ã€ŠTalented [Female Lead Superpower Science Fantasy]ã€‹


 Chapter One: The One with the Bombs

    An earsplitting wail punctured the silent night, shattering the illusions of my dream world and bringing me back to reality. My eyes popped open and I became instantly alert to a sound reverberating through the dark cabin. I bolted upright in my bed. Terror seized me. I knew that noise. In school, I had done monthly drills in response to that noise. Emphasis being they were drills. There had never been a real incident when the sirens had to be used and I¡¯d hoped it would never be necessary. Even now, as the sirens blared through the speakers in the clearing outside of my cabin, I prayed it was just another drill.

    I could only see the parts of my room illuminated by the ribbons of artificial light streaming through the wooden blinds. Hastily, I threw the blanket back as my eyes darted around the cabin. The other two beds were empty. Crap. Henri and Erik, my cabin mates, must have heard the invasion sirens and run out immediately. How had I slept through that? Why didn¡¯t they wake me up? Assholes.

    I didn¡¯t waste time putting on real clothes, or even shoes. I flung the cabin door open with my mind before I was fully out of my bed, and ran into the night; pajamas, bare feet, and all. I sprinted straight into the center of Hunters Village and stopped abruptly. For all the training drills I¡¯d taken part in at school, there had yet to be a single drill since my arrival at Elite Headquarters two weeks ago. I had no idea where I was supposed to go, or what I was supposed to do. Breathe, Talia, I reminded myself. Just breathe.

    The night air was unseasonably warm for late September, but a chill ran through my bones as panic gripped and twisted my insides. The sirens sounded again. We were under attack. Someone was attacking Elite Headquarters. Calm down. You need to breathe, I ordered myself. I forced myself to inhale the warm air through my nose and then blew it out, unsteadily, through clenched teeth.

    Slowly, I pivoted three-hundred-and-sixty-degrees¡ªchaos was the only way to describe the scene surrounding me. Pledges streamed from the cabins around Hunters Village. Panicked screams pierced the silence between siren blasts. I dug my nails sharply into my palms to prevent my own fear-driven yelps from escaping. Clear your mind. Focus. Concentrate your energy, I coached myself. I closed my eyes and forced my mind to go blank.

    My hypersensitive ears immediately registered a faint whizzing sound from above. I tilted my head back as I opened my eyes. The night sky looked as if it were falling, one star at a time. It took several seconds for my mind to process what my eyes were seeing; those weren¡¯t stars, those were bombs. Swallowing over the lump in my throat, I forced the unpleasantness clawing its way to my mouth back down. The people who panic in a crisis are the people who die, I reminded myself.

    The bombs exploded, expelling bright neon liquid. One exploded several feet in front of where I stood. Several drops of the glowing liquid hit my bare skin. I wiped at my calves, frantically smearing the fluid with my palms. I rubbed my hands on my thin t-shirt and it instantly began to glow. I waited for pain that never came. I stared, wide-eyed, as bomb after bomb detonated on the ground, leaving neon puddles in their wake. Pledges ran with hands over their heads for protection.

    I needed to do something, anything, besides standing here waiting for more neon green liquid to hit me. I concentrated all of my considerable mental energy on the falling explosives and on slowing their descent. After several seconds, the bombs froze in mid-air. I let out a breath I wasn¡¯t aware I had been holding as I strained with the effort of holding them in place.

    Opening my mind, I felt a flood of mixed emotions. The panic radiating from the other pledges¡¯ brains mirrored my own. Strangely, I also felt enjoyment and laughter mingled with the fear and anxiety; confusion swept over me.

    Donavon, I thought. I needed to find Donavon; he would know what was going on. I pulled some of my mental focus away from holding the bombs and sought out Donavon¡¯s mind. It took me only seconds to find him, but once I did, I was even more perplexed.

    Donavon was laughing. I could feel his glee as he watched the bombs fall. I pinpointed his location. He was close. Concentrating harder, I slipped deeper in to his head. Finally, I saw Hunters Village through his eyes. I knew exactly where he was standing¡ªon a small hill that overlooked the village.

    ¡°Donavon?¡± I mentally called out to him.

    ¡°Welcome to the Hunters, Tal,¡± he laughed.

    ¡°WHAT?!¡± my mental voice screamed at him. Was he joking? This was an initiation ritual? Irritation quickly replaced my fear and confusion.

    I narrowed my eyes in his general direction. I had a feeling he could see me from his perch, even though I couldn¡¯t see him. I was so annoyed that I let my mental hold on the bombs slip, causing one that had been hovering over my head to hit me square in the face. I opened my mouth to scream and the neon liquid nearly choked me. Accidentally swallowing a huge gulp, I began to gag. I fell to my knees, retching, and willed myself to throw up the unknown substance.

    Donavon¡¯s laughter filled my head again. ¡°It¡¯s just colored water, Tal.¡±

    He clearly found the situation hysterical, and himself clever. Anger washed over me. The last two weeks had been the most physically demanding of my life and now I was being roused from bed in the middle of the night to have ¡°bombs¡± launched at me? This was so not funny.

    I refocused my energy to freeze what I now knew to be water balloons in mid-fall. I focused on Donavon¡¯s mind and forced the balloons back through the air to their origin, to Donavon and his group of cohorts. Not waiting for his reaction, I turned on my heel and walked back into my cabin. I slammed the door and crawled back into bed, not caring that I still looked radioactive.

    I had the covers pulled over my head when I heard the door open, accompanied by loud laughter.

    ¡°Talia,¡± Erik called, ¡°come out and play.¡±

    ¡°Leave me alone, you ass,¡± I snapped. Three distinct sets of laughter chorused in response. I felt the covers being yanked back. I clung to the soft fabric of my white comforter, but I was no match for three guys. I kicked and punched as Donavon leaned over me. His dark blonde hair was soaked with the neon green liquid, making me feel a little better.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be a spoil sport, Tal,¡± he laughed. ¡°This is your formal welcome into Hunters pledging.¡±

    He wanted to see a spoil sport? I would show him a spoil sport. I kicked him in the stomach, hard, and he grunted. I flashed him a wicked smile. Erik pinned my legs down, giving Donavon the opportunity to scoop me up off my bed. I continued to squirm as he carried me across the cabin and back out into the night. He was over a foot taller and had close to a hundred pounds on me, so my efforts were in vain.

    ¡°Come on, Talia, it¡¯s almost over,¡± Erik whispered as he walked next to us. I craned my neck to face him and gave him a nasty look. He just laughed. I was hardly a threat at the moment.

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    Donavon carried me over to where a group of other pledges had already begun to congregate. He put me down in the wet grass but kept his hands firmly on my upper arms. Mentally I sent him a string of angry expletives. I didn¡¯t have to see his face to know he was smiling; he was enjoying my discomfort way too much.

    ¡°For those of you who don¡¯t know me, my name is Henri Reich,¡± an extremely tall, lean boy said, quieting those who were gathered. ¡°This is a little something we Hunters like to do as a welcome to the new pledges. I know you guys have all been working really hard these past two weeks. Making it this far means you¡¯ve passed the initial phase of training and are well on your way to graduating and becoming full-fledged Hunters. Congratulations!¡±

    When Henri stopped talking, Donavon released my arms. He stepped back so quickly I stumbled, nearly falling over. Donavon was not the only one who had retreated, all of the older Hunters had moved away from us, leaving me and the other pledges standing in the center of a new circle. More balloons rained down on the small group of us before I could register what was happening. These balloons were filled with a thick, gooey liquid in varying colors: paint. I used my hands to shield my head, but it didn¡¯t help.

    When the color assault finally ended, I removed my hands and looked around at the older Hunters. Some were doubled over with laughter. Even the more serious members were shaking with silent laughter. I scowled, hoping this was the only ¡°welcoming¡± gesture they¡¯d planned for us.

    Donavon materialized behind me again, wrapping his arms around my waist.

    ¡°Are you mad at me?¡± he whispered into my ear.

    I reached my paint-covered hands up to his face and smeared squiggles down his cheeks. Then I ran my fingers through his damp, blond hair, leaving most of the paint behind.

    ¡°Not at all,¡± I smiled sweetly.

    ¡°Enough, enough. I can¡¯t take all the cuteness,¡± Erik joked, coming over to us. ¡°Congrats Tal. You made it through your first round of training, and now you are officially a member of the most awesome hunting team ever¡ªmine,¡± he said, smiling broadly. Erik had smears of turquoise paint, the same color as his eyes, across each of his high cheekbones. The color complemented his tan skin nicely. He leaned down to hug me and I noticed flecks of purple and red paint decorating his thick black hair. I gave him a half-hearted hug in return.

    ¡°Talia, I¡¯m glad to have you as part of our team,¡± Henri said as he wrapped one of his long arms around my shoulders.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± I said sincerely. ¡°I¡¯m really glad to be here.¡± I was. This was what I¡¯d been working towards since I¡¯d started attending the McDonough School for the Talented seven years ago.

    At the end of their junior year, students selected the top three divisions of the government agency known as Talented Organization of Exceptionally Interesting Citizens¡ªTOXIC¡ªin which they wanted to work after graduation. Then a Placement Committee¡ªconsisting of each division head, the Director of the Agency and McDonough¡¯s headmistress¡ªreviewed each student¡¯s test scores, their Talent, and their Talent ranking, and assigned them to a division. Students spent their senior year, or pledge year as TOXIC termed it, working and training with their designated department. Not every student scored high enough to be rewarded with one of their top three choices and those students were randomly assigned to the less desirable divisions. The Hunters had been my top choice¡ªmy only choice. I knew I wanted, needed, to be a Hunter from my very first day.

    For most, it was an easy decision; they went with other Talents of their kind. Others, like me, wanted to do something different. Or, their particular ability did not have a niche. It wasn¡¯t unheard of for Talents besides Morphers, Light Manipulators, or Telekinetics to become Hunters, but I was one of the few who actually did. Most non-morphing Hunters weren¡¯t assigned to a team, but served as ¡°floaters¡± instead. Floaters were Hunters that joined individual hunting teams on a short-term basis, usually for just one hunting mission, to lend their individual specialty when it was needed.

    ¡°The food and drinks are on their way out, so please take advantage. As a special treat, curfew for the night has been lifted. And there will be no training until after lunchtime tomorrow, so enjoy yourselves,¡± Henri called to the entire group.

    Upon arriving at Elite Headquarters to start your pledge year, each pledge was assigned to a hunting team that had a vacancy. Hunting teams consisted of three members, but when one member left, TOXIC replaced them with a pledge. Part of what made the Hunters such a competitive division was the fact that they only took as many pledges as there were vacant hunting positions. This year only fifteen of us were accepted, much less than most years.

    I¡¯d been assigned to Henri Reich and Erik Kelley¡¯s hunting team. Henri was the oldest, and the leader of our trio. He stood almost two feet taller than me and was all lean muscle. His eyes were a warm, light brown, and he wore his hair just a little longer than most Hunters would have. Henri had been kind and patient in my short time working with him.

    Erik was Henri¡¯s polar opposite. He was only a couple of years younger than Henri, but was significantly more immature. It had amazed me to learn they were such good friends. Erik was shorter¡ªsomewhere between Henri¡¯s height and mine¡ªand more muscular than Henri, but by no means bulky. Erik¡¯s thick, black hair naturally fell to one side, and was long enough that he used a bandana to keep it out of his face when we practiced. He had extraordinary turquoise eyes; peculiar eye colors were a by-product of the same nuclear spill that had caused our talents. My own unnatural purplish-blue eyes were a result of the same catastrophe.

    Several more Hunters came over to welcome me and offer their congratulations. Graciously, I thanked them. Donavon grabbed my hand and led me away from the group after a short, squat boy with dark brown hair, whose name might have been Lenyx, had continued to extend his well wishes.

    ¡°Thanks,¡± I mentally sent Donavon.

    I wasn¡¯t exactly what you would call a social person. For most of my life, I had only one friend: Donavon. My parents had hired private tutors for me, so I rarely had the opportunity to spend time with other children. We had never stayed in one place long enough for me to go to school. Donavon was a social butterfly, but he knew that large groups of people made me uncomfortable.

    ¡°I figured you might want to get away.¡±

    ¡°What makes you think I want to get away with you?¡± I teased him.

    He pulled me close, wrapping his arms around my waist, and lifted me off my feet until our lips met. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back. I could never stay mad at him for very long.

    ¡°Told you that you wanted to get away with me,¡± he whispered in my ear, setting me back on the ground. His breath tickled my ear, and I giggled in spite of myself.

    He took my hand and led me behind the semicircle of cabins, and into the woods. We followed a short dirt path through the trees and into another small clearing. There was a small fire already blazing, and blankets and pillows were spread out around it.

    ¡°It¡¯s been so long since we spent time alone together. I thought that since you don¡¯t have a curfew tonight, maybe we could sleep under the stars.¡± His mental voice sounded tentative. I could tell he was afraid that I¡¯d say no.

    We hadn¡¯t spent much time together, just the two of us, in nearly a year. Since I was younger than Donavon, I still had to complete my time at school when he¡¯d come to Elite Headquarters. The time apart had been hard on both of us. I¡¯d seen him on holidays and the occasional weekend when he¡¯d been allowed to visit. We¡¯d talked daily, but it was a huge change seeing each other in classes and at every meal. One of the things I¡¯d been looking forward to the most about coming to Headquarters was being around him regularly again.

    I strode confidently towards the blankets and sat down. I patted a spot on the fabric next to me. Donavon gave me a huge smile and took a seat, folding his long legs underneath him.

    ¡°Donavon¡­.¡± I mentally began, looking at my hands uncomfortably. I did want to spend the night with him out there, under the stars, but I also didn¡¯t want him to get the wrong idea.

    He lifted my chin, forcing me to meet his clear blue eyes.

    ¡°I know, Tal. No pressure. I just want to spend time with you.¡± His voice was soft.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± I said out loud, giving him an appreciative half-grin. Donavon was only a year older than me, but that year seemed to make all the difference when it came to the next step in our relationship.

    We both laid down with our heads on the pillows, facing each other. Donavon draped one arm over my small waist and extended the other one under my head. We stayed like that for the rest of the night. We talked until just before sunrise, our entire exchange taking place mentally. We rarely spoke ¡°normally¡±, not since that first summer when we met.

    Donavon pulled me in closer. I buried my face in his broad chest, feeling comfortable and relaxed for the first time since arriving at Elite Headquarters.

    I drifted off to sleep as the sky turned from the dark of night to the pink of morning.

 Chapter Two: The One with the Petty Revenge

    The Great Contamination, as the history books called it, occurred a little over one hundred years ago. It started with natural disasters¡ªearthquakes, tsunamis, hurricanes, tornadoes¡ªthat destroyed both small coastal fishing villages and large industrial nations alike. The aboveground damage was extensive; entire towns were washed away. Millions worldwide lost everything, including their lives. Within weeks of the initial string of disasters, the world received another shocking blow. The nuclear reactors buried deep in the Earth¡¯s surface had begun to leak. Originally, the governments of the most powerful nations in the world banded together in an attempt to contain the waste. They called in world-renowned scientists, but nobody could figure out how to prevent the spread of the nuclear material.

    In less than one year, all the world¡¯s oceans were officially declared contaminated. The decimation of marine life was the first step on the path to the destruction of the world¡¯s ecosystem. Governments around the world issued massive health warnings and swimming in the oceans became prohibited. The remaining sea life and land animals were deemed unsafe to eat.

    As if the initial effects of the disasters were not bad enough, a few years later the long-term ramifications started to become apparent. Any and all animals that had survived were rounded up and bred in an effort to rebuild the populations. But the animals born in captivity weren¡¯t normal. Horses were born with horns, dogs with feathers instead of fur, fish with three eyes, and even two-headed pigs were reported.

    Quickly, it became evident that the anomalies weren¡¯t specific to animal life. The change in animals was followed closely by changes in plant life. Leaves began to glow at night, and the bark on trees grew a fuzzy coating, stinging anything that touched it. Even insects began to exhibit changes in color, size, and the number of appendages.

    However, the most astonishing effects of the contamination weren¡¯t observed until the first post-contamination children were born. While most afflicted children were born with unnatural eyes, white-blonde hair, or an extra finger or toe, a large portion were also born with a little something extra¡ªsomething more serious.

    As this first post-contamination generation reached the age of five, parents started to notice that their kids were¡­ odd. Some parents hid their children¡¯s abnormalities or, as they are now called, ¡°talents¡±. Other parents weren¡¯t able to hide the truth, given the fact that their child could change into an animal at will. It soon became obvious that these talents were as varied as they were prevalent.

    Morphing was the most common talent. Some children could morph into multiple animals¡ªcalled Polymorphs¡ªwhile others were limited to only one or two creatures. Telekinesis, telepathy, compulsion, higher reasoning, viewing, and visions were also among the first recorded talents. Eventually, Light Manipulators, Electrical Manipulators, and Mental Manipulators were also discovered.

    Of course, not all children were born with talents. Many appeared and acted just as ordinary as their parents. Scientists studied both types of children, desperately seeking answers as to why some were born ¡°normal¡± while others were not. For years experts experimented on the kids, but their efforts were to no avail. They were unable to isolate any single gene mutation that could account for the variation. Researchers were baffled. There was only one hypothesis that they all agreed on: the Talented were a direct result of The Great Contamination.

    Some talents were revered while others were feared. Visionaries were among those prized. Everybody in the world wanted to believe a better life was on the horizon, and any child who claimed to see a brighter future was placed on a pedestal. On the other hand, Telepaths and Mental Manipulators were among those feared. Nobody liked the idea of children who could influence the minds of others.

    The contamination levels remained extremely high for several decades, so the first few generations of offspring were heavily saturated with Talents. As time passed, the filtration systems became more advanced and scientists developed chemicals to counteract the effects on the human body, resulting in fewer and fewer children born with a talent. The rare talents¡ªsuch as teleportation and healing¡ªdwindled away early on, while the more common ones¡ªsuch as manipulation¡ªstill remain over a century later.

    Presently, less than a quarter of the population is born with a talent. While there is no doubt that originally the Talented were a result of the nuclear contamination, today the cause is less certain. Some believe that the children born with talents must be the descendants of the first generation of children born in the post-contamination era. Others believe that some families had always possessed abilities and the genetic irregularities that cause talents were just enhanced by the nuclear material. Still, others believe that it¡¯s all chance, that being Talented is a fluke.

    What do I believe? Some days I feel as though I am cursed. Cursed with an affliction that cannot be healed. Cursed to explore the mundane minds of those surrounding me. Cursed to know what people honestly think about me. Cursed to be burdened with other people¡¯s darkest secrets. Other days, I believe that I won the genetic lottery. After all, who wants to be ordinary?

    ¡°It¡¯s rude to stare at people while they¡¯re sleeping,¡± I slurred drowsily to Donavon as I attempted to drag myself out of sleep. I still had my eyes closed, but could feel him watching me. I could also feel the warm sun on my face and knew it must be mid-morning. I smiled. I didn¡¯t usually have the luxury of sleeping in.

    ¡°It¡¯s time to get up, sleepyhead,¡± he teased.

    ¡°Shhh. Sleeping,¡± I shot back, still grinning.

    ¡°I snagged some stuff for breakfast, and if you get up now, we can eat together before you need to head back for your afternoon practices,¡± he tempted. He knew the fastest way to wake me up was by promising me food.

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    ¡°Ugh,¡± I groaned out loud. Despite waking up with the birds for nearly half of my life, I was definitely not a morning person. I finally opened my eyes and, sure enough, Donavon¡¯s face was only inches from mine. His hair was cut short, so even after a night of sleeping outside, he looked put together. I had a feeling that I didn¡¯t look quite so good. My thoughts were confirmed when he reached out and gently detangled leaves and twigs from my wild dark curls.

    The few female Hunters that I¡¯d met wore their hair short so it was easy to conceal on missions. I¡¯d briefly contemplated cutting my hair, but when you¡¯re cursed with thick, curly hair, short is not a good look. Instead, I usually threaded my curls into a braid that reached halfway down my back.

    ¡°How bad is it?¡± I cringed, not sure I wanted to know the truth.

    ¡°You look like an earth goddess,¡± he joked.

    I pushed him hard, causing him to fall over onto his back, laughing.

    ¡°Feed me, please,¡± I said, still groggy.

    I sat up and blinked several times, trying to clear the last vestiges of sleep from my otherwise perfect vision. The morning light streamed into our makeshift campground through the tops of the surrounding trees. Donavon must have gotten up during the night to stoke the fire because it was still burning strong. He reached into a cooler sitting on the far side of his black-and-red-checkered blanket and pulled out several containers. The first was a shiny, metal thermos that he warmed in the fire. The next contained bright red raspberries. The last held thick slices of a white, spicy cracked-pepper cheese. Finally, Donavon pulled out a loaf of bread with a crusty brown exterior and a soft white center. He used a Swiss Army Knife to cut the bread, placing it in the fire just long enough to warm it. I watched, feeling extremely lazy as he poured the dark-brown liquid from the thermos into two ceramic cups he pulled from a black canvas bag. He handed one to me. I held it under my nose, inhaling the rich aroma, as the steam pouring off the top warmed my face. He handed me half of the loaf of bread. I took it gratefully and added several slices of the cheese along the length of the baguette, chewing happily. In between bites of spicy, cheesy bread, I popped mouthfuls of sweet, juicy berries.

    ¡°Good?¡± Donavon asked, watching me with an amused smirk. I beamed in return while trying to keep all the food in my mouth.

    ¡°It¡¯ll do,¡± I replied in the most off-hand tone that I could manage mentally. I didn¡¯t want him to be too satisfied with the delicious breakfast he¡¯d arranged. In truth, I lived for mornings like this with Donavon. Sitting there, alone with him, reminded me of when we were children, before life became so complicated.

    After breakfast, we packed up our campsite, extinguished the fire, and walked the short distance back to Hunters Village. We paused when we entered the cluster of small houses. Donavon leaned down and kissed me goodbye.

    ¡°Have a good day,¡± he grinned.

    ¡°You, too,¡± I replied with a smirk. I was still barefoot, so I walked carefully through the grass which was still checkered with splashes of paint and neon dye from the night before.

    I gently opened the door to the cabin I shared with Erik and Henri. Both were, thankfully, still in bed. I glanced longingly toward my empty bed, still a mess of sheets and pillows from the night before when I¡¯d been so rudely awakened. Tiptoeing across the wooden floor towards the bathroom, I prayed that the ancient boards wouldn¡¯t creak. I had one hand on the doorknob when I heard a voice behind me.

    ¡°Late night, Talia?¡± Erik¡¯s tousled black hair was just visible over the top of his blanket. His turquoise eyes were shining with amusement, streaks of paint still on his face.

    ¡°None of your business,¡± I retorted, trying to hide my reddening cheeks.

    ¡°Actually, it is my business. We¡¯re a team; you, me, Henri. Our lives depend on each other, so anything and everything that affects one of us affects all of us,¡± he lectured me with mock seriousness.

    ¡°You¡¯re still a pledge, and I¡¯m the leader of this team, so you have to do what I say; and I say you tell us where you were last night,¡± Henri chimed in.

    Great, they were both awake. I glared at Henri.

    ¡°You both know exactly where I was,¡± I squeaked. I sounded like a child getting caught doing something wrong, instead of an adult who had every right to spend the night with her boyfriend.

    ¡°I wanna hear you say it,¡± Erik taunted.

    ¡°Why?¡± I demanded.

    ¡°So we can see you blush,¡± Erik laughed. Too late. The heat from my face was already spreading down my neck. Thank goodness the room was still somewhat dark.

    I mentally shoved the bathroom door open and quickly stumbled through, willing it to close behind me. The door slammed hard enough to shake the wooden walls of the cabin. I heard Erik and Henri¡¯s laughter even after I turned on the shower.

    I took my time in the shower, not wanting to face Erik or Henri sooner than was necessary. There weren¡¯t many girls who chose to become Hunters. I had always wondered why. Now I knew. Most girls were too smart to subject themselves to shared living quarters with teenage boys.

    When the water finally ran cold, and I had succeeded in removing all the paint¡ªand likely the top layer of my skin¡ªI climbed out of the shower. I toweled myself dry and selected a set of standard issue workout clothes¡ªstretchy black pants and a stretchy black tank top¡ªfrom my designated bathroom drawers.

    I used the towel to clear the layer of steam from the small oval mirror over the sink. I closely examined my reflection, searching for traces of the previous night. Mercifully, my mundane reflection was the only thing staring back at me. My damp curls looked black instead of brown from the water. My pupils were dilated so only a rim of purple was visible and my normally olive-toned skin was bright red from the heat of the shower water and my vigorous scrubbing. I tapped my index finger on the pointy, slightly upturned end of my nose as if that would help to flatten it down a little. I rubbed at the smattering of tiny brown dots that covered the bridge of my nose and my cheekbones. They didn¡¯t go anywhere, assuring me they were in fact freckles and not lingering dirt. Finally, when I couldn¡¯t find any additional ways to prolong my bathroom time, I wrapped the towel around my hair and opened the door into the main room of the cabin.

    ¡°Took you long enough,¡± Erik said impatiently. ¡°You do realize that we all have to shower, right?¡±

    ¡°I thought you took your weekly shower three days ago,¡± I shot back.

    ¡°I did, but I have a hot lunch date with one of the Brains, so I don¡¯t want to smell.¡± Brain was a slang term for a Higher-Reasoning Talent because their minds analyzed data faster than any computer. Erik wiggled his eyebrows at me, his trademark move, then lifted his arm and sniffed.

    ¡°Charming,¡± I sarcastically commented while rolling my eyes.

    ¡°Do I smell, Tals? Maybe I don¡¯t need to shower after all,¡± he asked, walking toward me and putting his armpit in my face.

    ¡°Eww, Erik! Honestly, if the girls that line up to go out with you had to spend as much time with you as I do, they would definitely reconsider.¡±

    ¡°No way. Every girl here considers you the luckiest girl alive.¡±

    I glanced over at Henri and gave him an ¡°is-he-serious?¡± look. He just shook his head. Erik and Henri had been friends and teammates for two years. I guess he was used to Erik¡¯s antics.

    Erik went into the bathroom and I sat down on my unmade bed. I counted to ten, and then, as if on cue, Erik screamed my name followed by a long list of expletives.

 Chapter Three: The One with Nepotism

    In the decades following The Great Contamination, it became clear to the powers-that-be that the Talented were a new breed of children and posed numerous potential threats. The question of how to deal with these children was the most hotly debated topic at global summits. Fear of the unknown drove many nations to demand that the children be locked up ¡°for their own safety¡±. But let¡¯s be honest, imprisoning the Talented was actually for the peace of mind of scared politicians. Some extremist nations even argued in favor of the eradication of any and all persons exhibiting paranormal abilities. In the end, no satisfactory global solution was reached. Instead, each country was left to handle the situation in a manner that best served their individual interests.

    Margaret Anne McDonough was the seventy-fifth president of the United States of America and also grandmother to towheaded five-year-old Daniel McDonough¡ªan exceptionally strong Mind Manipulator. President McDonough believed children born with abilities needed to be nurtured and taught to use their talents. She converted a military facility located in western Maryland, previously a presidential bunker, into a training facility that soon became known as The McDonough School for the Talented.

    The McDonough School for the Talented didn¡¯t only play host to America¡¯s Talented children. Since many other countries weren¡¯t as forward thinking when it came to the Talented, the school welcomed all gifted kids from around the world. I, like many of the children there, wasn¡¯t born in the U.S. I was born in Capri, Italy. Even though my parents, Francis and Katerina Lyons, traveled a lot because of my father¡¯s position with the government, I called Capri home until their deaths seven years ago.

    At first, President McDonough merely offered families the option to send their Talented children to the school. Over time however, it became apparent that some parents were reluctant to have their children attend a special school. They didn¡¯t want the stigma that many associated with having a Talented child. Instead, these parents chose to homeschool their children if they were unable to hide the abnormalities. If they could hide the abilities, the parents sent their kids to normal schools and pretended there was nothing ¡°special¡± about them.

    This ignited a new debate. Parents of ¡°normal¡± children argued that it was unacceptable because their offspring were at a disadvantage when compared to Talented children. These parents claimed that the Talented kids had an unfair edge in every aspect of life, including sports and academics. They argued that they shouldn¡¯t be allowed to attend schools and play sports with the ¡°normal¡± kids. In their minds, it simply wasn¡¯t fair to those born unaffected by the nuclear contamination.

    Parents of non-talented children weren¡¯t the only people calling for segregation in schools. Congress passed the Mandatory Talent Testing Act five years after McDonough¡¯s school opened. This law required that, at the age of five, every child be tested for special abilities. Every child testing positive was sent to the school. As the first few classes of children turned eighteen and graduated, it became clear that all of the training and talent development was going to waste, and TOXIC was born.

    TOXIC is an agency within the government that utilizes each child¡¯s unique ability in the most advantageous way. Divisions within TOXIC, or The Agency, were created around the most prevalent talents. The divisions include:

    The Hunters Division: aptly named as their main duty is to hunt both people and information. Morphing, light manipulation, and telekinesis are the most common gifts among Hunters. If another division perceives a threat, a hunting team is dispatched to neutralize it. When another division stumbles across valuable information, a hunting team goes to retrieve it. ¡°Hunter¡± is the modern term for an ancient profession: spying.

    The Crypto Division: created for higher reasoning Talents¡ªalso known as the Brains. The Brains spend all their time in front of computer screens, sifting through streams of encrypted communications, quickly decrypting them, and analyzing any hidden messages. They monitor every text, voice and holographic communication throughout the United States, and many abroad. Essentially, Brains are the eyes and ears of The Agency. They are the first line of defense against all threats, both foreign and domestic.

    The Tracking Division: staffed by Viewers¡ªTalented able to remotely observe events taking place anywhere in the world. The more powerful Viewers are better able to control the talent; they can focus their energy when given a picture or piece of clothing, locate the individual, and give an accurate description of the surroundings. Unfortunately, strong Viewers are rare these days. The one or two Talented that test positive for viewing every year are usually too weak to be truly effective. At best, they are able to track an individual they are physically close to or related to by blood.

    The Planning Division: home to Visionaries, or Talented that see the future. The difficulty with Visionaries is that most cannot control the timing of their visions. The average Visionary has a vision only every few weeks and it occurs at random. Most are unable to control the target of the vision, as well. The strongest, or Elite Level Visionaries, are able to concentrate on one person and see flashes of their future on command. The insights of Visionaries often prevent attacks on our country.

    The Interrogation Division: formed for Talents with varying degrees of telepathy and mind manipulation capabilities. Telepaths and Mind Manipulators use their abilities to question any individual thought to be a threat to the country¡¯s safety. Telepaths can easily tell if a person is lying and Manipulators can compel him to tell the truth. The Agency even lends out weaker Telepaths and Manipulators to local governments to interrogate criminal suspects. This has led to swift justice and an expedited legal system. Many years ago the Supreme Court ruled that no trial is needed in cases where the suspect is interrogated by a documented Telepath or Mind Manipulator.

    There are also divisions within The Agency that are not gift-specific. The Research & Development and the Medical sectors are staffed by the Talented exhibiting a high academic aptitude in one of the sciences: biology, chemistry, or physics. Those demonstrating extraordinary physical strengths, who were not accepted into the Hunters, join the Military Division or guard TOXIC¡¯s various facilities; weapons¡¯ plants, prisons, and the McDonough School. Some Talented even stay on at the McDonough School and help the newbies develop their own abilities.

    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    Finally, there are the low-level Talented, some of whom end up in one of The Agency¡¯s manufacturing plants, assembling anything from weapons to office chairs. The extremely unfortunate low-level Talented become secretaries, cooks, or cleaning staff.

    I came to live at and attend McDonough School after the death of my family. My decision to pledge the Hunters had brought me to my current home, Hunters Village at Elite Headquarters, located approximately one hundred miles west of the nation¡¯s capital in scenic Brentwood Springs, West Virginia. If all went according to plan, I would officially graduate in one year, become a Hunter, and find the man responsible for the deaths of my parents. But for now, I would settle for learning to live with my new teammates¡ªwithout killing Erik or dying of embarrassment on account of his constant teasing.

    ***

    I wasn¡¯t hungry, but I accepted Henri¡¯s invitation to have lunch before our afternoon practice. Henri was twenty-two and already a full-fledged Hunter after following the usual TOXIC protocol. He had started at the McDonough School, leaving his home in Somerset, Pennsylvania, when he was just five. At seventeen, he¡¯d pledged the Hunters and come to live at Elite Headquarters. At eighteen, after successfully completing his pledge year, he¡¯d officially graduated and become a member of TOXIC¡¯s most coveted division.

    Henri and I chatted comfortably through lunch. In the two weeks since my arrival, we¡¯d rarely spent any time alone, just the two of us. Normally during meals, he lectured me about the nuances of life in the Hunters. But today he told me a bit about his family back home in Pennsylvania. His parents weren¡¯t Talented and had been shocked, yet pleased, to learn he was a Polymorph. His much younger sister, Melony, was twelve and also a Talent¡ªa Light Manipulator. He visited her at McDonough School as often as he could get away, since neither sibling went home very often.

    Most people didn¡¯t know about my past, so I let Henri do most of the talking. At school I had kept a low profile¡ªnever truly displaying my full powers. Telepathy was not uncommon but advanced mind manipulation, as I was capable of, was extremely rare. At Elite Headquarters they knew exactly what I was capable of but if it unnerved them, they didn¡¯t let it show. Henri had even said he¡¯d requested me specifically because he¡¯d heard rumors of my abilities.

    After lunch, we met up with Erik at our designated practice space, area thirteen. Today, like every day since I¡¯d been assigned to Henri¡¯s team, we worked on three-way mental communication. This skill was the entire reason Henri wanted me as part of his team. I was already able to communicate mentally with each of them individually, but he hoped I would be able to figure out a way for all three of us to hear each other at the same time.

    Ordinarily, I would¡¯ve said three-way communication was not possible, but I wasn¡¯t the only one in our group with an unusual talent for a Hunter. Erik was what TOXIC called a Mimic, meaning he could mimic the abilities of any talent that he was near. When the three of us were together, Erik was able to mimic my mental abilities and Henri¡¯s morphing talents at the same time. This allowed me to communicate mentally with both Erik and Henri, and for Erik to communicate with both Henri and me, mentally. The final step, the one we¡¯d worked on every day for the past two weeks, was to establish the three-way link. So far, we weren¡¯t having a lot of luck. Henri was becoming frustrated with my lack of progress and Erik¡¯s constant threesome jokes, but he was doing a good job of hiding it. He was too polite to complain and too professional to let his disappointment show. Still, I could feel his patience waning with each passing day.

    In addition to the mental training, we also trained physically. I typically spent my afternoons at the firing range, practicing with firearms, a bow and arrow, or learning knife-throwing. Once a week, Erik taught me how to fence. I wasn¡¯t very good, a fact made more apparent by Erik¡¯s phenomenal skill, but Henri insisted it was vital that I train with every weapon available.

    After our training that afternoon, we went back to the cabin to clean up.

    ¡°Are you gracing us with your presence at dinner?¡± Erik asked as I sat on my bed, drying my hair after my shower.

    ¡°Not tonight,¡± I replied offhandedly.

    ¡°We¡¯re way better company than the Director¡¯s son.¡±

    ¡°Keep telling yourself that,¡± I murmured. I was used to the way others acted towards Donavon. He wasn¡¯t only the son of the Director of the Agency, but also shared a last name with the founder of the school. Margaret Ann McDonough was his great-great-great-great-great grandmother, give-or-take a couple of ¡°greats¡±.

    ¡°Oh Talia, come on now, I don¡¯t need to tell myself that. There are plenty of girls who remind me of that all the time.¡± Erik winked at me.

    ¡°Erik,¡± Henri warned, giving him a pointed look.

    ¡°What? You know it¡¯s true. The only reason people want to hang out with him is because he¡¯s the Director¡¯s son, and they think that¡¯ll somehow get them favors. That¡¯s probably the only reason he even got into the Hunters. He¡¯s not even that good.¡±

    ¡°Erik. Stop,¡± Henri said through clenched teeth.

    ¡°Is that how you feel about me, too? Is that why you wanted me as part of your team?¡± I spun around to him. I was seething. I might be used to the way people talked about Donavon, but that didn¡¯t mean I liked it. It wasn¡¯t his fault he was born Mac¡¯s son.

    ¡°What?¡± To his credit, Erik seemed slightly taken aback, like he genuinely didn¡¯t know what I was talking about. My anger lessened slightly.

    ¡°Mac raised me. I lived with his family until I came here,¡± I said evenly. ¡°Do you think I get special treatment? Do you think I only got here because of Mac? That he called in special favors to get me into the Hunters?¡±

    ¡°Oh, shit. Talia, I¡¯m sorry. I didn¡¯t know,¡± he apologized, but Henri was the only one left in the cabin to hear his words.

    I was acutely sensitive, maybe overly so, when it came to my relationship with Mac, or Director Danbury McDonough as he was known to most. The crappiest part of being able to read minds was knowing what people really thought of you. Erik¡¯s view wasn¡¯t the minority opinion. A lot of other students thought I¡¯d only been accepted to pledge the Hunters because Mac had pulled strings to get me in. They complained to each other¡ªif I were anyone else, I would be working in some remedial Agency position, like food services or janitorial duty. It had been this way since I first went to McDonough School: the whispering when I walked past, the sneers when I answered a question correctly in class, the outright condemnation by all the girls my age when I started dating Donavon. It usually didn¡¯t bother me much. Mostly the accusations just made me work harder. I didn¡¯t bother to correct them.

    The truth was that I worked extremely hard to get an invitation to pledge the Hunters. Hunters were typically Morphers. Their natural talents gave them extremely heightened senses, in addition to the ability to morph into a variety of animals, and in some rare cases, other humans. I would never be able to morph, since it¡¯s not a learned behavior. However, fine-tuning my senses was something I was capable of mastering. So I did. Mac had begun working with me when I first came to McDonough School. I also took extra combat and weapons lessons every day instead of making friends. I felt confident that my abilities rivaled those of the best of my classmates when I went to try out for the Hunters. Captain Alvarez, the leader of the Hunters, had thought so, too; I¡¯d taken the liberty of peeking into his head to make sure.

 Chapter Four: The One with the Origin Story

    After the Mandatory testing law took effect, several rebel factions developed in response. They accumulated a strong following, mostly in the southwestern United States. The rebels staged a small revolt, but The Agency squashed it before it had gone too far. In the end, the Coalition of Rebel States, California, Nevada, Utah, Arizona, Colorado, New Mexico and Texas, seceded from the rest of the country and elected their own president. Over the years, The Coalition had served as a safe haven for citizens who championed a country where talents were suppressed, or hidden; where being Talented was something that brought shame. One of the primary objectives of TOXIC was to prevent The Coalition from gaining any more momentum. In fact, Mac¡¯s main goal as Director was to defeat The Coalition¡¯s leaders and reunite the country.

    I was ten years old when the rebels killed my parents. My family moved around a lot when I was a child, because of my father¡¯s job as a government scientist. At the time of the attack, we were visiting the States so that my father could attend an annual meeting with members of TOXIC. My family always stayed in the same hotel, about twenty minutes away from McDonough School¡¯s campus.

    The men in black came in the dead of night. My father and his bodyguard tried to fight them off, but they were incredibly outnumbered. My mother hid me in a closet and went to my father¡¯s aid, but she was no more a fighter than he was. I watched through the slats in the closet door, terrified as the men in black mercilessly killed my parents. I stuffed my small fist in my mouth and bit down until I tasted blood, willing myself not to scream. I wanted to close my eyes against the carnage. Instead, I sat frozen with my eyes open so wide that they began to water, producing tears even before my brain could process what was going on.

    My parents¡¯ deaths had been quick. One cold metal bullet to the side of my father¡¯s head was all it took to steal the life of the man whose lap I curled up in every night before bed; the man who brought me cold milk and warm cinnamon sugar cookies when I had nightmares; the man whose warm dark brown eyes and toothy smile lit up every time my mother walked in the room.

    My poor mother never stood a chance. She was grabbed from behind before she could even reach my father. A gaping wound appeared across her throat with one flick of her attacker¡¯s wrist. The man in black tossed her carelessly next to my father¡¯s crumpled form, as if she were trash.

    I felt murderous. The feelings overwhelmed me, stirring in my stomach and rising like bile in my throat. Then, the horrible, high-pitched shrieking started. It filled my ears, suffocating all of the coherent thoughts in my brain.

    I am still not sure if it was the cold, calculated murder of my father, or the careless disposal of my mother¡ªprobably both¡ªbut I felt something inside of me snap. One minute I was hiding in the closet with the silk of my mother¡¯s long dresses pulled tight around my face to block out the brutal scene in the bedroom. The next, I was sitting in the outer room of our hotel suite, surrounded by broken furniture, shattered glass, and the bodies of the men in black. They were all dead.

    The heavy black clouds in the night sky matched the darkness I felt building inside me. The rain began to fall through the broken windows in fat drops. They came down slowly at first, but it wasn¡¯t long before the drops blended together, becoming streams of water falling from the sky. The rainwater was cold, a sharp contrast to the hot tears pouring from my eyes.

    I don¡¯t know how long I sat there in the rain before a blond man rushed through the open door to the hotel room. I recognized him from meetings with my father, but I couldn¡¯t remember his name. He was a large man with broad shoulders, hair that was cut short, and a tanned, weathered face.

    The blond man carried a large gun slung over one shoulder, and several smaller ones tucked at his waist. An entire team of men clamored through the doorway after him. He held up one of his hands, indicating for the men to stay back. He approached me slowly, hesitantly. As he got closer, he tentatively extended one of his large, gloved hands toward me. I had seen people approach wounded animals the same way.

    ¡°Natalia?¡± he asked in a soft voice. Unable to find the energy to nod my head, I just stared blankly.

    ¡°Natalia,¡± he repeated, ¡°my name is Danbury McDonough. Do you remember me? I¡¯m friends with your daddy.¡± I rewarded him with another of my blank stares.

    ¡°Natalia, are you hurt?¡± He took my silence as an indication that I was not.

    He knelt next to me and gently untangled my fingers from the folds of my dress. Without thinking, I threw my arms around his neck. He patted me awkwardly on the back, unsure how to react. I dug my small fingers into his shoulders, scared to let go. He carefully picked me up. I started shaking, actually feeling the cold for the first time.

    ¡°You¡¯re freezing,¡± he commented, hugging me.

    He carried me out the door. The men spoke in low voices to one another.

    ¡°How many are dead?¡± one man whispered to the shorter man standing next to him.

    ¡°There have to be at least ten right there,¡± another proffered.

    ¡°Did she do that?¡± the shorter man asked in disbelief.

    ¡°Impossible, she¡¯s a child,¡± a heavily accented voice interjected.

    ¡°Does she even have a weapon?¡±

    I could feel Mac¡¯s body tense in response to the mutterings of the men. He hurried us through the corridor and down the stairs to a waiting car in the parking lot.

    He placed me in the backseat of the waiting vehicle. I curled into a ball as he covered me with a blanket. My body and mind were numb, impervious to the rain and cold. He tucked the red and black fabric under my chin. I was vaguely aware that the material was itchy against my skin, but I didn¡¯t move it away.

    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    I could hear the soft ping of the raindrops hitting the metal roof of the car, keeping perfect time with the tears leaking on to the soft leather seat and pooling underneath my cheek. I tried to concentrate on the noise instead of the mental slideshow of my parents¡¯ deaths. I was convinced that the images, now seared into my consciousness, would never fade. The rage I¡¯d felt in the closet was now gone, leaving me hollow and tired, so tired. I closed my swollen eyes and willed my mind blank.

    I spent one month at the medical facility located on the grounds of the McDonough School. Mac came to visit me every day. He kept up a constant, one-sided conversation, never appearing bothered by my lack of response. Every day the medics would draw my blood, hook me up to machines, and talk about my vital signs. Sometimes they talked to me and sometimes they simply talked around me.

    One morning, Mac came into my room and instead of sitting in his usual chair in the corner, he crouched down next to the side of my bed. He made a point to lock his steely-gray eyes with mine.

    ¡°Natalia, I need to talk to you,¡± he said, in the most serious tone he¡¯d ever used with me, ¡°and I need you to listen very carefully. The medics here say you are physically healthy and that you can be released.¡±

    When I did not comment, Mac plunged forward with what, I assumed, was a carefully prepared speech. ¡°You have two choices. I found an uncle¡ªyour father¡¯s brother, I think¡ªin Italy, who is willing to let you live with him and his family.¡± He hesitated before giving me my second option, but I didn¡¯t need to hear him say it; I read the one word out of his mind. Before he could open his mouth, I said my first word since that fateful night: ¡°Revenge.¡±

    During one of his daily visits, Mac had explained to me TOXIC¡¯s theory of what happened the night my parents were murdered. They believed that the President of The Coalition, Ian Crane, had ordered the deaths of my parents in retaliation for my father¡¯s scientific contributions to the study of Talents and what caused our abilities. Mac said our family wasn¡¯t the only one The Coalition had targeted, but it was the first time they had left a survivor.

    That very day, I left medical and went to live with Danbury ¡°Mac¡± McDonough, his wife Gretchen, and their twelve-year-old son. I had no personal items, so I followed Mac, empty-handed, up the long stone path to a sprawling ranch-style house. Before we reached the bright red front door, it opened and inside stood a tall woman with pretty blond hair and big blue eyes. Standing next to her was a boy. At twelve, the son was already as tall as his mother. He had shaggy, blond hair and eyes like his mother. He smiled at me, and for the first time since my parents¡¯ death, I smiled back.

    ¡°Natalia, I would like you to meet my wife, Gretchen, and my son, Donavon,¡± Mac said to me as he gestured to each in turn.

    ¡°Natalia,¡± Gretchen greeted me warmly. ¡°I had some clothes made for you, sweetheart. I hope you will like them.¡±

    I knew I should say thank you, but I couldn¡¯t find my voice, so I simply nodded.

    ¡°Donavon, why don¡¯t you show Natalia to her new room and let her get settled? I am sure she needs to rest,¡± Gretchen said to her son, still smiling down at me.

    ¡°¡¯OK, follow me,¡± Donovan instructed.

    I looked up at Mac. He nodded encouragingly, so I followed Donavon. He didn¡¯t speak as we wound through the maze that was their house. Finally, we reached a set of double doors in the very back of the house. Donavon opened the doors and led me into a small living area with two overstuffed red couches and a small dark wooden table.

    ¡°This is your sitting room,¡± he explained. ¡°Through that door over there is your bedroom and bathroom. My mom hung clothes in the closet, and there are some books on the desk. My dad said you liked reading old books.¡±

    ¡°Thank you,¡± I croaked in a voice that was hoarse from non-use.

    ¡°You need anything else?¡± he asked. I shook my head, and he turned to leave. He hesitated at the door. ¡°Is it true you can manipulate people¡¯s minds?¡± he asked, so fast that I nearly misunderstood him.

    ¡°Who told you that?¡± I demanded.

    ¡°I heard my dad and one of his Hunters talking,¡± he replied, sheepishly. ¡°Dad says you can perform mind manipulation.¡± I just stared, not sure how to react. My parents taught me never to talk about my unique abilities.

    ¡°So, is it true?¡± Donavon pressed.

    After a long moment, I walked towards him. His eyes widened, but he didn¡¯t flinch as I reached out and took his hand. I fixed his wide eyes with my own.

    ¡°Yes, it¡¯s true,¡± I answered mentally.

    His eyes grew even wider, but he didn¡¯t release my hand.

    ¡°Whoa, that¡¯s so cool,¡± his mental voice replied. ¡°Can you make anybody hear what you are thinking?¡±

    ¡°If I want them to, I can make people hear or see anything.¡±

    Donavon smiled. ¡°That¡¯s so cool,¡± he repeated.

    ¡°You¡¯re¡­ not scared of me?¡± I tentatively asked.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know how anyone could be scared of you.¡±

    I looked up into his shining blue eyes and smiled. For the first time in my life, I knew that I had a friend.

    The first couple of days with the McDonough family were strange. Mac and Gretchen continually tried to engage me in conversation, but I wasn¡¯t ready to talk to them. Mac would come visit me in my sitting room and talk about my soon-to-be new life at school. I had heard my father talk about the school when he thought I wasn¡¯t paying attention. I listened intently to every word Mac said, mentally filing every detail away for later.

    While Mac¡¯s sole concern was making sure that I understood my new role as a student at school, Gretchen¡¯s priority was making sure that I never wore the same outfit twice. When I arrived, the closet was filled with elaborate dresses made of raw silk, soft animal hair sweaters in varying colors, and comfortable looking cotton pants. Every day more packages arrived with fabrics that Gretchen had ordered from New York City. She would send for one of the seamstresses from school, and the two of them would spend the day fussing over tailoring the new clothes and deciding what new outfits needed ordered.

    Each day after lunch, Donavon would rescue me from his mother¡¯s fawning. I seldom spoke when I was with Mac or Gretchen; with Donavon I rarely kept quiet. Donavon wanted to know all about the glamorous life I¡¯d led, traveling around the world. He¡¯d spent all of his life living at either the McDonough School or Elite Headquarters. I hated to tell him that I spent most of my life inside hotel rooms and rarely got to see anything cool. Likewise, I wanted to know everything about his life at school with friends. I had little interaction with kids my own age growing up, and even less interaction¡ªnone, actually¡ªwith Talented kids. In fact, before coming to live with the McDonough¡¯s, I didn¡¯t know that what I could do was considered a talent.

    Donavon was what TOXIC called a Polymorph. He could change into just about any animal. He told me that his dad had been teaching him how to morph into other human forms, but he was not even close to achieving such a feat.

    Some days, I would spend the afternoon watching Donavon show off; he would morph from one animal to another while I giggled and clapped for him. Other days, he would work with me on my abilities. We would hide out in the woods behind his parents¡¯ house and see if I could reach his mind, widening the gap each day until we could communicate across the entire compound. Sometimes, we would simply wander down to the lake on the other side of the woods to play in the water.

    Every night, alone in my room, I cried myself to sleep. I had succeeded in almost entirely blocking out the violence that had cost my parents their lives, but that didn¡¯t mean I missed them any less. I loved having a real friend in Donavon, and Mac and Gretchen were going out of their way to make me feel like part of their family. But they would never be my actual family. I forced myself to repeat the name, over and over, of the man who I¡¯d learned ordered the death of my family: Ian Crane. I promised myself that one day I would return the favor.

 Chapter Five: The One with the Mind Meld

    I was in a foul mood when I met Donavon in a small caf¨¦ for dinner. He was sitting at a table in the corner waiting for me when I arrived.

    Living at Elite Headquarters had a lot of advantages; the biggest, in my opinion, was the abundance of food options. At school, the only place to eat was the cafeteria. They served three strictly regimented meals a day. The food wasn¡¯t bad but lacked imagination and variety, since the school valued proper diet and nutrition above all else. Donavon and I had a unique advantage over the other students at school: Mac and Gretchen lived in a house on the school¡¯s grounds. We¡¯d gone up there for dinner quite often.

    But here? That was a whole different story. The Hunters weren¡¯t the only division of The Agency housed at Elite Headquarters, so it was more like a small town than a training compound. There were caf¨¦s and snack shops spread throughout the compound, boasting a variety of foods from around the world. We also had stores that sold everything from toothpaste¡ªin case you didn¡¯t like the kind the housekeepers put in the bathrooms¡ªto small electronics.

    ¡°Hey,¡± I said, taking the empty seat across from him.

    ¡°Want to tell me about it?¡± he asked, immediately sensing my dark mood.

    ¡°No,¡± I replied a little too forcefully. ¡°I don¡¯t. Can we just eat?¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡± Donavon took a menu out of the holder in the center of the table, and began touching the screen to make selections for both of us. When he was done, he pushed the ¡°Enter¡± button at the bottom of the screen and replaced the menu.

    ¡°Want to tell me how your practice session went?¡± he asked.

    ¡°I¡¯d rather you tell me about your day. I don¡¯t feel much like talking.¡±

    Just then, a woman showed up with two bottles of water. Donavon thanked her.

    ¡°I will gladly tell you about my day,¡± he said, once she¡¯d left. He launched into the events of his day, embellishing a somewhat amusing story to make it hilariously funny. I smiled in spite of myself, not so much because the story was actually that funny, but because I thought it was so sweet of him to go out of his way to try and make me feel better. By the time our dinner arrived, I was in a much better mood. Donavon always had that effect on me. I felt safe when I was with him.

    After dinner, we took a walk around the compound. We were about to start our second loop of the grounds, when Donovan grabbed my hand.

    ¡°Arden and Harris went into the city and won¡¯t be back until curfew,¡± Donavon said mentally. Arden and Harris were Donavon¡¯s teammates, and therefore his cabin mates. If the food options were the greatest advantage of living at Elite Headquarters, lack of privacy was the greatest disadvantage. At school, every student had his or her own room, making it easy to spend strongly frowned-upon time with members of the opposite sex. While at school I not only had my own dorm room, but I also had my own suite of rooms at Mac and Gretchen¡¯s house. They didn¡¯t mind Donavon and me being alone together.

    ¡°Lead the way,¡± I answered.

    By the time we got back to Donavon¡¯s cabin, we only had an hour until curfew. I took off my shoes and curled up on his bed. Donavon lay down next to me and covered us with a quilt that I recognized from his house; his mom had made it for him. I laid my head on his chest. He snaked one arm around my waist and slid his hand up under the back of my shirt, resting it on the small of my back. He lightly ran his fingertips back and forth, sending chills up my spine. I raised my head and stretched up until our lips met. I kissed him softly. He moved both of his hands to my waist and pulled me on top of him. I kissed him harder. He lifted me up and flipped me over onto my back. I let out a small giggle of surprise. He leaned over me and bent his head, careful to keep his weight off me by holding himself in a push-up position. I lifted my head up to meet him halfway. He pulled back, teasing me. I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck, trying to pull him back down. He was strong, and instead of allowing me to pull him back down, he reared his head and shoulders back, lifting me slightly off the bed. I released him and fell on to my back. Thinking I was clever, I gave him a quick jab with the side of my hand in the crook of his right elbow. He wasn¡¯t expecting it, and his arm gave out. He fell on top of me, just as I had anticipated. I wrapped my legs around his waist at the same time that he tried to roll himself to one side, afraid that his weight would crush me. When he rolled, I¡¯d already managed to entwine my limbs with his waist. Our combined weight¡ªmingled with the fact we were tangled in his quilt¡ªcaused us to roll right off the bed.

    I landed flat on my back. Donavon landed square on top of me. The initial jolt of hitting the wood floor jarred my bones. The shock in Donavon¡¯s eyes must have mirrored my own. Before either of us could say anything, I burst out laughing at the absurdity of the situation. I was laughing so hard that I didn¡¯t hear the door open.

    ¡°Oops! Didn¡¯t mean to interrupt,¡± Arden¡¯s voice called.

    ¡°You¡¯re not interrupting anything,¡± Donavon grumbled, clearly annoyed.

    ¡°Hi, Talia,¡± said Harris as he waved. Harris had been a year ahead of Donavon at school, and the two had been good friends since childhood. He¡¯d always been my favorite of Donavon¡¯s friends.

    I peered around Donavon¡¯s considerably larger body and returned his wave. Harris was standing in the doorway, smirking. It wasn¡¯t the first time he had walked in on Donavon and me in a somewhat compromising situation.

    ¡°Could you two wait outside for a minute?¡± Donavon asked, agitated.

    ¡°No, no, no. You don¡¯t need to do that,¡± I said quickly. ¡°I need to get back for curfew.¡±

    Arden strolled awkwardly to his bed, trying not to look at us. Donavon untangled himself and carefully stood up. He reached his hand down to help me up. I quickly pulled my shirt back down to cover my stomach, and tried to smooth my dark curls in vain. I imagined my hair closely resembled a rat¡¯s nest.

    Harris barely stifled the laughter escaping his throat. ¡°Don¡¯t bother, Tal. It¡¯s a lost cause at this point.¡±

    Donavon grabbed my hand and practically dragged me out of the cabin. I gave both boys a wave as I passed.

    ¡°Are you mad at me?¡± I asked as soon as we were out the door. He stopped short, causing me to run into his back. I could feel the waves of tension rolling off of him.

    ¡°It¡¯s not you. I just get frustrated at how little alone time we have together.¡±

    ¡°I know, me, too. It¡¯ll get better,¡± I promised, even though I knew that wasn¡¯t quite true. Usually, younger Hunters and pledges lived in the cabins for years before being moved to the individual private suites that housed the rest of the operatives at Elite Headquarters.

    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    Donavon started walking again. My cabin was only a short way from his, so it didn¡¯t take us long to get there. He kissed me on the cheek before saying goodnight. He started walking away, but I grabbed his hand and pulled him back to me.

    ¡°You aren¡¯t getting off that easy,¡± I proclaimed. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him. At first, he merely complied but soon he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me to him. I kissed him deeper. We heard catcalls and Donavon placed me back on my feet.

    ¡°Goodnight, Talia.¡± He turned and started walking away. ¡°I love you.¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± I replied.

    I looked around, seeking out the catcallers. I spotted them sitting outside of a cabin a few doors down. I gave them a rude hand gesture before walking into my cabin.

    Neither Erik nor Henri was inside, which was weird. It was so close to curfew. Sitting on my bed was a bouquet of flowers made up of vibrant blues, purples and pinks. Attached to the flowers¡¯ paper wrapping was a note with one word. ¡°Sorry.¡± They were from Erik. I rolled my eyes and dropped the beautiful flowers on to my bedside table before climbing into bed. I was so tired that I didn¡¯t hear either of the boys come in shortly thereafter.

    ***

    The morning sun streamed in through the window of the cabin, waking me early. I needed to remember to close the curtains before bed. I blinked several times, trying to clear the sleep from my eyes. I stretched, turning my head left, then right. When I looked right, I noticed that somebody had put my flowers in water in a glass vase on my bedside table. I smiled to myself. I was about to sit up when a pillow came sailing across the room, hitting me in the face. I groaned.

    ¡°Get up. We¡¯re all having breakfast together.¡± Henri¡¯s voice sounded muffled from where I lay underneath the pillow. I sat up and looked around the room.

    ¡°Where¡¯s Erik?¡± I asked, noticing immediately that he wasn¡¯t in his bed.

    ¡°Shower. He was afraid he would be resigned to taking cold showers from now on if he didn¡¯t start beating you in there,¡± Henri replied dryly. ¡°Get up and get ready. We have a lot to do today.¡±

    I groaned again, grudgingly rolled myself out of bed, and got ready. The three of us headed to Henri¡¯s favorite caf¨¦ for a bread-heavy breakfast. Erik didn¡¯t mention our fight from the day before, so I didn¡¯t bring it up either.

    Over breakfast, Henri outlined different strategies that he thought we should try and reinforced how important it was that we¡ªand by ¡°we,¡± I knew he meant me¡ªnail the three-way mental connection.

    After breakfast, I worked tirelessly trying to connect all three of our minds while we ran through combat drills, pushing myself harder than I had in the previous two weeks. A few times I was actually able to make the connection, but I was unable to hold on to it for long. By lunch, I was mentally exhausted. I wasn¡¯t sure if I could go another round in the afternoon. Thankfully, Henri had decided we would switch to the mental relaying of messages, which came easier, for our afternoon session. By the end of the day, the mental exertion, combined with the extreme physical activity, left me nearly shaking with fatigue.

    At school, students were put through rigorous training schedules, but it was nothing like what I¡¯d experienced in my short time at Elite Headquarters.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go back to the cabin, shower, and then we can head to dinner,¡± Henri suggested after I tripped over my own feet for what seemed like the one-hundredth time that afternoon. I nodded gratefully. The only thing I wanted to do was lay down in my bed. I trailed several paces behind the boys on the way back to the cabin and followed Henri¡¯s orders.

    The boys, thankfully, let me shower first. My shaky legs didn¡¯t allow me to stay in the hot spray for as long as I would have liked; even lifting my arms over my head to wash my hair felt like too much work. Instead, I just stood under the water until I was somewhat confident that the water had washed out most of the sweat and grime. I dressed in the most comfortable cotton pants and sweater I could find in my bathroom cubby, wound my dark, wet curls into a tight bun, and was ready in record time. I stumbled out of the bathroom and curled up on my bed to wait for the boys to shower and dress.

    ¡°Let her sleep,¡± Erik urged.

    ¡°The more time we spend together, the faster she will be able to form the connection, and the easier it will be for her to hold,¡± Henri responded, a note of desperation underlying his otherwise calm voice.

    ¡°She¡¯s exhausted, Henri. You have no idea how tiring using that kind of mental energy can be,¡± Erik said in a firm, low voice.

    ¡°She needs to get this. I need her to get this,¡± Henri urged, the desperation in his voice becoming thicker.

    ¡°I understand that, but you cannot push her so hard, so fast¡ªshe¡¯ll break under the pressure,¡± Erik replied.

    I was shocked that Erik was the voice of caution. I wanted to interrupt them¡ªafter all, they were talking about me¡ªbut I couldn¡¯t muster the energy to speak.

    ¡°Let her sleep now.¡± Erik¡¯s tone was final. ¡°She¡¯s getting stronger by the day. I don¡¯t think you should push her further tonight.¡±

    Henri took a deep breath. ¡°You¡¯re right. I¡¯m getting ahead of myself.¡±

    ¡°Besides, now we can go into the city for dinner.¡± Ah, that was the Erik I knew. I envisioned Henri rolling his eyes.

    Somebody, Erik by the feel of it, took the quilt from the end of my bed and covered me gently. I murmured what was meant to be ¡°thanks¡±, but sounded more like grunts and moans, and fell asleep before they made it out of the door.

    When I woke, I felt strong arms encircle my waist. I smelled the familiar sandalwood scent of the soaps Gretchen ordered from somewhere out West. I snuggled closer.

    ¡°What¡¯re you doing here?¡± My mental voice was sleepy and a little slurred.

    ¡°I saw Erik and Henri on their way to dinner. Erik said you weren¡¯t feeling well, so I figured I would check on you.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m okay. Just really tired. Long day.¡±

    ¡°Go back to sleep,¡± Donovan said, smoothing the wet pieces of hair that had escaped my bun back from my face.

    ¡°Are you going to stay?¡± I asked hopefully.

    ¡°For a little while.¡±

    ¡°Good.¡± I knew this wasn¡¯t really Donavon¡¯s idea of quality alone time, but I also knew that I would sleep better if he were here. Donavon¡¯s arms tightened around me, and he nuzzled his face in my neck. I fell back asleep, smiling.

    Donavon coming into my cabin brought back the memory of the first night he ever snuck into my room to sleep with me. It was on the eve of my first day as a student and my nerves had refused to let me sleep. I tossed and turned in my too-big bed, hoping that all of the movement would wear me out. It was well past the time where one day ends and the next begins, when I opened my mind and reached out to Donavon. We had worked all summer seeing how far I could stretch my mental reach. The distance between our bedrooms was nothing compared to what I knew I could achieve.

    ¡°Are you awake?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Yup. Are you having trouble sleeping, too?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m nervous about tomorrow,¡± I admitted.

    ¡°Hold on.¡±

    Not even a minute later, I heard Donavon¡¯s light footsteps in my sitting room. I mentally unlocked the door to my bedroom, prodding it open just a crack for him. He opened it the rest of the way and silently crept towards my bed. The bedsprings depressed under his weight as he stretched out on the empty half.

    ¡°Why are you so nervous?¡± he asked.

    ¡°I¡¯ve never been to school before.¡±

    ¡°This isn¡¯t like a normal school. Everybody there is like you. You¡¯ll be fine.¡±

    ¡°Mac said nobody would be like me,¡± I said accusingly.

    ¡°Well, not exactly like you, no,¡± he amended. ¡°Nobody there does mind manipulation. But there will be other kids that can move stuff with their minds like you, and I think even one or two that can read minds.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± I dared to hope that I was finally going to be ¡°normal¡±, so to speak.

    ¡°Really,¡± Donovan confirmed.

    ¡°I won¡¯t know anybody.¡±

    ¡°You know me, and I know everybody. My friends will be your friends.¡±

    I grinned in the dark. I couldn¡¯t make out his features from where I lay, yet I knew that he could make out mine. He reached out and held one of my hands in his warm, soft palm.

    ¡°Open your mind and close your eyes.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± I asked, suspiciously.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you trust me?¡± He sounded a little wounded.

    ¡°Of course I trust you,¡± I answered quickly, afraid that I¡¯d hurt his feelings.

    ¡°Okay, then open your mind and close your eyes.¡±

    Hesitantly, I closed my eyes¡ªI knew that he would be able to tell if I didn¡¯t¡ªand removed the remaining barriers to my mind. He began mentally humming an old bedtime song, one my mother used to sing to me. I didn¡¯t know the words, but the melody was soft and comforting. Before I knew it, I drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

 Chapter Six: The One Where it Starts to get Real

    The days quickly began to run together, one day morphing into the next, until I lost all concept of time and days of the week. Each day was the same as the one before. Henri had been right¡ªthe more time I spent with them, the easier it was for me to create and hold the three-way mental connection. However, the mental bond didn¡¯t come without a price. I was directing so much energy to my mental abilities that my balance and coordination were off, and my other senses suffered. At the end of each day, every inch of my body hurt, even my eyelashes. But thankfully, I was so exhausted that I fell instantly asleep every night.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve been wondering why I¡¯m pushing you so hard, so fast,¡± Henri said one morning over a breakfast of fatty strips of bacon and goopy eggs. ¡°It hasn¡¯t been for nothing.¡± He paused for dramatic effect.

    ¡°Well, don¡¯t keep us in suspense,¡± Erik said sarcastically. He clearly knew where this was going.

    Henri gave him a pointed look. ¡°Captain Alvarez and Director McDonough have been so impressed with the progress that Talia is making that they have given us our first hunting assignment.¡±

    My eyes grew wide with shock that quickly turned to excitement. As a pledge, I would be participating in several hunts prior to my actual graduation from school. But I hadn¡¯t imagined that it would happen so soon. I knew from Donavon that none of the other pledges had been assigned a mission yet.

    ¡°Tell me all about it,¡± I squealed, not bothering to hide my enthusiasm.

    ¡°I don¡¯t have the specifics yet, but it¡¯s a pretty simple assignment. There is some information TOXIC wants, and we need to retrieve it¡ªpreferably undetected. I should know more in a couple of days.¡±

    ¡°How does it all work?¡± I pressed. Donavon had been telling me about hunting missions since the day I went to live with the McDonough''s, but I was so eager that I wanted Henri to tell me all over again.

    ¡°The Brains will give us information on the location and the people involved. Then we stake out the location for a couple of days. We¡¯ll make sure that all of the information we have is accurate and see what else we can learn. After that, we go in, get what we came for, and get out before anyone notices we were there.¡±

    ¡°Sounds pretty simple,¡± I observed.

    ¡°Should be. These assignments are usually given to teams with pledges. But that doesn¡¯t mean that there aren¡¯t risks, so keep your excitement in check and take this seriously,¡± Henri warned.

    I put everything I had into training that day. I pushed my mental and physical limits to just-short of their breaking points. My excitement was fueling my adrenaline, and I barely felt fatigued at the end of practice.

    After we had finished for the day, I ran straight to Donavon¡¯s cabin. Our schedules were so strenuous that I¡¯d barely seen him in the past couple of weeks. I wanted to tell him that I¡¯d gotten my first assignment. I knocked on his door, impatiently tapping my foot.

    Harris answered. ¡°Hey, Tal, come on in,¡± he greeted me, holding the door open. ¡°I was just heading to dinner, so I¡¯ll leave you two alone.¡±

    I waved dismissively at Harris as I locked eyes with Donavon. He was sitting on his bed, so I skipped over and gave him a big hug.

    ¡°You¡¯re in a great mood,¡± he remarked.

    ¡°I got my first assignment!¡±

    ¡°Congrats.¡± He sounded tired, and not nearly as enthusiastic as I¡¯d hoped.

    ¡°I know I shouldn¡¯t be so excited, but this is my first step toward really doing something, you know?¡± I tried to backpedal, embarrassed by my elation.

    ¡°We should celebrate,¡± Donavon answered, trying to match my mood.

    ¡°What do you have in mind?¡±

    ¡°How about tonight we go for a picnic dinner down by the lake? Then, tomorrow I¡¯ll take you into D.C.?¡±

    I frowned. ¡°I¡¯m not allowed to go into the city, remember?¡±

    ¡°I bet if you call Dad he¡¯ll authorize it. We¡¯ll worry about it tomorrow, though. Tonight, I just want to be alone with you.¡±

    I beamed. I wanted to be alone with him, too. Erik¡¯s words about special favors from Mac ran through my head, and I knew I couldn¡¯t ask for permission to go to Washington. Mac would authorize it if I asked, but I didn¡¯t want to give anyone more ammunition against me. I would worry about that tomorrow.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡± I leaned down and kissed Donavon.

    We got hot turkey-gravy sandwiches, cranberry juice, and thick pieces of carrot cake¡ªmy favorite¡ªat one of the caf¨¦, and took the dinner and blankets to the lake. The lake here was much smaller than the lake at school, but it was still my favorite place at Elite Headquarters. We ate our sandwiches in comfortable silence, and I somehow managed not to spill any of the gravy on my shirt. The sun was going down on the other side of the lake. It was just at the height where it appeared to be sitting half in the water and half out. The temperature was perfect, and I felt comfortable in a short-sleeved shirt and light-weight pants. In short, everything about the night seemed perfect.

    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    ¡°Fancy a swim?¡± Donavon asked after we ate, twirling one of my curls around his finger.

    ¡°I don¡¯t have a suit,¡± I replied absently.

    ¡°You don¡¯t need one.¡±

    I snapped my head towards him and narrowed my eyes, understanding that by ¡°swim¡± he actually meant ¡°let¡¯s get naked¡±.

    ¡°You first,¡± I dared him with a confidence that I didn¡¯t feel.

    Donavon stood and stripped down to his underwear without hesitation. I tried to wiggle my eyebrows suggestively at him, as I¡¯d seen other girls do when they were flirting, but I felt more like my face was in spasms. It was a warm night, but not warm enough to be standing around practically naked. I could see the gooseflesh springing up across Donavon¡¯s exposed skin. I suddenly felt very nervous.

    ¡°Come on, Tal, your turn.¡±

    I hesitated. Donavon had seen me in my bathing suit on numerous occasions, but he¡¯d never actually seen me in my underwear. The mental and emotional connections that we shared were more intense than I imagined most people experienced in their lives, but our physical relationship was somewhat less evolved. I thought I wanted more, yet something always held me back. I knew that Donavon wanted more, and until recently, he¡¯d made every effort to keep his real thoughts from me. Lately though, his teenage hormones were overriding his regard for my feelings.

    Slowly, I stood and lifted my arms over my head. Donavon gripped the bottom of my shirt and took his time as he lifted it over my head. I had to remind myself to breathe normally, but my nervousness wouldn¡¯t let me. I reached for the drawstring on my pants, but my hands were numb, and I couldn¡¯t get the tie undone. Donavon gently pulled my fingers away. He knelt in front of me and kissed the space just below my bellybutton. I hugged my arms across my chest to keep from shaking. I held my breath as he untied the string, and the pants fell in a pool around my feet.

    Donavon held his hand out. I uncrossed my arms and took it, stepping out of the black fabric puddled around my ankles. I was trembling from head to toe. I was scared to meet his eyes.

    ¡°It¡¯s just me, Tal. You don¡¯t need to be nervous.¡±

    ¡°I know.¡±

    ¡°Look at me, Tal.¡± He was still on his knees. For once, I looked down at him instead of up. He wrapped his hands around my waist. His fingers felt warm against my bare skin. His light blue eyes clouded over and became heavy with longing. He looked me up and down, making me more self-conscious.

    ¡°So, I kinda assume we aren¡¯t actually swimming?¡± I tried to joke, attempting to mask my unease.

    ¡°No, no swimming.¡± His mental voice was husky.

    In one motion, he swept me off my feet and up into his arms. A nervous giggle escaped my lips. He laid me down on the blanket and leaned over me. He covered us both with the quilt he¡¯d taken from his bed. Donavon propped himself up on one elbow and bent over to plant his lips firmly on mine. I wrapped my arms around his neck, trying to match the intensity of his kiss. He ran the fingertips of his free hand lightly down my side, and the sensation made me shiver. His finger toyed with the edge of my boring cotton underwear. I immediately shrank away from his touch.

    Donavon pulled back. His eyes found mine. ¡°You still aren¡¯t sure about this, are you?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, Donavon.¡± I tried to look away. ¡°I just don¡¯t think I¡¯m ready.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Tal. I don¡¯t want you to do anything you aren¡¯t ready for.¡± He may have said it was okay, but I could tell that he didn¡¯t mean it. I could hear, and feel, the frustration dripping from each word. We¡¯d been having this conversation a lot lately.

    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, Donavon.¡± I meant it. I was sorry. Sorry that we had to keep repeating this same conversation.

    ¡°Stop,¡± his mental voice demanded. ¡°Stop apologizing. It just makes me feel bad. Just give me a minute.¡± He rolled over on to his back and took several deep breaths. I waited, my whole body tense, for him to say something, anything. Finally, he turned his head back to the side and met my eyes.

    ¡°Come here.¡±

    I crawled into his open arms. We lay like that for hours. He let his hands roam every once in a while, testing the waters. He ran his fingertips along my spine, down my arm, through my hair, across my cheek. While I could still feel his longing bubbling under the surface, I knew that he had no intention of trying anything else tonight. He didn¡¯t want to face rejection twice in one evening.

    I don¡¯t know what kept holding me back. I loved Donavon. I mean, I think I loved Donavon. From the first time I saw him, I had felt drawn to him. He was more than my boyfriend¡ªhe was my best friend. Granted, he was my only friend. Still, I knew that I wanted to be with him and only him. But for now, this was the intimacy I needed.

    It must¡¯ve been a mixture of anticipation earlier, coupled with all the craziness from the last couple of weeks, that set my nerves on edge, I reasoned with myself. Next time, I would be ready, or maybe the time after that¡­.

    ¡°I think we should head back,¡± Donavon said, after we had been laying there until well after curfew.

    ¡°Do we have to? If Henri is going to be mad at me, he¡¯s probably already mad at me. So, I might as well just stay out. Unless you¡¯re tired of me?¡± I teased him.

    ¡°I never get tired of you.¡± He sounded sincere.

    ¡°Good.¡± I smiled, not realizing until just then how worried I¡¯d been.

    ¡°But I really should get you back. Henri might be a little upset about you missing curfew, but he¡¯ll be furious if you don¡¯t come home at all,¡± Donavon reasoned. He got up and put on his rumpled clothes. Reluctantly, I followed suit.

    ¡°Tal?¡± he called hesitantly.

    ¡°Yeah?¡±

    ¡°I really do love you. I hope you know that.¡±

    ¡°I do.¡±

    Donavon walked me back to my cabin and kissed me goodbye. I eased the door open as slowly and quietly as I could manage. I slipped off my leather flip-flops and crept across the wooden floor boards on my toes. I lowered myself into bed, willing the springs not to squeak. I let out a sigh as my head made contact with the pillow. I was sure that Henri would ream me in the morning, but at least I could go to sleep in peace.

    ¡°Natalia?¡± Henri¡¯s voice cut through the silence.

    Crap.

    ¡°Yes?¡± I replied tentatively.

    ¡°This is your one pass. Don¡¯t miss curfew again.¡± He was trying to sound stern.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± I said quietly, trying to sound humble. ¡°Henri?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, Tal?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± I seemed to be saying that a lot tonight.

    ¡°I know.¡±

 Chapter Seven: The One with the Hovercraft

    ¡°Get up. Get up. Get up,¡± Erik sang the next morning.

    ¡°Go away. Go away. Go away,¡± I groaned, covering my head with a pillow.

    ¡°Go away?¡± he scoffed. ¡°We have a big day ahead of us, and the sooner you get up, the sooner we can get it started.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s my day off,¡± I whined.

    ¡°We have a surprise for you,¡± he tempted.

    ¡°I don¡¯t like surprises,¡± I countered.

    ¡°It wouldn¡¯t be a surprise if you had made curfew last night,¡± Henri cut in dryly.

    Guilt washed over me. I groaned again and threw the pillow in the direction that I judged Erik¡¯s voice to be coming from.

    ¡°Nice. All that sensory deprivation training really paid off,¡± Erik commended me as the pillow hit him with a soft thud.

    ¡°Thanks. Now, tell me my surprise,¡± I demanded, sitting up.

    ¡°You¡¯re so bossy in the morning,¡± Erik teased.

    ¡°We¡¯re taking you to D.C. for the day,¡± Henri announced.

    ¡°I¡¯m not allowed to go to the city, remember? I¡¯m just a lowly pledge.¡± I tried not to sound too disappointed.

    ¡°I already cleared it with Captain Alvarez, who in turn called the Director, who, of course, said you could go,¡± Henri replied dismissively.

    I expected Erik to make a snide remark, but for once he kept his mouth shut.

    ¡°Wow. Thanks, Henri.¡± Now I felt even worse about missing curfew last night.

    ¡°You can only come for the day,¡± he warned. ¡°The Director wouldn¡¯t budge on letting you stay down there after dark.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s okay. I¡¯m just so excited to get to go at all!¡± I exclaimed, jumping out of my bed.

