AN INCOMING MESSAGE from Victoria instructed us to meet Riley Wyld at the Giraffe, a pub in an area of London known simply as the Slums. Being mid-afternoon London-time, the pub was sparse, with only a handful of patrons drinking mugs of ale and eating steaming bowls of something that smelled much better than it looked. Admittedly, the aroma was enticing, though, and I was even betting the chunks of meat were real—not some kelp-based substitution flavored to taste like chicken or whatever.

When the eight of us walked through the front door, all four heads in the Giraffe turned and every eye stared as though we were the main attraction at a freak-show carnival. Maybe we were. I wasn’t sure how many Talents Londoners encountered on a daily basis; for all I knew, we were a rare sight.

I spotted Riley Wyld immediately. His power called to me from the moment I entered the establishment, and even if he hadn’t been the only patron under fifty in the bar, I’d have known him instantly.

Riley was not what I was expecting. He was tall and slim with vibrant red spiky hair that stuck out from his head like porcupine quills. By comparison, the color made Penny’s orangey-red locks look downright dull. Even as accustomed as I was to the extraordinary eyes most Talents had, I still found Riley’s bizarre. His irises were iridescent flames that twisted and spun, changing color every time he titled his head. Still, what I found most intriguing about the tipster had nothing to do with his appearance. No, it was the sheer power that emanated off of him in waves, so stifling the effect was near suffocating. Even though the British apparently didn’t classify the Talent levels like TOXIC had, Riley was easily an Elite.

“Riley Wyld?” I asked, taking the lead as my team filed in behind me.

“Talia?” he asked, extending a hand to shake.

“Yeah. I hear you have some information to share with me.”

Riley glanced around uneasily at my friends, who were now surrounding the bar stool he was sitting on. Apparently he hadn’t counted on an entourage accompanying me to this meeting. An older gentleman stood behind the bar wiping pint glasses with a dirty dishrag. The man’s eyes were glued to our group.

“I do. Um, would you and your mates care for something to eat or drink?”

“No,” Erik said shortly. “We’d care to get down to business.”

“Right, um, if it’s alright with you, I’m just going to flip the ‘Closed’ sign on.” Riley gestured to the doorway we’d just come through. “England’s not quite the same as America, it’d be best for us to have some privacy.”

The setting didn’t feel like a trap to me, but I glanced at Erik to get his read on the situation. He nodded curtly at Riley, who hopped off his barstool and scurried over to the door.

The rest of us moved towards a high-top in the back corner next to the bar. After grabbing chairs from nearby tables, the nine of us were seated and ready to begin the interrogation. Strategically, I’d placed myself directly across from Riley so that I would in the best position to ascertain the truth. While eye contact was not necessary for my powers to be effective, it was a great way to spot a lie without delving into his mind. Erik was seated on one side of Riley, with Brand on the other. From our limited intel on the tipster, there was no reason to believe he was dangerous. Yet, caution was never a bad thing.

I’d intended to skip the pleasantries in favor of getting down to the real reason we were here; I only wanted to find Kenly, I had no interest in making new friends. Unfortunately, Brand had other ideas. He began by introducing each of us, as if it really mattered that Riley was now on a first-name basis with each member of our team. Admittedly, this small gesture did put Riley at ease, the worry lines on his face smoothing visibly.

“How did you come to meet Kenly?” Brand asked after the introductions were over.

“Here, sort of,” Riley answered, indicating the pub. “She began coming round not long after arriving in London. My girlfriend’s family owns the Giraffe. And her granddad, Tug,” he gestured to the man behind the bar, “he realized what she was. You know, a Chrome. She acted a bit dodgy, if you know what I mean? Trying to not call attention to herself. Between those bits, and then hearing her accent, Tug reasoned she was one of the Created the news kept going on about.”

“Why didn’t you report her to UNITED?” Brand asked, without missing a beat.

I glared at him. So not important right now.

Riley glanced down into the mug of coffee he was clenching like a lifeline, once again nervous under all of our judging gazes.

“You know what?” I interjected. “It’s fine. It doesn’t matter now.”

Someone, probably Brand, kicked me under the table. I shoved back with my telekinesis, using just enough force to send Brand tottering backwards. His chair tipped back precariously on two legs before he was able to right himself. I smiled smugly and returned my attention to Riley.

