AN: This is the third standalone story in The Parker Triptych. All three stories are different fandoms, but use 'the Sentinel trope/crossover' of having a world with known Sentinels with enhanced physical senses who bond to Guides with mental gifts. It's pretty self-explanatory in the story, but feel free to look it up online if you want more explanation. I love stories using Sentinels: the little black dress of fandom.

Warning: Violence, attempted kidnapping, non-explicit sex, murder, crossover character cameos (Rurouni Kenshin, Harry Potter, The Sentinel, NCIS, etc.)


Mother of Sentinels: The Parker Triptych III

By Indygodusk


Chapter 1: It Starts with a Call

"What?"

"Have you ever thought about answering your phone with hello?" Jarod asked.

"Have you ever thought about pretending to be less annoying?" Miss Parker answered, holding the phone against her shoulder with her chin as she put on one pearl earring. "If you can pretend to be literally anything, why not that?"

Just hearing his voice immediately soothed away the lingering headache from her nightmare, not that she'd admit it to anyone. Stupid nightmare. One minute she'd been running frantically through a hospital corridor with her little brother tucked against her shoulder, dodging bullets, and the next she'd been standing in a dojo in Japan practicing Kendo to stave off boredom while her lover, Tommy Tanaka, was busy across the street at a meeting.

The dream dojo perfectly matched her memory of that summer. So did the annoying instructor who'd randomly interrupt her solo practice to offer unwanted advice. "Stop dropping your elbow and pay attention to your surroundings," ordered Kamiya-Sensei, appearing unexpectedly to poke Miss Parker's shoulder and then following up with a painful hit to the thigh. "The Mother of Sentinels should be more observant," she'd scolded.

Kamiya-Sensei had a scar in the shape of a star on her upper chest. The original wound must have been very painful to leave such a deep pattern. When the woman got particularly annoying, Parker used to imagine giving her another painful scar somewhere else.

"I'm nobody's mother," Miss Parker had snapped. "And like I said the last time you showed up, I didn't ask for you to teach me anything. Wakuda-Sensei said I could practice in here. Talk to him if you've got a problem with it."

"The only problem I have is your willing blindness." Kamiya-Sensei took her through a fast series of awkwardly jarring blows with their practice shinai. Miss Parker gritted her teeth and forced herself to react instead of think. The movements became smoother and the strikes more staccato.

"Better," nodded the woman approvingly. "You're ready to take your place and play your part. It's time to wake up, Parker-san." Then her face morphed into the muzzle of a big black bear, roaring, "Wake up!"

Heart racing, Miss Parker had sat bolt upright in her bed with her gun pointing steadily at shadows. Strange that her time in Japan should be haunting her dreams now. She hadn't thought of Kamiya-Sensei in years. Sydney would probably love to psychoanalyze the whole thing, but she refused to give him the satisfaction. Sometimes a dream was a dream and a bear was just a bear.

Jarod laughed, drawing her out of her thoughts. "You know that I try to always tell you the truth, Miss Parker. If I was too polite, you'd never trust me and just hang up instead of chatting."

"I'm about to hang up on you anyways, Jarod. I have much more important things to do than talk in circles with you, like drop off my dry cleaning before work. Unless you feel like making my life easy by walking through the front doors of the Centre today, I still have to submit a report on our current efforts to track you down."

"You could just copy and paste the last one. Everything is still status quo, after all. I'm still running and you're still chasing, unsuccessfully I might add. Besides, there's no need to rush," Jarod added with annoying cheer, "the dry cleaner won't take your designer suits today."

"What have you done now, Pez-head?" she demanded, clasping a gold belt around the waist of her white Chanel suit.

"Haven't you been watching the news? Sentinels and Guides are coming online all over the world in unprecedented numbers, forcing abandoned SG Centers all over the world to reopen and governments to tremble," Jarod answered with a devious smile in his voice.

Dropping her head, Miss Parker groaned in disgust. "Please tell me that my favorite dry cleaner didn't come Online as a Sentinel? There's no way a Sentinel's heightened senses could handle the chemicals and dirty clothes at a dry cleaner. It would overload their sense of smell and touch and send them into a toxic zone out. The universe really does hate me."

In the background of Jarod's call, Parker heard something faint, like the chiming of a clock. It seemed familiar. Focusing, she could suddenly make out voices too. They had a distinctive London accent.

Miss Parker smirked, distracted from her upset. "You're getting sloppy, Jarod. Are you actually in London? Or just a British-themed cafe? I can hear Big Ben and the accent of your moronic neighbors quite clearly."

Suddenly the sounds got quieter as she heard a window slide closed. "You shouldn't have been able to hear that," he muttered in surprise.

"You've caught me," she said, deadpan. "I've come Online as a Sentinel and used my enhanced hearing to spy on your environment. The Centre's no-tolerance policy forced them to fire me, leaving me no choice but to join the cast of the new hit daytime drama, 'The Young and the Restless Sentinel.'"

She waited through a beat of incredulous silence, then added archly, "Or you underestimated me and forgot to be careful. Hmm, which is more likely? There's only one right answer here, Jarod."

Chuckling, Jarod said, "Just for that I should make you drive all the way out to the dry cleaners on your own, but unlike you, Miss Parker, I can be nice. I'll even tell you that I'm not leaving any clues or red notebooks behind this time, so you don't need to waste time bothering to follow up."

Slipping on her white jacket, she let herself smile since no one was watching, "Of course I'll follow up. I don't want you getting too complacent, and I can be nice… to people who deserve it. Unfortunately, that number is quite small."

"If you worked in a nicer place, you'd meet better people," he chided. "As for your dry cleaners, there's a new Guide in the family, not a Sentinel. For every one new Sentinel coming Online recently, there've been three or four Guides. Your dry cleaners will probably reopen in a couple of weeks after they receive training."

Miss Parker sighed with annoyance. "A couple of weeks? Is that really necessary? The blood stains on my Gucci skirt won't wait that long."

"You haven't gotten close enough to chase me in months, so just who's blood is it? One of Raines's minions? Your brother Lyle? A handsy trucker at a gas station?" asked Jarod curiously, though a hint of genuine concern threaded through his words.

"I appreciate that you automatically assume it isn't mine," Parker replied, strapping on her gold watch.

"It usually isn't where you're involved. I've seen your talent for violence first hand, remember?" She could hear the faint creak of Jarod's leather jacket as he leaned against the wall.

"You say the nicest things," she grinned as she buckled on her gun holster. "The blood is actually Broots' fault. Last week the geek decided to stay up all night playing some idiotic video game. He started falling asleep in the lobby while waiting for the elevator and the newest security guard freaked out, called him a zoning Sentinel and tackled him before anyone could stop him."

"Broots can be an annoying little cretin, but he's mine," Miss Parker seethed with remembered fury. "The moronic guard dislocated Broots' shoulder, bloodied his lip, and then refused to let him up as Broots was supposedly violating company policy against Sentinels. Whether it was the guard's own genius or on orders from another player I'm not sure, but he won't be making the mistake of touching my people again."

She scowled. "I should have just shot him. It would've been cleaner. Instead, his face exploded all over my Gucci leather skirt. If the blood doesn't come out, I'm going to HR and having them dock his severance pay for a replacement."

"Poor Broots. Is that why he's been keeping his head down lately?" Jarrod asked. "I haven't seen his usual internet tracks, though I've admittedly been distracted picking up a few new skills."

"I'm sure you'll annoy me with those at some point soon, but no. He got Sydney to approve a two week sick leave while I was distracted. Since the public school's on break right now, he took off with his daughter, Debbie," Parker answered dryly. "They're probably binge watching Star Wars in some dinky Chinese Theater somewhere."

"Oh, I liked Star Wars," Jarod said with boyish delight.

"Ugh, you would," Miss Parker rolled her eyes.

At this point she usually hung up on him or vice versa, but as had often happened in the last few months since their almost-kiss on the Isle of Carthis, she found herself prolonging the conversation. "I'm about to put on my coat and go get coffee. Do you actually have anything useful to say?"

"I was going to do a little more digging, but having you help will make it go faster," Jarod said musingly. "Have you ever wondered why the Centre hates Sentinels and Guides?"

"Probably because they're hard-wired to protect the Tribe and the Centre is all about protecting itself and profiting off the misery of others. It's hard to hide secrets from watchmen with enhanced senses. Besides, anyone latent who worked for the Centre for long would either quit or go dormant because of the shady moral choices involved. That's the way a Sentinel's senses and a Guide's empathy work. What's your point?" Miss Parker snapped, impatient with his insistence on leading her about by the nose instead of just telling her what he'd discovered.

"I think it goes back farther than that," Jarod said softly. "On the Isle of Carthis, I saw anti-SG imagery everywhere. Ocee mentioned that no Guide or Sentinel had come online on the island in recorded history, which stretched back over 400 years. The probability of that being a natural phenomenon is staggeringly low. The day after the news started trumpeting the resurgence of Guides and Sentinels, Mr. Raines reactivated something called Project Lava. I doubt it's a coincidence."

