Ultraviolet ✔️

22.1

Chapter Twenty-Two

After walking around the city for quite some time, I headed back up to the room to take a hot bath while Joel picked up our food from the restaurant downstairs.

The city had been beautiful. There was always something no one could replicate about the intricate union of people in every walk of life, the various buildings and businesses and artwork to be found everywhere. But it was also nice to just hide out in a hotel room, sink into a bubble bath, and just wind down.

As soon as I shut the door, I let out a sigh of contentment. The silence was nice. It was comforting being alone, undisturbed by anyone. I was going to take full advantage of our time here. If I was lucky, I could convince myself into thinking this was just a typical getaway with my amazing boyfriend.

I wrapped myself in one of the hotel towels, holding my fingers under the faucet to make sure the temperature was right. For a few minutes, I lost myself in the smell of lavender bath soap and warm water running through my hands.

The hackers had made no effort to make contact with us, or H2 for that matter. Chief had called while we were out and about to report that if the silence continued any longer, it might be safe for us to return to New York. I didn't believe it, not at first. The possibility that this could all just blow over was more than just surreal. It was something that helped me to relax a little more. I needed good news, and that definitely counted.

As I sink into the hot water, bubbles up to my chin, I let out a deep sigh. My entire body seemingly unclenches. It's a wonderful sensation.

When I hear the door unlock, I lift my head a bit and raise my voice, "I'm just taking a bath, Joel, I'll be out in a few minutes."

Silence. I don't hear him say anything back, so I figure he must not have heard me.

"Joel? Want to join me?"

I expect him to poke his head in and maybe even undress and get in with me. Again, there's no answer. My heart is beating so hard I can feel it in my throat. I'm definitely worried now because it's out of character for him to blatantly ignore me. I'm paranoid by nature, and he's definitely not helping.

"Joel, if you're messing with me, this isn't funny."

I climb out of the tub and wrap myself in a white robe, trying to keep breathing.

I'm overthinking. I have to be overthinking. It's probably just Joel and he probably has headphones in or he can't hear me. I'm okay. It's okay. Nothing is going to happen. Nothing is going to happen. Nothing—

I hear the sound of a gun being loaded and stumble backward, shoving the door shut and turning the lock. I'm struggling to get dressed now, throwing my clothes on as fast as I can. The sound of footsteps comes closer. Just as I've got my jeans buttoned, I hear the sound of breathing right outside the door.

"Somebody help—" I start to scream, but before I can finish, the door is kicked open.

For a second, it swings and hits the wall beside it. My scream is caught in my throat. Frozen. I'm just staring straight ahead as the man enters the room with a pistol in his hand and a near hellish grin on his face.

"Oh, Violet, I've missed you."

I'm looking into eyes I know too well, a face I've seen hundreds of times but never like this. He's not like this. It isn't... it can't be.

"Stan?" I gasp, tears slipping down my cheeks as I try to blink the sight of him away. "No."

He shakes his head, laughing. The gun is still pointed straight at my chest. "Good to see you. You probably don't recognize me, of course. It's amazing what you can do with a healing factor and a few tricks of the mind. You're not the only one with a gift, Violet."

"T-That's impossible," I stammer. "You're older. You're supposed to be older and about to retire."

"Did you really think you were the only person out there who could do things others can't? I waited until the perfect moment to change into a younger version of myself. I wanted to spice things up a bit. I'm glad you still recognized me."

I swallow hard, wishing desperately to shrink and hide. But I can't run. I can't move. He'll put a bullet in me if I even breathe the wrong way.

"The healing ability is excellent," he goes on. "I let myself age all those years knowing it would be brilliant fun to mess with someone's head when the time came for the big reveal. You believed I was everything I had you believe. And that's why it was so easy to keep up the act."

"What do you want from me?" I ask, defeat settling into my chest.

"There are so many out there like us," he tells me. "I know a woman whose daughter can fly. Another boy can move objects clear across the room with his mind. I simply want to find those with gifts and show the world how powerful we can be. But you, Violet, I want you to play God. Countless people will flock to us to find out how they die. Imagine what we could do with that knowledge. Imagine how much profit could be gained. You could have everything."

I shake my head. "No. I don't care if it means you shoot me right here and now. The answer is no."

Stan looks down at his pistol, holding it up for me to see it better. "Recognize this? In Chief's notes, Joel Reed gets shot in the chest with a gun like this. I'd reckon it's tonight. You say no and I'll take you away while we can wait for Reed to come walking in. If that happens, he will most certainly die. You can stop that."

"I won't be a monster," I insist. "I won't be a pawn in your twisted game. My curse is not something I'm going to use to hurt others or for my own sick gain. I won't. You can do whatever you want to me. I'm not going your monster, Stan."

He looks at me for a few seconds, shrugging his shoulders. "Have it your way then, Violet."

The bullet tears through my leg, just above my knee, and the pain is unlike anything I've ever experienced before. It's pure agony. Horrible white-hot tension spreads rapidly as the blue denim of my jeans fades into crimson.

"Your boyfriend isn't perfect." Stan's smile is condescending. "Remember when he shot Kevin Grant to save your life? That's still him killing someone. He's just as flawed as you or me, so don't make this harder than it needs to be. What I want from you isn't bad or good. It's just you using the talents you were born with."

Blood is spurting all over the floor out of the hole in my thigh. I'm on the ground, screaming as loud as I can, trying to crawl away, even if it's a lost cause. "SOMEONE HELP ME!"

"That's enough of that," Stan says, just before his gun collides with the side of my head and knocks me out cold.