    ¡°Then get ready already so we can leave,¡± Erik urged.

    I squealed happily and skipped to the bathroom.

    I absentmindedly hurried through my morning routine and opened up my mind to find Donavon. I could tell he was awake and in his cabin.

    ¡°Hey, guess what?¡± I sent.

    ¡°What?¡± His mental voice sounded sleepy, so I assumed he¡¯d just woken up.

    ¡°Henri cleared it with your Dad. I get to go to the city today!¡±

    ¡°With Henri and Erik?¡± He didn¡¯t sound happy.

    ¡°Well, yeah. I guess so we can spend bonding time, or whatever.¡± I tried to sound offhand, but I was really excited and I didn¡¯t want him ruining my mood.

    ¡°Oh, well, have fun, I guess,¡± he said, obviously irritated.

    ¡°I know you were hoping we could go together, but Henri went through the trouble of going to the Captain and calling your Dad¡­.¡± I started to apologize.

    ¡°No, it¡¯s fine. I¡¯ll take you another time,¡± he cut me off.

    ¡°I¡¯ll come find you when I get back,¡± I promised.

    ¡°Yeah, whatever.¡±

    I closed my mind again. He was killing my happy buzz.

    Elite Headquarters is located in West Virginia, about one hundred miles west of the nation¡¯s capital. The actual compound sat on several hundred acres of what used to be farmland but now boasted the latest and greatest technology that the world had to offer. The compound¡¯s stores sell anything a pledge or operative needs. In Washington, D.C., you could buy anything imaginable, and probably many things that I couldn¡¯t imagine. Erik, like many of the other operatives, frequented the city bars to pick up girls. However, pledges weren¡¯t usually allowed to visit the city, even on our days off. The idea was that pledges stationed at various other locations weren¡¯t afforded the same luxuries, so it wasn¡¯t fair.

    As a child, my parents and I had traveled constantly, never staying in one location for more than a couple of months. Since coming to live with Mac and his family, my travels have been limited. My relocation trip to Elite Headquarters was the first time I¡¯ve left the School¡¯s grounds since arriving there seven years ago. The notion that a large city existed, only a hover-ride away, has been making me restless.

    Donavon had completed his pledge year and graduated from school the year before. Since becoming a full-fledged Hunter, he had been taking full advantage of his newfound freedom. Sometimes, he brought me flaky pastries filled with chocolate or strawberry cream from the bakeries. Other times, he brought back lengths of embroidered silks to take home to Gretchen, so she could have outfits made for me. When he was feeling uninspired, he simply bought trinkets from the street vendors.

    Henri had reserved a hover-car for the day to drive the three of us the one hundred miles to Washington. I kept my face glued to the cold glass, watching as the dense woods surrounding Headquarters gave way to small farms and spread-out houses. We were still twenty miles outside of the city when the buildings became more dense and elaborate. The roadways beneath us were packed with bumper-to-bumper road vehicles. From our vantage point in the air, I suddenly saw the city materialize beneath us. I stared down in wonder.

    When we reached the outskirts of D.C., we flew straight through the border checkpoint without stopping. Ordinarily, all vehicles¡ªboth road and hover¡ªneed to stop, and the occupants are required to show identification. However, as we were in a clearly marked Agency car, we were able to sail through without pausing.

    I was overwhelmed the moment we landed. The buildings were tall and packed so close together; there was no space to walk in-between and the height restrictions were long forgotten. Most of the buildings were made of diffractive glass that changed color depending on where you stood. The architectural style varied from one building to the next, with no two looking exactly alike. I saw some buildings that were short and square, some tall and thin, and several topped with elaborate sphere-like structures. I even saw one hexagon-shaped building with a moving walkway that snaked around the periphery, taking people from street level all the way to the pinnacle. A sky railway arched high above the busy ground walkways, connecting the buildings.

    Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    The sky was dotted with small hover-cars¡ªthe primary mode of transportation; although, the streets inside D.C. were just as packed with road mobiles as the beltways surrounding the city. The population was so great that the occupants needed both types of cars to get around in a timely fashion.

    The men and women walking the streets were dressed in beautiful, albeit colorful, outfits. Many of the younger people had brightly colored hair that was dyed to match their clothing. I noticed a large number of people with unnatural eye colors similar to Erik¡¯s and mine. It wasn¡¯t rare to have untraditional eye colors. In fact, I was unsure why people still referred to my eye color as unnatural. Donavon had told me it was common for city kids to have their eye pigment altered, or in less extreme cases, wear colored lenses to get the ¡°unnatural¡± hue.

    The older women in Washington¡¯s shopping district wore vibrant silk dresses and intricately carved wooden high-heeled shoes. Many wore ropes of colored, glass stones around their necks and varying sizes of adornments in their ears. Some of the wealthier women even had glass beads braided into exquisite up-dos or bird feathers crowning their heads.

    Working-class men and women pushed their way through the crowded sidewalks, wearing cheaply made business attire in varying shades of gray and navy. They ducked into sandwich shops and greasy fast-food joints, trying to find the most expedient place to get food on their lunch breaks that were far too short. All of the women wore makeup. The older women seemed to favor simple shades that accentuated their natural features. Younger women, and even some teenagers, sported makeup so thick that their faces looked more like painted masks, designed to look like a caricature of the real person underneath.

    I felt extremely plain and naked in my navy cotton dress, thong sandals, and makeup-free face. At least I had my purplish-blue eyes and long spiral curls going for me. I did have more elaborate clothes in my closet at Headquarters, but I usually shied away from wearing them since none of the other pledges or operatives ever wore anything exciting.

    ¡°What do you think, Tals?¡± Erik interrupted my gazing.

    ¡°It¡¯s beautiful,¡± I replied honestly.

    ¡°Far cry from school, huh?¡±

    ¡°Sure is,¡± I agreed softly.

    The boys promised me a tour of their favorite places, and I¡¯d been worried that meant I would be spending the day becoming acquainted with the city¡¯s drinking establishments. My fears were put to rest when our first stop was a candy store. Erik showed me how to use the computer to design my own taffy flavors. We watched as large metal claws pulled and stretched long pieces of taffy, mixing and melding them to create my custom candies.

    After the candy store, our next stop was the Air, Space, and Technology Museum. There was a tour starting just as we passed through the entrance scanners. I figured we¡¯d join the group. Instead, we walked straight past the throng of people towards the first exhibit. It turned out that Henri was a frequent enough museum patron that he gave the tour better than any guide.

    For the rest of the morning, I followed the boys in and out of game shops, techie boutiques, clothing stores and several establishments that sold questionably legal merchandise. I tried to take it all in, but I was on sensory overload.

    After a full morning of shopping, we stopped for lunch at a restaurant that claimed to have ¡°The Best Apple Pie in the District¡±. There were so many cakes and pies on the menu that I considered just ordering dessert for lunch¡ªthen decided against spending the afternoon with a stomachache. I¡¯d never heard of many of the dishes on the menu, so I settled on cold octopus soup with spinach bread. Both the School and Headquarters rarely served any seafood, and I wanted to take advantage of the opportunity while in D.C.

    ¡°What else do you want to see before we go back?¡± Henri asked as we finished lunch.

    ¡°Can we see the ocean?¡± I asked hopefully. I knew the city was not actually near the ocean¡ªit was about another one hundred miles or so east¡ªyet I hoped that since we had the hover-car, it wouldn¡¯t be a problem. Driving on the road, the trip would take hours, but in a hover-car we could get there in just thirty minutes.

    ¡°I guess we could do that,¡± Henri answered with a shrug. ¡°Erik¡ªany complaints?¡±

    ¡°Have at it. You can take her to the ocean if you want. I think this might be where we part ways,¡± Erik answered.

    ¡°Do you have something better to do?¡± I demanded, for some reason offended that he wanted to run off so soon.

    ¡°Actually, I do.¡±

    I scowled at him. ¡°Fine. Be that way.¡± I turned to Henri, ¡°You don¡¯t mind, do you?¡±

    ¡°No, not at all. Erik, I¡¯ll meet up with you later tonight?¡± he asked.

    Erik nodded before heading out of the restaurant.

    Henri led me back to the towering, aboveground parking garage where we¡¯d left the hover-mobile, and we set off for the short trip to the beach. Even though it had been over one hundred years since the nuclear reactors had leaked waste contaminating the planet¡¯s oceans, very few people risked swimming. Instead, most people favored lakes and ponds¡ªfresh bodies of water that didn¡¯t connect to the ocean. As a result, the Eastern Shore beaches were relatively empty, and we were able to land the hover-mobile right in the sand. I impatiently waited for Henri to pop the glass covering. Once he did, I kicked off my shoes and jumped over the side of the car, landing in the soft sand.

    I inhaled deeply and closed my eyes. The smell of saltwater and seaweed filled my nostrils. I inhaled a little deeper and concentrated my mental energy towards expanding my sense of smell. I could pick up traces of fish and kelp mixed with oil from the fishing boats. I found it contradictory that people would eat the ocean life, but refused to swim in the water. I exhaled happily.

    The breeze coming off the water was cool, but the sand was warm from the afternoon sun. I dropped to my knees and picked up handful after handful of sand, letting it trickle through my splayed fingers. If I kept my eyes closed, I could pretend that I was a little girl on the rocky beach of Capri.

    When I was very young, before we started moving around, my family lived in a stone house built into the bluffs overlooking the Tyrrhenian Sea. My mother would take me down to the beach at the base of the bluffs and let me play in the pinkish-orange sand. I would collect bottles of the sand and take it back to the house. I painstakingly sorted out the pink and orange grains under a magnifying lens. My mother knew that the colored sand was a byproduct of the ocean contamination, but she never ruined my fascination by revealing the truth.

    The sand on the beach at the Eastern Shore was not pink or orange but rather a dark brownish-black. The water here was also a dark, muddy brown¡ªa stark contrast to the clear, sparkling water of the Tyrrhenian Sea. I kept my eyes closed and walked towards the sound of the waves lapping the shore. I heard Henri calling my name over the breaking of the waves, warning me not to get in the water. I ignored his counsel and walked until I could feel the water swirling around my ankles. I stood there inhaling the salty spray until my feet had sunk so deeply into the wet sand that Henri had to help me out.

    As the sun began to sink lower behind us, I knew my time at the beach had come to an end. Mac had said I needed to be back by dark, and I didn¡¯t want Henri getting in trouble on my account. We rode back to Headquarters in silence.

    ¡°Thanks for today,¡± I said sincerely, when we pulled into the parking bay of Elite Headquarters.

    ¡°You deserve it; you¡¯ve been working so hard.¡±

    ¡°I still appreciate it. It was nice of you to go to the trouble of getting permission from the Captain to let me go.¡± I didn¡¯t want him to think I expected special treatment because of Mac or Donavon or whomever else.

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t a big deal. After all, being practically related to the Director does have its perks.¡± He winked at me to let me know he was, at least, partially joking.

    I smiled. ¡°I¡¯ll see you later.¡±

    I jumped out and watched as he took off back to the city to join Erik for the evening.

 Chapter Eight: The One with the New Friend

    I didn¡¯t go back to my own cabin. Instead, I went directly to Donavon¡¯s. I raised my hand to knock just as the door opened.

    ¡°Hey, you.¡± Donavon smiled as he leaned down to kiss me softly. ¡°You smell like the ocean.¡± He buried his face in my mass of dark brown curls and inhaled deeply.

    ¡°Henri took me out to the beach after we roamed around Washington.¡± I smiled.

    ¡°You okay?¡± Donavon had seen my sand collection. It was one of the few things Mac had managed to rescue from the hotel room where he found me. He¡¯d placed the jar on the bedside table in my bedroom before I¡¯d arrived at his home that first day.

    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m good,¡± I replied honestly. ¡°You look nice,¡± I commented as I pulled back from his embrace, really looking at him for the first time.

    ¡°You think? Would you come home with me if you met me at a bar?¡± he teased.

    ¡°Absolutely. But if you stay here, you don¡¯t even have to spend money for me to go home with you,¡± I teased.

    ¡°Tomorrow, I¡¯m all yours. Tonight, I promised Harris and Arden a little team bonding.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡± Now it was my turn to be irritated.

    ¡°Are you mad?¡±

    ¡°No, of course not,¡± I lied.

    ¡°You¡¯re lying,¡± he accused.

    ¡°I¡¯m not mad. I just don¡¯t like that I have to stay here while you get to go have fun.¡± I tried to smile.

    ¡°You hate going out with groups of people anyway,¡± he reasoned.

    ¡°But I like being with you.¡± My voice was just short of a whine.

    ¡°And I love being with you,¡± he said softly. ¡°And all day tomorrow that¡¯s what I plan to do, okay?¡±

    ¡°Okay,¡± I whispered.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Tal. I¡¯ll make sure he behaves,¡± Harris said, sticking his sandy blonde head out through the bathroom door.

    ¡°I¡¯m not worried, Harris,¡± I said, pulling myself together.

    ¡°Good, ¡®cause we have to go. Come on, Donavon, kiss her goodbye so we can leave.¡±

    ¡°Start walking, Harris. I¡¯ll catch up.¡±

    Harris squeezed my arm as he walked by, and I gave him a nod goodbye.

    ¡°I love you.¡± Donavon said as he bent down to kiss me again.

    ¡°I know.¡±

    I headed back to my cabin in a far worse mood than when I¡¯d left that morning. The bottom of my dress was still damp from the ocean, so the first thing I needed to do was change. With Donavon gone, I didn¡¯t really have any friends around, so there wouldn¡¯t be any messages on my Communicator.

    Our Communicators were actually portable, but I never took mine anywhere, since no one besides Donavon and Mac ever called. Unlike my dorm room at School, that was equipped with all of the latest technology TOXIC had to offer, the cabins at Elite Headquarters were barebones. The idea was that, as Hunters, we spent a lot of time in less-than-ideal situations, and we needed to be accustomed to boredom.

    As I crossed Hunters Village, I noticed a tall, gangly girl with unnaturally bright red hair coming out of the woods. Her eyes were large and a luminous shade of green. Her oversized yellow plastic glasses gave her a bug-eyed appearance. The Agency performs corrective eye surgery on all students, so I knew the glasses were purely decorative.

    ¡°Hi!¡± she greeted me with an enthusiastic wave.

    I glanced around, unsure if she was actually speaking to me. I was the only other person in the vicinity. I returned her wave uneasily and waited for her to get closer.

    ¡°I¡¯m Penelope. Well, Penny, actually. Everybody calls me Penny,¡± she said, sounding a little out of breath.

    ¡°Talia,¡± I replied cautiously, not sure what to make of her.

    ¡°You¡¯re a pledge, right? A Hunter pledge?¡±

    ¡°Um, yeah.¡± Obviously, I thought. I live in Hunters Village. Be nice, I chastised myself. She was just trying to be friendly.

    ¡°Cool. I¡¯m a Crypto pledge. I know most of the operatives are in the city tonight and a bunch of us pledges were going to get together and hang out.¡±

    ¡°Cool,¡± I replied, for lack of something better to say.

    ¡°You want to come?¡± she asked, her eyes were like big green saucers as she looked at me expectantly.

    I started to shake my head and tell her thanks, but no thanks, when instead I said, ¡°Sure,¡± before I could stop myself.

    ¡°Great! The others are already down by the lake starting a bonfire. I¡¯ll wait if you want to get some warmer clothes?¡± she suggested, scrutinizing my wet dress.

    I gave her a small smile. Still unsure what made me agree to this, I led her to my cabin. Donavon was out with his friends having fun, probably getting drunk, so I should enjoy myself, too.

    Penny followed me through the doorway and made herself at home on my bed while I searched for something to wear. I grabbed a gray sweater, jeans, and a pair of beat-up tennis shoes and ducked in the bathroom to change.

    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    ¡°Ready?¡± Penny asked brightly when I emerged.

    ¡°Sure.¡± I smiled tentatively.

    Penny kept up a constant stream of chatter as we wound through the woods on an unlit dirt path. I led the way down to the lake since my eyesight was inevitably better than Penny¡¯s¡ªon account of all the sensory training I¡¯d done.

    The flames and distinct aroma of campfire greeted me before we made it to the lake. I could hear the low hum of voices, but the people were still too far away to make out exactly what they were saying. Once we drew closer, I saw a strange mix of pledges huddled around the blaze.

    Only two groups of pledges were housed at Elite Headquarters, the Hunters and Cryptos. The two couldn¡¯t be more different. Every talent was classified as extremely-low, low, mid-range, high, extremely-high, or elite. The only thing Hunters and Cryptos had in common was that they both required a talent ranking of extremely-high or elite. The Hunters mostly had physical abilities, trained in combat and weapons, and were frequently Morphers. Cryptos, or Brains, were all mental and most possessed higher reasoning.

    There were fifteen Hunter pledges at Headquarters, including myself. I had no idea how many Brain pledges there were, but about twenty were sitting around the fire. I followed Penny to an empty blanket set up near the fire and took a seat.

    ¡°No Donavon tonight, Talia?¡± quipped a short, stocky Hunter pledge named Laris. He handed me a bottle filled with pink, fruity-smelling alcohol, similar to the one he was drinking.

    ¡°Not tonight. He¡¯s in the city,¡± I replied thinly. I accepted the drink and took a nervous sip. I had never been a fan of Laris, and I knew for a fact that the feeling was mutual. He was antagonistic and combative, which made our personalities incompatible.

    ¡°Donavon McDonough?¡± Penny asked excitedly.

    ¡°Um, yup,¡± I took another sip of my too-sweet drink.

    ¡°Are you friends with him?¡± Penny¡¯s eyes grew even larger. I wouldn¡¯t have thought it possible.

    ¡°More than friends,¡± Laris interjected suggestively. I shot him a nasty glare.

    ¡°Oh. My. God. Are you dating the Director¡¯s son?¡± Penny was so delighted she was bouncing, splashing her own drink down her shirt, and not noticing.

    ¡°Yeah, sorta,¡± I mumbled.

    Most of the pledges sitting around us were now listening to our conversation. I was starting to feel uncomfortable, and I wanted to direct the attention elsewhere. I didn¡¯t actually know many of the people around the fire, so I picked the one person I did know¡ªLaris. I concentrated my thoughts in his direction and willed him to stand up and start dancing. Given more time, I might have thought of something more original, but I panicked. Thankfully, my plan worked, and everybody turned their attention to Laris. He looked a little confused but continued gyrating to music that was only playing in his head, eating up the attention. I nervously sipped my drink.

    ¡°So, how do you like it here? Isn¡¯t it so much better than being at School?¡± Penny asked, returning her attention to me.

    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s loads better than being at School.¡± I smiled at her. I took another sip of my drink. ¡°The food here is so much better,¡± I elaborated, trying to keep up my end of the conversation.

    ¡°Totally! And the apartments are more techie,¡± she exclaimed.

    ¡°You¡¯re so lucky. We¡¯re stuck in those old-fashioned cabins,¡± I lamented. I took another sip, already starting to feel a little buzzed.

    ¡°Oh, right! You totally have to come see my room. You¡¯ll love it! I have all these cool gadgets and stuff. Some I haven¡¯t even figured out yet, but I¡¯m sure I will. Maybe you could help? I mean, you¡¯ll be using some of it once you, like, start going on hunts and stuff.¡±

    I wasn¡¯t sure if it was the alcohol, or if Penny was always like this. I took another sip of my drink, enjoying the buzz.

    ¡°Thanks, that would be really cool.¡± That was definitely the alcohol in me talking. I¡¯d never gone out of my way before to make friends. In fact, Donavon was the only real friend that I had. So, my sitting here with Penny and agreeing to hang out again was next to a miracle. The even bigger miracle¡ªI was actually enjoying myself. Something about Penny put me at ease. She was genuinely nice, and her friendly, outgoing personality seemed to rub off on me in a way nobody else¡¯s ever had. I found myself laughing, and even gossiping, with the other pledges.

    ¡°I heard your Team Cap got you permission to go into the city today,¡± said Jon, another Hunter pledge, as I was on my second¡ªmaybe third?¡ª drink.

    Oh, great, I thought. I was actually enjoying hanging out with these people and now they were going to think the worst of me.

    ¡°Um, yeah, but you know, it was just for the day. Mac said I couldn¡¯t stay the night,¡± I mumbled. I realized my mistake immediately. I always referred to the Director as Mac, but I was one of the few people¡ªand definitely the only pledge¡ªthat did.

    ¡°What¡¯s D.C. like?¡± Jon asked.

    ¡°It was cool. I didn¡¯t get to see any of the bars or anything. We just went shopping.¡± I tried to downplay it.

    ¡°You¡¯re so lucky. I¡¯m from Johnson City, Tennessee and I¡¯ve never been anywhere bigger than that. I asked my Cap if I could go with them, and he said no way,¡± Jon drawled in a thick Southern accent.

    ¡°Henri¡¯s pretty cool about stuff,¡± I muttered, wanting to change the topic.

    ¡°I know. My older brother knew him in school, and I had hoped I would get assigned to his team when I got here. Guess you¡¯re the lucky one.¡±

    I smiled and nodded.

    ¡°No, she¡¯s lucky ¡®cause she shares a cabin with Erikson,¡± a blonde girl, whose name I couldn¡¯t remember, slurred. I laughed a little too loudly.

    ¡°Does he sleep naked?¡± another girl inquired.

    ¡°Nope,¡± I giggled. ¡°But he does sleep without a shirt,¡± I added, happy that the topic had changed to something else besides my relationship with Mac.

    ¡°Oh. My. God!¡± Penny shrieked. ¡°I¡¯m totally jealous.¡±

    Discussions of Erik dominated the conversation for several more minutes until the boys in the group couldn¡¯t handle it any longer. Thankfully, they steered the discussion towards somebody I didn¡¯t know.

    The rest of the evening went by in a blur. I spent most of the time talking to Penny, but I also chatted with Laris and a couple of the other Hunter pledges that I knew from School. I don¡¯t remember exactly how many of the fruity pink drinks I had. Since I had never had alcohol before in my life, I knew it was too many, but I didn¡¯t care. I was really having a good time.

    Before I knew it, somebody announced that we needed to get back before curfew. Penny, my new best friend, and I giggled as we made our way back up the dirt path, holding on to each other to keep from falling down. Once we reached the clearing with my cabin, I began tiptoeing, which was not easy since my balance was already off-kilter. Penny and I said our goodbyes, and I watched her skip off with a group of Crypto pledges. I reached the door to my cabin and used my mind to shove it open, since I wasn¡¯t feeling coordinated enough to turn the knob. I pushed it a little too hard and the door flung open with a bang. I nearly collapsed in a fit of giggles.

    I tried to be quiet as I walked in, but every step I took caused the floorboards to creak. Remembering the door, I used my mind to close it behind me. It banged shut again, much more forcefully than I¡¯d intended. I cringed. Then I tripped over nothing, probably my own feet, and fell over giggling, crawling the rest of the way to my bed. I heaved myself up into my bed, falling back onto my pillows with a sigh of relief. The excursion across the room had left me exhausted. I closed my eyes and had almost succumbed to the alcohol-induced slumber, when I felt somebody playing with my shoes.

    ¡°Henri? I¡¯m sorry. Did I miss curfew?¡± I mumbled.

    ¡°No, you didn¡¯t.¡± The voice didn¡¯t belong to Henri.

    The person was trying to take my shoes off, but his touch tickled. I started giggling again.

    ¡°Relax, Tal. Let me take your shoes off.¡±

    A hand firmly gripped my ankle, and I finally felt my shoes slide off my feet. I heard footsteps and then water running in the bathroom. A quilt was pulled up around my shoulders. I felt a hand pushing down on the bed as my savior knelt beside me. I pried my eyes open and saw beautiful turquoise eyes staring back at me.

    ¡°There¡¯s water right here on your nightstand,¡± Erik said. ¡°Just yell if you need anything.¡±

    ¡°Your eyes are the same color as the Tyrrhenian Sea,¡± I mumbled.

    Erik laughed softly.

    ¡°Maybe one day I¡¯ll see if that¡¯s true,¡± he whispered.

    I smiled. ¡°Mmmm. It¡¯s pretty there.¡±

    ¡°Close your eyes and go to sleep, Tal.¡±

    ¡°That sounds like a good idea.¡±

    ¡°Night, Tal.¡±

    ¡°Night, Erik.¡±

 Chapter Nine: The One with the Consequences

    A pounding in my head woke me up the next morning. My tongue felt thick and hairy, and my olfactory senses were assaulted by the smell of stale campfire. I lay awake for several minutes but refused to open my eyes, instinctively knowing that would make my head hurt worse. The sunlight streaming through the window made the back of my eyelids a reddish-orange. I moaned and covered my face with a pillow.

    ¡°Drink the water, Natalia,¡± Erik demanded from across the room. He sounded irritated.

    ¡°Water?¡± I croaked.

    ¡°The water I left next to your bed last night. Remember?¡±

    No, I didn¡¯t remember, but I reached blindly towards my nightstand anyway. My hand closed around a glass, warm from sitting out all night. I grabbed it and, without opening my eyes, sat up just enough to drink the entire glass, spilling a minimal amount down my shirt. I replaced the glass on the nightstand and fell back onto my bed. The springs on Erik¡¯s bed squeaked loudly as he got up. I groaned. Erik¡¯s bare footsteps sounded louder than normal as he padded across the room. He took the glass and trudged in the direction of the bathroom. The water ran for several seconds and then Erik turned it off and made his way back to me. He set the glass down heavily. I cringed.

    ¡°Drink it,¡± he ordered.

    I opened my eyes for the first time and immediately regretted it. I squinted up at Erik and took in his disheveled bed head and naked torso. It wasn¡¯t the first time I¡¯d seen him shirtless¡ªhe normally slept in just his boxers¡ªbut for some reason this was the first time I appreciated exactly how great he looked without his shirt. Snippets from last night¡¯s conversation about Erik danced through my head, and I blushed. He gave me an odd look.

    When I didn¡¯t reach for the water, Erik picked it up and handed it to me. ¡°Drink it,¡± he repeated.

    I took it and gulped down my second glass of the day. The liquid sloshed in my stomach, making me queasy. I lay back down.

    ¡°Oh no, you don¡¯t. You¡¯re getting up and getting dressed so I can take you to medical.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± I whined. ¡°I¡¯m not sick.¡±

    ¡°Because you¡¯re dehydrated. That¡¯s what¡¯s giving you the splitting headache. The medics can give you fluids to rehydrate you. You¡¯ll feel better in no time.¡±

    ¡°Why do you care how I feel? You don¡¯t think I should suffer for my sins?¡± I asked suspiciously.

    ¡°I do think you should suffer, but I don¡¯t think I should have to.¡±

    I stared at him blankly.

    ¡°Have you ever been drunk before, Talia?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± I answered grudgingly. I didn¡¯t know why, but I was embarrassed to admit to him that I was a hangover virgin.

    ¡°Well, for the sake of those around you, don¡¯t make a habit of it. You¡¯re projecting your hangover onto me.¡±

    I knew that I could force my will onto others, but I¡¯d never accidentally transferred my thoughts or feelings to another person. I briefly wondered if I could do it to anybody or if Erik was unique because I spent so much time communicating with him mentally. Or maybe it was because he could mimic my talents, making a connection easier.

    ¡°You¡¯re killing me, Tals,¡± he said tiredly.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I mumbled. ¡°I¡¯m not doing it on purpose.¡±

    ¡°I know.¡± His voice softened. ¡°But I can¡¯t seem to block you. I didn¡¯t have the pleasure of getting drunk last night, so I¡¯m not really up to paying the consequences this morning.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I said again. I clamored out of bed and trudged to the bathroom. I peeled off my sweater from the night before and suppressed the urge to vomit as the smell of campfire overwhelmed me again. I quickly changed into clean clothes and wound my tangled curls in a bun away from my face.

    ¡°Tal, we¡¯re just going to the medical building. You don¡¯t need to impress anybody,¡± Erik called from the main room, sounding quite annoyed.

    I opened the door and smiled apologetically. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    ¡°So you¡¯ve said. Come on,¡± he ordered, gesturing for me to follow him.

    ¡°Where¡¯s Henri?¡± I asked, noticing for the first time he wasn¡¯t there.

    ¡°He spent the night in the city,¡± Erik replied shortly, ushering me out of the cabin.

    ¡°Henri met a girl?¡± I did nothing to hide my shock. Henri was so responsible and controlled. I couldn¡¯t imagine he was the type to pick up a girl at a bar and go home with her.

    ¡°Not exactly.¡± Erik didn¡¯t elaborate.

    ¡°Did he meet a boy?¡± I joked.

    Erik abruptly stopped walking and turned to face me.

    ¡°How did you know that?¡± he demanded.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t,¡± I stammered. ¡°I just figured if he didn¡¯t meet a girl, then maybe he met a boy.¡±

    Erik gave me a hard look.

    ¡°I don¡¯t see what the big deal is,¡± I continued.

    ¡°It¡¯s not a big deal,¡± Erik sighed. ¡°He¡¯s just a really private person and doesn¡¯t want everyone discussing his personal life.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t say anything,¡± I promised quickly.

    ¡°I know. He¡¯ll probably tell you, anyway. And he didn¡¯t meet a boy at a bar. His boyfriend, Frederick, lives in D.C. They¡¯ve been together for a few years now. He usually spends a couple of nights a week down there with him. With you here though, he wanted to seem available and be around at curfew, so he hasn¡¯t been staying the night.¡±

    I wasn¡¯t sure how to respond, so I didn¡¯t.

    We walked the rest of the way in silence. When we entered the medical building, Erik went directly to the receptionist and said something to her in a low voice. I saw her nod and then he turned and waved me over. I followed Erik down a back hallway. We entered a room where a chubby, young medic was sitting with his feet propped up on a desk, playing with his Communicator.

    ¡°Hey, Zach,¡± Erik greeted the guy. ¡°I need a hangover shot.¡±

    Zach smirked. ¡°You got it.¡±

    ¡°Zach and I were friends at school,¡± Erik explained, turning his attention to me.

    ¡°Hey,¡± I said to Zach.

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    He gave me a small nod of acknowledgment, then got up and grabbed a couple of vials from the cabinet. He mixed several serums together and then filled a syringe with his concoction.

    ¡°Hop up on the table, big boy,¡± he said to Erik.

    ¡°Not me¡­ her,¡± Erik replied, pointing to me. I climbed onto the table and turned my head away as Zach injected me with his mixture.

    ¡°Thanks,¡± I mumbled.

    ¡°Happy to help,¡± he grinned.

    ¡°Yeah, Zach, I owe you one. I¡¯ll catch up with you later in the week,¡± Erik thanked him.

    ¡°Sounds good. Feel better.¡± He directed his last statement towards me.

    I smiled at Zach and let Erik lead me out of the room.

    No sooner had we walked out of the medical building then¡ª

    ¡°Talia!¡± a high-pitched voice squealed.

    Erik groaned, rubbing his temples.

    ¡°Hey, Penny,¡± I said, smiling as she ran towards us with her fire-engine-red hair flying behind her.

    ¡°Oh my gosh, I feel so crappy this morning!¡± she exclaimed. ¡°Note to self¡ªsugary drinks hit you hard.¡±

    ¡°Ha ha, yeah,¡± I agreed.

    Erik groaned again.

    ¡°Oh, Penny, this is Erik. Erik, this is Penny,¡± I said, introducing them to each other. Erik just nodded at her.

    ¡°Oh my gosh, hi!¡± Penny extended her hand to Erik. Erik shook it hesitantly. ¡°I¡¯ve heard so much about you. All of the girls in the Crypto unit talk about you all the time!¡±

    Erik wasn¡¯t even fazed. ¡°I seem to have that effect on girls,¡± he said dryly.

    ¡°I was thinking maybe we could do something later?¡± Penny said, turning to me.

    ¡°Um, sure. Why don¡¯t you send me a Comm?¡± I replied, referring to the messages we sent each other using our Communicators.

    ¡°Great! Well then, I¡¯ll talk to you later!¡± Her excitement was draining what little energy I had. ¡°It was so cool to meet you!¡± she said to Erik.

    ¡°Likewise,¡± Erik amusingly replied. I wondered if girls normally acted like this around him.

    ¡°I see you made a friend,¡± Erik said, sounding slightly more animated after Penny walked away.

    ¡°Yeah, I guess I did.¡± I smiled.

    ¡°Don¡¯t look so surprised. If you gave people a chance, you would have a fan club, too.¡±

    ¡°I give people a chance,¡± I retorted defensively.

    ¡°No, you don¡¯t.¡± He laughed. ¡°You¡¯re stuck in your own closed-off world with Donavon.¡± He said Donavon¡¯s name like it was a dirty word.

    ¡°I gave you a chance, didn¡¯t I?¡± I joked.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t have a choice,¡± he pointed out.

    I was thinking about what he said as we walked a couple of yards without speaking.

    ¡°Tal! I¡¯ve been looking all over for you,¡± Donavon called, jogging over to us.

    ¡°Oh, shit,¡± Erik muttered. ¡°I¡¯m going back to the cabin.¡± He started walking away.

    ¡°Erik?¡± I called after him. He stopped walking. ¡°Thanks for everything. And really, I am sorry.¡±

    He smiled, turned back around, and kept walking.

    ¡°What happened last night?¡± Donavon¡¯s mental voice demanded.

    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± I sent back cautiously.

    ¡°You were drunk.¡± It wasn¡¯t a question.

    ¡°I had some drinks with friends.¡± I tried to keep my mental voice even.

    ¡°What friends? You haven¡¯t been interested in making friends in the seven years I¡¯ve known you.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± I corrected. ¡°I haven¡¯t had any interest in being friends with your friends.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong with my friends?¡± His mental voice was shouting.

    ¡°Nothing is wrong with your friends, except that they¡¯re your friends. Like Laris, since I assume that¡¯s how you know I was drinking last night.¡±

    ¡°Yes, that is, in fact, who told me. Laris was worried, so he left me a Comm. How do you think I felt when I came home last night to find out that my girlfriend was so drunk that she couldn¡¯t walk herself home?¡± he demanded.

    ¡°Oh, Laris was worried? Worried?! No, I doubt he was worried. He just couldn¡¯t wait to call and tell you all about it!¡± I was so frustrated and angry that I was close to tears.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be mad at Laris. I sent you a ton of Comms last night and this morning, and you didn¡¯t return any of them. What were you doing? What happened after you went back to your cabin? And why were you drinking in the first place?¡±

    ¡°What the hell are you talking about? Nothing happened after I went back to my cabin. I passed out. And why is this such a big deal? Weren¡¯t you drinking last night, too?¡±

    ¡°Yes, I was drinking. But I drink. You don¡¯t. And I don¡¯t appreciate you getting drunk for the first time without me.¡±

    ¡°This is ridiculous, Donavon. I don¡¯t understand why you¡¯re so pissed. I didn¡¯t do anything wrong. I¡¯m going back to my cabin. I cannot deal with you right now.¡± I started walking away.

    ¡°Back to your cabin, or back to Erik?¡± Donavon screamed after me.

    ¡°What?¡± I rounded on him. ¡°What does Erik have to do with this?¡±

    ¡°I just find it a little convenient that Erik came home early last night. The first night he has ever left the city bars without a girl on his arm just so happens to be the first night you ever get drunk?¡±

    ¡°Have you lost it? I refuse to dignify that with a response.¡±

    I stomped towards my cabin. My head started throbbing again but this time it was from the blood pounding in my ears and not from my hangover. Donavon called my name, but I didn¡¯t care.

    I ran straight through Hunters Village and down the same path I¡¯d led Penny on the night before. I didn¡¯t stop until I reached the water¡¯s edge. A cold sweat was running down my back and my shirt stuck to my skin. My breath was ragged. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn¡¯t get it under control. I fell to my knees on the shore, rocks biting into my skin through my thin pants.

    The audacity of Donavon to accuse me of inappropriate behavior infuriated me. I had refused to cry in front of Donavon but now tears of frustration poured hot and angry down my cheeks. I jumped to my feet and began pacing along the bank of the lake. My head was spinning so fast, the world around me blurred into a collage of colors that was made worse by the tears obscuring my vision. For a brief moment, I hated myself for letting Donavon affect me so profoundly. In my rage, I wasn¡¯t paying attention to my feet; I tripped, and because I was caught off guard, my superb reflexes failed me. Unable to get my hands out in time to break my fall, my forehead struck the trunk of a felled tree with a loud crack.

    Dazed and disoriented, I laid in the sand. The lake water lapped against my legs until I felt strong arms lift me from the ground. I didn¡¯t have the energy to speak, so I settled for resting my head against the hard chest of my savior. My barely-conscious brain hoped that it was Henri. I couldn¡¯t stand having Erik save me twice in one day.

    ¡°She¡¯s soaked,¡± I heard Henri comment.

    ¡°What¡¯s she doing out here?¡± Erik sounded perplexed.

    ¡°Who knows? Let¡¯s just get her back and dry her off,¡± Henri replied.

    I tried to speak but found it difficult to form words over the pain in my head. I tried to focus on the rhythm of Henri¡¯s footsteps, but I passed out before we made it more than a couple of steps.

    I woke up in my bed sometime after the sun had set. I was wrapped in several blankets, including Henri¡¯s quilt. Frantically, I flipped the covers back and looked down at myself. I was dressed in dry clothes. I shot up and looked around the room in a panic. Erik chuckled from the corner of the cabin.

    ¡°How are you feeling?¡± he asked, concerned.

    ¡°Who dressed me?¡± I demanded, ignoring his question.

    ¡°I did,¡± Henri said, coming through the door to the cabin.

    ¡°I helped.¡± Penny¡¯s voice came from somewhere behind Henri, but his massive frame blocked her.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Tal, I promise I didn¡¯t enjoy it, you¡¯re not really my type,¡± Henri joked.

    ¡°Thanks.¡± I smiled, feeling more than a little humiliated.

    ¡°Penny and I brought dinner, so I hope you¡¯re hungry,¡± Henri continued, ignoring my discomfort.

    ¡°What are you doing here, Penny?¡± I asked, then immediately felt bad since she¡¯d obviously been helpful earlier.

    ¡°She was blowing up your Communicator, so I answered and she insisted on coming over,¡± Erik answered for her.

    ¡°She proved very useful when it came to getting you cleaned up and dressed,¡± Henri said pointedly.

    ¡°Did everybody see me naked?¡± I asked, completely mortified.

    ¡°Unfortunately, I didn¡¯t have the pleasure,¡± Erik quipped.

    ¡°You must be hungry. Take your pick,¡± Henri said, changing the subject. He held out four wrapped deli sandwiches, and I grabbed one at random. Henri handed one to Penny and took the other two to the table, sitting opposite Erik. Penny sat on the end of my bed and spread out her dinner. We all dug in, the room quiet except for the sound of crinkling paper and chewing.

    The four of us spent the night hanging out, playing cards, and talking. I was able to put the fight with Donavon out of my mind and actually enjoy myself. I couldn¡¯t remember the last time I¡¯d had so much fun.

    Sometime just before curfew, Henri offered to walk Penny back to her apartment.

    ¡°Thanks for tonight,¡± I said to Erik after they¡¯d left.

    ¡°No big deal.¡± He looked uncharacteristically embarrassed.

    ¡°Yes, it is. I¡¯m sure you and Henri would have preferred going out in the city, instead of spending the night with me and Penny.¡±

    ¡°Nah, I needed a break. And Penny¡¯s cooler than I would¡¯ve thought; a little hyper, but nice.¡± He sounded amused when he talked about Penny and a brief jolt of something that I thought might be jealousy hit me. I quickly dismissed it.

    ¡°Thanks all the same.¡±

    ¡°Night, Talia,¡± he called, pulling the covers up and turning to face the wall.

    ¡°Night.¡±

    I closed my eyes and tried to go to sleep, but my mind kept replaying the fight with Donavon. I briefly contemplated reaching out to him. He hadn¡¯t left me any Communications, so I figured he was still mad. We never fought. I didn¡¯t know what to expect.

    Curiosity finally got the better of me, and I opened my mind. Donavon was in his cabin, and he was definitely still seething. My good mood vanished. I closed my mind and again willed myself to fall asleep. I had never actually attempted to force my will on myself, so I doubted it would work. To my surprise, I was fast asleep before Henri returned.

 Chapter Ten: The One with the Tech Lesson

    The next morning I was up bright and early and back to training. We spent the morning in the usual way, working on our mental connection. By lunchtime, I was exhausted but felt good about our progress. I¡¯d successfully maintained the connection the whole morning, and my physical strength had barely waned. Thankfully, our afternoon schedule included a session with the Brains.

    Erik and Henri had both been trained extensively in the use of the portable electronic devices, so the training was just a refresher for them. I spent the first half of the afternoon just learning how to use a portable computer. An older Crypto named Bhen demonstrated, no less than five times, the sequence I needed to follow just to login. Next, he showed me the appropriate technique for typing on the keyboard. I thought he was treating me like a moron, until I tried it myself and realized that only every fourth letter or number I hit actually registered. He showed me again.

    Sometimes on missions, Hunters were compromised, necessitating a hasty retreat. In rare cases, leaving behind belongings, like Crypto gadgets, couldn¡¯t be avoided. The tools held so much vital data that it would be disastrous to TOXIC if it fell into enemy hands. The only way to prevent this was to put biometric fail-safes on all of the devices. Prior to departing for a hunt, Cryptos would program scans of each team member into the gadgets so that we were the only people who could access them.

    ¡°What am I doing wrong?¡± I begged Bhen, frustrated when I still couldn¡¯t understand it.

    ¡°You need to be sure that your whole finger hits the key, so the tiny sensor has enough time to register your fingerprint. If the computer can¡¯t register your print, it won¡¯t type the letter,¡± he explained. ¡°It¡¯s hard at first, but you¡¯ll get used to it.¡±

    I looked at him doubtfully but kept at it, refusing to admit defeat.

    Next, we moved on to heat scanners. Bhen walked me around Headquarters, letting me scan buildings to observe the images on the screen, outlining the people inside. I¡¯d never actually used a heat scanner before, but it was far more simple than typing. Much to my dismay, we didn¡¯t spend too long with it.

    For any other pledge, the day would¡¯ve ended with Bhen teaching me to use the earpieces that most Hunters employed to communicate while on a mission. Since that was not necessary, on account of our built-in telecommunication system, he taught me to use a medical body scanner instead.

    The body scanner allowed us to see a person¡¯s organs and innards through clothing and skin. That way, if one of us were injured, we¡¯d be able to assess the internal damage. Bhen let me run the scanner over his mid-section so I could see his organs, and over his legs and arms to see bones. It was oddly fascinating.

    By the end of the afternoon, my brain was buzzing with all the newly-acquired knowledge. The new technologies I¡¯d been acquainted with unnerved me. As if all the other things I had to remember weren¡¯t enough, now I had to learn to use all of these new contraptions, too? Maybe I¡¯d ask Penny for help with the portable computer. The one she used every day had the same fingerprint-scan technology.

    That evening, Henri, Erik, and I sat on the wooden floor of our cabin, pouring over floor plans and intel that the Cryptos had accumulated for our upcoming mission. Henri spent a lot of the time explaining to me how to read the intel documents, since they mostly looked like gibberish to the untrained eye¡ªmine. When I finally crawled into bed, long past midnight, my eyes were red-rimmed and dry from all of the laborious staring. My muscles were knotted from sitting in the same, hunched-over position for so long.

    Donavon hadn¡¯t attempted to talk to me all day. I didn¡¯t reach out to him, either. I felt that I was owed an apology, and my stubborn nature demanded that I not be the first one to crack. Right before I drifted off to sleep, I opened my mind to take a peek in to his, to see if he was thinking about me and feeling sorry about the way he¡¯d acted. Unfortunately, he was asleep.

    The rest of the week progressed in the same manner: mental communication training, practicing with the gadgets, studying intel, repeat. By the end of the week, I felt pretty comfortable in all three areas.

    Several days before we left, I visited medical, where Erik¡¯s friend Zach taught me very basic first-aid. Mostly, it was simple stuff: stitching up a cut, making a tourniquet, splinting a broken bone. The thought of inflicting injuries that drew blood didn¡¯t actually bother me; that was what I¡¯d been training for. But dealing with the aftermath? That made me queasy, as if eels were swimming in my stomach. I was positive that even if push came to shove, I¡¯d never be able to perform any of these acts without losing my breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

    Donavon and I didn¡¯t speak all week. It was the longest I¡¯d ever gone without seeing him, talking to him, touching him. I felt lost without the comfortable mental connection that I had grown accustomed to. Sure, he left me a couple of messages on my Communicator, but they were brief and none contained an apology. I kept promising myself that I would wait for him to come to me, heart-in-hand, to say he was sorry. But, without fail, every night before bed my resolve weakened, and I opened my mind to search for him. Since my team and I were up so late going over intel, Donavon was always asleep by the time I climbed into bed.

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    At the end of the week, we were scheduled two days off to relax and catch up on our sleep before we set off on our mission. Perhaps Donavon and I could speak and patch things up then, before I left for who knows how long.

    After we had finished the last day of training for the week, both Henri and Erik left immediately for the city. Henri, I presumed, was going to spend the night with Frederick. Erik, I assumed, was going to see if he could find a nice warm bed with a nice looking city girl. I planned on spending the night hanging out with Penny and her friends. I hoped that Laris wasn¡¯t there¡ªI didn¡¯t need any reminders that Donavon still wasn¡¯t talking to me. I also didn¡¯t want any tattletales reporting my every cough and sneeze to him.

    I decided to eat alone in my cabin, since Penny had a training exercise that would run through dinnertime. I was sitting at the small table in the corner, eating my meal and reading a book, when I heard a soft knock on my door. I figured it must be Penny, so I called for her to come in. Instead of opening the door, Penny knocked again. I opened my mind as I walked to the door and abruptly froze. It wasn¡¯t Penny on the other side of the door¡ªit was Donavon. I was suddenly nervous. This was what I¡¯d wanted, him coming to beg me for forgiveness, admitting he¡¯d been jealous and irrational, conceding that he¡¯d overreacted just a tad, right? But what if that wasn¡¯t what he wanted? What if he were here for Round Two of a fight? Would he really wait an entire week before coming to yell at me again?

    ¡°Talia, I know you¡¯re in there. I can feel you,¡± Donavon called through the door, sounding impatient.

    I sighed. There¡¯s no time like the present to get this over with, I thought. I willed the door to open, keeping my feet firmly on the floor. The door swung open, but Donavon didn¡¯t enter.

    ¡°Can I come in?¡± he asked tentatively.

    ¡°I suppose,¡± I replied tersely.

    Donavon shuffled in, his eyes preoccupied with his sneakers, and sat at the table I¡¯d just vacated. I turned around to face him but made no move to sit down. After a long moment, he raised his head and met my eyes. We stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, but I didn¡¯t want to be the one to break the silence.

    ¡°Tal, I¡¯m so sorry,¡± Donavon finally said, his voice wavering slightly.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know how you could accuse me of¡­ well, I don¡¯t even know what exactly you were accusing me of!¡± I yelled. So much for calm and collected.

    ¡°I just freaked out, Tal. Erik has such a reputation and no girl seems immune to him. I know I was wrong. I¡¯m so sorry. You have to believe me.¡± His blue eyes were pleading with me.

    I purposely kept my mind blocked, refusing any mental communication. I didn¡¯t want to feel his emotions. But the look in his eyes broke my resistance, and I dropped my guard. I could feel how much he cared about me, how sorry he was. His emotions were so strong they nearly overwhelmed me. Before I¡¯d made a conscious decision, my feet were already moving me towards him. Our lips met, his arms wrapped around my waist, and I lost my fingers in his hair. He stood up, careful not to break contact with me, and lifted me up by the waist. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he walked us to my bed. He carefully sat me on the edge and gently pushed me flat on my back, leaning completely over me. I disentangled my fingers from his hair and ran my hands up under his shirt, over the smooth skin of his back. He broke away just long enough to yank his shirt over his head. Donavon leaned back down, placing one hand next to my head as he dropped his lips back to mine. His other hand toyed with the edge of my tank top. He slowly ran his thumb across my stomach. My muscles tightened and trembled in response. I looped my legs around his waist again and he laughed as he collapsed on top of me. He pushed my tank top higher until there was no clothing separating our stomachs.

    ¡°Skin to skin,¡± I whispered.

    ¡°Skin to skin,¡± he whispered back.

    I loved the way his skin felt against mine, warm and reassuring.

    He worked my tank top up and over my head. I started shaking harder. Donavon¡¯s lips found mine again, and I relaxed against him. He reluctantly pulled back from me and stared hard into my eyes. He smoothed loose pieces of hair back from my face. He leaned down again, but instead of kissing me, he laid his cheek on mine and fluttered his eyelashes against my cheekbone. My whole body tingled, every synapse firing. I giggled, partially because his eyelashes tickled and partially out of nerves. He replaced his eyelashes with his lips on my cheek. He planted kisses from my jawbone, down my neck, and onto my collarbone.

    ¡°Hey, Talia, are you¡ª¡± Penny stopped mid-sentence. She¡¯d opened the door without knocking. ¡°Oh my gosh! I¡¯m so sorry.¡± Penny¡¯s face flamed to match the color of her hair. Donavon used his chest to cover me while I scrambled to find my tank top.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Penny,¡± I called around Donavon. ¡°Just give me a minute.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll wait outside. I¡¯m sorry,¡± she apologized again.

    I burst out laughing as she closed the door, a little relieved at the interruption.

    ¡°Oops.¡± I smirked.

    ¡°Get dressed before she barges back in here,¡± Donavon said, handing me my tank top. At least he was smiling.

    We spent the evening with Penny and the other pledges. We sat by the lake again, but this time I refrained from drinking. I enjoyed myself and was pleased to see that Donavon did, too. He walked me back to my cabin at curfew and kissed me goodnight. I wasn¡¯t surprised to find my cabin empty when I went inside. I got ready for bed and crawled under the covers, then opened my mind.

    ¡°Wanna come cuddle?¡± I asked Donavon.

    ¡°Are you cabinmate-less?¡±

    ¡°Sure am.¡±

    ¡°Be there in ten.¡±

    I smiled to myself and counted to ten in my head. When I reached ten, I mentally pushed the door open. Right on cue, Donavon hurried through. He wore blue and white plaid pajama bottoms and a white t-shirt stretched tight over his broad chest and biceps. His blond hair was slightly mussed. He must have been in the middle of changing when I called out to him. I held the covers up invitingly and Donavon kicked his shoes off before climbing in next to me. He smelled like soap and the spearmint mouthwash that Gretchen bought. I snuggled close to him, embracing the familiar, comfortable contours of his stretched-out body and closed my eyes.

    ¡°¡¯Night, Donavon.¡±

    ¡°¡¯Night, love.¡±

 Chapter Eleven: The One with a Humiliating Conversation

    The first time I woke up the next morning, Donavon¡¯s arms were still tight around my waist. His warm, even breathing tickled the back of my neck. It was relaxing to be at peace with Donavon again.

    The second time I woke up was a different story.

    ¡°Get out,¡± Erik growled, his turquoise eyes blazing with anger, his hands balled into fists by his sides. Stale alcohol seeped out of his pores as sweat dotted his forehead.

    Donavon jumped out of bed but stood his ground.

    ¡°I said, get out,¡± Erik repeated, his voice low and threatening.

    ¡°What¡¯re you so upset about?¡± Donavon demanded, trying to keep his voice even. ¡°You weren¡¯t here, and she was lonely.¡±

    ¡°She is a pledge. She isn¡¯t allowed to have visitors after curfew, and you know that,¡± Erik shot back through gritted teeth, never taking his eyes from Donavon.

    I wished that they would stop talking about me like I wasn¡¯t there.

    ¡°Oh, come off it, Erik. You had girls back in your cabin all the time when you were a pledge. The stories are legendary.¡± Donavon rolled his eyes and relaxed his stance.

    ¡°Just get out,¡± Erik shouted, losing whatever control he¡¯d been hanging on to.

    ¡°Fine. Whatever.¡± Donavon tried to sound flippant, but I could tell he was unnerved by Erik¡¯s intensity. He turned and kissed me on the top of my head, picked up his shoes¡ªnot bothering to put them on¡ªand sauntered out of the cabin.

    I waited until I heard the soft click of the door closing into place before I rounded on Erik.

    ¡°How dare you!¡± I screamed, not bothering to pretend that I was in control of my emotions.

    ¡°Tals, calm down.¡± He no longer sounded angry, just tired.

    I clamored to stand up on my bed, nearly tripping over the tangled blankets. Even standing on top of my mattress, I was barely eye-to-eye with Erik.

    ¡°No, I will most certainly not calm down. You had no right to barge in here and demand that he leave. This is my room, too. And don¡¯t call me ¡®Tals¡¯ like you are my friend.¡± Anger and embarrassment were warring inside of me, both trying to claw their way out. Erik had some nerve, acting like he had a right to throw Donavon out of my room. It wasn¡¯t like we were doing anything wrong. We were fully clothed, after all. But still, something about Erik being the one to find Donavon and me in bed together was humiliating.

    ¡°Tals, calm down,¡± Erik urged, his voice low and pleading.

    ¡°I am calm,¡± I spat, even though I clearly wasn¡¯t. I clenched my jaw so tightly that it hurt. My face was only inches from Erik, and I was seized by an impulse to shove him away from me. His closeness was suffocating. I raised my hands to do just that, but Erik¡¯s lightning-fast reflexes had his fingers encircling my wrists before I made contact.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I overreacted,¡± he whispered, his face still too close to mine.

    I began to relax slightly, the anger ebbing away.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Henri asked, walking in the room and taking in the sight of me and Erik locked in an odd embrace. I tore my eyes away from Erik¡¯s to look at Henri, and my anger returned full force.

    ¡°Erik thinks what goes on in my room is his business,¡± I fumed, yanking my wrists free of his grasp.

    ¡°It is my business, when it takes place in my room,¡± Erik answered, refusing to take his eyes off me.

    ¡°Well, it is kind of our business, Talia,¡± Henri said evenly.

    ¡°No, it¡¯s not!¡± I shrieked, rounding on him now.

    ¡°Natalia you need to calm down,¡± Erik insisted, reaching for my wrists again.

    I crossed both arms protectively over my chest, effectively thwarting his effort. I felt his nervous energy as his fingers brushed my forearm.

    ¡°It is. It may not seem fair to you, and maybe it¡¯s not, but what happens in your private life could affect us, so that makes it our business.¡± Henri kept his voice calm, taking his cues from Erik. I guess he reasoned that Erik was the resident expert in irrational females.

    ¡°I don¡¯t ask about your personal life,¡± I spat.

    ¡°It¡¯s not the same. I know it¡¯s a double standard, but our private lives don¡¯t affect you the same way yours affects us.¡±

    ¡°That makes no sense,¡± I argued.

    ¡°Do you understand how much time goes into training a new Hunter?¡± Henri asked, seemingly switching topics.

    ¡°A lot,¡± I conceded.

    My distraction gave Erik the opening that he needed, and he gently laid a hand on my arm. I flinched initially but calmed a little when I looked into his eyes. I let him keep his hand there.

    ¡°Exactly. And if something were to happen that made that training a waste, it would be pretty crappy, right?¡± Henri pressed.

    I didn¡¯t understand where he was going with this. ¡°Right,¡± I answered slowly.

    ¡°Well, if you got pregnant, that would kinda make all this time and training useless,¡± Erik said quietly.

    ¡°What? But we weren¡¯t doing anything!¡± I wailed, but all the fight had gone out of me.

    ¡°Yeah, well, regardless¡ªthat¡¯s why what goes on in your personal life is kind of our business,¡± Henri said.

    ¡°So, I can¡¯t have a boyfriend?¡± I countered.

    ¡°No, you can,¡± Henri answered quickly. ¡°We just want you to understand the consequences. Granted, Erik might¡¯ve overreacted a little,¡± he added, giving him a hard look.

    I looked back at Erik, his hand still resting on my forearm. A wave of emotions hit me, and I knew that his reaction had nothing to do with any possible ¡°consequences¡±. I opened my mouth and started to say something to that effect but quickly snapped it shut.

    ¡°Right. I understand,¡± I muttered instead, turning towards the bathroom.

    The whole scene was mortifying. Talking about this with them was too embarrassing, particularly since I hadn¡¯t actually done anything that could lead to me getting pregnant. I never had. I walked into the bathroom, shutting the door noisily behind me. I collapsed on the floor. I could still hear them talking in the other room. I turned on the water and climbed into the hot spray of the shower.

    The humiliation over what had just transpired wasn¡¯t the only reason I needed to collect my thoughts. The intensity of Erik¡¯s emotions was also wreaking havoc on my emotions. I¡¯d, of course, been attracted to Erik since we¡¯d first met. He was hot. I couldn¡¯t imagine a girl who wasn¡¯t attracted to him. Regardless, Donavon was my boyfriend and that was that. Being attracted to somebody was a lot different than having real feelings for them, right? I mean, I didn¡¯t¡ªand couldn¡¯t¡ªhave feelings for Erik. Besides, Erik might like me now, but he had a short attention span. I would be surprised if that attraction lasted.

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    I spent my whole shower trying to compose myself.

    When I finally opened the bathroom door, Henri and Erik were sitting at the table eating. I took a deep breath and launched into my carefully prepared speech.

    ¡°I promise you won¡¯t find Donavon in our cabin during non-visiting hours again¡ªif you two promise never to speak about my sex life again. I promise to make sure my private life doesn¡¯t affect either of you, as long as you promise to pretend like this conversation never happened.¡± I could feel my face burning with embarrassment. I kept my eyes focused on an ant that was crawling across the floorboards.

    ¡°Agreed, and we¡¯re sorry that this conversation had to happen like this.¡± Henri smiled at me and nudged Erik.

    Instead of apologizing, Erik asked hopefully, ¡°Any chance you could promise to get rid of your boyfriend?¡±

    ¡°Sorry, not part of the deal.¡±

    Erik shrugged. ¡°Breakfast?¡±

    I grinned, relieved. ¡°I¡¯m starving.¡±

    Since I had the day off, I decided to play it safe and spend it with Penny. We spent most of the time in her room playing with all her gadgets. She had been right¡ªthere were quite a few she had no idea how to use. Even the two of us together couldn¡¯t seem to figure some of them out. We talked about Donavon and a Crypto operative Penny had a crush on. She asked what it was like to live with two guys, and I complained about how lucky she was to have such a nice, big room to herself. We painted our toenails bright orange. I was beginning to realize that orange/red was Penny¡¯s whole color scheme, not just her hair color.

    Penny insisted on doing my makeup. I normally only wore makeup when I went with Mac¡¯s family to a political event that required me to dress up. Penny, however, wore makeup every day and seemed personally offended that I didn¡¯t share her affinity.

    Somewhere between applying the orchid eye shadow and the cherry Never-Been-Kissed lip gloss, I heard Penny¡¯s life story. She hadn¡¯t started at the McDonough School at five, which was customary. Her biological parents had given her up when she was a baby. Instead of being adopted, she¡¯d been shuttled from foster home to foster home until finally coming to live at Mrs. Gubbard¡¯s Home for Girls when she was twelve. Once there, her extremely elevated intelligence didn¡¯t go unnoticed. When Mrs. Gubbard realized Penny wasn¡¯t ¡°normal¡±, the house matron immediately contacted TOXIC. Just weeks after arriving at the home, Penny was moved once again. This time she moved to a permanent domicile¡ªthe McDonough School.

    Penny¡¯s story made me feel a kinship with her. Maybe I¡¯d instinctively known the night we met that we had something in common, as I was oddly drawn to Penny from our first encounter. Up until now, I¡¯d thought that she¡¯d just come along at a time in my life when I really needed a friend, similar to Donavon. Now, I thought it must¡¯ve been that I knew on some level that we had something in common¡ªwe were both orphans.

    I wanted to take a quick look into her head, wanted to see if she felt a connection, too, but decided against the intrusion. I wouldn¡¯t want somebody invading my most painful and private memories.

    Somehow, I found myself recounting my own tragic past. I gave Penny the abridged version of events that led to my enrollment at the School. I hadn¡¯t shared my story with anybody, not even Donavon. Donavon knew, of course, but Mac had been the one to tell him. Or, more likely, he had overhead Mac talking to Gretchen. Donavon did have a penchant for eavesdropping.

    That evening, I had dinner with Donavon and then we took a walk around the grounds. I wanted to spend as much time with him as I could before I left, but I still made sure to be in long before curfew. I didn¡¯t want to risk upsetting Henri after our conversation that morning, and I know I needed my rest. Although my upcoming mission was supposed to be easy, I was starting to get nervous; it was my first assignment.

    Erik was the only one there when I walked into my cabin two hours before midnight. He informed me that Henri always spent the night with Frederick before he left on an assignment and that he would be back early the next morning. I wished for the umpteenth time that I could spend the night with Donavon but after this morning¡¯s showdown, I wasn¡¯t about to take the chance.

    The anxiety of my first hunt made me restless and prevented me from falling asleep. I wanted to seek out Donavon¡¯s mind but decided against it. Talking to him would just make me more desperate to be physically close to him. I lay in my bed, tossing and turning, well into the night.

    Sometime shortly before sunrise, Erik turned on the light next to his bed.

    ¡°You should be sleeping. We have a couple of big days ahead of us,¡± he lectured.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, did I wake you up?¡± I apologized, but secretly a little glad that he was awake, too.

    ¡°No, not exactly. It¡¯s more like you haven¡¯t let me sleep.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I repeated, actually feeling guilty now.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay. I was just as anxious before my first mission,¡± he mumbled.

    ¡°Did you keep Henri up all night?¡± I inquired hopefully.

    ¡°Well, no,¡± he admitted. ¡°But I also don¡¯t have the ability to project my thoughts and feelings onto the people around me. Well, I don¡¯t usually,¡± he amended. Henri will be grateful that he wasn¡¯t here. If he had to deal with both of our projected feelings, he would have been pretty irritated.

    ¡°How do I force myself to sleep?¡± I moaned.

    ¡°You probably won¡¯t be able to,¡± he conceded.

    ¡°So what do I do?¡±

    ¡°Get up and put on your workout clothes,¡± Erik suggested.

    ¡°What? How is that going to help me sleep?¡±

    ¡°You should go for a run or something. It¡¯ll tire you out, and you really need to get some sleep before we leave tonight.¡±

    I sighed and pushed the covers off me. I trudged into the bathroom to change. Running was low on the list of things I wanted to do right then, but I was willing to try anything that could help me sleep. When I emerged, I was surprised to see Erik sitting on the edge of his bed dressed in matching Agency-issue workout clothes, tying the white laces on his mesh tennis shoes.

    ¡°Ready?¡± he asked, without turning around.

    ¡°You¡¯re coming?¡± I didn¡¯t bother to mask my surprise.

    ¡°I¡¯m up,¡± he answered simply.

    We set off at a quick pace on a trail through the woods. We maintained the pace, without speaking, for over an hour.

    As we ran, I focused my energy on my olfactory sense. I breathed in the intoxicatingly sweet fragrance of the small, white flowers that grew at the base of the trees, the fresh smell of dew on the leaves, and even the earthy musk of the dirt. I could make out the heady scent of Erik¡¯s sweat mixed with his deodorant. It was so distinctly male. I inhaled deeper, taking in as much of his aroma as I could. Suddenly, I realized what I was doing and quickly redirected my energy.

    I switched my concentration to my sense of touch. The morning was cool and damp, and I could feel the tiny droplets of cold water that hung in the air and on every surface of my exposed skin. I felt the trickle of cold sweat as it traced a path from the base of my skull to the small of my back. I felt the tiniest pebbles as my feet pounded out a steady rhythm along the path.

    I narrowed my eyes and refocused my energy to my sight, blocking the rest of my senses. I could see the beads of condensation on the bright leaves. I could see the minute details in the bark of the passing trees. When I turned my head to look at Erik, I could see his long, thick eyelashes framing his beautiful eyes. I lost my footing and stumbled slightly. Erik looked down at me as I quickly strained to right myself.

    ¡°Okay?¡± he asked, raising his eyebrows questioningly.

    I caught a glint in his eyes and knew that he had caught me looking at him.

    ¡°Yup,¡± I grunted, embarrassed.

    Closing my eyes, I tried to regroup. I directed my energy to my hearing. The pounding of my feet against the dirt was almost deafening. I could hear the thudding of my heart against my chest, just a microsecond faster than Erik¡¯s. A small bumblebee flew next to my ear and the flutter of its wings filled my head. I relaxed as my stride fell into a cadence with the burbling of a stream somewhere in the distance.

    I continued to cycle through my senses, expanding each one in turn, throughout the entire run. Over the years, this routine had become second nature. The familiarity comforted me and the anxiety that had been dampening my thoughts all week gave way to confidence. I could do this. I was ready for this mission.

    Mac had begun teaching me to sharpen my senses not long after I came to live with his family. I would run blindfolded to improve my hearing. He would have me wear earplugs for entire days to improve my eyesight. Some days, Mac would deprive me of two of my senses at once, pushing the other senses to their limits. It was a gradual process, but eventually I was able to draw on my mental energy and focus it; mastery of each sense followed.

    Erik was right¡ªwhen we got back, I was exhausted. I showered quickly and then got back in my bed, promptly falling asleep.

    Too soon, I woke to Henri gently shaking my shoulder.

    ¡°Tal, it¡¯s time to get up,¡± he said softly.

    ¡°Hmmm,¡± I replied drowsily.

    ¡°You need to wake up and pack. We¡¯re leaving in two hours.¡±

    The bed rose as his weight lifted away. This was it¡ªI was finally going on my first mission. My confidence from earlier remained. I was ready.

    I rolled over and stretched. I pulled myself out of bed and began packing a small bag with only essential toiletries and several days¡¯ worth of the most non-descript clothing that I owned. Bags containing the weapons, tech devices, and specialized clothing for our mission would be waiting for us in the hover-plane.

    I had finished my packing and was pulling on knee-high black boots over a thick black adapti-suit¡ªmade of an impenetrable material that protected my skin from both the elements and glancing blows¡ªwhen I heard a knock at the door. I knew that it was Donavon. I dove for the door, but Erik got there first.

    He greeted Donavon icily as he opened the door. ¡°I should¡¯ve guessed it would be you.¡±

    ¡°Just wanted to say goodbye to Tal.¡± Donavon held up his hands, indicating that he didn¡¯t want trouble.

    I walked over, grabbed Donavon¡¯s arm, and ushered him out the door. I slammed it shut behind us.

    ¡°Sorry about that,¡± I said to him.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to talk about him.¡± Donavon leaned down and kissed me softly. ¡°Seriously though, Natalia, be careful.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Donavon. I¡¯ll be fine,¡± I promised.

    ¡°I know, but I can¡¯t help but worry about you.¡± His voice was husky.

    ¡°Wrap it up, Tals. We gotta go,¡± Erik called, walking out of the cabin with his bag over one shoulder and mine over the other.

    I stood on my tiptoes and kissed Donavon goodbye.

    ¡°I love you, Tal.¡±

    ¡°I know, Donavon.¡± I gave his calloused hand one last squeeze before turning to follow Erik and Henri, only allowing myself to look back once.

 Chapter Twelve: The One with Limited Beds

    When we arrived at the hangar, it was a bustle of activity. Three black backpacks sat at the base of the steps leading up to the underbelly of a mid-sized camouflage hover-plane. One of the bags was distinctly larger than the other two. Henri grabbed that one and climbed into the plane. Erik and I followed suit. I took a seat in one of the oversized chairs and waited while Henri spoke to the pilot. My apprehension from earlier hummed behind my confident exterior.

    ¡°Move all the stuff you brought from the cabin into the black backpack and then strap yourself in,¡± Henri instructed, his voice serious.

    I did as I was told. The atmosphere was so charged that I could nearly feel the tiny sparks of electricity. No one spoke again until we were in the air.

    ¡°The plane will drop us off in a rural area approximately fifty miles outside of Mexico City. There is a road-car there that we will use to drive to a safe house approximately twenty miles outside the city. The laboratory we are looking for is on the outskirts of town,¡± Henri explained.

    We had gone over all of this numerous times, but I nodded my head and listened. I knew Henri was anxious and reciting the plan helped calm his nerves. I tried to prevent his feelings from intensifying my increasing unease. I had to stay focused. I had to sustain my composure.

    The flight took several hours, most of which I slept. I was still tired from my sleepless night¡ªthe respite after my run hadn¡¯t been sufficient. We finally touched down in a small clearing in the middle of nowhere. The humidity engulfed me as soon as the plane door opened. Thankfully, the hunting suits had temperature regulators; it only took seconds for the interior of my suit to adjust, returning my body to a comfortable level. My hair was another matter. My dark curls absorbed the moisture in the air immediately and expanded exponentially. I fished a bandana out of my bag and used it to contain my hair. I tightened the straps on my backpack until they fit snugly against my body and climbed down the shiny metal steps. As soon as all three of us deplaned, the steps retracted and the plane rose silently, flying off into the inky-black night sky.

    This was it¡ªwe were actually on the mission now. I was a bundle of nervous anticipation. Breathe, focus, I reminded myself. You can do this. You can do this, I repeated over and over again in my head.

    I followed Henri and Erik out of the clearing and into the surrounding woods. The trees were thick, and I had no idea how Henri knew where we were going. When I opened my mind to him, I could feel his senses on overdrive.

    We only walked for a couple of minutes before we reached the most dilapidated barn that I¡¯d ever seen. The heavy wooden doors protested loudly when Henri pulled them open. I walked several paces behind Henri and Erik, afraid the barn would collapse once we entered. My senses were not quite as good as the boys¡ªtheirs came naturally with their talents¡ªso it took my eyes several additional seconds to adjust to the pitch-black barn interior. Once my eyes could distinguish shapes, I realized that the barn wasn¡¯t nearly as unstable as it looked. In fact, there were large support beams holding the roof and sides up in an odd configuration, which gave off the impression that the building was falling in on itself. I stared up in wonderment.

    In the middle of the barn were several road vehicles. Henri selected a small rusted-looking one with a layer of grime covering the windows and got in the driver¡¯s seat. I opened the back door and climbed in, leaving the passenger seat for Erik.

    The interior and the exterior were a study in contrast. The outside looked like that of a vehicle that had been sitting in an abandoned barn for years, while the inside looked as pristine as the Crypto Bank at Headquarters. The seats were soft, black leather and the dash and the doors were covered in buttons that lit up in a rainbow of colors when Henri powered up the car. The backs of the headrests and center console were equipped with small touchscreen computers. I stared wide-eyed at all the gadgets.

    Henri drove out of the barn and turned down a path situated between two large trees.

    ¡°Talia, eat something from your pack,¡± he ordered after we¡¯d been driving for a couple of minutes. His tone was serious and he was in charge, so I obliged without comment, even though my stomach was so knotted that I doubted any food would fit.

    ¡°I want to stop by the safe house and make sure everything is copacetic, and then we¡¯ll go locate the laboratory while it¡¯s still dark. It¡¯s probably about ten miles from the house to the location, and we are going on foot, so make sure you have the energy,¡± Henri continued.

    I found several bags of dried fruit in my pack and started munching on them noisily. I didn¡¯t know how long it actually took us to arrive at the safe house, but it felt like forever. Every passing minute compounded my mounting anxiety. When we finally pulled up out front, I was saddened to see that it looked much like the barn on the outside¡ªextremely run-down. I didn¡¯t know what I¡¯d expected. I knew we wouldn¡¯t be staying at a four-star hotel, but I¡¯d hoped the rumors of the poor living conditions on hunts were exaggerated. Apparently, they weren¡¯t.

    ¡°Only mental communication from now on, understood?¡± Henri¡¯s mental voice filled my head.

    Both Erik and I nodded.

    ¡°Erik, go around back. I will go in the front. Talia, stand guard outside. Keep your mind as open as you can.¡±

    I nodded again, swallowing over the lump of sugary fruit lodged in my throat.

    ¡°Get your weapons ready and be on full-alert,¡± Henri continued.

    I immediately rummaged in my bag and withdrew a belt with eight knives fastened to it. I threaded it through the belt loops at the waist of my suit. Next, I strapped two larger daggers to the outsides of each of my legs, blades running the length of my thighs. I could feel my heart beating in my throat. I was suddenly terrified. It wasn¡¯t until I actually strapped the weapons around my waist that reality hit me. I was actually in the field. This was not practice. The weapons were real. I could really die. I started to panic.

    Erik reached back and put his gloved hand over my mine. ¡°Just stay calm, you¡¯re going to do great. Remember your training and focus.¡±

    I nodded and gave him the closest thing to a smile that I could muster. Inhale. Exhale. Repeat.

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    I waited for Henri and Erik to get out of the car before opening my own door.

    ¡°Count of three,¡± Henri said once we were all standing outside of the vehicle. ¡°One, two, three.¡±

    Erik silently jogged around to the back of the house. Henri moved deftly towards the front door. I positioned myself outside of the entrance that Henri had just disappeared through. I closed my eyes and opened my mind wider. I had a strong connection with both Henri and Erik. I couldn¡¯t feel a flutter of mental activity anywhere in the immediate vicinity, which calmed me slightly.

    Several minutes passed before Henri called, ¡°All clear.¡±

    ¡°Ditto,¡± Erik responded.

    ¡°All quiet out here.¡± I tried to make my mental voice calm but it came out frantic.

    I could feel both Henri and Erik moving through the house. They emerged a minute later.

    ¡°Let¡¯s check out the target location. I¡¯ll take the lead. Erik, take the rear. Tal, stay between us.¡±

    Henri took off at a steady jog through the woods. I focused on his back. Keeping my mind as open as I possibly could, I cast the net wider and wider as we ran. I couldn¡¯t feel anything human in the woods, but I didn¡¯t honestly expect to since it was the middle of the night.

    Sweat drenched my hair, soaking my bandana. The rest of my body was covered by the suit and remained nice and cool. Henri¡¯s strides were much longer than mine, but I was surprised to find that it wasn¡¯t that hard to keep up with him. It took us over an hour to reach the target location. I felt the distinct buzz of another human brain when we were about three miles out.

    I was unable to read minds without an established relationship. It only took a few exchanges with a person to establish a relationship and probe their thoughts, but with a complete stranger, I only heard a murmur of brain activity. However, that was enough to let me know when there was someone in the vicinity.

    ¡°I can feel someone,¡± I announced.

    ¡°How far?¡± Henri inquired.

    ¡°Maybe three miles? I¡¯m not really sure. The buzz is faint.¡±

    ¡°I can feel it, too but just barely,¡± Erik chimed in.

    ¡°Talia, take the lead,¡± Henri ordered.

    Great. Following Henri was comfortable and mindless. Leading the way added a level of responsibility that I wasn¡¯t ready to take on. But Henri was in charge, so I silently jogged ahead of him and stretched my mental net. I focused on the buzzing and followed it to the edge of the woods.

    I went to step out into the open, but Henri placed his hand on my shoulder to hold me back. The three of us crouched down in the leaves, and I pulled the focus from my mind and redirected my energy to my eyesight. It took longer than I would¡¯ve liked but finally the buzzing dulled, and I could see a house that I recognized from the intel. I could also see the source of the buzzing¡ªhe was sitting in the dark by the front door. He looked as though he was sleeping, but I knew better. Sleeping minds didn¡¯t buzz.

    ¡°How many people total do you feel awake, Tal?¡± Henri asked.

    ¡°Just the one.¡±

    ¡°Can you tell how many are sleeping?¡±

    ¡°No, I¡¯m sorry,¡± I responded regretfully, feeling as though I¡¯d let him down.

    Henri unhooked his backpack and searched inside. He pulled out his Communicator and a heat scanner. He attached the Communicator to his wrist and the scanner to his Communicator. It gave off a faint glow that wasn¡¯t visible from more than a couple of feet away.

    ¡°There are ten inside,¡± he said.

    ¡°Ten?¡± Erik sounded surprised. ¡°I thought there weren¡¯t supposed to be more than a handful of them at any given time?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what our intel said but who knows. We aren¡¯t going in tonight, anyway. Hopefully, there won¡¯t be as many tomorrow or the day after,¡± Henri answered him.

    Henri spent the next few minutes collecting heat images of the house and the surrounding areas. Then he repacked the devices in his bag.

    ¡°Erik, we should morph. Give your bag to Tal,¡± Henri said.

    Erik took off his boots and all of his weapons, packed them in his bag, and then handed everything to me. I draped his long rifle across my chest and secured his backpack to my front. Henri also removed his boots and weapons and handed me his backpack.

    ¡°Tal, after we morph, strap the extra packs to my back, and then get on Erik. He¡¯ll carry you back.¡±

    I desperately wanted to argue with him, to tell him that I could make the run back on my own two feet. But the first thing that Henri had taught me was not to argue with the person in charge¡ªit could get everyone killed. Unfortunately, our minds were so connected that both boys heard my mental struggle just as clearly as if I¡¯d been speaking out loud.

    ¡°Okay, Henri,¡± I finally agreed, ashamed that they¡¯d heard me warring between my stubbornness and his authority.

    Both boys transformed into large wolf-like dogs. The suit¡¯s material stretched to conform to their new body shapes. I¡¯d seen it plenty of times over the past several weeks but it never ceased to amaze me. I quickly fastened the packs to Henri, before climbing onto Erik¡¯s back and winding my hands into the fur around his neck. The boys took off into the woods at a breakneck speed. I clung to Erik as we weaved in-between trees, thankful that Henri had chosen a wolf form when they morphed.