"Great," Miss Parker sighed. "So not only do I descend from a man who killed his whole family, I descend from wackos who managed to twist all their Sentinels and Guides into going dormant. As always, Jarod, you are a ray of sunshine."

"If the sun illuminates the truth, isn't it time to come out of the shadows?" he asked coaxingly.

"They're never going to let me walk away from the Centre and I refuse to cower and hide in those rat-holes you like to inhabit." Miss Parker met her stony-eyed reflection in the window. "I'll stay until I find all my answers. Then they'll kill me or I'll burn everything to the ground."

Closing her phone decisively, she dropped it into her purse, uninterested in further platitudes. At the coat closet she pushed past the black cashmere she'd been planning to wear in favor of a chocolate-colored leather jacket. She'd bought it in England years ago.

The first time she'd worn the jacket, she'd been accosted by a nice young woman who'd somehow mistaken Parker for the girl's mother, who'd bought the same leather jacket. For some reason, she'd taken an instant liking to the teenager, who's mother's maiden name was Parker too. It wasn't an uncommon last name, but when her family secrets became too painful, she'd secretly pretend that her tree of family horrors included a perfectly nice and normal English girl named Hermione with a very fashionable mother. Her little brother Gabriel would probably like Hermione too, especially when he grew up and started asking his own questions. Pulling on the cool leather, Miss Parker smoothed it into place and left for work.

Once inside the Centre, Miss Parker tracked down Sydney. The gray-haired psychiatrist was humming a bit of Bach to himself as he cleaned up the simulation lab. "Don't you have an assistant who does that," she greeted him.

Raising an eyebrow, Sydney finished stacking his cards into a box. "I do, but sometimes letting my mind percolate on things while I tidy can be useful. What's got you visiting so early in the day?"

Blowing out a breath, she folded her arms. "Jarod called with some cryptic comment about the Centre hating Sentinels and Guides. He told me Raines reopened something called Project Lava. I need you to look into it. Jarod's in London, by the way, probably cavorting around with Paddington Bear, but by the time we could get over there he'd be long gone. He said he didn't leave any red notebooks behind and unfortunately I'm inclined to believe him. I have a feeling he's coming back to the states anyways."

Throwing herself into a chair, she added, "After that bout of morning annoyance, both my favorite dry cleaners and coffee shop are closed because someone's come Online and is busy getting trained by the regional Sentinel-Guide Center. Jarod warned me about the dry cleaners, but not the coffee shop, probably on purpose." Miss Parker scowled.

"I've heard that the few SG Centers are overwhelmed with all of the people coming Online, especially since many of them are Guides and in their 30s or 40s. Usually people come online between the ages of 12 to 25." Sydney pursed his lips thoughtfully. "I wonder what changed? I've never had the chance to interact with many Sentinels or Guides, especially not once I came here. You know the Centre discriminates against them."

"And just why is that, Syd?" Miss Parker asked moodily. "I know my father hated them, but I've long suspected that my mother was a latent Guide."

"It wouldn't surprise me." Sydney smiled nostalgically. "Your mother was an intuitive and compassionate woman. Everyone was drawn to her."

"But as far as I know, she never came Online. I wish Broots hadn't scampered off." She began pacing. "Lyle and Raines have been too quiet lately. I vaguely remember my father mentioning an old project that would protect our family from the 'corruption and primitive instincts of Sentinels.'" She quoted. "I wouldn't be surprised if it was this Project Lava."

"Broots will be back in a week. You could also try getting more information from Jarod the next time he calls," Sydney said delicately. "He does have a way of ferreting out Centre secrets."

"Or I could use what I discover to set a trap for him and end our game of cat and mouse once and for all," she said archly.

"If that is what you want, Miss Parker," Sydney said easily with an annoying little smile.

"Of course it's what I want," she snapped. "Look through your old notes from the summer I turned twelve, right before my first trip to Japan. That's when I remember my father mentioning it." After receiving his agreement, she stalked back to her office, once more nursing a headache.

Several days later, she looked up from her desk to find Sydney hovering in the doorway. Miss Parker sighed. "I know that face. Come on in and shut the door, Syd. I just swept the office for bugs and made a pot of coffee if you want some."

"You aren't drinking too much caffeine, I hope," he said, picking up a delicately curved ivory teacup and filling it halfway. "You know it's bad for your ulcer."

Waving away his words, she answered, "I gave up my cigarettes for that thing. I only brought the pot in until my barista comes back from Kumbaya SG Camp. Don't nag."

After taking a few bracing sips of the gourmet coffee, Sydney put his cup down on her desk and leaned forward. "I found something in my notes. The summer you turned twelve, your father temporarily activated Project Lava. It only ran for one day. Half the building left early complaining of headaches, nausea, and anxiety. Jarod became so sick and uncharacteristically violent he had to be restrained and sedated. I vaguely remember feeling the evil of this place pressing down on me heavily that day. I left promptly and self-medicated at a local bar until drunk enough to pass out."

"But what is Project Lava?" she asked keenly.

Sydney shook his head. "I couldn't find out, but I was hoping you might remember yourself with a bit of prompting. In the DSA I watched of Jarod's simulation that day, I saw you and Mr. Parker in the background. You mentioned a familiar name." He handed her a disk.

Lips pressed thin, she started the black and white video. In the shadows near the back of the room, she saw her twelve year-old self arguing with her father. "But Daddy, you said we'd go practice our Japanese in a real Japanese restaurant today. Why'd we have to come back into the Centre?"

"And we'll still go and do that later, my Angel, but first I need you to help out with a project first," Mr. Parker said impatiently.

"With Jarod?" she asked with poorly hidden excitement.

"No, with Bobby," said Mr. Raines curtly as he walked up. "I have him locked up on SL-27 getting ready for Project Lava. He's almost fully Online, but I've convinced him to cooperate."

Young Miss Parker shrunk back against her father. "There is no SL-27 and- and Online like a Sentinel? I thought they were all bad."

"They are," Mr. Parker answered, "but Bobby won't be a Sentinel for long. You've been having some strange rashes lately yourself, sweetheart. This will be good for you."

Mr. Raines stepped gestured impatiently. "Let's go."

"I don't think I want to, Daddy," she said, setting her jaw mulishly and crossing her arms.

"That wasn't a suggestion. Follow Mr. Raines, unless you're choosing to disobey your father?" growled Mr. Parker.

Resistance faltering beneath his glare, young Miss Parker's head drooped. "No, Sir," she said with forced meekness, falling into step as they left the room. The video stopped.

"I don't remember that," Miss Parker whispered. "I remember Daddy promising to take me out to a Japanese restaurant before our trip, but he never actually did. I would have remembered helping out Raines though, I've always found him creepy and vile. Not to mention the fact that I don't remember meeting anyone named Bobby as a child." Her voice dropped, "I remember all of the other children destroyed by this place. You know who that has to be, don't you?"

Sydney sighed, "Bobby is what they called Mr. Lyle in his foster home as a child. I wonder if they suppressed your memory somehow? We could try hypnosis," he suggested.

"Jarod's the lab rat, not me," she refused, getting up to pace impatiently. "We need Broots to get back and search the mainframe for us. Project Lava certainly sounds like something to suppress Sentinel gifts. Could Lyle have actually come Online as a child? He's certainly creepy and evil enough to go dormant. However, I've met dormant Sentinels before and he just doesn't give off the same, broken-Sentinel vibe."

"No, I have to agree," Sydney said. "But you're ignoring something else your father mentioned. Do you remember having rashes that summer?"

Grinding her teeth, Miss Parker leaned against the wall. "I had allergies as a child, who doesn't? That summer I became fascinated with the ocean and went swimming almost every day. It dried out my skin in a few places. When I went back to boarding school, it got better."

"Could you have been coming Online as a Sentinel?" Sydney probed gently.

Miss Parker raised her eyebrows with incredulity. "Leaving aside the fact that female Sentinels are extremely rare, can you honestly see me as a Sentinel? Protector of the tribe and champion of justice?"

Tilting his head to the side, Sydney gave a strange half-smile. "Yes, actually."

Shaking her head, Miss Parker went to her desk and ejected the DSA. "If I didn't know better I'd suspect you doctored your coffee when my back was turned. You're either delusional or drunk, Syd. I'm more likely to become Mary Poppins to a gaggle of schoolchildren than I am to become a Sentinel."

He grinned and shrugged. "I must admit that both images are infinitely amusing, though you have been spending more time with your little brother lately."

"Gabriel's not some random annoying kid, he's family." Miss Parker shrugged and looked away. "He's also the only other person on the planet who misses my father. Mr. Parker probably wasn't Gabe's biological father either, but I'm still claiming Gabe as my brother. He's the only family I'm willing to acknowledge in this place. Lyle and Raines don't count."

"It's admirable, I'm just surprised you chose to adopt him," Sydney said.

