Sacrifice
Page 79

Tyler had been lucky. Hunter’s power burst had healed him as well as it had Michael.
“We tried to warn them,” said Chris.
“Warn who?” said Michael.
“The people in the house,” said Gabriel. His face was paler than usual, and he kept glancing at the trail where the Guide had fallen—and where Hunter had vanished into a plume of power and elemental energy. “Nick felt it first—that someone had broken in—”
“I didn’t know it was a bomb,” said Nick. His face was white, too. “I just thought the Guide was after us. We wouldn’t have run if we’d known. We would have helped—”
“It’s not your fault,” said Michael. “I’m glad you ran. I told you to run.”
“We tried to warn the others that someone had broken in, that we were all in danger—”
“Yeah, we tried,” said Gabriel. “But they wouldn’t f**king listen.”
Chris picked up his rage and ran with it. He scowled. “They thought we were trying to run away.”
Michael understood the anger—it was so much easier to deal with than grief, which would sucker punch you when you least expected it.
Hunter had given up everything to save them. And not just them—possibly the whole county. Maybe more. Michael thought of their conversation at Adam’s kitchen table, when he’d told Hunter that he tried to do what his father would have expected of him.
Had Hunter taken that to heart? Had his decision been a direct result of that conversation?
Was this really what Hunter’s father would have wanted? Or was that just what Hunter had believed?
Michael had no idea. And he wasn’t sure it really mattered.
He wasn’t sure he was worthy of the sacrifice.
“How did the Guide know where to find you?” said Michael.
“We don’t know,” said Nick.
“We thought—” Gabriel started, but he stopped himself.
“We thought he’d killed you,” said Chris. “We thought he’d gotten the information out of you somehow.”
Michael realized that while he’d been feeling lost and alone, his brothers had been feeling the same. He shook his head. “They wouldn’t tell me where you’d been taken. Even David didn’t know.”
Shoes crunched on the broken pavement behind him. “Didn’t know what?”
Michael turned to find Marshal Faulkner standing there. He considered lying—but there’d been so many lies and secrets and half truths, and he just couldn’t find the strength anymore.
“How did this guy find them? How did he know which home to target?”
Marshal Faulkner glanced into the ambulance and then back at Michael. His voice was heavy. “Because he was a cop.” He paused. “He knew who to call, what to say, what to ask.”
Of course. Michael didn’t know how to respond to that.
He shifted and looked into the ambulance again. “When can I take my brothers and get out of here?”
“You can’t.”
“What?” Michael stood, and he was so tired and furious and desperate that his powers flared too. He fought to keep the earth still. “Why not? Am I under arrest again? Am I—”
“Calm down. You’re not under arrest. Your friend, Tyler, either. Hannah and Irish have already made a statement. That guy had enough explosives strapped to him that I don’t think we’re going to have too hard a time proving self-defense. That doesn’t mean I don’t have some questions for you, however.”
“I can answer your questions later. I want to get out of here. I want to take my brothers home.”
“Oh yeah?” The fire marshal raised an eyebrow. “Where’s that, Mike?”
Michael took a step forward. “Don’t f**k with me—”
“I’m not.” Marshal Faulkner held his ground. “I’m telling you that there’s a court order in play, and if you want to have any hope of getting custody back permanently—”
“You can’t seriously think I’m going to let them out of my sight again. You failed to keep them safe.”
“So did you. If you’d been up front with me about the danger—”
“I’m taking them out of here.”
“Then you’ll be charged with kidnapping. I’m trying to help you here—”
“Whoa!” Gabriel was suddenly on the ground, pushing Michael back. “Back off, Mike. It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine. You know what we’re dealing with, and—”
“Yeah! I do!” Gabriel shoved him in the chest, some real fury behind it. “We all do! And we dealt with it.”
Michael stared at him, more surprised by the anger than anything else.
“We’re not twelve anymore,” Gabriel said.
“You’re not adults, either—”
“Yeah, well, we’re almost the same age you were when Mom and Dad died.”
Michael didn’t want to fight—but he kind of did. Fighting with Gabriel felt easy, natural, and crowded thoughts of darker things out of his head. “I know how old you are. Maybe you could act like it.”
Chris burst out of the ambulance with a vengeance. “Maybe you could! You don’t have to protect us all the time, Michael. You’re not our father. You’re our brother.”
“Don’t fight,” said Nick. He stepped out of the ambulance, too. “There’s been enough fighting.” Then his eyes met Michael’s. “But I agree with them. We’re not helpless. You don’t have to keep acting like we are.”