“Don’t worry about that,” I reassured him again. “What happened after you all realized Kenly was Created?”

“We invited her to come live with us,” Riley said.

“Who’s us?” Erik cut in.

Seriously? I thought to myself. Who was leading this interrogation? Evidently, it wasn’t me.

Riley glanced at Erik, shrinking back slightly before seeming to think better of showing his fear. The tipster straightened his spine.

“Me, a girl called Honora, and my best mate, James. We have a flat not far from here,” Riley answered.

“Why did you ask her to live with you?” I asked before someone else could interject.

“A bird like that on her own in the Slums? We were worried about her, wanted to protect her,” Riley said, his tone earnest. “A girl like her, one with such obvious power, fending for herself…it wouldn’t have been long before she was targeted.”

Beside me, Penny opened her mouth to ask a question, but I was starting to feel antsy. We needed to get to the point. I wanted to know about the Poachers. I wanted to know how to find Kenly.

“Targeted by who? The Poachers?” I asked quickly, hoping to fend off any idle chit-chat.

“Well yes, but their lot was just one of our concerns. Not everyone in these parts thinks kindly of us Chromes. And that’s just for us standard sort. The Created?” Riley shook his head. “People hate them.”

“Well you didn’t do such a great job protecting her now did you?” Erik muttered.

A slight blush crept up Riley’s pale cheeks.

“No, mate, afraid we didn’t.”

“How do you know she was taken by the Poachers? Were you there?” I asked.

Thus far, Riley had been extremely forthcoming and prying into his mind hadn’t been necessary. But now that I’d asked the million dollar question, the boy seemed hesitant. I was on the verge of forcing him to answer when he began speaking again. His words came out in a rush, as if he was just as desperate to expel them as I was to hear them.

“James found out the Poachers were hunting for a big auction. He sent word through my girlfriend, Willa, for the rest of us to go back to the flat and stay there. He and Kenly were headed there straightaways, taking a roundabout way so as not to be followed. Only, they never arrived.”

I waited for him to continue, to say something else that might give us a real clue as to Kenly’s whereabouts. But he didn’t. Riley stared at me expectantly, like he thought that those slim shreds of evidence were sufficient to find her.

“Let me get this straight,” Erik began, looking as dumbfounded as I felt. “Kenly and James didn’t show up, and you just assumed they’d been kidnapped by the Poachers?”

“Well, when you put it like that, mate, sounds rather shoddy, doesn’t it? But I’m not dim, I know they have been. James isn’t the sort to just disappear without sending word that they’re alright. And we had a run-in with Jaylen Monroe a couple days back. The Poachers knew about Kenly being Created.”

Exasperated with the slow progression of the conversation, I gave up on chatting and dove into Riley’s mind. His was an easy one to navigate, with few barriers to keep out prying individuals. Like me. Peeling back the layers of his most recent memories, I didn’t have far to travel before I came across the encounter with Jaylen Monroe—whoever that was.

Unfortunately, I quickly learned exactly who Jaylen Monroe was. Not just any Poacher lackey. He was the son of man that Riley thought of only as the Duke. The Duke was the head of the entire organization. Everything that happened with the Poachers was on his orders—from the selection of targets, to the kidnapping plans, to authorizing permissible buyers.

Unaware of my new tactics, my friends were still questioning Riley. As they asked him for specifics about Jaylen and the rest of the Poachers, it made sifting for answers even easier. Though Riley was only divulging a small percentage of his actual knowledge about the organization, he had no intention to deceive us. It seemed that he honestly didn’t know what was important and what was not. He also didn’t seem to realize how ill-informed my group was when it came to the Poachers. Angus aside, the rest of us were clueless. So even the seemingly inane details were important in my eyes.

“Wait,” I interjected, cutting off Brand midsentence. Unaware of my mental British invasion, Brand shot daggers my way for interrupting him. I considered tipping his chair completely over this time, but a stiff mental rebuke from Erik stopped me.

“Come on, Tals. Not now,” Erik sent. “Stay focused.”

Slightly taken aback, I met my boyfriend’s churning eyes across the table. He’d either been in my head while I’d been in Riley’s, or he was also exploring the boy’s mind, wading through the thoughts and memories. Regardless of which one, Erik knew what I was about to say. Levelling my gaze at Riley, I readied to gauge his reaction.