Miss Parker grimaced. "When Daddy died they almost gave Gabe to Lyle," they both shuddered. "I had no option but to take custody. Gabe's still living in the old house with his nanny Sharon for now. She's annoying but competent. I got Sam to move in to provide security. You know Sam deserves better than to stay some random Sweeper cleaning up the Centre's messes. His loyalty to me is absolute. I need someone like that to watch Gabe for me.

"Your mother would be proud of you for looking after Gabriel," Sydney encouraged.

"I'm trying to get him and his nanny moved into my house permanently, but the stupid woman is resisting. If Gabe didn't like her so much, I'd fire her." Miss Parker frowned.

"But then you'd have no one to look after the child while you were busy," Sydney reminded her.

Miss Parker got an idea. "Broots' daughter Debbie's getting older. Maybe she could watch him. I'd pay more than the minimum wage from the local greasy spoon."

"But what about when she goes off for college like you've been pushing her to do? You'd have to restart your search and disrupt young Gabriel's life all over again," admonished Sydney.

Flicking her fingers, she dropped back into her chair. "Fine, I'll leave her be for now." Staring off into the distance, she absently scratched at her wrist, "I just wish I knew if Project Lava was something that's going to burn me."

"I'll let you know if I find out anything else," Sydney said, then paused. "Is it worth asking Lyle if he remembers anything about Project Lava?"

Scratching her wrist one last time, she turned to show it to Sydney, "Just the thought of it is giving me hives. Lyle won't tell us anything unless it benefits him. Besides, he's probably helping Raines with it." Tilting his head in acknowledgement, Sydney left.

The following Monday, Broots finally returned to work. When Miss Parker blew into his office, he didn't even jump. He seemed strangely Zen.

"Did you start smoking weed on your break or something? You're never this chill. You'll fail your employee drug screening and then Debbie will have to drop out of school to put you into rehab," Miss Parker mocked.

"Debbie's fine," Broots said, looking strangely nervous for a moment.

"Wait," Miss Parker turned to face him squarely, "I was teasing. She's not really smoking marijuana, is she?"

"No, of course not," Broots said defensively. It seemed honest, so she let it go. He was a terrible liar.

"Is your shoulder feeling better?" she asked abruptly.

Broots smiled in surprise, "Thanks for asking. It's occasionally sore, but much better than before. I appreciate you standing up for me by breaking that guy's jaw." Miss Parker waved away his thanks.

Broots continued, "Marsha in accounts told me that they fired him before he could quit and try to claim damages for excessive force. Billy and Jerome, who usually man the front desk, also sent me a nice card saying sorry about the incident. Billy took the day off for his daughter's dance recital and Jerome was helping Monique from housekeeping carry a tray of banana cupcakes for Sun Li's birthday party so his hands were full. Everyone is even more afraid of you than before, though Monique offered to make you banana cupcakes in thanks because she thought the new guy was a sexist, prejudiced pig who deserved what you gave him and more."

Shaking her head, Miss Parker said, "You can stop rambling now. Also, tell your little friend no cupcakes."

"Yes, Miss Parker," Broots said. Then he looked left and right obviously. "Sydney said you had something for me to look up for you? Something secret?"

Leaning a hip against his desk, she looked down at him. "I need you to look up information on a Project Lava. Mr. Parker, Raines, and Mr. Lyle are all involved. We think the Centre figured out a way to suppress Sentinels and Guides."

Broots jerked in surprise and went pale. "That's illegal and unethical! Also impossible, I thought."

Raising an eyebrow incredulously, Miss Parker said, "This is the Centre. We specialize in illegal, unethical, and impossible, remember?" Blushing, Broots nodded his head. Miss Parker gave him a copy of the video from Sydney as a starting point and then left him to work.

Sneaking through the bombed out remnants of sublevel-27 a few days later had not been on Miss Parker's list of thing to do. At least she'd worn her favorite scarlet silk Chanel skirt and matching three inch heels yesterday and opted today for a charcoal pantsuit and boots. Boots made it easier to sneak and the dark pantsuit cleaned better.

However, it wasn't as dirty and abandoned down here as this level of horrors should be. Broots had made a new friend in the lunchroom who'd supposedly seen men with hardhats headed to a level that wasn't supposed to exist. Considering that debris had been pushed back against the walls and new lights had been strung up, she put away her flashlight and grimly conceded that the rumors were true.

Suddenly she heard voices and the stomp of boots. Miss Parker ducked back into a shadowed room missing a door. Heat-twisted bedframes with stirrups and dangling restraints occupied one wall. She refused to let herself picture what they'd been used for.

A party of workmen clomped by. They smelled like they hadn't bathed in days. Wrinkling her nose, she clamped a hand over her face and breathed shallowly. "I can't wait to get to the bar and relax. The game's on tonight and there's a beer with my name on it waiting for me," one of them shouted. You'd think they'd try to be a little quieter on the 'secret' level.

"I hear you," his friend replied loudly. "At least it's quitting time. Just a few more weeks and we'll see the back of this creepy job."

"And good riddance. If the money wasn't so good…." They kept complaining as they made their way to the exit, but she stopped paying attention before her brain started appreciating tractor pulls and daisy dukes. Miss Parker waited a few more minutes for any other stragglers to leave. Then she came out and continued her search.

Something at the end of the hall was tweaking her memory, a smell more than anything, something faintly sulphurous that made her stomach roil queasily. Some horrifying memory scraped at the edges of her consciousness, staying just out of reach. Because it made her want to run away, she forced herself to go forward.

At the very end of the hall, the workers hadn't made much progress. Miss Parker had to duck beneath several collapsed girders to reach a blank stretch of wall covered with scorch marks. Although there weren't any lights back here, she found herself seeing just fine in the shadows. Something was here, she could feel it.

After examining the wall, she finally found faint scrapes in one corner of the wall from a crowbar. Digging her fingers into the marks, Miss Parker pulled, trying to ignore the splinters. The entire wall abruptly swung out with a loud screech of rusty hinges.

Wincing, she pulled her hands down from her ringing ears and drew her gun. If she focused, she could see the entire length of the hallway. Nothing disturbed the silence except the loud buzz of the hanging electric lights in the repaired section. She hadn't noticed it at first, but now it sounded like a beehive. Ignoring the gathering headache, she turned back to see an old, iron banded door that looked like it belonged in an English manor house.

Miss Parker remembered this door. She remembered wanting to run away and the heavy hand of her father pushing her along. Sweat beaded on her upper lip and beneath her arms. Grasping the icy-cold metal knob, she twisted. The door opened soundlessly. With a click she turned on her flashlight and swept the room, illuminating floors, walls, and ceiling all tiled in dull gray stone. The room had lantern hooks on the walls.

The focal point of the room was a knobby and asymmetric matte black alter made of what looked like volcanic rock. When she blinked her eyes closed, she saw the air around the altar writhing, but when she snapped them back open the effect disappeared. Her inner sense screamed at her that this altar was deviant and evil.

Acting purely on instinct, she raised her gun and emptied a full clip at the altar, trying to destroy it. However all her bullets did nothing. The report of the gun was so loud in the small room that it pierced through her head and finally forced Miss Parker to drop to the ground in agony.

Panting, she finally managed to open her watering eyes. Her view from the floor made the room look bigger. Just when she thought she could stand up she suddenly felt vertigo sweep through her again. Disjointed memories dropped into her mind and reassembled like uniting puzzle pieces.

Miss Parker remembered.

The boy had screamed loudly just once when Mr. Raines had twisted his arm. Then he'd gone quiet and brought forth his spirit animal. Raines had started whispering into Bobby's ear and he'd given in, soon nodding his head and smiling disturbingly - Mr. Lyle's smile.

After a few minutes, Raines stepped away and Bobby forced his spirit animal, a strange-looking fish, to appear on the black altar. She remembered her father taking to Raines, saying that using the ritual from the scrolls had supposedly been much more efficient than this. Raines had replied that he needed more latent Sentinels and Guides to experiment on if they wanted to make Project Lava commercially viable.

Then the spirit animal on the altar had started to burn. There hadn't been any flames, but the fish's skin had crisped and blackened, slowly sloughing off to dissolve into the volcanic stone altar as they watched. Lyle had flinched only once, but after that he seemed to almost enjoy the show.

Falling to her knees on the floor, her younger self had empathically felt the spirit animal's pain and terror as if they were her own. She hadn't let herself scream out loud. She didn't want anyone turning their attention on her. However, inside her mind she'd been screaming hysterically. She'd been screaming at something to hide.

No, not something, she forced her adult self to acknowledge, someone. In that room, she'd realized that her lifelong imaginary friend Hattie, named after the female pharaoh Hatshepsut, was actually real. Not only that, but that they were going to torture Hattie to death on that altar. So she'd pushed all her willpower into making Hattie disappear. Some bright light deep inside her soul had gone dark and stayed dark ever since, but it had worked.

