Touch (Denazen #1)(12)

“So I bring him back to my place figuring, hey, this’ll piss Dad off something fierce, only I didn’t get the reaction I was hoping for. He knew Kale. Like, knew the guys chasing him down.”

Brandt didn’t respond. Instead, he backed away and reached into the van. A moment later, he pulled out a small purple duffle and a plastic bag. Tossing the duffle at Kale’s feet, he said, “There are clothes for you in here, and what little cash I could scrounge up last minute. Get the hell out of Dodge. Fast.”

Kale picked up the duffle.

Holding out the plastic bag to me, he said, “These are yours. This morning I snuck into your room. I was planning to get some of your own things and bail. The last time I gave you one of my unclean shirts to wear you spazzed. But when I got there, I heard voices.”

“Voices?”

He shook his head. “Didn’t see who it was, but I sure as hell heard enough. They said some really tweaked-out shit.”

A lump of ice formed in my stomach. “What’d you hear?”

“Your Dad’s a bad dude. Like, really bad. I heard him saying something about disposing of bodies.” He grabbed my shoulders and shook me. “Bodies, Dez—as in dead people. Corpses! Something about the old dump site being full. Then he mentioned you. Something about finding you and bringing you in. Then they left.”

I felt kind of sick. Maybe he’d misunderstood something. Dump site could mean garbage. Bodies could mean…okay, I had nothing for that one. “That all?”

Brandt hesitated. “No… When he left, he didn’t lock his office. Didn’t have long, but I managed to dig up some information.” He nudged the board again, flipping it over and resting his right foot on top.

“What did you find?”

“Your Dad’s into some crazy shit. That law firm he works for? Denazen? Yeah, so not a law firm, Dez. They’re something else. They use Sixes—that’s what they call people with weird abilities—as weapons, rented out to the highest bidder. Political scuffles, personal vendettas, hell, even the mob. Assassins. They use these people as assassins.”

“I can’t believe you went snooping. What if he came back?”

His expression melted into pure mischief. Lips tilted up, exposing a single dimple. That smile drove girls crazy. “I’ve got Dad’s nose for digging up news. I didn’t endure every father-son career day at the newspaper for nothing, you know. Picked up plenty of mad stealthing skills.”

Uncle Mark was an investigative reporter at the Parkview Daily News. If there was deeply hidden dirt to find, he’d find it. I stored the thought away for later use. I had no intentions of dragging anyone else into this unless I had no other choice.

“This is not happening,” I whispered. “What about my mom? She’s alive. Did you find anything about her?”

His eyes widened. “Your mom’s alive? What makes you think that?”

“She is alive.” Kale reinforced. “She is a prisoner of Denazen, like I was.”

Brandt’s eyes went wide and he opened his mouth, but I cut him off. “What about the Reaper? Did you come across anything about him?”

“Nothing on a Reaper, but I didn’t have a lot of time. Pretty much skimmed the papers on his desk. Trust me, after what I’d heard, your Dad is the last person I want to see.” He sighed. “We should head back to my place. We’ll tell my Dad. He’ll figure out what to do.”

“No-can-do. Kale is, um, kinda different.”

Brandt folded his arms. Shuffling, he switched feet, placing the left one atop the skateboard and rolling it back and forth. “Define different.”

“Kale’s important to that place. He’s one of those Sixes. I can’t let Dad find him.”

“This isn’t a game, Dez.”

Why did everyone think I thought that, for Christ sake? “I know!”

“This is bigger than you and me. Bigger than pissing your Dad off. You just met the guy. Why bury yourself in trouble for a stranger?”

“First off, he knows about Denazen and he knows Mom. I’ll need all the help I can get if there’s any chance to get her out.” I took a step forward. “Second, he was a prisoner at Denazen. They used him to kill people.”

He paled. “Kill people?”

“My skin is deadly to anything it touches,” Kale confirmed as he took my hand.

Brandt stared, horrified. The skateboard stilled under his foot. “Then how come he’s touching you? How is he touching you?”

“I seem to be immune.”

“You seem to be immune,” he repeated. “Don’t you get it? They’ll think you’re one of them, too!”

“I can’t touch other Sixes,” Kale said, voice pained. “They had me try. Over and over again. I killed them all. Every time, I killed them.”

Brandt whirled on Kale, shooting him a deadly glare. “Back off, dickhead.”

“I’m not leaving him,” I said, standing my ground.

“This is stupid, Dez.” he snapped, even though I could see from his expression he knew it wouldn’t change my mind. “Come back to the house and we’ll figure this out.”

“I can’t. Gotta see this through.”

He pulled out a pen. Snatching my hand, he began to write on my palm. “Go here and ask for this Misha Vaugn chick—but be careful. I don’t know who she is, or what she does, but her name was in a file on the desk that said main targets. If she’s one of these people, maybe she can help you. Stay off the grid, Dez. I don’t want to have to storm this place to drag your ass out.”