The police station did not match the image I'd conjured from my mind. Maybe too many Law & Order reruns had corrupted me. The attractive Spanish style structure with warm honey tones reminded me more of a country club.
Brad took the lead when we walked in, telling the clerk whom we were there to see. Drake and I sat on a bench against the wall and waited.
'Are you nervous?' he asked.
"Yes. What if they don't believe us? What if they lock us up?"
He squeezed my hand. 'Even if they don't believe us, we aren't committing any crimes. Don't worry, we'll be fine.'
Brad sat down on the other side of me, sandwiching me between the two of them. "My contact is on the phone right now. It'll be a few minutes."
I clutched at my purse. Despite the class of the building, the police station still teemed with some interesting characters.
A guy dressed as an attractive woman sat across from us, tapping his—her?—foot impatiently and holding a bag to his chest.
A woman wearing nothing but an elastic, red body suit, with so many holes it revealed more than it covered, walked by in handcuffs, escorted by a young officer in uniform. She stumbled on her stilettos, but I caught her arm and helped her back up.
She gave me a blank, glassy-eyed stare. 'Need some... gotta get some... body aches... hurts... burning... pain... need to get out of here....'
Her sunken cheeks and emaciated form made me shudder. Before, I might have passed judgment, but now I understood what it was like to come off something like that. Granted, my addiction had been forced on me, but detox would have been very hard if I'd had access to the drugs my body craved.
"Oh shit!" The guys exclaimed in unison. Two elbows jabbed me at the same time.
"Hey, watch it!"
Drake's face fell. "Look at the television, Sam. We've got to get out of here."
I looked, and immediately wished I hadn't. My face stared back at me from a picture taken at Rent-A-Kid earlier that year. A perky newscaster smiled as she read from the teleprompter. "Sam is a troubled runaway who escaped from an institution early last week, and is mentally unstable, delusional, and considered dangerous. She is in need of medication and treatment immediately. If you see her, please call this hotline at 1-800-555-1211. There is a $10,000 reward for any leads that result in her apprehension."
Drake grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the building. The Southern California heat hit me hard after being in the air-conditioned office. My stomach lurched, and I spun toward the manicured lawns to empty it. God, I hate throwing up.
Brad cleared this throat. "We've got to go. Can you walk? We need to get to the car before anyone sees you."
***
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.