    Like Donavon, Henri was a Polymorph and could, therefore, transform into any animal of his choosing. Like most Polymorphs, Henri favored one animal in particular¡ªin his case, an extremely large bird, since it made the most of his tremendous wingspan and was the fastest way for him to travel. The trouble with a bird-morph was that I had yet to master riding it. In practice, we had been working on me riding on one of them while they were in bird form, but I tended to fall off more often than not. I never would¡¯ve been able to stay on while Erik flew through the dense trees of this forest.

    Even in wolf-form, it took considerably less time to get back to the safe house. I jumped off of Erik¡¯s back as soon as we arrived. I unfastened the packs from Henri and then watched as the human forms of both boys rematerialized in front of me.

    Henri silently led the way into the house. Immediately, I noticed that, like the barn, the house was designed to look more decrepit from the outside. It was nowhere near luxurious on the inside but it was clean and all of the walls and staircases appeared intact. I was relieved. As soon as we closed the door, I pictured all of the doors and windows from the floor plans and mentally locked them. The sound of all the locks clicking simultaneously into place was faint but both boys heard the noise. I felt safe for the first time that night.

    ¡°We¡¯re going to sleep in shifts,¡± Henri announced, speaking out loud for the first time in hours.

    I hadn¡¯t realized what a toll maintaining the mental connection was taking on me until it was broken. I sagged with relief at the reprieve.

    ¡°I¡¯ll take the first watch. The bedroom is upstairs. Both of you need to get some sleep. Erik, I¡¯ll wake you up in a little while,¡± Henri continued.

    Exhaustion was beginning to set in as I followed Erik up the stairs. There were three rooms on the upper floor. One was a bedroom and one was a bathroom, while the third room looked like a command center. There were touchscreens lining the walls and panels decorated with buttons and switches. I walked directly to the bathroom and took off my suit, replacing it with my pajamas. My skin was immediately thankful to be free of the constricting material and allowed to breathe. I quickly brushed my teeth to erase the fuzzy film. Sleep couldn¡¯t come fast enough.

    Erik was standing awkwardly in the bedroom in his pajamas when I walked in.

    ¡°There¡¯s only one bed. If you want me to sleep on the floor, I will,¡± he offered.

    ¡°The floor is wood, not exactly comfortable,¡± I observed. ¡°Haven¡¯t you ever been on a hunting team with a girl?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, Henri and I had a girl as a Floater before he requested that you be permanently assigned to us,¡± Erik confirmed.

    ¡°Did you sleep in the same bed with that girl?¡± I asked.

    ¡°It never came up.¡±

    ¡°Just don¡¯t grope me in my sleep and I think we¡¯ll be okay,¡± I replied dryly.

    ¡°I don¡¯t plan on it, but I make no promises.¡± Erik¡¯s eyes twinkled mischievously in the darkness.

    I rolled my eyes and climbed into bed. Erik headed towards the bathroom. I was vaguely aware of him climbing into bed a couple of minutes later, but I didn¡¯t have the energy to speak.

 Chapter Thirteen: The One Where Things Actually Get Real

    There were no windows in the bedroom, so I had no concept of time when I woke up. I was lying on my side facing the wall, and I could feel a hand on my hip. The sheer size of the hand indicated to me that it belonged to Henri. I gently moved him and slid down to the end of the bed. I went in search of Erik, but I didn¡¯t have to go far. I found him in the command center watching surveillance of the perimeter surrounding the safe house. He was sitting in one chair with his feet propped up on a second. He was eating something from a bag that looked disturbingly like dehydrated meat.

    ¡°Hey. What time is it? Why didn¡¯t you wake me?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not that late. I was going to let you sleep for another couple hours.¡± He looked over his shoulder at me. The light pouring in the window caught his eyes, causing the turquoise color to look even more unnatural, and gorgeous, than normal.

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to coddle me,¡± I retorted, snappier than I meant. My awareness of him when we were in close proximity irritated me, and I irrationally blamed him, as if he could help being ridiculously good-looking.

    ¡°I¡¯m not coddling you. You¡¯re expending a lot more energy than either Henri or me, and it¡¯s your mental powers that we are counting on to keep us connected when we go inside that house. You have to be at your strongest.¡± His reasonable response irked me further.

    ¡°I¡¯m not really tired anymore. I¡¯m really hungry, though,¡± I said, changing the subject.

    ¡°There¡¯s some stuff in the kitchen cabinets. None of it¡¯s expired or anything but a lot of it is less than appetizing. It¡¯s smart to conserve the stuff in your pack, in case we have to hide in the woods somewhere.¡±

    I made my way downstairs and rummaged through the kitchen cabinets. Erik was right¡ªnothing in there looked edible. I finally settled on mixed nuts and canned peaches. Taking my meal back upstairs, I sat with Erik and let him explain how all the buttons and switches on the panel worked.

    ¡°Did you guys get enough sleep?¡± Henri asked when he finally wandered in a couple of hours later. Erik and I both nodded. ¡°Good. I want to scout out the city, so go get dressed¡ªno suits, just regular clothes.¡±

    I nodded and headed to the bathroom to do as I was told. I chose tight-fitting jeans and strapped a knife to each of my calves, covering them with knee-high black boots. I secured the knife belt around my waist and covered it with a loose-fitting white cotton shirt. I strapped on my backpack and wrapped myself in a jacket to hide the pack from view. When I was ready, I walked downstairs to find Henri and Erik both dressed in dark jeans and black shirts with their jackets covering their packs, as well.

    We piled into the road-car and followed a decidedly roundabout set of dirt roads that eventually led us to the outskirts of Mexico City. There were several blocks of white stone buildings, none more than four or five stories tall. All of the structures were completely open-air¡ªthere were no doors or windows. I wondered how they kept the rain out. One look at the cloudless sky had me doubting there was much precipitation here. The streets running through the city were narrow, barely wide enough for one vehicle. The walkways were the same white stone as the buildings and the streets were a mix of gray, black and white stones. I assumed the white buildings and walkways were to keep the city as cool as possible in light of the extreme temperatures.

    I¡¯d noticed the heat and humidity the day before but neither had affected me¡ªsave my hair¡ªbecause of my suit. Today, wearing normal clothing, the heat was nearly unbearable. I found myself wishing that I had packed shorts. Both Elite Headquarters and the School were in moderate climates, so the temperatures never came close to the heat in Mexico City. My hometown of Capri was on the water, so despite being closer to the equator, there was always a nice breeze that made the temperature bearable.

    Henri parked the car just outside of the city, and we walked the short distance on foot. I could feel the sweat dampening my shirt. My knife belt began to chafe against the slick skin of my hips and stomach. I stole glances at both boys and found them oddly unaffected by the soaring temperatures.

    Henri had told me to stay close to him, just in case there was trouble, but nobody gave us a second look as we wandered through the crowded streets.

    I was unsure what Henri expected to find out by spending the day roaming the outskirts of town, so I concentrated on my surroundings. It was apparent that this neighborhood was poor. Most of the shops sold fabrics or meats and cheeses. I saw one store that sold beautiful metal plates, bowls, and jewelry with each piece individually crafted¡ªno mass manufacturing here. Most of the road vehicles I observed looked much like ours on the outside, but I doubted that any of them contained the interior comforts our vehicle offered. I only glimpsed a few hover vehicles all day, and those I did see didn¡¯t glide silently through the air. They created a great deal of racket, making them stand out.

    After scouring every inch of the small neighborhood for something only known to Henri, we walked about half a mile to the house we¡¯d scouted the night before. We kept our distance for fear of being seen.

    ¡°Erik, I want you to go check out the surveillance system. Talia and I will stay down here and keep watch,¡± Henri instructed.

    Erik nodded and began to undress. I turned around, my cheeks flushing, even though he didn¡¯t appear to be modest. I felt Erik morphing behind me, and I turned around just as he completed his change into a small black bird. I tried to follow the bird¡¯s movements through the treetops, but he moved so quickly that it was impossible to keep up. I opened my mind and tried to get a feel for how many people were in the house¡ªapproximately a handful but I couldn¡¯t determine an exact number. Henri busied himself with snapping images of the surrounding areas. In the daylight, the house looked almost inviting. I stored the mental image away for later, hoping that it would comfort me that night.

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    Erik was only gone for a few minutes. After landing, he quickly morphed back into his human form and got dressed.

    ¡°I found all of the cameras that our intel suspected. I looked around for additional ones, but didn¡¯t find anything,¡± Erik reported.

    ¡°Let¡¯s head back and go over the heat images from last night and the photos that I just took. We can finalize the plan and hopefully take action tonight. That way, we can be out of here by tomorrow,¡± Henri replied, satisfied. With that, we returned to the vehicle, and Henri drove us a different roundabout way back to the safe house.

    Henri insisted that I get more rest before the evening. I hated to admit how exhausted I was from spending the day in the hot sun. After a cold shower, I climbed back into the bed and fell instantly to sleep.

    Henri shook me awake long before I was ready.

    ¡°What time is it?¡± I groaned.

    ¡°Time to get dressed. I want to do some more recon tonight.¡± He stood to leave. ¡°You have ten minutes,¡± he called over his shoulder as he exited.

    Still half asleep, I rolled out of bed and dressed on autopilot. Using the remaining eight of my ten minutes, I splashed cold water on my face. By the time I joined Erik and Henri, I was awake, alert, and amped for another stakeout.

    We hid in the woods, using the trees as cover, for most of the night. Henri took images of all the men coming and going. We observed the guards posted outside to determine when the least number of people would be awake and alert. We left with just enough time to make it to the safe house before dawn.

    When we got back, Henri confirmed that tomorrow night would be the night. I was still wired from the night¡¯s activities, so I offered to take the first watch. I diligently monitored the surveillance feeds and munched on dried fruit and hard chunks of cheese while Henri and Erik slept. I promised myself that the first thing I¡¯d do when we returned to Headquarters was eat a hot meal, consisting of only fresh foods.

    Around midday, Henri woke up, and I gratefully climbed into bed with Erik. He didn¡¯t move when I flopped down next to him. The night before, I¡¯d been so spent that being so close to Erik¡ªsharing a bed with him¡ªhadn¡¯t fazed me. I was tired today, but my body hadn¡¯t been subjected to the same mental rigors and therefore, today¡¯s exhaustion didn¡¯t prevent my awareness of Erik¡¯s warm presence. I wedged myself close to the wall, as far from Erik as I could manage. Still, I could feel his body just inches from mine, making it hard to sleep. I needed something else to focus on, anything else.

    The intel. I would concentrate on the intel. If I mentally reviewed all of the tedious details from the reports, maybe I could bore myself to sleep. It must¡¯ve worked because I was soon dreaming about eating dehydrated chicken strips on a pebbled beach while I watched Erik play in the frothy waves. Oops¡­ I tried replacing him with Donavon.

    ***

    When I woke up several hours later, I was anxious and jittery. Just thinking about what the night entailed made me twitch. I was on a rollercoaster ride of emotion. Part of me couldn¡¯t wait a minute longer to put my skills into action but the saner part of me was near hysteria. A myriad of ¡°what-ifs¡± materialized in my head like a grocery list. Imminent death was shelved right next to horrendous bodily harm.

    I took a cold shower, hoping to drown my fears. My hands shook as I pulled on my adapti-suit. My fingers fumbled while I wound my hair into a tight bun at the base of my neck and covered my head with a black bandana. I knew that I should eat something, but the butterflies in my stomach made me reconsider. When I finally joined Henri and Erik in the control room, I was vibrating like a too-tight guitar string fraught with tension.

    ¡°Ready?¡± Henri asked.

    I nodded, unable to unclench my teeth.

    My mind was so consumed with the upcoming task that the jog to the house seemed to take less time than it had the previous two nights. We weren¡¯t running particularly fast, but my heart was pounding loudly in my chest. I assumed that Henri and Erik could hear it with their heightened senses, but neither said anything.

    Erik wore an uncharacteristically serious look on his face. Henri¡¯s expression was grim. I could feel Henri¡¯s confidence in my abilities, but I also felt his uneasiness about how I¡¯d react if there were trouble. It didn¡¯t help with my nerves. I wanted¡ªneeded¡ªto prove my worth. And not just to Henri, but to everybody who¡¯d said that I didn¡¯t belong in the Hunters and to myself.

    Once we reached the spot in the woods just outside of the area the cameras surveyed, we settled in to wait. I lay down in the leaves on my stomach and tried to even out my breathing. The three of us sat motionless, not speaking, for hours. I filtered their thoughts from my own while still holding the connection, both boys¡¯ apprehension weighing heavily on my already overburdened mind.

    ¡°It¡¯s time,¡± Henri announced finally. ¡°Erik, you¡¯re on.¡±

    ¡°See you guys shortly.¡±

    I caught a hint of a smile and felt Erik¡¯s trepidation turn to giddy anticipation as he rose to his feet. I clung to that emotion, letting it overtake my fear.

    Erik silently morphed into the same small black bird as last night. He took off towards the treetops, and while I couldn¡¯t see or hear him, I knew that he was taking out the security cameras. Several minutes later, he flitted down. Instead of morphing back into a human, he morphed into the large wolf-like dog. He scurried off in the direction of the house to create a distraction that would, hopefully, cause the guard to leave his post. Then, Erik would take him out. The next guard wasn¡¯t scheduled to come on duty until morning, so no one was likely to find the incapacitated guard until that time.

    There was only one door to the house, so once the guard was gone, Henri and I would be clear to slip inside. Henri had determined that the laboratory was located on the second floor of the house. Our job was to get inside and take images of all the research. If all went well, Henri and I would be able to go up the stairs, collect the data, and leave the house undetected. From there, the plan was to return to the safe house briefly to collect our belongings and then be out of the region before sunrise.

    I heard Erik start barking in the woods, far to the right of where Henri and I stood. The guard hesitated at first. Erik moved into the clearing and barked louder. The guard finally went to chase him off.

    ¡°Now, Talia,¡± Henri said. His anxiety was gone, a calm reassurance taking its place.

    ¡°Right behind you,¡± I responded, thankful that my voice mirrored his calm tone. A coil of thrill unwound in my stomach, invigorating my limbs. I was ready. I could do this. I would do this.

    I followed right on Henri¡¯s heels. I was vaguely aware that Erik had ceased barking as we entered the house. There were no lights on inside, but my sensory training, combined with the fact I¡¯d memorized the layout of the house, made finding the staircase easy.

    Sweat stung my eyes. I wiped it with the back of my gloved hand. Henri and I crept up the stairs and to the end of the hallway.

    ¡°Stand guard,¡± Henri instructed, once we¡¯d reached the laboratory.

    I stationed myself outside the door while Henri entered the lab to photograph the research. My breathing was even as I slowly scanned the corridor for signs of mental activity.

    Henri had been in the room for several minutes when I heard a scuffle downstairs.

    ¡°Trouble downstairs,¡± Erik grunted, cutting into my thoughts. My mouth went dry. A clammy sheen covered my face. This was not part of the plan.

 Chapter Fourteen: The One Where it all Goes Sideways

    Henri came rushing out of the room. I met his brown eyes and saw the same alarm that I felt. We ran back down the hallway and flew down the stairs, my feet barely making contact with the carpet. Somebody had turned on the lights, and I could see Erik sparring with two men. I reacted without thinking, adrenaline starting to pump through my veins. I grabbed two knives from my belt, throwing one at each of the men. Both knives struck their targets. Satisfaction surged through me as one landed in the shorter man¡¯s thigh and the other cut the upper arm of the taller one. When I mentally summoned the knives back to me, I was already in motion. The first man had fallen when the knife struck him, and I went for him. Henri went for the taller one. I deftly hit my opponent in the temple. He crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

    All of the noise had woken the rest of the men in the house, and they were now flooding into the foyer. Panic gripped me. We were outnumbered. We were going to be killed or, worse, captured. I needed to do something. I needed to restore our advantage. I needed to focus. I needed to breathe. I greedily gulped the stale air, filling my lungs. My eyes darted around the space for a sign of what to do. The lights, I thought. A thread of hope pulled through the quilt of dread.

    I concentrated on the overhead lights until they exploded, blanketing the room in darkness. It was a risky move, but I figured that our heightened senses would give us an advantage in the dark. My eyes adjusted in seconds. The men from the house floundered in the dark. Relief washed over me. We weren¡¯t out of the woods yet, but we¡¯d definitely gained ground.

    I closed my eyes and focused my energy to my hearing. I moved through the room, depending solely on my ears and my mental abilities. I quickly sunk my blade into the mid-section of the first man I encountered. Flecks of sticky, dark liquid dotted my glove. I suppressed the urge to retch. Keep it together, I chastised myself. He stumbled to his feet. I brought a fist and the blunt end of my knife, slick with his blood, down on his head. The cracking sound reverberated through the room and blood spurted from his new wound. His knees buckled. I swallowed my disgust and hit him again. He stayed down.

    Before I had time to congratulate myself on my victory, another figure collided with me, knocking me to the floor. I let out a small grunt of surprise as I landed on my back, and instinctively crossed my arms protectively over my face. The man¡¯s fists rained down on me, but luckily he couldn¡¯t see well enough to hit anything vital. He got in one good punch to the side of my head. My ears rang. I coughed and sputtered, blood filling my mouth. The metallic taste reminded me that I needed to take the offensive. I couldn¡¯t play his punching bag.

    The man was straddling me, his bulk pinning me to the floor. His weight was compressing my lungs, and I couldn¡¯t catch my breath. The room started spinning around us. Getting him off of me was the only thing that mattered. I used the only weapon I had, my head. I strained my neck muscles and flung my forehead towards his, head-butting him. My vision blurred slightly, but I summoned my mental energy to throw him off of me, chiding myself for having not thought of it sooner. He flew backwards, landing several feet away in a crumpled heap. I scrambled to my feet, my chest aching from the sudden influx of air. Erik, Henri, I thought weakly. They were both still fighting with their own combatants. I didn¡¯t waste time assessing my injuries. I threw myself back into the fray.

    Movement on the stairs caught my attention, and I moved toward the noise. I heard three loud pops. I froze mid-step, a fresh wave of panic overcoming me. Someone had a gun. Time seemed to stand still. The bullets headed straight to where Erik was standing over a man kneeling before him.

    ¡°NO!¡± I shrieked mentally, unable to get the word past my lips.

    All of the mental energy I was expending caused me to shake with fatigue, and I didn¡¯t know how much I had left in me. But I couldn¡¯t let those bullets hit Erik. Gathering my waning strength, I poured every ounce into my telekinetic abilities. The projectiles froze mid-flight. I almost cried with relief. The gun fired again. By some miracle, I managed to stop the second round of bullets shortly after they left the muzzle.

    Rage dwarfed the terror inside of me. Only one thought traversed the sea of red swirling inside of my head: Stop the gun from firing again.

    Too furious to care about my own well-being, I rushed towards the man holding the gun. He pulled the trigger for a third time, only to find the clip empty. He didn¡¯t bother reloading, simply chucking the weapon at my head instead. I deflected it with my mind and literally dove at him. I knocked him backwards onto the staircase. His spine made a cracking noise when it connected with the steps. This time, the sound didn¡¯t bring about feelings of revulsion. I wanted to make him hurt. I needed to make him sorry that he¡¯d pulled that trigger.

    I landed on top of my opponent, fists flying angrily at his face. His arms were down by his sides, and he didn¡¯t attempt to raise them to fend off my blows. Too late, I realized why he¡¯d chosen not to defend himself.

    White-hot pain exploded just beneath my ribcage, lancing through my midsection and up my left side. I let loose a bloodcurdling scream, equal parts shock and rage. With trembling fingers, I reached towards the source of my pain. My hand closed around the handle of a dagger. The blade wasn¡¯t visible; it was embedded in my side.

    I gasped, the involuntary action bringing a fresh wave of searing pain. Panic paralyzed me. These suits were supposed to be impenetrable. How had this happened? I¡¯d been so concentrated on the gun that I hadn¡¯t even noticed the knife. My eyes sought those of the man lying underneath me. His astonishment mirrored my own.

    Strong arms pulled me to my feet. I knew instantly that they belonged to Erik. My knees were shaking so badly that I couldn¡¯t stand on my own. He leaned me against the banister for stability. Erik didn¡¯t meet my gaze as he reached for my belt and pulled one of the knives free. His expression was murderous. I knew Erik¡¯s intentions without asking or probing his mind. I averted my eyes as Erik plunged the blade into my attacker¡¯s exposed neck. Bringing my hand to my mouth, I stifled the strangled cry that was fighting its way out. Erik turned to face me, rage burning in his turquoise irises. The intensity that was radiating off of him both terrified and thrilled me. He reached for me, and I collapsed into his waiting arms.

    ¡°Get it out. Erik, get it out,¡± I yelped hysterically, reaching for the end of the dagger in my side. My hands were trembling so badly that I couldn¡¯t grip the handle.

    ¡°No! We need to get you somewhere safe first,¡± Henri exclaimed, coming up behind me. ¡°If we pull it out now, you¡¯ll lose too much blood. We need to get out of here now. Most of these guys are still alive, just unconscious.¡±

    Erik scooped me up in his arms. He bolted out of the house and straight into the woods. Once we were a good distance into the trees, he set me down gently on the forest floor. I was disoriented, my vision hazy. Henri dropped to his knees and morphed into a wolf. Erik fastened all three of our packs to Henri¡¯s back and then turned to me. ¡°I¡¯m going to morph. Can you climb on my back by yourself?¡±

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    ¡°Yes,¡± I answered, even though I wasn¡¯t actually sure that I could.

    Erik morphed into a large dog and dropped down to his stomach, making it easier for me to crawl onto his back. I wrapped my arms around his neck, trying to position myself so that the blade handle wouldn¡¯t bump into his back. We took off into the night.

    Every breath I took sent a fresh wave of pain through my side. I wanted to reach down and check how much blood was soaking through my suit, but I was afraid that I¡¯d fall off if I let go of Erik¡¯s neck. I took ragged, shallow breaths in time with Erik¡¯s paws beating against the dirt. I needed something to distract me from the pain. I tried to count Erik¡¯s footsteps, but my mind was spinning too quickly to keep up.

    The combination of the moonless night and the speed at which we were moving made it impossible for me to actually see our surroundings, but after a time I was positive that we¡¯d passed the safe house. Erik and Henri showed no signs of slowing. I wanted to say something, but I had yet to manage mental communication with either of them in animal form.

    The pain was becoming too much, and I thought there was a chance that I might actually pass out. Fear enveloped me. I wanted Donavon. I instantly scolded myself for being so weak that I needed a boy to comfort me. It was just a little knife wound, after all, right?

    The pain was so intense. It spread from my side, down my left leg and across my stomach. One minute, icy-cold fear shook me. The next, my skin was on fire and sweat bathed my face.

    I gave up caring whether I appeared weak. I reached out to find Donavon¡¯s mind, but I couldn¡¯t even catch the faint buzz of his mental activity from this great a distance. I tried harder, opening my mind and expanding it little by little. It was a lost cause. I now knew definitively that my mental net did not span thousands of miles. Apparently, even I had my limits.

    After what seemed like forever, Erik came to a halt. I gratefully rolled off of him and promptly passed out.

    ¡°Stay with me, Tals. You need to stay with me,¡± Erik urged, frantically shaking my shoulder.

    ¡°I¡¯m here,¡± I mumbled, reaching my hand towards the sound of his voice.

    ¡°Open your eyes,¡± Henri ordered harshly.

    I tried desperately to obey but couldn¡¯t manage more than opening my eyes to small slits. I felt Erik pick me up again. The sound of his footsteps changed as the ground underneath segued from dirt to something smoother¡ªprobably concrete.

    ¡°Where are we?¡± I choked out.

    ¡°The barn,¡± Erik replied tersely.

    He shifted me slightly as he walked up a set of stairs. I winced but managed to keep in the howl climbing up my throat. He set me down on a hard mattress at the top of the stairs. I heard Henri come in after us and the space filled with a faint blue glow. I managed to open my eyes wide enough to see Henri flipping switches on a panel, similar to the one in the control room of the safe house. The computers hummed quietly as they sprang to life.

    Henri started pulling gadgets out of his pack and setting them on the floor next to the mattress.

    ¡°I need to take off your suit so I can do a body scan. If the blade hit any of your organs, I need to know before I take it out. The imager won¡¯t work through the material,¡± he said quietly, searching my face for a sign that I understood him. I nodded to indicate that I did.

    He unzipped the suit down to my waist and slipped the imager underneath the parted fabric, next to where the knife was piercing my skin. His hands were surprisingly soft, and his touch was light as he probed the area surrounding the knife. The sight of the cold, gray handle protruding from my flesh made me dizzy. I looked away as bile rose to the back of my mouth. I searched the room for something to focus on and found Erik standing a couple of feet behind Henri. His arms were crossed, and he was nervously chewing his thumbnail. Erik met my eyes and locked me in a stare. The pain dulled slightly. I breathed out and felt the stomach acids trickle back down.

    ¡°Good news. It went cleanly through without hitting any organs.¡± Henri smiled at me.

    I tried to smile back, but I couldn¡¯t tear my eyes away from Erik.

    ¡°I need to test your blood for poison first. Then, I can remove the blade and sew you up. It should only take a minute.¡±

    I gave another barely perceptible nod. Henri stood to get what he needed for the poison test. Erik moved forward, dropping down to kneel next to my head. Concern rolled off his body in waves.

    ¡°Give me your hands.¡± His voice was not unkind but had a firm, authoritative feel to it. Even if I¡¯d wanted to, I couldn¡¯t have stopped myself from complying. Erik laced his fingers with mine. The pain dulled a little more.

    ¡°Ready, Tal?¡± Henri asked, bending back down.

    I nodded and gritted my teeth.

    ¡°Open your mind and focus on me, Tals,¡± Erik directed in the same firm tone.

    Still helpless to say no to him, I submitted. The pain didn¡¯t totally subside but it did lessen considerably. Henri placed one hand on my hip and one hand on the end of the dagger. In one swift motion, he extracted the long, hooked blade. I¡¯d expected blinding agony, but it didn¡¯t come. There was an odd sensation as it moved through my muscles, but otherwise my body felt almost numb. My eyes were still locked on Erik¡¯s, and when his face contorted and his eyes filled with tears, I understood what he was doing. I admonished myself for not having realized it earlier.

    ¡°No!¡± I shrieked. I tried twisting away from Erik, but he had a firm grip on my hands, and Henri was holding clean towels firmly to both my stomach and back, immobilizing my body. I did manage to break eye contact. The moment I did, a hot, burning pain shot out from the wound in every direction. I gasped as the sensation intensified and spread, writhing on the bed as hot tears filled my eyes. Erik refused to let go of my hands. He was so much stronger than I was, and in my weakened condition, I couldn¡¯t even put up a real fight. He pulled them behind my head and held my face in a vice grip.

    ¡°No,¡± I repeated, this time with much less conviction.

    ¡°Tals, stop. You need to relax and stay still. He can¡¯t give you painkillers. This is the only option that you have.¡± Erik¡¯s face was only inches from mine, his breath hot against the cold sweat covering my face.

    ¡°Your blood is clean. I¡¯m going to sew the wound now,¡± Henri interrupted. ¡°I need to take your suit completely off so that I can get to your back.¡±

    Erik quickly worked my arms out of the suit and pulled it down to my waist. I thought I would be more embarrassed¡ªlying there half-naked¡ªbut the pain was excruciating and I found decorum the least of my concerns. I ground my teeth and tried to fight the nausea that was quickly overtaking me. Erik grabbed my hands and again pinned them behind my head. His elbows dug into my collarbone, but I barely felt it over the pain radiating through my side. He rested his forehead against mine, leaving me nowhere to look but into his eyes.

    Erik was able to mimic my abilities, but he couldn¡¯t match my strength. I¡¯d had years to perfect my talents. He¡¯d had only weeks to work with them. I knew that I could¡¯ve fought against his mental invasion, but my resolve was weak from the events of the night. While I wanted to be strong and not let him do this, I wanted the pain to stop more. I stopped fighting him and opened my mind, the pain easing immediately. I felt myself losing control as Erik took over, but I was beyond caring. In the end, Erik pulled all conscious thought from my mind. The pain completely dissolved.

    ¡°Ready?¡± Henri¡¯s voice asked, sounding a million miles away.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± I heard myself reply in a mechanical voice that sounded nothing like my own.

    I felt disconnected from my body. My alternate reality consisted only of Erik¡¯s eyes. Some part of me felt the tug of the thread that Henri used to stitch my wounds. While I felt no pain, Erik¡¯s eyes filled with tears. I watched in wonder as the tears that should have been mine slowly cascaded down Erik¡¯s cheeks.

    ¡°I can give you something now, Talia. It will make you sleep for a while,¡± Henri¡¯s faraway voice came again.

    ¡°Okay,¡± I muttered. I became aware of my arm as a dull chemical sensation spread from the crook of my elbow, making it heavy.

    ¡°Sleep, Tals.¡± Erik¡¯s said, his voice heavy with exhaustion.

    ¡°I think I will,¡± I replied drowsily as I closed my eyes.

 Chapter Fifteen: The One with Unintentional Eavesdropping

    I fluctuated between varying levels of consciousness. Sometimes I enjoyed a dreamless sleep, sometimes I dreamed only of crying turquoise eyes, and other times I thought that I might actually be awake. During one of my seemingly conscious periods, I thought I heard Henri and Erik talking.

    ¡°I never thought I would see the day,¡± Henri teased, his tone light even though I somehow knew that the underlying mood in the room was heavy.

    ¡°What day?¡±

    ¡°The day that Erikson Kelley would genuinely care enough about a girl to ease her pain instead of causing it.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m offended! I always try to comfort girls in pain,¡± Erik responded, with mock indignation.

    ¡°Yeah, girls suffering from broken hearts who need a shoulder to cry on and a body to keep their bed warm.¡± Henri laughed.

    ¡°It¡¯s comfort all the same, buddy.¡±

    ¡°Seriously, Erik, what you did for her was really amazing. The mastering of her talents alone was pretty impressive but taking the pain¡­ wow.¡±

    ¡°I would do the same for you.¡± Erik sounded embarrassed.

    ¡°Really? Really? You¡¯d take the pain of having a curved blade pulled out and the wound stitched up, without any painkillers, for me?¡± Henri asked incredulously.

    ¡°Of course I would. I would even suck the poison out of a wound for you.¡± Erik¡¯s voice had a light joking tone.

    ¡°No way, man. If I somehow get injected with poison or bit by a poisonous snake, or whatever, promise me that you won¡¯t stick your mouth on my skin. I¡¯ve seen some of the women your mouth goes home with, and I¡¯d rather take my chances with the poison.¡± Henri laughed. There was a dull thud.

    ¡°Ouch,¡± Henri cried, followed by Erik¡¯s laughter.

    ¡°Erik, promise me one other thing,¡± Henri said, his voice turning serious again.

    ¡°Sure, what?¡±

    ¡°You need to put aside any feelings you have for Talia.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have feelings for her, Henri,¡± Erik insisted, his voice so low that I thought I might have misunderstood him.

    ¡°Okay. You want to play it that way? Fine. Just remember one thing¡ªshe has been dating the Director¡¯s son for years, and I don¡¯t see that changing anytime soon.¡±

    ¡°Donavon¡¯s an ass,¡± Erik said emphatically.

    ¡°You know I don¡¯t disagree with you there but that doesn¡¯t give you the right to mess with his girlfriend.¡±

    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t be the first time I¡¯ve slept with another guy¡¯s girlfriend for that reason.¡± Erik tried to lighten the mood.

    ¡°Talia isn¡¯t really the kind of girl that you have a one-night-stand with,¡± Henri switched tactics.

    ¡°What makes you think that it would be only one night?¡±

    ¡°Because you¡¯re you; it¡¯s sort of what you do.¡± Henri paused. ¡°Look, you¡¯re not the only one who cares and doesn¡¯t want to see her hurt.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not the one you have to worry about hurting her,¡± Erik said quietly.

    Henri gave a loud sigh, and I imagined him slowly nodding his head.

    ¡°Yeah, I know you¡¯re not,¡± he replied. ¡°Just promise me that you¡¯ll leave it alone?¡±

    ¡°Whatever, man.¡±

    ¡°Erik, you¡¯ve been different since you met her,¡± Henri insisted.

    ¡°She makes an incredible first impression. There aren¡¯t too many girls who can kick my ass,¡± Erik mused.

    I smiled at the memory.

    The first time I¡¯d met Erik was at my placement exams for the Hunters. The last scoring phase was a five-round spar¡ªfive rounds of hand-to-hand combat against members of the Hunters. No weapons were allowed, only talents and raw physical fighting. Oddly, of all the rounds of qualifying tests to become a Hunter Pledge, this was the one that I had dreaded the least. I knew that most, if not all, of my opponents would be male. I knew that Mac had personally selected the best fighters. I also knew that most of them would be Morphers. Most importantly though, I knew that none of my opponents would be prepared for what I could do. The first four I had beaten because my talent was stronger, not because of my combat skills. I¡¯d used my mental abilities to dictate their moves for them. I¡¯d scripted the fight, choreographed the blows, and known the final act would end with my victory. Not one of my opponents had stood a chance¡ªeach match was essentially over before it began. I was cocky by the time I faced the fifth competitor. I knew that being last meant that he was the best fighter. I hadn¡¯t known that he was a Mimic.

    At first, Erik had fallen prey to my mental manipulation like the others, but he quickly realized what I was doing. Soon he was using my own abilities against me. I¡¯d never met a Mimic or another elite-level Manipulator, so I was unprepared. I was already drained from expending so much mental energy on the previous fights. When I realized that I would have to fight him for real, I panicked. I had never envisioned a future where I didn¡¯t become a Hunter, and I wasn¡¯t about to let him change that. I went at him with everything I had¡ªand then some more.

    Our fight had been dirty, a no-holds-barred sparring match. When it became obvious neither of us would concede victory to the other, Mac declared the match a tie. At the time, I¡¯d been incredulous that I¡¯d have to take a draw for my last fight. Later, on my first day of training at Elite Headquarters, Henri informed me that it was the first time Erik hadn¡¯t won¡ªever.

    ¡°Talia, it¡¯s time to wake up,¡± Erik whispered, close to my ear.

    ¡°Not ready yet,¡± I replied sleepily. I could feel him smoothing the damp curls that were stuck to my forehead. Why was I so sweaty? Why was Erik whispering in my ear to wake me up? My eyes flew open and I tried to sit up, but my stomach muscles protested. I was barely able to lift my back off of the bed. The sudden and intense throbbing in my side made me fully conscious, like a cold bucket of water to the face.

    ¡°Easy.¡± Erik smiled at me. ¡°We have time, you don¡¯t need to rush.¡±

    ¡°I think I might need help getting up,¡± I said sheepishly.

    ¡°Hold still so I can check your stitches, okay?¡±

    ¡°As long as you promise that it won¡¯t hurt,¡± I tried to joke, but instantly regretted it when the memory of the pain he¡¯d taken from me surfaced.

    His hands lightly touched my bare stomach, and I froze. I felt a jolt of electricity where his fingertips lingered. My whole body was overcome by a pleasant tingly sensation and my heart started racing. I gasped involuntarily. I felt the blood rush to my face, and I tried to hide my humiliation over my body¡¯s reaction.

    ¡°Did that hurt?¡± Erik asked, his voice laced with concern. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I¡¯ll be more careful.¡±

    ¡°No, it didn¡¯t hurt,¡± I whispered. ¡°I¡¯m just jumpy,¡± I added lamely.

    ¡°I won¡¯t hurt you,¡± he promised.

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    I instantly recalled the conversation that I¡¯d heard between him and Henri, wondering if it had, in fact, been a dream.

    ¡°Where¡¯s Henri?¡± I asked, changing the subject.

    ¡°Packing the car and getting us ready to leave.¡±

    ¡°What all does he have to do?¡± As long as I kept talking, I could ignore my body¡¯s involuntary response to Erik¡¯s contact.

    ¡°He¡¯s burning all the stuff with your blood on it.¡±

    ¡°What? Why? I thought he said my blood wasn¡¯t poisoned?¡± I said frantically, trying to sit up again.

    ¡°It¡¯s just protocol, Tals,¡± Erik soothed. ¡°After I get you up and dressed, he¡¯ll burn this mattress and the sheets, too.¡±

    ¡°Oh, right¡­ protocol.¡±

    ¡°Your stitches look good. Let me help you up so I can re-bandage the wound.¡±

    Erik slowly lifted me into a sitting position. I sat on the edge of the bed, wearing only my bra and underwear, and feeling more than a little self-conscious. Erik carefully covered my stitches with bandages and then wrapped gauze around my entire mid-section. He handed me a black tank top, and I pulled it on over my bandages.

    ¡°Stitches feel okay?¡± he asked.

    ¡°As good as they can,¡± I answered.

    Erik helped me to my feet and handed me a pair of loose cotton pants, but I couldn¡¯t bend over to put them on myself.

    ¡°I feel like a little kid,¡± I lamented as Erik helped me into one leg and then the other.

    ¡°No way. You wouldn¡¯t believe the number of times I¡¯ve done this for Henri.¡± He winked at me.

    I rewarded his attempt at humor with a small snort of laughter but instantly regretted it when pain exploded down my left side.

    Once my pants were on, Erik guided my feet into leather flip-flops and wrapped a lightweight jacket around my shoulders.

    ¡°Ready?¡± Henri asked, walking through the door.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± I smiled. ¡°I¡¯m ready to go home.¡±

    ¡°Erik, get her into the vehicle while I finish up with the mattress and sheets.¡±

    Erik half-carried me down the stairs from what I now realized was a loft in the barn. Once I was as comfortably settled as I could be in the backseat of the car, he went back to assist Henri.

    The new vehicle was even nicer than the previous one. For starters, it was a lot bigger and had a lot more gadgets. There was enough firepower in the doors to outfit an army, and the front passenger seat looked like a mobile command center.

    Henri opened the driver¡¯s side door and hopped in. Erik climbed in the passenger seat and started up the display screens. Apparently, it didn¡¯t just look like a mobile command center¡ªit actually was one. We drove through the open barn doors, and I noticed that it was dark out.

    ¡°How long was I asleep?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Only about three hours,¡± Henri answered. ¡°We couldn¡¯t spare any more time. I wanted to leave while it was still dark.¡± Shame washed over me at his unspoken meaning. We had to drive because I wasn¡¯t in any shape to make the trek on foot or even ride on Erik¡¯s back.

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you lie back down and sleep?¡± Erik suggested. ¡°It¡¯ll be a couple of hours until we get to the pickup location.¡±

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± I asked, nodding towards the monitors.

    ¡°Checking in. The Director wants us in constant contact with him. He¡¯s worried about you,¡± Erik said.

    Great, Mac already knew that I¡¯d screwed up my first mission.

    I was still in a lot of pain and woozy from the drugs that Henri had given me earlier. I curled up in the nest of blankets and pillows and instantly fell back to sleep.

    I slept during the entire drive, only waking when the vehicle stopped. Henri parked outside of a large, old house. It looked like it had once been beautiful but had succumbed to neglect and age. The peeling paint revealed wooden boards underneath and the windows were so thick with grime that it was impossible to tell if curtains hung inside. A white wraparound porch marked the entrance to the house, but I doubted that it would hold my weight, let alone all three of us.

    The sun was fully up and shining brightly in the sky. I guessed it was late morning by the angle.

    ¡°Where are we?¡± I asked drowsily.

    ¡°About five miles from the hover-plane,¡± Henri answered. ¡°Erik will morph and carry you the rest of the way. It¡¯s too risky to drive any farther.¡±

    ¡°I can walk,¡± I insisted.

    ¡°No, you can¡¯t,¡± Erik interjected.

    I gritted my teeth and sighed. I hated to admit it, but he was right. I was weak and in a lot of pain. It was unlikely I¡¯d make it the entire way on my own. Even more than admitting that Erik was right, I hated that he knew how crappy I felt. He was reading it out of my mind, and I didn¡¯t like having the tables turned on me like that.

    Erik morphed into a large black horse as soon as he exited the vehicle, and Henri lifted me easily onto his back. Once I was settled, the three of us set off towards the town. Erik trotted at a moderate pace. Henri ran alongside of us, ready to catch me should I fall. Each step sent a jolt of pain up my side, but I knew that this was better than the alternative: walking.

    The town was small, with only one real street that was lined with old brick buildings. Erik and Henri both slowed to a walk, and Henri reached up to take my hand. It was early enough that few people walked the street. To onlookers, we looked like a man with his wife and their horse.

    As we walked, I spotted a hover-plane with The Agency logo idling halfway down the street. Nearing the plane, I noticed the exterior had the telltale sheen of camo-metal. There was a more technical name, but I couldn¡¯t pronounce it. The metal was designed so that once we were airborne, it would blend in with the sky and make the plane hard to detect. The metal also contained a chemical coating that scrambled radar.

    Henri gripped my hand tighter and walked up to the plane. Several Agency medics surrounded the ramp that led into the underbelly of the plane, looking anxious.

    ¡°We were starting to get worried,¡± a curly, blond Medic called out, sounding relieved.

    ¡°Sorry, we got here as quickly as we could,¡± Henri called back.

    A small red-haired boy with freckles waited inside. He gave a small, relieved smile when he saw us. ¡°Hey, Natalia,¡± he greeted me.

    ¡°Hey,¡± I replied. I recognized the boy from school¡ªwe were in the same year. I thought that his name might be Chad, but I wasn¡¯t sure.

    He reached up and carefully lifted me down from Erik¡¯s back. As soon as I was off, Erik morphed back to human form, causing the Medic pledge to gasp. I guessed that he¡¯d never actually seen someone morph before.

    ¡°Hi there, I¡¯m Erik,¡± he said, extending his hand.

    ¡°Chad,¡± the red-haired boy stammered, confirming my earlier guess.

    There was a bed sitting off to the right. Erik helped me over to it with his arm wrapped around my waist, careful not to disturb my stitches. Chad followed closely behind.

    Once I was settled comfortably with my head on the small, square pillow, Chad worked quickly, hooking up monitoring devices to my body. There was a cuff on my arm to monitor my blood pressure, several cold plastic leads on my chest to monitor my heart, and sensors on each temple to monitor my brain activity.

    While Chad worked, I watched Henri and the remaining Medics file through to the front cabin of the plane. Erik stayed back with me, not wanting to get in Chad¡¯s way, but refusing to take his seat.

    The curly, blond Medic joined Chad at my bedside and introduced himself as Dr. Daid. He patiently listened as Chad quickly briefed him on all my vitals. Having no idea what my vitals should be, I didn¡¯t know if the numbers that he rambled off were normal.

    ¡°Take off in five,¡± called a gruff voice from the front of the plane.

    ¡°You should get belted in,¡± Dr. Daid said to Erik.

    ¡°I¡¯d rather stay back here if that¡¯s okay,¡± Erik replied tightly.

    ¡°Suit yourself.¡± Dr. Daid turned to collect some supplies that he would need.

    Erik helped me turn on my side and then covered me with a thin, scratchy blanket.

    ¡°How¡¯re you feeling, Tal?¡± Henri asked, poking his head back in from the main cabin, his eyes full of concern.

    ¡°I think I¡¯ll live,¡± I answered.

    ¡°Good.¡± He smiled warmly. ¡°It¡¯ll be a couple of hours before we get back to Headquarters. Once the Medics check you out, they¡¯ll give you something to make you sleep.¡± Henri turned to Erik, ¡°Come up front when you¡¯re done.¡±

    ¡°Will do,¡± Erik replied, not taking his eyes off mine.

    Chad returned to my bedside with a tray of instruments. He watched as Dr. Daid used an imager, slightly fancier than the one Henri had used, to scan my stomach and back. The images were displayed on a large monitor behind the bed. He assured me that the blade hadn¡¯t ruptured any organs and that the only real internal damage was a scrape on my lower rib. He touched the screen of the monitor, on an image of my rib, to enlarge the area that he was talking about. I nodded my understanding, but I had no idea what he was actually pointing at.

    Next, Dr. Daid removed the bandages. I winced as he touched the area surrounding the stitches. Erik offered me his hand, and I squeezed it hard. The pain made me grip a little harder than I meant to and a groan escaped Erik¡¯s lips.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± I sent apologetically.

    Erik smiled kindly and rubbed his thumb gently across the backs of my fingers to let me know he didn¡¯t mind.

    ¡°The stitches look great,¡± Dr. Daid commented. ¡°Whoever did these has a very steady hand. Once you heal, we¡¯ll be able to remove the scar without a problem.¡± He grabbed a white spray bottle off his tray of accouterments and sprayed both sets of stitches. When the droplets first hit my skin, I let out a small scream as a white-hot pain shot through my body. Just as quickly as the pain had come, it was gone. It was replaced by a cool, numbing sensation.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± Dr. Daid said, sheepishly, ¡°should¡¯ve warned you.¡± He grabbed a small pen-like object off of his tray and reached for my free hand. Before I had time to ask what he was doing, I felt a sharp prick on the pad of my index finger. He squeezed a few drops of my blood into a small vial.

    ¡°I¡¯m doing a more complete test for poison,¡± he explained. ¡°The field kit they give you guys only tests for the common ones.¡±

    I nodded my understanding and looked over at Erik, who attempted a reassuring smile.

    Finally, Dr. Daid took clean white bandages and rewrapped my mid-section. When he was finished, he gave me a cocktail injection of painkillers, an anti-infection medication, and something to make me sleep.

    ¡°I¡®ll come check on you a little later,¡± the doctor promised. Dr. Daid turned his attention to Erik. ¡°You should let her sleep. She¡¯ll heal faster.¡± He got up and made his way to the front of the craft. Erik nodded, but waited until the doctor was gone before speaking with me.

    Erik leaned down and whispered in my ear, ¡°If you need anything, I¡¯ll be right up front. Just yell, okay?¡±

    ¡°Thanks,¡± I mumbled. The injection hit me hard, and I was already struggling to keep my eyes open. I had nearly drifted off when I felt the pressure of Erik¡¯s hand release my own.

 Chapter Sixteen: The One with a Displeased Director

    I slept the entire way to Headquarters. When I awoke, I was groggy and disoriented. Henri and Erik had to help me down the ramp to exit the plane. When we reached the bottom, I felt them both stiffen. It took me a minute to react to their change in demeanor. When I looked up, I saw Mac standing several feet away. Donavon was on one side of him, and, to my surprise, Penny was standing on the other.

    ¡°Natalia,¡± Mac exclaimed, moving towards me. His long strides closed the gap quickly. ¡°How are you?¡± His big, gray eyes were full of fatherly concern.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine, Mac. It could¡¯ve been worse,¡± I reassured him.

    ¡°Did you lose a lot of blood?¡±

    ¡°Um, I don¡¯t think so,¡± I replied, confused.

    ¡°No, sir, she didn¡¯t lose much. I was able to stop the bleeding pretty quickly and, of course, I burned everything afterwards,¡± Henri said, stepping forward.

    ¡°Wonderful, Operative Reich. Do you have the information?¡±

    ¡°Of course, sir.¡±

    ¡°Good. Why don¡¯t you and I go back to my room so I can look it over?¡± Mac suggested. Henri nodded and Mac turned his attention to me. ¡°Natalia, go lay down, and I will come visit you before I leave.¡±

    ¡°Thanks, Mac.¡± I reached out and gave him an awkward hug.

    Erik stood frozen next to me. He kept his face blank, an unreadable mask. His mind was barricaded with thick walls that I couldn¡¯t easily penetrate, but I got the feeling that he was fighting to keep himself in control. I assumed his tension was on account of Donavon¡¯s presence, except I swore the air around his body visibly relaxed when Mac left.

    I watched as Mac walked away, Henri following in his wake. Once his father was gone, Donavon rushed forward and wrapped me in his arms.

    ¡°I was so worried, Tal,¡± he breathed.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± I said, returning his hug. ¡°I¡¯m just really tired, and I missed you so much.¡±

    ¡°I missed you, too.¡±

    Erik cleared his throat noisily, and I pulled back from Donavon. ¡°It¡¯s been a long day. I¡¯m going back to the cabin. You coming, Tals?¡± he asked.

    ¡°I was thinking she could stay in my room for the night?¡± Penny hurried forward, talking for the first time. ¡°After all, my room is so much nicer, and she can have some privacy and stuff.¡±

    ¡°Thanks, Penny, but I don¡¯t want to bother you or anything,¡± I replied.

    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s not a problem at all. It¡¯ll only be for a night or two, and it will be fun¡ªlike a sleepover!¡± Her bright green eyes were a shining mix of concern and excitement.

    Penny had a point; her room was a lot nicer than my cabin. She even had a huge soaking tub in her bathroom. I felt grimy from head to toe and wanted nothing more than to lie down¡ªand possibly take a long, relaxing bath.

    ¡°Thanks, Penny, that¡¯d be great,¡± I answered honestly.

    ¡°See you tomorrow, Tals.¡± Erik left without so much as a word to Penny or Donavon.

    The medical cocktail was beginning to wear off, but I still didn¡¯t trust my motor skills. Donavon must have sensed my uneasiness because he immediately wrapped one arm protectively around my waist. I leaned gratefully into him and we headed to Penny¡¯s room. It was a slow trip, made slower because I needed to stop and rest several times.

    Penny¡¯s room was located in the largest of the three housing buildings, and the enormous structure contained ten floors. Workout facilities, an indoor pool, and a service kitchen made up the first several levels. The upper floors housed Cryptos, older Hunters, and the Medics. The smaller of the other two buildings contained suites where higher-ups like Captain Alvarez lived and where Mac stayed when he visited. The third building housed the essential support staff: receptionists, cooks, cleaning staff, etc.

    The huge glass doors slid silently open as Donavon, Penny, and I approached the entrance to Penny¡¯s building. We entered the cavernous main foyer. A glass ceiling stretched all the way to the tenth floor and skyways bridged the gaps between the east and west wings.

    Donavon half-dragged, half-carried me to the west elevator bank. Once inside, Penny pressed six and the elevator shot upwards so fast I thought I might be sick. I scrunched my eyes closed and leaned further into Donavon for support.

    The elevator came to an abrupt stop on Penny¡¯s floor. The steel doors parted as a mechanical, female voice said, ¡°Level six.¡±

    Thankfully, Penny¡¯s room was near the elevator.

    ¡°Welcome to my home,¡± Penny said, opening the door using a fingerprint scanner; no doorknobs here. Her greeting was for Donavon. I had been to Penny¡¯s room numerous times.

    My entire cabin could¡¯ve easily fit inside Penny¡¯s room. The floor was covered in plush, white carpeting that was soft to the touch. The walls were also white, and Penny had hung brightly painted pictures to liven up the room. Her huge bed was up against the far glass wall. Penny had the glass wall set to show the actual scene outside, but she was able to program the window to any number of outdoor scenes¡ªincluding snowy mountains, sandy beaches, and flowery fields. My room at Mac and Gretchen¡¯s house had the same technology.

    The bathroom was half the size of the bedroom and made of white marble with grayish flecks. She had a large soaking tub with enough room for four and a walk-in shower. The pedestal sink and the toilet were also white with gold fixtures.

    As soon as we walked through the door, I made a bee-line for the bathroom, leaving Penny and Donavon to entertain each other. I turned on the gold faucet, waited while the tub filled with warm water, and then added the contents of a small bottle to create soapy bluish-colored bubbles.

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    I tried to remove my clothes but found the pain too intense when I raised my hands over my head to take off my shirt.

    ¡°Donavon?¡± I called.

    ¡°Right outside the door, Tal,¡± he sent back.

    ¡°Can you come help me?¡±

    I disengaged the lock so he could enter. I sat on the closed lid of the toilet, trying to wriggle my way out of my shirt. Donavon smiled when he saw me tangled in my own clothing.

    ¡°Stop, stop, stop. I¡¯ll do it.¡± He gently helped me pull my arms out of my shirt and up over my head.

    ¡°I can do the rest myself. Thanks.¡± I smiled at him, taking in his clear blue eyes. Suddenly, I didn¡¯t want to be alone. The events of the past day and a half hit home. I could have died. I might never have looked into Donavon¡¯s eyes again.

    ¡°Will you sit in here while I take a bath?¡± I pleaded. I sounded desperate, but I didn¡¯t care.

    ¡°Of course.¡± I could tell by the look on his face that I was projecting my thoughts onto him.

    ¡°I know you¡¯re scared right now,¡± he began, confirming that I was, indeed, projecting. ¡°It¡¯s normal to be scared after what you¡¯ve been through. These kinds of accidents happen all the time. You¡¯ll get used to it,¡± he continued.

    Get used to it? I was pretty sure I didn¡¯t want to get used to being stabbed.

    ¡°Turn around so I can finish getting undressed,¡± I ordered.

    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡± He smirked.

    I stood and untied the drawstring on my pants. Thankfully, they fell to the floor without any further prompting. Getting out of my underwear was tricky, but I managed. No way was I asking Donavon for assistance doing that. The bandages were supposedly waterproof, so I figured I would take my chances and leave them on. I climbed the steps to the tub and lowered myself into the soapy water. My muscles instantly began to relax, and I sighed contentedly.

    ¡°You can turn around now,¡± I called to Donavon.

    He walked over and sat on the steps to the tub. ¡°Want to tell me what happened?¡± he asked, batting at the bubbles.

    ¡°Not really,¡± I answered, but I found myself launching into the story anyway. I talked until the water cooled and only a thin layer of bubbles remained. I told Donavon everything. Well, not quite everything. I didn¡¯t tell him about what Erik did; how he transferred my pain to himself.

    I don¡¯t exactly know why I didn¡¯t tell him about what a sacrifice Erik made for me. Okay, that¡¯s not true. I knew why. I didn¡¯t want him to be upset, and I certainly didn¡¯t want to further the feelings of animosity between the two of them. I was careful not to think about Erik¡¯s involvement in my impromptu medical care, and Donavon seemed oblivious to any holes in my story.

    After my bath, I felt a million times better and unequivocally cleaner. Penny and Donavon helped me into Penny¡¯s huge bed. I sank gratefully into the soft mattress, letting it mold to my body.

    ¡°Want to watch something on the screen?¡± Penny asked brightly.

    ¡°Something funny,¡± I answered, even though I wasn¡¯t likely to stay awake that long.

    ¡°You got it,¡± Penny replied, a little too cheerfully.

    Penny turned on her wall screen using a remote device, clicked through several menus, and selected a romantic comedy about some ridiculous love triangle. I tried to pay attention to the movie, but my thoughts kept straying to Erik. I blamed the drugs. Every time I caught a glimpse of Donavon out of the corner of my eye, I felt guilty, as if I¡¯d done something wrong. I finally started to doze off.

    I felt Donavon kiss me on the forehead. ¡°I¡¯ll see you tomorrow.¡±

    I mumbled something unintelligible and fell asleep.

    I slept through the night and for most of the next day. When I woke, I saw Penny sitting at her table working on a small portable computer.

    ¡°Hey,¡± I mumbled.

    ¡°Oh good, you¡¯re up!¡± she exclaimed, closing her portable. ¡°How do you feel?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve been better,¡± I said, trying to sit up.

    ¡°Are you hungry? I can order us something to eat.¡± That was another advantage of staying with Penny: room service.

    ¡°That¡¯d be great. I¡¯m famished,¡± I admitted. I couldn¡¯t remember the last time I¡¯d eaten.

    Penny used an electronic menu to order us platters of cheesy eggs and buttery onion bread, with a pitcher of melon juice to wash it all down. I carefully climbed out of bed, over the mess of blankets and pillows that Penny had used as a makeshift bed the night before, and made my way to the bathroom. It took me longer than normal to complete my morning routine. When I exited the bathroom I heard Penny thanking the room service deliveryman.

    We sat at her white plastic table, and I hungrily devoured all of my food¡ªplus half of Penny¡¯s.

    ¡°I can order you more if you want,¡± she joked.

    ¡°Sorry, it¡¯s been a couple of days since I¡¯ve had food that¡¯s not dehydrated,¡± I replied, embarrassed.

    ¡°Want to tell me about what happened?¡± she asked, her voice softening.

    ¡°Not right now,¡± I responded.

    Telling Donavon had been one thing; he could at least relate to what I¡¯d been through. Penny lived a very different life. It was unlikely that she¡¯d ever leave the comforts of Headquarters.

    ¡°I understand.¡± She tried to hide her disappointment, but I knew she was hurt I didn¡¯t want to confide in her. She looked as though she might press the issue but then decided against it.

    ¡°The Director sent several Comms. He wants you to contact him as soon as you¡¯re up and moving.¡±

    ¡°Can I use your Communicator?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Of course,¡± she said, gesturing to her bedside table where the device sat.

    I called Mac and let him know I was feeling a little better. He said that he was still at Headquarters and would stop by shortly. After we disconnected, I used mental communication to let Donavon know that I was awake. I told him that I would be back in Hunters Village that night and I would come to see him.

    When Mac arrived, Penny excused herself and left us to talk. He asked me about my injuries and for a detailed account of the night we invaded the house. He listened carefully without comment, but I could tell that he was taking mental notes.

    ¡°The lab called last night. There isn¡¯t any poison in your blood,¡± Mac told me after I¡¯d finished my report.

    ¡°That¡¯s good news,¡± I replied, relieved.

    ¡°It is,¡± Mac confirmed, but his expression said otherwise. ¡°There was poison on the blade that Operative Reich removed, however, which was what allowed it to penetrate your suit. Ordinarily a knife of that size would not have been able to pierce the fabric, let alone slice through it.¡± Pausing, Mac studied me intently. I shrank under his scrutiny. ¡°You are very lucky, Natalia. The adapti-suit absorbed the poison before it could enter your bloodstream.¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± I said quietly, my gaze focused on my hands in my lap. Taking a deep breath, I brought my eyes up to meet Mac¡¯s inquisitive stare. ¡°It could have been a lot worse. I do understand that. And, well, I¡¯m sorry. I messed up. I understand that, too.¡±

    Mac was silent for several long moments. I braced myself for a lecture, positive that was where this was going. Finally, his steel eyes softened and Mac said, ¡°These things happen. No Hunter, no matter how experienced, can plan for every possible outcome.¡±

    Just to be sure he was genuine, I did a quick swipe of his mind. Mac hated when I invaded his thoughts, but I needed to know the truth. Platitudes and false reassurances did me no good. I needed to know just how badly I¡¯d screwed up, that way I could do better in the future.

    Mac was disappointed with my performance. He¡¯d staked his reputation on me being Hunter material, and I¡¯d basically proven that I wasn¡¯t ready for fieldwork. Mac¡¯s displeasure hurt worse than my attacker¡¯s blade.

    As though sensing my shame, Mac patted my shoulder and forced a smile. ¡°You¡¯ll do better next time. The important thing is that you¡¯re alive.¡± Mac stood to leave. ¡°I should get going. Stop by medical before the end of the day. Dr. Daid would like to check your stitches and make sure that you are healing properly. I have spoken with both the doctor and Operative Reich and agree that you are ready to practice again, starting tomorrow.¡±

    I accompanied Mac to the door. ¡°Thank you for coming. I know you are busy and running over here to check on me shouldn¡¯t be something that you need to worry about.¡±

    Mac smiled fondly. ¡°I had other business to take care of, but I did want to hear about the incident from your point of view. I am glad to learn that your injuries were minor. I know Gretchen will be relieved, too. She does worry about you.¡±

    ¡°Tell her I said hello,¡± I replied.

    ¡°Of course. Take care of yourself, Natalia.¡±

 Chapter Seventeen: The One Where Things Get Confusing

    Penny returned within seconds of Mac¡¯s departure. She offered to accompany me to Medical and sit with me while Dr. Daid looked at my stitches. Together, we walked across the grounds at a leisurely pace¡ªfor once, neither of us concerned with hurrying from place to place. We didn¡¯t have to wait long after our arrival before the receptionist showed us back to an examination room.

    ¡°You are healing nicely, Natalia,¡± Dr. Daid informed me after he¡¯d done a thorough examination of my wounds. ¡°How are your pain levels?¡±

    I shrugged. ¡°Not too high.¡±

    The doctor eyed me doubtfully as I struggled to put my shirt back on. ¡°Why don¡¯t I give you a mild painkiller? Nothing too powerful, just something to help with the lasting aches.¡±

    ¡°Sure,¡± I agreed.

    Once the medicine hit my system, I felt better instantly.

    ¡°Come by tomorrow morning before practice. I want to check you over one last time before you resume training,¡± Dr. Daid advised sternly. I wondered if he¡¯d actually been onboard with me returning to practice so soon.

    After we left Medical, Penny escorted me back to my cabin.

    ¡°You should totally stay with me again tonight. You¡¯ll be so much more comfortable at my place,¡± she pleaded once we¡¯d arrived at my door.

    ¡°I absolutely cannot take your bed again,¡± I argued. ¡°Besides, I¡¯m feeling much better today. As nice as your bed is, I really want to sleep in my own.¡± I actually was feeling a lot better. More than anything, I wanted to put the disastrous mission behind me. If I¡¯d let Mac down, I could only imagine how Henri was feeling. My placement scores at School had been high enough to get me assigned to the Hunters, but it was Henri who had spoken up and insisted he could make my talent useful on missions. No other team captains had been willing to take the risk. Gaining Henri¡¯s approval meant nearly as much to me as gaining Mac¡¯s did.

    ¡°Well, if you change your mind, just come on back.¡± Penny wrapped her thin arms around me.

    After an awkward pause¡ªI wasn¡¯t a big hugger¡ªI returned her embrace. ¡°Thanks for everything, Penny. It means a lot to me,¡± I told her honestly.

    ¡°That¡¯s what friends are for, Talia.¡±

    I smiled. ¡°Yeah, friends.¡±

    I walked into my darkened cabin, noticing immediately that neither Erik nor Henri was inside. The childish part of me was sad about their absence, disappointed that they were both gone; they weren¡¯t sitting here, waiting on pins and needles for my return. Part of me was also relieved, though. I didn¡¯t want to see Erik. My feelings for him were becoming muddled. I tried telling myself that I had just been through an ordeal, and I was confusing the gratitude that I had for all he had done for me with something more.

    I assumed normal teenagers had lived through more than one crush by the time they were my age. Penny seemed to have a new infatuation every other day. But I had yet to have a real crush. Unless Donavon counted, and I wasn¡¯t sure that he did. Looking back, I couldn¡¯t remember when my feelings for him evolved from mere friendship to something romantic. I could, however, recall the exact moment that Donavon expressed his desire to cross that line.

    One hot summer day, we¡¯d been sitting, dangling our feet in the lake. I sat as still as possible because every movement, no matter how small, caused fresh drops of sweat to leave salty trails down my back. Donavon was beside me, skipping rocks across the lake¡¯s glassy surface. I used my mental abilities to make the huge leaves on the surrounding trees fan us, creating a small breeze in the otherwise stagnant air.

    Lost in my own thoughts, I jumped when Donavon put his hand on my arm. Nervous energy radiated off of him in waves. The physical contact, mixed with the intensity of his emotions, made it nearly impossible not to know what he was thinking and feeling. He wanted to kiss me. In fact, he¡¯d wanted to kiss me for weeks, but he wasn¡¯t sure how I¡¯d respond. Finally having plucked up the courage to make his move, only one question remained in Donavon¡¯s mind: Should he ask me or just go for it?

    Only seconds passed, but I grew so impatient waiting for him to decide that I leaned over and kissed him firmly on the lips. It was awkward at first. We bumped noses, knocked teeth, and always seemed to tilt our heads in the same direction. It didn¡¯t take us long to get the hang of it, though.

    We never had a conversation about being a couple. Donavon never asked me to be his girlfriend. I never asked him to be my boyfriend. It just happened and nobody seemed surprised. I hadn¡¯t really thought about him like that before our kiss. But afterwards, it only seemed natural for us to date. I never felt nervous or uncomfortable around Donavon, yet I rarely felt a surge of adrenaline when he kissed me either. And my heart definitely never skipped beats when he touched me, not like it had when Erik ran his fingers over my stomach. I wasn¡¯t sure if that was what a crush felt like, but I hated myself for having more than platonic feelings for Erik. It was a betrayal of my relationship with Donavon.

    Gratitude, I told myself. Gratitude was the feeling I had for Erik. He¡¯d helped me through a difficult situation, and I was grateful to him. Yes, that was the most likely explanation. A vision of his turquoise eyes swimming with tears filled my mind. I shook my head as if to erase the image before my emotions became even more confused.

    I went straight to my bed and was planning on climbing under the covers, when I noticed the light on my Communicator blinking. I hit the hologram button. Henri¡¯s head materialized.

    ¡°Hi, Talia. I am staying in the city with a friend tonight. Erik is likely to stay in D.C., as well. We hope you are feeling better. Rest up. We¡¯ll see you at training in the morning,¡± the message announced.

    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    Thank goodness, I thought, kicking off my shoes and climbing into bed. I opened my mind and reached out to Donavon.

    ¡°Want to come over and sleep with me?¡± I asked, half hoping he¡¯d say no. I really wanted to be alone, but my conscience reasoned that if I asked, it would alleviate some of the guilt I was feeling about Erik.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be right there.¡±

    I tamped down my disappointment before Donavon could pick up on it.

    He knocked three times on my door and then pushed it open. Not bothering to turn on the light, Donavon walked directly over to my bed and climbed in next to me.

    ¡°Are they going to be gone all night?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Yep. Henri left me a message.¡±

    ¡°Is he staying with Frederick?¡±

    ¡°How did you know about that?¡± I asked, surprised.

    Donavon shrugged. ¡°I¡¯ve hung out with them in the city a couple of times. Frederick¡¯s pretty cool. He used to be with TOXIC. It¡¯s pretty well known that Henri stays with him before and after all of his missions.¡±

    ¡°He used to be with The Agency? Is Frederick talented?¡±

    ¡°Technically, but very low-level. He wasn¡¯t placed after graduation. After working a remedial job at Headquarters for a couple of years, he got permission to leave and went to work in D.C.¡±

    Very interesting. Some people weren¡¯t placed in a major division after graduation because their powers weren¡¯t strong enough. It actually wasn¡¯t uncommon. However, I hadn¡¯t realized that people left TOXIC once they had a job here¡ªremedial or not. Even a remedial job with TOXIC was better than being off on your own. The Agency provided everything for their operatives: housing, clothing, food, a steady income.

    ¡°Do you hang out with Erik when you¡¯re in D.C.?¡± I asked before I could stop myself.

    ¡°I have, but not often. He and Harris have been friends since school, so sometimes we all go out together. Why?¡±

    ¡°Just curious,¡± I replied nonchalantly.

    Why did I want to know? Did it really matter? I tried to clear my mind; I was worried that thinking too much about Erik might cause me to project my thoughts about him onto Donavon.

    Donavon¡¯s mental voice was hesitant as he changed the subject. ¡°I¡¯m leaving in a couple of days for a mission.¡±

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me last night?¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t want to bother you with it. It¡¯s not a big deal; it should be simple. I should be gone for only a few days.¡±

    ¡°Well, I¡¯m glad that we get to spend tonight together, then.¡± I kissed his cheek softly. Another wave of guilt washed over me when I thought about the reason I¡¯d reached out and asked him to come over. I was lying on my non-injured side, so I rolled onto my back and pulled Donavon¡¯s head down, giving him a kiss on his lips this time. ¡°You¡¯ll be careful?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m always careful.¡± He leaned in and kissed me again.

    We talked well into the night. It felt so good to just spend time with Donavon. I felt like we were back at school, sneaking into each other¡¯s rooms late at night. I was so tired, but I didn¡¯t want to fall asleep¡ªnot yet. I wanted to spend every minute that I could with him since we so rarely had the chance to do this anymore. The more time that I was with Donavon, the less confused I felt about Erik. By the time I finally closed my eyes, I was able to convince myself that my feelings for Erik were strictly limited to gratitude.

    I woke up when Donavon eased himself out of bed before sunrise.

    ¡°Where ya going?¡± I mumbled, reaching towards him.

    ¡°I have an early practice. We have a lot to go over before we leave for this mission. I also don¡¯t really want to be here when Erik gets back,¡± he whispered. He kissed my cheek. ¡°I love you.¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± I muttered.

    Donavon sighed, and I heard his quiet footsteps moving towards the door. I was already back to sleep when Donavon closed the door softly behind him.

    I was fifteen when Donavon left for his pledge year with the Hunters. The day before he was scheduled to depart, we spent the entire day by the lake. Donavon packed a picnic of cheeses, breads, and jams. In between eating, swimming, and making out, we lounged on blankets and soaked up the sun. We were drying off from our latest swim, watching the sunset, when Donavon rolled up onto his side and leaned over me.

    ¡°It¡¯s going to be hard at first, Tal but promise me you¡¯ll hang in there with me.¡± Donavon¡¯s blue eyes were clouded with nerves.

    ¡°Of course, I will. You promise me that you won¡¯t forget me once you¡¯re surrounded by all those city girls,¡± I teased.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯d be possible for me to forget you. I literally can¡¯t get you out of my head,¡± he joked, leaning down to kiss me softly. He ran one hand along my hip and my upper thigh. I responded by wrapping my legs around his waist. Our kisses became deeper, more desperate. My heart was pounding in my chest and my stomach was full of butterflies. There was barely any material separating us, since we were both wearing bathing suits. Where his skin touched mine, it tingled and I felt alive. He moved his mouth from mine and started kissing my neck. I gulped air greedily, trying to catch my breath. His hands were running over every inch of my exposed skin.

    ¡°Donavon, I love you,¡± I whispered.

    ¡°What?¡±

    I¡¯d caught him off guard with my admission. He pulled back as though I¡¯d given him an electric shock.

    ¡°I love you,¡± I said in a clear voice.

    Donavon just stared at me, a gamut of emotions racing through his mind.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what to say,¡± he finally responded, pushing my legs off of him.

    ¡°I think this is where you say you love me, too,¡± I said slowly, pushing him the rest of the way off me.

    Donavon looked everywhere but at me, refusing to meet my eyes.

    I exploded with indignation. By this point in my short life, my temper was already part of my trademark. ¡°I see how it is. You expect me to have sex with you, but you can¡¯t even tell me how you really feel about me?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, Tal. I mean, I¡¯m only seventeen. How do I know if I love you?¡±

    I felt as if I¡¯d been punched in the stomach. All of the air rushed out of my lungs. I focused my energy and bore into his mind.

    ¡°Talia, don¡¯t,¡± Donavon ordered sharply. He scrambled farther away from me and covered his head with his arms, trying to keep me out of his mind.

    ¡°I know that you love me, but if you¡¯re too scared to say it out loud, fine.¡± I kept my voice as calm as possible, even though I was so mad that I could¡¯ve spit fire. ¡°I¡¯m going back to my room. Don¡¯t bother coming to say goodbye tomorrow.¡± Tears filled my eyes and threatened to spill down my cheeks.

    I grabbed my clothes and ran from the woods, leaving Donavon alone by the lake. Donavon tried to mentally connect with me several times that evening, but I blocked his attempts.

    Very early the next morning, I heard a knock at my dorm door. I knew that it was Donavon the moment I heard the tapping.

    ¡°Go away,¡± I sent, still reeling from the night before.

    ¡°Tal, open the door,¡± Donavon¡¯s mental voice commanded.

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d really rather say what I have to say to your face.¡±

    ¡°Well, I¡¯m not letting you in, so you can say whatever you want from out there.¡± My irritation was obvious.

    ¡°Natalia, I love you. I¡¯ve loved you from the moment I first saw you, when I was twelve. I¡¯m sorry that I was too scared to say it yesterday.¡± His voice was soft, but my hearing was acute enough that I could hear him through the door.

    I mentally pushed the door open. Donavon ran over and fell on his knees next to my bed. I threw my arms around his neck. He pulled me tight against his chest.

    ¡°I love you, Tal.¡±

    ¡°I know, Donavon.¡±

    Even though he¡¯d finally said those words, I was stubborn and still hurt from his earlier rejection. We both knew that it would be a long time before I said those three words to him again.

 Chapter Eighteen: The One with the Mind Readers Weakness

    Something crawled in my ear. I swatted at it. I felt it again, slithering down my neck this time. I reached to scratch the place where it had been. Stifled laughter filled my ears.

    ¡°Erik, you¡¯d better be out of my arms¡¯ reach when I open my eyes, or I¡¯ll make you sorry,¡± I grumbled, without opening my eyes.

    ¡°Won¡¯t be hard, your arms are pretty short,¡± Erik teased.

    I opened my eyes, rolled over to face him, and groaned at the dull ache in my side.

    ¡°Think you¡¯re funny?¡±

    ¡°Sure do.¡± He smirked.

    ¡°Did you meet a nice girl in the city?¡± I asked, changing the subject.

    Erik did his eyebrow wriggle. ¡°I met a girl who was nice to me.¡±

    I felt another stab. This one was something akin to jealousy, and I immediately hated myself.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry I asked.¡± I only hoped that he didn¡¯t know how sorry I actually was.

    ¡°Where¡¯s your boyfriend? I expected to find him here since we left you all alone last night.¡± Erik¡¯s tone changed to one of mild disgust.

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you like him?¡± I demanded, sitting up.

    ¡°It¡¯s not really so much that I don¡¯t like him,¡± Erik replied evasively, averting his gaze.

    ¡°Then what is it?¡± I was perplexed by the hostility between the two guys. It seemed deeply rooted, yet there was no underlying cause that I knew of.

    ¡°We¡¯re just not compatible, I guess,¡± Erik mumbled, looking uncomfortable.

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to date him. I just wish you¡¯d be civil to him.¡±

    ¡°For you Talia, I would do anything.¡± Erik bowed gallantly.

    ¡°So you¡¯ll be nice to him?¡± I pressed.

    ¡°You said civil. Nice is pushing it,¡± he warned.

    ¡°Civil,¡± I agreed. ¡°Thank you, Erik.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re welcome. Henri got held up in D.C. and he won¡¯t be back until tomorrow. So, it seems you have another day off,¡± Erik informed me.

    I got up, dressed, and made my way over to the medical building. The Medic removed my bandages and confirmed my stitches had dissolved. I was now left with two thin scars; one on my stomach and one on my back. The skin was tender and pinkish. I was amazed by how quickly the wound had healed. The Medic used a laser scanner, passing it over my skin multiple times until the scars were nonexistent. The skin was still discolored, but he assured me that, too would fade in a few hours. My internal damage would take a little longer to heal but cosmetically I was as good as new.

    Since I¡¯d been planning on returning to practice that morning, I had no idea what to do with myself now that it was canceled. After spending the night with Donavon, I felt better about the Erik situation. But I was still hesitant to return to my cabin. Just seeing Erik made me think and feel things I still didn¡¯t fully understand. So, yeah¡­ staying away from both my home and my teammate seemed best.

    Both Donavon and Penny were working, so I took the opportunity to have some much needed alone time. I strolled leisurely around the compound. For the first time in months, all of the thoughts in my head were my own. I hadn¡¯t realized how heavily everybody else¡¯s stresses were weighing me down until they were gone.

    Henri was overwhelmed by his position as team leader. He constantly worried that he was too young to be in such a high position. He worried I wouldn¡¯t perform in the way he had hoped when he¡¯d first requested me as part of the team. He worried that I¡¯d get hurt and Mac would blame him.

    Erik maintained a carefree attitude on the surface. He was indifferent to The Agency and the war with The Coalition. If it were up to him, he wouldn¡¯t have ever gone to the McDonough School. Unfortunately, like every other Talented child born in the United States, that hadn¡¯t been an option. But for a person who pretended to be so self-absorbed, Erik had a lot of other concerns swirling around inside his head. He worried that he would disappoint Henri by not taking his responsibilities seriously enough. Erik was growing tired of his party-boy lifestyle, yet he worried that going out regularly was all that kept him sane. The constant training and missions were draining, both mentally and physically. But most of all, Erik worried about me; a fact that I hadn¡¯t truly appreciated until the constant coil of tension inside of my stomach was no longer present.

    Maybe my feelings for Erik are only a reflection of his feelings for me, I mused. I hoped so. After all, my mind and Erik¡¯s seemed to have a strong connection, even stronger in some ways than my connection with Donavon. I could project my thoughts, my feelings, and my will onto anyone, but Erik was the first person who¡¯d turned the tables on me.

    I wandered in the woods, relishing the blissful emptiness in my head. I sat by the lake and skipped stones over the water¡¯s surface. I rested in the dirt, not caring about my clothes and let the sun warm my face. I closed my eyes and the back of my eyelids lit up, bright reddish-orange from the sun¡¯s rays. It reminded me of Penny¡¯s hair. I was so glad I had a girlfriend to talk to about my boy problems. As the thought crossed my mind, I smiled wider¡ªI had boy problems. How very normal of me.

    I¡¯d felt different my whole life, mostly because I was different. Going to the McDonough School and meeting other kids like me had made me begin to feel better. Yet, I still felt different because I never bonded with the other students. But now, for the first time, I had a boyfriend, a crush, and a best friend to talk to about both of them. I couldn¡¯t remember a time when I¡¯d felt more ¡°normal¡±.

    After my quiet afternoon at the lake, I still wasn¡¯t ready to return to my cabin. Instead, I lounged in the grass outside the Crypto Bank, waiting for Penny to finish work for the day.

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    ¡°Do you have dinner plans?¡± I asked when Penny finally emerged.

