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“I’ll talk to her,” Pops said, not at all perturbed and strode towards the door. He left the room, closing the door behind him.

“Dad asked her if she wanted to help us in the war room last night,” Jace explained to me quietly. “He told her that Gavin and Sierra would be in here as well. She refused. She said she was needed in the clinic more, to help it get ready, and it would be selfish of her not to be there to help. She then added that she wanted to finish something that she started, so unless she was sent out to fight, she would be in the clinic.”

I gave him an exasperated look. “So, in other words, she was hoping Lincoln was going to help in the clinic again today, and she came to the conclusion he was in here and wants to be in here now, too.”

“Why?” Lincoln asked bluntly. “I thought she was connected with Gavin.”

“She is.” Gavin sighed, no longer pretending that he didn’t hear our quiet conversation. “But she’s struggling right now,” he said with a frown.

“What happens if we don’t stay with our connections?” Lincoln asked as he gave me an enigmatic look. “Do we still lose our gift?”

We hadn’t even connected yet, and he was already looking for an out. Good riddance. I didn’t need his energy to screw with me more than it already has. His presence was unsettling, and I liked the dynamics I had with my true connections.

“No,” Jace shook his head. “But you’ll never reach your full potential.”

“What does that even mean?” Lincoln asked.

“Well…” Jace thought for a moment. “The best example I can think of is this: I was capable of feeling people and pushing feelings on them before Blake came back into my life, but now that we’ve stayed connected, I was able to project feelings on a whole stadium full of people. If we were to disconnect, I might struggle to even feel people, let alone project.” He cleared his throat, seeming to struggle with his next words. “My father has two connections. He wasn’t too affected by the loss of his connections. However, he has recently reconnected to one of his connections, and she has been growing stronger once more. His other connection, however, is definitely feeling the effects of not keeping the connection.”

“It’s not fair,” I heard Jemmy protest as Will opened the door once more. “I’m not needed there anymore, and I want to go in there.”

“Jemmy,” Will said patiently. “You made your decision, and I made mine.”

He softly closed the door before she could continue objecting.

I sighed in frustration and went back to my work. All these distractions were keeping us from our mission at hand. We couldn’t be locked down here for much longer. Even if we were capable of surviving down here, we would go stir crazy after a while.

I was zooming in on the next person, clicked and then zoomed it in. My breath caught as I recognized the tall, beautiful woman with dark hair and stunning blue eyes—Jace’s eyes. There was no mistaking Alison Bell; Jace and Jaxson’s birth mother, Will’s other connection, Megan’s sister, and Horatio’s lover. Her gift of seduction was one we needed to worry about. Even in her diminished state, she was still a force to be reckoned with.

“It’s Alison,” I stated just as I retrieved the picture off the printer and handed it to Jace. I saw his own intake of breath before his jaw clenched.

“I’ll take it,” he said, barely disguising his fury as he stood up.

I wanted to embrace him and let him know I was there for him, but I also knew that, even though he was an empath, he hated to share his feelings. Where his birth mother was concerned, he was locked down as tight as Fort Knox. I doubt he would ever forgive her betrayal.

“Who’s Alison?” Lincoln asked as he printed his own picture.

I looked at him for a moment. It wasn’t my secret to tell. “I’ve come to the realization that normal and gifted do not go hand in hand,” I explained cryptically. “We all seem to be damaged, and we all have stories. I’m not at liberty to share their stories unless they’ve asked me to. Let’s just say he once knew her very well.”

Chapter 17

I would be lying if I said I didn’t want to be out there with Terrance, Marcel, Ford, Dawn, Gavin, Sierra, Jemmy, and Sam.

Instead, I nervously paced in front of the television screens. We could clearly see our friends illuminated in the stairwell, thanks to our cameras. They were part of our first strike team, poised on the steps, heading out to the helipad.

Our second-strike team consisted of; Will, G (the man I met in the kitchens during Thanksgiving that was gifted), Yaris, Spencer, Mr. Moore, Randy, Adams, and a few other Nons. They were currently poised next to our main entrance.

We spent hours researching our enemy. There were over one hundred of them outside. We came up with our counter-attack. Then we disseminated the information to our strike team on base so they could start studying them, as well as sharing that information with the Knights and the South Carolina team who had just come in that morning.

Will, Paul, and Kirk had been in contact with the new-comers all day. They had met up at a little hotel on the outskirts of town and set up shop immediately. We sent over facts about our enemies. They sent us the information on their teams. Then the plan was set.

It was seven o’clock—1900, military time—and the sun had set two hours ago. The attackers had their tents erected, and the fires were lit. There was a fresh powder of snow on the ground, and I could see many of the enemy pacing just as I was. They really chose the wrong time of the year to attack us. Conditions up in the mountains weren’t favorable for a campout.

I assumed they thought the attack would be quick and easy. They had underestimated our stronghold and definitely hadn’t thought this plan through. Any research done on our facility would have come up blank. Our facility didn’t exist, according to any public records. Everyone was hired with a non-disclosure clause. All our deliveries were done by other government contractors. Secrecy had been of utmost importance when it was built, and we still had to maintain that level of privacy.

We had watched them all day, and as the day wore on, their tempers flared. They were frustrated that they hadn’t been able to infiltrate us yet. Their earth mover continued to rock our mountain, but they weren’t strong enough to do anything but cause faint tremors. Tremors we couldn’t feel down here.

I looked up at the clock. The red digits were bright, and time never seemed to move as slowly as it did now. At precisely 1905, the South Carolina team and the Knights would be attacking the group from behind, while we attacked them from above and below.

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