They'd tried to force her to bring her spirit animal out 'for her own good,' but she'd cycled between whiny, confused, and scared until they finally gave up. Then Mr. Raines had pulled out a needle and stuck her with it, drugging her into unconsciousness. Everything had been foggy when she woke up, until she'd chalked it all up to a nightmare and forgotten it. When Hattie stopped appearing, she'd just told herself that losing imaginary friends was part of growing up.

But now that she remembered, she had to wonder. Had Hattie been a spirit animal? Could a daughter of the Centre really be a Sentinel?

Standing up, Miss Parker dusted herself off, reloaded her gun, and left the room and its creepy memories behind. She couldn't be gifted, she told herself. After all, if she was, wouldn't the Centre have figured it out over the years? Wouldn't someone in all her world travels have fingered her as latent? They had genetic tests for that, not to mention that powerful Sentinels and Guides could sense potential in others. Maybe Hattie really had been imaginary after all.

Disturbed and absorbed in her thoughts, she barely saw Lyle and Raines in time as they came out of a doorway down the hall. Luckily they paused to talk beneath a bare lightbulb, allowing her to duck back into the shadows of an empty room. She rolled her shoulders, preparing herself to brazen it out if necessary, but they hadn't seen her.

The sound of Mr. Raines' oxygen tank hissed loud and unpleasant in the hallway. "With the resurgence of Guides and Sentinels showing no signs of letting up, I have several clients getting impatient for Project Lava. Construction down here should be far enough along in a few weeks to start some preliminary trials." He took a raspy breath. "Do you have subjects for me to test it on yet? We need to know if we can replicate the effects outside of the Parker bloodline."

Producing that smarmy smile she hated so much, Mr. Lyle nodded. "I've got eyes on three teens recently Online. The sweepers can snatch them up whenever we're ready. The control also seems to be showing symptoms. If we're going to get this up and running quickly, we have to have him. We might want to secure him soon, in case his security gets beefed up again."

Mr. Raines turned and began making his way back to the exit. "After recent events, our power is precarious. Project Lava might be the only thing big enough to cement our control and keep the Triumvirate off our back. Miss Parker still has allies and there are those in the tower and abroad who'd prefer to shut down our more esoteric Projects. We need to get rid of her if we can. Stay alert, Mr. Lyle."

"Always," he answered with an easy smile, following Raines out.

Seething, Miss Parker waited for them to disappear. What she wouldn't give to get rid of those two cockroaches, but no matter. She was used to watching her back. However, she didn't like the sound of their plan. She couldn't just stand by and let them kidnap innocent children to experiment on, especially not with the plan to murder their spirit animals. Too many children had already been destroyed by this place. There was only so much filth her soul could endure before she began to loathe herself as much as she loathed this place.

By the time she got back upstairs, she had a raging headache. Ducking into the restroom, she took off her jacket and washed off as much of the filth of SL-27 as she could from her skin. Already a rash was forming on her forearms. The cool water felt good. She wished she could rinse off her mind as easily. Her memories made her feel unclean. Returning to her office, she popped a couple of aspirin. Then she got on her phone and ordered Sydney and Broots up to her office.

After filling them in on her returned memories and the overheard conversation, she asked what else they'd discovered. Frowning, Sydney admitted, "I haven't been able to find out anything new about the Centre, but I did run down some interesting facts. For the past two decades, the nearby Sentinel-Guide Center in Dover has been the most active SG Center in the entire world. They've done numerous studies, but come to no conclusions on why Dover hasn't declined like other areas around the world."

"How is that relevant? SG Centers aren't declining anymore with all of the people coming Online," Miss Parker asked with a wave of her hand.

Sydney shrugged. "I'm not sure yet, but Dover has become famous for producing a disproportionate number of strong Sentinels, so many that not all could find a perfect Guide to bond with. Many of the people coming Online now are Guides. They've been flocking to Dover trying to find a Sentinel to bond with, which has brought other Sentinels in to visit too. Several SG conventions, such as those involved with the police, medical, or legal fields, have moved to Dover this year. They all want a bondmate to help permanently shield the empathic pressure on the Guides and the sensory spikes of the Sentinels. Dover hotels have been booked solid for weeks with almost sold-out reservations going as far out as nine more months. It is possible that the children Lyle is watching are from out of town and staying at one of the hotels."

"Just how many kids are registered at the Dover SG Center for training right now?" Miss Parker asked.

"Those records are kept secret," Sydney answered with frustration.

"I, um, I think there's about nine in the kids class right now," Broots stuttered, not meeting their eyes.

Miss Parker leaned forward demandingly, "And just how do you know that, Broots?"

Compressing his lips, Broots looked around nervously before taking a deep breath. "When I ended up in the hospital a few weeks ago, my daughter Debbie came in, saw me covered in blood, and, well, went into a feral Sentinel episode," Broots trailed off unhappily.

"What happened to Debbie?" Miss Parker blinked incredulously, then frowned. "You should have told us."

Broots shrugged and looked away. "I know this place hates her kind. That's why I got hurt. However, I'm her father. I had to protect her. Besides, the security guard sedated Debbie and shipped us both off to the Dover SG Center. Debbie's a Sentinel now, a rare female one. I used my two weeks to get her some training. Since she's so young, her senses aren't as strong and her levels are easier to control. The teachers at the SG Center are pretty great, though the head director, Taylor, is a little too pleased with the power implications of all of the new people, if you know what I mean. He's an unbonded Guide, despite all of the Sentinels in the place. I think it's made him a bit bitter, especially because I got the sense that he's only has the job because his parents were the last Alpha Prime pair before they died. Anyways, he reminded me uncomfortably of some of the people here. Neither of us liked him."

"Thank you for trusting us, Broots," Sydney said. "If there's anything we can do to help Debbie, please let us know."

Miss Parker tapped her nails on her desk. "Would it be worthwhile to try and warn the parents? We don't have enough trustworthy people to guard all of them. Speaking of which, Broots, maybe you and Debbie should move in with me for a while so I can protect you."

"Th-thank you, Miss Parker," Broots stammered, dropping his eyes with an embarrassed flush.

"We'd have to be careful warning them," Sydney cautioned. "The Sentinels could easily identify us with their enhanced senses and might blame us if something goes wrong with the children. We don't want the wrath of the SG Center focused on us. They also might not take the words of a stranger seriously until it's too late."

"As to that," Broots said, "I think half the kids in there already know Miss Parker. I bet they'd trust her."

"You've got to be joking," Miss Parker said incredulously. "I don't do kids."

"Well, yeah," Broots conceded the obvious, "but I recognized a bunch of them from when you make me run your errands. Your 18 year old barista was in Debbie's group, along with your dry cleaner's son. I think I also recognized the twin Guides as waitresses from our favorite sushi place by the airport, the one with the cool fishtank."

Just then, the phone rang. Shaking her head at the strange coincidence, Miss Parker picked it up. "What?"

"Did you know that your little brother's nanny likes to eat her lunch with Mr. Lyle?" Jarod asked darkly.

Miss Parker swore. "Are you sure it's really Sharon?" she growled.

"The pictures of him kissing her neck are very convincing," Jarod drawled. "She's probably just a dupe for Lyle, but I thought you should know."

"She's fired," Miss Parker bit out. "She's so fired that the only job she's getting after this is on the street corner of 7th and Broadway."

Hanging up on Jarod, she immediately called the house phone, but no one picked up. Sharon the nanny's phone also went straight to voicemail. Disconnecting, she dialed Sam's phone number. The bodyguard's finally picked up on the third ring. "Yes," he said cautiously.

"Where's my brother?" Miss Parker snapped.

"I'm sorry, Miss Parker. I was just about to call you. We're at the hospital," Sam spilled in a rush.

"Why?" she demanded, jumping up from her desk and grabbing her purse, an extra clip for her gun, and her coat.

"Gabriel passed out at the playground and wouldn't wake up," Sam said. "Sharon wanted to take him to the Centre infirmary, but the local ER was closer. I had to argue with her about it and drive, so this is the first chance I've had to talk. I'm sorry I couldn't call you sooner. The doctors are with him now."

"I'm coming. Stay with him," she barked, hanging up the phone and running out the door.

"What happened," Sydney demanded as he and Broots followed.

"Gabe's in the ER," she snapped, darting down the hall and into the elevator. Sydney followed as the doors started to close. Broots dived in just in time, but got his jacket stuck in the doors as the elevator dropped. It almost choked him around the neck before he wrenched it free. Miss Parker was too worried to give that the scornful look it deserved.

They all piled into her car. Not bothering with a seatbelt, she revved the engine and burned rubber out of the parking garage. She made the normally twenty minute drive to the ER in eight. Broots looked green when they arrived, but managed to keep from puking as he stumbled from the car.

Striding into the ER, Miss Parker went up to the desk and slapped down her hand authoritatively. "Gabriel Parker, unconscious child," she demanded.

"Oh, um, room 26C," stuttered the wide-eyed boy manning the desk. Then he got a panicked look on his face as she immediately turned and strode away. "But wait! Ma'am! I need you to sign in and show me ID and stuff! Ma'am!"