    ¡°Would you mind going back to my room to eat? The kitchen is making sweet potato ravioli. It¡¯s my absolute favorite.¡±

    I smiled. ¡°Sounds perfect.¡±

    I trailed Penny up to her room and then made myself comfortable on her bed while she ordered dinner. I aimlessly flipped through the movies on her wall screen without actually reading any of the descriptions.

    ¡°What¡¯s on your mind?¡± Penny asked after I failed to answer a question she¡¯d posed three times.

    ¡°It¡¯s nothing, I¡¯m still just a little out of it from the last couple of days.¡±

    ¡°Erik?¡± Penny guessed.

    ¡°What? Why would Erik have anything to do with¡­ anything?¡± I retorted defensively.

    ¡°I¡¯ve seen you two around each other, Tal. It¡¯s obvious he likes you.¡± Penny said, rolling her eyes. ¡°And everyone talks about how Erik has changed since you got here.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not like that. He just sees me as a younger sister or something,¡± I mumbled, even though I knew that wasn¡¯t entirely true. I remembered the conversation I¡¯d heard between Erik and Henri while they thought I was still asleep. ¡°Besides, I have a boyfriend¡­ Donavon,¡± I added hastily.

    Penny looked doubtful. ¡°How do you feel about him?¡± she asked softly.

    I knew that she was talking about Erik.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I answered honestly. ¡°Sometimes I think maybe I have a little crush on him.¡± My cheeks burned with embarrassment. I quickly looked down at my hands but it was too late to take it back.

    ¡°A little crush?¡± Penny snorted.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I¡¯ve never really felt like this about anybody. I spend so much time in his head. It¡¯s confusing. You don¡¯t understand,¡± I added lamely.

    ¡°You spend just as much time in Henri¡¯s head as you do in Erik¡¯s,¡± she reasoned. ¡°Why is Erik different?¡±

    I gave her a long, searching look. ¡°Henri has a boyfriend, so that¡¯s not an issue.¡±

    Penny laughed. ¡°Well that does explain the difference. What about me? Do you go in my head?¡±

    Her question took me by surprise.

    ¡°No, no, of course not,¡± I stammered.

    ¡°I understand if you do,¡± she said quickly. ¡°I mean it¡¯s your talent and it¡¯s really cool. I just, you know, was wondering.¡± It was Penny¡¯s turn to blush.

    ¡°I¡¯d never go in your head, Penny,¡± I assured her. ¡°You¡¯re my friend and I know it¡¯s a huge violation of someone¡¯s privacy to do that.¡±

    She smiled. ¡°Thanks.¡±

    ¡°I think that¡¯s why most people are afraid to be close to me. They¡¯re scared I¡¯ll read their thoughts, learn their secrets,¡± I continued.

    ¡°Do you read most people¡¯s minds?¡±

    ¡°Not if I can help it. Unfortunately, some people are really strong projectors, and I end up hearing their thoughts without meaning to,¡± I explained. ¡°It¡¯s risky for me, too. When I read someone¡¯s mind, I have to open up my own. In the process, they have an open window into my head. They can see my thoughts and feel my feelings. It makes me completely vulnerable.¡±

    Just then, room service knocked on Penny¡¯s door to deliver our dinner. Over ravioli, the conversation turned lighter. We talked about Penny¡¯s boy problem¡ªher crush of the week: Randell. The evening ended up being exactly what I needed to relax.

    When I finally hurried through my cabin door, just before curfew, Henri was the only one there.

    He greeted me with a toothy grin. ¡°Hey, how¡¯re you feeling?¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± I answered truthfully. ¡°I¡¯ll be ready to practice tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll take it easy on you.¡± Henri winked at me.

    I smiled and made my way to the bathroom to perform my nightly bedtime ritual of washing my face and brushing my teeth. I took my time and when I emerged, Henri¡¯s light was out and Erik¡¯s bed was still empty. Even though I¡¯d stayed at Penny¡¯s all night to avoid seeing him, I was still disappointed Erik wasn¡¯t back.

    After getting into my bed, I opened my mind and found Donavon awake in his cabin.

    ¡°Hey, I¡¯m sure you¡¯re busy getting ready for tomorrow. I just wanted to say goodnight,¡± I sent to him.

    ¡°Are you coming to see me off? We¡¯re leaving just before sunrise.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be there.¡±

    ¡°Good. Night, Tal.¡±

    Sleep didn¡¯t come until after I heard the cabin door open and the squeak of the springs in Erik¡¯s mattress compressing under his weight.

    I was up, dressed, and waiting outside Donavon¡¯s cabin the next morning when he emerged with Arden and Harris. I couldn¡¯t help but grin when I saw him. He gave me a small smile in return. Taking my hand as we walked across the compound, Donavon gave it a little squeeze when we neared the hangar.

    I gave Arden and Harris quick hugs and wished them luck before they boarded the hover-vehicle, leaving Donavon and me to say our goodbyes.

    ¡°Be careful,¡± I pleaded.

    ¡°There¡¯s no reason to worry. I¡¯ve been on a ton of these and this is a quick one¡ªnothing serious.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll miss you.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll miss you, too, Tal. I love you, and I¡¯ll see you as soon as I get back.¡±

    I stretched up on my tiptoes and kissed him hard.

    ¡°Guess you really will miss me. Now I¡¯ll be sure to hurry home, maybe even tonight,¡± Donavon joked, matching the intensity of my kiss.

    When we broke apart, Donavon jogged up the steps of the hover-plane to join his teammates. At the landing deck, he turned and gave a quick wave before disappearing onto the plane. I remained in the hangar, watching the plane until it was little more than a speck on the horizon.

    Whenever Donavon went on a mission, I worried about him. But this was the first time I¡¯d actually been at Headquarters to see him off. Now that I¡¯d been on a hunt myself, I understood the risks and appreciated the potential dangers he faced. The thought that, should something go wrong, I might never see him again made it feel as though the knife was still jabbed in my side.

    Since I was awake, I decided to swing by Medical for one last checkup. Dr. Daid was on duty and seemed pleased to see me. Unlike the previous day, his expression didn¡¯t become dour when he spoke about me returning to practice. In fact, the doctor was impressed with my body¡¯s ability to heal so quickly.

    ¡°A little exercise will be good for you,¡± he proclaimed. ¡°Just don¡¯t overdo it.¡±

    The sun shone brightly when I left Medical, so I headed back to the cabin to meet the boys for practice. Henri and Erik were both up and getting ready when I walked in the door.

    ¡°Did your boyfriend get off okay?¡± Erik asked, trying to sound uninterested.

    ¡°Donavon got off just fine. How¡¯d you know that¡¯s where I went?¡±

    ¡°Harris said they were leaving on a mission this morning. You weren¡¯t here when I woke up, so I figured that you¡¯d gone to say goodbye,¡± Erik answered.

    ¡°Have you eaten?¡± Henri interrupted.

    ¡°Nope, I waited for you guys. But I did go to Medical. Dr. Daid said I¡¯m cleared to train.¡±

    ¡°Good to hear. Let¡¯s get to it.¡± Henri looked immensely relieved, and I wondered if the real reason he hadn¡¯t come rushing back from D.C. was because he hadn¡¯t been onboard with me returning to practice quite so soon either. ¡°Captain Alvarez left me a message this morning,¡± he continued. ¡°He has a couple of upcoming missions already scheduled for us.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± I was shocked. I¡¯d figured my abysmal performance would put me on the sidelines for a while.

    ¡°Yeah. Despite the whole getting hurt thing¡ªwhich, by the way, is always a risk and does not mean that you¡¯re a bad Hunter¡ªyou did really well. Everyone was impressed,¡± Henri praised me. I knew that he didn¡¯t actually mean ¡°everyone¡±; Mac clearly wasn¡¯t impressed.

    ¡°Wow, thanks.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t let it go to your head,¡± Erik teased.

    I shot him a death look, and he had the good grace to feign fright.

    The first day back at practice was surprisingly easy. Once we started moving, my tight muscles stretched and loosened. My side was sore, but it felt much better than I¡¯d anticipated. We worked steadily the entire day, and I felt a sense of fulfillment when we finished for the afternoon.

    Unsurprisingly, Donavon¡¯s mission was not so quick that he returned that evening. In fact, it wasn¡¯t quick at all. Days passed without word from him. I became increasingly more anxious, calling Mac¡¯s Communicator morning, noon, and night. The Director assured me everything was okay and that I would be the first to know if something went wrong. Every night, lying in my bed, I opened my mind and tried to reach out to Donavon. I knew he was too far away; never once did I receive so much as a buzz in response.

 Chapter Nineteen: The One with a Spontaneous Admission

    in Donavon¡¯s absence, I trained harder and longer than I had before the mission in Mexico City. At night, I spent time doing girly things with Penny: painting our nails, dying Penny¡¯s roots, watching movies on her wall screen¡ªand avoiding Erik. On my first day off since Donavon had been away, I received permission to go to Washington for the day; thank you, Henri. Just like the last time, I was required to return before dark. I knew Mac was already playing favorites by letting me go, but I decided to see just how far his fatherly feelings for me went. I begged him to let Penny go, too. To my surprise, he grudgingly agreed.

    Seeing the city with Penny was an entirely different experience. Penny was from D.C. originally and knew of all the best places to shop. We spent over an hour in a store that sold every shade of nail polish ever made. Penny carefully picked out only colors that would clash horribly with either her bright hair or her too-green eyes. Next, she dragged me through aisle after aisle of a huge makeup and perfume store, stopping every so often to test a color of eye shadow or lipstick on the back of my hand. She loaded my basket with shades that ¡°brought out the color in my eyes¡± or ¡°matched my skin tone¡±. Even though cosmetics weren¡¯t my thing, it was fun.

    After makeup, we moved on to hair. I drew the line at dying my hair but agreed to let the stylist braid purplish-blue locks in with my own brown curls to ¡°accentuate my eyes¡±, as she put it. I even let Penny talk me into buying two hair accessories; one was made of beautiful black and green feathers that fastened to the side of my head, and the other a tight web of large, shiny pearls and crystals that bounced the colors of the rainbow on the walls when I twirled. I had no idea where I would wear either of them, but I got caught up in the moment and knew that Gretchen would love to have outfits made to match both.

    Henri had only agreed to let us go shopping by ourselves if we promised to meet him at his favorite restaurant in plenty of time to make it back before dark. When we walked in, the tidal wave of blue d¨¦cor overwhelmed me. The booths were dark blue leather, the tables and chairs were powdery-blue plastic, and the floor was royal blue linoleum. Even the walls were painted pale blue and decorated with blue-toned pictures.

    A short man with frizzy blue hair and big, blue eyes framed by long blue eyelashes greeted us at the door. He wore a pair of blue and silver stripped overalls with a silver shirt underneath. He didn¡¯t speak so much as grunt for us to follow him. He led us to a booth in the back where Henri was sitting and chatting with the most beautiful man I¡¯d ever seen. Fine, pale blonde hair was swept across his forehead and fell just above his perfectly-shaped eyebrows. He had big, light brown eyes that shone with amusement as he conversed with Henri. His skin was fair and flawless over his delicate features. But even more than his appearance, there was something about the man that appealed to me; I just couldn¡¯t put my finger on what that something was.

    ¡°Hello,¡± Henri greeted us.

    ¡°Hi,¡± Penny and I said in unison.

    ¡°You must be Frederick,¡± I said warmly, extending my hand to the beautiful man.

    ¡°It¡¯s a pleasure to meet you, Natalia,¡± Frederick replied, smiling warmly and shaking my hand. ¡°And you must be Penny?¡± He turned towards Penny and offered her his hand.

    She shook it enthusiastically. ¡°Yes, I am.¡±

    Penny and I climbed into the booth and picked up the blue menus before I noticed a fifth place setting. My stomach gave a small flutter¡ªI knew who the place setting was for.

    ¡°Sorry I¡¯m late,¡± Erik apologized, hurrying up to the table and confirming my suspicion.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Tal and Penny just arrived.¡± Henri dismissed his apology.

    Erik slid into the booth, squishing me between him and Penny. His leg brushed against mine. Even through my pants, I felt a slight jolt, my stomach doing a little flip-flop. I blushed and fumbled with my menu as both embarrassment and guilt washed over me.

    After the initial awkwardness that I felt when Erik had arrived, dinner turned out to be a lot of fun. Henri ordered a bottle of Berry Blue Wine for us to share, but I restricted myself to two glasses; I didn¡¯t want a repeat of the campfire night. The wine eased my tension and I relaxed. Unsurprisingly, the food was all blue. When I looked in the mirror in the blue bathroom, I noticed that my tongue and lips were tinted blue, too.

    Frederick kept up friendly conversation throughout the entire meal. He told us funny stories about work¡ªhe taught at the city school¡ªand the people and students that he worked with. He told us about all of the places that we had to visit in the city, which I assumed was for my benefit. Apparently, the Blueberry wasn¡¯t the only color-themed restaurant in the city¡ªevery color in the rainbow, and some in between, had one. Frederick also told us about a bar made entirely of ice. The booths, stools, cups, plates, and even the toilets were supposedly sculpted from enormous blocks of ice. The patrons had to wear special clothing so that they didn¡¯t get frostbite. Similarly, there was a bar called The Grass Is Always Greener that was decorated to look like a grassy meadow. Grass and flowers grew out of the dirt floor, and the ceiling was painted to look like the sky at midday. I was not sure if it was the wine or Frederick¡¯s infectious good mood, but by the time he finished describing the places I was dying to go to each one.

    Much too soon, Henri announced that he needed to return Penny and me back to headquarters.

    ¡°You stay. I¡¯ll take them back,¡± Erik piped up.

    ¡°Really? Are you sure?¡± Henri asked, raising his eyebrows.

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    ¡°Yeah, I was thinking that I¡¯d head back to the cabin anyway. I don¡¯t mind taking them.¡±

    ¡°Thanks, Erik.¡± Then turning to Penny and me, Henri added, ¡°I¡¯ll see you ladies tomorrow.¡±

    We finished saying our goodbyes. Penny and I followed Erik while Henri and Frederick set off in the opposite direction.

    The wine had gone to my head, but I wasn¡¯t drunk as much as giddy. As a result, on the way home Penny and I recounted every minute of our shopping day in full detail. Erik was a good sport, even asking questions to encourage our chatter. We landed back at Headquarters just after sunset. Penny and I agreed to spend the night playing with our new purchases.

    ¡°Tals, can we take a walk?¡± Erik asked quietly as I made to get out of the vehicle.

    ¡°I¡¯ll take our things up to my room, just come up when you¡¯re ready,¡± Penny offered.

    I smiled nervously. ¡°Thanks Penny, see you soon.¡±

    ¡°You bet. Thanks for the ride, Erik.¡±

    I watched Penny walk off towards her building, both arms loaded down with our purchases. I fidgeted uncomfortably, waiting for Erik to say something.

    ¡°So, you wanted to take a walk?¡± I asked awkwardly, shifting my weight from one foot to the other.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go down to the lake,¡± he suggested.

    Silently, I followed Erik through the densely packed trees that lined the path down to the lake. I would have opened my mind and tried to read Erik¡¯s thoughts but the alcohol was making it hard for me to concentrate. Well, I was trying to blame the alcohol for my concentration problems. I also thought that Erik might be intentionally blocking me.

    When we reached the lake, Erik sat on a large log. I hesitated before tentatively sitting down, careful not to touch him. We sat for several minutes in uncomfortable silence.

    ¡°Why are you avoiding me, Tals?¡± he asked bluntly.

    ¡°I¡¯m not avoiding you. I see you all day, every day,¡± I countered.

    ¡°Yes, but at night, you keep running off to be with Penny.¡±

    ¡°This is the first time I¡¯ve ever had a girlfriend, Erik. I¡¯m making up for lost time,¡± I reasoned.

    ¡°Making up for lost time?¡± Erik gave me a short laugh. I shrugged. ¡°We should talk about what happened in Mexico City,¡± Erik continued.

    ¡°There is nothing to talk about. I messed up. I got hurt. End of story.¡±

    ¡°First of all, you didn¡¯t mess up. These things happen. All of us have been injured on a hunt. On one of my missions, when I was still a pledge, I broke my leg jumping from a roof that was higher than I thought. Henri had to carry me home.¡± Erik paused and gave me a pointed look. ¡°But we both know that¡¯s not what I¡¯m talking about.¡±

    I could feel Erik¡¯s eyes boring into me, but I refused to turn and look at him.

    ¡°Erik,¡± I started quietly, ¡°you¡¯re right, I have been avoiding you. Since getting back, I have just been confused about things,¡± I said honestly¡ªtoo honestly. Talking about my feelings didn¡¯t come naturally to me. The fact that I was doing it now was unusual. Maybe I was drunk.

    ¡°Confused about what things, exactly?¡± Erik¡¯s voice was low and there was a hint of something I couldn¡¯t comprehend.

    ¡°Just things,¡± I answered, my voice going up an octave. ¡°Like you and Donavon.¡± I blurted out. Crap. I should not have said that. Note to self: no more alcohol, even in small amounts. I started to stand, but Erik grabbed my wrist and pulled me back down.

    ¡°Let me go, Erik,¡± I pleaded in a low voice.

    ¡°No, Tals. I want to talk about this.¡±

    ¡°Erik, either let me go on your own, or I will force you to,¡± I threatened him in a voice just above a whisper.

    Physically, Erik was much stronger, but my mental abilities always seemed to improve when my emotions ran out of control. Tonight, they were like a speeding train without brakes. I knew that my mental talents would trump his physical ones and if he didn¡¯t remove his hand, he would be sorry. He must¡¯ve known it, too.

    Erik released my wrist. I took off into the woods, leaving him sitting alone. I sped through the trees and into Hunters Village. I stopped in my tracks when I noticed the lights on in Donavon¡¯s cabin.

    ¡°Donavon?¡± I called.

    ¡°Hey! I just went by your cabin, but you weren¡¯t there.¡± He threw open his cabin door and ran out to meet me. I jogged towards him and leapt up into his arms. As soon as his arms were around my waist, I felt the familiar, safe feeling that being with him always invoked.

    ¡°Sorry, your dad gave Penny and me permission to go into the city for the day, and we just got back.¡±

    ¡°No worries, Tal. You¡¯re here now.¡±

    ¡°I missed you so much, Donavon.¡± I found his lips and kissed him softly. When I pulled back, I saw Erik coming out of the woods. He stopped abruptly when he saw Donavon and me entangled in each other¡¯s arms. I was torn¡ªpart of me wanted to stay in Donavon¡¯s embrace, the other part wanted to run to Erik. I suppressed the latter urge.

    ¡°Wanna come in and hang out for a while?¡± Donavon asked.

    ¡°Of course, let me just send Penny a Comm and tell her I¡¯m not coming over.¡±

    ¡°Oh, if you have plans with Penny, then go ahead over there. I¡¯m really tired anyway. We¡¯ll spend the day together tomorrow,¡± he promised.

    ¡°Tomorrow,¡± I agreed, relieved. Truthfully, I didn¡¯t want to be with Donavon right then, not when my wrist was still burning from Erik¡¯s touch.

    Once in Penny¡¯s room, I dutifully played with my new purchases. I painted my nails with purple polish and sat still while Penny experimented on me with different shades of eye shadow. Penny was her bubbly self, and I felt guilty that my heart wasn¡¯t in it. I kept thinking about Erik and what might¡¯ve happened if I hadn¡¯t left when I did.

    I got back to my cabin after Erik was asleep, leaving again in the morning before he was awake. I knew that I would have to face him eventually, but I was happy to prolong the inevitable.

    I spent the day with Donavon. We played in the lake with Harris and Penny and some of Donavon¡¯s other friends, including Laris. My thoughts never strayed to Erik and his beautiful eyes, his generous mouth, or his shirtless torso. Okay, maybe once they did¡ªor twice.

    ¡°I hate that this day has to end,¡± Donavon moaned as we lay side-by-side on a blanket next to the water.

    ¡°We don¡¯t need to go anywhere for a while,¡± I replied, rolling over on my side to face him.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got to shower and get ready.¡±

    ¡°Get ready for what?¡± I demanded.

    ¡°I promised that I would go into D.C. with Harris and Arden.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re mad,¡± he observed.

    ¡°I just figured that you¡¯d be spending the night with me since you just got back,¡± I argued.

    ¡°Would you rather I not go?¡± he offered, but I could tell that he didn¡¯t mean it.

    ¡°No, you go. It¡¯s fine,¡± I snapped. Why was I picking a fight with him?

    ¡°Tal, I¡¯m not going if it upsets you,¡± Donavon said, trying to pull me to him.

    ¡°No, go,¡± I relented. ¡°I¡¯m not mad, just disappointed.¡± I tried to reign in my irrational anger.

    ¡°I¡¯ll bring you back a good present,¡± he tempted.

    ¡°Are you trying to bribe me?¡± I scowled, letting him pull me down into his arms.

    ¡°Only if it¡¯s working.¡± He smiled and his whole face lit up.

    ¡°It¡¯s working.¡±

    In the end, I was relieved that Donavon was spending the night in the city with Harris and Arden. I felt guilty about being relieved, but I felt even worse about being with him when I couldn¡¯t get Erik out of my head.

 Chapter Twenty: The One with the Mimic V. Morpher Fight

    Erik and Henri were both gone when I got back to my cabin; a fact for which I was grateful. I showered, dressed, and curled into my bed with a book. Penny had invited me to hang out in her room with some other pledges, but I really wanted to be alone.

    I must have fallen asleep while reading because I awoke with a start when the door to the cabin flew open and slammed against the wall. I shot up in my bed as Erik stormed through, Henri hot on his heels. Something was wrong¡ªErik was holding a bloody cloth to the side of his face with one hand, and had a bag of ice in the other. Henri went straight for the medical kit in the bathroom as Erik threw himself on his bed.

    ¡°What happened?¡± I exclaimed, jumping off of my bed and running over to him.

    ¡°It¡¯s nothing, Tals. I just got in a little scuffle with an asshole at the bar.¡± He refused to meet my eyes, and I could tell by the tone of his voice that he was hiding something.

    I reached up, and pulled the hand holding the cloth away from his face. I gasped at the cut across his cheekbone. A bruise was already blossoming around the edges. I looked over the rest of him; his shirt was torn and I could see red patches across his chest and stomach. The knuckles of both his hands were bloody, and several nasty red scratches ran the length of his arms.

    ¡°Who did this?¡± I asked tightly.

    ¡°I told you, just some asshole at the bar,¡± Erik said, through clenched teeth.

    ¡°Look at me,¡± I demanded. He shook his head and refused to lift his eyes. I opened my mind and tried to reach into his.

    ¡°Stop!¡± he screamed, jumping back. ¡°Don¡¯t you dare, Natalia. I¡¯ve been through enough tonight. I don¡¯t need you playing around in my head, too.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I stammered, stumbling backward off of his bed, regretting overstepping my bounds.

    ¡°Tal, why don¡¯t you sit over there so I can clean Erik¡¯s cut,¡± Henri said quietly, gesturing to the chair in the corner of the room. I nodded and moved clumsily back out of the way.

    ¡°Erik,¡± I tried again. I couldn¡¯t help myself.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to talk to you right now,¡± he cut me off.

    ¡°Did I do something wrong? I don¡¯t understand.¡±

    ¡°Not everything is about you!¡± he shouted. His words stung, and I felt the prick of tears in the corners of my eyes.

    Out of habit, I did what I always do when I¡¯m upset; I opened my mind to find Donavon, and was shocked to learn he was in his cabin. I had no idea if it was after curfew, but I didn¡¯t care either. I grabbed my shoes and ran out of the door.

    ¡°Talia! No!¡± Erik yelled after me, but I ignored him.

    ¡°Let her go. She¡¯s going to find out soon enough,¡± I heard Henri say to him.

    I suddenly felt sick to my stomach. I hesitated at the door to Donavon¡¯s cabin. I had an awful feeling about what I would find behind that door. I raised my hand and rapped three knocks in fast succession. Harris opened the door a second later.

    ¡°Hey, Tal,¡± he said, a little too loudly.

    ¡°Hey Harris, is he in there?¡± I asked, even though I knew he was.

    ¡°Um¡­ yeah. He¡¯s here, but I¡¯m not really sure this is really a good time.¡± He filled the entire doorway, preventing me from seeing into the cabin.

    ¡°Let her in,¡± I heard Donavon¡¯s muffled voice from inside.

    Harris looked at me with pity and moved to one side. I walked over to Donavon. He was sitting with ice wrapped in a cloth pressed to his mouth, and his shirt was torn and bloody. One of his eyes had swelled almost completely shut, leaving only a slit of blue visible.

    ¡°Why?¡± I demanded.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to do this with you right now, Tal.¡± Donavon sounded tired.

    ¡°Why?¡± I repeated louder. Both Harris and Arden were there, watching and listening, but I didn¡¯t care what they thought about me.

    ¡°Erik was being a jerk and I said something. Then one thing led to another, and we got into a fight,¡± Donavon wouldn¡¯t meet my eyes. For the first time ever, Donavon was lying to me. What I didn¡¯t know was why. I could push my way into his head, but a part of me was afraid of what I might find.

    ¡°Fine, if that¡¯s all, then I¡¯m going back to bed.¡± I turned and walked to the door.

    ¡°Tal, wait!¡± I turned around and met his eyes. ¡°I love you.¡±

    The look in Donavon¡¯s eyes said he was scared. I didn¡¯t have to dig in to his mind to know what he was scared of¡ªhe was scared of losing me. A familiar surge of emotion washed over me. I felt awful for letting Erik affect me the way that he had. I felt ashamed about the way that I¡¯d been acting. Most of all, I felt guilty.

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    ¡°I know, Donavon. I love you, too,¡± I walked back over to him and gently kissed him on the cheek.

    When I left, I didn¡¯t go back to my cabin. I couldn¡¯t face Erik. What had I done? What had I started? Erik had never liked Donavon, but now they were getting into physical altercations? If anyone in charge found out about this, they would both be in huge trouble, and it would all be my fault. When had I become the kind of girl who played boys against each other? Let boys fight over her?

    It was cold outside, and I wasn¡¯t really dressed appropriately for the rapidly decreasing temperature. I hugged myself and tried to will the cold away. I sat on one of the wooden benches that surrounded a fire pit in the center of Hunters Village, and counted the stars in the night sky. I don¡¯t know how long I sat there, but I had lost count of the stars several times before I heard footsteps behind me.

    I knew it was Erik before he spoke. ¡°Tals?¡± he hesitated, several feet from the bench.

    ¡°Hi, Erik,¡± I replied, without turning around.

    ¡°Can I sit with you?¡± He sounded nervous.

    ¡°Are you sure you want to?¡± I mumbled.

    The bench sagged slightly under his weight as he sat down, careful not to touch me. ¡°It¡¯s cold out here. Why don¡¯t you come back to the cabin?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Erik,¡± my voice was barely audible.

    ¡°Sorry? For what? It¡¯s not your fault your boyfriend sucks.¡±

    ¡°Sorry that you got in a fight because of me.¡± I tried to keep my voice from trembling.

    ¡°Do you love him, Tals?¡± Erik caught me by surprise¡ªI hadn¡¯t expected him to be so bold.

    ¡°Of course, I do,¡± I snapped, but I didn¡¯t even believe my own words. ¡°I do love him,¡± I repeated, this time with more conviction and more for my benefit than Erik¡¯s.

    Erik hesitantly reached for my hand When I didn¡¯t pull away, he grasped it firmly in his own. ¡°I just don¡¯t want to see you get hurt.¡±

    ¡°Donavon would never hurt me,¡± I said evenly. I was the one hurting him. Did Erik not see that? I met his eyes.

    ¡°You sure about that?¡± Erik asked. I looked at his bruised face and wanted more than anything to comfort him. I raised my hand slowly toward his cheek, but let it drop before my fingertips could brush his skin.

    ¡°Positive,¡± I answered.

    Erik nodded sadly and got to his feet, pulling me with him, ¡°Let¡¯s get you to bed.¡±

    I let Erik lead me back to our cabin. I curled up in my bed. Even with all of my blankets, I couldn¡¯t shake off the numbness that had taken over my body.

    The next few days were awkward at best. Everyone wanted to talk about the fight between Donavon and Erik. Nobody knew they¡¯d been fighting about me since the only other person from The Agency there had been Arden. Henri had been with Frederick until Erik messaged him, needing a ride back to Headquarters, and Harris never left the cabin.

    Penny pressed me for details, but I couldn¡¯t tell her what I didn¡¯t know. Besides knowing that they got in a fight about me, I didn¡¯t know how it had started or ended. I saw the aftermath, and that was plenty; I didn¡¯t really want to know more. I wanted it all to go away.

    Captain Alvarez called both boys into his office. Since neither would admit who¡¯d started the fight, Captain Alvarez was hesitant to hand out unequal reprimands. Thankfully, they were only issued stern warnings. If Erik had gotten into a fight with any other operative, the penalty would¡¯ve been stiffer; no one wanted to risk angering Mac by punishing his son.

    Our training sessions became longer, more intense. Erik was friendly enough; he didn¡¯t go out of his way to avoid me, but he rarely joked around and seemed distant most days. Every chance he got, he went into the city and stayed until well after curfew if he came home at all. Henri insisted I just needed to give him time. I wanted to believe him, but I was afraid my silly crush on him had ruined everything.

    ¡°Maybe you should have me transferred,¡± I suggested to Henri at dinner one night after Erik had gone to D.C. for the third night in a row.

    ¡°No,¡± he answered firmly. ¡°For months, we have worked to get where we are, and I¡¯m not throwing that away. Erik just needs some time.¡±

    ¡°I messed up, though, didn¡¯t I?¡±

    ¡°No, you didn¡¯t do anything wrong,¡± Henri said, emphatically. ¡°Honestly, the reason he¡¯s staying away is not what you think. Erik just does this sometimes.¡± He was lying to make me feel better, but I nodded as if I understood what he meant, anyway.

    Donavon was a different story. He clung to me like a drowning man to a life raft. He would wait for me when I was done with practice, and he insisted I eat dinner with him almost every night. After we¡¯d eat, he would refuse to let me out of his sight until he deposited me at my door, minutes before curfew. Instead of going into the city on his nights off, Donavon chose to stay at Headquarters with me and Penny. When we were alone, he was careful not to get too physical, saying he knew that I would let him know when I was ready.

    Soon, Donavon was at my side every minute that I wasn¡¯t training. When we weren¡¯t physically together, he was sending me thoughts. I wanted to block him, but I knew that would upset him too much. I longed for the blissful days when Henri¡¯s worries bogged down my mind. Now, I couldn¡¯t even make space in my head for Henri¡¯s thoughts because Donavon¡¯s constant mental ramblings left no room. Training was my only reprieve from his relentless intrusions. I felt justified in blocking him in order to concentrate on my mental connection with Erik and Henri.

    Honestly, it was all becoming too much, and I started to feel smothered. So, when Henri announced at breakfast one morning that we had been given two back-to-back hunts that would keep us away for at least two weeks, possibly longer, I was relieved.

    Space from Donavon was not the only reason that I wanted to get away from Headquarters. I was eager to correct the mistakes that I¡¯d made in Mexico. I was desperate to prove that I belonged here; that I had what it took to be a Hunter. No matter how many times Henri told me that Hunters get hurt all the time, and that I hadn¡¯t messed up, I couldn¡¯t really believe him. I knew that the hard part had been getting accepted to pledge the Hunters, but if I didn¡¯t prove my worth in the field, I still might not graduate.

    We flew out before sunrise the next morning. I¡¯d said goodbye to Donavon the night before because I didn¡¯t want him coming to the hangar with Erik there. A bleary-eyed, bushy-haired Penny did show up at the hangar to say goodbye and wish us luck, and I was grateful for her presence.

    I had mixed feelings about leaving Donavon. I was, of course, relieved to be away from him for a couple of days, but I was also uneasy about spending so much time alone with Erik without the constant reminder of my boyfriend. I was nervous that the confusing¡ªand consuming¡ªfeelings for Erik would return. No wonder that Donavon was scared to leave me alone; if I couldn¡¯t trust myself to keep my distance from Erik, how could he?

 Chapter Twenty-One: The One with Too Much Rage

    The first of the two missions was an abandoned warehouse in a Coalition town just over the border. The town belonged to The Coalition, but The Agency had a number of loyal followers there. TOXIC had become aware of the warehouse when it was still occupied by Coalition forces, but it was deemed an unnecessary risk to check out¡ªor so that was what our intel said. Our mission was to search the warehouse for any sign of what was once manufactured there. The Agency believed it was just physical weapons¡ªguns, swords, knives¡ªbut we needed to be sure they hadn¡¯t been making biological or chemical weapons, as well. Even though this mission was technically on enemy territory, it was considered extremely low-risk since it was doubtful that we¡¯d come in contact with any members of The Coalition.

    The atmosphere on the flight was far less tense than the ride to Mexico City for our first mission had been. Still, I could barely sit in my seat, but it was more out of anticipation than nerves. Erik and Henri talked and joked for most of the trip, and Erik even went out of his way to include me in the conversation. Finally, things were starting to get back to normal between us.

    Once we landed, we walked the short distance to another dilapidated-looking barn, where Henri chose a vehicle to drive into the town. We didn¡¯t wear our adapti-suits but rather regular clothes, although we all had weapons concealed underneath.

    Instead of going to an abandoned safe house, we drove straight into town and parked behind a small, well-maintained house. There was nothing remarkable about the building; nondescript was the best word for it. This safe house had no command center like the previous one, but thankfully, it did have a fully-stocked kitchen and two small bedrooms. I took one of the rooms and the boys shared the other.

    Henri explained that we would scope out the area surrounding the warehouse after nightfall to ensure that it was, indeed, abandoned. As long as all of our intel was correct, we¡¯d be able to go in the next night, gather the necessary information, and be on our way. This sort of fact-finding mission was the norm for Hunters. TOXIC knew that The Coalition was becoming stronger by the day, recruiting followers to aid in the battle against the Talented and those who supported us; what we didn¡¯t know was how much progress they were actually making.

    Intel, gathered daily, informed us that they were developing technology to rival ours. It was important for us to learn exactly how far they¡¯d come in reaching that goal, but the locations of their research and development plants were hard to accurately locate. I assumed that they¡¯d developed at least some form of masking technology, similar to ours, to scramble satellites so that we couldn¡¯t pinpoint their whereabouts.

    These fact-finding hunts ranged in difficulty and our mission ranked pretty low on that scale. Privately, I assumed that it was because of my performance on the last one, and that we¡¯d been relegated to mediocre assignments. However, I actually didn¡¯t mind. Easy assignments would give me the opportunity to redeem myself, receive high enough marks to graduate, and become a full-fledged Hunter¡ªthe only thing that truly mattered.

    We were off in full hunting gear as soon as the sun had set. We spent the night watching the warehouse, and blessedly, saw nothing worth noting. We returned to the safe house just before sunrise, and I was happy to sleep the day away.

    At nightfall on the second night, we once again set off in our hunting gear. We watched the warehouse for another few hours and, not seeing anything suspicious, made our move.

    I opened myself up to both the boys¡¯ minds, absorbing their thoughts and feelings. Their excitement and the thrill of the hunt filled me, causing adrenaline to surge through my veins. I felt invincible. I was ready for whatever came.

    Once inside, we quickly assembled our equipment and combed the warehouse. I used a chemical detector to sweep the area, while Erik and Henri looked for evidence of the types of physical weapons made there. I found a trace amount of a chemical associated with the manufacturing of ammunition. I immediately uploaded my findings, sending them back to Headquarters. Erik and Henri found spare parts for several different models of rifles, but nothing impressive¡ªnothing like the artillery The Agency manufactured. Henri finished the mission by taking images of every inch of the warehouse. We were back at the safe house well before the sun started peeking above the horizon.

    We weren¡¯t scheduled to leave until after dinnertime, so I went to lie down, but found it impossible to sleep. The mission had proved ridiculously easy and I was on a success high.

    Erik¡¯s easygoing attitude from the plane was gone. He was standoffish toward me and careful to keep his mind guarded when it wasn¡¯t necessary for mental communication. When our minds were connected, I couldn¡¯t help myself; I risked gently probing into his psyche. But he¡¯d known that I would try, and all of my attempts were met with resistance.

    Our third mission was much deeper into Coalition territory¡ªthe southernmost tip of California. Our only objective was to confirm that a man, believed to be a high-ranking member of The Coalition, had a residence in San Lucas, California. The most time-consuming part was actually traveling there; we weren¡¯t able to take any hover-vehicles because the skyways in that area were highly restricted. We had to travel a great deal of the way by road-vehicle, and an even greater distance on foot¡ªor hoof, as it turned out. I took it as a good sign that Erik didn¡¯t insist that I ride on Henri instead of him.

    The mission went off without a hitch. We were in and out in less time than anticipated, and Henri contacted Headquarters so they could send a hover-plane to meet us early. The rendezvous was close to the safe house we¡¯d stayed in for the previous mission. We retraced our trek from the previous day without incident.

    I was riding the crest of a victory wave when we landed back at Headquarters. The time apart¡ªand, if I was honest, Erik¡¯s coldness toward me¡ªhad made me long for Donavon and his comforting presence; I couldn¡¯t wait to see him. I opened my mind long enough to confirm that he was in his cabin, but didn¡¯t call out to him. I wanted to surprise him with my early return. I jogged the whole way back to Hunters Village with a big grin on my face.

    My hand was already turning the knob to Donavon¡¯s door when I realized something was off; a sick feeling filled the pit of my stomach. I sensed that there was something inside his cabin that I wasn¡¯t going to like. I pushed his door open using my mind. The interior of the cabin was dark, but it took only seconds for my eyes to adjust. For the first time in my life, I regretted my training.

    My eyes narrowed in on Donavon¡¯s bed, where long, blond hair spilled over the side. A girl¡¯s shocked voice let out a gasp as I let the door slam open. Donavon sat up so quickly, you¡¯d have thought someone set fire to his mattress. He jumped off of his bed, wrapping a blanket around his waist; he was otherwise naked. I was vaguely aware of the girl saying something, but I couldn¡¯t hear her over the ringing in my own ears.

    All of the air in the room vanished, making it hard for me to breathe. The wind began to pick up, blowing leaves and twigs through the open doorway behind me. I locked Donavon¡¯s eyes, so full of shame and fear, with my own and bore into his mind.

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    ¡°Tal, no, please don¡¯t,¡± he moaned softly.

    He started walking toward me, one hand extended in my direction, the other holding a fist full of blanket at his waist. I used my mind to hold him in place, rooting his feet to the floor and stopping his advance.

    I felt the cold raindrops coming through the open door, splashing my back. Donavon tried to shove me out of his head, but I pushed harder; he was no match for me. I found what I was searching for¡ªthe fight with Erik. I saw through Donavon¡¯s eyes as he kissed another girl, a girl who was not me. I saw as Erik walked over to him, demanding to know what was going on. I saw as Erik hit him in the mouth. I wanted to pull out of his mind; I couldn¡¯t stand to see this, but I was in too deep to extricate myself. I watched the fight play out. I felt something inside of me freeze and then shatter into a million pieces¡ªmy heart.

    Donavon was still fighting against my mental invasion. He started walking toward me again, and I used my mind to throw him back against the cabin wall. He landed with a thud. I heard the girl scream as Donavon moaned. He tried to get up, but I pinned him to the floor. One of his arms was hanging limply at his side. Blood trickled down his cheek as the light in his eyes slowly faded to unconsciousness. I caught movement in my peripheral vision as the blonde had begun to move. I didn¡¯t think twice before mentally throwing her back down on the mattress, holding her in place. She whimpered, but was powerless to do anything more.

    I refocused my attention on Donavon who was slowly regaining consciousness. I dove into his mind, and he started shrieking like a scared child. The blonde¡¯s whimpers grew louder as she watched Donavon writhing in pain on the floor. He grabbed his head with both hands. I wasn¡¯t sure if he thought that would help to keep me out, or to keep his thoughts in. I dug through Donavon¡¯s mind, searching frantically for every memory involving the girl. I pulled on and discarded his memories, like his mind was a dresser drawer and I was looking for a matching pair of socks. The deeper I went, unlocking memories and thoughts that he¡¯d worked so hard to keep from me, the more he struggled.

    Finally, I pulled out of Donavon¡¯s head. I couldn¡¯t handle it anymore. Feelings of betrayal and pain swirled inside of me, fighting to get out. Thunder boomed and electricity streaked across the night sky, matching my mood. A huge explosion reverberated through the cabin, blowing the windows inward and spraying the entire room with shards of glass. A sliver sliced open my cheek. My entire world went black.

    ***

    My head throbbed, feeling about eight times its normal size. I attempted to open my swollen eyes. Wincing, I tried to lift my cheek from the rough material that was scratching my skin. I failed at both. A large hand gently smoothed stray curls away from my face.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay. You¡¯re okay,¡± Erik¡¯s deep voice cooed. Pain radiated from my skull down through my entire body. I groaned, but finally managed to open my eyes. Scenes from Donavon¡¯s cabin invaded my mind. Erik¡¯s voice brought on another emotion, almost stronger than the pain¡ªhumiliation. Burying my face in my shaking hands, I withdrew from his touch. Erik was the second-to-last person that I wanted to see right now.

    Stupidly, I¡¯d assumed that Erik had fought Donavon over his feelings for me. How could I have been such an idiot? He hadn¡¯t actually been fighting him because of romantic feelings, but because Donavon was, in fact, an ass. Erik had been defending his partner. I was even more mortified by the fact that he¡¯d let me believe the fight was actually over me.

    The betrayal and embarrassment became too much. My body trembled uncontrollably with silent sobs. Erik wrapped his arms around me, and I didn¡¯t pull away. Instead, I clung to Erik¡¯s shirt as hot tears scorched my skin. He rocked me while I quivered, overwhelmed by hurt, humiliation, and exhaustion. The ache in my chest made it hard to breathe. I longed to retreat into the darkness from which I¡¯d just woken.

    ¡°Close your eyes,¡± Erik murmured into my hair. His voice was firm and authoritative. ¡°Sleep, Tals. Go to sleep,¡± he repeated softly. I obeyed, over the stinging protests of my eyeballs.

    Unfortunately, the blackness didn¡¯t come. Colorful dreams of Donavon laughing and kissing the faceless blonde played in my subconscious. Rage filled me as I recalled the images of me attacking Donavon, screaming and clawing at his shocked expression. I wanted to physically hurt him the way that he¡¯d hurt me. I continued to shriek while my fists pounded his chest. Cold water dripped from the crown of my head, down my face. Rough fingers encircled one of my wrists as I raised my hand to strike Donavon again. I struggled against my attacker.

    ¡°Get off of me,¡± I screeched hysterically. ¡°Get off me.¡±

    ¡°Talia,¡± a sharp voice hissed in my ear. ¡°Wake up.¡±

    I blinked rapidly, trying to adjust to my current surroundings. I was back in my cabin. Erik, not Donavon, was leaning over me, his hands pinning my wrists next to my head. I thrashed against his weight, but he refused to release me. Finally, my body stilled¡ªDonavon and the girl were just a nightmare. I struggled to sit up in bed. Erik¡¯s eyes were filled with alarm.

    I brushed at the water that was actually dripping down my face. My fingers brushed a small bandage on my cheek. The sound of exploding glass filled my ears, and a stinging sensation tingled the nerve endings under the bandage. The memories flooded my mind; it wasn¡¯t a nightmare. A damp cloth was leaking water onto my sheets, the wetness seeping into my thin pants. Erik tentatively released my wrists and picked up the offending rag. He slowly wiped my forehead.

    ¡°Hey,¡± he said, giving me an uneasy smile.

    ¡°Hey,¡± I muttered, not meeting his eyes; I couldn¡¯t stand to see the look of distress there again. We sat in uncomfortable silence for several long moments.

    ¡°Are you hungry?¡± Erik finally asked. ¡°I can get you something to eat.¡±

    ¡°No, I don¡¯t feel much like eating,¡± I mumbled.

    ¡°Can I get you anything?¡± He let his hand and the towel drop back to my mattress.

    ¡°No, thank you,¡± I said in a small voice. I hesitated. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me?¡± I finally demanded, regretting the words the second they were through my lips.

    Erik didn¡¯t answer immediately. He looked away, the wall next to my bed suddenly becoming so intriguing that he couldn¡¯t tear his gaze away.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t think that I was the right person to tell you,¡± he said carefully, measuring his words.

    ¡°You let me think that you got in a fight with him over me? You thought that was better?¡± I demanded, hysteria rising in my chest.

    ¡°At the time, I thought it was better. In retrospect, probably not the best move.¡±

    ¡°How long has it been going on?¡± I grabbed his shoulder, forcing him to meet my gaze.

    ¡°I honestly don¡¯t know.¡± He opened his mind to me, showing me that he was telling the truth.

    ¡°Had you heard things? Is that why you hated him so much?¡± I pressed, looking into his head, instead of at his face, for the answer.

    ¡°Well¡­ yes. I¡¯d¡­ heard things. But I¡¯ve never liked him, even at school.¡±

    I saw snippets of memories dance through his mind; a much-younger Erik and Donavon trading insults in the School¡¯s gymnasium; Donavon, his hand resting on the small of a blonde girl¡¯s back, ushering her through a crowded bar; Harris¡¯ gray-blue eyes pleading with Erik to mind his own business when he tried to follow them.

    ¡°I see.¡± So, everyone knew but me. Awesome. My humiliation deepened, squeezing my lungs like a vice.

    ¡°Tals, I¡¯m so sorry¡ªsorry this happened, sorry that you had to find out this way, sorry that I didn¡¯t tell you. Sorry that I lied to you.¡± The words tumbled from his mouth, tripping over each other to get out.

    ¡°Sorry that you let me be self-absorbed, and think it was all about me?¡± I prompted. Rage boiled, hot and unpleasant, in my stomach. I wanted to lash out at somebody, pummel something. The pillow next to me took the brunt of my fury.

    ¡°I did get in a fight with him because of you,¡± he snapped, anger clouding his features. ¡°I flipped out when I saw him with her. I wanted to kill him.¡± The intensity of his words unnerved me. In that moment, I honestly believed if Arden hadn¡¯t been there, Erik might¡¯ve killed Donavon.

    ¡°Right, but you let me believe that it was because you cared about me or something,¡± I spat back. Pity flashed through his turquoise eyes, fueling the flames of my ever-growing rage.

    A knock at the door cut me off before I could say something that I might have regretted later. I looked at him in alarm. Erik shot up to answer the door. I didn¡¯t open my mind because I was afraid that it might be Donavon. I might kill him if I saw him right now. It wasn¡¯t Donavon; it was worse... Mac.

 Chapter Twenty-Two: The One with Questionable Coping Mechanisms

    ¡°Director McDonough,¡± Erik greeted him in a tone just south of respect.

    ¡°Mr. Kelley,¡± Mac nodded, ignoring Erik¡¯s inflection.

    ¡°Hi, Mac,¡± I mumbled.

    ¡°Natalia,¡± he didn¡¯t sound happy. ¡°Mr. Kelley, could you excuse us for a moment?¡±

    Erik nodded, but waited until I gave him the okay before stepping through the open doorway. ¡°I¡¯ll be right outside, Tals.¡±

    Mac walked over and took the place on my bed that Erik had just vacated. He didn¡¯t say anything for several minutes. I shifted uncomfortably on my slightly soggy sheets.

    ¡°How much trouble am I in?¡± I asked when I couldn¡¯t stand the silence anymore. I figured, at the very least, there would be repercussions for the property damage, not to mention the fighting.

    ¡°No trouble. I already took care of it.¡± He wouldn¡¯t look in my direction. Relief washed over me; Mac¡¯s position as my de facto guardian did have its advantages.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± I replied quietly.

    ¡°You don¡¯t need to thank me. While I cannot condone your actions, I cannot say that I blame you either. Donavon and the girl were not harmed.¡± He added the last part almost as an afterthought.

    ¡°I wish I could say that¡¯s a good thing,¡± I blurted out. A hot flush crept up my neck and spread across my cheeks. I probably shouldn¡¯t have said that out loud.

    Mac actually laughed. ¡°I warned him not to make you mad.¡±

    That wasn¡¯t exactly the response I¡¯d expected. Mac knew that I had a temper, but I wasn¡¯t aware that he thought it warranted a warning. Worse, it was almost like he¡¯d expected something like this to happen. Should I be angry that Mac thought so little of my self-control? I guess, in light of my actions, he was assumptions were justified.

    Neither of us spoke for several agonizing minutes. Just when I thought that he might leave without another word, he spoke, his usual no-nonsense demeanor back in place.

    ¡°I have lined up several more missions for your team in the coming weeks. You¡¯ve done exceptionally well in your training, and I think you should take this opportunity to refocus. I know that, right now, this seems like the end of the world, but you are smart and I am sure when you take a step back you will realize this is for the best. We are still a nation at war, and there are more important things that need your attention.¡±

    To anyone else, Mac¡¯s words would have seemed harsh and uncaring, but I knew that he wasn¡¯t saying it to be cruel. Mac believed in TOXIC. He was right¡ªthere were more important things for me to worry about. His words shamed me; here I was concentrating on my love life when, in the grand scheme of life, it was inconsequential. Mac was also right about me feeling as if it were the end of the world. But Donavon¡¯s betrayal did feel like the end of the world, at least the end of mine. How was I going to keep going when Donavon had been the only reassuring presence in my life since my parents¡¯ deaths?

    When I finally summoned the ability to speak, I fought to keep my voice even. ¡°Thank you. You¡¯re right. I would really like to concentrate on work. I think it will help.¡± As I said the words, I knew that they were true.

    Of course, I desperately wanted to crawl under my comforter and never see the light of day again. However, I had a duty, and I would not further disgrace Mac by shirking my responsibility to The Agency. I couldn¡¯t even imagine what the people that Mac answered to thought about me attacking Donavon, but I am positive that it didn¡¯t reflect well on Mac. And there was no way I would lend any more credence to the commonly held belief that I didn¡¯t belong here.

    ¡°I have you scheduled to leave in a couple of days for a week-long mission. I¡¯ve made arrangements for the three of you to be moved to the apartments. Your personal belongings will be in your new rooms when you return.¡±

    What? Teams with pledges were never housed in the apartments.

    ¡°You don¡¯t need to do that,¡± I argued. ¡°I don¡¯t want special favors or anything.¡±

    Mac raised his eyebrows. ¡°You don¡¯t? I didn¡¯t even make provisions for Donavon to go to the city when he was a pledge, let alone one of his friends.¡±

    ¡°That was different,¡± I mumbled, embarrassed.

    ¡°I¡¯m not doing this just for you. I think that it would be best to put some distance between you and Donavon for a while, at least until you both calm down. If you are living in the apartments, you won¡¯t see each other. Both of you will concentrate better this way,¡± he reasoned. Mac is nothing if not practical. ¡°Your friend Penelope is housed in the west wing, is that correct?¡±

    I nodded.

    ¡°Good, you will be on the same floor, as will Mr. Reich and Mr. Kelley.¡± His thin lips smiled, but his gray brown eyes remained cool. ¡°I have to take care of some business now. I just wanted to be sure that you were okay.¡± He got up to leave. ¡°Oh, I have some packages for you from Gretchen. I will have them sent to your new room.¡±

    ¡°Thanks, Mac.¡±

    He nodded, then turned and walked out of the cabin.

    I sat alone for several minutes, contemplating Mac¡¯s words. The reality was that I¡¯d chosen this life; I¡¯d chosen to be a Hunter. The luxury to heal my broken heart in peace wasn¡¯t one that I¡¯d be afforded. Normal teenage girls, even Talented ones, would be allowed to mourn their loss. But I was not normal, I was a Hunter. Well, almost a Hunter, anyway. Hunters weren¡¯t supposed to let emotion cloud their judgment. Mac wouldn¡¯t be the only person I¡¯d be letting down if I didn¡¯t pull myself together.

    Erik appeared in the cabin doorway, followed by Penny, interrupting my mental pep talk.

    ¡°Hi, Tal,¡± her tone was unusually subdued.

    ¡°Hey, Penny.¡± For some reason, seeing her brought on a fresh wave of tears, and my earlier resolve vanished. She rushed over to me and threw her arms around me in a huge hug.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± she soothed. ¡°It¡¯s okay.¡±

    Thankfully, news spreads fast at Headquarters¡ªparticularly when you destroy an entire cabin¡ªso Penny already knew what happened. I don¡¯t think that I could¡¯ve managed the words to tell her myself. I heard the cabin door open and shut quietly, signaling Erik¡¯s departure. I was crying so hard that I started hiccupping. Eventually, my tear ducts ran dry, and I just shook with dry, retching sobs. Penny sat there, holding my head to her shoulder, and smoothed my tangled curls. She never said anything, but I didn¡¯t need her to¡ªjust knowing that she was there was enough.

    The days that followed passed in a blur. I slept, I trained, and I slept again. I only ate when Henri made me. Everything tasted like sand. I spent most of my free time with Penny, but the constant look of concern and pity in her eyes was almost too much to bear. I knew that if I read her mind, it would match the look in her eyes, so I refrained.

    Erik and Henri were no different. Both went out of their way to be nice. Henri made it a point to go easy on me during practices, treating me as if I were a china doll. At first, I was grateful¡ªI didn¡¯t have the energy or the desire to train¡ªbut it wasn¡¯t long before I began to feel pathetic. I¡¯d always hated showing weakness, and now I was sitting back and letting everybody treat me like a child. Instead of getting angry with them, I became angrier at myself. I was angry for having let Donavon take such a hold on my life that his absence nearly destroyed me. I was angry for letting myself be taken advantage of and angry for letting everyone coddle me. I¡¯d never felt so utterly worthless in my life.

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    The nights seemed to go on forever, alternating between vivid nightmares and harsh reality. My dreams were filled with images of Donavon making out with the faceless blond girl. I couldn¡¯t shake them from my mind. I would wake up crying, and for several blissful moments, I wouldn¡¯t be able to remember why I was so upset. Then reality would set in, and images of Donavon¡ªhalf-naked, jumping out of his bed¡ªwould tear through my consciousness, and the floodgates that held my tears back would break.

    After my parents¡¯ deaths, I¡¯d been furious. Mac had offered me the opportunity to join the McDonough School; to replace my grief with purpose and to avenge their deaths. I¡¯d given everything I had to training¡ªhoning my existing abilities, developing new ones, and channeling my feelings towards a goal.

    At first, for the month that I had been in the Medical Ward at the School, I¡¯d felt so alone. Up until then, I¡¯d never spent more than a day or two away from my parents. In the Medical Ward, the only company I had was the medics that came to take my blood and check my vitals and, of course, Mac. Unfortunately, Mac was no substitute for my parents. My parents had been warm and caring. Mac was straight to the point and matter-of-fact. While over time he became like a surrogate father, he was impersonal and cold compared to my warm and loving parents.

    When I left the Medical Ward, I met Donavon, and from that day on, I¡¯d counted on him. Until now, he had never let me down. Donavon hadn¡¯t replaced my parents either, but overnight, he became everything to me¡ªmy best friend, my family, and, eventually, my boyfriend. We shared everything. And, thanks to my mental capabilities, we even shared our innermost secrets, thoughts, and desires. I doubted that people who spent an entire lifetime together died knowing as much about each other, or feeling as close to one another, as I¡¯d felt to Donavon. Or so I¡¯d thought.

    Donavon¡¯s betrayal was made worse because it made me doubt myself and my Talents. Before, I¡¯d felt secure in the notion that I could tell who to trust by using my abilities. Yet, Donavon had been able to keep a monumental secret from me. I hadn¡¯t even guessed that something was wrong. I felt like a fool when I thought about how many people probably knew Donavon¡¯s secret while I, who could supposedly read his every thought, had been oblivious.

    I would¡¯ve been convinced that Erik was restraining himself from saying ¡°I told you so,¡± but I frequently connected with his mind, and what I found was even worse¡ªsympathy. Outside of practice, I kept my mind closed; I didn¡¯t want to know what others thought about me.

    The anger and resentment built steadily in the days that followed the incident with Donavon until one day, I finally snapped during practice. Henri had us doing two-on-one sparring drills. He was blindfolded in the center of the sparring mat, while Erik and I took turns attacking him from different angles. Erik barked commands into my head, but my lack of concentration made me flounder in most of my attempts. Erik¡¯s frustration at my inability to focus, mixed with pity, crashed through his mental barricades and saturated my subconscious. The restrained haze that I¡¯d been living in for days cleared. My self-control shattered like a thin layer of ice.

    Instead of attacking Henri, I rounded on Erik, launching myself through the air. He was so surprised that he didn¡¯t have time to defend himself. I collided with him, my momentum knocking him to the ground. I landed on top, my legs straddling his waist. I pulled my right fist back to hit him, but I hadn¡¯t broken the mental connection before attacking. He read my mind and caught my fist in mid-air, stopping the assault. Not missing a beat, I drew my left fist back and hooked him in the side of the head. He barely noticed. He wrapped his large hands around my waist and hoisted me up and over his head. I rolled neatly to my feet and turned to see him crouched low, the long sinewy muscles in his arms coiled like twin snakes ready to attack. His eyes were black and alive, two coals burning with excitement. I felt electricity course through the connection, fueling my own desire for the fight.

    ¡°STOP!¡± Henri bellowed, throwing off the blindfold.

    But it was too late. I was like a lioness on a hunt; I smelled the prey and nothing could change my direction. Erik didn¡¯t spare him a glance before hurtling towards me. I was unprepared for his speed and ferocity. I leaned to my right just in time to avoid a direct hit, but one of his corded arms caught me around the waist, slamming me onto the mat. The air rushed from my lungs, but I managed to roll on my side before he could get himself on top of me. I was on my feet before he was, and I didn¡¯t waste the opportunity. I kicked him as hard as I could in his midsection. It barely slowed his ascent. I raised my leg to kick a second time, but he was too fast. His long fingers encircled my ankle. He managed to throw me backwards across the mat using a combination of his own physical strength and my mimicked telekinesis. I scrambled to my feet, anticipating another attack.

    ¡°Talia! Erik!¡± Henri shouted, trying to get our attention.

    Erik glanced sidelong at him. Then he looked back at me. His lips parted slightly, revealing his perfect white teeth, his canines looking sharper than I remembered. I could feel the thrill emanating off him in waves and my own pores soaked up his excitement.

    ¡°That all you got, Tals?¡± he taunted. ¡°You know what? I do pity you. Your fighting skills are abysmal.¡±

    I knew that he was mocking me, purposely provoking me now. He knew that I would rise to the challenge. I let out an inhuman scream, a jumble of the unspoken emotions ripping me apart from the inside out, and ran full tilt towards Erik. I¡¯m not sure if it was my screaming or if Erik read the plan out of my head, but he ran toward me at the same time. When we were still a couple of yards apart, we both leapt, crashing with a thwack in mid-air. We fell onto the mat, our arms and legs wrapped oddly around one another as if we were doing some bizarre dance. We began to roll around; punching and kicking with each opportunity we were given. He would use my mental powers to throw me across the room, only to have me pull him toward me to go another round.

    Erik was, no doubt, the better combatant, but today, I was in a rage-driven haze. For the first time in days, I felt alive. The physical pain made me forget about the emotional battering I¡¯d taken only days before. The adrenaline steeled my frazzled psyche. I was like a junkie; I wanted more. Erik¡¯s desire encouraged my own, and I fed off of the thrill that the fight provoked deep within him.

    Henri had given up trying to stop us and positioned himself against a wall, clucking his disapproval.

    Eventually, my stamina started to weaken. Erik pressed his advantage. There would be no more coddling from him, no mercy. I tried to use his resilience to reinvigorate my tired and aching body, but he was waning, too. He pinned me underneath him, straddling me and squeezing my ribcage with his thighs. I was starting to see black spots, my already-labored breathing and short arm span were doing me no favors. Too much more mental exertion and I¡¯d pass out. I summoned my remaining strength and mentally flung him off of me; I knew that I was on the verge of unconsciousness either way. I heard him hit the ground with a thud. I blinked furiously at the spots dotting my vision, trying desperately to hold on to awareness.

    The dots grew smaller and smaller until I was left with a clear view of the glass ceiling, high overhead. I was too tired to move, almost too tired to breathe. My body throbbed from being thrown and pummeled. I knew that I would be very bruised tomorrow. My breath was still coming out in labored gasps, and I didn¡¯t hear Erik crawling his way across the padded floor until he was nearly on top of me.

    ¡°Concede,¡± he wheezed, flipping down beside me.

    ¡°Never,¡± I muttered. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught the slight upturn of his mouth as his lips curved into a smile. We lay side by side trying to catch our breath for several long minutes.

    ¡°Feel better?¡± he whispered in my ear, his voice so soft that a strong gust of wind could have taken it away.

    I turned to face him. He had been careful not to hit me in the face, but I had not responded in kind. The right side of his face was puffy and red from several lucky shots that I¡¯d landed. I reached over, lightly running my fingers over his swollen skin.

    Exhaustion was weighing on my eyelids. If I could have, I would¡¯ve closed them right then and there, falling into a deep and satisfied slumber. The brief determination that I¡¯d mustered after Mac¡¯s speech in the cabin several days before returned, full force. Now, more than ever, I knew that I was meant to be here, to be a Hunter.

    The release of so much pent up aggression made me feel better than I had in days; giving me hope that I would, in fact, be able to get past Donavon¡¯s betrayal. The anger and hurt were still there, just not as intense. While I was still having trouble catching my breath, the iceberg in my chest was starting to thaw a little. My stomach even grumbled, and I realized that I was finally hungry. I had no idea how long this adrenaline high would last, but I was willing to do just about anything to hold on to it.

    ¡°Thanks, Erik,¡± I finally whispered back.

    ¡°If you two are done killing each other, can we please get back to practice?¡± Henri asked, his tall body looming over us. He tried to sound irritated at the interruption to our practice, but I could feel his elation at finally seeing me focus my energy on something productive¡ªeven if that was attacking my own teammate.

 Chapter Twenty-Three: The One with all the Missions

    A week after the incident, as I was now referring to my destruction of Donavon¡¯s cabin, we were finally getting ready to leave on our next mission. I busied myself with the preparations: memorizing floor plans and city maps, reviewing how to use all of the Crypto gadgets, and even spending a full day shadowing Dr. Daid.

    Henri was worried that I wasn¡¯t ready. He thought I was too distracted, and a distracted teammate wasn¡¯t a risk worth taking. I¡¯m sure that my impromptu death match with Erik hadn¡¯t actually helped my cause. At the time, he¡¯d been relieved to see that I had the ability to focus on a task, but he wasn¡¯t impressed with my impulse control. If Erik hadn¡¯t convinced him to let me go, I doubt he would have. He trusted Erik¡¯s judgment, and Erik thought that the best thing for me was to get back to as normal of a routine as possible.

    I knew all of this because Henri was a terrible blocker but a great projector. When our minds were connected for practice, his thoughts flowed easily from his head into my own without a filter. I frequently caught glimpses of Erik and Henri¡¯s hushed conversations on the topic of my ¡°readiness¡± while we were practicing. I wanted to reassure Henri, but I didn¡¯t want him to realize how exposed his mind actually was.

    Erik was much better at blocking me from the parts of his mind that he didn¡¯t want me to see, and I tried not to push. He was the only person who seemed to believe in me, and I was in no hurry to find out that wasn¡¯t true.

    We left for the mission in the middle of the night. After packing my small bag, I sat on my bed in the cabin, taking in every minute detail for the last time. When I first arrived at Headquarters and saw the cabin, I¡¯d been devastated. Donavon had told me about his cabin, even showed me pictures, so I thought that I was prepared for the bare-essential living associated with Hunters Village. I¡¯d thought wrong. Donavon¡¯s warnings had not prepared me for the small wooden structure that smelled faintly of pine and damp earth. The room had none of the techno gadgets I¡¯d grown accustomed to; in the beginning, I¡¯d thought I would never get used to turning off and on the lights manually, let alone using five blankets to get warm instead of setting the temperature regulator on my mattress.

    Now that I knew I was looking at my cabin, my home for the last several months, for the last time, I knew that I was going to miss living here. The next morning, day laborers from the city, who came in during the day to perform odd jobs around Headquarters, would be here to pack our things and move them into our new apartments.

    ¡°Sure is going to be nice to come back and have a great big bed to crash in,¡± Erik commented when he caught my gaze wandering over the wooden walls.

    ¡°Yeah, I guess.¡± I gave him a small smile.

    When I walked out of the cabin, I stopped and looked to my right, at the ruins of Donavon¡¯s cabin. My stomach clenched uncomfortably. Every time I entered or exited my cabin, I couldn¡¯t help but stare at the destruction. I should feel bad, maybe even regret what I¡¯d done, but I didn¡¯t; Donavon deserved it. Actually, he deserved worse¡ªway worse. Arden and Harris probably thought that I was crazy, but their opinions were of little significance to me anymore. If they did think I was nuts, they weren¡¯t the only ones.

    Workers had already cleaned out the inside and replaced the windows and door. I felt slightly abashed at the thought that somebody else was cleaning up my mess. By the time I returned from my mission, the cabin should be finished. I knew from Penny that Donavon, Harris, and Arden were staying in a suite in guest housing until the cabin was rebuilt.

    Erik gently grabbed my arm and steered me toward the plane. Erik and Henri spoke in hushed voices the entire way to the hangar. I remained silent unless asked a direct question. Once on board, I curled into a ball in my seat and fell asleep almost immediately.

    Our mission was in Topeka, Kansas. Like the other states that bordered The Coalition¡¯s territory, Kansas was of particular interest to The Agency. The Coalition movement had been building steadily; spreading like a fungus, infecting states one city at a time since the Secession of the Western States. Colorado was the latest state to succumb to Ian Crane¡¯s rule and The Agency worried that The Coalition had a foothold in parts of Kansas as a result. Our government wasn¡¯t na?ve enough to believe that Crane didn¡¯t have some supporters in every state; he did. The concern with border states was that they were more susceptible to Crane¡¯s influence because The Agency didn¡¯t have a great presence in those regions.

    In recent years, uprisings in the border states had become more and more prevalent. TOXIC worried that if these rebel factions weren¡¯t squashed, we would be faced with a full-on revolt, much like the one that Crane had staged when he originally took over a handful of states and formed The Coalition. While School had taught us that his rebellion was unsuccessful, I personally thought that gaining control of seven states was not a failure. However, The Agency knew that the more states he gained, the harder it would be to defeat him the second time around.

    Kansas was one of the few border states that had yet to come under martial law. One of our Crypto teams had learned of a large gathering of Coalition supporters taking place in Topeka. Our mission was to apprehend the leaders before the meeting could take place. If we could take the organizers into custody and prevent the rally, we could, hopefully, prevent a recurrence of the trouble that took place in Mobile, AL five years earlier.

    In Mobile, almost a hundred citizens died when TOXIC had tried to break up a similar gathering. Since the incident, hunting teams were frequently dispatched to arrest the leaders in advance. TOXIC found that the rebel factions frequently disbanded in the absence of leadership.

    Honestly, I wasn¡¯t really gung-ho on the whole idea of preventing free speech and all that. (In The United States v. Brighton, the Supreme Court had ruled that Talents were a protected class of individuals and therefore, the First Amendment didn¡¯t protect salacious speech). Most days, I wasn¡¯t even sure that I was completely on board with the Mandatory Talent Testing Act. I mean, forcing children to be tested seemed a little extreme. Imprisoning violators, parents who refused to submit their offspring to testing, definitely seemed harsh. Despite that, going to the McDonough School had proven beneficial for me. Prior to meeting other Talented kids, I¡¯d honestly believed there was something shameful about my abilities. My parents, bless them, had discouraged me from exploring my powers. They¡¯d made it clear that I should hide them. Now, I understood that they were probably just scared that untalented people would treat me like a freak, and they didn¡¯t want me subjected to taunting and teasing. That same sentiment was likely what drove parents in the U.S. to risk jail time by violating the Act. I¡¯d always wondered if my parents would have submitted me for testing if I¡¯d been born in the U.S. I believed that they would have. My father had been friends with Mac so he would¡¯ve known that I¡¯d be taken care of and trained well.

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    What I was sure of, without a shadow of a doubt, was that anyone who supported Ian Crane was inherently bad. Any man who ordered the deaths of innocent people was evil. Anybody who supported such an agenda was, by association, evil.

    Surprisingly, I wasn¡¯t the only member of our team that didn¡¯t completely back the Mandatory Talent Testing Act. Erik worked hard to keep his thoughts about it to himself, but sometimes they leaked out. I never pressed the issue. Speaking openly against the Act was only a few steps removed from treason. Normal citizens were given a little more leeway, but a TOXIC operative speaking out against the Act would lead to traitorous accusations. I¡¯d heard of loose-lipped Agency operatives being charged with spying for The Coalition. The thought of Erik standing trial for spying shook me to my very core.

    Like our previous few missions, this one went off without a hitch. The misguided leaders of The Coalition rally were a husband and wife. I¡¯d been shocked when we arrived at their modest, yet well-maintained home. It was in one of those cookie-cutter neighborhoods, where even the hover-cars in the driveways matched. We¡¯d purposely raided their home in the middle of the night, in hopes of preventing a spectacle. However, the stealth proved unnecessary as they came without protest. I wondered how many of their neighbors would be surprised to learn that they¡¯d been living amongst rebel supporters. I wondered how many of the neighbors were rebel supporters.

    Erik remained steel-faced through the short endeavor, yet I could tell that he wasn¡¯t comfortable. He performed every detail of the mission with the same precision and thoroughness that he did everything, but his mood was heavy; very un-Erik-like. I tried not to dwell on it too much.

    After taking the offending duo into custody, we escorted them to one of TOXIC¡¯s interrogation facilities just outside of D.C.¡¯s overcrowded beltway. My first real twinges of unease came when we handed our captives over to the guards at the base. Psychic interrogation was not fun for anybody involved. The prisoner¡¯s minds would be poked, prodded, and searched; every memory examined, every detail of their lives exposed to determine exactly how far their involvement with The Coalition went. I shuddered at the thought.

    Secretly, I hoped that their interrogator wasn¡¯t very strong. True, they were in league with the man who¡¯d ordered my parents¡¯ deaths, but they might just be people against mandatory testing. They may not know of or support Crane¡¯s more radical agendas. Not everyone who underwent intense mental interrogation made it out unscathed; sometimes, the interrogator went too deep or broke the person¡¯s will. I really hoped that the interrogator wasn¡¯t that strong and assured myself that it was unlikely they would be. According to Mac, I was the only Mind Manipulator currently with TOXIC who was strong enough to break someone¡¯s will.

    After depositing the violators, we headed back to Elite Headquarters. Once there, I headed straight for my new room. I¡¯d expected it to look like Penny¡¯s, except instead of white, the room was decorated in shades of purple. The carpet was a deep royal purple color and the walls had been painted lavender with white trim. My new bed was covered in a violet and white floral-patterned bedspread with matching purple pillows. The plastic chair and table set was somewhere in between the deep purple of the carpet and the lavender on the walls. My meager clothing hung pathetically in the humongous closet. I might actually need to take Penny up on her offer to help me buy new clothes, even though I would likely never wear them. I had a ton of clothes, but I¡¯d left them at Mac¡¯s house. There wasn¡¯t really a need for my more extravagant outfits here.

    I fell in love with my room the moment I stepped foot inside. But I didn¡¯t have much time to enjoy its luxuries before I was back at training and gearing up for my next hunt. This quickly became a trend, but I didn¡¯t mind; the more time that I spent away from Headquarters, the less chance I had to run into Donavon.

    Thankfully, the hours in-between waking and sleeping were packed full, and I rarely had time to think about anything except the task at hand. I¡¯d begged Erik to convince his medic friend, Zach, to sneak me pills that induced a dreamless sleep. He caved, so it was only twice a day that thoughts of Donavon invaded my mind, threatening to pull me back into the darkness and depression that I was still clawing my way out of.

    Our missions took us all over Coalition and Agency territory. One day, we would be in a small town with no running water, the next, in a huge city with techie stores on every corner. Even though I was spending all of my time with Erik and Henri, I felt more alone than ever. All of the previous confusion over my feelings for Erik seemed trivial. I no longer felt anything. My internal numbness wasn¡¯t reserved specifically for Erik; I felt indifferent, at best, towards everyone and everything except Donavon. I hated Donavon. Nothing excited me anymore; nothing shocked me anymore; nothing hurt me anymore.

    During our actual hunts, I let my teammates¡¯ emotions become my own. I fed on the thrill and excitement that coursed through them, using it to propel my own senses into overdrive. The surge of adrenaline that accompanied the moment before we entered a building, the heart-stopping pandemonium associated with every fight, and the ecstasy of victory when we succeeded filled the void left by Donavon¡¯s absence. I soon became addicted to the hunt.

    On the rare occasion that we were at Headquarters long enough to do anything besides prepare for the next mission, I spent my time with Penny. Mac allowed us to go into the city on our days off, as long as we were back before dark. Unfortunately, he balked at authorizing hover lessons for either of us. We had to rely on the good graces of Henri and Erik, but that wasn¡¯t usually a problem.

    Penny urged me to buy decorations for my room when we went into the city, but I never felt like it. I spent so little time there that it seemed silly to hang pictures that only the cleaning staff would see. I did let her talk me into buying clothes and shoes to fill my closet. That also seemed silly, but it made Penny happy, and seeing Penny happy actually made me feel¡­ something.

    The best thing about spending time with Penny was not being in her head. It was nice to sit with her and pretend that I was normal. I had no choice with Erik and Henri since I had to connect with their minds for our missions. And unfortunately, no matter how hard they both tried to keep it from me, their thoughts of Donavon and the incident in his cabin came to the forefront while we were practicing. With Penny, I never had to know what she was thinking. When I asked her a question, I waited for her response. I took her answers at face value because I didn¡¯t have a reason to suspect otherwise.

    I hadn¡¯t actually seen Donavon since the incident. Not living in Hunters Village reduced the risk of me running into him by accident. I was careful to avoid the caf¨¦s that I knew he frequented, choosing to order my meals from the kitchen downstairs instead. When I went into the city, I didn¡¯t have to worry about running into him at the kind of places Penny liked to shop. My practice gym was far enough away from his that if I took certain pathways, I knew I was unlikely to see him. Also, I had a feeling that Mac and Captain Alvarez were arranging our missions to ensure that one of us was almost always away from Headquarters. That suited me just fine.

 Chapter Twenty-Four: The One Where Her Confidence Waivers

    Before long, our missions became more dangerous and more complex. I knew that this was unusual for a team as young as ours, but Mac insisted that our track record spoke for itself. We received our first kill mission just before I was due to formally graduate I had conflicted emotions about the assignment. I knew that kill missions came with the job, but they were few and far between. They were even less common when one of the teammates was still a pledge. It wasn¡¯t like we escaped every mission without taking some casualties. Our very first mission had been proof of that. But a hunt where the very purpose was to take another human life, the knowledge that for us to succeed, somebody had to die? I couldn¡¯t stomach the thought.

    The week before we were scheduled to leave was more hectic and intense than usual. Henri programmed the simulator in our training arena for kill scenarios, setting the rubric for situations similar to the ones we¡¯d likely face. The holographic images were incredibly life-like, and when one landed a blow, a jolt of electricity ran through my body. Our trainings were more somber, more serious than usual. The collective mood of our team weighed heavily on me since I absorbed the feelings of both boys.

    Henri and Erik had been on several kill missions in their time with the Hunters, and neither was eager to repeat the process. Henri tried to treat the assignment like any other, but he couldn¡¯t keep the darkness from his mind. Erik, usually so good at pulling off a nonchalant, carefree attitude, tried to keep the sickness that he felt tucked away in the corners of his mind, but sometimes, it slipped out.

    For my part, I was secretly glad to have something all-consuming to take over my thoughts. The more that I thought about what we were about to do, the less that I thought about Donavon. And anything that kept my mind off of Donavon was a good thing.

    Henri painstakingly walked me through every detail of the laboratory where we would carry out our mission. He explained that the target worked late, alone in his lab. We should be able to get in, complete the mission, and get out before anybody discovered the body. Henri had a complete bio on the target, but I couldn¡¯t bring myself to read it. I told myself that he was a threat to TOXIC, and most likely a Crane supporter. He must be a very bad man. That was all that I needed to know.

    Henri spent the night before we left in D.C. with Frederick. His mind had been distracted all day with thoughts of mortality and the prospect of never seeing Frederick again. I kept seeing flashes of past kill missions, some that had gone right and some that hadn¡¯t. I realized for the first time how close Henri had come to being captured on more than one occasion. Of course, I had heard of horribly botched missions and near misses, but feeling Henri¡¯s fear, as if it were my own, unnerved me. I finally understood the enormity of the situation. Any initial relief about this mission being a distraction quickly dissipated.

    I wasn¡¯t the only one feeling it. Erik also felt the weight of Henri¡¯s past experiences mingled with his own. He radiated a desire to feel alive and connected with a person outside of TOXIC, a person who had no idea what he did or who he was. When he got ready to leave for the city that night, I wanted to beg him to stay with me, but I knew I had no right. It would be selfish and unfair of me to deny him the opportunity to find what he was so desperately craving, particularly when I knew that Henri¡¯s thoughts and feelings were not the only ones that he was absorbing.

