Unchanged by Jessica Brody Page B

His frozen, terrified face presses against the side of the glass before he slides slowly to the ground.
    I let out a desperate cry as I, once again, thrash under my restraints. “Crest!” I yell. “Get me out!”
    Whatever happened in the three-minute gap between Kaelen’s arrival and mine, I’m the only one who can stop it.
    â€œI know, pearl,” Crest soothes. “I know.” But the misery in her voice tells me she hasn’t a clue what to do, or how to release us.
    â€œWe have to wait for the capsule to engage the sensors,” Killy says.
    With my back still pinned to the seat, I try my best to bang on the glass of the capsule, hoping it may give way, but at this awkward angle, my fist is only capable of making a weak plunk against the synthetic surface.
    â€œWho are they?” I ask Crest, peering at the strangers who have scattered to opposite ends of the platform in an attempt to escape Kaelen’s wrath.
    â€œPaparazzi probably.”
    â€œHow did they know we’d be here?”
    There’s only silence behind me and I know that Crest is shaking her head in stunned disbelief, words escaping her.
    When I peer out at Kaelen again, his hair is tousled, his clothes are slightly askew on his large, muscular frame, but it’s his face that’s the least recognizable of all. Stretched in unbridled rage. His eyes are wild, revealing too much white as he searches for more challengers. But there are none to be found. The rest of the crowd—including Raze’s remaining agents—have backed away, pressing themselves against the perimeters of the platform.
    I can tell from the hunger in Kaelen’s eyes that he wants more. He’s a monster looking for prey. His eyes land on one of the cowering paparazzi in the corner and my chest starts to constrict.
    No, I silently plead. Don’t do it.
    But telepathy has never been one of the languages Kaelen and I are fluent in. He starts to move toward his next victim. Slowly and purposefully. I bang on the glass. “No!” This time I shout it. It’s no use, though. I can’t hear him and he can’t hear me. Not that the sound of my voice would do anything to stop him now. He’s too far gone. I can see that.
    Finally, a whoosh echoes like music in my ears and I feel my restraints loosen. I shove them away from me and bolt through the capsule door the instant it unseals. I’m in front of Kaelen in a nanosecond, positioning myself between him and the man he’s set on destroying. Blocking his path, I place my palm flat on his chest. To my surprise, he stops at my touch. But he doesn’t look at me. His eyes are fixed on his destination.
    The familiarity of his intense gaze crashes into me as I realize I’ve seen this reaction from him before. In a New York City subway station in the year 2032. Kaelen attacked a man he believed was a threat to me. One minute he was perfectly fine, and the next minute he wasn’t. He just kind of … snapped .
    Back then, I didn’t know what to do about it. Fortunately, now I do.
    I press against his shirt with my thumb, fourth finger, and pinkie, like a pianist playing a chord.
    Then I lift all five fingers up and bring down only my thumb.
    Next, I press fingers one, two, four, and five into his chest, followed by two, four, and five.
    In less than a few seconds, I’ve played out two four-letter words.
    CALM DOWN.
    He blinks, his heavy breathing gradually returning to normal, but the fury on his face doesn’t dim. His eyes dart wildly around the station, nostrils flaring, pupils dilated, teeth clenched.
    I keep going. My fingers move fast but methodically, the letters flowing out of me one tap at a time.
    Thumb, index, fourth, pinkie = L.
    Thumb, index, middle = O.
    Thumb, index, middle = O.
    Thumb, fourth, pinkie = K.
    I pause, indicating a new word.
    A.
    T.
    Pause. New word.
    M.
    E.
    Kaelen obeys and turns his hungry eyes to me.