"I'll take care of that," she heard Sydney say smoothly as she marched down the hall with her leather coat flapping.

Seeing number 26 up ahead, she reached out and ripped back the curtain from cubicle C. Gabriel sat on the bed rubbing his eyes with a pale-faced Sharon sitting next to him. Sam stood between them and the hall protectively, but backed off when he recognized her.

"I told you it was my sister," Gabriel said with annoyance. "My smell and taste might not be there yet, but I can hear her just fine." Sharon the nanny flinched.

"What's going on," Parker demanded, coming forward and smoothing the hair out of Gabriel's eyes. "I heard you passed out, kid."

"I've been trying to hide it, but I guess the cat's truly out of the bag now. That's what they say on TV, right?" Gabriel sighed, dropping his hands to his lap. "I'm a Sentinel," his chin trembled as he looked into her shocked face. "Ever since Daddy died, my sight and hearing have been really weird. The doctor said I looked too closely at the heat on the pavement and zoned, like those people coming Online in the news. I'm sorry." Tears started dripping down his cheeks. "I don't wanna be a Sentinel, but I can't help it. Please don't hate me. Don't let Mr. Lyle cut me up."

"What?" Miss Parker and Sharon said in unison, just as Sydney and Broots stepped into the room. Miss Parker felt something in her mind snap.

"Where would you even hear something like that?" Sharon asked in disbelief before Miss Parker could get a word in. She placed her hand on Gabe's leg but he pulled it away and huddled into himself.

"I forgot my backpack. I didn't wanna get in trouble, so I snuck back to get it and I saw you kiss Lyle," Gabriel confronted his nanny. "Then I hid. After you left he called and told someone that I'm a control and he can't wait to cut me up. You like him best, so that must mean you knew and you hate me now," Gabriel put his small head into his hands and started sobbing heartbreakingly.

Sharon's face went white and she stumbled off the bed and fell against the wall. "No, no, I'm so sorry," she whispered as tears began dripping down her face, "So so sorry, Gabriel. It's not true."

Miss Parker curled her lip in disgust at the woman who'd betrayed her brother. She turned sympathetically to the crying boy on the bed. Unsure of the best thing to do, Miss Parker looked back at Sydney and Broots in the doorway, people with actual childcare experience.

Unfortunately, they were no help. Broots looked on the verge of tears himself as he stared at Gabriel's pitiful huddle, but didn't move forward. Sydney simply met her eyes and then tipped his head encouragingly towards her brother.

Snapping at the boy to stop crying and man up probably wouldn't work. It was what her father had done with her, but she didn't want to be like her father. Not anymore. She wanted to be a woman like her mother.

Pushing down on her anger at stupid Sharon, who was guilty of being a gullible idiot but not of maliciousness as evidenced by the remorse and guilt poured off of her in annoying waves, Miss Parker sat down on the edge of the bed. Reaching out awkwardly, she rubbed her little brother's back in what she hoped was a soothing manner. Soon her strokes began to feel more comfortable and his crying slowed down. Gabriel looked up with vulnerable eyes and she felt something behind her breast uncoil from the dark and swim towards the surface.

"Will you keep me safe?" he sniffled.

"You're my family. They'll have to get through me before they even touch a hair on your head. No one's going to hurt you. Anyone tries, I'll turn them into swiss cheese with my gun. You're mine to protect," she vowed with deadly seriousness.

"O-okay," Gabriel wiped his runny nose with the back of his hand. "I don't like swiss cheese anyways, but… does that mean you love me?"

Miss Parker could feel the desperate hope hammering through his little body. His racing heartbeat pounded in her ears. She sighed in exasperation. "Of course I do, you pushy little gremlin."

"Miss Parker," Sydney scolded in disapproval, but Gabriel just grinned in delight.

"I love you too, sis," he declared, throwing his moist arms around her neck and giving her a tight hug. "Can I stay with you forever? Please?"

Despite the gross things currently soaking into her shoulder and hair, she hugged him back fiercely. The warmth of his body, the smell of his banana-scented shampoo, and the absolute trust he had in her to take care of him struck Miss Parker to her core. She did love him. She did.

Everything shifted and realigned. She didn't become something different, she just became more fundamentally herself than she'd ever allowed herself to be before. It felt right.

"Okay," she answered shakily.

Leaning back, he looked up at her with wide eyes. "Really?"

"From now on we're in this together. I'll do my best or die trying," she promised, trying not to think about how many good people had gone up against the Centre and still died, because that is what it could come to. Gabriel was an asset for Lyle and Raines. They wouldn't let him go so easily. She couldn't just drop him off somewhere and hope for the best either. If she wanted to protect him, she was going to have to leave the Centre and protect him personally.

"Jarod's going to have a field day complete with spoon races and dunking booths when he hears this," she mumbled to herself.

"Who's Jarod?" Gabriel asked. "And you can't die. You're Miss Parker, my big sister and the most powerful and invincible woman in the world. You're tougher than even Wonder Woman."

Suddenly his face fell. He turned to look at his Nanny. "Sharon doesn't like you. I can tell now that my senses are getting sharper as a Sentinel. She smells afraid of you."

Stumbling forward, Sharon dropped to her knees next to the bed. "That's because I made a mistake. It's not your sister's fault, it's mine. I'm so sorry, Gabriel. I was lonely and thought Lyle liked me, but you are more important than he'll ever be. I forgot that for a bit. I love you. I'm so sorry he scared you." She placed her hand on the bed palm up and, after a moment of consideration, Gabriel took it and squeezed. She smiled gratefully.

If Miss Parker hadn't felt the sincerity of Sharon's emotions with her inner sense, she never would have let her get close enough to touch Gabriel. Kissing the back of his hand, Sharon released him and stood up. Squaring her shoulders, she turned to Miss Parker and swallowed hard.

"I need to tell you something else. When we got to the hospital, I called Mr. Lyle to tell him that Gabriel had gone into a zone and was probably coming Online as a Sentinel," she admitted.

"You did what?!" Miss Parker snapped, her opinion nosediving again. If her brother hadn't been sitting in her lap she would have pointed her gun at the woman and pulled the trigger. She still might.

"Mr. Lyle said to let him know immediately if anything happened to Gabriel. I thought he wanted to know because he cared, but now I realize that I've been ignoring the signs that he was using me to get close to Gabriel. I'm sorry. He's probably already on his way." Sharon folded her arms around herself tightly and looked away in shame.

Broots, who was fidgeting over by the window, suddenly interrupted. "Uh, guys? Two familiar black SUVs just pulled up to the curb. I think Lyle and the sweepers are here."

Turning to look, Miss Parker focused and could suddenly hear Lyle's voice. "Make sure you get the Parker boy. Everyone else is expendable. If my sister's here, feel free to shoot her, but make sure it's fatal. We don't want the hospital patching Miss Parker up enough to come back and cause us more trouble."

Snapping her focus back to the room, she saw the faint impression of red arms from the corner of her eyes, but didn't have time to investigate it when a direct look showed nothing. "We're leaving," Miss Parker ordered, picking Gabriel up off the bed and shoving him at Broots so she could draw her gun. She saw Sydney's mouth moving, but for a moment she couldn't hear anything. Then the volume bumped back up to almost too loud before dropping back to normal. Sharon picked up a bag and shoved it into Sydney's arms.

"I'll try to delay them, say that he's in x-ray or something so you can get away," Sharon insisted.

"It's not safe," Sydney denied, looking to Miss Parker for support. She didn't want Sharon to get killed, but she also didn't trust her to come with them.

Sharon met her eyes and smiled bitterly. "It's okay. They don't care about me. I'll delay them for as long as possible and then act confused and scared when he turns up missing. They'll be too busy chasing after you to care about me."

"But Sharon," Gabriel said tearfully from Broots's arms.

"Hush," she said firmly, sweeping forward to give him a quick hug and kiss. "I've wanted to go on a vacation anyways. I'll always love you, but it's time to go live with your sister now. When things die down, come and visit me. My sister in Virginia Beach will know how to reach me," she met Miss Parkers eyes beseechingly and Miss Parker nodded begrudgingly in agreement.

"I love you too, Sharon," Gabriel sniffled, laying his head down on Broots's shoulder. Old skills came back as Broots tucked the little boy closer into his chest.

"Good luck," Miss Parker said as she herded everyone into the hall, "and thanks."

Then she heard the hunters getting closer. "Sam, cover our six. I'll take point, then Broots and Gabe, then Syd. Go!"

They rushed out into the hallway and around the corner, dodging nurses and hospital equipment. Miss Parker felt hypersensitive to every sound and movement. They pounded down a staircase and out a side door. Everything went perfectly until they reached the car.

Then Miss Parker heard the sound of shattering glass as someone fired on them through a window. "Down! Get in the car!" she snapped as she and Sam returned fire.