    I¡¯d noticed in my weaker moments in practice, my fear and trepidation reached a boiling point and spilled over to Erik, his mood would plummet even further. I tried to keep my thoughts to myself. I knew firsthand that shouldering the burden of others¡¯ emotions¡ªespecially when compounded by your own¡ªwas exhausting. But sometimes my feelings were just too intense to contain, and they burst free into the only outlet that I had: Erik.

    That night, I didn¡¯t want to be alone. No matter how many times I told myself that what we were doing was necessary, I couldn¡¯t shake the leaden feeling in the pit of my stomach. This man probably had family or friends, somebody that would miss him. I kept going back and forth in my mind. From: What could he have done that was so horrible that he deserved to die? to He supported Ian Crane.

    After tossing and turning for half the night, I decided to go and knock on Penny¡¯s door. I only made it as far as my own before I heard a soft knock. I paused, not trusting my ears, and waited to see if the knock came a second time. It did. I opened my mind¡ªErik. I slowly opened the door with my powers. He was leaning against the door frame. His dark hair hung in his bloodshot eyes, and his shirt was half untucked from his jeans. I drank in his disheveled appearance and thought that he had never looked better.

    ¡°You¡¯re awake,¡± he slurred, his eyes lighting up.

    ¡°You¡¯re drunk,¡± I replied, matter-of-factly.

    He grinned, ¡°Can I come in?¡±

    I swept my arm in a welcoming gesture and Erik stumbled in, headed straight for my bed. He flopped down on the comforter, leaving his feet dangling off the side. I stood uncomfortably in the middle of the room. Since moving to the apartments, we¡¯d had little social interaction. I saw him every day, but we hadn¡¯t been alone, just the two of us, since the incident with Donavon.

    ¡°It¡¯s very purple in here,¡± he observed.

    ¡°It¡¯s my favorite color,¡± I replied lamely.

    ¡°Makes sense.¡± I failed to see how any part of this situation made sense.

    ¡°Erik, what are you doing here?¡± I asked bluntly.

    He raised himself up on one elbow and tried to tuck the too-long strands of his hair behind his ear. He didn¡¯t respond. I nervously chewed the inside of my lower lip and willed him to say something, anything.

    ¡°Don¡¯t want to be alone,¡± he finally said in a low voice.

    ¡°You could¡¯ve stayed in the city if you didn¡¯t want to be alone,¡± I tried to keep my tone light.

    ¡°True,¡± Erik conceded, ¡°but I didn¡¯t want to pretend that I was having a good time and that tomorrow was just like every other day.¡± All of his normal bravado was gone. His eyes were unguarded, making him look uncharacteristically vulnerable.

    I nodded, ¡°Okay.¡±

    ¡°If you¡¯d rather I leave¡­.¡± He started to get up.

    ¡°No, no, don¡¯t leave,¡± I said too quickly, making a move towards my bed. ¡°I don¡¯t want to be alone, either,¡± I added quietly.

    ¡°I know,¡± he answered.

    I really didn¡¯t want for him to leave. Any feelings that I may have had for Erik in the past aside, I really wanted to be near somebody. I told myself it could be anybody. I moved slowly towards my bed and sat on the edge, careful not to touch Erik. I could feel my heart beating in my throat, and hoped that Erik was too drunk to notice. He was still propped up on his elbow, and he reached out with his free hand and took mine.

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    ¡°Thanks, Tals,¡± he whispered.

    I smiled nervously, not meeting his eyes. His vulnerability stirred something inside of me. I was seized by the desire to comfort him, but I refrained.

    He released my hand and reached behind him, grabbing two pillows and throwing them to the opposite end of the bed. He kicked off his shoes and flipped his body around so that his head lay at the end of the bed. I crawled toward the headboard and curled up so that my toes wouldn¡¯t be too close to his face, even though his much larger feet were resting on a pillow near my head.

    I closed my eyes and tried to relax. On the one hand, having Erik here satisfied my need to be close to somebody, easing my tension. On the other hand, having Erik there elicited feelings that I thought no longer existed, creating more anxiety.

    Something tickled the sole of my foot, and I instinctively kicked out. Thankfully, Erik¡¯s drunken reflexes were still much faster than most normal people¡¯s sober ones, and he grabbed my foot before it made contact with his more sensitive areas.

    ¡°Tals, it¡¯s your bed, stretch out,¡± he mumbled. ¡°Besides, you¡¯re only half a person, so you barely take up any room.¡± He laughed at his own not-funny joke.

    I gave another small kick, but he still had ahold of my foot. I stretched out my legs and, even though my bed was plenty big enough for both of us, he held on. Erik cuddling with my feet had an oddly comforting quality, and I fell asleep almost instantly.

    When I woke up the next morning, I was immediately aware of Erik¡¯s absence, and for some reason, it made me feel even more alone. I quickly packed my mission bag and headed for the hover-hangar, my whole body a rope of tightly-kinked knots.

    Erik and Henri were both waiting when I got there. The tension in the air was palpable. Nobody spoke. Erik¡¯s vulnerability from last night was long gone, replaced by a confident mask that concealed his strained psyche. Henri was all business. His demeanor lacked Erik¡¯s confidence, but contained none of his nerves either. He was cool and collected, and he had cleared his mind of the slideshow of fears that had been playing there all week.

    I curled up in my seat, closed my eyes, and concentrated on turning off my mental abilities. I managed to reach a meditative-like state, with all of my energy focused on my sense of touch. My fingers traced the contours of the quilted seat cushion, counting the thread. If Erik or Henri thought my behavior was weird, they didn¡¯t let on. I honestly didn¡¯t care either way; I couldn¡¯t handle their feelings on top of my own. It was easier to block them all.

    We changed into our adapti-suits on the plane and strapped on our weapons while still on the plane, since there would be no time to waste once we landed. Erik smudged adapti-paint on my face, making my skin blend in with my suit. It provided my entire body the ability to meld with the surroundings. We needed to complete this mission very quickly. Once we were on the ground, we¡¯d have two hours to jog the ten miles to the village, do a quick check to verify our intel, complete the mission, and get out. Kill missions were too risky to linger in the vicinity for very long.

    We landed in a small clearing and deplaned in silence. I immediately opened my mind to establish our mental connection, and we jogged off into the surrounding woods. I could feel both boys¡¯ minds buzzing with concentration. The suit regulated my body temperature so that my body didn¡¯t sweat, but that same couldn¡¯t be said for my face. I had to resist the urge to wipe at the excessive sweat so as not to rub off the adapti-paint.

    The jog was not strenuous, but the physical activity helped to take the edge off. At least it did until the village came into view. The surroundings became familiar from the surveillance footage, and my case of nerves returned two-fold. I pulled at the neck of my suddenly too-small suit and gulped air, struggling to get enough in my lungs.

    ¡°Talia, I need you to focus. The sooner we get in there, the sooner we get out. Okay?¡± Henri¡¯s voice was not unkind, but contained an edge that told me I needed to get myself under control immediately. He was right. I gritted my teeth and concentrated on slowing my breathing. Erik placed one gloved hand on the nape of my neck and applied just a shadow of pressure.

    ¡°Be strong, Tals. You¡¯ve got this,¡± he encouraged.

    I took one last deep breath. ¡°I¡¯m ready.¡±

    The laboratory was on the edge of a small village just over the border, in Coalition territory. Our best shot at finding the target alone was at work in his laboratory. We didn¡¯t have the luxury of waiting until dark; we needed to catch him before he left for the evening. Our suits and face paint allowed us to blend easily into our surroundings; unless somebody was fairly close, or looked really hard, they wouldn¡¯t notice our presence. However, I still felt exposed as we moved through the village.

    The laboratory was a long, sprawling one-floor cement building. We took cover behind a dumpster not visible from the street. Henri worked quickly to get the imaging devices out of his bag and take heat images of the cement building. Erik and I crouched over his shoulder, watching as the images appeared on the tiny display screen. The concrete was thicker than we¡¯d imagined, but we were still able to pull faint images and confirm that the target was inside.

    ¡°Ready?¡± Henri asked.

    ¡°Ready,¡± Erik confirmed.

    ¡°Ready,¡± I echoed, not feeling ready at all. Erik¡¯s words rang in my head. Be strong, be strong, be strong, I chanted to myself. You¡¯ve got this.

    I followed Henri and Erik up to the front gate. I held my breath while Erik punched in a ten-digit code. The lock on the gate soundlessly disengaged, and Henri pushed it open just enough for us to squeeze through. Henri took the lead and we flanked his sides. I reminded myself to breathe as we jogged silently up to the main entrance. Once inside, we navigated the maze of hallways to where the target was supposed to be. The interior walls were the same thick concrete as the outside of the building. I suddenly realized that there were probably more people in the building than we¡¯d seen on the imager. My thoughts were confirmed when two men rounded the corner at the end of the corridor. The hallways were too narrow to hope that we would go unnoticed, even if we flattened ourselves against the concrete walls.

    ¡°Erik, take the left. I¡¯ll take the right. Talia, move on to the target,¡± Henri ordered.

    The men didn¡¯t see us until it was too late. Henri and Erik attacked in unison, catching them by surprise. I ran through the middle of the fight and continued to where we¡¯d seen the red outline on the scan, indicating the target. I found the room easily and turned the knob, but it didn¡¯t budge. Putting my other hand on the door, I envisioned the locking mechanism. I mentally disengaged the bolts and felt the knob turn in my hand. I breathed a sigh of relief, and pushed the door open.

    A short, balding man sat behind a large table full of vials and contraptions all holding different colored liquids. He looked directly at me, and dropped the vial that he was holding in his hand. I didn¡¯t know how many more people might be in the building, but I didn¡¯t want to find out. I froze the vial to suspend it in midair before it could shatter on the floor. The guy could see me, but was having a tough time focusing on me since the suit and face paint were obscuring my appearance. I moved slower than I should have towards him, reaching for one of the knives in my belt.

    ¡°TOXIC, right?¡± the man stuttered.

    I didn¡¯t respond; I couldn¡¯t have formulated words if my life depended on it. My tongue felt thick and heavy, filling the small space between my tightly clenched jaws. A sour taste ran down the back of my throat. I continued toward him. He backed away as I advanced, knocking over vials as he went. I wasn¡¯t fast enough to mentally catch all of them before they hit the ground¡ªso much for not attracting attention. He continued to retreat until his back slammed into the far wall of the room. I quickened my pace until I was right in front of him. He fell to his knees by my feet, holding up his hands to shield himself. My reflexes took over and I pounced, pressing my knife to his throat.

    ¡°No, please, no,¡± the man begged.

    I reached to my belt with my free hand and grabbed the syringe holding the poison. I gripped the syringe so hard that I could feel the skin over my knuckles go tight. The same panic that had seized me outside of the warehouse took over my body again. My chest heaved in and out as I tried to catch my breath. I felt a burning sensation in the corners of my eyes and willed myself not to cry.

    Noting my hesitation, the man started to get up. I pushed the tip of the knife harder against the pale skin of his neck, penetrating the flesh and drawing blood. I closed my eyes and shook my head, trying to erase my misgivings. The man shrunk back even further, pressing himself into the wall. A large hand closed around my hand that was holding the syringe. The hand forced the syringe into the man¡¯s bulging blue vein and depressed the plunger. I watched in horror as the man¡¯s dark brown eyes dulled and then rolled back as he slumped to the floor. The hand pried my fingers away from the syringe that I was still holding.

    ¡°Let go, Tals.¡±

 Chapter Twenty-Five: The One with the Party Dress

    I collapsed back against the person attached to the hand¡ªErik. He wrapped his arms around me, holding me to his chest for a brief second before releasing me to reach in his pack. I fell to my knees next to the man¡¯s lifeless form. Erik pulled out a small scanner, similar to the one that Henri had used to image my body when I got stabbed. He scanned the man¡¯s body, and it produced a barely perceptible beep.

    ¡°He¡¯s dead,¡± Erik confirmed.

    I couldn¡¯t move. I stared open-mouthed down at the dead man¡¯s body. I felt the burning sensation behind my eyes again.

    ¡°We need to go now, Natalia,¡± Erik said firmly, pulling me to my feet. He wrapped his arm around my waist and gently pulled me to the door. Henri was standing guard outside. We sprinted out of the building the same way that we¡¯d come in, Henri in the lead. We didn¡¯t slow our pace until we reached the edge of the woods.

    Henri and Erik quickly shed their weapons and packs and morphed into two large birds. As if on autopilot, I mindlessly strapped their weapons to my body and the packs onto Henri¡¯s back. When I was confident that everything was secure, I climbed onto Erik¡¯s back and wrapped my arms securely around his neck. I closed my eyes as the two large birds took off into the dark night sky. I had yet to master riding Erik¡¯s giant bird form, but I was consistently staying on in practices, so I wasn¡¯t scared flying the distance to the hover-plane. I was in such a state of shock that I don¡¯t think I would¡¯ve cared if I fell off.

    The two giant birds touched down in the clearing, near the waiting craft. I jumped off Erik¡¯s back before his talons struck the ground, and ran up the gangplank before either could morph back. I climbed into my seat. I fumbled with the buckles, trying and failing to fit all of the pieces into the right parts. I screamed in frustration when I failed for the third time.

    ¡°I got it, Tals,¡± Erik said gently, taking the buckles out of my hands. He deftly fastened the buckles and then got up, returning a moment later with chemi-wipes. He gently cleaned the streaked paint off my face, wiping away the silently falling tears with his thumb.

    ¡°You did really well, Natalia,¡± Henri said, taking Erik¡¯s place next to my chair.

    ¡°Thanks,¡± I sniffed.

    ¡°I know how hard it is the first time. I¡¯d like to tell you that it gets easier, but it doesn¡¯t,¡± he continued sadly.

    I nodded as if I understood. He reached out and squeezed my hand before getting up to take his seat. I tucked my knees up against my chest and rested my head on top. I closed my eyes, but I couldn¡¯t manage to fall asleep.

    The ride back to Headquarters was just as silent as the ride out, but the mood on the hover-plane was different. Instead of the stress and tension, the ride back was filled with sadness and remorse. Both Henri and Erik kept stealing not-so-discreet glances in my direction. When we arrived back at Headquarters, I went straight to my room. Erik, Penny, and Henri all made excuses to knock on my door. I ignored all of them.

    For the first time since our fight, I wanted to reach out to Donavon. Up until now, my barrage of emotions toward him was mostly anger and pain, but for the first time I actually missed him. I lost track of the number of times I opened my mind to seek out Donavon, and it took every ounce of restraint to keep me from calling out to him. Erik, Penny, or even Henri would have come to sit with me, but it wasn¡¯t the same. Despite everything, I yearned for the comfort that only Donavon could provide.

    I barely slept the night that we got back. I sat in my big bed, clutching an overstuffed purple pillow filled with goose feathers. I stared mindlessly out of my huge window at the grounds below. The next morning, I woke up more depressed than when I went to sleep. My mood was made worse when I realized that it was the beginning of the Festivis Holiday.

    The nation came together every May 13<sup>th</sup> to celebrate Festivis Day¡ªthe day that the government had halted The Coalition¡¯s rebellion. I wasn¡¯t really sure about celebrating a holiday that marked the split of a country, but I think I might be the only person who viewed it that way. Officially, the government declared that Festivis signified the commitment of the lasting states to remain unified. Given how tenuous the government¡¯s hold on some of those states was, I hoped that the celebrations served as a reminder of how great a nation we would be if we stayed unified.

    All of the operatives not training for an active mission were permitted to leave Headquarters. Ordinarily, I would have spent the holiday with Mac, Gretchen, and Donavon. Despite my moment of weakness the previous night, I wasn¡¯t ready to see Donavon, let alone stay in the same house with him. Gretchen had sent me message after message, begging me to come home, but I didn¡¯t return any of them. Mac had come to see me several times since the incident with Donavon, and repeated more of Gretchen¡¯s pleading. I¡¯d told him that I thought it best if I stayed at Headquarters. Mac had assured me that he understood and, of course, the decision was mine.

    My Communicator began buzzing early the next morning. I groaned and reached out in its general direction. Mac¡¯s name flashed across the display screen. I considered not answering, but he was aware that I was back from my mission and would likely continue to call until I answered. I fumbled around with the buttons until I finally found the right one.

    ¡°Hi, Mac,¡± I croaked as Mac¡¯s holographic face appeared.

    ¡°Hello, Natalia.¡± Mac sounded slightly disapproving. I hoped that it was because I was still in bed, and not because he¡¯d learned that I cried during my assignment. Mac didn¡¯t approve of crying.

    ¡°Happy Festivis, Mac,¡± I mumbled into my pillow.

    ¡°Yes, Happy Festivis. There will be lots of parades and celebrations going on in D.C. over the next couple of days. I¡¯ve arranged for both you and Penelope to attend any that you wish. Please don¡¯t overdo it; no other pledges have been afforded the same privileges.¡±

    ¡°Thanks, Mac,¡± I replied, brightening slightly as I propped myself up on my elbow. ¡°Tell Gretchen that I said hi and I will see her at my graduation.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I will¡­ Speaking of graduation, I heard that you completed your first kill mission yesterday.¡±

    Oh no, here came the lecture.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to talk about it,¡± I said quickly.

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    ¡°Natalia, you knew that this was part of the job,¡± Mac said flatly. Guess he had heard about my breakdown.

    ¡°I know,¡± I replied tightly, gritting my teeth.

    ¡°You¡¯d better get used to it, and fast. You graduate very soon. Once you are a full-fledged Hunter, kill missions will be more prevalent.¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± I repeated, an edge to my voice.

    ¡°Do you still want to be a Hunter, Natalia?¡± Mac demanded.

    ¡°Of course, I do!¡± I exclaimed, scrambling into a sitting position.

    ¡°Good. Start acting like it,¡± he retorted bitterly. His words were laced with unspoken innuendo.

    I had chosen to be a Hunter. I¡¯d worked towards this goal every day since I went to the McDonough School. I knew what the Hunters did before I came here. But I¡¯d been unprepared for the difference between knowing what Hunters did, and actually doing it. Now I knew. I just had to get used it.

    ¡°Your solo mission is just around the corner,¡± he continued. ¡°It is supposed to be a formality, but if you do not perform well, you will not become a Hunter. Nothing that I can do will change that.¡±

    I don¡¯t know if he meant it as a threat, but that¡¯s how I interpreted it. I winced. I¡¯d never truly considered not becoming a Hunter. That was not an option. I¡¯d chosen the Hunters because that was the only chance I¡¯d have to find the man responsible for my parents¡¯ deaths. Most mental Talents work in psychic interrogation, but I knew that would never be enough for me. I didn¡¯t want to interrogate the man who ordered my parent¡¯s execution. I wanted to hunt him down. I wanted to kill him. The realization hit me hard. I guess I did have a killer inside me.

    A myriad of excuses to give Mac were on the tip of my tongue, but Mac didn¡¯t want excuses. Mac wanted results. Besides, he already knew that I¡¯d been distracted after the incident with Donavon¡ªI think that was kind of the point of this phone call.

    ¡°I understand,¡± I said instead.

    ¡°I hope that you do. I hope that you¡¯re taking your position seriously.¡±

    ¡°I am,¡± I protested, louder than I meant to.

    ¡°Good, because if you fail your solo mission, I won¡¯t be able to save you,¡± he warned.

    ¡°I¡¯m not asking you to,¡± I replied coldly.

    ¡°Enjoy the holiday,¡± Mac said, letting me know that the conversation was over.

    ¡°Whatever,¡± I spat back.

    ¡°Goodbye, Natalia.¡± My Communicator made a loud buzzing noise, and Mac¡¯s holographic image disappeared.

    I screamed in frustration, rolling over on to my back. I pounded my fist against the mattress. It was childish, but I was furious¡ªmostly with myself. I needed to be more focused. I needed to become more desensitized to what we were doing. TOXIC was important, and what we were doing was important. The Coalition killed my parents. They deserved anything that came their way. I pounded the mattress with my fist again, this time in determination. I climbed out of bed and headed to my bathroom, vowing that I¡¯d be stronger next time. Next time, I wouldn¡¯t falter. Next time, Erik wouldn¡¯t have to do it for me.

    ***

    There was an insistent pounding on my door when I exited the bathroom a short while later. I pulled the tie on my fluffy bathrobe a little tighter as I opened my mind. It was Penny. I mentally forced the door open, and Penny¡¯s lanky form tumbled through, red hair first.

    ¡°Hey!¡± she exclaimed.

    ¡°Hey, Penny,¡± I smiled.

    ¡°I just heard,¡± she said excitedly.

    ¡°Heard? About what?¡± I asked. How I cried like a little girl during a mission? Yeah, I didn¡¯t need to hear about that. I was there.

    ¡°The Director gave us permission to attend the Festivis celebrations in the city!¡± Penny could barely contain her enthusiasm.

    ¡°Oh right, Mac mentioned that.¡± Before Mac had lectured me about my dedication to becoming a Hunter, I¡¯d been really excited about attending the celebrations. Now it didn¡¯t seem so important.

    ¡°We totally have to find our most city-girl-looking outfits!¡± Penny seemed immune to my indifference.

    ¡°I¡¯m not really sure I¡¯m up for going,¡± I started. Penny¡¯s face fell, and her bright green eyes clouded with disappointment.

    ¡°We don¡¯t have to dress up,¡± she offered, looking hopeful.

    ¡°It¡¯s not the dressing up, Penny,¡± I assured her.

    ¡°Then what is it? I¡¯ve always wanted to attend Festivis Day celebrations,¡± Penny pleaded. ¡°At the orphanage, we were only allowed to watch the parade go by, but they never let us leave to take part in any of the activities.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure some of the other Cryptos are going, right? Why don¡¯t you go with them?¡±

    ¡°Because I want to go with you!¡± She gave me one of her big toothy smiles and batted her eyelashes exaggeratedly at me.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, Penny¡­.¡±

    ¡°I promise it¡¯ll be fun.¡± She could tell my resolve was weakening and pounced on the opportunity. ¡°If you aren¡¯t having fun, you just tell me, and we¡¯ll come straight back,¡± she promised.

    It wasn¡¯t as if I were going to train today anyway. I nodded. ¡°Deal.¡±

    Penny¡¯s fervor was contagious, and before long I was almost as amped as she was to go. Penny took a quick inventory of my closet and dismissed all of my day-to-day clothes as too boring. She pulled out the silk garment bags that contained my most recent gifts from Gretchen, and littered their contents across my bed. I could practically see the wheels turning in her overly-analytical Crypto head as she ran her fingers over the fabrics.

    Finally, Penny pulled out a long, sleeveless, dark green dress made of chiffon and held it up. The straps of the dress fastened over the shoulders, with two large interlocking gold hoops on each side. The dress was cut in a deep V-shape in the front and back. A thin slip of a light green see-through material was all that prevented my skin from exposure. The waist of the dress was cinched with a wide belt that was the same green shade as the slip and was embroidered with gold and dark green flowers. The skirt of the dress was floor-length, full and flowing. A small gold hook was sewn into one side of the hem so I could hold the bottom of the dress off the ground when I walked.

    ¡°This is amazing!¡± she squealed. ¡°You are going to look amazing in it!¡±

    ¡°Thanks. It was a present from Gretchen. I think she always wanted a daughter,¡± I mumbled, embarrassed.

    ¡°Now, we just need to decide on your makeup.¡± She scrutinized my features, and I suddenly felt very self-conscious under her intense gaze. ¡°Stay right here. I¡¯ll be right back.¡± With that, Penny was out of the door. She was only gone for a couple of minutes, but when she returned, her arms were laden with garment bags of her own and huge boxes that I¡¯m sure contained makeup.

    Penny dumped everything on my bed and pulled one of the chairs from my breakfast set into the middle of the room.

    ¡°Sit,¡± she ordered, her eyes glittering with excitement.

    I obediently sat in the purple plastic chair and closed my eyes, giving my appearance over to Penny. While I still wasn¡¯t fully committed to the idea of going into the city, I began to warm to the idea. After the nightmare mission, maybe blowing off a little steam would be good for me. Maybe, dare I hope, I would even have a good time. Celebrating Festivis Day in the city with Penny had to be better than the alternative¡ªwallowing in my own self-pity.

    For the next hour or so, I opened my eyes when Penny said open; I puckered my lips when Penny said to pucker; I tilted my head when Penny said to tilt; and I tried not to flinch while Penny tugged and wound my hair around my head.

    ¡°Done!¡± she announced proudly after she zipped up my dress.

    ¡°Can I look in the mirror now?¡± I asked, although I wasn¡¯t sure I actually wanted to. If Penny¡¯s makeup was any indication of what she found attractive, and I kind of assumed it was, then I probably looked ridiculous.

    ¡°Of course! You¡¯re totally going to love it!¡±

    I grimaced. Somehow I doubted that, but for Penny¡¯s sake I¡¯d have to pretend.

    I was shuffling my way toward the bathroom, trying not to step on the hem of my dress, when I heard a knock at the door. I looked at Penny, alarmed. She gave me a quizzical look in return.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want anybody to see me like this,¡± I mouthed.

    Penny rolled her eyes and moved toward the door. I knew before she opened it that Erik was on the other side. He was dressed from head to toe in black, making his turquoise eyes shine like two small, perfectly matched gems. His black dress pants fit perfectly. The black, leathery belt threaded through the loops looked shiny and new, and his black dress shirt gave off a slight shine when the light hit it. His ensemble was completed with a black dress jacket.

    ¡°You girls almost¡­.¡± Erik trailed off when he saw me standing in the middle of the room. ¡°Tals, you look¡ª¡±

 Chapter Twenty-Six: The One with the Rejection

    ¡°Ridiculous?¡± I finished for him.

    ¡°No, no, you don¡¯t look ridiculous. You look amazing,¡± his eyes traveled the length of my body slowly, leaving me flushed and oddly thirsty. The memory of Erik¡¯s hand brushing my stomach to put on my bandages suddenly invaded my consciousness. The same tingling sensation that captivated me then washed over me tenfold now. I let out a shaky breath, silently praying Erik hadn¡¯t felt it, too.

    ¡°Thanks,¡± I mumbled, reaching up to smooth my hair self-consciously. I pulled my hand away in horror when I felt feathers covering one side of my head. Blood rushed to my cheeks. Thankfully, Penny had put so much makeup on my face I didn¡¯t think either of them could tell.

    ¡°I just need to get myself ready. I¡¯ll only be a minute,¡± Penny said to Erik.

    ¡°Are you going with us?¡± I asked, confused.

    ¡°Who¡¯d you think was going to drive you?¡± he smirked. I hadn¡¯t honestly thought about it. Any operative who hadn¡¯t left the compound for the holiday would be going to the celebrations, and all the pledges that were still here would likely be trying to sneak into the city. I guess I figured we¡¯d beg a ride off of one of them.

    ¡°Thanks.¡± I smiled at Erik.

    ¡°No problem. I¡¯ll wait downstairs with Harris and Henri. Come down when you¡¯re ready.¡± Erik made no move to leave, instead staring at me with a glint in his eye that made my head spin.

    ¡°The sooner you leave, the sooner Penny can get dressed,¡± I said, trying to keep my voice even.

    ¡°Right,¡± he spun on his heel and strolled to the door. Once he was gone, I let out a breath I hadn¡¯t realized I was holding. I felt the circulation return to my extremities as the pounding in my heart quieted.

    Penny gave me a knowing look, but kept her mouth shut for once. She held up three simple dresses for me to help her choose from. They were all the same basic style; one-shouldered sheaths that hung to the middle of the calf: one in black, one in electric blue, and one in lemon yellow. I saw her glance enviously toward the rest of my elaborately-styled dresses strewn about on my bed. I wanted to offer her one, but given our considerable height difference, they would never fit her. Instead, I pointed to the electric-blue one and watched as she slipped it over her head.

    I smiled. ¡°You look beautiful.¡±

    She returned my smile. ¡°We¡¯d better go before the cavalry returns.¡±

    I quickly programmed a request for room maintenance to clean the mess that Penny and I¡¯d left behind as we scurried out the door.

    As Penny pushed the down button for the elevator, I glimpsed my reflection for the first time in the metal doors. Penny had smoothed my curls into a sleek bun on one side of my neck. I did indeed have gold feathers decorating the opposite side. She had dusted green and gold shadows over my eyelids, and a pink blush on my cheeks. She¡¯d informed me, with a smirk, that the blush was called First Kiss. The pale pink gloss on my lips added very little color, but a whole lot of shine. I smiled at my reflection. I definitely looked like a city girl.

    Erik, Henri, and Harris were waiting for us in the lobby when we emerged from the elevator. I hadn¡¯t seen Harris since my fight with Donavon, and I had no idea what he thought of me; he was, after all, one of Donavon¡¯s best friends. I gave the boys a tight smile and busied myself with fastening the hook on the hem of my dress to the thin gold bracelet fastened around my wrist.

    ¡°We¡¯re ready to have a totally awesome time!¡± Penny announced in greeting.

    ¡°Good, let¡¯s get going,¡± Henri laughed at her enthusiasm.

    Penny and I followed the boys through the apartment lobby and out into the cool day. To my surprise, Erik fell back and offered me his arm as I hobbled unsteadily on wooden shoes. Penny shot me a not-so-subtle look before hurrying forward to catch up with Henri and Harris.

    ¡°How ya doing after yesterday?¡± Erik asked, in a quiet voice.

    ¡°Better,¡± I lied. My earlier conversation with Mac may have confirmed that I had a killer instinct lurking somewhere deep within, but every time I thought about the man in the laboratory on his knees, begging for his life, I felt disgusted with myself. I wasn¡¯t sure if there was valor in revenge, but I did know that there was nothing heroic about what we¡¯d done yesterday. I tried to remedy that by pushing those thoughts to the darkest, cobweb-laden corner of my mind.

    ¡°Good,¡± he answered, with an easy smile. There was no doubt in my mind he knew that I was lying. ¡°You¡¯re going to love the city celebrations,¡± he said, changing the subject. ¡°The floats in the parade are awesome, and the street vendors sell great food. You¡¯re seriously going to love it.¡±

    I¡¯d never seen Erik so animated before. I¡¯d felt his thrill, his fear, his anxiety, and even his self-loathing after he plunged the needle in the scientist¡¯s neck, but never genuine happiness. I smiled, letting his exuberance become my own, my mood lifting until I, too, wanted nothing more than to celebrate Festivis. I listened intently as he babbled on about the festivities during the walk to the hangar and for most of the ride into the city.

    The city celebration was everything he¡¯d promised and more. The streets had been shut down to vehicles, leaving street vendors plenty of room to set up. Our small group, plus Frederick who met us at TOXIC¡¯s city hover-hangar, made our way from one street vendor to the next, stopping to sample the delicacies. I ate pork and pineapple skewers from one, and a caribou dog wrapped in a cornbread bun from the next. Penny and I split candied plums and spiced apples from a dessert vendor, and cashew and pistachio crisps from a nut vendor. Erik insisted I try a bite of his black bear and bean burrito, and despite the feeling that my stomach had already stretched beyond its capacity, I ate half.

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    The exotic food vendors were only outdone by the performers dancing through the streets and the elaborate floats. Each float held a small group of representatives from each state. Even the representatives from the smaller, and usually poorer, states were dressed in their finest silks and satins, with brightly colored jewels adorning their bodies and elaborate head toppers. I marveled as the street performers flipped and tumbled through the air, twirling fire batons and sharp swords.

    The atmosphere in the nation¡¯s capital was lively and energetic. Residents from cities all over the country had come to D.C. to celebrate Festivis. People toasted each other in the streets, randomly hugged and kissed strangers, and broke into off-key verses of the National Anthem.

    The mood was infectious. I was careful not to drink too much of the burning, brown liquor that a drink vendor handed me, but the couple of sips I had spread warmth and happiness through me. Before I knew it, I was dancing and singing off-key with the rest of the celebrants. I wasn¡¯t the only one who appeared to be enjoying themselves; Erik refused to dance with me, but he hooted and hollered as Penny and I danced circles around him. Henri and Frederick were holding hands and singing at the top of their lungs to the District¡¯s state song, which was blasting out of speakers mounted on the buildings. I¡¯d seen Henri relax, and even joke with Erik, but I¡¯d never seen him truly enjoy himself before now. Harris drank several cups of the brown liquor, and kept making excuses to touch Penny¡¯s arm or lean in closer than necessary to whisper in her ear, sending her into fits of giggles. Penny was basking in Harris¡¯ attention, and I loved seeing her so happy.

    When we finally got tired of contending with the street crowds, we ducked into an eatery called Igloo. I recalled Frederick telling us about this place where the entire inside was made of ice, and I was excited to see it firsthand. I was still stuffed from all the food I¡¯d sampled, so I only ordered a hot chocolate. It came out topped with huge, fluffy marshmallows and, at Erik¡¯s insistence, spiked with several shots of cocoa liquor. The boys somehow found room for cold squid noodle salad with beef, cooked carrot skewers, and frosty mugs of beer to wash it all down.

    ¡°I think it¡¯s time I took you girls back,¡± Henri said regretfully to me and Penny after all of the food and drinks were gone.

    ¡°No one will notice if they aren¡¯t back before dark,¡± Harris commented, slurring his words a little bit. He reached over and rubbed his large, calloused hand down Penny¡¯s arm. She let out an excited titter.

    ¡°The Agency notices everything,¡± Frederick said darkly. It was an awkward moment¡ªsomething about the way he said it made me uneasy. I looked around, but nobody else seemed concerned; maybe there¡¯d been too many shots in my hot chocolate.

    ¡°The Director was very clear about wanting them back before dark. I don¡¯t want him taking their privileges,¡± Henri said, giving Frederick a pointed look. Guess I wasn¡¯t the only one who¡¯d noticed his awkward comment.

    In the end, everybody came back with us to Headquarters except Frederick. Henri promised him he¡¯d come back after he dropped us off. Penny disappeared with Harris as soon as we landed. I was a little nervous about letting her go off with him when they¡¯d both been drinking, but she seemed so happy that I didn¡¯t want to burst her bubble. Henri turned right around and headed back to Frederick¡¯s apartment in the city. Erik and I stood together alone outside of the hangar.

    ¡°Walk you back to your room?¡± he asked, offering me his arm.

    I smiled and circled my arm underneath his.

    ¡°Do you think Penny will be okay alone with Harris?¡± I wondered.

    ¡°He¡¯s a good guy, Tals. She¡¯ll be fine.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re a good guy, and I wouldn¡¯t leave a drunken friend alone with you,¡± I teased.

    ¡°I¡¯m offended!¡± Erik bristled. ¡°I¡¯ve always been a perfect gentleman to you.¡±

    ¡°Yes, you have,¡± I agreed quietly, suddenly struck with the thought that I might not want him to be such a gentleman. What is wrong with you? I scolded myself. You just got your heart broken by the boy you¡¯ve been in love with since you were ten. It¡¯s way too soon to be thinking about another guy. But I couldn¡¯t rid myself of the overwhelming amalgam of feelings when I was alone with Erik. In practice I was aware of him, but not like I was aware of him when it was just us¡ªespecially when we were touching.

    ¡°Have fun today?¡± Erik probed, mistaking my sudden change in mood for sadness.

    ¡°I did. It was everything you said it would be.¡± I tried to give him a genuine smile, but when I looked up into his eyes, my stomach muscles tightened so forcefully that I grimaced.

    Erik walked me all the way to my door. He waited patiently while I pressed my palm to the door sensor. The green light came on, indicating the scanner had confirmed my identity. I walked in, looking back over my shoulder when I didn¡¯t feel Erik following.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you want to come in?¡± I asked, trying not to sound too disappointed.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­ I¡¯m still pretty worn out from yesterday. I should turn in early,¡± Erik¡¯s voice was tight.

    ¡°Oh, okay,¡± I nodded, giving him a half smile. I wanted to open my mind to see what he was really thinking, but Erik was the only person I¡¯d ever subconsciously transferred my thoughts and feelings to; I worried if I opened my mind, he could read everything.

    In one quick, fluid motion, Erik moved from the doorway into my room. He wrapped one of his rough hands around the side of my neck, rubbing his thumb along my jaw bone. My breath caught in my throat, and the room started to spin. He placed his other hand on the small of my back, right below the bottom of the V in my dress. I could feel his warm hand through the thin material. He leaned down, his turquoise eyes holding my gaze.

    I bit the inside of my lip so hard that I tasted blood. The pain cleared my head just enough to remember to breathe, preventing me from passing out. I wanted him to kiss me so badly that I could taste the desire, right there mixed with the blood in my mouth. I wanted to know how he felt. I craved the connection and reached out to him mentally. I felt raw desire, so primal that it felt more animal than human. I could hear his mental struggle over whether to kiss me. I wanted to reassure him. I wanted to beg him to kiss me. I wanted to plead with him not to let this moment end. I wanted to tell him so many things.

    The agonizing seconds of anticipation before you dive headfirst off of a cliff are only outdone by the free fall itself. I was done agonizing; I wanted the free fall. Erik tilted my face gently towards his. I closed my eyes as he leaned down, knowing this would be the moment we went over the edge. As Erik touched his lips gently to mine, I felt a crackle of electricity shoot through our lips and straight down to my toes. It was the strongest sensation that I¡¯d ever experienced. Even with everything that Donavon and I had shared, we¡¯d never had a kiss like this. I¡¯d never felt anything like this before.

    Erik abruptly pulled back, and my eyes popped open. He gave me a look I didn¡¯t understand. He leaned back down, but instead of pressing his lips to mine again, he leaned in until his lips were right next to my ear. I thought I was going to faint when his bottom lip brushed my earlobe.

    ¡°Good night, Natalia,¡± he whispered.

    I blinked. His hand was no longer on my back. His thumb gave one last gentle brush across my cheek, smearing something wet, and walked away. I wanted to call after him, but I couldn¡¯t breathe, let alone speak. As if Erik¡¯s hands had been the only thing holding me upright, I sank to the floor immediately. I watched him close the door quietly behind him, not once looking back.

    When he was gone, I wiped my fingers across my cheeks and realized the something wet he¡¯d smeared were my tears. Disappointment washed over me, wrapping my body in a cold embrace. Had I done something wrong? Why did he leave? I felt hollow inside. Why had I cried when he kissed me? I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted it more than I¡¯ve ever wanted anything in my life. Why was I still crying? I didn¡¯t know exactly, and that made me sob harder.

 Chapter Twenty-Seven: The One with the Simulation

    There were still two more days of festivities, but I didn¡¯t feel like going into the city the next morning. Thankfully, Penny was so hungover that she wasn¡¯t feeling up to making the trip either. Instead, we lounged in my room, eating greasy potato pancakes and cheesy eggs for breakfast. Penny delighted in telling me the blow-by-blow of her evening make out session with Harris.

    ¡°He¡¯s totally a good kisser,¡± she said, for the tenth time that morning. I gave her a genuine smile. Penny usually crushed on boys from afar and, while she had a lot of boy friends, she¡¯d never had a boyfriend.

    ¡°I¡¯m glad you had a good time,¡± I replied honestly. I genuinely liked Harris, even if he was one of Donavon¡¯s friends. He¡¯d always been nice to me, and last night, after the initial awkwardness had worn off, he¡¯d treated me like he always had before I destroyed his cabin. Hmmm¡­ I probably wouldn¡¯t blame him if he did think I was a little crazy; sane people didn¡¯t destroy whole structures when they were angry.

    ¡°I did! And he even sent me a message this morning to ask if I wanted to have breakfast. But my head hurt so bad, I totally wasn¡¯t up for getting dressed and doing my hair all cute.¡± I laughed. Penny¡¯s red hair was sticking out every which way, and she still had dirt smudged on her face from rolling around with Harris the night before. She was wearing a thread-bare, standard issue McDonough Athletics t-shirt that I estimated she¡¯d owned since she started at School, and gray sweatpants speckled with nail polish and hair dye.

    ¡°What about later? Are you going to hang out with him tonight?¡± I asked, trying to match her enthusiasm.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know! Should I?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I laughed. ¡°Do you like him?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know! I liked kissing him, does that count?¡±

    ¡°That counts,¡± I confirmed.

    ¡°Did you do anything after we got back?¡± she inquired.

    ¡°No,¡± I said, a little too fast and a little too emphatically. My pulse quickened and my face flushed just thinking of Erik¡¯s hands touching me.

    ¡°I¡¯ll take that as a yes,¡± Penny laughed, flipping from her back to her stomach so she could see my face.

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t a big deal. Erik just walked me to my room.¡± I refused to meet her eyes.

    ¡°And?¡± she pressed, her eyes shining with excitement.

    ¡°And nothing,¡± I replied, trying not to let my voice sound too dejected.

    ¡°But you wanted there to be an ¡®and¡¯.¡± Penny nodded her head knowingly.

    ¡°I think I did.¡± I buried my face in my hands.

    ¡°Are you embarrassed?!¡± Penny exclaimed, her green eyes growing larger. ¡°He¡¯s totally hot. Every girl I know talks about him. Any of them would trade places with you in a second!¡±

    ¡°Why? He barely even kissed me,¡± I whined. Last night, I¡¯d been upset about the situation. Had I done something wrong? I wasn¡¯t the most experienced kisser¡ªDonavon was the only person I¡¯d ever kissed¡ªbut Erik hadn¡¯t even given me a chance to show him the amateur I actually was. Did he not feel the same current of electricity when we touched? The sensation was so overwhelming, I thought for sure that it had to be our combined reactions I felt. Did he regret the kiss? He must. That was the only explanation.

    ¡°Barely?¡± Penny squealed. ¡°Barely kissed you? So he did actually kiss you?¡±

    ¡°Sorta,¡± I muttered, humiliated all over again.

    ¡°How do you ¡®sorta¡¯ kiss somebody? Did his mouth touch yours or not?¡±

    ¡°It sorta did,¡± I mumbled, my breakfast squirming in my stomach, making me wish that I hadn¡¯t eaten so much.

    ¡°What happened after he ¡®sorta¡¯ kissed you?¡± Penny questioned, her expression hungry for every detail.

    ¡°Nothing,¡± I said, clearing my throat.

    ¡°He didn¡¯t say anything? He just left?¡± Penny looked incredulous.

    ¡°Yeah, he just left,¡± I confirmed. ¡°I think he regretted doing it,¡± I added in a small, humiliated voice.

    ¡°He didn¡¯t regret it. Give it time,¡± Penny said wisely.

    ¡°Penny?¡± I asked hesitantly.

    ¡°Hmmm?¡±

    ¡°Can I ask you a question?¡±

    ¡°Totally.¡±

    ¡°Is it wrong to have feelings for Erik? Donavon and I just broke up. It feels wrong.¡±

    ¡°No way, Tal. For starters, you and Donavon broke up like months ago. It¡¯s not too soon to have a crush on Erik. It only feels wrong because you¡¯ve never had a crush on anyone besides Donavon. Trust me. I have crushes on people all the time. You¡¯ll totally get used to it by the third or fourth one.¡±

    Had it really been months since the fight? I guess it had. In the days following the incident, time had slowed until the seconds ticked slowly by like dripping molasses. I even tried to will time to speed up, but to no avail; I guess even my superior powers had limits. Now, looking back, I realized the last several months had flown by. Even so, the emotional and mental lacerations left from Donavon¡¯s betrayal were still stung. Every time I thought the gashes had scabbed over, I remembered that¡­ that blonde, and a dull ache in my chest grew steadily stronger until I thought my heart might explode all over again.

    ¡°Thanks, Penny.¡±

    ***

    Penny returned to her room after breakfast to sleep off her hangover, and I took the opportunity to make good on my promise to Mac. I headed to the workout arena and spent the afternoon training with the simulator. I set the simulator to ¡°random¡± and pulled on an adapti-suit and a Sim headset. The Sim headset had an ear piece and goggles. The ear piece acted like a team leader, feeding me audio instructions regarding the randomly selected Sim scenario. The eye goggles kept scrolling coordinates of my location within the Sim scenario and kept track of mission statistics. Henri once told me that the simulator is programmed with over a thousand different Sim scenarios; despite my best efforts, I only made it through four.

    After my afternoon with the simulator, I headed to the indoor target range and set up a handful of practice dummies. I intended to rotate through the targets, alternating between knives, a scoped rifle, and a handgun. Throwing knives has always been my specialty; knives were far easier than bullets for me to control with my mind.

    The weightless tungsten carbide blade, in contrast with the heavy steel handle, felt natural, like an extension of my own small hand. I closed my eyes, envisioning the space just slightly to the right of center on the target¡¯s chest. I released the knife in my left hand first, directing the dagger blade-over-handle as it twirled through the air and sank deep into its mark. I liberated the one in my right hand just as the first made contact. I summoned two more knives that had been lying by my left foot. I didn¡¯t wait this time, launching both simultaneously. I beckoned the next two, and let them both fly the instant my fingers closed around the cool handles. When I finally opened my eyes again, ten knife handles protruded from the dummy¡¯s chest, the blades embedded to the hilt. Satisfaction washed over me.

    I held my left hand out to my side, parallel to the ground, and bid the rifle to rise. The heavy barrel sailed towards my outstretched palm. My fingers curled delicately around the cylindrical shaft as I tapped the orange glasses from the top of my head down onto the bridge of my nose. I ran my finger over the sensor on the sidepiece, activating the simulated targets. In the same motion, I tossed the gun lightly in the air, catching it in my left hand, my index finger sliding neatly onto the trigger, and the butt of the gun landing heavily on my left shoulder. A little showy, I know, but what I lacked in actual skill, I liked to make up for in finesse. Reaching for the barrel with my right hand, I cupped the bottom to steady the rifle. Squinting with one eye, I peered through the sight with the other. I pulled the trigger ten times in fast succession as ten Sim targets danced across my vision. Several of the targets disintegrated, but over half were still standing when I dropped the gun against my left side. I touched the sensor on the sidepiece again, and my Sim statistics digitally appeared on the left lens. Kills: 4. Wounded: 3. Misses: 3. Overall score: 55%. Yeah, I sucked.

    I hit the sensor a third time and a countdown appeared on my left lens, counting down from ten. I extended my right arm, calling a handgun resting close by, while I tossed the rifle to the floor with my left. The handgun flew through the air, landing hard against my palm. In the same motion, I brought my left hand to grip the opposite side of the pistol handle. A ¡°1¡± appeared on my lens, and I readied myself to fire. I breathed evenly, in and out, in and out. Focus. I concentrated on each bullet as it spun through the rifled barrel of my gun, trying to guide the bullet¡¯s trajectory towards the intended victim. I felt the bullet explode through the end as the gun powder residue blew back, coating my white knuckled hands. Once I emptied the entire clip, I lowered the handgun and hit the sensor to display my Sim statistics. Kills: 3. Wounded: 7. Misses: 0. Overall Score: 65%. Slightly better, but nowhere near good enough. Feeling only slightly dejected, I reloaded.

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    I poured myself into bed sometime after midnight. I couldn¡¯t muster the energy to shower, so I settled for peeling off my workout clothes; damp with sweat and reeking of gunshot residue.

    I woke up early the next morning, feeling a renewed sense of purpose and determination. I pulled on black mesh tennis shoes and headed to the woods as fast as my short legs would carry me. I performed sensory honing drills as I ran, cycling from one sense to the next without skipping a beat. I could still hear Mac¡¯s words pulsing in my head, as though he were running alongside me, screaming in my ear. Do you still want to be a Hunter, Natalia? I ran harder. If you fail your solo mission, I won¡¯t be able to save you. I ran harder. You have two choices, Natalia. Revenge, I screamed to myself. I pushed harder. Do you want your parents¡¯ deaths to be for nothing, Natalia? My chest constricted, and my lungs seared until they felt as though they might burst. I willed my body to outrun Mac¡¯s words. Erik hadn¡¯t sent me a message or come to see me the day before, not that I actually thought he would. Regardless, I would have to see him the following day. While I was still confused and hurt over what happened several nights ago, I really wanted to see him. The feelings I was developing for Erik were so different, so much more intense, than my feelings for Donavon, that I was starting to wonder if I¡¯d ever truly loved him. I felt as if I hated Donavon but could I really hate him if I¡¯d never loved him? After all, hate is love¡¯s counterpart, right? At seventeen, did I actually know what love meant? I know that I knew hate; I hated the man who was behind my parents¡¯ murders. I¡¯d loved them; the type of all-consuming, unconditional love that you only feel for those who share your blood.

    I couldn¡¯t wrap my head around all of this and it hurt to even try. If it weren¡¯t for my feelings for Erik, I never would¡¯ve doubted the feelings I¡¯d had for Donavon. Even though we were young, I¡¯d thought Donavon and I were family. We¡¯d shared so much. He¡¯d been the first person to like me, let alone say that they loved me. Now, I was left wondering if any part of it had been real.

    Instead of going back to my room after my run, I jogged straight to the practice arena. I had programmed five Sim scenarios at random before I suited up, purposely choosing scenarios that listed firearms as necessary weapons. I strapped the knife belt around my hips, holstered two handguns to my thighs, and slung the strap of a scoped rifle across my chest. I caught a glimpse of my reflection in a glass-paneled wall and jumped back, unnerved by the steely-eyed soldier staring back at me.

    As soon as I walked onto the arena floor, the lights slowly dimmed until I was left standing in total darkness. I lowered the Sim glasses into place and tapped my ear piece, causing it to activate. A fluorescent white light appeared overhead as the Sim scenario materialized around me. I found myself in a dimly-lit hallway, with water trickling down the cement walls. I ran one gloved finger horizontally across the stream; my finger, safely ensconced in the soft leather, felt wet when I pulled it away.

    ¡°End of the hallway, make a right,¡± a mechanical voice said into my right ear. I took off at a jog, expanding my senses as I went. The Sim scenarios were often more difficult for me than a real hunt; I had to rely on normal, albeit superiorly trained, senses to guide me. I couldn¡¯t feel the minds of the opponents in the scenario because they were holographic images and not real people. Fortunately, the holograms still made noise when they moved, so I heard the two men before they rounded the corner at the end of the hallway. I dropped low into a crouch and reached for the gun strapped to my right thigh. I didn¡¯t hesitate before I pulled the trigger once, moved the gun millimeters to the left, and fired again. Both holograms fragmented before breaking down completely. I straightened, and covered the distance to the end of the hallway in record time. I turned to the right and slowed slightly, waiting for my next instruction.

    ¡°Third door on left. Proceed to the top of the staircase and turn right,¡± the mechanical voice said.

    The mission statistics started scrolling in front of my left eye. Disposed: 2. Remaining: 20. Ammunition: 95%. Time remaining: 28:04. Target: Unacquired. Health: 100%.

    I¡¯d just passed the second door on my left when I heard the soft thud of footfalls behind me. I spun on one foot and reached down to my knife belt, grabbing a handle in each hand. As I turned, I dropped down to my knee, releasing the knives. Both blades struck the lead hologram, and he crumbled into nothingness. The two men behind him kept coming for me, and I grabbed for the gun that was snug against my right leg. I wasn¡¯t fast enough. Both men squeezed their triggers, several rounds hurling toward me in the narrow corridor. I fell backwards, flattening myself against the hard ground and blindly returned their fire.

    Unlike in real life, I couldn¡¯t mentally stop these bullets because they weren¡¯t bullets at all¡ªthey were electrical impulses. If one struck me, my suit would register the hit and fire tiny, painful electrical impulses into the injured area until the simulation ended. One of the holograms¡¯ bullets found my right shoulder and I felt the tell-tale shocks attacking my skin. The bullet must have only skimmed me because the impulses didn¡¯t penetrate my muscles, but remained superficial. It still hurt.

    I cocked my head to the left and fired my gun again, squeezing off six quick rounds into the holograms. Both flickered and then disappeared. I scrambled to my feet and took off in the direction I¡¯d been going before the interruption. The mission statistics flashed again. Disposed: 5. Remaining: 17. Ammunition: 80%. Time remaining: 25:04. Target: Unacquired. Health: 95%.

    I pushed open the third door on the left. The stairwell inside was pitch-black. I felt the stairs under my feet, rather than seeing them. I misjudged the height of the first step and banged my shin hard against the lip of the second. I swore loudly. I cautiously climbed the remaining stairs, and pushed open the door on the landing. I stumbled noisily through the doorway, and into a brightly-lit meeting room. Five holographic men sat around a conference table. Their heads snapped toward the door in unison. Crap. If I¡¯d been quicker, I might have been able to creep silently along the length of the wall without being noticed. I did a quick sweep of the room. Two armed men stood several feet back from the table, one on each side, blocking the exits. A huge glass window was on the opposite side of the table from where I stood.

    One of the exit guards raised his huge gun and fired. I dropped to my knees and covered my head as shards of holographic wood rained down from the splintered door I¡¯d just come through. The second guard raised his gun to fire. I tucked and rolled as the ground exploded where I¡¯d just been kneeling. I felt a deep shock in my left arm as one of the guards¡¯ holographic bullets found a home in my bicep. The electric pulses cut all the way down to the bone, rendering my left arm useless. Gritting my teeth against the unpleasant sensation, I gripped the handle of a gun with my right hand and fired toward the guard on my left. I mentally yanked three knives from my hips, and sent them whooshing through the air towards the right guard. Both guards fell to pieces within seconds of one another. The men at the table appeared unarmed. Not a threat, I decided. I darted to my right in a low crouch, through the now clear door. I rose to my feet and flattened myself against one of the walls, waiting for my next instruction.

    ¡°Turn right. Target: end of hallway,¡± the mechanical voice informed me.

    The mission statistics obscured my left eye¡¯s view: Disposed: 7. Remaining: 15. Ammunition: 65%. Time remaining: 19:52. Target: In sight. Health: 75%.

    I sprinted for the door at the end of the corridor, cradling my left arm to my chest as the electrical impulses fired repeatedly. I wanted to bust the door down mentally, but I knew that wouldn¡¯t work. When I reached it several seconds later, I turned the knob with my right hand¡ªlocked. Of course it was. I flashed to a different mission, a real mission, where the knob had refused to turn. I shook my head to clear my thoughts. I raised my right arm above my head, clenched my hand into a tight fist, and steeled myself against the impending impact. I brought my elbow down as hard as I could on the knob. I heard a sharp crack and felt pain radiate outward from my funny bone. Ugh, that hurt worse than I¡¯d anticipated. I looked down; the holographic door knob was dangling uselessly and the door was slightly ajar. I pushed it open the rest of the way and stepped into the room.

    A scientist stood behind a table full of beakers and brightly colored vials. Was this really happening? I shook my head again. It was like d¨¦j¨¤ vu, except I knew that this had actually happened. I gritted my teeth and raised my throbbing right arm, pointing the gun at level to the scientist¡¯s chest.

    ¡°Kill,¡± the mechanical voice ordered.

    Icy fear pumped through my veins for the first time since starting the simulation. I hadn¡¯t intended to program any kill scenarios. I swallowed over the lump in my throat. The man held up his hands in surrender. His head was bent when I walked into the room, but now he raised it until his hard, gray eyes met mine. He looked nothing like the balding man from my actual mission. He actually reminded me a little of Mac. I sneered at him before pulling the trigger, without hesitation. I fired a single shot. It buried itself in the space between his knitted eyebrows; he then disintegrated.

    ¡°Vacate the premises to complete the mission,¡± the mechanical voice ordered.

    Several inches in front of my right lens a floor plan of the simulation appeared, ¡°X¡±s marking the exits. The closest one was back in the conference room. I spun on my heel and tore from the room.

    Disposed: 8. Remaining: 14. Ammunition: 62%. Time remaining: 14:52. Target: Acquired/Deceased. Health: 55%.

    I weighed my options. Fourteen potential combatants remained in the simulation. I could barely move my left arm and my right arm throbbed. My fingers were twitching too much to get off any more steady shots. I needed to reach the nearest exit and get out if I wanted to complete this mission successfully.

    I retraced the steps I¡¯d taken just minutes before, and found myself back in the now empty conference room. I tapped the side of my glasses to bring up the floor plan with the marked exits again. I reached out and tapped on the ¡°X¡± that marked an exit in the conference room. A different floor plan, only of the room that I was now standing in, took shape in front of my right eye. The ¡°X¡± was on the huge picture window. I walked over to the window and looked out. The room I was in appeared to be thirty stories high, maybe more, overlooking a city I thought might be D.C. I wasted several long moments contemplating my next move. I was actually still in the practice arena, not thirty stories above the nation¡¯s capital. Therefore, if I did jump out this window, my fall would not be nearly as far as it looked. I also knew I was probably on the top level of the practice arena, and jumping out of this window would, in reality, still be a solid five-story fall.

    Footsteps pounded up the stairs from the basement behind me. I made a snap decision. I wasn¡¯t strong enough to fight off any more attackers. I fired the remaining bullets in my gun at the window, my hand shaking so badly that I was glad my target took up an entire wall. The holographic glass shattered in front of me. The footsteps grew louder. I backed up several feet, took one last deep breath, and sprinted the short distance across the conference room, throwing myself through the broken window.

    I let the glorious rush of adrenaline engulf me for several seconds before I mentally slowed my falling body, floating the rest of the way to the arena floor. I landed on my back with a soft thud. The Sim scenario evaporated around me as the lights in the arena came back on. I waited for my final mission statistics.

    Final Statistics: Disposed: 8. Remaining: 14. Ammunition: 53%. Time remaining: 10:31. Target: Acquired/Deceased. Health: 55%. Overall Score: 86%. Overall Rank in Accordance with Attempts: 1/2136 attempts. I beamed. Not too bad, I thought, smiling to myself. Not too bad at all.

    When I finally returned to my room that night, my body ached from the physical abuse. My mind buzzed from the strain of a day full of mental commands: directing bullets and knives in multiple Sim scenarios. Despite all of that, I felt alive, invigorated, and most of all, happily exhausted.

    Mac was right about one thing: my solo mission, also known as ¡°the¨Cmission¨CI¨Cneeded¨Cto¨Ccomplete¨Cbefore¨CI¨Ccould-graduate,¡± would be coming up soon. I decided to continue my early morning runs and sensory training, even when our regular training schedule resumed after the holiday.

 Chapter Twenty-Eight: The One where Revenge Dreams Become Reality

    Erik treated me as if the kiss had never happened. That, of course, brought on a rush of fresh worries. He definitely regretted kissing me. Maybe I¡¯d misinterpreted the entire situation? Maybe he¡¯d never actually wanted to kiss me to begin with. Except, I¡¯d read his feelings right out of his mind, and he had wanted to kiss me. Had I been too drunk to read his mind correctly? Maybe I¡¯d projected my feelings of desire onto him; maybe he¡¯d only thought he wanted to kiss me.

    I spoke to Penny at length about the situation. I was so used to keeping everything bottled up inside, it felt good to have a friend I could talk to about everything. We obsessed over every interaction between me and Erik, trying to decide what it meant. Penny gave me suggestions on ¡°playing it cool¡±; she urged me to act as disinterested as he seemed. That was easier said than done. I didn¡¯t want to be disinterested. I wanted to dig into his head and find out exactly what he was thinking. Penny thought that might make me appear a little desperate, or, even worse, psychotic. Unfortunately, I felt a little desperate and maybe a little crazy, too. Erik¡¯s indifference was infuriating.

    Likewise, we dissected every interaction Penny had with Harris. The two had been hanging out regularly since Festivis. Unfortunately, I was much less experienced when it came to dating than Penny, so I provided little insight into their encounters. Mostly, I just listened, and made the appropriate responses to her musings. But I did assure her that he was genuinely a nice guy. His dating history wasn¡¯t as colorful as Erik¡¯s¡ªprobably a check in the plus column for him¡ªand I¡¯d hung out with a few girls he¡¯d dated over the years, always getting the impression he treated them well.

    I was happy Penny was enjoying her time with Harris, but it also made me uneasy to know she was spending time with Donavon. I couldn¡¯t help but envy Penny¡¯s interactions with him. It wasn¡¯t a lot of time, and I wasn¡¯t ready to see him, but it still felt awkward that she was around him. I never told her about my feelings, and she was careful not to mention what little interaction that she did have with him.

    Several weeks after the holiday, I returned from my morning run to a Comm from Mac. All that he said was to meet him in the main building before today¡¯s practice. I had a feeling that I knew what the meeting was about: my solo mission. Graduation was only a month away, and with no communication about my solo mission, I¡¯d started getting anxious. Every day, I asked Henri if he¡¯d heard anything, but he seemed just as uneasy as I was about the lack of communication. Many of the pledges had already completed their solo missions and were now able to relax, knowing they were going to graduate.

    Solo missions were assigned by Mac and Captain Alvarez. Supposedly, the missions weren¡¯t assigned in any particular order, but I¡¯d kind of expected Mac to give me mine earlier, rather than later. Although, given our last few less-than-friendly interactions, I presumed he was making me squirm on purpose; saving my assignment until so close to graduation.

    I felt a mixture of relief and apprehension as I showered and changed in record time. I literally ran out of my room. Impatient, I jabbed at the elevator button as if that would make it arrive faster. Once inside, I hit the button for the first floor, repeatedly pushing it to close the doors until they slid soundlessly shut. My entire body vibrated with anticipation and nerves. This was it. Finally, I was going to prove myself, prove to all of my doubters that I belonged here, and verify that Mac and Henri¡¯s confidence in me wasn¡¯t unfounded.

    When the elevator came to a stop in the lobby, I didn¡¯t bother waiting for the doors to open completely. Instead, I slid sideways through the gap, and took off toward the main building.

    ¡°I¡¯m here to see Mac,¡± I panted, informing the receptionist.

    ¡°Excuse me, dear?¡± the middle-aged brunette smiled, looking up from her computer.

    ¡°Sorry, I meant Director McDonough. I¡¯m here to see Director McDonough,¡± I said, impetuously.

    ¡°And who should I say is wishing to speak with him, dear?¡± her plastered-on smile irked me further.

    ¡°Natalia Lyons. He¡¯s expecting me,¡± I tapped my foot impatiently as she pressed a button on her panel Communicator, informing Mac that I was here.

    ¡°Follow me, dear,¡± she motioned, getting up from her desk.

    ¡°No need, I know the way.¡± I waved her off. I took the stairs to Mac¡¯s office two at a time. Grabbing the knob of the thick, wooden door bearing his nameplate, I paused briefly. Tension rolled through the closed door. I opened my mind. Mac wasn¡¯t alone. Captain Alvarez and Henri were in the room, too. I should¡¯ve expected as much; Henri was my team leader and Captain Alvarez was the leader of the Hunters. What I didn¡¯t understand was why the atmosphere was so tense. Solo missions were a normal ending to the pledge program.

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    Suddenly, an awful thought occurred to me. What if this weren¡¯t about my solo mission? What if I¡¯d done something wrong? What if I were in trouble? Mac knew I¡¯d broken down after our kill hunt, but the official report stated I¡¯d been the one who actually performed the kill. What if they knew I hadn¡¯t been able to go through with it myself? That Erik had to do it for me? Was that why I hadn¡¯t been given my solo assignment yet?

    Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and braced myself before turning the knob. The men were talking in low voices, but grew quiet, all three heads turning in unison toward me, when I entered.

    ¡°Natalia, please come in. Take a seat,¡± Mac greeted me, motioning to the empty chair between Henri and Captain Alvarez.

    ¡°Mac. Captain. Henri.¡± I nodded to each in turn as I walked slowly to my chair.

    Henri looked uncomfortable, wringing his hands in his lap and clenching his jaw. I opened up my mind and quickly scanned his: he was more than uncomfortable, he was scared. He kept repeating, over and over in his head: this is wrong, this is wrong. My blood ran cold. I was in trouble.

    Carefully, I sat on the edge of the empty seat. ¡°You wanted to see me?¡± I asked Mac, swallowing over the lump that had materialized in my throat.

    ¡°Yes, Natalia. As you are aware, you need to complete a solo mission prior to graduation.¡±

    I sighed heavily, my body sagging with relief¡ªthank goodness this was about the solo mission. I nodded my understanding.

    ¡°The Crypto Bank received some intel last night about Ian Crane.¡±

    I froze. Mac paused and looked directly into my eyes, searching for understanding. Somehow, I managed to nod jerkily. We both knew that I knew who Ian Crane was. Ian Crane¡¯s men had been the ones to invade the hotel and kill my parents. Ian Crane was the name that had kept me awake at night as a child. Ian Crane was the name that I equated with revenge. Ian Crane was the faceless man that I pictured every time I killed a hologram in the Sim scenario. I would not hesitate to kill Ian Crane.

    ¡°Ian Crane and his family are arriving in Las Vegas in a week. I need you to go to Vegas, get into the compound where the Cranes are staying, and gather as much intel as you can. I want pictures; picture of everything that you can get your hands on; pictures of every single person that Ian Crane meets with; pictures of every member of his family,¡± Mac¡¯s voice rose an octave with every statement. ¡°And if you get an opportunity, I want you to kill Crane.¡± Since Mac added the last part mentally, I figured it wasn¡¯t part of the official assignment.

    No wonder the tension in the room was so thick; this mission was not an ordinary solo hunt¡ªit was huge and extremely dangerous. Ian Crane was rarely, if ever, out in public. He spent most of his time on heavily guarded compounds, much like Elite Headquarters and the School¡¯s grounds. He seldom spent any time in a city where he would be vulnerable to attack. Mac lived in a similar manner. All of TOXIC¡¯s facilities were heavily guarded, even more so when Mac was around. He never stayed more than a night or two in any city, and he traveled with a specialized guard of Agency operatives.

    ¡°What exactly am I supposed to do?¡± I squeaked.

    ¡°This will not be a stealth mission. You will find one of his men and convince him to bring you to the compound. You¡¯ll need to keep up this cover for as long as possible. You¡¯ll fill the man¡¯s head with whatever is necessary to keep him happy; just be sure that he continues to take you into the compound and that he does so without attracting too much attention to either of you.¡±

    The lump in my throat had grown so large that I nearly choked on my spit when I tried to swallow. I¡¯d never actually been trained in deception. Controlling a man¡¯s will was dangerous and consumed a great deal of mental energy. Hopefully, I could find a weak-willed victim. Mac must really believe in me if he¡¯s willing to take such a big risk, I thought. Pride filled me, nearly seeping out of my pores. I had no doubt that I should be concerned about the dangers, but just then, I didn¡¯t really care. Mac¡¯s approval meant the world to me, and if he were willing to take the risk, then so was I.

    ¡°TOXIC is already arranging an apartment in the city for you; you¡¯ll be based there during the mission. Over the next week, techies will be here to outfit you with the latest technology that we have to offer. I trust that you understand how important this mission is? And why you were chosen?¡±

    I nodded. I definitely knew how important this mission was. Part of the problem with The Coalition was that, outside of Ian Crane, TOXIC didn¡¯t really know who the leaders were. Ian Crane was the figurehead, but there had to be plenty of other decision-makers. If The Agency could take out the leaders of The Coalition, we could make major headway in ending this war and reunifying the country.

    I also knew why I¡¯d been chosen. This couldn¡¯t be a stealth mission¡ªit was unlikely that anyone could successfully get by the security around the Crane¡¯s residence. Given that, someone who could control other people¡¯s minds, someone who could to talk her way in to the complex was necessary: Me.

    ¡°Good,¡± Mac continued. ¡°Until then, you will practice with your team as usual, unless I send you a Comm to the contrary. Henri will excuse you whenever it¡¯s necessary: so that you can acquaint yourself with the tech you will be using, or review any intel the Cryptos are able to gather.¡±

    My eyes shifted to Henri. He gave me a tight smile and a small nod that I thought was supposed to be reassuring.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to keep you from practice any longer,¡± Mac dismissed us.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± I said quietly, getting up from my chair. Henri stood next to me and gave a small nod to both Mac and the Captain. He placed one of his large hands on my back, gently guiding me out of the room.

    Henri kept his arm wrapped tightly around me the entire way to the practice arena, but remained mute. I didn¡¯t need to read his mind to know that he thought this was a suicide mission. When I did read his mind, I could tell that he was not only shocked, but angry that Mac would put me, of all people, in such a dangerous position. He was also chiding himself for not speaking up. I didn''t blame him. No one talked back to Mac, especially when it came to TOXIC-related issues. Not even me.

 Chapter Twenty-Nine: The One with Questionable Academic Morals

    There was no doubt in my mind that Mac cared a lot about me, but Mac also cared a lot about TOXIC, ending the war, and reuniting the Nation. The Coalition¡¯s influence grew every day. My recent missions with Henri and Erik had proven that; we¡¯d been sent to disband way too many rallies in recent months. Despite that, I firmly believed that Mac wouldn¡¯t risk my life. He was confident in my abilities, and that I¡¯d be able to use my mental manipulation to gain access to Crane¡¯s complex. Once inside, he had faith that I could elicit the information he wanted from the necessary minds, and gather all of the data that he needed.

    Part of me was terrified about the upcoming mission; I¡¯d be a fool not to be scared. Still, the rest of me was bursting with satisfaction at being selected. A mission of this importance would almost never go to a team with a pledge, let alone be assigned as a solo mission. Sure, I might feel a lot more confident about my chances at success if this were a normal team hunt, but a team would draw too much attention. One lone girl would appear less threatening, and was less likely to cause alarm.

    It was obvious that Erik already knew about my solo mission the instant we walked into the practice arena. The look on his face told me exactly how he felt about it; he was even less pleased than Henri. The practice was intense, charged with unspoken anger (Erik), anxiety (Henri), and nerves (me).

    I stuck to my now daily routine and headed to the target range after our practice. To my surprise, Henri joined me, quietly correcting minor issues with my technique and stance. Patiently, he coached me through Sim scenarios using our mental communication. He was doing it because he was worried about me. He didn¡¯t honestly think I was ready for such an assignment, but I wasn¡¯t offended. He was probably right. But I had one week to become ready; I had no choice.

    The following day, a techie from one of TOXIC¡¯s special Technology Development Division arrived at Headquarters. I left practice early to spend the afternoon familiarizing myself with the equipment. Techno Talents, or techies, had an unquantified gift for technology. They could develop and configure any type of technological device. The techies spent all of their time at TOXIC. Research and Development facilities, developing new technologies and ways to implement them in the field.

    The techie¡¯s name was Blaine, and he told me he¡¯d graduated from the McDonough School ten years before. His almost entirely gray head of hair, and the deep creases at the corners of his muddy-brown eyes, made him look much older than his twenty-eight years. He¡¯d been stationed at the main techie outpost outside Philadelphia since graduation.  He was married with three children, only one of which exhibited any talent thus far. His eldest son Brine, the Talent, would be starting at the School the following year.

    Blaine began by giving me a pair of eyeball lenses, and I carefully put one in each eye. Every time that I blinked, a tiny imager affixed to the surface of the lens would take a picture. Once I took all of the pictures that I wanted, I was to put the lens into a special compartment on a handheld Communicator. The pictures would instantly upload, and I could view them on the small display screen. Admittedly, the lenses were pretty cool.

    Next, Blaine handed me a second set of lenses that were loaded with facial recognition software. One lens scanned facial features and if the person were in TOXIC¡¯s database, all of their information appeared on the display surface of the other lens. Blaine had me walk around Headquarters to practice using them. I quickly learned that I was going to need a lot of practice. In order to scan a person¡¯s facial features, I had to get a straight-on view of their face. At first, I only managed to scan every fourth person. The really tricky part came when I did scan somebody¡¯s face and their information popped up on my other lens. Trying to read the information with one eye, while still walking and scanning with the other eye, was next to impossible. I kept walking into things, but Blaine promised me that we¡¯d work with the lenses every day until I departed.

    That evening, I poured over the first pieces of intel that the Cryptos had compiled. Penny was part of the team that had intercepted the initial communications about Ian Crane¡¯s visit to Nevada. She offered to help me go through the material. Gratefully, I accepted her assistance. I might be proud, but I wasn¡¯t arrogant. I needed all of the help I could get.

    We¡¯d just ordered room service and were sitting with the intel spread across my purple carpet, when we heard a knock at the door. It was way too soon to be our food, so I opened my mind to see who was there. I gave Penny a huge smile; It was Henri and Erik.

    ¡°Thought I was supposed to do all the prep work alone?¡± I called, mentally opening the door for them. Technically, it was a violation for pledges to receive outside assistance when preparing for their solo assignment. Penny¡¯s face reddened; she knew that she could get in a lot of trouble for helping.

    ¡°Everybody cheats.¡± Erik grinned. ¡°Obviously, you¡¯re not above it since you seem to already have help,¡± he nodded his head in Penny¡¯s direction, and she blushed even deeper.

    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    ¡°This is a suicide mission for a pledge. I¡¯m not letting you go there unprepared,¡± Henri explained, folding his extremely long legs under him as he plopped down on the floor next to me.

    ¡°Thanks,¡± I smiled at both of them. I might not be able to have them with me in Nevada, but having them here now would still do me some good.

    The four of us worked well into the night. I could barely hold my eyes open when Henri finally declared the night¡¯s session over. Technically, since it was my solo mission, I should be the one calling the shots, but I was so overwhelmed that I was happy to submit to his authority.

    Erik lingered after Penny and Henri left. He lounged on my bed looking perfectly at ease in its mass of purple and white. When I saw him sitting there, I suddenly wasn¡¯t tired anymore. Erik patted the bed next to him, and my head filled with the sound of my heart ricocheting off my ribcage. I climbed onto my bed and sat next to him. He wrapped one arm around my shoulders, and I leaned my head against his chest. He rubbed his stubbly cheek against my hair while absently tugging on one of my curls.

    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry,¡± he whispered after a moment.

    ¡°For what?¡± Of all the sentiments that I¡¯d expected him to express right then, sorrow wasn¡¯t one of them.

    ¡°Tals, this mission is really dangerous. A pledge shouldn¡¯t be doing this. You shouldn¡¯t be doing this for your solo mission. I¡¯m sorry this happened to you. That you were chosen.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not,¡± my voice was strained, but I meant what I said. I wasn¡¯t sorry that Mac had picked me. This mission was important, and I was the only one that could do it. I felt a certain delight in that fact. ¡°I¡¯ll be okay, Erik. You¡¯ll see. I can do this.¡±

    ¡°I know you can, Tals, but that doesn¡¯t mean you should.¡± I opened my mind and could feel his trepidation. Unlike Henri who thought that I wasn¡¯t ready, Erik believed that I was capable, but he was terrified of all the ¡°what if¡¯s¡±. His level of concern elated me. His arm tightened around me, so I scooted closer to him. I wanted to will him to stay with me like this, holding me all night. I didn¡¯t feel safe with him the way I had with Donavon; I felt something that I liked even more. I felt reckless and out of control around Erik¡ªand it thrilled me. I wanted to be close to him so bad that it hurt. I didn¡¯t trust myself when I was near him, but I did trust Erik. I trusted him with my life, and I wanted to trust him with¡­ well, more.

    ¡°I should go,¡± Erik mumbled into my hair.

    ¡°No!¡± I said, more forcefully than I¡¯d intended. ¡°Will you just stay for a little longer?¡± My voice sounded whiny, but I didn¡¯t really care.

    ¡°Are you sure?¡± he asked, uncertainly.

    I nodded.

    Erik kicked off his leather sandals, lying back on my pillows. I curled up into a small ball facing him.

    ¡°Do you want to talk about it?¡± Erik asked, reaching over to smooth my hair away from my face. His fingers brushed against my cheek, sending shivers through my whole body.

    ¡°The mission? No, not really,¡± I shook my head. The mission was the last thing that I wanted to talk about right then.

    ¡°Are you scared?¡± he asked in a soft voice.

    ¡°Yes,¡± I answered without thinking. Of course, I was scared.

    ¡°Good, fear is good. It¡¯ll keep you on your toes. It¡¯ll keep you alive.¡± He pulled me to him, and I buried my face in his chest. I inhaled his earthy scent, reveling in the soft fabric of his t-shirt against my cheek. Unlike my own erratic heartbeat, Erik¡¯s was steady and strong. He was probably used to lying in bed with members of the opposite sex. Either that or he really didn¡¯t have romantic feelings for me. The thought made me shiver, goosebumps springing up on my exposed arms. Instinctively, Erik rubbed his hands up and down my skin, instantly transforming my flesh from icy cold to searing hot.

    I wanted him to kiss me, even more than I had the other night, but I was content just to have him hold me. The pounding of my pulse and the buzzing in my mind weren¡¯t going to let me sleep, but I closed my eyes anyway. Erik moved his hands from my arms to my back, gently massaging away all the knots of tension. He tickled the back of my neck with his fingertips, and I giggled into his chest. I wasn¡¯t sure if he meant to tease me, but that¡¯s what it felt like. When I couldn¡¯t stand it anymore, I looked up at him, my eyes locked to his. I pulled myself up so we were face-to-face. His beautiful eyes were indecisive, so I made the decision for him. Risking rejection and humiliation, I leaned in and pressed my mouth to his. His lips were soft, tasting fresh and clean.

    He was surprised at first and didn¡¯t kiss me back. I panicked. Ashamed, I blushed and pulled away. My earlier misgivings returned, and I tried to scramble even further back on the bed. Our eyes met again, and he tightened his arms around me, pulling me to him. He crushed his mouth to mine once again. A small moan escaped me, and he kissed me harder, deeper. I dug my fingers into his biceps and felt his muscles flex. I clung to Erik, convinced that if I let him go, this moment would end. I never wanted it to end.

