Free Leaping by J Bennett Page A

brother
says, but I’m already jerking open the back door, drawn by the faint feel of that
well-known energy.
    I breathe in a thick whiff of piss
when I push my head through the door, but I could hardly care. Rain is propped
up against the other door and belted in place. His slack face tilts forward,
chin resting on his chest. His long legs stretch across the back seat, and I
notice that his left pant leg is cut open to the knee. His shin is mottled in
big, dark bruises, and the limb is already noticeably swollen. He looks
disheveled, his hair flat on one side of his head, his face pale. But he’s
clearly alive. His pale blue aura drifts around his lanky frame, quiet with no
dreams or thoughts.
    “Oh, baby,” I murmur. A part of me
still wants to pummel him even in his vulnerable state, but the rest of me
wants to hug him and kiss him and then hide him away forever in a place with no
trees or stairs or sharp edges.
    “Let me see him,” Chain demands
behind me. Speaking of pummeling someone, Chain is a much more deserving
candidate. But I know beneath his bluster and his stupid superhero fantasy, he
cares about Rain. I step back. Chain leans into the car, and I watch blue
relief ripple through his aura.
    Tarren comes around the other side
of the jeep and pauses a few feet away from me. Always that gap of space
between us. I think Tarren does it instinctually now. He knows that space makes
things easier for me, helps keep the hunger from flaring.
    There are so many things I want to
say to my brother right now. Not say. I want to close that gap between us and
throw my arms around him. Maybe even drop a few tears onto his tin sheriff’s
badge.
    “I’ll take care of the body and the
ones in the back,” he says finally.
    Digging a grave for just one is
hard enough. He’ll be at it for half a day to bury the four we brought along
plus the angel Rain took out.
    “Gabe can stay and help,” I tell
him.
    “No, I can handle it.” Tarren’s
voice inches a shade softer. “He hasn’t seen Francesca in a while.”
    Tarren is secretive about his
thoughtfulness, almost like he doesn’t want to get caught showing his heart.
But it’s there, beating big and loud inside of him no matter how many walls he
puts up around it. He knows all about Gabe’s massive crush on Dr. Lee’s
assistant.
     “You sure?” I ask him. “Maybe one
of the Totem can pitch in.”
     On the outside you wouldn’t be
able to tell that Tarren has only cobbled together a few catnaps in the jeep
over the last few days. He stands just as tall and steady as ever, but I see the
long hours of wakefulness in his aura. The colors are darker, and the glow hugs
closer to his body.
    “I can help.” Chain closes the door
of the jeep. His aura shivers with purple. I get the impression that digging a
grave and disposing of angel bodies with Tarren is Chain’s personal version of
winning the lottery, going to Disneyland, and being elected Emperor of the
Universe on the same day.  
    Tarren turns to Chain, and I wonder
how much my brother intuits. “Thank you, but it’s safer if we limit exposure to
burial sites and disposal techniques across teams.”
    Tarren knows. He’s being extra
careful with his words. Taking as much sting out of his, “Fuck off, I don’t
need you,” as possible. Chain’s face flickers.
    “It’d also be better,” Tarren says,
still in that soft, careful voice, “if we limit contact between our allies.”
    All the growl is gone from Chain’s
voice when he says, “You don’t want us to come with Penguin when your doctor
works on him.”
    “Every new connection is an
additional risk to our contacts,” Tarren says.
    “For when we get captured and
tortured for information…oh wait, that was YOU!” Chain’s fierce gaze is on me.
    I suck in a breath. Touché. But I’m
still heavily tempted to see if I could kick him in the balls before Tarren
restrained me.
    “It’s safer for us and for you,”
Tarren says.
    “You think