Luckily a large tree partially obscured their car from the men firing out the window. Nevertheless, a bullet grazed her arm, leaving a fiery line of pain. Broots, Gabe, and Sydney ducked into the backseat. Then Sam grunted painfully, though he didn't slow his fire, managing to knock one of the three men back from the window. Miss Parker paused for a second, focused on the window, and let her sight zoom. Then she squeezed off two shots, hitting one man in the shoulder and the other in the neck. Both dropped out of view.

In the lull, she and Sam dove into the car. Miss Parker pulled out with a screech, fishtailing the car for a second before regaining control and racing off. "Sam, how badly are you wounded?" she asked, the smell of his blood mixing with her own pungent in the closed car.

"Sorry, Miss Parker. I'll be fine. The bullet went straight through the edge of my thigh," he wiggled on the seat, pulling a bandage out of the glove box and knotting it around his leg with a pained hiss. "What about you?"

"Just a graze," she replied. "It's not even bleeding badly. We'll take care of it later." Then she took a sharp turn and wove through a quiet neighborhood at a disquieting speed for her passengers. Someone squeaked, though it could have been Broots just as much as her little brother.

Scenarios raced through Miss Parker's mind. "Alright, Gentlemen, time to decide. Gabe and I are getting out of Dodge and we're not coming back. Are you with us or should I leave you on the side of the road?"

"Are you really leaving the Centre this time?" Sydney asked skeptically.

Miss Parker tossed her hair back and swerved to pass a slower moving car. "Yeah," she said softly before clearing her throat and speaking more confidently. "I'd have preferred to tender my resignation with a note written in Lyle's blood while I used Raines's corpse as a desk, but we can't have everything. They need Gabriel as the control for Project Lava. I have to protect my brother. He comes first."

"My Debbie's at risk as a Sentinel now too," Broots said. "I won't stay at the Centre without you, Miss Parker. Count us in."

"I'm your man, Miss Parker. You know that," Sam said loyally.

"Well, Syd? What about you?" she asked, trying not to hold her breath. It would hurt if he said no, but she knew he had multiple projects and patients also taking up his time and priorities.

Gravel in his voice, Sydney cleared his throat before slowly pronouncing, "I would be honored to follow you, Miss Parker, wherever you may lead."

Blinking back unexpected tears of relief, Miss Parker checked behind her shoulder for a tail. Not finding any, she turned onto the highway. "We'll grab Debbie first. Then we'll hit up one of my emergency drops to get some extra weapons and switch cars. You doing okay, kiddo?" she raised her voice to ask.

"I'm fine, but next time can I have a gun too?" Gabriel asked with enthusiasm. "I'm wanna be a superhero like Batman."

"Batman doesn't use guns," Miss Parker said repressively, one of the few things she remembered about Batman from one of her college boyfriends.

"Oh yeah," he said grumpily.

"Maybe a Taser," she conceded, trying to cheer him up. Broots gave her an appalled look and then distracted the boy with some nerdtastick conversation about all of the gadgets that superheroes used. If there was a lasso of truth, she'd love to get it on a few people at the Centre. It would certainly make finding her missing pieces easier.

That night, Miss Parker sat in the bathtub of their fancy hotel suite. They may be on the run, but that didn't mean they had to live in squalor. Money could buy silence pretty efficiently if you knew the right people to pay off and Miss Parker had made sure she knew a long time ago.

Everyone was sleeping but Sam, who'd taken guard duty. If she concentrated, she could hear each of their heartbeats and feel everyone's exhaustion and stress. Mundane people couldn't do that, but she was no longer quite mundane.

Taking a deep breath, Miss Parker sank her head beneath the water and closed her eyes. Her bullet graze stung sharply, but it didn't matter. For just a moment, she needed the water to mute her senses. Plus, crying didn't count underwater where tears immediately disappeared, right?

I'm a Sentinel, she whispered in her mind, finally acknowledging the truth. I've always been a Sentinel…. Well, shit.

Sitting up abruptly, she wiped water off her face and looked straight at the shadowed faux-marble tile under the sink. Blowing out her breath, she called upon old lessons to center herself. "I know you're there. You can stop hiding," she coaxed gently.

The shadows rippled and suddenly a gigantic red octopus appeared. "Oh," she breathed, something bright bubbling up from her belly. "Hello, Hatshepsut. I've missed you." Tentacles slid over her shoulders and curled into her hair playfully.

Patting them fondly, Miss Parker looked off into the distance. "We'll hide out for a while to figure this Sentinel stuff out and make plans. Then we'll attack when they least expect it and destroy them utterly. Right, Hattie?" Her spirit animal clacked her sharp beak approvingly and then pulled down a heated towel and held it out helpfully. Feeling better, Miss Parker let herself smile.

After drying off and getting dressed, she checked with Sam. Despite his wound and the stress of the day, he looked alert. Next she looked in on Gabriel and Debbie's innocently sleeping faces. Then she forced herself to try and get some sleep.

As soon as she drifted off, she found herself dreaming of the dojo in Japan again. "Are you freaking kidding me?" she sighed in exasperation as Kamiya-Sensei tossed her a shinai. "If I have to remember Japan, why can't I be in bed trying to replicate old woodcuts with Tommy Tanaka instead of in here with you? I don't even like you."

Miss Parker barely dodged a vicious swipe at her shoulder. Kamiya-Sensei smirked and continued her attack. "Don't be silly. I'm very likable," the Japanese woman grunted when Miss Parker's shinai hit her elbow.

Before Miss Parker could celebrate too much, her opponent twisted and whacked her hard on the thigh. "How does it feel to be the Mother of Sentinels?" Kamiya-Sensei asked as Miss Parker limped back for a second. She tried lunging forward, but she missed. They exchanged a flurry of blows.

"I don't even know what that means," Miss Parker snapped. "I hate kids. Why don't we throw our swords down and fight hand-to-hand?"

Kamiya-Sensei smirked. "I'm not stupid. You'd beat me at hand-to-hand. I'll keep my sword, thanks." She stepped back for a moment and lowered her shinai, letting Miss Parker catch her breath. "Your ancestors would be proud of you, you know. You're going to be a great Sentinel mother. You've done a lot already without even consciously realizing it. All those kids would thank you if they knew. Now you're awake and choosing to leave the Centre to raise Gabriel. Right now, Parker women are watching from the other side, cheering you on."

"You mean they're not all hateful psychopaths? How comforting," Miss Parker retorted sarcastically.

Kamiya-Sensei bit back a laugh. "Not all of them. You're right that most of the Parkers are crazy, but not all. I've met a few especially good ones." Then her smile faded and she became serious. "However, as the Mother of Sentinels, you can finally restore the balance and regain your family honor. You have the most ancient Sentinel bloodline in the world. You can both hide yourself and bring out the gift in others. They'll probably call you an Alpha Sentinel Prime, since you have all five senses plus empathy, but that's a gross underestimation of your talents. They don't have a word for what you are."

Dazed at the influx of information, Miss Parker blinked hard.

Smiling wryly, Kamiya-Sensei added, "Your senses are fine for now, you have more stubbornness than a mule, but it really is in your best interest to bond with your Guide as soon as possible. Otherwise your fluctuating senses will eventually drive you into either a coma or insanity."

Miss Parker clenched her teeth and shook her head. "I'm not binding myself to some stranger. Don't underestimate me. I'm sure I'll manage fine."

Giving her an amused look, Kamiya-Sensei said, "Stop being stupid. Your Guide isn't a stranger. You've been a hair away from Online for decades. Your spirit animal kept you both camouflaged and safe from detection, but that hasn't kept you from feeling the pull of your Guide. Whose voice pulls you from the brink? Whose touch lingers on your skin for days?"

The sound of her breathing seemed loud in the dojo. Then Miss Parker spoke. "I'm going to shoot him."

"Oh, you finally figured it out?" Kamiya-Sensei smirked.

"Of course it's Jarod," Miss Parker snorted in disgust. "I'm definitely going to shoot him, though if I ever see you in person again, I'm going to shoot you too."

"Keep on dreaming." Tossing the tail of her long black hair behind her shoulder, Kamiya-Sensei winked, "And if you get your hands on him, I bet you'll have more pressing urges than injuring him, unless it involves your nails clawing down his bare back while you initiate a bond and give him a million reasons to never run away from you again."

Miss Parker wanted to snap back something scathing, but the images the words conjured up completely stole her breath. She would love to scratch lines up and down Jarod's back. She'd seen enough of it while chasing him. Just speaking to Jarod on the phone was more intimacy than she'd shared with most of her lovers. Making love to him would be explosive. However, being consumed by that fire had always scared her a little. Everyone she'd ever cared about left. What if he did too?

Yet if given the chance, she'd make a meal out of her pretender, one luscious bite at a time. She'd hated all of those other women he'd been with while on the run, but at the same time she smugly realized that none of them would ever match up to her. Jarod knew that too. That's why he never stopped calling.

And now that she'd allowed her mind to go there, the technicolor images flourished in her mind like weeds, pictures of their naked bodies tangled together, sweaty and laughing from hours of crazily athletic sex, followed by gentle and slow undulations and whispered confessions. Lovemaking with him would be exciting, sweet, addicting, and perfect. He'd never bore her and never betray her.

