Free Wilder by Christina Dodd Page B

unsupervised.” Wagner was six-foot-six, fair and blond, with long arms, long legs, and big fists. He was not a man who encouraged challenge.
    Yet John Powell, the leader of the Chosen Ones, six-foot-five and a man who wielded power with supernatural ease, stood toe-to-toe with him. “Why lock us in? I thought there were guards at the door.”
    Samuel wanted to snort. This whole stupid idea of all of them coming together to free the contents of the safety-deposit box was John’s, and now . . . he had the guts to challenge the restrictions of this top-security Swiss bank?
    Good luck.
    “Yes, of course. Well-trained armed guards. Should any unauthorized person wander through this level, they aim to kill.” Wagner stared unblinkingly at John.
    “Good to know.” John stepped back. “I feel safe.”
    “Exactly our intention. Now I will lock you in.” Wagner gestured at the button on the wall. “When you’re ready to leave, ring that and I will come to release you.”
    Samuel offered his hand.
    Looking a little puzzled, Wagner took it and shook.
    “Thank you, Wagner. It’s always a pleasure to see you again.” Samuel used the moment of contact to make sure that Wagner’s mind was still firmly under his control.
    It was. Wagner had no ulterior motive except to protect the clients of his bank.
    Yet as he shut the door behind him, as the thick steel closed so quietly and the turn of the key in the lock was so final, the Chosen Ones looked uncomfortable . . . except Aaron Eagle, who, as the world’s most proficient thief, had spent more time in closed bank vaults than the rest of them.
    Aaron strolled to the box and fiddled with the latch, then shook his head and backed away.
    Isabelle restlessly rotated her shoulders. “Sammy, couldn’t you have controlled Wagner’s mind and made him leave the door unlocked?”
    Isabelle Mason was Samuel’s wife, the love of his life, with a high-class Boston accent, delicate bones, and exotically slanted blue eyes. She never raised her voice; she never broke a sweat—and oh, God, how could he forget? She was the healer for the Chosen Ones.
    That meant she absorbed injury in order to heal them, and in doing that . . . she absorbed their pain.
    He couldn’t stand to see her hurting. That was why he tried to keep her away from trouble.
    Not that she ever listened to him.
    But he did everything he could to make her happy, so now he said, “I could try. But when it comes to mind control, it’s best to keep it simple, to never go against ingrained behavior—and Wagner’s compulsion to protect the stolen billions in cash and jewels is ingrained in him. I convinced Wagner that we all have the right to be in here. For now, that’s enough.”
    “You’re right.” Isabelle smiled at Samuel, her lips trembling. “Ever since you and I were trapped together, I get a little uneasy underground.”
    He caught her hand and placed a warm, intimate kiss in her palm. In a deep voice that both reminded and enticed, he said, “Some good things occurred while we were trapped together, too.”
    Her smile strengthened. “I know.”
    “Nothing like those good things are going to happen now with the rest of us here,” Aaron said. “Right, Samuel?
Right?
”
    Samuel grinned at his friend. “Right.”
    John Powell, who harnessed the power of the universe and, as needed, kept the Chosen Ones focused on their goals, took a long, patient breath. “Guys, stop joking around. Let’s see if this works.”
    They stood in a circle—actually the shape of the vault created more of an oval—and one by one they prepared for the ritual they could only pray would release the contents of the safety-deposit box.
    First their seer, Jacqueline Vargha, joined hands with her husband and their director of security, Caleb D’Angelo. Then Jacqueline joined hands with Aaron, who joined hands with his wife, the antiquities expert and librarian Rosamund Hall. Then Rosamund joined hands with John, and he