    When we finally broke apart, I couldn¡¯t catch my breath. I could feel my chest rising and falling so fast that it hurt, but in a good way. I could feel Erik¡¯s heart pounding along with my own. He gently placed one of his hands on my chest, just above my heart, which only made my breath more erratic. He rewarded me with a mischievous grin. He kissed me again, so softly that his lips just barely made contact with my own. I melted into him again, my whole body going limp against his.

    ¡°I should go now,¡± he sighed.

    ¡°Why?¡± I demanded, once again scared that he might regret kissing me.

    ¡°Because you need your sleep and if I stay too much longer, you won¡¯t get any,¡± he chuckled. Relaxing, I grinned at him. He wasn¡¯t sorry he¡¯d kissed me. Delight coursed through me at the realization. His eyes were still twinkling with desire.

    He brushed his soft lips across both my cheeks and my forehead before climbing over me and out of bed. He pulled my quilt up, tucking it around my body. He leaned down and gave me one last, lingering kiss before whispering, ¡°Night, Tals.¡±

 Chapter Thirty: The One without His Origin Story

    The next day, it was back to business as usual. Erik treated me just the same as any other. I¡¯d been nervous about seeing him, but his nonchalant attitude both frustrated me and put me at ease. I didn¡¯t need him to walk into the practice arena and kiss me good morning¡ªthat would¡¯ve been weird¡ªbut I also didn¡¯t want him acting as if nothing had changed between us. Our relationship had shifted, become more intimate.

    If Henri suspected anything, he didn¡¯t let on. He pushed me harder in practice, making me repeat every move until he was satisfied. At the firing range, he forced me to run through the Sim targeting schemes, over and over, until I managed to fire kill shots each and every time. He barked orders into my head during each Sim, restarting the scenario if I made a mistake. I didn¡¯t want to appear ungrateful, but I was concerned that if he kept pushing me this hard I might have a breakdown before the week was over.

    Blaine¡¯s techniques were much gentler. He patiently led me throughout the compound with my lenses, praising me when I managed to snap solid pictures of the passersby. He didn¡¯t even complain when I stepped on his feet. When I apologized, he assured me that I wasn¡¯t the only person to have so much difficulty. He was so nice, almost too nice, and I felt bad for being so abysmal at it. I almost missed Henri¡¯s tough love approach by the end of our session.

    After my exhaustive day of physical and mental abuse, I wanted to slip between my comforter and sheets and never come back out. Unfortunately, that wasn¡¯t a viable option. Penny, Erik, and Henri were already waiting outside my door when I emerged from my quick shower. I tried not to grumble when I answered the door. At least they brought dinner. Once again, the four of us worked well into the night, analyzing intel, pouring over floor plans, and outlining different strategies. By the end of our session, my eyes were glazed over, and a dull throbbing had developed in the base of my skull. Even Penny¡¯s normally happy-go-lucky attitude had diminished over the course of the evening. When she said goodnight, her voice was strained and tired. Henri¡¯s eyelids were drooping, and his shoulders were hunched when he rose to leave. Erik stayed behind for a few minutes.

    I sat on the edge of my bed. Erik stood in-between my knees, his hands kneading the knotted muscles in my shoulders.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to distract you right now. I know how much you need to focus,¡± he said, leaning down to kiss the side of my neck.

    Closing my eyes, I reveled in the way his mouth moved over my skin. He was right, but I actually had to bite my tongue to keep from begging him to distract me. Despite the words of caution, Erik¡¯s lips moved slowly to my jawbone, before gently closing around my bottom lip. Falling onto my back, I grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him down. Erik caught himself before his chest hit mine, planting his hands on either side of my head on the mattress. Our lips locked, and I reached up to touch his face, cupping his cheeks in my hands. He turned his head slightly to kiss the inside of my palm. His gesture was so sweet that I couldn¡¯t help but beam, even though my mouth felt empty without his. Suddenly, I felt the blanket under my head tighten, and I saw Erik¡¯s knuckles turn white as he balled the comforter in his hands. The thoughts racing through his mind made me both embarrassed and thrilled. While I knew I shouldn¡¯t be doing anything to further his desire, I couldn¡¯t help it; I wrapped my legs around his waist, and pulled his hips against mine.

    My bold move surprised Erik, and he hesitated before his mouth found mine again. The kiss was intoxicating. When he broke it off, my head was spinning so fast that I felt drunk. His lips moved down my neck to my collar bone, his tongue moving slowly across the tender skin. I nearly whimpered. Erik trailed kisses to the top of my shirt. Using his teeth, he pulled the neckline down just enough to expose the top of my bra. My hands moved down the back of his t-shirt, exploring the contours of his lean back. One of his hands moved to my waist, his fingers lightly skimming the space where my tank top and pants didn¡¯t quite meet. His thumb danced lightly across my hip bone.

    ¡°You should really go to sleep now,¡± he mumbled, his mouth now in the hollow of my throat.

    ¡°I¡¯m not that tired,¡± I gasped, gripping his shoulders tighter, glad my nails weren¡¯t long enough to leave claw marks.

    I felt Erik¡¯s lips quirk into a smile against my neck.

    ¡°You need to save your strength, and I need a cold shower,¡± he said playfully as he raised his face to meet my eyes. The passion in the depths of his irises excited me almost as much as his touch. I knew how much harder my reaction made it for him to restrain himself. Erik was worried about distracting me from my solo mission, but he also didn¡¯t want to rush me into doing something I wasn¡¯t ready for.

    Sighing, I regretfully untangled my legs from his waist. Erik smoothed my shirt back into place, letting the tip of his index finger slip beneath the waistband of my pants to touch the edge of my underwear. Closing his turquoise eyes, he emitted an audible moan as he felt the lacy material. I brought my lips to his and kissed him softly. A pained expression clouded his features.

    ¡°Cold shower,¡± he repeated against my mouth.

    Not wanting to test his willpower any further that night, I released my death grip on his shoulders.

    ¡°I¡¯ll see you in the morning,¡± he whispered, gently biting my earlobe as he climbed off me to help me crawl under the blankets. Light as feathers, his fingertips tickled my nose and eyelids, before pressing gently against my lips. They lingered there just long enough for me to kiss the pads.

    ¡°Night, Erik,¡± I said in a voice that was barely audible.

    ¡°Night, Tals.¡± With that, he left. I fell asleep smiling so big my cheeks hurt.

    Every day leading up to my solo mission was more grueling than the one before. Henri pushed me harder and further than I¡¯d thought I was capable of. Every time my sore muscles protested, I cursed him silently¡­ and sometimes, not so silently. Every time that I complained to Erik, he reminded me that Henri wasn¡¯t being callous; he cared, and wanted me to be prepared. I knew that was true, but when I tried telling my blistered index fingers that, they didn¡¯t want to hear it.

    Erik began to tag along on my morning training runs. He never spoke, since he knew that I used the time to cycle through my senses. Even in silence, I appreciated his company. I knew he worried that his presence distracted me¡ªin truth, it did¡ªbut sometimes, I really needed the diversion. When Erik was with me, he consumed my subconscious. When I was alone, the possibility of my impending death took his place; obviously, thoughts of Erik were vastly preferable.

    With Henri¡¯s continued tutelage on the target range, my confidence rose from one day to the next. He pestered the Cryptos until they programmed the simulator with the floor plan of Ian Crane¡¯s temporary home; I could practice navigating my way through the levels.

    Blaine gave me a third pair of eyeball lenses, loaded with the floor plan for the home and GPS tracking. He explained to me that, depending on the security surrounding the estate, either the GPS would update the map as I moved through the house, or just the static image of the general blueprint for the entire estate would appear on the lens. Even if it were the latter, that would be sufficient for me to find my way in and out in a pinch. I¡¯d memorized the layout so I wasn¡¯t worried, but I did feel better knowing that I had the lenses to fall back on. Blaine spent every afternoon leading me around the compound until I finally stopped running into him while reading the information on the lenses.

    Penny went above and beyond, tracking down all of the intel she could possibly find. She was almost as worried about me as Erik and Henri were; ¡°almost¡± only because she¡¯d never been on a hunt, so she couldn¡¯t appreciate how dangerous this one actually was.

    In addition to learning to use all of the handheld technology gadgets, there was one other thing that I would likely need to use on my mission, one I was very excited to train on: a hover-vehicle. Since I would be alone on my mission, Mac had no choice but to authorize driving lessons. Unfortunately, I had many more pressing practices to attend throughout the week, that I only had time for one lesson. It was the very definition of a crash course¡ªpun intended. Henri showed me how to use all of the buttons and switches on the dashboard, and most importantly, the autopilot button. Autopilot took care of every aspect of driving, except for getting into the air and setting back down. I loved the feel of sitting in the driver¡¯s seat, holding the wheel in my hands; it made me feel in control, and lately I¡¯d felt so out of control that it was a welcome change.

    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

    I tried to keep myself calm, but the closer my departure date drew, the more nervous I became. Every night after the four of us poured over the Cryptos¡¯ intel, Erik stayed after the other two left. We only ever kissed; he wanted to do more and I wanted that, too, but everything in my life was happening so fast. I didn¡¯t think that adding ¡°losing my virginity¡± to the list before the mission was such a good idea. Despite that, if Erik initiated something more, I wouldn¡¯t hesitate in following his lead. The overload of sensations that I felt when Erik kissed me was so intense; I couldn¡¯t imagine how I¡¯d feel when we finally took things further.

    Being with Erik was just so different than being with Donavon. I¡¯d always been wary of getting too physical with Donavon. Something had always made me hesitant to let him touch me too much, but with Erik, it was like I couldn¡¯t get enough of him. I felt like I could never be close enough to him. If anything, Erik was the one holding back; his self-restraint was impressive. I seriously doubted that Erik was used to denying himself, and as much as I wanted him, I appreciated his effort. In a twisted way, I think it actually made me want him more.

    ¡°How are you feeling? Think you¡¯re ready?¡± Erik asked one night. He was absently winding my curls around his long fingers as we lay facing each other on my bed.

    ¡°Would you think less of me if I said I was terrified?¡± I asked, tracing the contours of his face.

    ¡°Of course not. I was really scared before my solo mission, too, and it wasn¡¯t nearly as dangerous as this,¡± he confessed.

    ¡°What¡¯d you do?¡±

    ¡°Drowned my worries with alcohol and spent the night with a Brain,¡± he replied. I had a feeling he was serious. Irrational feelings of jealousy washed over me, and I wrinkled my nose at him in disgust.

    Over the last several months, I¡¯d noticed the way that girls, and even some boys, looked at Erik. I was well aware of Erik¡¯s reputation, but I thought, or at least hoped, it might be slightly exaggerated. I knew for sure that girls loved Erik and that Erik loved girls, but I wasn¡¯t clear exactly how many girls Erik had loved. Since our first kiss, I didn¡¯t just notice when girls looked at Erik, I obsessed over it. I¡¯d never been jealous when it came to Donavon, so I was on unfamiliar ground. I tried not to let Erik see that it bothered me. For the most part, for all his talk, I think Erik might actually be oblivious to the way people saw him.

    ¡°Are you suggesting that I do the same?¡± I tried to joke, coming back to the conversation.

    ¡°Absolutely not. I¡¯m suggesting you drown your worries in me,¡± he gave me a lazy smile. Beaming, I returned his grin. I knew why girls fell for him¡ªhe had a way of looking at you like you were the only person in the world. It felt amazing.

    ¡°Will you stay with me tonight?¡± I blurted out without thinking. I wouldn¡¯t be training the next day; it was the last day before I was scheduled to leave. Henri had insisted that it would be better spent resting, instead of going over details that I could recite in my sleep.

    Erik¡¯s eyes widened with surprise, and he looked slightly uncomfortable. ¡°I¡¯m not sure that¡¯s such a great idea. You really need to get as much sleep as you can.¡±

    ¡°But we can sleep in tomorrow,¡± I suggested, hopefully.

    ¡°It¡¯s not that I don¡¯t want to, Talia,¡± he started, correctly interpreting the undertones in my voice. ¡°I definitely want to spend the night right here with you¡ªsans clothing,¡± he grinned from ear-to-ear and waggled his eyebrows. I rolled my eyes, even as my heart leapt at his not-so-subtle overture. ¡°Besides, aren¡¯t we spending the evening together in the city tomorrow?¡± Mac had given Penny and me permission to go into the city after dark, as long as we returned by curfew. So, Henri and Erik were going to take us out for dinner and drinks.

    ¡°But we won¡¯t be alone tomorrow,¡± I pointed out. I was being childish and pouty, but I really wanted him to stay.

    Erik stopped curling my hair around his fingers. He took my hand and interlaced his fingers with my own, rubbing his thumb back and forth across the center of my palm.

    ¡°I know I¡¯m irresistible and all,¡± he joked. ¡°But seriously, are you sure that you want me to stay?¡±

    ¡°Positive,¡± I replied, in a confident voice that belied my underlying apprehension. I did want him to stay, wanted it more than I could express, but we hadn¡¯t spent the entire night together before. Well, technically we¡¯d spent a lot of nights together, just not in the same bed¡ªalone¡­ touching. My heart swelled at the thought of waking up in his arms.

    ¡°Sans clothing?¡± Erik teased, but I could tell that he was kidding. I really wanted to say yes, but I wouldn¡¯t have been serious and I didn¡¯t want the situation to get awkward.

    ¡°I want you to have something to look forward to when I come back,¡± I said instead. I¡¯d been lying on my side facing him, and he gently pushed me over onto my back, our fingers still intertwined. He kissed me softly at first, and then harder. The weight of his body¡ªwarm and heavy on top of mine¡ªfelt amazing, and I pulled him tighter against me.

    ¡°You¡¯ve got yourself a deal, pledge,¡± he grinned when he finally broke off the kiss. I beamed and leaned up to kiss him again, even though I had yet to catch my breath from the last one. Erik gently pushed me back down and shook his head. ¡°There¡¯s no way your clothes are staying on if you keep kissing me like that.¡±

    I tried to reach up again, and he gave a deep laugh that I could feel reverberate through his body. He rolled off of me, but didn¡¯t let go completely. I flipped over, turned my back to him, and curled my body into his. He tightened his arms around me and buried his face in my mess of brown curls.

    ¡°Erik?¡± I said, after a minute.

    ¡°Hmmm?¡± he mumbled.

    ¡°Thank you for staying, even though we¡¯re keeping our clothes on.¡± I felt him smile since his cheek was resting on my head. ¡°In all seriousness, I really don¡¯t want to be alone tonight.¡±

    ¡°I know the feeling, Tals. I felt the same way before mine.¡±

    I tried to snuggle closer, even though I was already pressed completely into him. I was too amped-up to sleep; the combination of being so close to Erik and my nerves over the mission was like a constant stream of caffeine. I knew that I was projecting toward Erik, and I tried to control it so that he could get some rest. I guess I was doing a poor job of it because he gently detangled himself from me and scooted a couple of inches back. I assumed that the physical separation would make it easier for him to block my mind, but I still sighed with disappointment. Surprisingly, I felt Erik gently roll up the bottom of my tank top, and I experienced the now-familiar heart pounding, shortness of breath, and crackles of electricity that shot through me when his skin touched mine. I was, of course, nervous as he started to undress me, but I didn¡¯t want him to stop. Only he did stop, as soon as he¡¯d pushed the back of my shirt up over the place where my bra would have been, had I been wearing one. Suddenly, a thought struck me: Did Erik think I was easy because I wasn¡¯t wearing a bra?

    ¡°There are lots of words I¡¯d use to describe you, Tals. Easy is not one of them.¡± He lazily traced a design on my back. Blood rushed to my face, and my body went rigid. ¡°Relax, Tals,¡± he chuckled. He drew undistinguishable shapes up and down my skin. I concentrated on the rhythmic movements of his fingertips and felt my whole body unwind.

    ¡°Erik?¡± I asked after his hand rested gently on my hip.

    ¡°I¡¯m awake,¡± he answered, starting to move his fingers again.

    ¡°Can I ask you a question?¡±

    ¡°Sure,¡± his voice was relaxed, but I felt his body tense behind me.

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you go home for Festivis Day?¡± I asked. His teeth ground together. I knew why Harris didn¡¯t go home¡ªhis parents didn¡¯t think being a Talent was a good thing. He¡¯d actually spent several school breaks with me and Donavon at the McDonough¡¯s house. I also knew why Penny didn¡¯t go home¡ªshe didn¡¯t have a real home. And Henri never missed an opportunity to spend time with Frederick, so that explained why he¡¯d stayed. But it had been nagging me why Erik had stayed.

    ¡°It¡¯s complicated,¡± he finally answered, his words measured.

    ¡°Are your parents still alive?¡± I pressed.

    ¡°My dad and both of my brothers are.¡± I could tell that he didn¡¯t want to elaborate, and I suddenly realized how little I actually knew about Erik, outside of TOXIC. Then I remembered something that Penny had told me.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t come to the school when you were five, like most kids, right?¡± Even as I said it, I knew that I was on shaky ground.

    ¡°Neither did you.¡± Well, this was going famously.

    ¡°How old were you?¡± I pried.

    ¡°Fourteen.¡± This was like pulling teeth. I should¡¯ve stopped, but my curiosity was already piqued.

    ¡°How did it happen?¡± I asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s complicated,¡± he repeated. I considered probing his mind, but thought better of it. Before I could open my mouth to ask another intrusive question, he pressed his palm flat against my stomach and dragged me into him. He kissed the side of my neck, and I no longer cared that he was being evasive.

    ¡°Why the twenty questions?¡± he whispered, his breath tickling my ear. He nibbled gently on my earlobe. I wriggled closer to him.

    ¡°I just want to get to know you,¡± I whispered back.

    ¡°You do know me, probably better than anyone.¡± He kissed my neck again. I craned my head around to find his mouth, and I kissed him softly. I looked into his eyes, more green than blue in the dark. His mind was carefully guarded, and I knew that I wasn¡¯t going to get anything out of him tonight.

    ¡°Will you tell me one day?¡± I asked softly. Our faces were so close that my lips brushed his when I spoke.

    ¡°One day,¡± he promised, ¡°when you¡¯re ready to hear it.¡±

 Chapter Thirty-One: The One with Overindulgence

    Penny came to my room the next afternoon so that we could get ready together for our night out in the city. I selected a simple, long black-and-white floral dress, and a black shawl to keep my arms and shoulders warm. It was another dress that Gretchen had purchased for me that I had yet to wear. Penny helped me put on makeup, just enough that I still looked natural. She selected a black head-topper of floral lace from her collection and fastened it into my long curls. I tried to protest, but Penny argued that we had so few chances to dress up that we might as well take advantage.

    For herself, Penny chose a short, navy dress that wrapped around her slender body and tied on one side of her waist. She managed to sleek her bright red hair into a neat bun, but decided against a head-topper for herself. She looped long chains made of fake gold and pretty glass beads around her neck and wrists.

    I¡¯d seen Penny every night for the last week, but that was strictly business; we hadn¡¯t had a chance to talk about anything except my upcoming solo hunt. Penny correctly surmised that I didn¡¯t want to talk about that today, so instead, she filled me in on the details of her rapidly-progressing relationship with Harris. Neither was ready to call the other boyfriend or girlfriend, but they were definitely into each other and moving in that direction.

    Penny gently pressed me for details about Erik.

    ¡°Is it obvious?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Well¡­ yeah. It¡¯s totally obvious when we¡¯re all together. He can¡¯t take his eyes off you. It¡¯s totally hot,¡± she laughed.

    ¡°Do you think Henri knows?¡± I worried. Dating, or whatever we were doing, wasn¡¯t against the rules or anything, but I worried that Henri would still disapprove.

    ¡°Um, I know he knows,¡± she answered. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. He is cool with it.¡± I smiled. Hopefully, that was true.

    ¡°I¡¯m so totally jealous,¡± Penny continued, with a pout.

    I laughed. ¡°Jealous? You have Harris!¡±

    ¡°I know, and it¡¯s not like I like Erik or anything,¡± she assured me.

    ¡°Then why are you jealous?¡± I laughed again.

    ¡°Because every girl talks about him! He¡¯s like the closest thing to famous that we have here!¡±

    I didn¡¯t respond right away. That was the problem¡ªI didn¡¯t want a bunch of girls crushing on him. I didn¡¯t want him to have his pick of girls because then he might not pick me.

    ¡°Harris won¡¯t be able to keep his hands off of you in that dress,¡± I teased, changing the subject.

    Penny blushed, ¡°You don¡¯t look so bad yourself.¡±

    Erik was waiting for me in the lobby, with Henri and Harris in tow. He looked amazing, as usual, wearing jeans and a navy-and-white gingham button down. His sleeves were rolled up, showing off his muscled forearms, and the white of the shirt contrasted nicely with his tan skin. His dark hair was getting long, and he kept running his hands through it in a fruitless attempt to push it out of his eyes. I had to resist the urge to run over and kiss him the moment we stepped off of the elevator.

    ¡°Hey,¡± Harris said to Penny, his whole face lighting up with a smile as we approached. She returned his smile with a high-wattage one of her own. He bent down to kiss her on the lips, and jealousy twisted knots in my stomach as I watched their interaction. I knew that Erik wouldn¡¯t kiss me in public and, in truth, I didn¡¯t want him to; I definitely wasn¡¯t ready for everyone to know about whatever was going on between us. Still, it hurt that Erik treated me the same way in public as he had previously, before we¡¯d started rolling around in my bed together.

    ¡°Ready to start the celebration?¡± Erik asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

    ¡°Celebration? Shouldn¡¯t we wait to celebrate until she gets back and well, you know, actually passes her solo hunt?¡± Penny asked, looking perplexed.

    ¡°Nah, we always celebrate before solo missions. They¡¯re just a formality, anyway. Once a pledge gets his solo assignment, it¡¯s pretty much a given that he¡ªor she¡ªwill graduate,¡± Harris explained to her.

    ¡°But, I thought Talia¡¯s hunt was like super dangerous and¡ª¡±

    ¡°Tonight is a celebration of all of her hard work to this point,¡± Erik cut her off, shooting her a warning look. Erik and Henri knew about my assignment because they¡¯re my teammates, and Penny knew about it because she was part of the Crypto team compiling the intel. But no one else knew the specifics of my assignment, and I wanted for it to stay that way.

    ¡°Thank you, Erik,¡± I smiled gratefully up at him. He gave my shoulder a small squeeze, something that he does in public all the time, but this time he rubbed his thumb across my collarbone before letting go. I shivered as goosebumps erupted all over my body. Erik suppressed a laugh and blood rushed to my face, coloring my cheeks with embarrassment.

    ¡°Let¡¯s get this celebration started,¡± Henri said, speaking for the first time. I could tell that he wasn¡¯t in a festive mood, but he was trying for my sake.

    Henri had been agonizing over my assignment all week. He tried to talk Mac out of sending me alone, begging him to allow us to go as a team. He¡¯d also been arguing with Erik because Erik refused to speak to Mac, as well. Henri hadn¡¯t actually told me any of this; he was such a strong projector that I¡¯d picked it up in practice, when my mind was open to him.

    I¡¯d been careful to keep my personal reasons for wanting to go on this mission to myself. Erik wasn¡¯t fooled; he could tell that there was more to it than I, or Mac, was letting on. He was aware that this assignment was personal for me, but he wasn¡¯t intrusive enough to ask me outright for details. I guess we both had our secrets.

    Frederick was already at the restaurant when we arrived. He jumped up when he saw us approaching the table, and instead of giving Henri a hug, he folded me in his slender arms.

    ¡°I hear that congratulations are in order,¡± he said excitedly to me.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± I smiled back at him.

    Henri ordered pitchers of lemon-flavored mixed drinks for all of us to share.

    ¡°You¡¯ll love it¡ªgives you a nice drunk feeling, but you won¡¯t have a hangover tomorrow,¡± Henri promised.

    Our little group drank all of the pitchers that Henri ordered, and then several additional ones. I tried to eat enough to soak up the alcohol, but I was having such a good time that I let myself drink more than I had the first night I¡¯d met Penny.

    Harris and Penny both had so much to drink, they kept touching and kissing.  But not in an inappropriate way, it was cute. Erik sat next to me and kept reaching under the table to tickle my side or run his fingers over my leg when nobody was looking. The more I had to drink, the harder it was to keep a straight face when he touched me.

    ¡°Stop,¡± I mentally pleaded with him when he ran his fingers lightly over the crook of my elbow, taking my breath away¡ªso much so that I couldn¡¯t answer a question that Frederick asked.

    ¡°You like it,¡± he insisted.

    ¡°They¡¯re going to know.¡±

    ¡°Tals, everybody sitting at this table knows¡ªyou have the worst poker face.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡±

    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    ¡°Every time that I get close to you, the look on your face is a dead giveaway,¡± he laughed out loud.

    ¡°Mighty full of yourself, aren¡¯t you? Maybe whatever look I have on my face has nothing to do with you,¡± I shot back, trying to sound indignant.

    ¡°Trust me, I know that look. Lots of girls give me that look.¡±

    ¡°Maybe if they know,¡± I gave a pointed glance around the table, ¡°it¡¯s because of the look you have on your face when you are around ME,¡± I gave him a smug smile.

    ¡°You might be right about that,¡± he conceded. ¡°Let¡¯s just say that it¡¯s a good thing you¡¯re the only one who can read my thoughts.¡±

    I gave him a light shove in the chest and attempted a disapproving stare, but it was hard when, in reality, it thrilled me.

    I¡¯d been so engrossed in my mental conversation with Erik that I didn¡¯t notice that everybody else at the table had stopped talking. At first, my alcohol-muddled mind thought that it was because they were watching our exchange. Unfortunately, I was wrong. I followed the direction of their frozen gazes and saw Donavon standing several feet from our table, staring at me.

    My stomach dropped, and I had to fight the urge to be sick. I¡¯d known that I would have to see him again one day; I¡¯d just hoped that the day would be WAY in the future. I stared straight at him, the alcohol giving me courage that I otherwise lacked. After several long seconds of awkward silence, Donavon finally spoke.

    ¡°Congratulations, Natalia. My dad told me that you leave for your solo hunt tomorrow.¡± He spoke to me but looked at Harris, the only friendly face for him at our table.

    ¡°Yes, I do,¡± I replied tightly, refusing to accept his sentiments. Erik¡¯s hand tightened on my leg.

    ¡°Please be safe,¡± he mentally added. I closed my mind off to him completely before I was tempted to reply, and turned my back on him.

    ¡°Nice to see you guys. Harris, I¡¯ll see you back at the cabin later tonight.¡± I didn¡¯t know if it was wishful thinking, or my newfound love of overanalyzing everything that guys said and did, but I swear he emphasized the fact he planned on returning to his cabin tonight¡ªi.e. not staying with the blond slut in the city¡ªfor my benefit.

    Donavon¡¯s presence put a damper on my celebration. Penny made an effort to get us back on track by ordering Electric Shock shots, but I was no longer in the mood. Erik was good at affecting a care-free attitude, but the way his fingers dug painfully into my arm told me that he wasn¡¯t pleased. I tried to take part in the conversation, but I couldn¡¯t concentrate; I kept thinking about Donavon. My lack of verbal communication left plenty of time for me to down several more glasses of the lemony drink. I was completely toasted by the time curfew rolled around.

    Penny asked if I wanted her to stay with me when we got back to Headquarters, but I insisted that it wasn¡¯t necessary. She wanted to spend more time with Harris, and I wanted to spend the night with Erik.

    I clung on to Erik¡¯s arm as I stumbled to my room. He offered several times to carry me, but I refused, arguing that I was perfectly capable of walking on my own. Of course, I wasn¡¯t, but Erik indulged me. He even sat crossed-legged on the floor of the elevator with me, when the ride made me too dizzy to stand.

    It took me three tries to scan my palm to open the door to my room. Erik smirked, but waited patiently since I demanded that he let me do it on my own. Once we were inside, I gave up my independent act and fell into Erik¡¯s arms. He scooped me off of my feet and carried me to my bed.

    ¡°Did you have fun tonight?¡± he murmured into my hair.

    ¡°Yup!¡± I nodded my head vigorously as he settled me on my pillows.

    He slid my shoes off, before kicking off his own and climbing into bed after me. He leaned over and bent his head down until our foreheads touched. I giggled as I reached up to pull his lips to mine. He hesitated for a brief second and then gave me one of his toe-curling kisses. I boldly reached for the waist of his pants to un-tuck his shirt. I ran my hands over the hard muscles of his stomach and back, and I felt raised, puckered flesh, which marked scars from past hunts that hadn¡¯t been removed.

    His heart was pounding against his ribcage in time with my own. He pulled away from the kiss just long enough to pull his shirt over his head, and I stared in amazement as his muscles rippled with even the smallest movement. I looked up into his eyes and saw the same indecision that I had the other night. I reached my hand out to him, and he took it with only a little hesitation. He lowered himself down on top of me again, careful to balance most of his weight on his free arm.

    He never took his eyes away from mine as he released my hand and reached behind my neck to untie my dress. He slowly pulled it down. With one shaking hand, I reached up and traced the lines of his face. He gave me a giant grin and pulled the dress the rest of the way down. My mouth was dry, my hands trembling and clammy. I couldn¡¯t stop quivering with a mixture of nerves and anticipation. Waves of heat spread over me every time that his skin made contact with mine. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep myself from saying something that I might regret. Erik¡¯s eyes crinkled and his mouth quirked into a smile, enjoying the effect that he was having on me.

    Once my dress was nothing more than a pile of gauzy fabric on the floor, Erik sat back, looking me up and down. It¡¯d always made me nervous when Donavon looked at me without any clothes on, but something about the way that Erik¡¯s eyes drank in every detail made me feel special, and I didn¡¯t mind at all. A flicker of something that I couldn¡¯t pinpoint flashed across Erik¡¯s eyes. He hesitated, before bending down and kissing me, slowly, softly. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer to me, but I feared that he would never get close enough to satisfy me.

    I¡¯d never felt this way with Donavon, who I¡¯d been so convinced I loved; Donavon, who I¡¯d defended anytime that Erik spoke ill of him; Donavon, who I¡¯d trusted, but who made me question everything that I thought I knew in my life.

    Suddenly, Erik stopped kissing me. He backed away, stumbling backward off of my bed.

    ¡°This is wrong. I can¡¯t do this,¡± he stammered.

    ¡°W-w-w-what?¡± I stuttered, hot tears pricking the corners of my eyes. ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re drunk, Talia. It would be wrong.¡±

    ¡°Drunk?¡± I repeated. He had a point¡ªI was drunk, but I would¡¯ve wanted him even if I were sober. Since I was drunk, I actually said, ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. I would still want you if I were sober. I mean I do want you when I¡¯m sober.¡±

    ¡°No, this is wrong,¡± he said firmly, shaking his head.

    I scrambled off the bed and moved toward him, only vaguely aware of the fact that I wasn¡¯t wearing any clothes. I reached out to him, but he kept backing away. The tears that had welled up in my eyes were now falling down my cheeks.

    ¡°Did I do something wrong?¡± I sniffled.

    ¡°No,¡± his answer was clipped. I did something wrong. I just didn¡¯t know what it could be. I cried harder.

    ¡°What can I do? Tell me what I did wrong,¡± I pleaded with him. This is when I should have been biting my cheek, so I didn¡¯t say something I would regret.

    ¡°Natalia, you¡¯re drunk. I don¡¯t think this is the best time to have this conversation.¡±

    How could he do this to me? I might not have trusted myself with him, but I did trust him.

    Erik started walking toward me. He grabbed my bathrobe off of the hook on the bathroom door and wrapped it around my shoulders. I sat on the edge of the bed, refusing to meet his gaze.

    ¡°I should go, Tals,¡± he said kneeling down in front of me. My chest was heaving with my silent sobs. I couldn¡¯t catch my breath, and my drunken brain feared I was hyperventilating.

    ¡°Please stay,¡± I begged. ¡°I don¡¯t understand what I did wrong,¡± I cried, but my words were incoherent, even to me.

    Erik ran the back of his hand against my cheek and then stood to leave. I shot my hand out and wrapped it around his wrist, forcing him to turn back around and face me.

    ¡°What did I do?¡± I shouted, anger replacing humiliation. ¡°You owe me that much.¡±

    ¡°Owe you?¡± the fury that flashed in his eyes scared me. Under sober circumstances, I probably would¡¯ve shrunk away from him. ¡°I don¡¯t owe you shit, Tals.¡± He tried to yank his arm away, but my grasp was firm.

    ¡°I was about to sleep with you, Erik,¡± I screamed.

    ¡°Why?¡± Erik demanded. He yanked harder, and his wrist broke free from my grasp, but he didn¡¯t move to leave the room again. Instead, he bent down with his face inches from mine.

    ¡°Why what?¡± I asked, confused.

    ¡°Why do you want to sleep with me, Tals?¡± he demanded. His eyes were blazing, and his face was contorted in rage. This time I did shrink away from him.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I stammered.

    ¡°To get back at Donavon?¡± his voice turned eerily calm, and I leaned further away from him. I knew he had a temper, we both did, but his had never been directed at me. He terrified me, but I refused to back down. I straightened my spine.

    ¡°NO,¡± I screamed, shoving him hard in his bare chest. ¡°Why would you even think that?¡±

    ¡°You know how amazing it is to be with you?¡± his voice turned gentle, but his eyes maintained that if-looks-could-kill stare. ¡°When I¡¯m with you, I can feel how you feel. You project your feelings onto me so strongly, I can¡¯t keep you out of my head. And I don¡¯t want, too. It feels too incredible.¡±

    ¡°Then what¡¯s wrong?¡± A fresh wave of hysteria rose up inside me, threatening to overtake me again.

    ¡°Donavon! There hasn¡¯t been one time that I have kissed you that you haven¡¯t thought of him!¡± Erik screamed, pounding his hands against my bed. sent me bouncing up and down. If I thought his eerily calm voice was scary, it had nothing on his losing-his-temper voice.

    ¡°No! No, that isn¡¯t true,¡± I sobbed, hugging my knees to my chest. ¡°I want to be with you.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Natalia, it is. And I¡¯m not going to be anybody¡¯s fucking silver medal.¡± Every apartment in the building was sound-proof, but I wouldn¡¯t have been surprised if my neighbors could hear us screaming.

    Erik backed away from the bed, grabbing his shirt as he did.

    ¡°No!¡± I screamed after him. ¡°Erik, please!¡± I briefly considered mentally forcing him to stay, but thankfully, all of the yelling had sobered me up enough to realize how terrible that plan was likely to turn out.

    Erik paused near the door, and hope filled me. Then he pressed his hand to the interior sensor and the door swung open. My strangled cries filled the room when he walked out.

    Curling up on my bed, I sobbed until I had no tears left. My throat was so raw that it felt as though it were bleeding. I choked on my sobs and dry-heaved over the side of my bed. I dreaded falling asleep because when I woke again, I¡¯d have to relive the pain and embarrassment of what had happened.

 Chapter Thirty-Two: The One with the Stolen Hovercraft

    When I finally dragged my body out of bed the next morning, my eyes were so swollen that I could barely see. I wandered into my bathroom, only to find that I actually looked worse than I felt. The purple color of my eyes wasn¡¯t identifiable in my reflection. Makeup streaked my cheeks and my forehead where I¡¯d smeared it rubbing the tears away. My loose curls were tightly knotted and sticking out all over my head. I groaned.

    I had several hours until I was due at the hangar for my flight to Nevada. I should¡¯ve spent that time doing last minute preparations for my hunt, but I lacked the energy. I had a horrible headache that I wanted to blame on the alcohol, but I remembered that it was supposed to be hangover-free. I correctly attributed it to my uncontrollable hysteria over what had happened with Erik.

    I filled my oversized bathtub with water as hot as I could bear and added scented oils that Gretchen had sent me. I plastered a cucumber-carrot cream over my entire face and slipped into the steaming water. The cream was one of Gretchen¡¯s own concoctions; she used to slather the tangy-smelling lotion on both mine and Donavon¡¯s injuries to reduce swelling. It worked wonders, and I hoped it would do the same for my puffy eyes.

    Floating in the scented water, I tried to clear my head of Erik, of Donavon, and of anything else that didn¡¯t directly relate to my upcoming assignment. It was a fruitless endeavor. I couldn¡¯t erase Erik¡¯s accusations from my mind. Did I really think about Donavon that much? I guess I did, but most of my thoughts weren¡¯t exactly friendly. And really, what did Erik expect? Donavon was the only guy that I¡¯d ever dated. The only guy I¡¯d ever kissed. The only guy that I¡¯d ever done anything with that a teenage girl does with a teenage boy. Of course I was going to think about Donavon, right? I didn¡¯t still have feelings for Donavon, unless hate counted, right? Even if I did, was it really fair for Erik to expect me just to turn off my feelings for Donavon, even after what he¡¯d done to me? And why was Erik fishing around in my head while we were making out, anyway? I didn¡¯t reach into his head. Sure, I opened myself up to his feelings, but that was a lot different than rummaging around in his head to find out how I compared with every girl that he¡¯d done whatever it is he does with them.

    My bath ended up being less relaxing than I¡¯d hoped. When I climbed out of the tub, trailing watery footprints across the bathroom floor, I was less ashamed about the way that I¡¯d acted with Erik, and more enraged about the way that he¡¯d acted with me. Actually, I was more than angry; I was fuming. I threw my necessary belongings into my black regulation backpack, roughly packing my clothes and gadgets while muttering to myself the whole time.

    When a knock on the door interrupted my angry packing, my stomach was suddenly full of butterflies. I wanted to open my mind to find out who was there, but I wasn¡¯t sure if the fluttering in my stomach was because I hoped that it were Erik, or because I hoped it were Donavon. The epiphany made me irrationally angry with Erik for being right about the whole Donavon thing.

    Instead of opening my mind, I used it to throw open the door. The door slammed into the wall, chipping the purple paint; the doorjamb failed to slow its swing.

    ¡°Hey,¡± Penny called, tentatively.

    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s you. Sorry, come on in,¡± I called back.

    ¡°Nervous?¡± Penny asked, jittery herself.

    ¡°Huh? Oh, about the hunt? Of course I¡¯m nervous, but I¡¯ll be fine. It¡¯s just a graduation hunt, after all.¡± I tried to smile at her, but it came out strained.

    ¡°You¡¯re distracted,¡± Penny said matter-of-factly.

    ¡°I. Am. Not. Distracted,¡± I practically growled at her.

    ¡°Tal, I know you¡¯ve done really well on your hunts up until now,¡± she spoke softly as she slowly lowered herself to the floor to sit beside me. ¡°But you really need your head in the game right now. This mission is extremely dangerous; I¡¯ve seen all the intel.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve seen it all, too, Penny,¡± I snapped at her, annoyed.

    ¡°Is it Erik?¡± Penny asked quietly.

    ¡°Yeah¡­ kind of,¡± I relented, softening my tone.

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you tell me what happened?¡± she suggested.

    I gave her a hard look. As angry as I was with Erik, I knew that the minute I actually said the words out loud, I would be reliving possibly the most mortifying experience of my life. I intended to tell Penny I didn¡¯t want to talk about it, but somehow I found myself launching into a detailed account of the night before. I stared at my hands the entire time I spoke; the only thing worse than a drunken fight was recounting a drunken fight while sober. I might as well have put it up on my wall screen and played it back in slow motion.

    Penny listened without comment. When I finished, I finally looked up and met Penny¡¯s green eyes, hoping to find something that made me feel better. Her eyes were full of concern, but I wasn¡¯t exactly sure why.

    ¡°Erik will calm down. He cares a lot about you,¡± Penny finally said. She hesitated before continuing. ¡°Do you want Donavon back?¡± Her voice was so quiet that if I hadn¡¯t been sitting right next to her, I wouldn¡¯t have heard her.

    ¡°No. No, I don¡¯t,¡± I said with as much conviction as I could muster.

    ¡°But maybe it was a little too soon to start something with Erik?¡± Penny prompted.

    ¡°Probably,¡± I admitted.

    ¡°He¡¯ll be okay when you get back. He just needs a couple of days to calm down,¡± she assured me. I nodded and gave her a real smile. ¡°Now that you¡¯ve gotten that off your chest, will you please concentrate on your hunt?¡± she insisted.

    ¡°Yes, I will. You¡¯re right¡ªnone of this is important right now.¡± Penny¡¯s point was valid. This was exactly what Mac had been talking about; if I actually wanted to be a Hunter, I needed to start acting like it. The last thing that I should be devoting energy to was boys.

    Penny finished packing my stuff while I reviewed intel again. Together, we made our way to the hover-hangar. We didn¡¯t say much on the walk, but it was nice knowing that Penny was there.

    Thanks to all of my mental anguish over Erik and Donavon, I hadn¡¯t had time this morning to get too nervous about my mission. But as soon as the hangar came into view, my stomach constricted with fear and anxiety. I reached over and grabbed for Penny¡¯s hand. She gave it a reassuring squeeze, and I gripped hers tighter.

    In a couple of hours, I could be face-to-face with my parents¡¯ murderer. In a couple of hours, I might kill Ian Crane¡ªor Ian Crane might kill me. None of these sounded like win-win scenarios to me; in fact, they all seemed like lose-lose. Best case scenario, I confronted Ian Crane. I didn¡¯t know if I¡¯d be able to restrain myself from attacking him, but if I attacked him, my cover was blown. If my cover were blown, I¡¯d better be sure that he died in that attack. If he died, it was unlikely that I¡¯d make it very far before one of his men killed me. If I did somehow manage to Houdini my way out of there, it was unlikely that I¡¯d graduate since my official assignment was information gathering. All-in-all, the outcome wasn¡¯t likely going to be in my favor. Was I set up to fail?

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    When we arrived, Mac was waiting inside the hangar with Captain Alvarez. His face was set in hard lines, his dark brown eyes unwelcoming. At least Captain Alvarez appeared pleased to see me¡ªhis dark features lit up with a reassuring smile when he noticed me.

    ¡°Do you make it a habit to see off the pledges on their solo hunts, or am I special?¡± I asked sarcastically. I was still miffed over Mac¡¯s thinly-veiled threats.

    ¡°I happened to be here on business. I thought I would come say good luck, and remind you that if you don¡¯t successfully complete this assignment, you won¡¯t graduate. Please take this seriously,¡± Mac replied dryly. He must still be irked, too. Stalemate.

    ¡°I take every hunt seriously,¡± I shot back, my temper flaring.

    ¡°You¡¯ve done very well up to this point, Natalia. I am sure this won¡¯t be any different as long as you stay focused,¡± Captain Alvarez interjected, defusing the situation.

    ¡°I am focused,¡± I said through gritted teeth. Penny¡¯s sharp intake of breath drew my attention away from Mac. Her eyes were pained, and I looked down at her hand, still enclosed in mine. Her fingers were turning purple from lack of circulation. I hastily released her.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± I muttered.

    Mac walked over and gave me an awkward hug. I half-heartedly returned it.

    ¡°Be careful, Natalia,¡± he said in a low voice. His cold gray eyes found mine, ¡°You know what you need to do.¡±

    ¡°I do.¡± My voice was so icy that I gave myself a shudder.

    Penny turned and leaned down, wrapping her thin arms around me.

    ¡°Keep your eyes and ears open, and remember that I¡¯m always there with you. I know you won¡¯t be able to hear or see me, but I¡¯ll be there on the other end of all your communications,¡± she choked. When she released me, she wiped tears from her cheeks. I gave her hand a gentle squeeze this time.

    ¡°Good luck, Lyons. Just remember¡ªwhen you come back, you¡¯ll be a real Hunter.¡± Captain Alvarez engulfed one of my hands in both of his, shaking it vigorously.

    If I returned, I thought. ¡°Thank you, sir,¡± I replied, giving him a small nod, suddenly very glad that he was here. I turned, walking over to my designated hover-plane.

    ¡°Talia, wait!¡± Henri panted as he ran into the hangar.

    I smiled, ¡°I thought you weren¡¯t coming.¡±

    He gave me a huge hug, squeezing me tightly, ¡°Good luck, Talia. Be careful,¡± he whispered.

    ¡°Thank you. I will. I¡¯ll be back before you know it.¡± I tried to make my voice sound light-hearted.

    He swallowed. ¡°I know.¡±

    ¡°Is Erik not coming?¡± The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them, and I hated myself for asking.

    ¡°He thought it would be better if he didn¡¯t.¡± Henri¡¯s voice was kind.

    ¡°Of course, he¡¯s right. It¡¯s better this way,¡± I mumbled, more upset than I should¡¯ve been.

    ¡°We¡¯ll both be here when you get back, okay?¡± Henri ensured me.

    I nodded, feeling tears prickling the corners of my eyes. I gave him another quick hug. He grasped one of my hands, pressing a tightly folded square of paper into my palm. I risked a quick glance before curling my fingers around the pointy edges; my name was scrawled across the front, and underneath my name it read, ¡°For when you¡¯re ready to hear it.¡± I gave Henri one last nod and then turned, continuing to the hover-plane before he could see the tears swimming in my eyes.

    The moment that I stepped on the hover-plane, my mood shifted drastically. I pushed all thoughts of Erik and Donavon aside and focused all of my energy on the task at hand. Finding that I was too amped up to sleep, I again ran through all of the intel, over and over in my mind. When that became tiresome, I switched to sensory drills. Even still, the nearly four-hour flight went faster than I would¡¯ve liked.

    When the hover-plane landed, we were approximately sixty miles from the Nevada border. My backpack was already strapped firmly on my back when the craft lowered into the clearing. Instead of an adapti-suit, I was wearing black pants and a tight black jacket. Since this hunt wasn¡¯t covert, an adapti-suit was unnecessary¡ªI wasn¡¯t hiding from anybody. Eventually, I would be trying to attract a certain amount of attention to myself. I called goodbye to the crew and readied myself as a metal panel in the bottom of the plane began to slide open. Looking down, even in the dead of night, I judged the ground to be about ten feet beneath me. Once the hole was large enough for me to fit through, I leapt.

    Landing in a low crouch, I focused all my energy on my sight; even though the craft was quiet, it was not easy to hear above the dull hum. I drank in my surroundings, my eyes adjusting quickly. I didn¡¯t wait for the hover-plane to rise back into the night, but immediately took off in a run. At this time of night, I would be spotted on my way into town, but there would be little traffic at the Las Vegas city border checkpoints. If I were to cross in the middle of the day, I¡¯d be less noticeable, but it was safer for the hover-plane to drop me under the cover of darkness. Even in the middle of the night, the risk was too great for them to get me any closer than they did.

    The soles of my black mesh shoes barely made any noise as I ran through the woods. I followed the map that I¡¯d committed to memory, concentrating my energy on my sense of feel. Once out of the woods, I would find myself in a small neighborhood. Unlike my missions with Henri and Erik, there would be no hover-vehicle waiting for me. TOXIC had safe houses equipped with vehicles in this area, but it was too risky for me to cross the border in an Agency vehicle. The Coalition states were poor, so a car outfitted with the latest technology would cause suspicion. Instead, I would ¡°borrow¡± a vehicle from one of the houses in the neighborhood.

    My run through the woods went according to plan. I was feeling confident when I burst through the trees and into a grassy area behind a neighborhood home. Slowing to a walk, I took several deep breaths and willed my pulse to return to normal. I pulled the hood up over my curls, hoping to obscure as much of myself as possible.

    I refocused my mental energy and expanded my mind, searching for any creatures that were awake in the area. I sensed several animals¡ªdogs or wolves¡ªin the vicinity. Concentrating harder, I pinpointed the exact homes that they guarded, and I made a mental note to steer clear of them. I crept around the side of the house, and quickly scanned the area. I found myself in a cul-de-sac with only six houses. Four homes had animals patrolling their yards. I chose one of the two houses without a security animal and quickly spotted a vehicle in the driveway. Relief flooded through me when I saw that it was a hover-vehicle; they make so much less noise than road-vehicles.

    Crouching low next to the driver¡¯s side door, I unhooked my backpack. I set the bag in my lap, and felt around for the residue-detector that attached to my portable Communicator. Once I connected the two, I turned on the detector and ran it over the keypad on the driver¡¯s door. Five of the ten numbers glowed neon green. I waited as my Communicator processed the possible password combinations that the five numbers could make up. Several agonizing seconds passed before the screen of my Communicator displayed the top five most likely combination orders. I entered the first one and was rewarded with a soft click as the lock disengaged. Relieved, I eased the door open and crawled into the driver¡¯s seat.

    Thus far, pure adrenaline had steeled my nerves. But now, sitting in a car that I was about to steal, my apprehension returned. I took several calming breaths and acquainted myself with the vehicle. Mentally disengaging the door lock would have been risky, since the vehicle could have had an alarm, but there wouldn¡¯t be a similar risk using my telekinetic powers to start the engine. The intel package had contained an entire section on engines in the most common hover- and land-vehicles. I¡¯d meticulously studied each and every one. I placed my hand on the dashboard, envisioned the engine for a Y420 Hover-Craft¡ªthe name emblazoned on the dash¡ªand mentally engaged all of the pistons. I held my breath as the engine came alive, purring softly.

    Gently, I glided the hover-vehicle across the front lawn, hoping that nobody inside made a late-night bathroom run. I didn¡¯t exhale until I was safely out of the neighborhood and soaring high above fields and pastures en route to Las Vegas. For my first solo driving experience, it was uneventful. I made a mental note to insist that Henri let me drive the Agency hover-craft next time we went into D.C.

 Chapter Thirty-Three: The One with the Subterfuge

    At about five miles out, I pushed the button to lower the tires from the undercarriage; seeing as I had yet to master landing, I thought it better to land a safe distance from the actual checkpoint. That way, if I crashed, I¡¯d draw less attention to myself.

    Once I landed, with only a minimal amount of bumping and swerving, I drove to the border in a haze. Sweat rolled down my back, pooling in the fabric at the waistband of my pants. I wiped at beads of perspiration dotting my forehead and upper lip with the sleeve of my jacket. I gripped the hand controls of the vehicle so hard that I knew my knuckles were white underneath my black gloves. I could hear my heart pounding, and I prayed that the border guard wasn¡¯t a Talent. I didn¡¯t overly worry because Talents were shunned by The Coalition rather than revered. It was unlikely that one would be working as a border guard.

    As I approached, I saw that the border was virtually empty. Only one vehicle occupied any of the ten gates. I focused my energy on my mental abilities and slid the vehicle into the rightmost gate.

    A short man with a thick mustache leaned out of the guard booth. I panicked, mentally forcing my window down instead of pressing the button. The guard gave me an odd look. I looked into his dark eyes and locked onto his mind. You saw me press the button to roll the window down, I mentally insisted. If there were cameras at the border crossing¡ªand I assumed that there were¡ªI didn¡¯t want to draw suspicion to myself; I wanted the transaction to appear as normal as possible to anyone watching the surveillance footage. His face relaxed, and he smiled at me. I rewarded him with a toothy grin.

    ¡°Good evening,¡± I greeted him without breaking eye contact.

    ¡°Good evening, ma¡¯am. What is your business in Las Vegas?¡±

    ¡°Family visit,¡± I responded out loud. Ask me for my papers and then let me through, I mentally communicated.

    The guard continued to smile. ¡°Do you have your papers, Miss?¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± I smiled, handing him several blank pages stapled together. Slowly leaf through the pages, declare everything in order, and then let me through, I commanded.

    My last vestiges of anxiety were gone, and I felt truly in control for the first time in months, maybe years. I was in my element. I had complete confidence in my mental abilities. Was I too cocky? Maybe, but I¡¯d been able to bend the will of others for as long as I could remember. My parents had discouraged using my talents against those around me. Mac had discouraged it while I was at school, but he¡¯d always promised that one day I¡¯d be able to use my abilities to their fullest extent. Now I was, and it felt incredible.

    The guard made a show of flipping through the blank pages, scanning each in turn as though checking for pertinent information. He handed me back the papers.

    Log me in as a visitor; Name: Anna Reynolds; age: 22; reason for visit: to see my father, Arnie Reynolds, I ordered. The guard obediently turned around. I could hear the tap of his fingers hitting the plastic computer keys as he entered the information I¡¯d given him. Arnie was a real Las Vegas resident, and he really did have a daughter named Anna, but our intel indicated that she hadn¡¯t visited her father since she was five. Hopefully, she wouldn¡¯t feel like reconnecting anytime soon.

    ¡°Enjoy your visit to our city, Miss,¡± the guard declared, once he finished entering the data.

    ¡°Thank you.¡± I locked his eyes with mine, giving him a mental image of the real Anna Reynolds. I held his mind until I was confident that he wouldn¡¯t remember a small, freckle-faced girl with curly hair and purple eyes. There was nothing that I could do about the security cameras, but I¡¯d been careful to stay within the confines of the vehicle.

    Before the Secession of the Western States, Las Vegas had been an entertainment mecca. After, The Coalition claimed eminent domain on the land to gain control of the hotel casinos, turning the rooms into mandatory living quarters for Las Vegas residents. Now, most of the residents lived on one street in the very center of the city limits¡ªLas Vegas Boulevard. Without their national funding, the states fell into disrepair. The Coalition herded most of their citizens into the cities, and set up border patrols to regulate all incoming and outgoing traffic. The residents lived in poverty when compared with those who resided in states still loyal to The Agency. The Coalition provided all of the necessities for their citizens, but nothing extraneous. Given all of this, it amazed me that people still sought refuge across the border just to escape the Mandatory Talent Testing Act.

    The Strip extended several miles. Towering forty-story casino-turned-apartment buildings lined both sides of the street, their splendor long forgotten. Cracked neon signs hung across the front of each complex, announcing the name: Caesars, Bellagio, New York, New York, Treasure Island, and The Wynn. An ancient monorail system connected the four miles of the Strip. At this time of night the trains were still, but I assumed they creaked unsteadily across the rickety rails when they ran during the day. Sky walkways allowed the inhabitants to cross the cracked street without having to navigate the uneven pavement below. Road- and hover-vehicles were rare here¡ªthey were too expensive for most Coalition citizens.

    After crossing the border, I made for the patch of neon lights that were like beacons in the black of night. Agency loyalists had filed the necessary paperwork to secure me an apartment several miles off the main strip. I flew over the few freestanding homes located inside the border. Without warning, the control panel on the dash started beeping. I glanced down nervously.

    ¡°Redirect route. Redirect route,¡± a mechanical voice cut through the quiet car. Shit! What was going on? This was not good!

    ¡°State reason,¡± I demanded, unsure if the vehicle would respond to my voice.

    ¡°Restricted airspace,¡± the mechanical voice answered. I called up the city map ingrained in my mind. Oh¡ªmy current course had me flying straight over Crane¡¯s temporary residence. I cut a wide arc to the right, straining to catch a glimpse of the home as I passed.

    It was only a matter of time before the owner of my borrowed hover-car reported it stolen. I scoured the area just past Crane¡¯s temporary housing for a hiding place for the vehicle. The land stretching in every direction was barren; there wasn¡¯t a single tree to conceal the vehicle from hover-cars searching from above. I was forced to double back to an unkempt house about ten miles from the Strip. I was tired, and the thought of running that far to my new apartment wasn¡¯t appealing, but the house appeared unoccupied. I didn¡¯t think that I would have a better option any closer to the center of the city.

    After landing, I stashed the car in an empty shed behind the house. I pulled a small bottle of Identi-scure from my pack, and sprayed every surface of the interior with the chemical, removing my fingerprints, hair, and skin cells. After replacing the bottle, I strapped my bag onto my back and set off at a brisk jog back toward the glowing lights.

    Almost an hour later, I arrived at the apartment. I did a quick sweep of it to make certain that I was alone. The apartment was almost as barebones as my cabin in Hunters Village. It had one main room, with well-worn carpeting that stretched from one paint-peeled wall to the next. The tiny bedroom held nothing more than a twin-sized bed, but the sheets at least appeared clean. A small white-tiled bathroom completed the apartment. Once I was satisfied that the apartment was safe, I stashed my backpack within arm¡¯s reach of the bed, undressed, and climbed in between the scratchy sheets.

    Unlike our safe houses, the apartment didn¡¯t have surveillance cameras or a command center; the only electronics that I¡¯d have access to were the ones I¡¯d brought with me. The apartment served one purpose¡ªa place for me to sleep. Many of my devices uploaded images directly back to the Crypto team at Headquarters, and that made me feel a little less lonely. Still, the only way that I could directly contact anybody within The Agency would be by activating the sub-dermal tracking chip that they¡¯d implanted in my hip.

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    The chip was only to be activated in the event of a ¡°true emergency¡±; the medic who¡¯d embedded it had reiterated this no less than ten times. Any non-emergency messages were to be relayed through TOXIC contacts that were scattered around the city. In return, I had assured him¡ªno less than ten times¡ªthat it would take a ¡°true emergency¡± for me to slice through the layers of skin, muscle, and tendon IN MY OWN HIP to remove the chip. If I somehow garnered the courage to cut myself, I would still need to keep my lunch down long enough to dig the transponder out of my flesh. Needless to say, it was completely unnecessary for him to worry that I might activate the chip for fun.

    Waking up after only a couple of hours of sleep, I went directly to the kitchen and rummaged through the cupboards. I stared contemplatively at the contents. On the one hand, there was food. On the other hand, the food was dehydrated fruits and meats. Hunger won out, and I grabbed several bags at random. I munched on dehydrated hen strips, sugary apricot slices, and banana pieces as I explored the space that I would now call home.

    I hadn¡¯t taken stock of the small closet in the main room the night before, but there I discovered a handful of plain cotton dresses. They were fashioned in the nondescript style that was common in Las Vegas since The Coalition¡¯s takeover. The floor of the closet held three pairs of identical leather sandals, very similar to the ones that I wore around Headquarters. Unlike Penny, clothes held very little interest to me. The dresses were much like my own everyday wardrobe¡ªboring. Loneliness and longing for Headquarters engulfed me. The sight of the familiar leather sandals comforted me slightly. Running my fingers across the stiff material, I reminded myself that the sooner I completed this mission, the sooner I could go home. Hopefully, I¡¯d find Crane in the process.

    After I had my fill of dried foods, I made my way to the shower. It was still pretty early, and I hadn¡¯t gotten much sleep, but I really wanted to get started right away.

    For my first venture out, I selected a sleeveless navy dress from the closet, paired with a thin, brown leather belt and brown leather sandals. I piled my curls on top of my head in a loose bun and popped in the facial-recognition eyeball lenses. I stared at myself in the small mirror over the sink in the bathroom. The lenses masked the purple of my eyes, making them appear to be murky brown, or ¡°normal¡±.

    I laughed at my reflection. I couldn¡¯t count the number of times that I¡¯d wished I didn¡¯t bear such an obvious Talent mark. Now, as I saw myself looking ¡°normal,¡± I realized that my purple eyes were just as much a part of my identity as my Mental Manipulation skills. Even though I still looked like myself for the most part, I felt completely different.

    I packed a small bag with the necessary imagers and communication devices and set off toward the Strip. There were several nearby bars that Ian Crane¡¯s men frequented, but it was too early for that. I decided that I would wander around the city to familiarize myself with my new surroundings.

    Uniformed Coalition men littered every corner. I had expected as much, but now that I was actually here, witnessing it firsthand, I realized that I¡¯d vastly underestimated the danger I was facing. My arrogance from the day before vanished. With my facial recognition lenses, I scanned every person bearing The Coalition insignia, hoping to get a hit.

    Around dinnertime, I made my way to a pub on the first level of the Bally¡¯s complex. The intel listed the bar as a known hangout for Crane¡¯s men. I hesitated outside the doors, my pulse quickening. Crane might be inside. I¡¯d played this scene in my head countless times over the past seven years, but now that I might actually come face-to-face with my parents¡¯ murderer, I was¡­dammit, I was scared. I was still the little girl in the closet, just a child. The speech that I¡¯d revised in my head numerous times for Crane before I killed him suddenly seemed inadequate. Maybe Henri had been right; maybe this hunt was too much for me.

    No, no, I chastised myself. I am strong. I am brave. I can do this. My combat skills might not be as developed as Erik¡¯s, and my analytical abilities might not be as strong as Henri¡¯s, but my talents, my mental abilities, were second to none. I¡¯d learned early on to control my powers; Mac had worked tirelessly to harness my raw power and convert it to controlled energy. I had been chosen for this hunt, not because it coincided with my graduation from school, but because I was the only TOXIC member with a chance of success.

    With my inner strength reinstated, I entered the pub; my head held high as the glass doors slid apart. The interior was dark and smelled of beer and stale cigarette smoke. Quickly, I shut down my sense of smell before disgust could show on my face. I forced myself to walk slowly and confidently up to the low bar. I pulled out a wooden stool and carefully perched on the edge. I crossed one leg over the other, allowing my dress to ride up my leg far enough to attract attention, but not far enough to give away the muscles resulting from my daily physical training. I spent so much time trying to blend in that it felt odd to purposely draw attention to myself.

    I caught the eye of a young guy sitting at the other end of the bar. He wasn¡¯t overly unfortunate looking, so I gave him the most dazzling smile I could muster. Either he rarely saw girls, or Penny¡¯s flirting lessons were paying off because he returned my smile with one of his own.

    My left eye lens scrolled quickly through TOXIC¡¯s facial database. My right lens displayed the man¡¯s bio in barely-distinguishable print. I focused on the feel of the lens in my eye until it brought the words into sharper focus. I found what I was looking for--he was definitely one of Crane¡¯s men.

    Buy me a drink, I ordered, not breaking eye contact. He signaled for the bartender without taking his eyes off me, and ordered me a fruity alcohol drink. The bartender wasted no time filling the man¡¯s order.

    Bring it to me yourself, I mentally barked, when the bartender set the drink in front of him. Nerves made my commands stronger than I intended, but that probably wasn¡¯t a bad thing. The man slid off the edge of his stool with his drink in one hand and mine in the other, making his way over to me. I kept my smile firmly in place as anxiety twisted my insides.

    ¡°You look thirsty,¡± he quipped, handing me the fruity drink.

    ¡°Parched,¡± I replied, reaching for the glass.

    ¡°I¡¯m Kyle,¡± he introduced himself. Up close, I noticed how young he was; Kyle couldn¡¯t have been more than a couple of years older than me. His blonde hair was in need of a good shampooing, and his clothes were slightly rumpled, but his amber eyes were friendly and inviting.

    ¡°Anna.¡± I offered my free hand, and he took it delicately in his. I swallowed the urge to flinch and withdraw from his touch. Instead, I plastered a smile on my face.

    ¡°Mind if I sit with you?¡± he asked shyly.

    ¡°Be my guest,¡± I squeaked, all traces of my earlier composure gone. Sure, I was still confident in my ability to control him. Now, I just wasn¡¯t sure that I wanted to.

    Kyle climbed onto the stool next to me. I pulled my dress down, covering the leg that I¡¯d exposed in hopes of attracting attention. I wasn¡¯t sure that I could mentally handle more than one of Crane¡¯s men.

    Kyle and I chatted easily over dinner and several more drinks. I used my Talents to convince him that he needed to frequent the restroom, giving me opportunities to pour my drinks out on the grimy floor. I tried my best to act drunk, but I wasn¡¯t really sure that it mattered since Kyle was actually drunk.

    Several of Kyle¡¯s associates¡ªalso Crane¡¯s men¡ªstopped by to introduce themselves to me. I did my best to appear to be a young, drunk girl that was new to the city. I chanced peeking in to several of their minds to confirm they were buying my act; none were overly suspicious.

    Offer to walk me home, I demanded as the night wound down.

    ¡°Can I walk you home?¡± Kyle slurred.

    ¡°Thanks, I¡¯d like that,¡± I trilled in my best drunk-girl voice. Kyle shot me a genuine smile, and I almost felt guilty. He paid our bill and stumbled off his stool, offering me his arm. I gritted my teeth and looped my arm underneath his. Flirting with him was bad enough; touching him was almost unbearably. We walked toward the exit of the pub in a cacophony of catcalls from his cohorts. I resisted the urge to turn around and attack.

    My apartment was several blocks away. Kyle rambled drunkenly the entire walk.

    Ask to see me tomorrow, I ordered when we reached the street-level door to my apartment. I doubted that any of Crane¡¯s men were watching, but I didn¡¯t want to make any mistakes.

    ¡°Anna, I would love to see you tomorrow,¡± Kyle stated.

    ¡°I¡¯d like that, too,¡± I smiled back at him. He leaned in as if to kiss me, and I recoiled, waves of disgust washing over me. He drew back, shocked at my refusal.

    Realizing my mistake, I went with the first thought that popped into my head. I envisioned kissing Erik. I summoned the feelings that his lips on mine evoked, and then projected those feelings toward Kyle. The sides of his mouth curled into a dopey grin, and his amber eyes had a faraway look. His body gave a silent shudder as a small moan escaped his lips. I really hoped I didn¡¯t actually look like that when Erik kissed me.

    ¡°That was awesome,¡± he muttered, brushing his fingertips across his bottom lip.

    ¡°I thought so, too,¡± I replied quietly.

    ¡°I¡¯ll see you tomorrow? Seven o¡¯clock at the pub?¡± he asked, without prompting.

    ¡°Sure,¡± I whispered.

    ¡°¡¯Night.¡± He stood there a moment longer. I needed him to leave. I¡¯d been biting back tears since I¡¯d conjured up the mental image of kissing Erik.

    Leave, I finally ordered, when it became obvious that he wasn¡¯t going to on his own. With that, he stumbled down the street without looking back. I hurried up the stairs to my apartment, mentally pushing open the door to my unit and rushing through. I ran straight for the bedroom, slamming the front door behind me as I went.

 Chapter Thirty-Four: The One Behind Enemy Lines

    Collapsing on the bed, I hugged my knees to my chest and rocked back and forth. Tears leaked around the eye lenses, pooling in the corners of my eyes before falling in tiny streams down my cheeks. Physically and mentally, I could do this. All night I¡¯d easily controlled Kyle, bending and twisting his will like a pretzel. I¡¯d also established tenuous connections with several of Crane¡¯s other men¡ªjust enough of a link for a quick swipe of their thoughts. I barely felt tired from my efforts.

    Emotionally though? I couldn¡¯t have been further away from being prepared and strong. I wasn¡¯t sure how I had managed to get through the last several hours. I hated the way I was acting, hated what I was doing. I reminded myself that it was all just a means to an end, and the end was very important.

    I sat, curled in a ball on the bed until the lenses began to burn my eyes, reminding me they needed to come out. Unfolding my legs, I fished out my bag of gadgets from under the bed. I popped each lens out and placed them in their designated compartment in my Communicator. I turned the Communicator on and searched for an Agency frequency to transmit the facial information I¡¯d collected. I was connected in seconds. I uploaded the images and reached to disconnect the device. My index finger hovered over the terminate button for a moment longer than it should have.

    ¡°I know you won¡¯t be able to hear or see me, but I¡¯ll be there on the other end of all your communications,¡± Penny had said to me. I hoped that was true.

    I pulled off my dress, disgusted by the beer and grease stains from where Kyle had touched me. I threw it in a crumpled heap in the corner of the tiny bedroom. The apartment was so hot that I decided against wearing anything to bed. Instead, I stretched out on the mattress and tried to clear my mind so I could fall asleep. When that didn¡¯t work, I reached in my bag and pulled out Erik¡¯s note.

    I ran my fingers over the tightly folded white square, tracing the letters of my name with the ragged nail of my right index finger. I chewed nervously on the corner of my bottom lip.

    ¡°For when you¡¯re ready to hear it,¡± I whispered, reading Erik¡¯s words out loud. I had no idea what to expect. How would I know when I was ready? What about Erik¡¯s childhood was so bad that I had to ready myself to hear it? My parents were murdered in front of me; how much worse could it get?

    I flipped the note over and over in my hands. I straightened the intricately folded paper triangles that threaded into one another¡ªsecuring Erik¡¯s secrets inside. I couldn¡¯t muster the strength to smooth the crinkles and read their contents; I guess I wasn¡¯t ready. Laying his letter on the pillow next to my head, I stared at the small shape until my eyelids were too heavy to hold open.

    I woke up with the sun the next morning. I tried to fall back asleep since I had no reason to get up so early, but the morning sun had kicked up the temperature in the apartment until it was uncomfortably hot. Dragging myself to the bathroom, I turned only the cold-water knob in the shower. The bite of the frigid water abruptly woke my senses.

    I fished a purple dress, much like the blue one that was still crumpled on the floor, out of the small closet and quickly dressed. I wanted to leave my curls loose around my face, but knew I¡¯d be too hot. I settled for piling my hair into a messy up-do on the top of my head. Today, I selected the camera eye lenses and popped them in one at a time. I debated strapping a knife belt to my waist, just in case, but decided against it, opting for just one blade fastened to my left thigh.

    Today, my goal was to get ground images of the outside of Crane¡¯s compound. I had all of the aerial images and floor plans that the Cryptos had compiled, but I figured that more intel could never hurt. There was always a possibility that I¡¯d learn something new. Crane¡¯s residence was set several miles back from the Strip, surrounded by yards of metal fencing. There wasn¡¯t much around the home, so I needed to be careful to remain unseen.

    My dress clung to my sweaty skin as I approached the gates. There were no guards stationed outside, but the fence surrounding the property was likely charged with electricity. I blinked furiously as I strolled the length of the metal cage, my eyes trying to take pictures of every inch of the exterior. The house itself was a stone architectural masterpiece. It stood four stories high and stretched the length of three average-sized houses. Ornately carved double wooden doors marked the main entrance to the home, and large windows with dark curtains dotted the front face.

    I opened my mind as I walked and felt a buzz of activity from within. There were so many people inside that I couldn¡¯t get an exact count, but I estimated somewhere between twenty and thirty. I was able to determine that no humans were patrolling the exterior, but I could feel animal minds. I¡¯m not as good with animal minds as I am with human ones; I could determine the general location of the animals, but nothing exact. I did know that they were behind the back of the house, and they were all real animals¡ªno Morphers. I wanted to get images of the back and sides of the house, but the animals might give me away.

    Heading back to my apartment, I felt somewhat dejected. The images that I¡¯d been able to get didn¡¯t give me any new or different information.

    I flopped onto the uncomfortable blue couch in the living room/kitchen area with several handfuls of dried beef jerky and crystallized purple plums. The food was dry and unappetizing, but I was starving and would have eaten twigs if they were put in front of me. I uploaded the images to my Communicator, only to confirm that none were useful, and my morning had been a waste. I groaned in frustration.

    After I ate, I still had several hours until I was supposed to meet Kyle. I spread out on the bed and tried not to move too much; I didn¡¯t want to sweat any more than absolutely necessary. I pulled out Erik¡¯s letter again. Staring at his familiar handwriting, I felt a little less lonely. My sweaty fingers smudged the ink as I traced the letters of my name.

    An hour before I was due to meet Kyle, I showered again, partially to calm my nerves and partially to get the salty layer of sweat off my body. The sun had already set, and the temperature had cooled slightly, but it was still warmer than I was accustomed to. I opted for another dress, even though I knew that if things went south, the dress was likely to hamper my movements. I selected a relatively short, loose-fitting dress from the closet. I elected to go with the weapons belt this time, feeling immediately safer once it was slung across my hips. The dress had pockets in the folds of the skirt, and I cut the lining open so when I reached into the dress through the pockets, I could easily grab the blades from my belt. I still had the camera lenses in my eyes, but just in case I needed the others, I stuffed them in the small bag I¡¯d carried last night. Erik¡¯s letter, still sitting on the bed, caught my attention. On impulse, I grabbed it and threw it in, too. Having it close to me almost made it feel like he was here with me. I took a last deep, calming breath before heading out the door to meet Kyle.

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    The pub was crawling with Coalition men when I arrived. I immediately went on high alert. Two Coalition men were stationed by the glass doors, searching everyone before they entered. Crap--no way could I let them search me. I could mentally convince them not to, but if others noticed, the situation could get out of control quickly. I started to panic. What to do, what to do?

    ¡°Anna!¡± Kyle called, walking through the door and pulling me out of the line. ¡°She¡¯s with me,¡± he said to his cohorts. The guards each gave me a curt nod. I gave them a thin smile in return, being sure to blink as I looked at each man. Kyle led me to a small table along the wall farthest from the bar. He even pulled out the chair for me. His small, gentlemanly gesture sent a pang of guilt through me. I hated using him; even if he were the enemy, he¡¯d been so nice to me. I surveyed my surroundings, blinking as quickly as I could in order to get as many pictures as were feasible.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on? Why all the security?¡± I asked innocently. I already knew the answer; Ian Crane was either here or on his way here.

    ¡°President Crane is here,¡± he nodded to someone over my left shoulder.

    Snapping my head around, I searched and finally locked eyes with him. Everything seemed to go silent, as if the only two people who occupied the room were Crane and me. A tidal wave of rage nearly consumed me. I felt rabid, and the only conscious thought that I could form was attack. I felt my nose twitch as my lips curled into a snarl. Clenching my fists at my sides, I dug my fingernails sharply into the fleshiest part of my palms. The pain brought me back to reality. Focus, I ordered myself. Killing Crane in front of all these people is a bad idea.

    I blinked slowly, hoping to get a clear picture of his face. My eyes were dry from wearing the lenses all day, and I felt the one in my right eye slip. I froze. It was unlikely that Ian Crane¡¯s sight was as good as mine, so the rational part of me knew that there was no way he¡¯d noticed from across the room. Even if he¡¯d seen the purple iris, it didn¡¯t really mean anything; not all people with off-colored eyes were Talents. I was willing to bet that many people in Coalition territories wore lenses to hide their true eye color.

    I opened my mind to make Ian Crane forget what he¡¯d seen, if he¡¯d seen anything. But as soon as I opened it, I snapped it shut again.

    When I first went to the McDonough School, Mac had taught me the sense-strengthening exercises that I still used today. In return, I trained Mac¡¯s mind. I taught Mac to identify mental intrusions and, eventually, to block them. I was willing to bet that, despite Ian Crane¡¯s stance on Talents, he¡¯d had similar coaching.

    He held my gaze for a second too long to be chance. When Ian Crane finally looked away, he turned to the man on his right, careful to conceal his lips as he whispered in his ear. The man gave a quick nod and took off toward the door. Panic now warred with my fury. Did he know who I was?

    Gritting my teeth, I swallowed over the lump in my throat. I couldn¡¯t be sure if Crane had been conditioned against mental intrusions, but I was positive that he could feel that something was different about me; the realization was written all over his face.

    Mac had often said that most people can feel exceptionally strong Talents, and he¡¯d explained that¡¯s why most people have some sort of reaction to me. For some, the power that a strong Talent exudes can cause them to shy away. For others, the power was like a drug, drawing them to us. By the way that Ian Crane had just looked at me, I knew that he was a mixture of both. I didn¡¯t need to read his mind to know that he feared the power he didn¡¯t, and couldn¡¯t, understand. Yet he also craved it, wanted to be close to it.

    Crane knew, just by my presence, that I was exceptionally strong. The Coalition, and Crane by extension, might reject the idea of being Talented, but with just one look, Crane had confirmed that his inner circle consisted of strong, rare Talents. He was clearly intrigued by them, drawn to them.

    Kyle was talking about something that I¡¯d missed entirely, but luckily he seemed oblivious to my blank stares and lack of response. I let him babble on, being sure to insert the appropriate ¡°oh really¡± to feign interest. In reality, I was plotting my next move.

    I¡¯d prepared myself to go into Crane¡¯s residence tonight, but I¡¯d hoped that it was going to be a first of many, a ¡°get myself acquainted¡± kind of trip. Now it looked more like it would be a quick and dirty kind of trip. Mac was not going to be happy.

    I ran through a mental checklist of the items in my bag; I had all three pairs of eye lenses and my portable Communicator. Once inside, I would be able to take as many pictures as the number of times I could blink. If all went according to plan, I wouldn¡¯t come face-to-face with Ian Crane. If I managed to avoid Crane tonight, I would be able to use Kyle a little longer. If things didn¡¯t go according to plan, I would be forced to make a hasty escape from Nevada. My only hope was that I¡¯d be able to take Crane¡¯s life with me.

    The waitress arrived with our dinner, bringing me back to the present and out of my head. I forced myself to eat the chunky beef and vegetable stew that Kyle had ordered for me. I was going to need all of my strength tonight. All I¡¯d eaten today was the dried meats and fruits in the cabinets at my apartment.

    Take me back to Crane¡¯s house, I ordered Kyle, as soon as I finished inhaling the stew. Kyle immediately threw some money on the table, grabbed my hand, and began leading me out of the pub. Several of Crane¡¯s other men watched us wind our way through the crowded tables, but nobody tried to stop us. I took that as a good sign.

    Crane himself was holding court in the center of the room. His eyes bore into my back as I walked past his table. Holding my breath, I willed myself to act normal. The urge to attack him was still strong; I gripped fistfuls of my dress in my balled-up hands to keep from lashing out.

    You overhead us saying that we¡¯re going back to my apartment, I directed to the guards as we passed by and out of the pub. I wasn¡¯t positive that it stuck in either man¡¯s mind since I didn¡¯t make eye contact¡ªnot a necessity, but it definitely helped. Though, I did see one guard giving the other a knowing smile out of the corner of my eye.

    I was firmly tuned in to Kyle¡¯s mind; his every thought was filling my own head, as if he were speaking out loud. His inner monologue consisted mostly of thoughts that simultaneously disgusted me and made me blush. It was odd being connected to the mind of somebody who didn¡¯t know that I was in there. Sure, I sometimes read the minds of people around me, but I¡¯d learned early on that I really didn¡¯t want to hear every thought that passed through somebody else¡¯s subconscious.

