fail. How could I have not seen this coming? How could I have not known? The whole thing had been under my nose the entire time. I wondered what the FML post would look like.

  Today, when my father tried to shoot me, I found out he was an assassin monger who’s been keeping my mom locked away in a secret facility for freaky killers. FML.

  Seriously. F.M.L.

  8

  I woke up the next morning with a serious case of have-to-pee-now. The rain splashing against the ground outside didn’t help. I’d drifted off to sleep curled up next to Kale. When I opened my eyes, he was at the edge of the tube, watching the rain. Every few moments, he’d reach out and let it fall across his skin.

  “I’ve never felt anything like it,” he said without turning. How he’d known I was awake was a mystery. He pushed up the sleeves of his borrowed blue shirt, now soaked. “It’s cold and wet, yet still pleasant.”

  “You’ve never been in the rain before?”

  He shrugged, but said nothing.

  Never out in the rain? Jesus. Each minute I spent with Kale made me question my perception of reality. How the hell had I missed seeing who Dad really was? Maybe, deep down, I hadn’t. I’d chosen to hide things from him at an early age. Keep certain parts of myself a secret. Suddenly I wondered if maybe—just maybe—a part of me recognized him for what he truly was right from the start. A monster. “We better get moving.”

  “Moving to where?”

  I went to pull my phone from my back pocket to text Brandt, but remembered I’d smashed it. Great. Cut off. Digging into the duffle bag I’d miraculously been able to hold onto during everything, I pulled out the remaining cash and stuffed it in my back pocket. “I’m starved. Let’s go see what time it is, get some noms, and go find Alex Mojourn.”

  Kale climbed from the tube, then leaned over to help me out. If possible, the rain fell harder now. We were soaked almost instantly. Fantastic. Now on top of homeless chic, I’d be rocking the drowned rat look.

  Kale didn’t seem to mind. He shook his head, sending droplets out in every direction. “Where do we look? The man died before telling us where to find this person.”

  I sighed and brushed soggy bangs away from my face. “I know where he is.”

  By the time we’d found a clock and gotten breakfast, it was a
lmost ten. The strip was chaos, and normally that would have been a comfort, but today every passing face filled me with suspicion. The sour-faced chick who’d served us our coffee, the homeless man taking a leak on his own shoes, even the little old lady with the warm smile walking her toy poodle. My new sense of paranoia said they were all possible Denazen spies. At one point, I’d been convinced that the two preteen kids trailing behind us, eating ice cream, were Dad’s minions.

  Roudey’s Pool Hall didn’t open until noon to the public, but it was a little-known fact that he kept the back entrance unlocked early for regulars. Or at least he used to—I hadn’t been to the pool hall in a long time.

  Kale trailed close behind as I skirted around the rusted dumpster and stacks of discarded chalk boxes that littered the side of the building. I steered us through the garbage-infested alley with my hand clamped over my mouth as we made our way to the back door. A quick twist of the knob told me little had changed. Pushing it open, I gestured Kale inside and followed.

  From the back room, I could hear thumping beats accompanied by a rough voice screaming in tune. I was all for the hard stuff, but Screamo? So not my scene. Laughing and hooting, followed by a distinctly female giggle, floated over the music. I walked into the main room, Kale a hulking presence beside me.

  For a moment, no one noticed me. Normally, I’d stroll into a room like I owned the place, but here… Here, things were different. A year ago I swore never to set foot in this place again, and had it not been a matter of life and death I would have kept that pact. This was where I’d first met Alexander Mojourn. This was where it all began.

  And where it all ended.

  A sharp whistle split the air, snapping me back to the here and now. Time to focus. I was here for a reason—I had a purpose.

  “Dez, baby, long time no see,” a tall redheaded boy called out, crossing the floor in three sweeping steps. He threw his arms around me, lifting my feet off the floor.

  I returned the embrace with a quick squeeze and pulled away when he set me down. “Nice to see you too, Tommy.”

  At the front, on a stool behind the counter, the owner, Roudey, gave me a small nod and an inconspicuous wink. He watched the room while polishing one of his billiard trophies. I smiled back. Others did the same, calling out greetings and waving in acknowledgment, though thankfully none as enthusiastic as Tommy. Most of the faces were familiar. There were some new additions of course, but the same names were still among them, a little older with more miles of bad road stretching out across their faces. I searched the small crowd until I found the one we were looking for. The one I least wanted to see.

  A mop of spiky, white-blond hair, striking hazel eyes, and a labret with a yellow beaded smiley face nicknamed Fred.

  Alex Mojourn.

  He’d seen me enter the room but remained in the corner. As I approached him, I could feel eyes on me. I tried to come off casual as I strode across the room. Somewhere in the world, pigs were flying, goats were dancing, and little green men were shaking hands with the president. Time to tune it all out.

  “I need to talk to you.” I kept my face blank while holding his gaze. He’d taught me that. Show nothing.

  Still, he didn’t speak. He looked from me to Kale, eyes narrowing slightly, before nodding toward one of the private rooms behind the tables and off in the back.

  Several familiar faces waved as we walked by, but I ignored them. This was a part of my past. One I had no intention of revisiting. At one time I might have missed these people but not anymore. I was over the whole scene.

  “You look good,” Alex said as he closed the door behind Kale.

