“I only just told Dante. He didn’t keep anything from you, Draven.”
Their words are a garbled mess, the two of them talking over each other in their need to convince us that neither of them betrayed anyone. After looking back and forth between them like I’m watching an air hockey match, I put two fingers in my mouth and let out an ear-piercing whistle.
“Everyone stop! We get it.”
“Really?” Rebel looks totally freaked out. “Because I swear, Kenna, I just told him in the car, right before Draven called. And I only told him because he was close to figuring it out himself—and because I figured the guys should know you’re immune if we’re going to be working with them.”
“Working with them?” I scoff. Yeah, right. Because that’s off to a great start.
“How are you immune?” Draven asks. “I didn’t even know that was possible. Are you immune to all powers or just psy?”
“All powers.” Then I quickly add, “I mean, If Quake causes an earthquake, I could die if something falls on me, but not directly from his superpower.”
“You let me think—” Draven shakes his head. Yet another bud of guilt unfurls within me when I see the look of betrayal on his face.
But then last night’s events rush back at me and the guilt turns to annoyance. “Don’t even bother giving me that look,” I tell him. “You left me tied to a lab table with alarms blaring, after Nitro tried to set me on fire!”
“Not that he could have anyway, since you’re immune!”
“You didn’t know that!”
“Exactly my point!” Draven counters. “I got set on fire trying to save you.”
“I didn’t ask for your help.”
“Wow, that’s an impressive defense”—he rolls his eyes—“if you’re five.”
“Okay, okay! That’s enough!” Rebel interjects when we both pause for air. “Amusing as it would be to watch the two of you duke it out all night, we have more important things to worry about. Like security protocols. And how the hell we’re going to get into the lab.”
Draven and I are panting, jacked up on the adrenaline, primed to go another round. But Rebel’s right. We don’t have time to bicker. I know she’s right, and still it takes every ounce of effort I have not to get right back into it. There’s just something about Draven that gets under my skin, and I can’t stand that—because of Rebel—he got the last word. Especially since his last word was basically calling me a baby.
Jerk.
The only other person I’ve enjoyed arguing with this much was Jeremy, when he’d spout off nonsense—
Holy shit, Jeremy! Technopath and computer wizard extraordinaire. Why didn’t I think of him before?
“I’ve got an idea!” I yank out my phone and start to dial. If anyone can get us past those new security protocols, it’s Jeremy. And while we didn’t exactly part on good terms, I’m hoping he won’t hold our last fight against me.
Chapter 11
It takes twenty minutes and more than a little groveling to get Jeremy to my place.
I’m in the middle of arguing with Draven (when aren’t I arguing with him?) about bringing someone else into the group, when a van rumbles into the driveway. Holding up a hand to keep Draven from retorting—I’m getting the last word this time, ha!—I turn to look through the open garage door just in time to see my ex-boyfriend roll to a stop at the top of my driveway.
Jeremy climbs out of the van. He’s trying to pull off the badass look as usual—ripped jeans, leather jacket, dark sunglasses. I bite my lip and try not to laugh as, next to me, Draven stiffens and I can feel him bracing for a fight of the hero-villain variety.
Clearly some people are buying the act.
I start to tell Draven not to worry—Jeremy might look the part, but he battles with his keyboard, not his nonexistent brawn—but then Dante whispers incredulously to Rebel, “That’s Kenna’s ex?”
My spine stiffens. There’s no reason for him to sound so surprised. Sure Jeremy’s hot, and no, I don’t look like a runway model, but I do have other redeeming qualities. My brain, for one. My quick wit, for another. And most importantly, my ability to listen to even the most ridiculous of Jeremy’s conspiracy theories without laughing out loud, even when I really, really wanted to.
For Jeremy, that’s a critical trait in a girl.
Then again, at least one of his theories is proving to be not so ridiculous after all. During the seven months we dated, I spent hours listening to him go on about secret hero experiments, experiments I never in a million years actually believed could be true. And yet, here we are.
He is so going to make me eat it on that one.