The Forbidden Trilogy (The Forbidden Trilogy #1-3)

***

I paid little attention to the rest of the world as we drove. My mind went numb. Too much had already happened that day; I just couldn't think about another thing. I needed a bath, a toothbrush and a nap.

Which is why I didn't sense the intruder when we pulled into the carport at Brad's apartment.

Or when we walked upstairs to his unit.

The broken-in door got my attention though.

***

Drake immediately stepped in front of me, shielding me from the apartment with his body. He spoke to Brad through clenched teeth, "Get her out of here!"

'Go back to the car with Brad. Get as far away as you can. I'll contact you when it's safe.'

I grabbed his arm and shook off Brad, who was trying to lead me back down the stairs. "Come with us. I don't want you going in there alone, Drake. Please!"

'I'll be fine, but I can't focus if I'm worried about you and our baby.'

Glass shattered in the apartment. I jumped and nearly fell off the stair. My heart beat through my chest, and I wrapped my free hand protectively around my stomach.

Drake needed me, even if he didn't see it. If we combined our powers, we could control whoever was in the apartment without anyone getting hurt. He didn't have to do it alone.

No! I didn't want to default to using mind control. The ethics may have gotten murky after my fight with Drake, and I wasn't ready to swear it off entirely, but using that power made me feel sick—especially after what had happened at the beach with Kylie.

Instead, I linked to the mind of the person in the apartment.

It was like hitting a brick wall. The impact physically rocked me, causing my foot to slip on the stair behind me.

Brad caught me around the waist. "Careful there."

"Thanks." The handrail became my lifeline as I steadied myself and tried to figure out why my powers weren't working.

Brad stood behind me, his hand still on the small of my back in case I decided to forget how to stand again. His thoughts washed over me. 'Wish I had powers... useless here... can't even help with the story... least she didn't fall....'

My powers weren't the problem; it was the person in the house. Were they immune to me? That had never happened before.

"Drake, I can't read his mind. It's like trying to walk through a wall."

'I can't use my mind control on him either."

My stomach dropped. "You tried mind control?"

'Of course! I wasn't going to risk anyone's safety if I didn't have to.'

His argument made sense, but still....

"What are we going to do now?"

'We aren't going to do anything. I'm going to go in there and beat the shit out of this guy while Brad takes you somewhere safe.'

"I'm not loving this plan."

'Can you think of a better one?'

I couldn't and he knew it, so I reluctantly followed Brad down the stairs and watched the apartment swallow Drake.

My resolve to do the smart thing lasted all of sixty seconds. As soon as I heard screams and crashing sounds, I lost it and ran back to the stairs.

Brad chased me. "Hey, Sam, you can't go in there!"

I rushed up the steps. "I can't let him do this alone either. What if there's more than one person? What if they're armed?"

"Yeah, what if? And how will you stop them, especially if your powers don't work?"

"The old fashioned way," I said.

"What's that?"

We stood at the door. I looked at Brad. "I'll throw something at their head."

"Great. And here I thought we were walking into a fight unprepared."

I ignored his sarcasm and peeked into the apartment. Upturned furniture littered the floor like a child's playhouse, but no Drake. Someone grunted, followed by a loud thud.

"They're in your room." I headed down the small hallway. On the way, I picked up an upturned lampstand, minus the lampshade.

"That's your big plan? Hit the bad guy in the head with a lampstand?"

"Yes, this is my big plan. At least I have a plan!"

Brad looked around and found a baseball bat that had fallen out of the closet. "My plan." He swung the bat around.

I nodded, and we approached his bedroom.

"Drake, we're in the hall. Are you okay?"

Nothing.

"Drake?"

"He's not responding to me. What do we do?"

Brad looked at me, then the door. His brown eyes turned to small slits. "Stand back."

He made a loud "Hiya!" sound and crashed through the door swinging his bat.

I flanked his side, straining to see inside the tiny room.

He made contact with something that sounded like a watermelon.

My stomach quivered in protest, given that Brad didn't tend to keep watermelons in his bedroom. I didn't want to see, but had to look.

Drake and Brad stood over a body whose head had seen better days. His face was an unrecognizable mess of purple and blue lumps with a split lip and gash in his cheek oozing blood.

I rushed to Drake, who had a swollen eye and bloody lip, but otherwise looked okay. "Any serious injuries?"

"None for me. He's not so lucky." He wrapped his arms around me, and I leaned into him.

"Is he dead?"