“James Wellington is from one of the Poaching families?” I demanded.

Riley’s eyes went wide, the flames morphing into a raging inferno that seemed to leap from his irises and across the table to burn my skin.

Damn, the kid really was powerful.

“James isn’t one of them.” Riley’s tone was hard as granite. “I know what you’re thinking. He’s not a bloody traitor. He would never, never, turn another Chrome over to those bastards.”

Even if I hadn’t been inside Riley’s head, there was no doubt he was telling the truth. Flashes of disjointed memories danced through his mind. James telling Riley about his messed-up childhood. How his family disowned him for being Talented. How he’d lived on the streets, barely surviving. How he’d been caught by the Poachers not long after, only released after a girl named Bryn intervened on his behalf.

“Who’s Bryn?” Erik and I asked in unison, leaving little doubt that we were both taking liberties with Riley’s private thoughts.

The poor kid put on a brave face, pretended as though having the two of us rifling through his memories wasn’t giving him a heart attack. But I knew better. We’d terrified him. Riley had never encountered the likes of Erik and me before. And he was positive he didn’t care for our Talents.

“She’s James’s sister,” Riley said with impressive calm.

“Can you get in touch with her?” I demanded. “Can she help us find out where this auction is being held?”

Brand, Frederick, Henri, Angus, and Janelle were clearly lost by this point. Penny was the only other one who understood what was going on. But only because she was also eavesdropping on Riley’s thoughts.

“No, love, afraid not,” Riley answered, feeling genuinely sorry. “I haven’t a mind as to where she is, it would take some sorting. And we don’t have time for that. The auction is tomorrow, according to my sources.”

With his discouraging words, I deflated. For a minute there, I’d been hopeful that Bryn would be the key to find Kenly. From Riley’s mind, I knew he was telling the truth. He had ideas about how to find Bryn Wellington, but tracking her down might take days. And we didn’t have days. Kenly didn’t have days. Since I was still tuned in to Riley’s thoughts, I learned who his “sources” were. There was a network of freedom fighters in London who worked behind the scenes to keep Chromes from being nabbed by the Poachers, since law enforcement was perfectly happy to pocket some extra cash for looking the other way.

Another name floated across Riley’s mind: Willa.

“Your girlfriend?” I asked. “How can she help?”

Just then, my communicator beeped. Annoyed with the interruption, I swore and checked the display. No surprise, it was Victoria.

In her classic style, the message was brief and to the point.

Status update?

I pressed ignore, cringing at the firm lecture I’d surely endure for not responding immediately. But seriously, the woman had the worst timing.

Evidently Riley was growing accustomed to having someone voice his thoughts, because he didn’t bristle at my question.

“She’s a Viewer. She’s been tracking Kenly and James ever since they didn’t come home last night.”

Unable to help myself, I stared at Riley for a stunned second with my mouth agape, speechless. This kid had to be joking. He couldn’t have led off with that fact?

Erik felt the need to state my opinion, one he shared, for the group.

“That might have been a good piece of information to share when we first asked how you knew Kenly and your friend were missing,” he grumbled.

Riley stared down at his hands guiltily.

“You’re right to be cross, I should have told you. It’s just…I was hoping to keep her out of this mess.”

He hesitated, but then wisely continued before we went diving back into his brain ourselves.

“You see, Willa’s gifts don’t work quite like most Viewers, probably not like those you are all accustomed to. She more feels people more than sees them. At first, she felt nothing. Which probably means Kenly and James were drugged. But then….” He shuddered involuntarily. “Well, let’s just say Kenly’s scared. Terrified even.”

“But alive?” I pressed. “Kenly is alive?”

“Definitely,” Riley agreed.

“What about this James guy? How is he?” Henri asked. He’d been quiet to this point, though not disengaged. Knowing Henri as I did, he was probably cataloguing each word Riley said and determining the best way to use the information.

“James is bloody pissed off. And gutted, over not protecting Kenly. Maybe a bit scared, as well,” Riley said, a pained grimace accompanying the admission as if he was somehow betraying James by telling us the guy was smart enough to understand the fate he was facing. “But mostly angry,” Riley loyally added.

