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not. We need to put a backup plan into motion."
    Dev,
face pale and appearing a little shaken, turned to Remy. "I don’t know how
easy it’s going to be to contact Wyatt. Looks like you’re our backup
plan."
    "I
can’t affect man-made weather. As long as the machine is controlling the
hurricane, I’m useless. We found that out the hard way."
    Haley’s
gut clenched at the memory of how Itor had used their tiny prototype weather
machine against Remy—an act that had nearly cost both of them their lives.
    "True,"
Haley said, "but Itor will use existing natural conditions to maximize the
effects of the hurricane, and the thing is, those same conditions can be Itor’s
enemies. I know you haven’t done anything this big, but our only hope is for
you to drive faster a front coming from the west. Itor won’t be able to maintain
the storm’s strength if it has to push against the front, which means that if
they manage a direct strike, the storm will be weakened. The problem is that
even if Wyatt destroys the machine after the point I showed you, the storm will
have become self-sustaining and will still be a threat to the eastern seaboard.
In that case, you’ll have to nudge the hurricane itself out to sea."
    "That’s
some big shit, Haley." Remy sat forward in his chair and braced his
forearms on his knees, his gaze intense, masculine, having shifted into the
mission-mode sharpness that always made her heart trip with appreciation. Yeah,
he was definitely wearing the BDUs home tonight. "I’ll need you with
me."
    "I
know."
    "Not
an option," Dev said. "I need Haley here at the weather station."
    "I
can’t do this without her," Remy said. "You know that."
    Dev
dragged his hands through his hair, leaving wild tufts behind. "I do know
that, but just this once—"
    "No
woman but Haley." The fierce tone in Remy’s voice put an end to any
further argument—an argument Haley hadn’t been surprised to hear put on the
table. Dev would do anything to make sure a mission as critical as this one
reached a successful conclusion, and if that meant Remy getting blown by one of
their Seducers while Haley manned the weather station, then it was a sacrifice
Dev was willing to make.
    It
was not, however, a sacrifice either Remy or Haley would ever make.
    Dev
turned his gaze on her, and she didn’t flinch. Everyone in ACRO’s top tier knew
about Remy’s sexual ties with the weather, and a handful were aware of her role
in the weather-sex thing, but she’d gotten over the embarrassment.
    "Then
you’ll stay in touch with your weather lab?"
    "I’ll
take all my portable equipment, and I’ll stay in constant contact with you and
them."
    "How
much time do we have?"
    "Remy
and I will need to be in place in two days. If Wyatt and Remy can’t take care
of this thing, then one day three cartographers can start rewriting the U.S.
map."

CHAPTER Five
    "Wyatt,
great save on drill four—we would’ve lost it for sure if you hadn’t been quick
on your feet." Don, the rig manager, slapped him on the back and Wyatt
couldn’t even bring himself to smile at the guy. Instead, he nodded and worked
his way down to the lower platform, where he drew in shaky breaths and tried to
shrug off the praise.
    He
could almost hear his father’s voice berating him, mocking him. Wyatt’s fists
clenched at the memory and he shook it off the way he did all his shitty ones,
because he was not back on his family’s rig feeling like a pariah. This was a
job and he couldn’t afford the brain drain.
    You’re
not the same.
    Not
the same scared kid he was at twelve and thirteen and fourteen, not the same
young man who pushed his gifts down so hard it hurt him physically, sometimes
so badly that he had to curl up in a tight ball until the pain receded. In
order to ease it, he’d allowed himself to use his telekinesis in the privacy of
his room.
    Yeah,
being back on a rig was full of memories, none of them particularly good, some
of them indifferent and a few that were