    Donavon, Erik, and Henri had permitted me to read their thoughts. But all three guarded parts of their minds that they didn¡¯t want me to have access to. In return, I didn¡¯t dig around to find out information that they didn¡¯t want me to know. Well, I rarely dug around in Henri¡¯s mind. I admittedly took some liberties with Erik¡¯s, but in my defense, Erik could always tell when I was in his mind, and he¡¯d never told me to get out. I thought my connection with Donavon had been more absolute, but seeing as he managed to keep an entire affair from me, I knew there were recesses of his mind I¡¯d never penetrated.

    I felt bad openly listening to Kyle¡¯s mind. It felt wrong and dirty, as if I¡¯d made him take off his clothes and sit naked while I interrogated him. I had to keep reminding myself that I was one of the good guys, and he was one of the bad guys. He was associated with the people who¡¯d killed my parents and tried to kill me¡­would have killed me.

 Chapter Thirty-Five: The One with the Trap

    Kyle drove us the short distance from the pub back to Crane¡¯s temporary residence. I took note of the passcode he entered at the gate as the numbers flashed through his mind. Once inside the barrier, he pulled around to the back of the stone house. I blinked rapidly, turning my head from side to side, taking as many pictures as I could. Kyle parked the vehicle in a small, relatively empty lot behind the house. He turned to face me, one hand on the button that opened the vehicle doors. His thoughts turned anxious; he was having misgivings about bringing a stranger into Crane¡¯s home.

    I gave him the most dazzling smile that I could manage. Crane won¡¯t mind. I¡¯m just a young girl. I won¡¯t cause any trouble, I coaxed. His face relaxed, and his thoughts returned to indecent. He pressed the button, opening the doors. I walked around from my side and took his large meaty hand in my small one, calloused and scabbed from all my weapons and combat training. I realized my mistake a moment too late. His eyes grew wide as he ran his thumb across the pads of my palm. I told you that I worked on my parent¡¯s farm, I quickly covered. His face smoothed as he recalled a memory that wasn¡¯t his own¡ªthe one that I¡¯d just implanted.

    Kyle led me up a stone walkway to the back of the house, where a guard stood watch. He had a large scoped rifle slung over one shoulder and two smaller guns holstered at his waist.

    ¡°Kyle,¡± he called. ¡°Who¡¯s your friend?¡±

    ¡°Hey, Dan, this is Anna,¡± Kyle called back.

    ¡°You know that you¡¯re not supposed to bring visitors here,¡± his tone was disapproving, ¡°even if they are cute little girls.¡± He slowly ran his eyes up and down the length of my body. I felt the overwhelming urge to shower. Anger and annoyance bubbled up inside of me. I understand that at just shy of five feet, I¡¯m small, but ¡°little girl¡±? He was lucky that I had yet to get what I came for, or else I would show him who was a little girl. I took several deep breaths to control my temper.

    It will be okay just this once, I directed toward both Dan and Kyle.

    ¡°I guess it will be okay just this once,¡± they said in unison.

    ¡°I will need to search you and your bag,¡± Dan insisted. I had a feeling that this had more to do with his skeevy nature than fear that I might actually be armed.

    Not necessary. Just let us in, I ordered. Dan moved aside, letting us pass, but not before giving me another once-over. I shuddered.

    The interior of the house was dark, but my eyes adjusted quickly.

    Lead me to your room now, I ordered more forcefully than I intended. Kyle tripped over his own feet as he set off in the direction of his room at a near-run, dragging me along with him. As soon as we walked through his room door, I mentally pushed the door shut and engaged the lock. Kyle¡¯s eyes widened.

    Lie down on your bed and go to sleep, I ordered. When you wake up, you will remember taking me home. Kyle obediently lay on top of his blankets. I filled his head with a distorted mental image of myself. Many of Crane¡¯s men had seen us together and could describe me, but conflicting descriptions might buy me some time later. I waited until his breathing fell into an even rhythm before creeping out of his room, locking the door behind me.

    I envisioned the floor plan for the house that I¡¯d painstakingly committed to memory. Aware that my time was limited, I headed directly for Ian Crane¡¯s office. I blinked rapidly, taking pictures as I jogged silently through the long hallways and up several flights of stairs. I reached the heavy wooden doors of his office in under a minute. Placing my hand on the wood panels, I opened my mind, searching for people inside. There was no one. I forced the lock and slid the door open, just enough for me to squeeze through. Mentally, I closed and locked the door behind me. I reminded myself to breathe.

    Slowly, I scanned each wall with my eyes. I opened and closed them at a slow, even pace, praying that the pictures would be useful. After I was satisfied, I moved to Crane¡¯s desk. I was no Crypto, and my knowledge of computers was limited, but I followed Blaine¡¯s instructions for uploading the contents of the computer to my Communicator. I connected my portable Communicator to the computer, and it turned it on. A screen appeared on the monitor, asking for a password. I typed a sequence of numbers into my Communicator and waited while it worked. Blaine had explained that the Communicator was programmed with code-cracking software; several agonizing seconds later, a password box on Crane¡¯s computer filled with a row of black dots. It beeped loudly three times, and then ¡°password confirmed¡± appeared on the blue screen. The screen went blank, and then numbers, letters and symbols appeared, scrolling white against a now-black background.

    Blaine had warned me that this might happen. He¡¯d explained that everything on the computer was likely encrypted, and to just download the information ¡°as is¡± and let the Cryptos sort it out. I checked the screen of my Communicator; the words ¡°download started¡± appeared, followed by ¡°download in progress.¡±

    While the download ran, I rifled through Crane¡¯s desk. Most of the drawers were locked, so I mentally disengaged all of the bolts at once and drew them out on their runners. I didn¡¯t actually know what I was looking for. Mac said to gather as much information as I could, so I began taking pictures of each and every document that I came across. When the download finished, I decided that my next stop would be the basement.

    The floor plan included underground dimensions that ran the length of the house. The aerial and satellite images that the Cryptos had weren¡¯t able to determine what was down there. The most likely answer was a laboratory. Whatever it was, it had to be important to warrant so much protection surrounding it; the Cryptos hadn¡¯t been able to get clear images because the entire basement was shrouded in some type of image-blocking technology.

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    Opening my mind, I pinpointed all of the men in the house. I tiptoed from Crane¡¯s office down a lengthy hallway, and wound through the house until I found the basement door. I paused. I couldn¡¯t sense any active minds behind the door, but it wasn¡¯t because there weren¡¯t any. When I opened my mind, I met resistance, but not the kind that indicated an absence of human brain activity. I pushed harder, but it was like pushing against a brick wall. Not good. I placed my hand on the door to the basement and tried to disengage the lock. Nothing happened¡ªreally not good. I tried once more, for good measure. Nothing.

    At school, Donavon and I had often found our way into restricted areas. Biometrically protected areas, I could easily handle. Security guards? Not a problem for somebody like me. But actual blocking technology? This was more advanced than anything that TOXIC utilized. The School¡¯s security measures were in place to keep out overly curious kids, but nothing like this. Even Elite Headquarters didn¡¯t employ such advanced security measures.

    Brute force it was. With my mental faculties rendered useless, I had no other option. I was not super-humanly strong, but I did train for physical combat almost every day of my life. The door was definitely alarmed; once I broke the lock, I forfeited any element of surprise that I currently had.

    Since I knew the general layout of the basement, I knew that there was an exit to the outside. I weighed my options. Whatever was behind this door was important. I knew that it was important going into the mission, but the fact that there was some type of protection that rendered my talents useless meant that whatever was down there was really important. There was no question in my mind¡ªthe risk was worth it. I would get in, take as many pictures as I could, and then make for the exit door. I took several calming breaths, slipped off my sandals, and then backed up several feet. I closed my eyes, cleared my mind, and prepared myself for the worst.

    I launched myself at the keypad next to the door. My bare heel made contact, crushing the keypad in one blow. Plastic cut the bottom of my foot, but I didn¡¯t feel pain. I pulled the dangling fragments of the keypad from the wall, exposing the wiring. Reaching through the pocket of my dress, I withdrew a knife from the belt around my waist. I began slicing through wires at random, praying that one would unlock the door. I breathed a sigh of relief when the door whined and eased itself open. No alarms had gone off when I broke the keypad, but that only meant that they were silent. There was no way that a facility with so much protection wasn¡¯t also alarmed.

    Immediately behind the door was a set of steep metal steps, so long that I couldn¡¯t see the bottom in the dark. I worried for a split second that the security that was in place wouldn¡¯t allow me to focus my energy, but thankfully, my fears were unfounded. I concentrated on my sight. My eyes adjusted to the absolute darkness in no time. Fearing that I¡¯d already wasted precious time that I didn¡¯t have, I tore down the staircase.

    At the bottom of the steps, I made a snap decision and turned to the right. I ran down the corridor, mentally trying to open the doors lining either side; I was surprised to find that the doors responded to my mental talent. The protections only worked to keep people outside from getting in. I searched for human minds, but I¡¯d waited too long.

    Just as my mind registered a flurry of mental activity in a room just ahead to my right, a huge man stepped through the door. I couldn¡¯t stop myself in time. I barreled into him. His hands closed around my upper arms, gripping them so tightly I knew that I would bruise. Instinct took over, and I brought my knee up, directly into his groin. He groaned, but didn¡¯t release me. His vice-like grip let up just enough for me to maneuver my hand into my pocket. I withdrew the first knife that my hand closed around, and I didn¡¯t hesitate when I plunged it into his side.

    This time, he released me. His hands sought the wound between his ribs. I took the opportunity to take the offensive. I kicked behind his left knee. His legs buckled and he fell over. I aimed my next kick at his left kidney. He fell over flat on his stomach. I was on his back before he could react. I wrapped my right arm around his neck, cutting off his air supply. He reached back, clawing at my face. He tried to pry my arm from around his throat, but he was quickly losing consciousness. When his body finally went limp, I released my hold and eased his head to the floor.

    Preoccupied with the large man on the floor, I didn¡¯t sense the second man come out of the room until it was too late. I craned my neck at the sound of his soft footfalls, just in time to see the glint of the silver needle before I felt the prick in the side of my neck. I looked up into the bright green eyes of the man holding the syringe. The metallic burn of chemicals filled my veins. So, this was how I was going to die. I¡¯d hoped it would be more dramatic. I couldn¡¯t even lift a finger to save myself before everything went black.

    When I came to, I wasn¡¯t dead, but I kind of wished I was. My head throbbed. A metallic taste filled my mouth¡ªnot blood, a chemical of some kind. I wished that it were blood. My vision was fuzzy, and I blinked several times in rapid succession, trying to clear the haze from my eyes. I was still wearing the lenses. Frantically, I turned my head from side to side, getting as many pictures of the room as possible. The room looked as if it belonged in one of TOXIC¡¯s medical buildings. Several hospital-type beds were evenly spaced against the wall. Each bed had electronic monitors and a tray of syringes set up next to it. If I ever got out of here, these would be valuable.

    I only moved my head from side to side because that was all I could move. I looked down. I was strapped down, my wrists and ankles shackled to the railings. Two leather straps, one across my chest, one across my hips, immobilized my body. I tugged on the restraints, testing their strength. They were pretty sturdy.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to hurt you, Talia,¡± a deep voice boomed. A tall, thin man walked into the room. His salt and pepper hair was closely cut; his coal-black eyes were small and beady in their deep sockets. Three heavily armed guards trailed in his wake.

    My blood turned to ice in my veins as I locked eyes with Ian Crane. The chemical cocktail injection must¡¯ve been playing tricks with my brain because I thought I just heard him call me Talia. He couldn¡¯t know my name. He couldn¡¯t know who I was.

    I was on the verge of a full-blown panic attack; my chest heaved against the leather strap. I inhaled deeply through my nose. When I blew out the breath, it hissed through my clenched teeth. I mentally slapped myself. I needed to get control of myself. Only then could I gain control of the situation.

    ¡°Yes, I know who you are, Talia. Natalia Lyons. And I assume you know who I am?¡± Crane continued. Who was the mind reader here? When I didn¡¯t respond, he pushed on. ¡°Just hear me out, Talia. I think you might be interested in what I have to say.¡±

 Chapter Thirty-Six: The One with the Villain Speech

    ¡°I have nothing to say to you,¡± I spat, my temper flaring. Crane nodded to the closest of his armed men. The man began walking towards me.

    Fear gripped me again. I am going to die. I am going to die. I AM GOING TO DIE.

    Long-buried memories clawed their way to the surface of my mind. The shot claiming my father¡¯s life rang in my ears. The sight of my mother¡¯s life pouring from her neck clouded my vision. I was not going to die this way. I might die tonight, but not before I killed Crane.

    I yanked at my restraints, but they remained unyielding. My eyes darted around the room, looking for something, anything to help me. Crane¡¯s man was leaning over me.

    NO, I mentally screamed at him. He halted. I concentrated hard, filling his head with a noise so high-pitched that usually only dogs could hear it. His hands flew to his ears. He dropped to his knees, blood trickling through the gaps between the fingers of one hand. The other men looked at each other uncomfortably. Crane gave me a smile that didn¡¯t quite reach his eyes.

    ¡°You are quite a Talent, as I believe TOXIC calls it, Talia.¡± The repetition of my name unnerved me, and I snapped. I pushed my mental energies out towards everyone in the room. Crane¡¯s men collapsed to their knees around him, shrieking. Only Crane himself seemed unaffected by my abilities, confirming my suspicion that he¡¯d been conditioned against mental attack.

    I gave another go at my restraints, this time with my mind. The solid metal shackles split with a screech. I yanked my wrists free, tearing a large jagged cut on my left wrist. I concentrated on my ankle shackles until they tore cleanly down the seams. Rolling onto my feet, I readied myself to attack Crane.

    ¡°No need to get physical, Talia. I just want to talk,¡± he said, holding his hands up as if to show me that he didn¡¯t want trouble.

    ¡°I already told you, I have nothing to say to you,¡± I growled.

    ¡°You don¡¯t need to say anything. Just listen,¡± his smile faltered for the first time.

    ¡°You killed my parents,¡± I said in a low, even voice that was too cruel to be mine.

    ¡°Your parents¡¯ deaths were a regrettable consequence of war,¡± he argued. If I didn¡¯t know better, I¡¯d have thought that the expression in his beady little eyes was pain.

    ¡°Consequence of war? Is that what you¡¯ll say about my death¡ªit was a consequence of war?¡± I demanded.

    ¡°Isn¡¯t that how TOXIC justifies all their kill missions?¡± he asked lightly.

    ¡°TOXIC doesn¡¯t kill innocent people,¡± I fired back.

    ¡°Really? You know nothing about what your Agency does to innocent people,¡± he shouted, his control slipping.

    ¡°TOXIC has taught me to use my abilities, to become a more complete person. You and your Coalition would subjugate Talents if you had your way,¡± I screamed back.

    ¡°And what do you think your Agency does, Talia? What do you think the Mandatory Talent Testing Act does? It enslaves you.¡± His black eyes burned into me, as if he were willing me to share his views.

    ¡°Mac has taught me to use my abilities for good,¡± I argued.

    ¡°Danbury McDonough? You think he has taught you to use your abilities? Talia, you don¡¯t even realize how strong you are! Or what you are capable of! He has only taught you enough to make you compliant, to make you his minion. Your powers are so much stronger than any Talent I¡¯ve ever met,¡± he sounded almost reverent when he said the last part.

    ¡°Is this where you tell me that you can teach me to use my Talents better than Mac did?¡± I asked sardonically. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t even know where to begin.¡±

    ¡°I already know how to use your gifts better than you do!¡± he yelled.

    ¡°Really? And who could have possibly taught you that?¡± I demanded, narrowing my eyes at him.

    ¡°Your father,¡± he spat.

    I was momentarily speechless at the mention of my father. My hands started to twitch, and the primal urge to attack overtook me. I wasn¡¯t going to stand here and listen to him tell lies about my family. I lunged for Crane.

    ¡°Talia, please listen to me.¡± His tone held a note of desperation. A red haze was already beginning in my peripheral vision; I was beyond listening. My bloodlust-filled screams mingled with the pained screams of Crane¡¯s men, many of whom were still writhing in pain on the floor.

    Crane shielded himself with his hands, as I crashed into him. I knocked him to the floor, landing on top of him. Crane grabbed for my wrists to restrain me, managing to wrap one large hand around my injured arm. I punched him with my free hand, my fist connecting with his cheekbone and producing a satisfying crunch. Crane didn¡¯t even flinch. I raised my hand to strike again as I heard footsteps behind me. I felt three more men rush into the already too-crowded room. The lead man raised his gun.

    ¡°NO!¡± Crane screamed, but it was too late¡ªthe man fired. I deflected the bullets with my mind. He fired again¡­and again¡­and again. He emptied the entire clip into the room, but all of his bullets hung in midair until I let them drop harmlessly to the floor. I turned my attention back to Crane.

    ¡°Talia, please,¡± he begged. His eyes grew as wide as saucers as he stared at something behind me.

    I turned to see the first man was locked, reloaded and poised to fire again. I went for the gun this time. I mentally yanked it out of the man¡¯s hand, but not before he squeezed the trigger with his index finger. Pain exploded in my back, just above my left hip. A bloodcurdling scream tore from my lips. I stretched my mental muscles to the breaking point, making the men in the doorway fall to the ground, incapacitated. I jumped off of Crane. Pain seared white-hot as I moved.

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    I was afraid to look at my wound. I needed to leave. I was using so much mental energy, and I wouldn¡¯t be able to keep it up much longer. I needed to get to safety. I needed to get out of Nevada. I tried to formulate a plan, but the pain was excruciating, preventing me from thinking straight. Erik did me no favors by easing my pain when I¡¯d been stabbed; maybe if I¡¯d learned how to think through the pain, I wouldn¡¯t be so ineffectual now.

    A thought struck me. I fell to my knees next to Crane. I grabbed his already-swelling face and locked his eyes with mine. I tried boring into his mind, but it was like when I mentally tried to reach through the door upstairs. His defenses were even better than I¡¯d first thought. Whoever had trained him was extremely talented, at least as talented as I was, maybe even more so.

    ¡°Let me in,¡± I growled. Black spots dotted my vision. I worried that I was going to pass out before I broke through his resistance. Pure desperation fueled my last-ditch attempt to break Ian Crane. Just as the blackness at the edge of my vision grew larger, threatening to render me blind, I felt the fight go out of Crane. His mental barriers gave way, sending me toppling into his mind.

    I focused on the physical pain, forcing the agony from my body to his. The pain slowly eased, before disappearing completely. Crane¡¯s face contorted. He curled into the fetal position, screams escaping through his pursed lips. I sat back on my heels, panting from the exertion. I watched him for several seconds, our earlier conversation replaying in my mind: his mention of my father; his argument about the Mandatory Talent Testing Act. You don¡¯t have time for this¡ªMOVE! I ordered myself.

    I needed to stop the bleeding. I mentally pulled cabinets and drawers open, searching for something, anything; this was a medical facility, after all. I found towels and gauze first. I pressed the towel over the wound, and Crane screamed louder. I used the gauze to hold the towel in place as best I could. Grabbing several extra towels and an extra roll of gauze, I stuffed them into my pouch. The bag was now devoid of my gadgets, thanks, I assumed, to Crane¡¯s men.

    I bent over one of Crane¡¯s men curled in a ball on the floor, unable to do anything but whimper; I divested him of his own weapons. Guns were not my first choice¡ªdespite all the target practice, I had horrible aim¡ªbut I was desperate and had no idea where to find my knife belt. I gave one last look at Crane, a million questions burning in my mind.

    ¡°Talia, please listen to me,¡± he urged through my pain.

    ¡°You killed my parents,¡± I said softly.

    ¡°No, no.¡± He shook his head from side to side. I heard faint footsteps and judged them to be coming down the metal steps.

    Two options warred in my head. I desperately wanted to kill Ian Crane, but I also desperately wanted to live to fight another day. I couldn¡¯t do both. My abilities were already stretched to the breaking point, and it was unlikely that I¡¯d be able to control more people mentally if the more men caught me.

    I may have transferred the pain to Crane, but I was still the one not-so-slowly bleeding to death. I was physically too weak to fight. My only chance of survival was to run, and if I ran, I needed to keep the pain at bay as long as possible. I didn¡¯t know how long I could hold Crane¡¯s mind. I did know that if I killed him, the pain would transfer back to me and I wouldn¡¯t get as far as the door. I chose self-preservation, a decision that would haunt me for a long time. With one last glance down at Crane, I turned and ran for the exit.

    I easily navigated my way through the maze of corridors in the basement, and burst through the door that I knew to be the exit. I found myself at the bottom of a concrete staircase. I ran up the steps without hesitation, my eyes darting from side to side as I tried to get my bearings. I was behind the stone house, not far from where Kyle had parked the vehicle. I ran straight to the parking lot.

    Luck was on my side¡ªthe first car that I tried was unlocked. I threw open the door and fell in. I mentally started the engine and took off, without bothering to determine whether I was being pursued.

    The hover-vehicle rose and cleared the high fence, but a high-pitched wailing noise went off as I passed. If there had been any question about whether there was an intruder at Crane¡¯s place, there wasn¡¯t now. I pushed the vehicle as fast as it would go. My mental fatigue was threatening to consume me, and I let go of Crane¡¯s men¡¯s minds. I was positive that I already had a slew of people pursuing me, what was eight more?

    I clung desperately to Crane¡¯s consciousness. My blood had already soaked through the towel and was working on the fabric of the seat. My head and stomach were woozy. I began to doubt whether I was going to live; I wasn¡¯t sure how much more blood I could afford to lose. Unfortunately, I was going to lose at least a little more before the night was over, and not from my gushing gunshot wound.

    My only chance of survival was to be rescued; the only way I was getting rescued, since Crane¡¯s men took my Communicator, was to activate the tracker implanted in my hip. I put the hover-vehicle on autopilot and reached for the knife I¡¯d taken off Crane¡¯s man. Hiking what was left of my short dress up, I felt for the small lump that marked the tracker. I found it easily but hesitated. I hated the sight of my own blood.

    My knife hand shook as I brought the tip close to my skin. I started panting. Scared that I was hyperventilating, I pulled the knife away from my hip and counted to ten. Closing my eyes, I focused on calming my breathing. Then, as if to psych myself out, I swiftly reached across my body and sliced the skin right over the tracker in one motion. It didn¡¯t hurt. Well, it didn¡¯t hurt me. I hoped that Ian Crane felt like the skin on his hip tore open when I cut myself.

    I threw the knife onto the passenger seat. I gritted my teeth and looked down at the cut I had made, my head beginning to swim. It was a good thing I hadn¡¯t actually tried to look at the bullet hole in my back. Pressing both of my thumbs to the bottom edge of the tracker, I worked it out of my hip. I sighed with relief as the slippery chip slid into my fingers.

    I looked through the windshield of the hover-vehicle, just as I sped over the city border. I entered my code into the tiny tracker and held my breath until it glowed green, letting me know that the signal had started. Glancing behind me, I was relieved to see that nobody was following me¡­yet. I risked driving the hover-vehicle all the way to the clearing where I¡¯d been dropped off two days before. Had it really only been two days? I needed to get out of the air; I was mighty conspicuous flying a stolen Coalition vehicle.

    Not so gently, I landed the vehicle on the edge of the clearing. I crawled out of the car, toward the woods. My hold on Crane¡¯s mind was slipping; I couldn¡¯t hold on much longer. The tracking signal was on, but I didn¡¯t know if anyone would get here in time. I found a shallow hole and collapsed into the soft leaves. My eyes were heavy, and I wanted more than anything to close them, but I knew that if I did, I might never open them again.

    When I couldn¡¯t stand it a second longer, I did the only thing that I could think of to stay awake¡ªI released Crane¡¯s mind. It would only buy me a couple of minutes of consciousness at best. I had lost¡ªwas still losing¡ªtoo much blood to hang on much longer. The pain washed over me, but I didn¡¯t even have the energy left to cry. The pain was so intense that it was only a matter of time before I passed out. I held onto the pain as long as I could; as long as I could feel pain, I knew I was still alive.

    I reached for my small bag and fumbled around inside until my fingers closed around the edges of Erik¡¯s letter. I unfurled the blood-smeared pages and began to read. The words swam in and out of focus, disbelief coloring my thoughts. Too late, I realized I wasn¡¯t ready to read the words on those pages.

 Chapter Thirty-Seven: The One with the Epilogue

    Donavon McDonough ran at full speed toward the woods. He held a tracking device in his left hand. Not much further now, he thought to himself. The green dot on his tracker grew stronger, the closer he came to its source. He opened his mind, praying that she¡¯d respond if he called to her. Talia! Talia! He mentally screamed. No response came. Fear propelled him rapidly toward his target. He was nearly on top of her before his eyes found her small form.

    Leaves obscured her body, and he nearly tripped over her. Relief washed over him.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got her!¡± he yelled into his headset.

    Donavon knelt in the leaves next to Talia¡¯s limp form. The foliage shrouding her was stained red with her blood. Her normally olive-toned face was pale and waxy-looking. Her lips were dry and cracked. Donavon probed her delicate neck, searching for a pulse. Finally, his fingers registered the weak beat of her heart. She¡¯s alive. He breathed a sigh of relief. He frantically peeled the leaves away and gathered her in his arms. As Donavon stood with her limp body in his arms, he noticed several pieces of paper scattered underneath where Talia¡¯s body had just been. Taking care not to drop her, he bent back down and grabbed the pages.

    ¡°I need someone to come cleanse the area,¡± Donavon spoke into his headset again.

    ¡°Affirmative,¡± the voice on the other end replied.

    Talia was small and weightless in his arms, childlike. Donavon ran out of the woods as quickly as he¡¯d come, trying in vain not to jostle her still body. Talia¡¯s chest wasn¡¯t perceptibly rising and falling, and he feared the worst. Panic coursed through Donavon when he felt a sticky wetness seeping through his jacket, her blood was already soaking through it. She couldn¡¯t die. Her life was worth too much, much more than his own. His father had never let him forget that.

    Donavon reached the clearing and carried her aboard the waiting plane full of medics. They rushed over and scanned for her vitals while she was still draped in his arms.

    ¡°She doesn¡¯t have much time,¡± the medic declared gravely. ¡°She¡¯s lost too much blood.¡±

    ¡°Then you¡¯d better make some time. She has to live,¡± he snapped back. The team of medics sprang to life around him, taking her small body from his arms. Not caring if he were in the way, Donavon knelt next to the gurney. He swore that he saw her eyelids flutter, and he grabbed her bloody fingers.

    ¡°Hang in there, Tal. Just hang in there,¡± he sent.

    ¡°Move back, sir,¡± one medic ordered, shoving Donavon aside. He stumbled backward as the team of doctors converged on Talia¡¯s near-lifeless body. Donavon sank into a seat in the corner of the plane, the pages that he¡¯d found still clenched in his fist. A word caught his attention: Natalia. Donavon smoothed the wrinkled sheets against his thigh, and began to read the contents.

    Natalia,

    A couple of nights ago, you asked about the circumstances leading to me attending the McDonough School when I was fourteen. I know that you were hurt I wouldn¡¯t share my story with you, but I¡¯ve never shared it with anybody. I¡¯ve never trusted someone enough with my secret. I¡¯ve never wanted to let anybody get that close to me.

    I¡¯m so sorry about what happened last night. I¡¯m sorry that I let things go so far with you, when I¡¯ve known all along that you¡¯re still upset over Donavon. But you¡¯re right; I do know how you feel about me. I¡¯ve known for a long time how you feel, maybe even before you knew it yourself. I feel the same way. You¡¯ve captivated me since the first time we met, during your placement exams. I thought that it was just a crush, an odd fascination with a girl who managed to surprise me. But the more time I spent with you, the more I began to realize that what I¡¯m feeling is so much more than a crush.

    I¡¯d known about Donavon and the girl¡ªher name is Kandice¡ªfor a while. I really wanted to tell you, but Henri persuaded me not to. He thought my feelings for you were clouding my judgment, and he was afraid that if I were the one to tell you, you might not have believed me. He sensed you were starting to realize that I am falling for you. I stand by my decision. I wish that you hadn¡¯t found out the way you did, but I¡¯m glad that you found out on your own. Honestly, I¡¯m not sure you would have believed it otherwise.

    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

    I can¡¯t put into words how much it pained me to see you hurting so much, but slowly you bounced back, just like I knew you would. You¡¯re a fighter. When you finally started to understand that what you¡¯re feeling for me is real, I was elated. I tried to hold back, tried to give you more time to grieve, but I was selfish. I want you, so I started something even though I knew that you weren¡¯t really ready. I was jealous again when I realized that you still think about him when we¡¯re together. I want all of you for myself, and when you thought about him last night, my temper got the best of me. I said things that I can¡¯t take back, but hope you forgive me. If time is what you need, that¡¯s what I¡¯ll give you.

    You wanted to give me something that you¡¯ve never shared with anyone, and I want you to know that I don¡¯t take that lightly. I also want to share something with you that I¡¯ve never shared with anyone. Just know that once you¡¯ve read what I have to say, you might not like it¡ªor me. That¡¯s a risk I¡¯m willing to take; I honestly think that you, of all people, deserve to know. So here it goes:

    My parents were firm supporters of the movement to repeal the Mandatory Talent Testing Act. Both my brothers and I were born at home instead of in a hospital because both of my parents are Talents. They were confident that at least one of us would be born talented, and they didn¡¯t want our births on record. I¡¯m the oldest. When I was three, my parents noticed that I was able to replicate both of their abilities. It unnerved them because Mimics are so rare. They knew that The Agency would come for me if they ever found out. Both of my younger brothers also exhibited talent at a young age, although neither is very strong. My middle brother is a Mono-morph, and my youngest brother is a low-level Brain.

    We moved around a lot, staying off of TOXIC¡¯s radar. We lived mostly in rural areas and kept to ourselves. I grew up fearing The Agency and what they stood for, but as I got older, I began to think that maybe my parents were paranoid. I met a girl on one of my grocery runs when we were living in North Carolina. We became close, and I got cocky. I told her all about my abilities, trying to impress her. She, in turn, told her parents. Days later, Agency operatives raided our home. Ordinarily, the penalty for refusing to submit children for testing is jail time and a heavy fine. But my parents were proud and fought. My mother was killed in the raid. My father and brothers probably would¡¯ve been, too, but I knew that TOXIC hadn¡¯t come for them; they¡¯d come for me. The man in charge of the mission told me that I was in no position to bargain, but I could tell he was lying. I surrendered myself in exchange for the lives of my father and my brothers.

    Mimics are so rare, and I could tell how badly he wanted me, so I called his bluff. I threatened to take my own life if he didn¡¯t agree to the terms of my deal. In the end, he agreed. I offered to go willingly to the School and take my ¡°rightful¡± place within The Agency. In return, my brothers would be free to attend regular school and live normal lives, and my father wouldn¡¯t be penalized. My father and brothers now live in Raleigh, N.C. and are closely monitored by Agency personnel. Under the terms of my agreement, I¡¯m not allowed to speak about what happened, visit my family, or step out of line. They¡¯ll all be executed if I violate any of these conditions.

    I¡¯ve been closely watched since my first day at School, and truthfully, I¡¯m shocked that The Agency allowed me to become a Hunter. However, my willing sacrifice¡ªand the constant vigilance of those in charge¡ªhas proven me to be a loyal operative. I don¡¯t agree with the Mandatory Talent Testing Act or its subsequent laws, and I don¡¯t really care about The Coalition and their rebellion, but I do care about my family¡¯s well-being. If that means I have to fall in line and play my part, I will¡ªand I do.

    I told you that I¡¯d tell you all of this when you were ready to hear it. I don¡¯t really know if you are ready now, but I wanted to share something with you. I also want you to understand that The Agency isn¡¯t all that you believe it to be. There are many within it who are corrupt, and the system in general is incredibly flawed.

    You had a choice about whether to join this organization. I know that you see it as a chance to right the wrongs in your past, but just remember that the rest of us weren¡¯t given the same option. The Agency is responsible for the wrongs in my past. I feel the deeply buried doubt that you keep bottled up inside of you. I¡¯m not saying that you should leave The Agency or anything like that, I just want you to keep your eyes open, and hang on to that doubt. It¡¯s unlikely that Donavon is the only one who¡¯s lied to you.

    I gave this to Henri because I trust him for reasons he¡¯ll have to explain to you some day. I gave it to you now because I wanted you to have a chance to read it away from the ever-watchful electronic presence of TOXIC¡¯s prying eyes. I know you¡¯re too curious not to read this before you return, so we can talk about it when you get back if you want to. If you don¡¯t, that¡¯s fine, too. I hope that you¡¯ll understand how much trust it took for me to write this, and, even if you believe nothing I say, I hope that you won¡¯t share its contents with anybody.

    E.

    Donavon carefully folded the pages and shoved the note in his jacket pocket. Decisions, decisions, he thought, processing the ramifications of giving the defamatory document to his father. There wasn¡¯t really a choice in the matter. His family came first; Donavon knew what he needed to do.

 Chapter Thirty-Eight: The One that starts Volume 2

    Nine Months Later

    The knock at the door came again. Just like the last three times he¡¯d tried to get my attention, I ignored his appeal. Instead, I continued to stare at the metal lock barring him from entering.

    ¡°Natalia, open the door,¡± his deep voice demanded. Concentrating harder, I watched as the latch switched from the locked to the unlocked position. The sound of the lock engaging and disengaging was barely audible to me, but I knew that he heard the click loud and clear. Confirming my thoughts, he quickly tried to turn the knob again just as I re-engaged the lock.

    ¡°Natalia,¡± he warned. His exasperation made me smile. ¡°I will break this door if I have to,¡± he said, his voice low and threatening. The harsh tone left little doubt that he would do just that if I didn¡¯t quit playing games. With a heavy sigh, I finally relented, disengaging the lock and leaving it that way. He turned the knob so hard the metal screeched in protest¡ªI thought that it might break off in his hand¡ªand then Danbury ¡°Mac¡± McDonough burst into the room.

    I sat on my king-sized bed, propped against the fluffy pillows, my arms crossed over my chest, my legs crossed at my ankles and a smirk on my face. Mac, the Director of the Talented Organization for Extremely Interesting Citizens (aka TOXIC), stared at me disapprovingly. ¡°Are the games really necessary?¡± he demanded, clearly annoyed.

    ¡°Am I not allowed any privacy?¡± I retorted, not bothering to hide the irritation in my own voice.

    ¡°No, you are allowed all the ¡®privacy¡¯ you like, but you are not allowed locked doors,¡± he said with mock patience.

    ¡°Locked doors, privacy, what¡¯s the difference?¡±

    ¡°The difference, Natalia, is that if you have a seizure and the door is locked, those seconds that we lose could prove lethal.¡± His voice was hard, but the tenderness in his eyes touched me. The steely reserve that I¡¯d been holding on to faltered a little, but I quickly recovered.

    Pasting on a small smile, I said, ¡°I¡¯m fine, see?¡± I spread my arms wide to prove my point. He studied me carefully through narrowed gray eyes, inspecting every detail of my appearance for signs of damage. I felt like a child under Mac¡¯s hard gaze, but refused to avert my eyes. In addition to my seizures, Mac feared me so depressed that I might injure myself. His unsubstantiated anxiety had landed me in weekly therapy sessions with the Head of Psychoanalysis for the Agency. ¡°You wanted to talk to me?¡± I prompted when I couldn¡¯t take his scrutiny any longer.

    ¡°How are you feeling?¡± he finally asked.

    How was I feeling? Where to begin? Expressions like ¡®lab rat,¡¯ ¡®caged animal,¡¯ and ¡®prisoner¡¯ came to mind, but Mac wouldn¡¯t appreciate those responses.

    ¡°Fine,¡± I replied shortly.

    ¡°Fine?¡± he repeated lightly, raising one bushy eyebrow in challenge.

    ¡°Fine. Just like I felt fine yesterday. Just like the day before that. And exactly how I felt the day before that.¡± My voice rose an octave as I punctuated each word.

    Mac continued to look me up and down as if the only way that he would believe my words was if he couldn¡¯t detect otherwise. Returning his stare, I tried to match the cold glint of his gaze with my own. He was careful to avoid direct eye contact, afraid that I might read his thoughts. As if I needed such contact to access his mind. We both knew better, but we also both knew how much he hated the intrusion, which was why I normally refrained.

    ¡°I have been thinking, maybe you would like to help out with some of the classes at the school?¡± He said it like it was a question, but I knew that he wasn¡¯t really giving me an option. Mac wasn¡¯t in the habit of offering choices; he was more accustomed to barking orders, and few people had the nerve to disobey. I used to be one of his sheep. His approval and praise had meant the world to me, but over the last nine months, I¡¯d distanced myself from the flock. Despite that, option or not, I was eager to do something¡ªanything¡ªbesides sit in this room.

    ¡°Really?¡± I replied, almost ashamed by how excited the prospect of leaving my bedroom made me. I tried not to let the excitement show, but I could barely contain myself. I had been locked up in this room, in this house, on the same grounds as the McDonough School, for months. The only time that Mac permitted me to leave was to make the short trek to the School¡¯s Medical Facility for my daily blood draw and injections with Dr. Thistler. Even my therapists, Drs. Wythe and Martin, came to Mac¡¯s house for our sessions.

    Well, maybe locked up was a slight exaggeration¡ªthe door was only actually locked when I locked it from the inside. And the room wasn¡¯t exactly small; it was bigger than most accommodations for teenagers, even bigger than some families¡¯ entire homes, and lavishly decorated.

    My large bed was covered in a burgundy down comforter with silver embroidered swirls and occupied a space in the middle of my bedroom. One wall of the bedroom was glass and covered with draperies the same burgundy and silver pattern as the comforter. A mahogany dresser stood about waist high, extending almost the entire length of the wall opposite the bed, and a wall screen for watching movies stretched above it. A third wall contained a roll-top desk made of the same mahogany as the dresser.

    Huge black-and-white paintings of icy lakes and snow covered mountains, painted by a well-known artist, hung on the three true walls. Next to the desk were giant French doors, made of the same mahogany with an intricately carved design. Behind the wooden doors sat a walk-in closet that stretched nearly half the width of the room itself. Most of the clothes in the closet hadn¡¯t been touched in years¡ªtwo years to be exact.

    The shelf that ran around the top of the closet held many shoe boxes filled with pictures of me as a teenager. My curly, chestnut hair highlighted my purple eyes and framed my small face. My smooth olive complexion was marred only by a smattering of freckles across the bridge of my slightly upturned nose. Beside me in most of the pictures was a slightly older boy, a comparative giant, with shaggy blond hair and clear blue eyes, his skin as light as mine was dark.

    The pictures used to decorate the walls and the bedside tables; when I¡¯d moved back into this room, I¡¯d packed them all away, not wanting to see them every day.

    ¡°I thought that it would be good for you to get out and rejoin the living,¡± Mac said dryly, interrupting my thoughts and bringing me back to the present.

    ¡°Funny, considering you¡¯re the reason that I¡¯ve been denied access to the ¡®living,¡¯¡± I snorted. The fact that our house was so close to throngs of students and teachers I was barely allowed to interact with seemed almost cruel.

    ¡°Yes, well, your health has been much better in recent weeks, and Dr. Wythe seems satisfied that your mental state is stable.¡± Great, I thought, the man who overanalyzes everything has decided that I¡¯m not crazy¡ªthat¡¯s reassuring.

    ¡°I could go back to Elite Headquarters,¡± I replied, hopefully. I knew that Mac approving my return to the Hunters was about as likely as me rehanging those photos, but I had to try.

    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

    ¡°You have not been cleared by Medical,¡± he stated, the annoyance from earlier returning. Lately, we¡¯d been having this conversation a lot.

    ¡°Medical doesn¡¯t seem to be any closer to clearing me than Medical was nine months ago,¡± I snapped angrily. TOXIC had access to the absolute latest and best medical research, yet somehow, the exact cause of my seizures still baffled them.

    Nine months ago I was a Hunter Pledge, living at Elite Headquarters, located in beautiful Brentwood Springs, West Virginia. The Hunters are a Division within a government agency called TOXIC, simply referred to as the ¡°Agency¡±. The Hunters devote most of their time to collecting information about the Coalition, the largest threat to national security. My solo mission, the culmination of the Hunters¡¯ Pledge program, had brought me in contact with Ian Crane, the President of the Coalition and my parents¡¯ murderer. Even though my official assignment hadn¡¯t been to kill Crane, I had hoped to do just that if the opportunity presented itself. When I finally did come face-to-face with him, things didn¡¯t go exactly as planned; I¡¯d been injected with an unidentified chemical and shot while trying to flee. The drug lingered in my bloodstream now, causing me agonizing¡ªand, at times, embarrassing¡ªseizures.

    The Coalition doesn¡¯t believe that being Talented is a good thing. They believe that people like me, those with gifts, are unnatural. Their sole mission is to bring down the Agency and put an end to the training of special children. If Crane gets his way, Talents will be ostracized, forced to return to the days when we had to hide our abilities or face ridicule.

    ¡°Natalia, we have been over this, we are doing everything we can. I just need for you to be patient. It is best for everybody if you stay here until Medical can isolate the compound in your blood,¡± he said with exaggerated patience. ¡°Besides, even if Medical clears you, there is no guarantee that the Placement Committee will make you a Hunter.¡±

    Mac¡¯s not-so-subtle reminder that in addition to nearly bleeding to death, I¡¯d pretty much botched my solo hunt, stung. The solo hunt was a necessary mission that each Hunter Pledge needed to complete to actually become a Hunter. Mine had been less than stellar. I knew that there was a very real chance that my performance would prevent the Placement Committee from actually assigning me to the Hunters. Despite that, I was counting on my team captain, Henri, going to bat for me when the time came. Henri would, hopefully assure the Committee that I¡¯d done very well, on all of my group missions and that I was ready to be a full-fledged Hunter.

    Still, my proverbial ace in the hole was Mac. As Director of the Agency, he was an important member of the Placement Committee¡ªas far as most were concerned, his word was gospel. If he voted to place me with the Hunters, the others would likely fall in line. At one time, the mutual confidence that Mac and I shared would¡¯ve left me with no doubt that he would sway the vote in my favor, but the current state of my mental and physical health made it uncertain.

    ¡°Fine,¡± I snapped when it became clear that he wasn¡¯t going to give me any good news.

    ¡°Fine, you will help out with the classes at School?¡± he clarified.

    ¡°Fine, I will help out with the classes at School,¡± I answered grudgingly. Not that helping students at the McDonough School for the Talented was high on my to-do list, but it sure beat twiddling my thumbs in my bedroom.

    ¡°Glad we settled that,¡± he said, sounding relieved. ¡°Oh, and Natalia? Keep your senses open,¡± Mac added, seemingly as an afterthought. I could tell that this was his real reason for sending me to the School, and now I was intrigued. Maybe this was more like an assignment than a way to get me to stop brooding. At least, I hoped that was the case.

    ¡°Why?¡± I asked suspiciously.

    ¡°I am not sure yet, but I think that we might have a leak in the Agency . . . a spy.¡±

    ¡°A spy?¡± I asked stupidly, my mouth gaping. How could there be a spy in the Agency? Didn¡¯t we take extreme measures to prevent things like that?

    ¡°After studying your official report from Nevada, I can only conclude that we have a spy. Your identity was compromised. Crane knew who you were, and based on the events in his home, I believe that he was tipped off by an Operative on the inside here. I have been quietly investigating this theory, but have not made any progress. I think that it¡¯s time that we took more aggressive measures,¡± he paused, waiting for my reaction. I kept my face impassive while I mulled over his words. I had entertained the notion that my identity was leaked to Crane, but I hadn¡¯t really considered that it might be from someone within the Agency. Now that I thought about it, Mac was probably right. Crane had clearly known who I was, and it¡¯s not like I carry identification on me. He¡¯d also been prepared for my arrival. I guess we really did have a spy.

    ¡°Are you thinking that one of the teachers or administrators is selling the information?¡± I asked carefully, gauging his predictably guarded reaction to my question. If Mac had planned to fill me in on all the details, he wouldn¡¯t have broached the subject the way that he did. Ordinarily, he was so direct. The fact that he was beating around the bush could only mean that he was intentionally hiding important details from me. When his expression remained unchanged, I once again considered reading his thoughts. After all, the spy¡ªthe traitor¡ªwho had compromised my identity had nearly cost me my life. Mac¡¯s refusal to divulge details infuriated me.

    ¡°Could be,¡± he shrugged noncommittally. ¡°Honestly, I¡¯m not sure. Like I said, I¡¯ve been quietly investigating this using only a handful of trusted Operatives; those I am positive are not involved. Your specific Talents could be useful since I have all but exhausted my other options.¡±

    Great, I¡¯m a last resort. This time, I did read his mind.

    His mental barricades were firmly in place, but since I was the one who¡¯d taught him to build the barriers, they were easy for me to knock down. Mac was telling the truth; he really didn¡¯t have any idea who the spy was. His inability to make any progress in his search frustrated and scared him. He was afraid that if the traitor wasn¡¯t found soon, we would lose more Operatives. But he was most terrified by the certainty that if the interloper got another chance he would make sure to kill me.

    ¡°And you consider me a trusted Operative,¡± I teased, trying to lighten the mood. ¡°I feel so special.¡±

    ¡°No need for sarcasm, Natalia. But yes, I am confident that you are not the leak,¡± he answered.

    ¡°Why do you want me investigating at the School?¡± I asked, a little confused.

    ¡°Here and Elite Headquarters contain the Agency¡¯s only Crypto Banks, as you know. There are two possible scenarios for how Crane got his information. The leak theory would mean that an individual obtained access to your assignment information and sold that information to the Coalition. The other theory is that we have a Coalition spy working in our ranks. Even in that scenario, the individual would still have needed your mission specifics, and the only way to do that would be by hacking the records in the Crypto Bank or bribing a Crypto to do so. If there was a bribe that would mean we have several traitors in our midst.¡±

    ¡°Why me? Why my records?¡± I asked with alarm. If Mac was right, wouldn¡¯t it have been more advantageous to leak large batches of information? Or Hunting missions where whole teams could be captured or killed instead of just one Operative? And I hadn¡¯t even been an Operative when I went on my solo mission; I¡¯d just been a Pledge.

    ¡°Most likely because you were going after Crane directly,¡± he answered.

    He had been making eye-contact with me up until this point, but averted his eyes when he spoke now. He was either lying or at least only telling me part of his theory. I didn¡¯t press the issue this time. If Mac wanted to give me an assignment, I was happy to take it.

    ¡°I see. I suppose this is an unofficial mission?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Yes that would be best. I don¡¯t want to cause panic within the Agency or tip off the potential spy by launching a full out, open investigation,¡± he confirmed, meeting my gaze again.

    ¡°When do I start?¡± I asked, with a confidence I didn¡¯t feel.

    ¡°Tomorrow. You will be posing as an Assistant Instructor, which includes living in Instructor Housing. I¡¯ve taken the liberty of matching you with several individuals who raised red flags in our preliminary search. By tomorrow afternoon, I¡¯ll have each of their files sent to your communicator.¡±

    He seemed relieved I¡¯d agreed. As if I¡¯d had an option. Even if Mac had actually presented this situation to me as though I had a choice, there wasn¡¯t one. Ian Crane had killed my parents. Ian Crane had nearly killed me. And whoever leaked my identity and mission specifics to Crane was just as responsible as he was for my current condition.

    ¡°I¡¯ll pack a bag,¡± I said glibly. Mac gave me a hard look.

    ¡°I¡¯ll take you over first thing in the morning.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure I can find the campus, Mac. I don¡¯t need a babysitter.¡± Mac¡¯s house, my house, was on School grounds; it wasn¡¯t like I had far to go.

    ¡°I¡¯ll take you over first thing in the morning,¡± he repeated. With that, he turned on his heel and left my room.

    ¡°Couldn¡¯t even bother to close the door,¡± I mumbled.

    ¡°If you want it closed, do it yourself,¡± Mac called from somewhere in my sitting room. I stared at the door until I heard a loud, satisfying THWACK. Gratified, I smiled to myself. My pleasure was short lived. A crack, followed by a thud, filled the room. The door had splintered in two when I¡¯d willed it shut. Crap¡ªno more locking the door for me. Good thing this was my last night here. Unfortunately, this was also my last night in my big comfy bed. Oh, well¡ªmy bed was a sacrifice I was willing to make.

 Chapter Thirty-Nine: The One Where She Goes Undercover

    The steady beeping of the alarm clock grew louder with each chirp. I groaned. The only good part about being medically inactive was not having to wake up with the birds. Reaching blindly towards my bedside table, I slapped at the offensive machine. After several failed attempts, I finally connected with the off button. I remained lying face down in my bed for several more minutes, my breathing again taking on the steady rhythm of sleep. The beeping began anew.

    Ugh, I must¡¯ve hit the snooze button. Groaning again, I sat up, and rubbed the sleep from my eyes as I swung my legs over the side of the bed. When my feet made contact with the cold wooden floor, I swore loudly, wondering where my slippers were. I padded over to the window and threw open the curtains. It was still dark out . . . . Awesome. Suddenly, I wasn¡¯t so sure that I wanted an assignment; sleep sounded like a much better option.

    Despite my increasing desire to climb back under the covers, I grabbed my robe and made my way to the bathroom attached to my sitting room. I turned on the hot water, waiting for the steam to fill the white-tiled space before stepping into the walk-in shower. I savored this moment, my last shower without shoes for a while. When I was a student, I¡¯d frequently come up here to bathe, but it was too far to make the trip on a daily basis. The showers at School were definitely NOT my fondest memory from my student days, and I somehow doubted that the teachers¡¯ were any better than the students¡¯.

    I had enrolled in the McDonough School for the Talented, located on a secure facility in western Maryland, following the deaths¡¯ of my parents when I was ten. I¡¯d always known that I possessed the power to hear other people¡¯s thoughts and was capable of controlling their minds, but I hadn¡¯t known that my ability was called a Talent. I soon learned that Talents came in all shapes and sizes. There were Morphers, people who transformed into various animals; Light Manipulators, those who could turn invisible; Higher Reasoning or ¡°Brains¡±, who were like human computers, capable of analyzing information in the blink of an eye; Electrical Manipulators, people who harnessed and controlled electricity; Visionaries, who saw glimpses of the future; and Viewers, who could observe a situation where they weren¡¯t physically present; and the list went on.

    Our gifts were a result of the Great Contamination, a breakdown of the nuclear reactors all over the world. The United States created the McDonough School to train Talented children in properly using and controlling their gifts. At sixteen, we took placement exams that ranked our abilities and determined the Division of TOXIC that we would be positioned in after graduation. I¡¯d been selected for the Hunters, the only division that I¡¯d ever wanted to be a part of.

    Hunters went on Missions to track down people and information that were a threat to either TOXIC or the country as a whole. Most recently, the Hunters have focused on finding and destroying a group called the Coalition, who oppose the Talent Testing Act. They don¡¯t believe that being Talented is a good thing; that Talents are abnormal, and that what we are able do is unnatural. In a way, it is, but the skills that Talents possess help to protect the Nation. We have capabilities that far exceed those of average people, allowing us to both prevent crime domestically and preclude invasion by foreign countries.

    The Coalition is so opposed to the testing laws that it staged an uprising, causing seven states to secede from the rest of the U.S. Currently, one of the Agency¡¯s main initiatives is to defeat the Coalition before civil war breaks out, hopefully reuniting the country.

    ¡°Are you trying to drown yourself?¡± a woman¡¯s motherly voice called as she knocked on the bathroom door.

    Sighing, I turned off the water, but didn¡¯t respond. I opened the glass door of the shower, the steam so thick that I could barely find my towel and robe. I dried myself off as best I could, considering the amount of moisture in the air, then wrapped my heavy terrycloth robe around myself, cinching the tie around my middle. Bending over, I wrapped the towel around my long wet hair. The robe was so long that I had to hold it up so I wouldn¡¯t trip as I made my way back into the bedroom.

    When I opened the bathroom door, steam billowed out into the sitting room, forming warm clouds. The woman who had knocked on the door was sitting at the small breakfast table in the corner with a plate of scrambled eggs, thick white toast, and a huge carafe of coffee. I sniffed the air and drank in the rich fragrance of imported dark roast.

    ¡°Morning, Talia,¡± Gretchen greeted me warmly. Her clear blue eyes were warm and inviting, a sharp contrast to the cold gray ones of her husband. Despite the early hour, her blonde hair was perfectly coiffed, and she was already dressed in black slacks and a royal blue blouse. ¡°I thought that you could use a good breakfast before your first day of school.¡±

    ¡°Thanks, Gretchen,¡± I replied, giving her a genuine smile in return. Gretchen had been like a mother to me since the death of my own just as Mac had been like a father to me, and I¡¯d come to love them both deeply. My feelings for Mac had become muddled in the nine months since returning from Nevada even though he had gone to great lengths to aid me in my physical recovery. I was extremely grateful for his support but I¡¯d also come to realize that there was a lot Mac had been keeping from me. I knew that, as Director, he was privy to highly classified information that wasn¡¯t any of my business, but all the secrets were lessening the steadfast trust that I¡¯d always had in him.

    After moving to the U.S. to attend the McDonough School, I¡¯d learned that Mac and Gretchen opening their home to me was a highly unusual practice. Since Mac had been a close friend of my father¡¯s, he argued that he owed it to him to watch out for me. Mac had recognized me for what I was, a Mind Manipulator, from the first time we met because Gretchen was one of the only other recorded Talents with the same ability.

    Gretchen had ranked as a Mid-level Talent during her Placement Exams, and been assigned to the Psychic Interrogation Division. But she had no stomach for the unpleasantness associated with questioning suspects and dreaded performing the interrogations so much that it made her physically ill. She¡¯d requested permission to leave when she was pregnant with their son. Mac wasn¡¯t Director then, but he was still well-connected, so her request had been granted. Now, the only role that she played in the Agency was wife to the Director.

    When my parents were killed, Mac had offered me the opportunity to learn to use my Talents, something that my parents had discouraged. I¡¯d readily agreed, and Gretchen had taught me all about controlling the powers. She taught me to open up my mind so that I could hear everyone around me; she taught me to close my mind to keep out others seeking entrance to my thoughts; she taught me how to create a true connection with another person and about the potential harm in doing so. In no time, I¡¯d surpassed her abilities; I was a much stronger Talent than Gretchen. It wasn¡¯t long before I could actively enter someone¡¯s mind without making eye contact or touching them. I could control a room full of minds at the same time, bending all of them to my will. Thankfully, Gretchen also taught me about what happens when you abuse your power. She explained to me that Mind Manipulators are so rare because most have driven themselves mad controlling others.

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    ¡°I bet you¡¯re excited. I know how hard these last several months have been on you,¡± she said gently, cutting in on my memories.

    I made a noncommittal noise as I began shoveling food into my mouth.

    The eggs were covered in a salty cheese and contained mushrooms and onions, my absolute favorite. The thick white bread was warm, covered in butter and strawberry jam; Gretchen had made both the jam and the bread herself. I sighed happily as I chewed. Gretchen¡¯s cooking had been the only other perk of my confinement.

    ¡°How are you feeling today?¡± Gretchen continued, eyeing me over a steaming mug of coffee.

    Swallowing the too-big bite of my breakfast, I cleared my throat before answering. ¡°Pretty good, but I¡¯ll be better once I¡¯m around other people.¡± Gretchen blanched, setting her cup on the table. ¡°Oh, Gretchen that¡¯s not what I meant! You¡¯ve been great, it¡¯s just been a little claustrophobic being stuck inside my bedroom all day,¡± I tried to backtrack. I hadn¡¯t meant to hurt her feelings. She¡¯d gone out of her way to make me comfortable, and without her companionship, I might¡¯ve gone crazy.

    ¡°I understand, dear,¡± she replied, offering me a small smile. ¡°Dr. Wythe called late last night. He¡¯s very pleased with your progress.¡± I groaned. I sort of despised my therapist.

    In addition to my physical rehabilitation, Mac had insisted that I see a therapist. Dr. Wythe was the same shrink that Mac had sent me to after I¡¯d witnessed my parents¡¯ murders, and I loathed discussing my feelings with him; it reminded me of the months that he¡¯d spent grilling me on what I¡¯d seen when the Coalition raided the hotel room where we¡¯d been staying and killed my only family. This time around, he focused incessantly on the conversation that I¡¯d had with Ian Crane following my capture. The therapy was boring and pointless since he typically disregarded what I said and suggested a version of events that correlated with what the Agency wanted me to believe. It hadn¡¯t taken me long to figure out that if I just told him what he wanted to hear, the sessions would end. After I¡¯d agreed that everything said by Crane was a lie, Dr. Wythe declared me healed. He still stopped by Mac¡¯s house when he was on campus, but I was no longer required to endure his daily torture.

    Though I¡¯d convinced Dr. Wythe that I didn¡¯t believe Crane¡¯s words, I hadn¡¯t convinced myself. I didn¡¯t include every detail of our conversation in my official report, leaving out the part where Crane insisted that he¡¯d known my father. I wanted to work through that on my own, wanted to decide if it was a lie without the influence of the good doctor. I wasn¡¯t sure what Talents Dr. Wythe possessed, but they seemed like a weaker version of mine. He couldn¡¯t read minds like I could, but he had an influence over people, much like my compulsion. His suggestive nature had nearly worked on me in my weakened condition, but my desire to cling to the truth won out.

    ¡°Has Danbury told you which Instructors you¡¯ll be paired with?¡± Gretchen continued, a cloud of displeasure darkening her normally bright eyes.

    ¡°Um, not yet. He said that he¡¯d have the list sent to my communicator,¡± I said absently, returning to my eggs now that the topic of Dr. Wythe was closed.

    Gretchen grew quiet, scrutinizing my table manners. The slight grimace contorting her beautiful features was the only outward indication that she disapproved.

    ¡°Danbury is out for a run right now, but he wanted me to be sure that you are ready to go at 6:30,¡± she said, her features reverting back to an easy smile. ¡°I packed a bag of things for you to take to the dorms, but call if I forgot anything and I will send it over.¡±

    The only response that I could manage was a small nod since my mouth was full of eggs and toast. Gretchen scowled again at my lack of social graces. I swallowed. ¡°This might be the last good meal that I get for a while. You know that the School food is barely edible.¡±

    When I was a student, I¡¯d tried to eat in the cafeteria as infrequently as possible, instead sneaking up to have dinner at Gretchen¡¯s table. It was just another reason that the other students disliked me.

    Gretchen made some small throaty noise that sounded a little like a snort. ¡°The Instructor¡¯s cafeteria fare is much better than the students¡¯,¡± she promised.

    I spared her a skeptical glance. I¡¯d believe it when I tasted the truth of her words for myself. I quickly scarfed down the rest of my breakfast, gulping my first cup of coffee before pouring a second cup, and sat at my vanity to get ready.

    I dried my hair with a blow dryer, then used a big round brush to straighten out all the chestnut strands. When I was satisfied that it was thoroughly dry, I used a flatiron to ensure that no hint of wave remained. Before the last nine months, I¡¯d always worn my hair curly, but lately, I¡¯d been straightening my locks for lack of something better to do. I¡¯d decided that I liked the straight look¡ªsometimes, change was a good thing.

    Next, I pulled my hair into a ponytail at the back of my head. I stared at my reflection in the mirror for several minutes before deciding in favor of makeup. My skin was smooth but uncharacteristically pale for me thanks to spending the majority of my time indoors. The dark circles under my eyes were a bluish purple, like I¡¯d been on the losing end of a fistfight.

    Rising from the vanity, I retreated to my bedroom, where Gretchen had made my bed while I was in the shower. On the end of the burgundy comforter, in two neatly folded piles, sat several pairs of black stretch pants, soft white cotton t-shirts, and a thin gray sweatshirt. Anticipating my lack of appropriate clothing, Gretchen must¡¯ve ordered me new outfits. Man, I didn¡¯t even have to ask; she always delivered.

    My first class of the day was a basic skills combat class, so I grabbed a pair of cotton underwear and pulled them on, followed by the comfy-looking stretch pants. As I put on a matching bra, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror over my dresser. My back was to the mirror, and over my shoulder, I could see angry red scars, peeking out just above my stretchy pants. Unconsciously, I reached behind me and felt the raised flesh of the scar. My fingers felt the hole where the bullet had pierced my skin, and the places where the Medics stitched me up. I flinched as I touched the flesh even though no sensation came; the Agency doctors said that I may never regain feeling there.

    They had offered to remove the scar as was customary, but I was still a little fuzzy on how I¡¯d actually received it. I didn¡¯t want to erase the only evidence that it had happened at all. A perverse part of me also liked the reminder that I now owed Crane for more than just my parents¡¯ murders.

    My recovery had been a long and painful process, including learning how to walk again. I now received a shot every day to stabilize the chemicals that Crane¡¯s men had injected, reducing the number of seizures that had plagued me since returning from Nevada. Initially, the doctors were unable to develop an effective antidote, and the episodes were so frequent that I spent most of my time in a drug-induced coma. Eventually, the team of researchers created an equalizer that allowed me to function, but it left me tired and weak.

    My primary Medical doctor, Dr. Thistler, had treated me after my parents¡¯ deaths as well, but my memories of her weren¡¯t as clear as those of Dr. Wythe. Mac told me that she¡¯d been one of the physicians to monitor my condition during my previous stay at TOXIC¡¯s Medical facility, but I¡¯d been too traumatized to be aware of my surroundings. She was nice enough, but her involvement in my life served as a daily reminder that I was sick and currently unable to avenge my parents. I longed for a day when she would enter the examination room and proudly declare that she¡¯d found a cure. Unfortunately, the more time that passed, the less confident I became that the time would ever come.

    ¡°Natalia, are you dressed?¡± Mac called from the sitting room, snapping me back to reality.

    Grabbing for my shirt, I hastily pulled it over my head. I reached for the insanely bright white shoes and yanked them on as fast as possible. Then I noticed the bag that Gretchen packed for me with the meager personal items that I was allowed to take to the School and stuffed the rest of my clothes inside. I slung the small duffel over my shoulder and walked out to the sitting room to meet Mac. I didn¡¯t look back on the room that had been like a prison for the last nine months.

 Chapter Forty: The One with the Tree Branch

    Mac and Gretchen¡¯s home was located west of the School¡¯s main campus. Mac drove me the short distance in a road vehicle that he kept on hand for getting around the compound.

    ¡°You really don¡¯t need to hold my hand and walk me to class,¡± I snapped once we were seated in the car. Though Mac had been like my surrogate father, our relationship had first become strained while I was in my Pledge year. The past nine months had done little to repair the rift; I was bitter about my current situation, and though I knew it was irrational, I blamed him.

    ¡°I just want to ensure that you make it there okay,¡± he replied mildly, his eyes fixed on the road. I gave him an odd look; did he forget that I had attended this school for six years? I¡¯d already taken all these classes, and I was fairly confident that I could find them in my sleep. Opening my mind, I risked gently probing Mac¡¯s.

    ¡°Natalia,¡± he warned. Mac was one of the few people who could detect when I tried to read him, and he effectively blocked most of my attempts. Mac¡¯s uncanny ability to block me was my own doing¡ªI¡¯d conditioned him against mental intrusion.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± I smiled sheepishly, only sorry that I¡¯d been caught.

    The stone fa?ade of the administration building came into view several minutes later. Mac pulled the car to a stop in the rounded, gravel drive, and he reached for the bags at my feet.

    ¡°I¡¯ll have these sent up to your new room,¡± he offered.

    Now that I was safely on campus, I figured that Mac would bid me farewell, and retreat inside to his office. Instead, he started walking away from the administration building. I quickly followed him.

    As we neared the outdoor practice area, Mac sped up. My short legs could barely match pace with his stride. I was so focused on keeping up that I didn¡¯t notice when he stopped; I ran smack into his broad back, my head bouncing painfully off the bottom edge of a shoulder bone. Smooth, Talia, I thought to myself. But Mac barely noticed. I stood behind him, my view obstructed by his massive frame, rubbing my forehead and waiting for him to introduce me.

    ¡°Director McDonough,¡± a deep voice greeted him respectfully. I froze. The morning was relatively warm, and the thin sweatshirt that I was wearing had caused sweat to dot my forehead and upper lip, but that voice raised gooseflesh on my arms and made the fine hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

    My heart raced, images flashed through my mind: fingers light as feathers on my arms, running up my sides, blue eyes so full of longing and desire, soft lips against mine, wind whipping wet hair in my face, glass shards spraying my cheeks, the taste of blood in my mouth, a big hand gripping both my small, blood covered, ones. Stay with me, Tal, stay with me, his voice pleaded in my head.

    I wasn¡¯t entirely sure where that last image had come from, but the other memories were traumatic enough that I didn¡¯t dwell, on it. I was torn between two overwhelming desires¡ªone was to run all the way back to Mac and Gretchen¡¯s house, bury my face in my pillows, and cry myself to sleep; the second was to attack and viciously assault the boy standing not ten feet from me.

    ¡°Donavon,¡± Mac replied, ¡°I have your new assistant,¡± he paused briefly, ¡°You, of course, know Natalia Lyons.¡± Mac stepped aside, exposing me to Donavon and his students. Paralyzed, I stood in place as the images swam over and over through my mind. My breathing was labored, my heart beating so fast that I thought for sure everyone could see it through my chest. Mac placed his hand on my shoulder, his touch bringing me back to the present. I tried to smile as I glanced at the seated students, hoping that I looked nervous, but not unstable, which is exactly how I felt.

    Finally when I couldn¡¯t put it off any longer, I looked directly at Donavon. He was tall like his father, his shoulders broad, body lean, the muscles in his arms and chest were clearly visible through his thin navy t-shirt. His own gray sweatpants were slung low on his narrow hips. His blue eyes looked as shocked as I felt, his shaggy dark blond hair was messy, like he¡¯d only run his hand through it when he got out of bed that morning. His normally generous mouth appeared thin, his lips pressed together as if he were desperately trying to keep something inside. He was just as beautiful as I remembered, and the feelings swelling up inside of me were just as dark as I remembered.

    When Donavon¡¯s gaze met mine, the primal urge to strike him was so strong that I had to fight to maintain control. A low guttural growl escaped my pursed lips as a light breeze kicked up, the air growing cold around me and clouds began to gather overhead. Mac¡¯s grip on my shoulder tightened painfully. The wind became stronger and a raindrop splashed my cheek. Mac¡¯s fingers bit into my flesh, his nails digging in so hard that I thought for sure they¡¯d torn my sweatshirt. The pain reeled in my rage; the winds died down and the sky slowly cleared. The whole scene occurred in mere seconds.

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    ¡°Instructor McDonough,¡± I hissed through tightly clenched teeth. I tried to give Donavon my most angelic smile, but I could tell from the thoughts he was projecting that I looked slightly crazed.

    Confident that I wouldn¡¯t maim his son¡ªor start a natural disaster¡ªMac¡¯s grip on my shoulder released. ¡°I¡¯ll check on you later in the day, Natalia.¡±

    I nodded, so furious at him for springing Donavon on me like this that I didn¡¯t trust myself to speak. He gave a short wave to the class and a nod towards Donavon. ¡°Stop by and see me soon, son.¡±

    Donavon gave his father an easy smile. ¡°You got it, Dad.¡±

    With that, Mac turned and left me to face his son alone. But I couldn¡¯t move; my feet felt as if they were stuck in quicksand.

    ¡°Talia, please have a seat. I¡¯m going to demonstrate the skills that we¡¯ll be working on today, and then we¡¯ll break off into pairs to work on them,¡± Donavon said to me, his voice full of unspoken tension. His intense gaze penetrating straight through my skin, piercing my heart.

    So many questions burned hot and ugly inside of me. Why did you cheat on me? Why didn¡¯t you have the decency to apologize? Why didn¡¯t you ever try to talk to me after everything happened? What are you doing here now? Yet when I opened my mouth, nothing came out, my unspoken questions handing in the air like a thick fog. Donavon¡¯s gaze remained on me.

    Until nine months ago, I had trained for hostile situations. Now, looking into the face of the boy who had broken my heart, I could barely contain my emotions or my powers. Get a grip, Talia, I scolded myself. He¡¯s not important. You don¡¯t care about him, and he doesn¡¯t care about you. Sit down and act like a normal human being. Heeding my own advice, I slowly eased myself onto a cushy mat at the back of the class. Donavan reluctantly dragged his eyes from me and began his lesson.

    He began reviewing basic offensive maneuvers, nothing too complicated or advanced. This must be a remedial class, I thought to myself. I walked around the periphery, observing the students when it was time to break into partners. I made small corrections in technique when I saw fit, but I was still so distracted by coming face-to-face with Donavon that little else mattered.

    During my stay at Mac¡¯s house, I hadn¡¯t been allowed visitors or communication with anyone besides Mac, Gretchen, and the select Medicals that came to treat me. No one had even mentioned Donavon, let alone told me that he was teaching at the School. Though, the more I thought about it, maybe Gretchen had tried¡ªshe¡¯d been nervous and tense when we¡¯d talked over breakfast this morning. Looking at Donavon now, all I could think was that she really should¡¯ve tried harder.

    When I¡¯d left for Nevada, Donavon had been an Elite Operative, same as me, and was stationed at the Elite Headquarters in West Virginia, same as me. He¡¯d also been my boyfriend since I was thirteen, but it ended when I¡¯d caught him naked in bed with another girl.

    It now made perfect sense that Mac had insisted on accompanying me that morning. He must¡¯ve known that, best case scenario, the moment that I saw Donavon I would leave. Worst case scenario, I would cause my own natural disaster right then and there. He¡¯d been right; without Mac¡¯s painful presence, I likely would¡¯ve done something drastic. I¡¯d always lacked impulse control, but lately, my temper was more easily provoked, and reining it in had become harder.

    Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Donavon called class to an end. Grateful to escape his unwelcome presence, I turned to leave with the students.

    ¡°Talia, can I have a quick word?¡± Donavon called after me. I briefly considered refusing to speak to him, but then thought better of it. I¡¯d have to face him eventually; now was as good a time as any. Since this assignment wasn¡¯t exactly voluntary, it was unlikely that Mac was going to let me opt out just because I didn¡¯t want to work with Donavon.

    I¡¯d stopped in my tracks when he called my name, and twisted my neck to meet his gaze.

    ¡°Hey, Donavon, you got a second?¡± a female voice rang out from across the paddock. Despite the distraction, Donavon¡¯s eyes remained locked with mine, pain and regret visible in their cerulean depths. His mind was unguarded, and the thoughts and feelings that poured freely tore open the wound that his betrayal had created.

    ¡°Um, sure,¡± he called regretfully to the approaching woman.

    I snapped my head to face forward and swallowed the rage and bitterness that threatened to rip from my throat in an animalistic scream. His gaze bore into the back of my skull.

    ¡°I had no idea,¡± his mental voice said inside my head. Willing myself to remain composed, I closed my eyes, slowly exhaled, and counted to three.

    When I opened my lids, I forced one sneakered foot in front of the other, away from the boy who¡¯d broken my heart. I could hear the soft murmur of Donavon and the woman conversing, but their words were indistinguishable over buzzing between my ears. A loud, satisfying crack filled the morning air, followed by two strangled yelps as a large limb landed a foot from where Donavon and the woman stood. Pausing briefly to relish in my childish antics, I smiled, continuing to walk away. Maturity had never really been my strong suit.

    Instead of going to my next class, I ran to the Headmistress¡¯ office. I barely noticed the lush green lawn or perfectly manicured flower beds that decorated the School¡¯s grounds. I could not believe that Mac had done this to me¡ªwhat was he thinking? Forcing an interaction between me and Donavon? Was he crazy? Mac was the one who¡¯d continually insisted that my mental state was fragile; what made him think that being around Donavon was a good idea?? Donavon¡¯s betrayal had nearly destroyed me, and now when I was more vulnerable than I¡¯d been in my entire life, Mac was forcing me to relive that pain. What was wrong with him? I continued my mental rant the entire way to the administration building.

 Chapter Forty-One: The One with the Headmistress

    I pushed the wooden door open with more force than necessary, and it gave a satisfying bang as it hit the door jam. The secretary seated behind a sleek wooden desk jumped when I entered.

    ¡°Can I help you, dear?¡± she asked, with a sickeningly pink-lipsticked smile.

    ¡°Is Janet in?¡± I practically growled at her.

    ¡°You mean Headmistress Evans, dear?¡± she replied, her pleasant demeanor becoming disapproving.

    ¡°Yeah, whatever. Is she in?¡± I demanded.

    ¡°Is she expecting you, dear?¡± The smile remained plastered to her face, but suspicion clouded her brown eyes. My temper was already bubbling over and her condescending tone made me want to throttle her.

    Whoa, Talia. Calm down, she¡¯s just a secretary, I warned myself. Squeezing my eyes shut, I pinched the bridge of my nose and took three deep breaths before answering. Seizures weren¡¯t the only lingering effect of my trip to Nevada; my temper had developed a hair-trigger since the ordeal, although that was more likely a byproduct of cabin fever.

    I replaced my scowl with a near manic smile of my own. ¡°I would imagine she is expecting me,¡± I replied as calmly as I could manage.

    ¡°Your name, dear?¡± Ugh, stop effing calling me dear!

    ¡°Talia, Talia Lyons.¡± Pink Lipstick pushed a button on her console. I heard a buzzing noise and then the secretary lifted a handheld unit and spoke into it.

    ¡°Excuse me, Headmistress Evans?¡± she asked. She paused as Janet replied a greeting.

    ¡°There is a student here to see you, ma¡¯am. She claims to have an appointment.¡± Pink Lipstick paused again. ¡°Ms. Lyons,¡± she answered.

    Awesome, she thinks I¡¯m a student.

    ¡°Yes, madam, Talia Lyons,¡± the secretary said firmly. The secretary¡¯s face flushed as Janet admonished her for making me wait.

    Janet¡¯s secretary didn¡¯t appear to be more than late forties at best, but her hearing must already be failing if she kept the volume turned up loud enough that I could hear both sides of the conversation from across the desk. She quietly replaced the handheld unit, looked up and gave me another big pink smile. ¡°The Headmistress will see you now.¡±

    Marching past the secretary¡¯s desk, I twisted the large brass doorknob below the nameplate reading ¡°Headmistress Evans.¡± Janet Evans had become Headmistress of the McDonough School when Mac had been promoted to Director of the Agency. I¡¯d first met her during one of my family¡¯s bi-annual visits to the Agency Compound. Janet had been a Hunter then, and along with Mac, had been one of the Operatives assigned to guard my family during our trip, and I¡¯d taking an instant liking to her. After I¡¯d been enrolled at the School, Janet had become somewhat of a role model for me.

    After my parents had been killed, Janet left the Hunters to become the Headmistress and keep watch over me. She was one of the few who knew the extent of my abilities; what I was actually capable of. In fact, Janet was one of the only people alive who had seen my powers. She¡¯d been with Mac when he rescued me from the destroyed hotel room that had been the scene of my parents¡¯ deaths.

    When I walked into her office, Janet was standing behind her large oak desk with her back to me. She was tall¡ªclose to six feet¡ªand slim. Her reddish-brown hair was streaked with wisps of gray and cut to just above her shoulders. She wore a tailored navy pant suit and the collar of a white oxford shirt peeked out from underneath the jacket.

    ¡°I told him that this was a horrible idea,¡± she stated, her back still to me, her hands busy with something in front of her.

    ¡°A horrible idea? That might be an understatement.¡± The anger that had been building since I¡¯d first laid eyes on Donavon was close to boiling completely over. Janet turned to face me, her slim fingers curled around two crystal glasses that were three-quarters full of amber liquid. Her dark green eyes, creased at the edges, radiated concern.

    She held one of the glasses out, in my direction. I walked slowly forward and wrapped both of my small hands around the cool glass, tracing the Agency¡¯s logo engraved on the side of the tumbler with my thumb. Janet raised her drink in a mock toast, and I gently clanged my own with hers. I looked down into amber liquid, wishing that I could drown myself in its depths before bringing the cup to my lips. The liquor burned; first my tongue, then my throat, and finally my stomach. Draining half the glass, I felt the tension slowly ebb and the anger dissipate.

    I sank into one of the two leather chairs on my side of Janet¡¯s desk. The chair was slick, the liquor had gone instantly to my head, and I nearly slid right off. I scooted all the way back, my feet dangling as they could no longer reach the floor. Meeting Janet¡¯s eyes, I finally managed my first real smile of the day.

    ¡°Better?¡± she asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s a start,¡± I admitted.

    ¡°How are you feeling?¡± she asked, the concern still heavy in her gaze.

    ¡°In general? Or today specifically?¡±

    ¡°Well, I was asking generally. I can imagine how you¡¯re feeling today,¡± she laughed, slipping into her desk chair.

    ¡°Generally, pretty good. The seizures are becoming less frequent. I haven¡¯t had one in almost a month, so I guess that¡¯s good news,¡± I mumbled. Following my return from Nevada, seizures had been a daily occurrence. Medical had worked around the clock to create the equalizer that I now received regularly. Eventually, the seizures had occurred less often, but unfortunately, they haven¡¯t ceased completely. Besides the convulsions and loss of bodily control, the episodes left me extremely tired and mostly bedridden for days afterwards.

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    ¡°Good, I¡¯m glad to hear that. And I see you¡¯re up and walking pretty well,¡± she commented, gesturing to my dangling legs with her drink.