Feeling stupid for having not considered the possibility before, I looked first to Erik, then Penny, and then Frederick. All three were capable of Viewing. Frederick, the only natural-born Viewer of the three, was the best bet. Then I remembered that Frederick had never met Kenly. Strong as he was, he might not be able to track her without a reference of some sort. In the past he’d found people with as little to go on as a photograph, but it wasn’t like we had one on hand. Frustrated, I wracked my brain for other ideas.

“Do you want me to try?” Erik sent.

Hesitantly, I debated his offer. Erik really didn’t need the added stress it would cause. Viewing was pretty foreign to him, and he’d been unable to get a good handle on it. Which, of course, further aggravated my already tense boyfriend.

“Really, Tals, it’s fine. I can give it a try.” Erik added. “I just need to be somewhere I can concentrate.”

“Are you sure?” I asked, torn between my worry for Erik and my fear for Kenly.

“Of course,” he replied, giving me a small, reassuring smile.

“Yeah, okay. Let’s finish up with Riley, have him go get Willa, and then you can try,” I sent back.

While Erik and I were carrying on our private conversation, the real one had ceased to exist. Silence had fallen over the table, and everyone was watching us, waiting for me to decide the next move. Even Brand had finally acquiesced to my leadership role, aware that I held a lot more information than he did.

“Where is Willa? We’ll need her. You say the auction is likely to take place tomorrow? That’s a tight deadline, but we should be able to make something happen,” I said, already mentally tabulating all of the red tape that needed to be cut to pull off this mission in such a short timeframe.

“She’s here,” Riley announced.

Stupidly, my eyes darted around the pub, searching for a girl I’d somehow missed when we walked in.

“In the back,” Riley added. “I’ll get her.”

With that, Riley slid off of his chair and headed towards a door that lead to the kitchen.

“What are we missing?” Henri asked, as soon as he was gone.

I gave them a quick rundown on what I’d found in Riley’s head. Most of it they’d already surmised from our conversation. Suddenly, everyone was talking at once.

“It’s not a lot to go on,” Janelle hedged.

“We don’t have enough intel,” Penny added.

“Do you think Victoria will sanction a rescue?” Henri asked doubtfully.

“Do you have a picture of Kenly? I’ll try to view her,” Frederick offered.

“I should check in with the council, I reckon,” Angus pronounced, already pulling out his communicator.

“Hold on guys,” I said, raising my voice to be heard over the din. I held up my hands, in a signal to quiet the barrage of questions, suggestions, and comments flying at me from every mouth in the vicinity. Taking a deep breath, I tried to calm the swirling tide in my stomach.

“Angus,” I began, once I could hear myself think. “You call Victoria and let her know that we are positive Kenly was abducted.” I met Erik’s turquoise eyes across the table. He nodded in response to my unasked question. “Tell her we can locate Kenly. Ask her to authorize a rescue attempt.”

“Tell her we’ll need sufficient backup,” Brand added. “We,” he gestured around the table, “won’t be enough.”

Angus looked to me for confirmation, which sent Brand’s blood pressure soaring. Nodding to Angus, I stifled an inappropriate smile. Yes, pissing off Brand Meadows was always a bonus, even in the direst of circumstances.

“I agree the intel is lacking,” I said, facing Penny now. “But I can’t just….”

Unsure how to finish the sentence, I trailed off.

“I know,” Penny said. “I agree. We have to try.”

While Angus stepped away to call Victoria, the rest of us began talking strategy. Being military-minded, we all had the same plan: brute force assault. We wanted to storm wherever the auction was being held and rescue as many Talented and Created as possible. The finer details, like how UNITED would handle the influx of Created into containment, were dismissed in favor of the more immediate issues. Rescue. As far as I was concerned, dealing with the refugees was UNITED’s problem, not mine.

Unfortunately, all of our strategic planning went out the window as soon as Angus reported back from his conversation with Victoria. Apparently the councilwoman thought storming in was too obvious. She’d made it clear that it should only be used as a last resort. Instead, Victoria wanted us to go the undercover route, posing as buyers at the auction. Angus also passed along an irate message from Victoria to me about not ignoring her messages, and an order to call her immediately.

That was sure to be a fun conversation.

Because I did need Victoria’s help to pull off the mission, I slid off my barstool to step aside and obey the summons. Surprisingly, the councilwoman did not bite my head off the moment she answered. Instead, she instructed me to take the team to a safe house and await further instruction. Evidently some lackey of hers was sending the coordinates to my communicator as we spoke. Then she bit my head off. With a sigh, I braced for her barrage.