  I ignored the compliment. I wasn’t here to reminisce. “Cole Oster sent me.” I didn’t offer anything further because I wanted to see his reaction. His eyes widened—just a bit—before he nodded in acknowledgment of the name. Typical Alex. “We’ve gotten into some trouble with Denazen, and he said you could help us find the Reaper.”

  His reaction wasn’t what I expected. In fact, he was pretty much reactionless, which proved I never knew him as well as I thought. He gave Kale a casual-once over. “You a Six?”

  Kale either didn’t notice or ignored Alex’s condescending tone and simply nodded.

  I felt my fingers twitch. I wanted to hit Alex. Like I’d hit him the last time we’d spoken—ironically, in this very room. “You know about Denazen?” I kept my voice even—not wanting him knowing anything he’d said or lied about in the past bothered me anymore.

  This was B-movie perfection. Uber evil corporation, complete with brainless muscle and evil plot to take over the world. Everyone was in on it except the poor, helpless, beautiful girl.

  Okay. Not helpless, but definitely beautiful. No. Scratch that. Hot.

  He ignored my question, still focused on Kale. “What’d you do to get on their radar?”

  “Radar?” Kale asked, confused. “Like an ocean ship?”

  “He escaped,” I snapped, stepping between them.

  Alex’s eyes went wide. “Escaped?” He jerked forward, seizing my arm to pull me away.

  In a flash Kale towered beside me, reaching for Alex.

  “NO!” I cried, wrenching from Alex’s grasp and pulling back on Kale’s shirt simultaneously. Just in time to prevent contact. Kale was wearing gloves, but accidents could still happen. “No,” I repeated.

  “He was hurting you,” Kale said calmly, looking down at my fingers on his wrist. His sleeve had ridden up so my hand rested on bare skin. Turning, he glared at Alex with disgust. “He was going to strike you.”

  That got a reaction. Alex’s face flushed red, and his fists clenched tight at his sides. “Strike her? What the hell is wrong with you?” He stared. “I’d never hit her!”

  Kale wasn’t looking at me anymore. It was all about Alex. “You were hurting her,” he snarled, stepping forward. “It hurts to be grabbed like that.” His voice was low and dangerous. It sent a chill down my spine—and not the scared type, either.

  “It’s fine, Kale. Alex wasn’t going to hurt me. He was surprised, that’s all. Right, Alex?”

  Alex’s eyes drifted from Kale’s face to my fingers still restraining his wrist. “What’s his touch do?”

  I guess he knew me well enough to know that if it had been simply a matter of Kale pummeling him, I would have stepped back and enjoyed the show. Maybe gone to get popcorn. The fact that I’d stopped him said enough.

  “Death touch,” I said, easing my fingers off Kale’s wrist. Instead of letting my hand fall to the side, Kale laced his fingers with mine.

  Alex took it all in, lips pressed tight. “I guess I owe you an apology.”

  “Yeah,” I said softly. “You do.” He meant grabbing me—I meant something else. “How do you know about Denazen?”

  Alex waved his right hand at a discarded soda can sitting on one of the bar stools across the room. The can shot forward, rocketing into the wall next to Kale’s head. Kale didn’t flinch.

  “Telekinetic.” Of course. And the cheesy plot thickens. God. Someone kill me now.

  “There are many of you,” Kale snorted. “When one disobeys, they retire you and pull in another. There is nothing special about you.”

  A wicked smile spread across Alex’s lips. “Yeah? Well at least I can touch—” He looked down at our intertwined hands. “Wait, didn’t you say—?”

  “When he tried to kill me, we found out I was immune.” I said it mostly for shock value. Boy did it work.

  Alex froze. The vein on the side of his neck bulged and the top corner of his lip curled upward as he squinted his right eye. I knew that look—the Elvis, I used to call it. There were times that look and the fire that came with it could turn my knees to soft-serve ice cream. Now? It made me angry.

  “Tried to kill you? Dez, what the hell have you gotten yourself into?�
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  “We need to find the Reaper.”

  Alex shook his head. “Tell me what’s going on.”

  “Like I said, we’re looking for the Reaper. Do you know where we can find him or not?”

  The stubborn set of his jaw told me he wanted to argue, but I guessed he knew better. Very few people won an argument with me. I’d learned from the best.

  “I don’t know where he is, but there are some people that might.”

  I waited, but he said nothing. “Well?”

  I could tell he wanted to yell, but he kept it under control. That was new. Self-control wasn’t something the guy had in spades. “You’re not going to tell me what’s going on?”

  I glared right back. “Why should I? You didn’t feel the need to tell me you were screwing that college girl behind my back.”

  9

  I’d met Alex Mojourn right after I turned fifteen. It was right before he dropped out of school. He was seventeen and a junior, having been left back at one point in grade school, and I was a sophomore.

  Honor student, bookworm, good girl—these were all terms used to describe me back then. I was shy and kept to myself—didn’t have many friends. I did my homework, and obeyed all the rules. But for some reason, Alex took notice of me. When he deemed me worthy of his attention, well, I just about fell all over myself with excitement. We started dating—he took me to parties, we hung out with all his friends.

  He was my first boyfriend, my first love, my first kiss—my first everything. When I was sixteen, I caught him undressing some bimbo from the local college in the back room of Roudey’s, and he became my first heartbreak.

  We’d seen each other plenty since then, mainly because we traveled the same raver circle. Each time, though, we’d stay on opposite ends of the room. Seeing him was hard. Talking to him, that was even harder. Finding out he’d lied about something else? Pretty much devastating.