Page 34 of Wrath
Nowthatwas unfair. He pointed at his bed.You came back to me last night.
“Yeah, but that was in the same day, and we didn’t actually repeat the—you know—so I’m counting it as one time. Please don’t push me on this.”
Wyatt held his palms out in surrender. Fine. Lifting his hands to rest behind his head, he leaned back on the pillows. It was a pose he knew held maximum visual effect, putting his physique on display. She tried not to gawk, and he loved the heat coloring her cheeks. He would get to the bottom of her resistance. Couldn’t be any worse than his, could it?
She looked everywherebuthim.
He tried clearing his throat, testing the sound. He wanted her attention but didn’t want to—how did she say it?—push her on this.
Misha glanced over at his throaty sound. Once he was sure she watched his face, he asked.What are you doing today?
She laughed and shook her head. “Okay. Small talk. No problems. I’ve got yoga classes today. You?”
He shrugged.
“Okay. Great. Thanks for the chat.” Misha walked to the door, and every atom in Wyatt screamed for him to not let her go, but he was incapable of stopping her.
Just before she stepped through the door, she tossed a glance over her shoulder. “It was nice knowing you, Wyatt. Thank you for everything you’ve done for my family.”
And then she left.
It was nice knowing you?
What the fuck?
A growl of frustration tore from him, and it sounded clear cut and so precise that he shocked himself. He tensed as he brought his finger to run over the ridge of his scar. Was it possible his vocal cords had regenerated enough to return his voice? Rumor had it they were all created with advanced regeneration abilities. Mary and Flint had seen scientists in the lab play around with jellyfish, salamander and starfish DNA, among other things. The man who’d bankrolled their experiment had wanted to test out their regeneration limits by cutting off a limb, but they had been only children. Hearing the ultimatum of the mad man, Mary had moved her plan forward to extricate them from the lab. The day Evan was born, she’d spirited them all away, except it hadn’t gone according to plan. His biological mother had by then realized how wrong the entire experiment was and decided to stay back to burn the place to the ground. Sensing her despair, his eldest sister had run at the last moment to their mother, right when the elevator door was closing. Explosions ripped apart the lab before anyone could retrieve his sister—Daisy. They’d named her Daisy because she’d loved flowers.
None of the seven had tested themselves to see if they could regenerate. Strangely, over the years of their training and combat missions, none of them had lost a limb or even a finger. They were too good at what they were created to do. They’d been shot, stabbed, concussed, knifed across the throat… but the limits of their healing hadn’t been pushed quite to the extent of what he’d recently faced. When Grace operated on Wyatt’s throat after Sara had sliced it, she hadn’t been hopeful he’d regain use of his voice, but there was a chance, she’d said. You never know with the human body.
Did he dare to hope now?
Did it matter?
Wyatt wasn’t sure how long he stayed in his room. It wasn’t until Alek knocked on his door that he got out of bed. The boy wanted to continue his self-defense training, and with nothing else for Wyatt to do, he obliged. Dressing himself, he joined the kid down in their kitchen for what started as a light breakfast, but ended with Wyatt cooking a gourmet egg-white omelet with French toast and fruit. He couldn’t help himself. It had been a while since he’d had a home kitchen all to himself. The only other person awake was Ciocia, who ushered the two of them outside the minute he’d eaten his last spoonful of fruit.
When it was just the two of them on the driveway, he mouthed, “Do you know where your sister has gone?”
Alek shrugged.
Yeah, Wyatt never expected him to know, but it was worth the ask.
Right, then. Time to get physical. Wyatt spent the next few hours teaching Alek how to read his telegraphed attacks before he made them. A drop of the shoulder, a twitch to the side… it all helped the boy learn to use his eyes to the best of his ability. Next were heel palm strikes, groin kicks, elbow strikes. The kid’s appetite for learning was insatiable. He reciprocated by teaching Wyatt a few more hand signs. It made communication between them easier. At the end of their session, he gathered the courage to ask the kid where his sister taught her yoga classes.
The instant he received the address, Wyatt was like a new man. He had a goal and a purpose: he needed to see her.
He showered, ate a delicious ham and dill pickle sandwich in the kitchen made by Vooyek, then donned his helmet and took off on Betty. The coy looks Misha’s family had given him before he left made him realize Alek had told them he’d asked about her whereabouts, and perhaps they’d even registered that she’d stayed in his bed last night. Rather than be embarrassed, Wyatt was more interested that none of them objected, meaning Misha’s resistance to him was not from family judgement. It was something else.
Sixteen
When Wyatt arrivedat the address Alek had given him, he was surprised to find a decently refurbished warehouse in the city center, just outside the prestigious Quadrant, and not far from his family building—Lazarus House.
The warehouse bricks were a blend of orange and red, with cream rendered features running around the windows. Two enormous topiaries sat on either side of a double glass door that displayed the wordsHealth Studiowith white stickers. The street was clean and respectable. No homeless people, no rubbish floating around.
It was a nice neighborhood.
Parking Betty in front of the warehouse, Wyatt tugged his helmet off and tucked it under his arm. Sun glinted in his eyes and he squinted, bypassing the two sweaty women chatting in front of the double glass doors. He strode to the door and pulled. It didn’t budge.
For a minute he thought he’d pulled instead of pushed, but then a woman spoke in a deep smoker’s voice. “Studio is closed, hon.”