“I am giving you a lot of leeway, Agent Lyons,” Victoria barked. “A decision that not every member of the council agrees with, as you well know. Not to mention the fact that you have Agents Kelley and Crane with you. They are both supposed to be under close, reliable supervision. I do not think I need to tell you—”

Though I’d planned to let her spout her tirade without interrupting, we were wasting valuable moments. With my nerves already frayed from my impatience to find Kenly before she was sold as a Talent slave, my temper was shorter than I am.

“I get it, Victoria,” I cut in. “I was in the middle of an interview. I am sorry I ignored your call. I’d say it won’t happen again, but we both know I can’t guarantee that. You put me in charge because you believe that I am capable of handling things, so please just let me.”

No reply came for several long moments, making me check to see if the connection was still intact. It was. Crap. Silence from Victoria was never a good thing. Had I overstepped my bounds? Had I finally pushed her over the edge? Was a team of UNITED agents about to shoot me full of tranquilizers and haul me off to Vault?

“You know, Agent Lyons…against all odds, I do believe I was right about you,” the councilwoman began.

That was probably not a good thing.

“You are proving to be a more than adequate leader. It pains me to admit it, but you have real potential.”

I snorted, picturing Victoria choking on the compliment she’d just paid me.

“Now, take your team to the safe house. There is a large wall screen in the conference room. As soon as you arrive—and I do mean as soon as you arrive, not after you’ve had time to explore, raid the kitchen, or feed Erik’s libido—you and every member of that team are to call me so that I can brief you on the plan.”

Most of what she said faded into the background, but the comment about Erik reverberated. Hating myself for giving in to embarrassment, I blushed what was surely a deep shade of crimson. Seriously, every drop of blood in my body seemed to pool in my cheeks. Victoria acted like Erik and I were just some ridiculous teenagers who found it impossible to keep our hands off of each other. That was so not the case.

Erik was barely even a teenager anymore.

“Natalia?”

Lost in thought, I’d tuned out Victoria and the rest of her directives. She’d obviously said my name several times, since she rarely called me Natalia. Victoria only resorted to my first name when she was exasperated.

“I’m here,” I said quickly. “Sorry.”

The councilwoman’s eye roll transcended the vast physical distance between us.

“I will call you the moment we arrive. We will call you the moment we arrive. I was planning on taking Riley and his girlfriend, Willa, with us. I think they can help with the rescue.”

“Fine. Just remember they are civilians, not trained fighters. Their safety will be your responsibility,” Victoria said.

“I understand.”

“I am also sending another team to the safe house, other members of the taskforce. Do you have any requests? They will be part of the covert operation, and therefore working closely with you and yours.”

“Whoever you want is fine,” I said, attempting to be agreeable until I thought better of it. “Just not Olenginski, if that’s okay. That guy has no love lost for the Created. He might screw up the mission on purpose.”

“I do agree with you there. Agent Olenginski is not quite right for this assignment. In fact, after his little outburst this morning, I am reconsidering whether he is right for the taskforce at all. I will make my selections shortly and the agents will be at the safe house by late this evening.”

“Sounds good. Talk to you soon,” I replied.

“Goodbye, Agent Lyons.”

In anticipation of a reprimand from Victoria, I’d stepped outside to call the councilwoman. Being chastised in front of my friends didn’t bother me—if I was being honest, it happened rather frequently—but I hated giving Brand the satisfaction. If he’d heard Victoria’s side of the conversation, there would have been no room on the hovercraft for Riley and Willa with Brand’s big head along for the ride.

When I turned around to head back inside, though, I had an audience. Janelle, Henri, Frederick, Angus, Brand, Riley and two girls were huddled by the door to the Giraffe, all staring at me with obvious curiosity. Penny and Erik were also with the group, wearing matching smirks. They’d evidently heard both sides of the conversation.

“How much time do you think Victoria spends wondering about our sex life,” Erik sent. “Must be a lot if she knows how often my libido needs to be fed.”

My blush returned with a vengeance.

“Yeah, well, looks like you’re going to be hungry for a while, buddy. I have strict orders to put you on a diet.”

Erik laughed out loud and my heart melted. It was so rare for him to laugh these days, genuinely laugh, that the sound was music to my ears. Humiliation was a small price to pay if it meant I heard that melody more often.