Right Through Me (The Obsidian Files #1)(12)

Sisko lunged for the phone, outraged. “What the f*ck? He’s an unmod. No one cracks my code. Not even Zade.”

Noah turned away from him to check out Hannah, who was unnaturally silent. Her eyes had taken on that blank Midlands stare. Her lips had gone blue. Blood pressure drop. His bar had a small espresso machine, so he slid in the coffee capsule and brewed a cup. He sugared up the resulting beverage, and pressed it into Hannah’s hand.

“Drink that,” he directed. “You’re fading.”

Hannah’s attitude revived enough for her to roll her eyes. She sipped, grimacing.

Noah hit the switch on the wall that engaged the window shades. It was made of the same material he used for shield specs, to filter out all the frequencies that disturbed him and left just enough light to function. The motor hummed as the shades descended.

Sisko sighed as darkness engulfed them. “Great,” he muttered. “This again.”

“Now?” Hannah asked plaintively. “Really?”

Noah ignored them and popped out the contacts. He could only do a bare-eyes scan in near darkness, and he needed to scan Hannah right now.

Sisko and Hannah exchanged resigned glances. Every time he called a meeting of the Midland rebels, he scanned them. Made sure everyone was chilled. Dangerous secrets hidden. Identities intact. No erratic thought patterns or chemical imbalances.

Everything smooth, normal. Move along, folks, nothing to see here.

He’d lost too many of them already. Some during the Midlands research trials, some in in the rebellion day battle. Some after, lost to traumatic stress, depression and suicide. He’d been the one to persuade them to rebel, at Midlands. But they’d had no real choice. They’d been fighting for their lives.

Obsidian would pay someday. But in the meantime, he would keep an AVP enhanced eagle eye on the ones left, and the very second that one of his people skipped a beat, he’d be all over his or her ass. He’d be damned if he’d lose another one.

Hannah checked out, more or less. Coffee helped. The shock was passing. She was burning too hot with excitement in some places, and too patchy in others, but he’d seen her worse. Sisko looked worried but otherwise normal.

It was his Midlands legacy. All of them had one. Together, they were a circus freakshow, but Noah’s hounding kept their weirder stuff under the radar. Mostly.

Hannah gave him a resigned eye-roll. She was the only one who could meet his eyes when he used AVP. The rest of his group avoided his gaze, which took on a luminous, reflective amber glow like a night predator. It made their skins crawl.

He didn’t give a shit. They’d survive skin crawl. He was all about survival.

Sisko stared out the shielded window, bored and stoic. Humoring him.

“Let’s call him,” Hannah said suddenly. “Instead of just sitting here, wondering about him. Call him, right now. Ask him where the hell he’s been for thirteen years.”

“No,” Noah said.

Her mouth tightened. “But if there’s such a big hole in our security—”

“He knows too much about us.”

“His message doesn’t sound like he wishes us any harm,” Hannah argued. “Why warn us about Batello and Obsidian if he wanted to hurt us?”

“We don’t know anything about him,” he snarled.

“That’s bullshit. I know him. He’s my brother, goddamnit. And I’m not asking for your f*cking permission.” Hannah spun and marched for the door.

“Stop!” Noah punched all the force of his will into the word. Hannah froze with her back to him, her hand on the door handle. Her slim shoulders vibrated with tension.

“Ease off, Noah.” Sisko had a worried frown between his dark brows.

“Do not contact him,” Noah said to Hannah, enunciating with harsh clarity. “Do nothing, unless we talk it through first. Do you understand?”

“Oh, yes. I understand perfectly. You were jealous and competetive with him before, and surprise, surprise . . . you still are. Happy birthday, Noah. Fuck you, too.”

She slammed the door after herself.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Sisko demanded. “You having trouble with your combat programming again?”

“I’m fine.” Noah handed his phone to Sisko. “Take this number. Find out everything you can about Asa. And follow Hannah. Make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid. Thirteen years is a long time. I have no idea who this guy is now.”

“I’m on it.” Sisko gave the big block of data a swift glance and handed it back. They all had the photographic memory mod, but Sisko’s talent for data-gulping and ferreting out information was uncanny even by Midlander standards.

“Find Zade, too. Tell him to get his ass in here to talk to me,” Noah said. “But be careful on the phone. We’ve definitely been hacked.”

Sisko gave him one final worried stare before the door fell closed.

Finally, he could just sit alone in the dark and try to chill. These massive back-to-back adrenaline dumps were going to take a long time to metabolize. Good thing he didn’t actually need sleep.

Or at least, not what an unmod would call sleep.

There were several episodes in his life that he made a point of not remembering. The one in his mind now made the short list. That day he woke up after Dad’s death and found Mom gone. He’d been seventeen. Asa, fifteen. Hannah, nine.