Zach sat alone on the Moonwalk bench, gazing at the Mississippi, visible only by the lights it reflected—a tugboat, a barge, French Quarter businesses along this stretch of the riverside. Most reflective of all was the moon, big and bright.
He’d booked an early flight out. Back to California. Home. His family. All that was familiar..
He linked his fingers. Truth was, he didn’t want to go. Didn’t want to leave this place or the dream he’d held close for so long.
To discover who he was. And why his mother had given him up.
Instead, he’d found out what he was. A half-breed freak. His special abilities a mutation.
A mutation. Of course they were. Hadn’t he’d known that, deep down, always? Instead, he called them gifts. Special abilities.
Parker and his offer of superhero status had played right into that. The man had known exactly what card to turn at every juncture. Of course he had.
His mother’s brother. Uncle Parker. Prick. Lied to him. Manipulated him. His own blood? His only sibling’s offspring? Who did that?
The tipping point: the level at which momentum for change is unstoppable.
Change to what? A world filled with darkness and fear? It was already that. No, Parker and his little band of freaks were just trying to save their own butts. Use him and others like him to save their race from extinction.
Not his race. Not his battle.
Zach swore. He couldn’t chase Mick’s voice out of his head. Her accusations. That he was a quitter. A selfish, self-absorbed child.
A loser.
She hadn’t used that word. But it had been implied. And no doubt, by her thinking, deserved.
Let her think whatever she chose, none of this was about him. A strategy. A war game.
He shook his head. Screw that.
His cell went off. “This is Zach,” he answered.
Not Detective Harris or Agent Harris. Not anymore.
“Zach, it’s me. Angel.”
“Angel? Are you all right?”
“You promised, Zach. You promised you were coming back.”
“I’m sorry, kiddo. There are things . . . going on that you can’t understand.”
“That’s what adults always say when they don’t really care.”
Her words cut deeper than he could have imagined. “I’m sorry you feel that way.”
“I do feel that way. And now you’re one of them for saying it.”
She had been let down by everybody. Including him.
“You can’t quit.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Micki needs you.”
“She’s strong, Angel. Stronger than I am.”
“You’re stronger than you think.”
“I’m sorry.”
“She’s in trouble. I dreamed it.” Her voice quivered. “It’s bad.”
He sat up straighter. “What’s bad? What do you mean?”
“It’s all coming down tonight. She’s at the center.”
“She has lots of protection, How do you know—”
“I saw it. Something weird’s been happening to me. Things that were never clear are now. Pieces, popping into place.”
“Where are you?”
“With her friend, Jacqui.”
He didn’t know Jacqui. Mick had never mentioned any friend, let alone one by that name.
“She has a little boy. He’s really cute. He’s special, too. But she doesn’t know.”
“Angel, you stay safe, okay? Do just what Micki tells you, she’ll—”
“It’s her birthday, Zach. It’s Micki’s birthday.”
He felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. He looked right, toward the brewery complex.
“And she’s there. With him, Zach. The one.”
He got to his feet, heart pounding. “Where is she? What club?”
“I don’t know.”
The lights of Kudzu’s seemed to wink at him.
Micki would be there, at Kudzu’s. She would have made certain of it. Undercover or not. Because of what he’d told her.
Without him. Without the special abilities he brought to the party.
“I’m five minutes from her, Angel. I’ll make certain she’s safe.”
“Don’t leave her, Zach.” She sounded fierce. “It’s your job to protect her.”
“Sit tight. And be very, very careful.”
*
Seven minutes later Zach stepped into the club. A sea of young people. All of them moving with the throbbing music. Flashing lights. The smell of sweat. And sex.
And yet his eyes went straight to Mick. At the center of the dance floor. Arms up, hips undulating. She looked five years younger and outrageously sexy. A form fitting, low cut top. Jeans so snug, they could’ve been sprayed on, tucked into a pair of badass cowboy boots.
Boot which no doubt served as the one place to conceal her weapon. No way Mad Dog wasn’t packing heat.
As he watched, she tilted her head back, neck arching, hands in her hair. To attract. Entice.
It was working. A number of men were dancing with and around her. Hoping to get lucky. Zach shifted his gaze to the bar. Kenny serving drinks, leaning on the bar, flirting with a blond. But every so often, slyly shifting his attention. To Mick. Watching her with those strange, liquid eyes.