For the first time in her life she'd be naked both emotionally and physically. Jarod knew everything about her and still wanted her. There would be no hiding with him. She wanted Jarod and his love. She'd known for a very long time that he should belong to her, but until this moment, she'd managed to hide from the fact that she should belong to him. It scared her and yet she wanted it.

Miss Parker couldn't hide from the truth anymore and it was all Kamiya-Sensei's fault. "I hate you," she said tiredly. "I think you're a Guide, but I don't even care. I'm shooting you and burning this dojo down. Just wait."

"It won't do you much good, just ask Tommy Tanaka, but good luck," Kamiya-Sensei chirped pleasantly with an evil grin. Then she vanished and Miss Parker woke up.

The clock said 5:00 AM. That meant 6:00 PM in Japan. Picking up her phone, Miss Parker scrolled through her contacts until she found Tommy Tanaka's personal line.

It rang four times before picking up. "Moshi moshi?"

"Tommy, it's Miss Parker," she said fondly, plumping up the pillow behind her back. "I hope I'm not disturbing you."

"Not at all. To what do I owe the pleasure of your voice?" he asked flirtatiously.

"This is probably going to sound silly, but I keep having this recurring dream about that little dojo I used to wait for you at, the one run by the Wakuda family. Do you remember it?" She twisted the sheet around her fingers.

"Of course, it's still there even now. Most of my fond memories involve helping you clean up in the shower after your lessons, but why do you ask?" Tommy said warmly.

"I keep thinking about Kamiya-Sensei, the really annoying female instructor that taught there, the one with the star-shaped scar. I keep dreaming about conversations we never actually had when I used to spar with her. I was wondering if you knew anything about her or could get me some contact information for her," Miss Parker asked, not bothering to mention her intention to do the woman bodily harm. "I think I need to talk to her again."

"Who?" he asked in a spooked voice.

"Kamiya-Sensei," she repeated. "I think she's a Guide if that helps." Then she described the woman's appearance in more detail, though the striking star-shaped scar should really be enough.

"Are you sure you sparred with this woman?" he asked hesitantly.

Annoyed, Miss Parker sighed. "Of course I'm sure."

Tommy gave a thoughtful hum. "Then it might interest you to know that there are no female instructors at the Wakuda Dojo. The daughter of the family head practiced for a time, but she was but a child when you were here, has attended an exclusive boarding school since the age of eleven, and bears no distinctive scars. She did come Online as a Guide, but only recently. She's visiting friends in America right now."

"However, the dojo used to belong to the Kamiya family. Two generations ago, a Wakuda married into their family, took over their dojo, and merged the two fighting styles under his name. There's actually only been one female sensei in the dojo's history. She was a famous and venerated teacher and Guide, one of the greatest before those gifts began fleeing our shores. Her husband was also a famous Sentinel assassin during the Bakumatsu, Kamiya Kenshin. He took her family name upon marriage."

"Wait," she swallowed. "Wasn't the Bakumatsu in, like, the mid to late 1800s?"

"Yes," Tommy said solemnly. "Kamiya Kaoru-Sensei died over 100 years ago. If her ghost appeared to you, then I recommend you listen carefully to what she has to say."

"How is that even possible? A ghost?" her voice cracked on the question.

"We've lost much knowledge on the astral plane and on what a powerful Guide could do there," he answered gently. "Yet I suspect that the barriers between times and places are much more gossamer there than they are for those of us here. If Kamiya-Sensei has reached beyond the grave to tell you something, I would listen, Parker."

Thanking Tommy for his time, she hung up the phone with shaking fingers. Hattie appeared on the bed to curl around her comfortingly. She'd forgotten how good an eight-armed hug could feel. "I guess I have to start taking this Mother of Sentinel stuff seriously, huh?" she asked her spirit animal. Rubbing her lips, she sighed. "I really wish I still smoked."


"How do you do that?" Debbie asked a couple of weeks later.

"Do what?" Miss Parker replied, adjusting the strap of her scarlet bikini as she continued to practice zooming her sight and smell up and down simultaneously from her lounge chair. Guides made being a Sentinel easier, but they weren't mandatory. After two weeks of constant practice, she felt relatively confident that she understood her senses.

Miss Parker refused to be a desperate beggar the next time she met Jarod. As always, she intended to meet him from a position of strength. He had a bad habit of knocking her down off her high horse, but there'd been a few times when she'd come out on top. Smirking inwardly, she admitted that she had every intention of topping him the next time they met.

Remembering the two children nearby, she forced her mind away from thoughts of Jarod. The last thing she wanted was one of them asking why her scent had just changed. Someone else could have that talk with them. She refused.

Gabriel sat cross-legged by her feet, practicing his sight by examining a handful of colorful marbles. Their spirit animals frolicked in the nearby pool. Hattie kept ambushing Debbie's water moccasin, much to the snake's annoyance and Gabe's little shark's amusement.

"You feel like a crazy powerful Sentinel when we're practicing, but the rest of the time you feel just like a regular person," Debbie explained.

"Really? Interesting," Miss Parker sat up. "Let me try something." She turned to the pool. "Hattie, camouflage yourself for me," she ordered. The giant octopus waved a tentacle, then her skin mottled to match the blue tile of the pool before disappearing completely.

"That's awesome!" Gabriel enthused.

"How do I feel now?" Miss Parker asked with a smile for her brother.

"Mundane again," Debbie said, impressed. "Right, Gabe?"

Only Miss Parker and now Debbie were allowed to shorten his name to Gabe. Everyone else had to use Gabriel or face the little boy's temper. "I think so," he said after a short hesitation. "It's still hard for me to tell."

Reaching out, Miss Parker tugged gently on his hair. She was getting better at this kids thing, at least with Gabe and Debbie. "You're way younger than most Sentinels starting to come online. Don't worry about it. Your body is taking it slow to protect you and rightly so. This way you won't zone very easily. By the time you're twenty, you'll be doing things that'll make the Hulk green with envy."

"Um, Miss Parker? The Hulk is always green, but that's with anger," Debbie corrected.

Miss Parker rolled her eyes while Gabe dissolved into giggles. "You are a bigger nerd than your father," Miss Parker said. Debbie just smiled proudly.

A large raven flew overhead and landed next to the pool, barely sparing them a glance before peering into the water inquisitively. "He's big!" Gabe enthused, dropping his handful of marbles as he waved his arms in excitement. The marbles clattered onto the ground and then scattered across the pavement in shining, colorful disarray. Flapping his wings, the startled raven disappeared. Miss Parker made the mistake of focusing on his reflection in the rolling marbles. She focused too intently and fell into the layers of moving glass.

When she came back to herself, she found her hands being held by a preschooler on one side and a teenager on the other. They were talking quietly together. Blinking painfully dry eyes, Miss Parker cleared her throat. "What happened?"

"You zoned," Debbie said, subdued. "You have to be careful focusing too hard until you bond with a Guide, otherwise you can fall into a sensory fugue. I told you that," she scolded, failing to hide the fear beneath her words.

"We couldn't wake you up," Gabe said, squeezing her fingers and laying his head on her arm. "Sorry about the marbles."

"I'm sorry too," Miss Parker said, shaken at how easily she'd fallen.

Then a loud gurgle from Debbie's stomach broke the mood. "What? I'm hungry," Debbie said defensively.

"I think we're done with the pool. Let's go inside and eat a snack," Miss Parker said, pushing the kids off her lounger.

"Cereal!" Gabe cried.

Debbie wrinkled her nose. "Ugh, no. How about yogurt and fruit?"

Then all three of them cocked their heads at the sound of an unfamiliar car coming up the private lane to their secluded cabin. The men had gone into town and wouldn't be back for hours. The three Sentinels were alone.

In one seamless move, Miss Parker came to her feet with a gun cocked and pointed in her hand. She gestured sharply. Just like they'd practiced, Debbie took Gabe's hand and the two of them bunched up behind Miss Parker's back.

"You know where the emergency bag is in the woods," Miss Parker said quietly. "If I give the signal, start running. I'll be right behind you." She pointed her gun at the corner of the house by the driveway and tried to ignore the stench of fear rising from her charges.

"I only hear one heartbeat," Debbie said hesitantly. The car stopped and footsteps crunched onto the driveway.

Miss Parker took in a deep breath. A familiar and enticing musk tickled her nose. She relaxed and cursed softly at the same time, not lowering her gun. When had she taken the time to memorize his scent?

Seconds later, an unfairly handsome man strode around the corner of the house, the afternoon sun gilding the tips of his dark hair. He stopped at the threatening lift of her gun, but the momentary widening of his eyes focused more on her bikini-clad body than on the gun in her hand. He swallowed hard and jerked his eyes back up to her face. Raising a brow, she smirked to let him know that she'd noticed.

Embarrassment graced his face for a second, along with a strange flash of disappointment. Had he been hoping to find an Online Sentinel when he saw her? Then a smile creased his eyes until it took over his face with a grin. He shrugged. "I'm used to being greeted by your pointed gun, but the itsy-bitsy red bikini is new. Next time, wear yellow polka-dot and I'll try to control myself."

"And risk you bursting into that horrific song? You don't have that much control. Not a chance, Jarod," Miss Parker said.

"Are you going to put down your gun?" Jarod asked.

"Are you going to explain what you're doing here?" she answered pleasantly, gun rocksteady as it pointed at his arm. She didn't want to accidentally kill him, but a little flesh wound might be fun.

For her, at least.

"You left the Centre. I've been chasing after you ever since," Jarod replied, eying her gun a bit more warily, as if sensing her weakening self-control.

"That's a role-reversal," she snorted.

"Though note how quickly I found you," he replied cockily.

"More like how slowly, turtle-boy, considering I haven't been running since the first few days," she mocked back, a little stung and trying not to show it.

"Is he safe or not?" Gabe asked hesitantly from behind her back.

Debbie touched her back softly. "I think he's a Guide," she whispered wonderingly. Miss Parker already knew that, but having it said out loud by another Sentinel made her feel a spike of possessiveness.

"I'm here to help you," Jarod said, brow crinkling in confusion, probably at feeling her strange emotions. She tried to stop broadcasting. Then he looked behind her and his eyes softened, "all of you. I'm also here to ask for help," Jarod smiled mysteriously. "If you shoot me, you won't know why."

Dropping her gun, Miss Parker thumbed on the safety. "You're safe from him," Miss Parker told the kids. "Whether he's safe from me remains to be seen. Everyone inside the house and get dressed. Jarod," she turned to the pretender, "there's food in the kitchen. Whip us up a snack."

"Easy cheese and Poptarts?" he teased, laughing at her disgusted look.

The kids raced by them and into the house, letting the door slam behind them now that the danger was passed. "Never mind, you can wait in the living room while I shower," Miss Parker said, allowing Jarod to fall into step by her side as she went up into the house. Walking by his side had always felt natural. Now she knew why.

"It's good to see you. I was so worried when you disappeared. I-," Jarod pressed his lips together on more confessions and looked away. She could sense a complex mishmash of stark fear and planned vengeance overlaid on relief and devotion, maybe even something that might be love. He opened the door and held it for her to go in first, avoiding her eyes.

She was tempted to try and scan him deeper, but she suspected that she couldn't hide her status if she extended her senses too much. For some reason, she didn't want Jarod knowing she was a Sentinel just yet. Feeling his love was overwhelming. She didn't know if she could really believe it. Instead, she focused on the grim pleasure of knowing that if Lyle had taken her out, Jarod would have gotten revenge.

"I'm glad you're here," Miss Parker said simply, overcome by a swell of emotion before she could second-guess herself, only realizing after the fact that as a Guide, Jarod could actually feel the emotions behind her words too. The hitch in Jarod's stride as he followed her into the house gave away his surprise. She could feel him gathering his courage to do or say something in response.

Feeling a spurt of panic, she staged a tactical retreat. She wasn't ready. "Make yourself at home," she said with forced lightness. Then she turned and walked up the stairs, though she couldn't help but put some extra swing in her hips when she felt his hungry gaze.

Turning into her room, she shut the door and swallowed hard. If he'd just been hungry for her body, she might have given in and had some fun, but she could sense that he was just as if not even more hungry to possess her mind and heart. Jarod wanted everything.

In his soul lurked a dark, hungry, and viciously possessive man who would accept nothing less. Probably the only reason he'd encouraged her doomed romance with Thomas was because he'd somehow claimed Thomas as his first. She should've been angry about that, but after the initial surprise of Jarod's involvement had worn off, she'd simply accepted.

But no matter how much she'd loved Thomas and reveled in his love, she'd never been completely honest with him. She'd only admitted her love out loud to his gravestone, and Jarod had coached her to that moment of catharsis on the phone. Thomas had loved her, but he hadn't known her.

Jarod would accept nothing less than complete honesty. Letting herself be that vulnerable, that known, scared her. Frustrated, she stripped off her bikini with a snarl and stepped into the steaming shower, determined to focus on her shampoo and nothing else for the next five minutes.

When Miss Parker finally came downstairs, she found the kids in the kitchen with Jarod. "Now can we eat?!" Gabriel cried, throwing himself at Jarod's leg beseechingly.

Laughing, Jarod placed two plates on the bar in front of the tv. The food had been arranged to look like a beachscape, complete with a blueberry yogurt ocean beneath a banana and kiwi palm tree inhabited by graham cracker monkeys. However, the beach was made out of a poptart.

"We don't even have poptarts in the house," Miss Parker said incredulously, shaking her head.

"I brought my own," Jarod grinned.

"Of course you did," she sighed. "Are those even safe for Sentinels to eat?"

"Yes!" both kids chorused with their mouths full.

Rolling her eyes, she turned on the tv. "Jarod and I are going to talk outside privately. I know you both could hear us, but I'm asking you not to." She gave them both a hard stare until they agreed.

Then she picked up her plate, took off the poptart, and tossed it into the trash. Ignoring Jarod's fake pout and twinkling eyes, she walked outside onto the deck and sat down. As Jarod settled in across from her, it took more effort than she expected to tear her eyes away from the interesting highlights and shadows wrinkling his shirt as it conformed to his sleekly muscled body. She had a burning desire to touch every inch of his golden skin beneath those black clothes, to lick down the center of his back and memorize the salty taste of his skin. Her instincts were clamoring for her to take him, bond him to her in the most primitive of ways. She wanted to chase him down and claim him, but not for the Centre, for herself.

Wrenching her thoughts away from dangerous territory, she took a vicious bite of banana and chewed. "Alright, so what sort of help do you need?"

"Did Debbie tell you about her classmates at the SG Training Center?" Jarod asked. At her nod, he continued. "Three of them went missing right after you took off with Gabriel, your barista and the twins from the Japanese Restaurant."

Rage swelled in Miss Parker's breast. "That bastard took my kids," she seethed. "He's dead."

"Was it Raines and Lyle?" Jarod asked pointedly. "I haven't been able to get much on them since you left. Angelo's been kept busy and hasn't had time to message me."

"Yes, for Project Lava," Miss Parker confirmed. She filled Jarod in on what she'd managed to find out. His horrified expression revealed that he hadn't heard about the sacrificial altar on his own.

"Parker, I can't rescue those kids from the Centre by myself," Jarod admitted. "None of my simulations succeed without you. I'm not even sure the two of us together can do it, but I have to try. Help me. Please."

Mind racing, she shook her head. "We might be able to sneak in the back with the help of Broots, Sydney, and Sam, but we'd never get all of us out again. Not with the updates and changes in security since my father died."

"They're just kids," Jarod pleaded. "You know them personally. We can't leave them to Raines and Lyle. You have to help them."

"I know!" Miss Parker snapped back. "I didn't say I wouldn't help, I just said your plan is crap. You're a genius. Stop getting all emotional over kidnapped children and think of a better plan."

Jarod gritted his teeth. "Do you have any better suggestions, Ice Queen?" he retorted tightly.

Suddenly the door to the house opened and two heads peeked outside. "You're getting a little loud and hard to ignore," Debbie said with anxiety in her eyes. She must have heard the part about her friends being taken.

Seeing the two children behind Jarod's shoulder sparked an idea. "Go eat some ice cream and turn the tv up," Miss Parker ordered. Heaving an unhappy sigh, Debbie ushered Gabe back inside.

Miss Parker immediately turned back to Jarod. "So you're a Guide now, right?"

"Oh, um, yes," Jarod blinked and sat back at the abrupt change of subject.

For a second she mourned what she was about to do, destroying her family's legacy and the only home she'd ever known. Then she reminded herself that her family legacy was horrifying and that she'd already decided to find a new home. For years she'd numbed herself to her hatred of the Centre and even sometimes of herself. No more.

"If we can't sneak in, then maybe it's time for a frontal assault," Miss Parker suggested, committing herself. "The Centre didn't just take kids, they took baby Sentinels and Guides. There's no way they can weather that kind of exposure. There isn't enough money in the world to make the SG Community forgive something like that and they have allies in very high places. The Triumvirate will cut them loose for sure."

Jarod nodded, eyes alight with appreciation, as she continued explaining. "Let's go to the Dover SG Center, gather up all of the Sentinels with fighting experience, get their legal team on the phone with the news and alphabet government agencies, and then go kick the front door down. As Broots likes to remind me, most of the employees there are just regular Joes with little idea of what goes on in the shadier sublevels. They're unlikely to resist my orders. You and I can go down to SL-27 with a handpicked assault team and get the kids back. Then we'll have a press conference with free sushi and lattes for everyone."

"We might have a little trouble with the current SG Center's Director, he's risk averse, but otherwise I like it," Jarod grinned appreciatively. "I'll go run some simulations on it while we wait for everyone else to get here."

TO BE CONTINUED