    ¡°Yeah, the physical therapy really helped. It was slow going at first, but I¡¯ve been walking on my own for a couple of months now.¡± The rehabilitation had helped, but it had also been torture.

    ¡°What¡¯d you make of Dr. Wythe?¡± she asked with a knowing smile hovering over the rim of her cup. Janet clearly thought as much of therapy as I did.

    ¡°He was okay, for a therapist. He declared me ¡®stable¡¯, so that is a step toward me returning to active duty. . . . I think.¡± Actually, I wasn¡¯t sure if a ¡°stable¡± diagnosis was good enough for the placement committee, but since it was good enough for Mac, I was hopeful.

    ¡°It is,¡± Janet confirmed. ¡°Now we just need to find you a cure and you¡¯ll be back with the Hunters in no time.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I just hope that the Committee finds in my favor,¡± I replied, examining a small scrape in the leather chair with one fingernail.

    ¡°They will. Mac will make sure of it,¡± she promised. ¡°I¡¯ll make sure of it.¡±

    ¡°Thanks,¡± I said gratefully, meeting her earnest gaze. Knowing that Janet was on my side made me slightly more optimistic. ¡°The way I see it, Mac owes me after springing Donavon on me this morning,¡± I added.

    Janet snorted. ¡°When he told me that he intended to bring you in on this spy hunt, I have to admit that I argued strongly against it. Given what happened between you and Donavon last year, I was worried that you might still be too fragile to handle it. If that¡¯s true¡­¡± She let her voice trail off, the unspoken question hanging in the air. I didn¡¯t need to hear her finish her sentence. Janet was offering to have Mac replace me¡ªshe was giving me an out.

    ¡°No, but thank you. I know that I can¡¯t avoid him forever. I was just caught off guard this morning.¡±

    Part of me did want to take the easy way out and let her convince Mac that I wasn¡¯t ready to work with Donavon. But the proud part of me couldn¡¯t let Donavon win. If I had myself removed from this assignment, Donavon would win.

    ¡°For what it¡¯s worth, he¡¯s been torn up over what happened to you,¡± Janet said, eyeing me carefully for my reaction.

    I arched one eyebrow in surprise and then drained the other half of my drink to cover my reaction. Donavon upset about what happened to me? Somehow I doubted that.

    ¡°How long has he been here?¡± I asked finally, extending my cup for Janet to refill its contents.

    It was Janet¡¯s turn to look surprised, her green eyes full of suspicion. ¡°As long as you have,¡± she answered hesitantly. ¡°Mac didn¡¯t tell you that?¡±

    What? Why had Donavon been here for nine months? He was a Hunter. He should¡¯ve been out on missions, not here doing¡­whatever it was that he was doing. The knowledge that he¡¯d been here this whole time without once attempting to see me was like a bucket of ice to the face. He really didn¡¯t care about me. The confusion must have been evident in my expression because Janet continued without waiting for me to respond.

    ¡°Well, I guess that Mac thought it best you recover in peace,¡± Janet said hastily, refilling her empty glass.

    ¡°Why is he here?¡± I asked, scanning the older woman¡¯s mind to find the truth. Janet had her thoughts guarded and I didn¡¯t want to push.

    ¡°I think that Mac should be the one to tell you.¡±

    Well, that¡¯s ominous.

    I spent the remainder of the day in Janet¡¯s office, catching up on everything that had happened during my confinement. She elaborated on what Mac had told me the previous night, about the covert investigation they¡¯d launched to uncover who¡¯d leaked my identity. Janet agreed that there was a traitor in our ranks. She agreed that my mission was targeted because I was sent directly into Crane¡¯s lair. However, unlike Mac, Janet wasn¡¯t skilled at blocking me; I found in her mind what I assumed was in Mac¡¯s.

    Both felt that there was more to it than that. They both believed that I¡¯d been targeted, at least in part because of who I was and what my Talents were. I¡¯d surmised as much even though Mac had been reluctant to share that detail with me.

    Janet gently grilled me on my confrontation with Crane, hoping that I¡¯d remember some detail I¡¯d been unable to recall when I made my official report. I hated to disappoint her, but I couldn¡¯t shed any more light on the situation. In nine months, I hadn¡¯t been able to determine what I thought about Ian Crane¡¯s insistence that he knew my father. I had no idea if that was true or just something that he¡¯d said to through me off balance. If it was the latter, his plan had backfired. His claims about my father were what sent me over the edge, making me attack him.

    Spending the day with Janet made me feel bad for losing touch with her during my Pledge year. It also made me realize how much I craved human interaction. I¡¯d always considered myself something of a loner. When I was younger and my parents were still alive, I spent most of my time with adults. My parents had kept me out of the public eye as much as possible. They had both known that I was different. Many people felt uncomfortable around me even though they had no idea what I was capable of. But it hadn¡¯t really bothered me. I¡¯d preferred the company of adults to that of children my own age, anyway, so it wasn¡¯t until I came to school that I truly made friends.

    Well, ¡°friends¡± might even be an overstatement. I made exactly one friend: Donavon. Donavon was the first person my own age that I¡¯d ever connected with. We¡¯d quickly become inseparable. I hadn¡¯t yet mastered my Talents when I first formed a connection with Donavon. We stopped communicating with words when we were twelve. At first, we would sit next to each other, holding hands, having our own private conversations. The only outward sign that we were talking would be when one or both of us wouldn¡¯t be able to suppress a giggle. By the time we were thirteen, we didn¡¯t even need to be touching to keep up a continuous dialogue. We were even able to carry on full discussions at night, each in our respective dorm rooms.

    When Donavon had cheated on me, I¡¯d felt like I lost half of my heart. I didn¡¯t realize how much I depended on him until he was no longer there. I hadn¡¯t been able to actually break the connection we¡¯d formed, but the absence of a soft song playing in my head before I went to bed, or a joke when I was called on to answer a question in class, were painful reminders of what I¡¯d lost.

    Now, after being forced into social isolation, I found that I was desperate to converse with people who weren¡¯t ordered to evaluate me. Sure, I knew that Janet was going to report anything that I said to Mac, but at least she was genuinely interested in how I was feeling and what happened to me in Nevada and didn¡¯t view me as a number in a long list of patients.

    The light-responsive windows behind Janet¡¯s desk and the electric lights in her office slowly became brighter, marking the setting of the sun. My stomach gave a rumble. I¡¯d had three glasses of Janet¡¯s liquor and no lunch. Suffice it to say, I was drunk. Definitely time for me to make my way to the cafeteria, I decided. Sliding myself to the edge of the slippery leather chair, I stood, swaying slightly.

    ¡°One surprise before dinner!¡± exclaimed Janet. Her cheeks were rosy from the liquor; she¡¯d had also her fair share of the bottle.

    ¡°A surprise? You shouldn¡¯t have,¡± I teased.

    ¡°Mac wasn¡¯t sure if it was a good idea, but I figured that if he was going to force you to work with Donavon, you deserved a little reward,¡± she smiled, a mischievous twinkle in her green eyes. My curiosity was definitely piqued.

 Chapter Forty-Two: The One with an Old Friend

    I followed Janet out of her office, through the lobby, past Pink Lipstick, and out the front door. Even though the sun was low on the horizon by this point, the air was warm, and my workout clothes were still sufficient for keeping me toasty. Or the liquor might¡¯ve been the real culprit. I concentrated hard on my feet and not falling as I ran to keep up with Janet. We finally came to stop in front of the Crypto Building, one of the few places on the School¡¯s compound that I¡¯d never been inside.

    ¡°What are we doing here?¡± I asked suspiciously.

    ¡°Be patient, you¡¯ll see,¡± she smirked.

    Curious, I waited while Janet entered her security information in the keypad by the door. Once she was cleared, the huge glass doors opened and we entered a giant sterile room, several white leather couches in the middle forming a square. A glass coffee table sat in the center of the square, a fluffy white rug underneath.

    Janet walked past the waiting area and down an equally white and sterile hallway. We passed several closed doors that would have been undistinguishable from the walls if it weren¡¯t for the chrome door handles. Our footsteps echoed loudly in the empty corridor. We walked for what seemed like hours before the floor began to slope ever so slightly downwards. Two chrome handrails appeared and I instinctively reached out for one, holding on as the ramp became steeper.

    The spotlessly clean building was so impersonal it reminded me uncomfortably of Medical. The air was cool and felt stale. I wrapped my arms tightly across my chest to ward off the unpleasant feeling. Janet appeared oblivious to the eerie emptiness of the Crypto facility as she marched forward.

    At the bottom of the slope sat a large room covered with computer screens and barricaded by a thick, glass wall. When we were a foot away from the glass wall, two panes slid apart, allowing access to the main Crypto Bank. A tall girl, so thin that she could only be termed gangly, with bright red-orange hair turned in her swivel chair at the sound of our approaching footsteps. She jumped to her feet and covered the distance between us in three strides. Her lime-green eyes were shining with excitement. She flung her arms open and engulfed me in a huge hug.

    ¡°Penny!¡± I exclaimed as I stood on my tippy toes to return her embrace. I hadn¡¯t seen Penelope Latimore, my best friend, since leaving Elite Headquarters for my ill-fated mission. Mac had forbidden communication with anyone since I¡¯d been hurt, so I hadn¡¯t even been allowed to call her. Penny had been the same year as me in school, but we hadn¡¯t become friends until we were both Pledges. One night, I¡¯d run into her in Hunters¡¯ Village and she¡¯d invited me to hang out. She had been the first person besides Donavon to go out of her way to befriend me. I¡¯d felt an instant kinship with Penny and we¡¯d been best friends ever since.

    ¡°What are you doing here?¡± I squealed. I was so excited to see Penny. I¡¯d missed her terribly over the past couple months, but I hadn¡¯t realized just how much her presence comforted me until her arms were around me.

    ¡°She¡¯s been so worried about you that she pestered Mac and me to death.¡± It was Janet who answered. ¡°I figured that if we didn¡¯t let her see you soon, she might explode.¡±

    ¡°No one would tell me anything,¡± Penny said, sounding exasperated. ¡°Erik and Henri wouldn¡¯t talk about what happened, and everybody else kept telling me it was classified.¡± Her eyes were wide with concern.

    ¡°I figured that we needed a Crypto here to go through the personnel records, anyway, and since Mac needed a person we could trust to be discreet, I suggested Penny,¡± Janet said, grinning at both of us. I beamed back. After my solitary confinement, I was overjoyed to have her again. Gretchen was great and all, but she was no Penny.

    ¡°And this,¡± Janet declared, gesturing to a small brunette with a pixie cut and hazel eyes, ¡°is Gemma Samuels. She will be here mostly as back up. She will still be responsible for her regular work, but since time is of the essence, she¡¯ll be able to assist with anything extra the two of you need.¡±

    ¡°Hi, Gemma.¡± I smiled at the slightly older girl and gave her a small wave.

    ¡°Hey, Natalia. It¡¯s nice to meet you,¡± she replied shyly.

    ¡°Well, I¡¯ll leave you two to catch up,¡± Janet smiled at me and Penny. ¡°Talia, tomorrow you go to all your classes, no more freebies.¡± I rolled my eyes, but nodded my understanding. Penny looked at me questioningly. I just shook my head. Don¡¯t ask, I mouthed.

    ¡°I was just about to get some dinner. Would you guys like me to pick up anything?¡± Gemma asked, standing to go as well.

    ¡°No, thanks, I already ate,¡± Penny told her. I shook my head, even as my stomach grumbled.

    ¡°So, tell me EVERYTHING.¡± Penny turned to me as soon as Janet and Gemma made their exits through the glass doors.

    ¡°I don¡¯t even know where to begin,¡± I said, shaking my head.

    ¡°If you don¡¯t want to talk about it...¡± She trailed off. The look of open curiosity on Penny¡¯s face told me all that I needed to know. She wanted desperately not to pry, but her curiosity and longing were written all over her face. I was going to tell her that I didn¡¯t want to talk about it, but before I could communicate the thought, my mouth began to form the beginning of the story.

    Penny had been part of the Crypto team that intercepted the information regarding Crane¡¯s trip to Nevada, and therefore knew the basic details of my assignment, so I decided to start with meeting Kyle, the guy I¡¯d manipulated into taking me to Crane¡¯s temporary estate. Once on the grounds, I¡¯d ordered Kyle to stay in his bedroom while I searched for information. In Crane¡¯s office, I downloaded the contents of his computer to my communicator. When I finished pilfering the office, I moved on to the basement. I told Penny about the strange resistance that I¡¯d encountered when I tried the basement door. It had been like trying to reach into a blocked mind¡ªmy Talents had been ineffectual against the security.

    I took her through my physical attack on one of Crane¡¯s men in the basement hallway, rage mingled with shame nearly consuming me when I recounted how I hadn¡¯t seen the second man until he plunged the syringe into my neck. That was the chemical injection that now caused my seizures. I relived the panic that I¡¯d felt waking up shackled to a bed, staring at the man who¡¯d killed my parents. Penny listened with rapt attention as I told her about my conversation with Crane, gently probing me on the exact nature of our exchange. Despite my earlier resolve to work out the meaning of Crane¡¯s words on my own, I told Penny about his claims that he¡¯d known my father. Her eyes grew rounder, but she didn¡¯t comment.

    I faltered in my story when I reached the part about being shot. That was the last thing that I remembered. I couldn¡¯t really recall my escape. Everything that had transpired from the time the bullet entered my back until right before I lost consciousness was blurry. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn¡¯t grasp the memories that eluded me; it was like trying to collect raindrops in my hands.

    I had no recollection of stealing a hover vehicle from Crane¡¯s home, but the extraction team had found and disposed of one. I had no recollection of driving nearly one hundred miles to the clearing where I¡¯d been found. I had no recollection of cutting the tracking unit out of my hip to activate it, but I now had a two-inch scar to prove that I had, and that was the signal that the team had used to locate me. I had no recollection of stumbling into the woods and covering my body with wet leaves. These were all details that Mac pieced together for me over the ensuing months.

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    Once I¡¯d activated the tracking unit, a signal had been sent to the Crypto Bank at Elite Headquarters. The Crypto on duty had immediately contacted Mac, who sent out an extraction order to all of the Operatives in the area. Luckily, a medi-craft with cloaking capabilities had been able to respond in under an hour. Later, Mac had told me that I¡¯d lost more blood than the medi-craft had on board. He¡¯d arranged for the craft to land in a small town in Kansas with a fairly advanced Medical facility.

    The doctors in Kansas had done everything in their power to stabilize my condition. But the loss of blood, coupled with the internal damage from the bullet, had left me in a precarious state. Two weeks passed before I was deemed ¡°fit-to-transport.¡± I¡¯d been flown on one of the Agency¡¯s luxury crafts, complete with my own entourage of medical personnel, back to Maryland, to the McDonough School. Once on campus, I remained in the Medical facilities for nearly three months. The first couple weeks had been touch and go as the medics fought to neutralize the effects of the foreign drugs in my blood stream and stop the seizures.

    I spent the following weeks slowly gaining strength back in my legs. The medics on the hover craft had saved my life, but they didn¡¯t have the resources or the technology to repair the nerve and tissue damage caused by the bullet. The Medics at School had done everything they could, too, but too much time had passed for tissue regeneration. It had been up to me to slowly learn how to walk again. After several long months of intense regeneration therapy, Mac took me home to his house, where I¡¯d stayed until this morning.

    There was one part of my long journey that was seared into my mind: Erik¡¯s letter. I¡¯d thought a lot about his words while sitting in my old bedroom, but Erik¡¯s letter was not something that I had shared with anyone. It wasn¡¯t part of my official report. I didn¡¯t want to share his past with others. It would be a gross violation of his trust. I might have been willing to trust Penny with Crane¡¯s admissions about my father, but I couldn¡¯t bring myself to tell her about Erik¡¯s letter.

    Penny listened with rapt attention to my whole story, her eyes wide and unblinking the whole time. Her green eyes filled with tears that began to spill over and mascara streaked down her cheeks like black snakes. Her front teeth bit into her lower lip so hard that blood began to pool around them.

    ¡°Don¡¯t cry, Penny,¡± I said softly. ¡°It¡¯s over. I¡¯m better.¡±

    ¡°You could have died,¡± she sobbed, smearing her makeup further.

    ¡°That¡¯s a risk with any mission I go on,¡± I said evenly, reaching out to take her hand. ¡°Besides, I was foolish. I let my guard down when I thought I was in control of the situation. It won¡¯t happen again.¡± This only made her cry harder. I reached over and hugged her.

    ¡°You smell like liquor,¡± she choked, her voice muffled by my shoulder.

    ¡°I had a little meltdown this morning and Janet thought that a drink might help me relax,¡± I replied, laughing.

    ¡°What happened?¡± she sniffed.

    ¡°Donavon,¡± I replied, rolling my eyes in an attempt to cover my unease. Penny pulled away and looked at me, shock written all over her face.

    ¡°Donavon is here?¡± she asked, wiping her nose.

    ¡°Uh¡­ well¡­ yeah. He¡¯s an Instructor at the School. I think he¡¯s undercover trying to figure out if one of the other Instructors is the leak. He¡¯s part of the same team we are.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I didn¡¯t know. The Director just called me two days ago and said to pack my bags, that I¡¯d been temporarily reassigned. I met with him briefly yesterday, but he didn¡¯t mention Donavon. He just told me what I was supposed to do. I didn¡¯t even know that he was forming like a team or whatever,¡± Penny explained.

    ¡°When did Donavon leave Headquarters?¡± I asked uneasily.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± she said, averting her eyes. ¡°He was on a mission when you were hurt, and he never came back. Harris told me that he¡¯d been suspended from the Hunters for a while. Some people are saying that he was too upset to come back after what happened to you.¡±

    ¡°Upset? Over me getting hurt?¡± I laughed at the absurdity of the rumor even though Penny¡¯s words nearly mirrored the sentiments that Janet had expressed earlier.

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s no secret that you two dated, and a Pledge was assigned to Harris and Arden¡¯s team at the beginning of the year, so¡­¡±  She let her voice trail off.

    ¡°Right, but after the breakup, we didn¡¯t speak. He couldn¡¯t have been that upset.¡± The breakup had ended in me destroying the cabin that he shared with his Hunting teammates, so I seriously doubted that my injuries caused him to leave the Hunters. Donavon had wanted to be a Hunter for even longer than I had.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, Tal. There are a lot of rumors swirling around about what happened to you and why Donavon left, but no one actually knows the truth.¡± Penny searched my face as if the reason for Donavon¡¯s presence was written in the wrinkles on my forehead.

    I let Penny¡¯s words sink in. What was the truth? Sure, if the situation had been reversed, I would¡¯ve been worried about Donavon, but I wouldn¡¯t have left the Hunters.

    My stomach was starting to feel queasy, reminding me that I hadn¡¯t eaten since breakfast with Gretchen. Or maybe it was a reminder of how much Donavon¡¯s presence had affected me that morning. It was only the second time that I¡¯d laid eyes on my first love since the night I¡¯d caught him with the other girl.

    ¡°How¡¯s Erik? Have you seen him much?¡± I asked hesitantly. After Donavon and I had broken up, I¡¯d gotten involved with one of my teammates: Erik. Much like my relationship with Donavon, it had sort of ended in disaster. Right before I boarded the plane to Nevada, our other teammate, Henri, gave me a letter from Erik. That was the letter that I¡¯d read just before passing out in the clearing. Unlike with Donavon, I desperately wanted to see Erik, but I wasn¡¯t positive the feelings were mutual.

    ¡°I¡¯ve seen him a couple of times,¡± she answered with a small smile.

    ¡°How¡¯s he doing?¡± I repeated. He was the only person I missed more than Penny. My inability to get Donavon out of my head had led to a colossal fight between me and Erik, culminating in him storming out of my room the night before I¡¯d gone to find Crane.

    ¡°He¡¯s good. You know, he¡¯s Erik.¡± She shrugged, but didn¡¯t offer any further explanation. She didn¡¯t need to; I knew what ¡°being Erik¡± entailed.

    ¡°So he¡¯s frequenting the city, boozing and womanizing?¡± I laughed, even though I didn¡¯t find any of that the least bit humorous. In fact, the thought of Erik with another girl twisted ugly knots of jealousy throughout my entire body, causing my peripheral vision to go red. I knew that it wasn¡¯t exactly fair. I¡¯d been the one who was still hung up on my ex-boyfriend, but I couldn¡¯t help the way that I felt. Erik hadn¡¯t tried to contact me at all. I guess that his attention span really was as short as the rumors claimed; as soon as I was out of sight, I was out of his thoughts.

    ¡°Um, well, he goes into the city a lot,¡± she answered evasively. ¡°But I think he really misses you.¡±

    The weight that had settled on my chest lifted slightly, and a glimmer of hope broke through the sadness like a ray of sunshine. ¡°Did he say that?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Well, not in so many words, but he¡¯s been really mopey, and he asks about you whenever I see him,¡± Penny admitted, bobbing her head up and down encouragingly.

    ¡°That¡¯s good, I guess,¡± I tried to match her enthusiasm, but Erik asking Penny about me and Erik actually calling me were very different things. Petty as it was, I wanted him to be pining in his room, missing me.

    ¡°How¡¯s Harris?¡± I asked, wanting to change the subject to something more pleasant.

    ¡°He¡¯s good¡­ I guess,¡± Penny said regretfully. ¡°We kind of broke up a couple of months back.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry to hear that,¡± I said honestly. She¡¯d really liked him when they¡¯d first started dating, and they were really cute together, so I was bummed the relationship hadn¡¯t worked out. ¡°What happened?¡±

    ¡°Oh, you know¡­ it kinda just ran its course. We¡¯re still friendly and all, but Harris wasn¡¯t really looking for a serious relationship,¡± she rolled her eyes. ¡°Besides, there are too many other great looking boys running around Elite Headquarters to stay tied down to just one.¡± Penny winked at me. Since becoming friends with Penny, I¡¯d noticed her fondness for crushing on guys; even though she said that it was Harris who didn¡¯t want a serious relationship, it wouldn¡¯t surprise me to learn that Penny really hadn¡¯t been looking for one either.

    We sat for a couple long moments in silence, neither of us really sure what to say to the other. It wasn¡¯t uncomfortable, we were both just absorbing the revelations of the evening.

    ¡°I should probably be heading back to my room.¡± I smiled apologetically at Penny.

    ¡°Already? You just got here!¡± she protested.

    ¡°I know, but I haven¡¯t eaten, and I need to run by Medical,¡± I replied. She looked so disappointed, I almost told her that I would stay a little longer, but the hollowness in my stomach made me change my mind. I was pretty sure that the ache I was feeling had nothing to do with my lack of nourishment and everything to do with my longing for Erik.

    ¡°Tomorrow night?¡± she asked hopefully.

    ¡°Of course, I¡¯ll be over after dinner.¡± I smiled at her reassuringly. I gave Penny one last hug before making my return trip through the glass doors and down the sterile white hallway.

 Chapter Forty-Three: The One with Too Much Pride

    The evening had grown cool and damp, the moon just a sliver overhead but clearly visible in the cloudless sky. I kept my eyes titled upwards, gazing at the stars as I made my way to Medical. It was late and the receptionist was long gone. I wound through the corridors and found Dr. Thistler in her office.

    ¡°Hello, Natalia,¡± she greeted me when I knocked lightly on the open door. ¡°You are late.¡±

    ¡°Sorry, I¡¯ve been busy,¡± I mumbled. She pursed her thin lips in disapproval. She rose from her desk and gestured for me to sit in an empty chair. I did as I was told and watched as Dr. Thistler opened a cabinet and withdrew several vials. With deft movements, she filled a syringe with my medication. I rolled my sleeve back and rested my arm on her desk. Dr. Thistler bent over me and plunged the tip of the needle into the crook on my elbow.

    I sighed. ¡°Thanks.¡±

    ¡°Please come earlier tomorrow,¡± Dr. Thistler responded. I nodded and scurried out of her office.

    The School grounds were deserted. It was past the student curfew. I reached the Instructor¡¯s dorm quickly and climbed the three flights of stairs and found my new room. As promised, my bag of clothes sat on the end of a small bed that was covered with crisp white sheets and a thin white blanket. I realized how tired I actually was as soon as I laid eyes on the bed; this was the longest that I¡¯d managed to stay awake in months, so this shouldn¡¯t have come as a surprise. I wasn¡¯t sure if my perpetual fatigue was a result of my health or extreme boredom.

    Rummaging through the bag for something to sleep in, I sent waves of gratitude toward Gretchen when I pulled out a faded gray t-shirt and a pair of navy sweatpants that were devoid of any shape. I quickly shed the workout clothes that I¡¯d been wearing all day, leaving them in a heap on the floor, and exchanged them for the comfortable pajamas that Gretchen had rescued from my room at Elite headquarters.

    The sheets were cool and scratchy against my exposed skin. I curled into a ball, hugging my knees to my chest, trying to conserve body heat. My last conscious thought of the evening was to have Gretchen send a real blanket.

    The next morning, I woke before the sun was in the sky and tried in vain to go back to sleep. All of the thoughts and feelings that the alcohol suppressed the day before began swimming to the surface of my mind: the unease from seeing Donavon, the anger at Mac for making me unknowingly walk into that situation, the pain of reliving the events in Nevada, the frustration from the memories that still eluded me, the longing to see Erik, and the worry that feelings weren¡¯t being reciprocated. After several failed attempts to quiet the scenes playing in my head, I got out of bed and dressed for a run.

    I donned the first workout clothes that I found in my bag and gathered my hair into a tight ponytail, then left my room.

    Bright stars were still scattered across the ink-colored sky, forming a dazzling map of unexplored territory. The chill in the air brought my senses to life. I inhaled deeply, filling my lungs with the early morning dew that hung in the air, and moisture bathed my face and arms like a cold blanket.

    Over the past few months, my weakened condition had caused walking to be an unwelcome chore and jogging to be torture. Now, with my head bursting from the overload of emotions, my atrophied muscles craved the exercise; the physical exertion and pain felt liberating. After only ten minutes, my breathing was labored, and my t-shirt clung to me, damp with sweat.

    I cleared my mind of my current surroundings, and the trees, already shedding their leaves in preparation for winter, disappeared. The thick green grass beneath my feet ceased to exist. Instead, my mind cycled through images from my memories like a slideshow.

    I saw myself positioned between two handrails, the effort of lifting one foot excruciating, the muscles in my leg tensing, readying themselves for what they knew was next, but next never came. I ran harder. I saw the hallway of Crane¡¯s basement and the man with the syringe. I felt the chemicals heavy in my veins. I ran harder. I saw Donavon cowering in the corner of a room, hands over his head, pleading with me to stop, electricity crackled in my fingers and toes. I ran harder. Mac squatting next to my hospital bed, our eyes locked as he told me what I already knew: Ian Crane killed my parents. I ran harder. I saw myself crouched in a closet, peering through the wooden slats at the men in black mercilessly murdering my parents. I ran harder. I saw the hotel room, windows blown out, bodies of faceless men scattered around me, enclosing me in a circle; all dead. I ran harder.

    The Instructor¡¯s dorm was in sight. My lungs were on fire, every breath felt like a knife plunging deeper in to the flesh between my ribs. My legs screamed in protest as I pushed them each additional step. The memories had been replaced by white electrical snow accompanied by an increasing buzzing sound. The weight of my sweat-soaked clothing was threatening to drag me under the tidal wave of exhaustion I was riding. Salt stung my eyes as I attempted to wipe it away with the back of my dirty, slippery forearm. I was mere feet from the back entrance when my legs finally won the battle with my mind and gave out completely.

    I wrapped my arms around my torso, trying to get my breathing under control. My head spun so fast that I wasn¡¯t entirely sure which way was up anymore. I fell over, my cheek pressed against the cold grass, letting it draw the heat from my body. The world began to right itself and I took a couple of deep breaths for good measure before pushing myself up on all fours.

    I felt his presence before he spoke. ¡°Go away, Donavon,¡± I said quietly, hoping that I sounded threatening.

    ¡°You don¡¯t look so good, Tals,¡± he replied, sounding like he actually cared. ¡°You need help getting up?¡±

    ¡°I said, go away.¡± This time the undertones in my voice were definitely closer to pleading than threatening. Donavon came up behind me. He hesitated, but I knew that his intention was to guide me to my feet. As soon as he made his move, I summoned the last of my strength and kicked my right leg straight up and back. My foot made solid contact with his chest, and he lost his balance, stumbling backward.

    ¡°Suit yourself,¡± he mumbled as he walked away. I smiled. I might be totally out of shape, but Donavon would definitely have a bruise. Sometimes, it¡¯s the little things in life that are the most gratifying. My satisfaction was short lived; I could still feel Donavon¡¯s presence when I began vomiting.

    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    I was so busy regurgitating the previous day¡¯s breakfast that I didn¡¯t even notice Janet until I felt her hand on my back. I tensed.

    ¡°What happened to you?¡± Janet asked worriedly. I relaxed at the sound of her voice.

    ¡°Oh, you know, I just went for a little run.¡± I smiled weakly up at her, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

    ¡°You¡¯re soaked through. How far is a little run?¡± she asked alarmed. Her hand gently stroked my tangled curls.

    ¡°I left at sunrise,¡± I replied sheepishly. Janet grumbled, then wrapped her arm around my waist and carefully lifted me to my feet. I felt a little weak in the knees, but managed to stay upright with her help. I leaned against her gratefully, letting her support most of my weight.

    ¡°You might want to have somebody clean that up.¡± I nodded to the grass.

    ¡°I¡¯ll get right on it.¡± She rolled her eyes.

    Janet guided me up the stairs and into my room before demanding I shower. I still had a small part of my dignity left, so I refused her help to the bathroom. As soon as the cool water hit my face, the stomach queasiness subsided, the cold sweat trickling down my back warmed, and the uncontrollable shaking in my limbs slowed. I stayed in the shower until Janet banged on the door, forcing me out.

    When I finally exited the small bathroom wrapped in my fluffy robe, I found Janet sitting at my desk with coffee, water, and a plate piled with slices of toast.

    She rose when she saw me and motioned for me to sit. I dutifully complied and wasted no time replenishing the calories that I¡¯d unwillingly purged from my body. The bread was soaked with butter that poured into my mouth with each bite. The coffee was too hot and a little on the bitter side, but I was too impatient to wait for it to cool or to bother with sugar. I felt the last hints of uneasiness leave my stomach and my head pounded a little less. By the sixth piece of toast, I was as good as new.

    Janet watched me devour my breakfast without comment. Instead, she picked up my brush and began winding my long dark hair into a braid down my back. The motherly gesture comforted me. By the time she finished, I had consumed the entire loaf of bread.

    ¡°Better?¡± she asked once I¡¯d wiped the excess butter from my hands.

    ¡°Like a million bucks.¡± I smiled.

    ¡°Good, get dressed. Be downstairs in ten,¡± she directed in a gentle voice.

    ¡°You don¡¯t need to walk me. I can find it on my own,¡± I replied. Now that I was once again in control of my gag reflex, I was more than a little embarrassed at the condition she¡¯d found me in.

    ¡°I¡¯m not worried about you finding it. Get dressed.¡± Her voice had a slight edge to it now. She¡¯d expected my reaction to Donavon¡¯s unwelcome presence yesterday, but like she¡¯d promised last night, no more freebies.

    I dressed quickly in black stretch pants, a tight white tank top, and sneakers, still damp from my morning run. Grabbing a light jacket, I set off to meet Janet out front. At the last second, I remembered that Mac had promised to send the personnel files of the Instructors that I was assisting. I hurried back to grab my communicator before leaving the room.

    Janet escorted me just far enough to ensure that I arrived at Donavon¡¯s class. I could feel her gaze until she was sure that Donavon had seen me and my opportunity for escape had passed.

    Donavon gave a slight nod in my direction as I approached. I didn¡¯t reciprocate. Instead, I took a seat on the ground in the back of the mat, folding my legs underneath me. Donavon began by describing, in excruciating detail, each move that he wanted the students to work on. He droned on for so long that I actually thought he might break down the name origin of each skill. I guess my musings were louder than I¡¯d intended because Donavon stopped mid-sentence.

    ¡°Enough talk,¡± he said, smiling at the class. ¡°If I could get my assistant, Ms. Lyons, to come up front, we can demonstrate each of these maneuvers.¡± I would have known, even if he didn¡¯t have a shit eating grin on his face, that I was about to be sorry that I hadn¡¯t kept my thoughts to myself. I slowly made my way to the front of the class, giving a small wave and a half-smile to the seated students. They stared back, wide-eyed.

    Standing next to him, the two of us made quite the pair. Donavon was lean and muscular, biceps straining the sleeves of his shirt, his forearms corded with sinewy muscles. I was small and wiry in comparison. Prior to being shot, I¡¯d actually had a fair amount of muscle; now, I was practically skin and bones. Donavon¡¯s height was impressive next to an average-sized person; he must have looked larger than life standing next to me. More than a few of his pupils looked skeptical about Donavon using me as a demonstration dummy.

    ¡°Do you want to suit up, Lyons?¡± he asked once I¡¯d taken my position opposite him. When students at the School practiced, they often wore suits made of a synthetic material that had been developed in some Agency test facility. The suits were thin and fit the body like a second skin. The fabric wasn¡¯t exactly breathable, but was nearly impossible to penetrate; it dulled the sensation of a hit, so it felt more like a hard pillow than a fist or foot. The suits allowed students to practice with weapons ranging from attack batons to small knives without causing each other too much bodily harm.

    While on missions, Hunters wore a high-tech version of it called an adapti-suit. These both prevented injury by being nearly impenetrable, and camouflaged the wearer by replicating the surroundings. On my first Hunt, I¡¯d found one of the exceptions for piercing the fabric the hard way; nothing keeps out a poisoned tip dagger.

    For practice drills like the one that Donavon wanted to run, the partner being used as a punching bag often won¡¯t wear a full suit, but rather pads on their thighs and core. The pads serve the dual purposes of both giving the attacker somewhere to aim and protecting the wearer. I knew that I should at least put on the pads. But after Donavon found me in such a vulnerable position just hours earlier, I felt the need to show him that I was every bit as hardcore now as I had been before my incident. So, instead of moving to pull on the pads, I met his eyes and answered, ¡°I don¡¯t need one.¡±

    Outwardly, Donavon¡¯s eyes gave a small flicker of something that looked almost like concern. Inwardly, he was all irritation. ¡°Don¡¯t be stupid, Talia,¡± he mentally chastised me.

    ¡°We spar all the time without suits,¡± I mentally shot back.

    ¡°You haven¡¯t sparred in almost a year. You¡¯re not conditioned to take hits anymore.¡± His mental voice sounded impatient.

    ¡°How¡¯s your chest feel?¡± I snapped, my eyes darting to the space where I¡¯d kicked him. Baiting him was probably a bad idea, but I couldn¡¯t help myself.

    He scoffed with irritation, then turned his attention to the class and began going through the motions of the first combination of kicks. He first demonstrated each one in the air, then faced me and demonstrated what each one looked like when it made contact with another person. He was clearly still annoyed with me for . . . well, honestly, probably for a lot of things.

    His first kick struck my thigh with a force so jarring, it reverberated through every bone in my body. My face remained neutral, not betraying any of the pain I felt, but inside, I screamed, and a long string of expletives escaped my mind.

    ¡°Should¡¯ve worn the suit,¡± Donavon shot back. His tone was haughty, but his blue eyes were wary. A brief flash of tenderness warmed his harsh expression. I felt a small flutter in my stomach; damn, I really hated him.

    I guess he decided that I¡¯d learned my lesson after the first kick because he let up on me for the rest of the demonstration. While the students practiced, I wandered through the pairs, correcting technique and trying not to limp. My thigh was throbbing. After what seemed like the entire morning, though actually only ninety minutes, Donavon finally dismissed class. If I¡¯d been an ordinary assistant, I would¡¯ve stayed to help put away the practice mats and pads. But I wasn¡¯t. Both my leg and my pride were stinging, so instead, I just left along with the students.

 Chapter Forty-Four: The One with the Suspects

    Students at the McDonough School have six classes a day, alternating their days between physical and intellectual lessons. The students that I had in class this morning would continue on to small weapons training and defensive combat techniques before lunch, then offensive combat techniques class, large weapons, and finally Talent training after lunch.

    Unlike the students, my second period was not a physical one. Instead, I was assigned to assist Annalise Cleary in her Prevalent Languages of the World class. On the short walk to her classroom, I glanced through her record. I immediately noticed the red flag in her file; Annalise¡¯s husband, Jerald Mathias, defected to Colorado five years after their marriage to join the Coalition. Annalise had been thoroughly investigated at the time and cleared of any wrongdoing. She¡¯d reverted back to her maiden name and continued working for TOXIC.

    I found her room with mere seconds to spare. I quietly walked through the doorway and ducked into the back of the classroom. Not wanting to interrupt, I decided to wait until after her lesson to introduce myself. I leaned against the wall, surveying the class, and immediately felt self-conscious.

    I had forgotten that there was a reason why the students alternated days between physical and academic classes. My stretchy pants and tight workout shirt had fit right in during Donavon¡¯s combat training, but I looked wildly out of place in this classroom, where all the students were wearing khaki slacks, crisp white dress shirts, and navy blazers. Instructor Cleary was wearing a red skirt suit with the collar of a floral-print shirt peeking out from under her formfitting jacket. Well, crap. Not only was I inappropriately dressed, I was willing to bet that I smelled. I¡¯d have to remember a change of clothes tomorrow.

    Annalise Cleary began class as I wrapped myself in the lightweight jacket that I grabbed on my way out of my room. She gave brief instructions in Spanish, then the students opened their bags and began working from glossy books. After she was satisfied that all of the children understood her directions, she finally turned her attention to me. She motioned me over to the desk with a wave of her hand.

    ¡°You must be Natalia Lyons,¡± she said warmly. Up close, I noticed that she was much older than she¡¯d appeared from the back of the room. Lines crinkled around her blue eyes and the corners of her mouth when she smiled. Her nearly black hair, pulled back in a tight bun at the nape of her neck, had a handful of gray streaks interspersed.

    I held out my hand. ¡°Yes, you can call me Talia.¡± I returned her smile, grateful for a friendly face after my encounter with Donavon.

    ¡°Are you proficient in languages?¡± she inquired. Hmmm, I didn¡¯t know. Was I supposed to be? Mac didn¡¯t really specify.

    ¡°Actually, I am.¡± I decided that answering truthfully was best, and languages had been my best classroom subject. I was fluent in most major languages as well as some that were more obscure; it was easy to learn languages when you were a mind reader.

    ¡°Very good. I¡¯ll give you the answer key for the assignments that I need you to grade, and you just have to see if the student¡¯s answers match mine,¡± she replied, still smiling.

    ¡°Great.¡± I tried to match her enthusiasm, but the thought of being relegated to grading papers made me feel more like crying. I failed to see how this was a productive use of my time. Reminding myself that remedial tasks were an unfortunate, but necessary, part of this assignment, I set to work.

    I spent the rest of the class sitting at Annalise Cleary¡¯s desk, comparing test papers to the answer key. Every red mark that I made on a student¡¯s paper made me wonder how this was helping find the person who leaked my identity.

    Once Instructor Cleary¡¯s attention was diverted, I risked skimming the rest of her file for pertinent information.

    Annalise Bernice Cleary was born forty-two years ago in Atlanta, Georgia, the only child of Jonah and Eloise Cleary. The report listed her as an Elite-level Electrical Manipulator. In her junior year, she¡¯d taken three placement tests for the Hunters, the Crypto Division, and the Weapons Division. She¡¯d placed with the Weapons Division and received a position there after the successful completion of her Pledge year.

    After four years of developing and manufacturing advanced weapons, Annalise requested a transfer to the School after her husband¡¯s defection. The transfer had been approved since she was cleared of any involvement. Following her reassignment, she put in her dues as an assistant Instructor before being receiving her own class seven years ago.

    The students seemed to genuinely like her, always giving her favorable reviews. Janet also appeared pleased with her teaching abilities and had nothing but praise for the woman in her annual reviews.

    Annalise had never remarried after her husband¡¯s defection, and I can¡¯t say I blamed her. After a betrayal like that, I wouldn¡¯t have either. Other than her ex-husband having proven to be a traitor, there was nothing suspect that jumped out in her file. Well, nothing except her Talent Ranking.

    Elite-level Electrical Manipulators weren¡¯t rare, and I¡¯d come across a handful in my time at School and with Toxic. They all shared a unique brain pattern, one that I hadn¡¯t felt in my brief interactions with Instructor Cleary. All exceptionally strong Talents gave off a signal of sorts, emitting a crackle that felt like a tiny shock to my system. When I formed a strong enough connection with someone to read their mind, the impulses were stronger and sometimes even uncomfortable. Annalise didn¡¯t radiate so much as a spark. I made a mental note to double check the information with Penny later that evening.

    After World Languages, I was off to aid an Instructor named Cadence Choi in her defensive combat techniques class.

    From a quick look at Cadence¡¯s file, I learned that she was a twenty-four-year-old Mid-level Light Manipulator from Brooklyn, New York. She was the youngest of Clarence and Raven Choi¡¯s three children. Her middle brother, Daniel, was a Low-level poly-morph who currently served as a guard for one of TOXIC¡¯s weapons facilities. Randy, her oldest brother had been a guard at Tramblewood Corrections Facility, the prison where Toxic housed the highest-priority offenders. He¡¯d been charged with treason and jailed after helping an inmate escape. The inmate had been Ian Crane¡¯s sister. Interesting, very interesting.

    After Randy¡¯s fall from grace, the entire Choi family had been scrutinized, but they¡¯d all been found innocent of any nefarious deeds. Despite that, both Cadence and Daniel¡¯s movements were still heavily monitored. I would have to remember to ask Penny to pull Daniel¡¯s file for me.

    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    Thankfully, I arrived at Cadence¡¯s class with plenty of time to spare. I walked straight up to her and introduced myself.

    ¡°Hi, Cadence? My name is Talia, Talia Lyons,¡± I said, extending my hand to her in greeting.

    ¡°I was expecting you yesterday,¡± she replied, pointedly staring at my fingers like they might bite her.

    ¡°Sorry, my paperwork had some problems,¡± I lied. My personal situation with Donavon was none of her business.

    Cadence Choi was not much larger, or much older, than I was. She wore baggy gray sweatpants and a white short-sleeve shirt. All of her facial features were scrunched. Her eyes could only have been described as beady, her pupils so large that they looked like black orbs, set deeply in her face. Her nose was small and very turned up at the end, like she had once made a face in reaction to something malodorous and her nose had subsequently been stuck that way. Her mouth was small and puckered, like she was ready to kiss somebody at any moment.

    ¡°Were you in the student¡¯s Offensive Combat Techniques class this morning?¡± she asked. I nodded in reply. ¡°Good. We will be learning the defensive maneuvers that correspond to the combinations Donavon taught this morning.¡±

    I didn¡¯t need to delve into Cadence¡¯s mind to know that she had a major crush on Donavon. Her beady little eyes lit up like a firework when she said his name. I had an overwhelming urge to giggle.

    ¡°Roger that,¡± I said instead. She gave me a hard look, trying to decide if I was mocking her.

    I hadn¡¯t established enough of a connection to get much from her mind, but I could almost see the waves of dislike rolling off her body as she looked me up and down. I was definitely off to a slow start making friends.

    I studied Cadence as she demonstrated several defensive moves, grudgingly watching her fluid motions and perfect form. I hated to admit it, even to myself, but she was very good. The mastery of her skills wasn¡¯t lost on the students either; they all observed her with rapt attention, seemingly unable to tear their eyes away.

    ¡°Ms. Lyons, if you could help me out?¡± she called.

    ¡°Um, sure,¡± I mumbled, moving to the front of the practice mats.

    ¡°I need you to walk through the skills Donavon taught this morning. Can you handle that?¡± she asked in a short, clipped voice.

    ¡°I can,¡± I snapped before remembering that I needed to gain her confidence, not make her dislike me more than she clearly did.

    Starting slowly, I aimed light jabs at her midsection, letting her block my weak attempts. As the demonstration progressed, I realized that she was fast¡ªreally fast. And she was responding to my slow movements with more force and aggression than necessary. Her attitude irritated me and I picked up my game. Soon, we were sparring for real, both of us panting and sweaty. Not only was Cadence fast, she was almost as good as I was. Fearing that she would get the best of me, and not wanting to be shown up in front of a bunch of students, I decided to show her exactly how good I was. My next movement landed her flat on her back.

    Normally, I wouldn¡¯t have stopped there; I would¡¯ve pinned her to the ground until she conceded my victory. However, the audible gasp from the pupils in attendance brought me back to reality. So, instead of claiming my win, I reached out my hand in an attempt to help her to her feet. Her beady black eyes were murderous as she stared up at me from the ground. I recoiled at her open hostility. She reached for my hand but instead of grasping it to let me help her up, her own arm¡ªfrom fingertips to shoulder¡ªdisappeared in front of my eyes. My fingers grasped air. I¡¯d braced myself to pull her to her feet but her trick had caught me off guard and I stumbled.

    Several of the students snickered. Cadence¡¯s lips curled into a snarl as she glared at me through the pieces of her black hair that had escaped her ponytail during our scuffle.

    ¡°Light Manipulator,¡± she said quietly. I¡¯d known that; I just hadn¡¯t anticipated her using her ability to embarrass me. Cadence moved from where I¡¯d fallen on my hands and knees and began assigning practice partners to the class. I had to bite my lip as the anger and humiliation at her having gotten the last word threatened to cloud my better judgment. Taking three deep, calming breaths, I plastered a smile on my face. I spent the remainder of class suppressing my desire to attack the girl.

    After class, I made my way to the Instructor cafeteria. Gretchen had assured me that the food here would be better here than the students¡¯, but I wasn¡¯t optimistic as I entered and saw long plastic tables anchored to the floor by long plastic uncomfortable benches.

    I joined the end of the line of teachers and assistants waiting to load their plates with mystery meat and crispy lettuce from the food bar. The chicken was covered in thick, brown gravy, and actually smelled amazing. My mouth watered and my stomach rumbled as I searched for an empty table. I knew that I should join some of my colleagues and try and dig around a little, but I wasn¡¯t really in the mood. Finding all of the tables already occupied, I chose the least hostile looking option: a small blond boy with his nose buried in a book.

    ¡°Mind if I sit?¡± I asked, approaching his side. The boy looked up at me and his eyes widened, taking on a glazed expression.

    ¡°Sure,¡± he squeaked in reply. ¡°I mean, sure, it¡¯s okay if you sit. Not sure, I mind if you sit,¡± he felt the need to clarify.

    ¡°Thanks,¡± I smiled, regretting my choice. This kid was definitely in the Crypto department, I thought to myself. If his stringy, blond hair and paler-than-normal complexion weren¡¯t dead giveaways, his rambling lack of interpersonal skills were.

    ¡°Talia,¡± I said, holding out my hand to him as I slid onto the bench. ¡°I just started here as an assistant.¡±

    ¡°Ernest Tate,¡± he replied, extending one freckled hand. ¡°I am an Instructor for Advanced Crypto Techniques class.¡± Ha. I knew it.

    ¡°Ah, so you¡¯re a Brain,¡± I said, giving him a knowing grin. Brain was a slang term for a Higher Reasoning Talent. I hadn¡¯t taken any advanced Crypto classes¡ªor any at all¡ªwhile I was in school, but Penny obviously had. I added Ernest¡¯s name to my growing list of files to be pulled. A Brain could definitely be the leak.

    ¡°Yeah, I guess I am,¡± his face reddened with embarrassment. I decided to take a look into his thoughts.

    ¡°How long have you been teaching here?¡± I asked as I took a bite of my ranch-drenched salad and latched onto his hazel eyes.

    ¡°Just a year,¡± he answered.

    ¡°Where were you stationed before that?¡± I continued. Ernest looked young, but I didn¡¯t think that he was young enough to have only graduated the previous year.

    ¡°A computer development facility in Scranton, Pennsylvania,¡± he answered.

    ¡°How long were you there?¡± I pressed, swallowing the lettuce and picking up my knife to cut the chicken.

    ¡°Two years,¡± he replied, playing with the gravy on his own plate. With every answer he gave, I got a better feel for his brain patterns. Like Electrical Manipulators, Higher Reasoning Talents had unique patterns. Ernest¡¯s synapses fired so rapidly that it made me dizzy, and the overactive brain functioning was exactly what I¡¯d expect from a strong Higher Reasoning.

    ¡°Why did you leave?¡± I asked. If he thought that I was being nosey, he didn¡¯t let on; he actually seemed pleased that a girl was taking an interest in him. I gathered that Ernest didn¡¯t have a lot of friends.

    ¡°The pressure was too much,¡± he admitted, his face going scarlet as he averted his eyes. I smiled sympathetically at him. He was an easy read, not much of a mental guard, and was telling the truth, at least about the pressure being too intense.

    ¡°What did you do before you came here?¡± he asked, visibly sagging with relief when he no longer had the added weight of my mind on his shoulders.

    ¡°I was . . . well, I was a Hunter Pledge,¡± I answered after a long pause.

    ¡°Man, you must know all about pressure, then, huh?¡± It wasn¡¯t really a question as much as a statement, but I felt the need to answer anyway.

    ¡°Yeah, I guess you could say that¡¯s why I left my previous post, too. I basically broke down on my solo mission.¡± I tried to look like the admission made me uneasy, which wasn¡¯t hard because it was basically the truth; I had broken down on my solo mission, at least physically.

    After lunch ended, Ernest walked with me to the academic building before saying our goodbyes. He might have been a suspect, but at least Ernest seemed to like me. That was more than I could say for some of the others whom I¡¯d encountered thus far.

 Chapter Forty-Five: The One with the Suspicious Electrical Manipulator

    My first class of the afternoon was Talent History taught by Thad Wietz. My interrogation of Ernest had left me little time to search Thad¡¯s file for his red flag. I walked into the classroom and made my way to the front of the room to introduce myself, blind to Mac¡¯s reasons for including him on my short list of suspects.

    The first thing that I noticed about Thad was his size. He was huge. Next to Thad, even Donavon would¡¯ve looked like a child. He had a mess of reddish-brown hair, pulled back in a short ponytail, and his piercing green eyes bore down on me as I went to shake his enormous hand. When he spoke, he had an odd accent that I thought might be Scottish. I was willing to bet that his lineage was what had landed him on my suspect list.

    Thad seemed friendly enough. He asked me to sit in the back of the class and just observe for the day. Happy to oblige, I tuned out his lecture on the Great Contamination and observed the students in the class instead. Nobody stood out as being particularly devious, but I imagined that listening to history lectures probably dulled even the sharpest of criminal masterminds into a near comatose state.

    Thad dismissed class when my own mind had been sufficiently numbed and my eyes burned from the effort of trying not to blink, for fear my eyes might not be able to force themselves back open. I nearly knocked over my desk in my eagerness to leave the room. History had been my least favorite subject while in school, and I truly believed that Mac chose this class for me more as punishment for my attitude since the incident, and less because he actually suspected Thad.

    Thankfully, my last two classes of the day were both physical. The first was a small caliber weapons class, which happened to be my specialty. Guns were never my favorite, less so since being on the receiving end of a bullet. Despite that, I could hit a moving target from further away than most thanks to Henri¡¯s master tutelage. I was proficient with a bow and arrow, but rarely had the patience to put such weapons into practice. Hand knives, throwing stars, and daggers¡ªthat was where I excelled.

    The Small Weapons Instructor was Griffin Knight, and no introductions were necessary; Griffin had been my Small Weapons Instructor when I was a student. I had been looking forward to this class all day. Griffin had been a teacher at the School for decades, and I¡¯d started training with him when I was just eleven.

    When I first saw Griffin¡¯s name on my schedule, I¡¯d been shocked that Mac assigned me to assist in his class. I desperately hoped that I wasn¡¯t here because Mac really thought that Griffin was the leak, but instead because he thought that I deserved a treat after all the crap instructors I¡¯d endured. I¡¯d always liked Griffin.

    My fears were put to rest the moment I opened his file. Instead of personnel information, Mac¡¯s secretary had included a note, indicating that I was actually to be an aide for Griffin. It also said that Mac wanted me to assist Griffin because I would be an asset to his students, most of whom were extremely strong Talents, likely to be placed with the Hunters or the Military Police.

    Griffin¡¯s face lit up when he saw me. ¡°Class, we have a real treat,¡± he exclaimed, clapping his big hands together in a gleeful gesture. ¡°The Director and Headmistress have found an assistant Instructor whose experience will be invaluable to us.¡± Griffin¡¯s white head bobbed up and down enthusiastically as he spoke.

    ¡°Don¡¯t make promises that I can¡¯t deliver on,¡± I teased Griffin.

    ¡°Everyone, I would like to introduce you to my star pupil, Natalia.¡± I waved at the class, feeling more than a little embarrassed. I surveyed the doubtful faces of the seven seated Talents. No surprise there; they were skeptical. Apparently, Griffin saw the same thing that I did.

    ¡°I think a little demonstration might be in order.¡± He winked at me.

    ¡°I¡¯m a little rusty,¡± I warned, fearing that my weapons skills had gone the way of my running abilities. At least I hoped throwing knives was unlikely to make me vomit.

    ¡°Duly noted, my dear,¡± he replied, with a knowing smile. He thought that I was being modest; little did he know. ¡°Pick your poison.¡±

    Griffin had laid out a number of small weapons on tables set up behind him. I walked slowly from table to table, drinking in the varying choices. After making a complete circuit, I opted for a belt that I secured around my hips, with two six-inch blades. The knives had hand-holds and weren¡¯t ideal for throwing but great for lashing out at an opponent. Both hand-holds had a thumb release button that snapped open, allowing you to either throw the blade or just drop it if necessary. Next, I selected an ankle holster with four throwing blades and a thigh holster with an additional four blades. A Hunter was only so heavily armed in practice; all of that weaponry weighed you down in the field.

    Behind the tables of weapons was an obstacle course. The course hadn¡¯t changed since the first time I attempted it years ago. It was rigged with scarily lifelike dummies that popped out at every other turn. The dummies didn¡¯t actually attack, but you had to deliver an incapacitating blow to get past them. The obstacle course had just that¡ªobstacles: rope swings over water, rock walls, rope bridges, and mud pits. It had always been one of my favorite activities.

    I crouched at the beginning of the course, waiting for Griffin to signal me to start. As soon as he blew his whistle, I sprinted for the first rock wall. Clearing it with relative ease, I took off across the rope bridge at the top. The first assailant stood halfway across the bridge; I stabbed him in the neck with my blade and continued on.

    After taking part in actual missions with the Hunters, facing real enemies with real weapons, the course was a breeze. Even though I was out of shape and sucking wind, I finished in record time, even for me.

    ¡°Amazing as usual!¡± Griffin exclaimed, clapping me on the back as I stood doubled over, my hands resting on my thighs, trying to catch my breath.

    ¡°Thanks,¡± I panted, twisting my neck to smile up at him through sweat-soaked curls. Behind Griffin, I could see the astonished faces of the students. Their skeptical stares had turned respectful, and I couldn¡¯t help but feel immense satisfaction. Donavon might have bruised my thigh¡ªand my ego¡ªand Cadence might have humiliated me in front of her class, but at least I knew that I hadn¡¯t completely lost my touch.

    The final class of the day was Telekinesis Training with Ursula Bane. As with Griffin¡¯s class, Mac actually wanted me to aid Ursula¡¯s students since they all possessed telekinetic powers. Unlike Griffin, Ursula did have some suspicious incidents in her past.

    Her parents hadn¡¯t submitted her for mandatory testing when she was five, which wasn¡¯t a huge deal in and of itself. However, both of her parents were outspoken members of a rebel group that opposed the testing laws. The Agency hadn¡¯t actually discovered a connection between them and the Coalition, but openly disagreeing with the law was only one step removed from being branded a Crane supporter, and a traitor.

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    TOXIC first became aware of Ursula when she was arrested with her parents at an anti-testing rally when she was thirteen. When the members of the Interrogation Division had questioned her, they¡¯d realized that she was a very strong Telekinetic. Afterwards, they offered her a place at the McDonough School, which she readily accepted. Until she¡¯d met members of the Agency, Ursula had never realized her ability to move objects with her mind was actually a Talent.

    Since attending the School and then becoming a member of the Agency, Ursula had proven herself to be a loyal Operative. But while she was establishing her allegiance, her parents became increasingly more outspoken. As a result, they were both currently serving time at Affelwood Correctional Facility, a low-security prison in D.C. The red flag in her file was because Ursula had been to visit her parents in prison numerous times in the months prior to my mission to Nevada. Those visits were undoubtedly monitored. I just needed to get copies of the recordings¡ªanother job for Penny.

    Unlike Cadence, Ursula was thrilled at my presence. At least until she realized that my Talent was stronger than hers. From her file, I¡¯d learned TOXIC considered her to be an Extremely-High level Telekinetic. I immediately registered the smugness she felt in her abilities. Her arrogance irritated me to no end, even though I also had a certain amount of pride in my own powers, which may have been the reason our personalities conflicted. I had to keep reminding myself during her class that my primary objective was learning whether she was a spy, not showcasing my clearly-superior skills.

    After my classes wound down for the day, I jogged back to the Instructor¡¯s dorm. My stomach grumbled with hunger. I couldn¡¯t wait to get to dinner, but I was fairly certain that Penny wouldn¡¯t appreciate it if I showed up without showering first.

    Hurrying through the front of the dorm, I took the stairs two at a time to the third floor. I mentally switched the door lock to open as I rounded the corner to my room. I quickly shucked my clothes and made for the shower, wishing that I was back at my room in Elite Headquarters, where I could just program my wall sensor for maid service. No such luck. Here, I was my own maid.

    The warm water felt great on my already-beginning-to-ache muscles. I desperately craved more time for the warm water to ease the lingering tension from earlier in the day, but I knew that I needed to hurry if I was actually going to eat before meeting Penny. Full of regret, I turned off the water with a sigh and reached blindly for the fluffy white towel hanging on the bar attached to the back of the door. I quickly dried off and dressed in a pair of lightweight navy blue drawstring pants, a soft white shirt, and well-worn leather sandals. I glanced at the clock on my desk. ¡°Crap,¡± I said out loud. I was, as per usual, late. Grabbing a lightweight zip-up jacket, I headed for the door.

    I made it halfway to the cafeteria when I ran into Mac.

    ¡°You forgot to go to Medical today,¡± he said as soon as he spotted me.

    ¡°Evening to you, too,¡± I replied.

    ¡°You know how important it for Medical to sample your blood levels every day, Natalia. Not to mention, you need your injection.¡± Mac ignored my glib comment. His cold eyes surveyed me disapprovingly.

    ¡°My day was great, thanks for asking.¡± I smiled as though he¡¯d actually inquired.

    ¡°Medical. Now,¡± he barked. Mac had no sense of humor.

    ¡°I was just on my way to dinner. Care to join me?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Natalia,¡± he warned.

    ¡°Mac, I am staaaarrrving,¡± I whined.

    ¡°I will have dinner sent to you and Operatives Latimore and Samuels at the Crypto Lab.¡± Without another word, Mac turned and walked away. I grumbled to myself as I altered my course towards Medical, my stomach protesting loudly.

    After my routine blood taking, chased down with my daily injection of experimental medicine, I finally made my way to the Crypto Building. As soon as the glass doors slid open, granting me entry to Penny¡¯s inner sanctuary, my olfactory senses lit up. I inhaled deeply, drinking in the wonderful scent of Gretchen¡¯s cooking.

    ¡°Roasted hen,¡± I called. I breathed in again. ¡°Mashed sweet potatoes with honey butter.¡± Sniff, sniff, sniff. ¡°Greens with roasted pine nuts?¡±

    ¡°You got it!¡± Penny exclaimed, smiling at me. ¡°Mrs. McDonough had it delivered a couple minutes ago. It¡¯s delicious,¡± she added, glancing guiltily to her plate, already piled high with large helpings. Gemma also looked shamefaced for starting to eat without me. I sat down and helped myself to equally large portions of the feast, and the three of us sat in companionable silence as we gorged ourselves with Gretchen¡¯s cooking.

    ¡°Food coma,¡± I muttered, licking the last remnants of potato off my plastic fork. I looked sideways at Penny, who was staring glassy-eyed at the bank of computers. She nodded her agreement. A wave of exhaustion hit me as I began to digest the enormous meal.

    ¡°The Director gave me the list of Instructors that he paired you with as a starting point,¡± Penny began just as my eyelids were becoming too heavy to keep open. Shaking my head, I tried to jostle myself awake. ¡°I did a more thorough background search of each,¡± she continued. ¡°I printed you the in-depth reports.¡± Penny handed me a stack of thick folders.

    ¡°Thanks,¡± I answered.

    ¡°You learn anything useful today?¡± Penny asked hopefully.

    ¡°Not really,¡± I said, absently flipping through the first folder. It was Annalise¡¯s, reminding me to ask Penny about her Talent ranking. ¡°Actually, there was one thing I was curious about. This first Instructor, Annalise Cleary, is listed as an Elite-Level Electrical Manipulator.¡±

    ¡°Yes, why?¡± Penny looked confused.

    ¡°Will you double check that?¡± I asked. Penny narrowed her eyes at me, but wheeled her chair several computers down. Her fingers flew adeptly across the keys.

    ¡°Annalise Bernice Cleary,¡± she read from her screen. ¡°Elite levels of Talent consistent with Electrical Manipulation,¡± Penny confirmed. That was what my printout said, too. I stared down at the file, twisting my face in concentration.

    ¡°I assume you disagree with that diagnosis?¡± Penny asked dryly.

    ¡°Disagree might be a strong word,¡± I replied. ¡°More like, question its accuracy?¡±

    Penny laughed. ¡°Okay, lay it on me. Do tell, Dr. Lyons, why do you question the accuracy?¡± she said, sarcasm dripping from her words.

    ¡°Well, for starters,¡± I began, putting a slight effect on my words, trying to match the tone used by highly educated Medicals and Psycho Medicals. ¡°Ms. Cleary exhibits none of the brain patterns consistent with an individual possessing such levels of Talent. Additionally, Ms. Cleary does not exude electrical impulses, which she would if she were, in fact, capable of electrical manipulation to the degree you so claim.¡± Penny couldn¡¯t contain herself and her body shook with silent laughter. Even Gemma burst into a fit of giggles as I mocked the Medicals¡¯ haughty mannerisms.

    ¡°Care to repeat that in dummy speak?¡± Penny asked, wiping a tear from her eye.

    ¡°What!¡± I exclaimed. ¡°The brilliant Penelope Latimore doesn¡¯t understand technical jargon?¡± I brought my hand to my chest and took in a gasp as I feigned shock.

    ¡°Ha ha, I don¡¯t know everything,¡± she shot back, her face flushing slightly. I suppose when your IQ was off the charts, you didn''t like having your intelligence questioned.

    ¡°I¡¯m just saying that her mind doesn¡¯t feel like other strong Electrical Manipulators,¡± I said.

    ¡°What do you feel when you read her thoughts?¡± Penny asked.

    ¡°Nothing really.¡± I shrugged. ¡°She feels like a normal person.¡±

    ¡°Interesting,¡± Penny mused thoughtfully. ¡°I¡¯ll pull her placement exam records and see if there are any inconsistencies.¡±

    ¡°Thanks.¡±

    Penny and I spent the remainder of the evening dissecting the other Instructors¡¯ profiles. I committed every seemingly important morsel to memory, making a mental checklist of every fact that I wanted to verify with each teacher. By the time that I noticed the clock on Penny¡¯s desk, it read 11:53 p.m. I yawned.

    ¡°I need to get to bed,¡± I announced. ¡°Need to be bright-eyed to kick Donavon¡¯s butt tomorrow morning.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll call you a car to take you back.¡± Penny hit a button on her console, a tired voice answering on the first ring. ¡°I need a car to take Talia Lyons back to Instructor housing,¡± Penny said by way of greeting.

    ¡°The vehicle will be outside in five minutes, Ms. Penny,¡± the voice replied. Penny thanked the man and hit a second button on the console, ending the call. I tucked my files under my arm and said goodnight to Penny and Gemma.

    ¡°Oh! I almost forgot! Will you do me a favor and check out a guy named Ernest Tate? He teaches Advanced Crypto something or other,¡± I said.

    ¡°Sure thing, I¡¯ll have a profile on him when you get here tomorrow night,¡± she readily agreed. I smiled in appreciation and gave her a small wave as I left.

 Chapter Forty-Six: The One with the Lost Letter

    As tired as I was, sleep still eluded me. My mind buzzed with thoughts of Donavon. Why was he really here? If this morning was any indication, it appeared that his sole purpose was to torture me. In reality, I suspected that Mac had recruited him to covertly investigate the other Instructors as well. But why hadn¡¯t Mac told me? His omission unnerved me, and I couldn¡¯t let it go, much like a dog with a bone.

    Once I¡¯d exhausted that train of thought, my mind wandered to Erik as it so often did. I replayed the words from his letter, words that I¡¯d committed to memory. It was a good thing that I had since I no longer had the letter. When Mac had finally let me read the entire incident report on my mission, I¡¯d noticed that Erik¡¯s letter had not been listed among my personal belongings. I prayed that it was because the letter hadn¡¯t been found and not because someone had found it and turned it over to Mac. The rational part of my brain knew that the words had likely been torched along with the blood-soaked leaves that had nearly been my burial shroud, but I couldn¡¯t shake the anxiety that I¡¯d failed Erik and unwittingly divulged his secrets. Protocol dictated that if an Operative bled during a mission, anything contaminated had to be burned, and that letter had been smeared with my blood.

    I considered calling Erik. Mac hadn¡¯t explicitly lifted the moratorium on interactions with non-approved people, but I figured that I was now back among the land of the living, the restrictions were no longer applicable. The problem was I had no idea what I would say to him if I did call. Our last encounter had been less-than-friendly. Yet he had sent Henri with that letter, and his desire to confide something that was so personal felt a lot like a peace offering. Still, I couldn¡¯t muster the courage.

    What if he didn¡¯t want to talk to me? Penny said that he was back to being his old self. What if he had a girlfriend? What if he had several girlfriends? The notion tore at my chest like razor blades slicing open old wounds.

    I finally fell asleep before my subconscious could conjure up anymore unpleasant scenarios.

    The next morning, I woke before my alarm. Like yesterday, the tension running through my body made it impossible for me to continue sleeping. I turned my alarm clock off and quickly dressed in running clothes. This time, I added a thick nylon belt with bottle holders to my ensemble. I filled three bottles with water from the tap in my bathroom and secured them to the loops at my waist. I chalked up yesterday¡¯s embarrassing display to dehydration and was determined not to repeat it.

    Setting off at a slow jog, I replayed the events from the previous day in my mind. I analyzed my interactions with each individual in light of Penny¡¯s more in-depth profiles. Next, I mentally scripted the questions that I would ask each teacher. When I exhausted that task, I moved on to recalling the highlights of each profile.

    All of the Instructors, except for Thad, had some family member who was either affiliated directly with the Coalition or who was strongly suspected of supporting their cause. Thad was from a different country, a fact which warranted a little mistrust on its own, but not much. Many other countries didn¡¯t have schools to train Talents, so it wasn¡¯t uncommon for foreign children to come here for education. Part of the deal was that if they were educated here, they stayed here after graduation and worked for TOXIC. Many thought that it was a good alternative to being ostracized for their abilities in their countries. Thad had been a Hunter, which meant he would¡¯ve come in contact with Coalition members and turned spy as a result; but Thad had a good record and hadn¡¯t raised suspicion in all the years that he¡¯d been a Hunter or an Instructor with the Agency.

    Annalise Cleary, at best, seemed like a fake. Her Talent Ranking was listed as ¡®Elite¡¯, but I had serious doubts that it was, in fact, true. However, I also doubted that made her a spy, and chalked the inconsistency up to a mistake during her ranking tests. Until I delved further into her psyche, or questioned her extensively about contact with her ex-husband, I wouldn¡¯t know for sure whether she was one of the good guys.

    Cadence Choi stunk of desperation to prove that she was better than her ranking. Penny¡¯s report indicated that Cadence had taken the Hunter¡¯s Placement Exam. She¡¯d been rejected because her Talent ranking was too low since the Hunters only accept Talents with a ranking of Extremely High or Elite. She¡¯d requested several transfers to the Hunters in the six years that she had been teaching at the School, and each had been denied. Personally, I thought that she was lucky to have been granted an Instructor position at graduation as opposed to an assistant one; new graduates were seldom awarded such a noteworthy post. Despite our instant mutual dislike for one another, I had to admit that she was really a very good fighter, and not a bad teacher.

    Ursula was a surprisingly hard read. Aside from her extreme arrogance where her Talents were concerned, I¡¯d been unable to get much of a feel for her. Luckily, she was her own favorite topic of conversation, so I doubted that it would be difficult to get her talking about more intimate matters. Thinking about Ursula made me realize that I¡¯d forgotten to ask Penny about getting the recordings of her visits with her parents at Affelwood. I really needed to start writing this stuff down.

    Even as I repeated the Instructors¡¯ records in my head, thoughts of Donavon crept to the surface. Penny¡¯s more extensive background reports gave a detailed history of past relationships and known acquaintances at each posting. If casual friendships and known hook-ups had been immortalized in their files, I was confident that my own high-profile relationship with Donavon had been carefully documented. The realization made me incredibly uncomfortable, and slightly desperate to read our files.

    TOXIC did not prohibit Operatives from marrying and having children with one another, even encouraging the idea in some cases. Though scientists hadn¡¯t conclusively proven that Talented parents begot Talented children, it was more common if at least one of the parents was. Donavon was an Extremely-High-level Morpher, and I was an Elite-level Mind Manipulator; it was almost a certainty one of our children would have strong powers. Mac had encouraged our relationship for this reason, and he wasn¡¯t the only one. Many believed that a pairing such as ours would prove extremely beneficial to the furtherance of TOXIC¡¯s objectives.

    As the Director¡¯s son, Donavon was slated to follow the same course as his father. After his stint here, as an undercover spy hunter or whatever his actual assignment was, I assumed that he would return to Elite Headquarters and the Hunters. In a few years, he would be promoted to team captain. Like Mac, he¡¯d become Headmaster by the time he was forty. Donavon would likely be appointed Captain of the Hunters, or the Liaison to the United Nations International Talent Education Division after leaving his mark at his namesake, the McDonough School. Finally, he would become Director; every McDonough had followed the same path since the inception of TOXIC.

    This wasn¡¯t Donavon¡¯s life plan so much as it was his fate. Not that Donavon didn¡¯t want to do all those things, too, he just didn¡¯t really care about receiving accolades. What Donavon did care about was making his father proud. So if Mac wanted him to follow in his footsteps, Donavon would.

    The more my thoughts clouded with Donavon, the madder I got at myself. My life had come full circle. It had been just a year ago that Donavon and Erik interfered with my ability to concentrate on more important issues. I was here to do a job. Not just any job. I was supposed to find out who¡¯d leaked my identity to Ian Crane.

    Had it been about money? Was the Coalition paying for information on Operatives? Or worse, was this personal? Operatives¡¯ deaths weren¡¯t infrequent, but an Operative being targeted specifically had to be rare.

    Just as I was beginning to think that my brain couldn¡¯t process one more coherent thought, the Instructor dorm came into view. Every inch of my body was slick with sweat. I briefly wondered if it was possible for every part of your body to sweat, or if you sweat only in certain portions of your body and it just dripped to the rest of it.

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    Coming to a halt in front of the entrance, I leaned against the cool stones. I hoped that the coolness would seep into my exposed skin, but instead, I had a feeling that my body heat warmed the smooth surface. I reached for a water bottle, only to discover it was empty. I looked down. Ugh. All of my water bottles were empty. I took a deep breath.

    My head pounded so loud that it blocked out all the sounds of nature around me. My stomach was queasy and my legs shook slightly, but I was still standing upright and last night¡¯s dinner hadn¡¯t seen the sunlight that was now peeking through the trees. Considering my morning run a success, I grinned as I opened the front door to the dorm and headed up to my room for a shower.

    I arrived at the practice arena in good spirits, still pleased with myself. Since we would have a different set of students today we would be repeating the drills from yesterday. I inwardly groaned as I thought of my bruised leg, but still firmly insisted that I didn¡¯t need a suit when Donavon suggested it. Pride was definitely a sin.

    Donavon gave me a hard look in response. His light blue eyes clouded over and somehow became darker, like when a sunny, cloudless sky begins to fill with thunder clouds. I swore that I could hear his back teeth grinding together as he clenched his jaw. He turned to the class and began taking them through the movements he was about to demonstrate. I stood perfectly still beside him, feet shoulder width apart, hands clasped behind my back.

    I glanced sidelong, trying in vain to not look at the silky blond hair that fell in his eyes. It was longer than I¡¯d seen it in years, like he hadn¡¯t cut it since leaving Headquarters, and he kept pushing it back with one hand. His skin was a little tan from all the time that he spent outside; usually, the most color he had was pink tinges since he tended to burn easily. The muscles in his arms moved fluidly with each gesture he made. His hands were large and calloused from training, fingers long and slim. I watched his mouth move as he spoke, his lips looking even fuller from the side. I had seen many girls in D.C. who used lip gloss injected with insect venom in an effort to make their lips swell slightly, trying to achieve the look that Donavon had naturally.

    Donavon¡¯s dark eyelashes were so long, they brushed the hollows of his cheeks when he closed his eyes. When we were in school, Donavon and I would sneak out at night to lie on a blanket under the stars. I would lie on my back, my head on Donavon¡¯s arm. He would lie next to me, his head resting on my shoulder close enough so that his lashes would kiss my cheekbone, sending tingles through my whole body and nervous giggles out of my mouth every time he blinked. Butterfly kisses, he¡¯d called them.

    I was so lost in the memory that I didn¡¯t even realize that Donavon had stopped talking and turned to face me expectantly. My throat was dry and I nearly choked when I tried to swallow my unease.

    ¡°You okay?¡± he sent, concern warring with irritation at my daydreaming.

    ¡°Yes,¡± my mental voice snapped back at him. I was angry with myself for recalling those memories, so naturally I took it out on him. He cocked one dark-blond eyebrow, and I wondered how loud my thoughts had been projecting. Blood rushed to my face, and my pulse roared in my ears. Of course, this totally physical reaction, that I couldn¡¯t help, angered me even more.

    ¡°Let¡¯s start this,¡± I growled. I threw all of my concentration into the exercise. Granted, all I was supposed to do was stand there in a defensive stance, and not really try to deflect the blows. Still, I readied myself for the physical contact, and I didn¡¯t even feel Donavon¡¯s first kick make contact with my body. I steeled myself against his second, which I knew would land on my bruised leg, but the pain never came.

    At least, the pain never came to me. As soon as Donavon¡¯s foot hit my thigh, he doubled over holding his own leg. My eyes widened in surprise. It took me several seconds to react while his mental voice screamed expletives in my head. Closing the distance separating us, I knelt down, not sure whether I should touch him. Donavon writhed in agony.

    ¡°Get a Medical,¡± I yelled to no one in particular. The students all stared, frozen. ¡°Now,¡± I snapped. The compulsion behind my command was so strong that several kids took off at a run.

    ¡°What happened?¡± I asked shakily, my hand hovering over his shoulder.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± he replied out loud, his teeth gritted. He let out several long, hissing breaths, and squeezed his eyes shut to ward off the pain.

    We stayed like that, him lying on the ground and me kneeling beside him, for what seemed like an eternity. I wanted to touch him, soothe him, but I was scared he¡¯d reject me. When he opened his eyes, he looked murderous, and I had a bad feeling that his anger was directed at me. I recoiled, sitting back on my haunches in case he decided to release his aggression.

    Finally, a Medic arrived with Janet in tow. As soon as Janet saw me kneeling on the ground, she quickened her pace, fear shining in her eyes. When she glanced at me, she did a double take. Her eyes grew big as saucers. I followed her gaze; my gray pants were darkening to a reddish-black.

    ¡°Oh,¡± I cried out loud. As soon as I saw the blood, a loud crack resonated in my head. Oh, no, I knew what had happened. Suddenly I was the one writhing in the grass. My leg burned, flames shooting down my thigh to lick my toes. My pants clung to my skin, sticky with my blood. I was vaguely aware that Donavon had stopped panting, his breathing returning to normal. His eyes found mine, the blue irises swirling with accusations and fury. Donavon scrambled back, putting as much distance between us as he could manage with the all the people crowding the area.

    Janet motioned a Medic closer to where I lay paralyzed with fear and agony. He scooped me up in his arms and began running, cradling me to his chest. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to breathe through the pain. I wanted to deflect it or block it, but the last thing I needed was to transfer the pain¡ªI certainly didn¡¯t want the Medic to drop me.

    When we arrived at the Medical building, a team was standing by. The Medic carefully deposited me onto a stretcher waiting at the entrance. I still had my eyes shut, but I felt and heard people cutting my pants away from my thigh. I swore loudly as one peeled the sticky fabric from the wound. Terrified that the sight of my blood would send me into hysterics, I kept my eyes scrunched shut and tightly gripped the handrails of the gurney until the skin over my knuckles turned white. Don¡¯t cry, don¡¯t cry, I chanted silently. You¡¯ve been through worse.

    The stretcher came to a stop, and I felt four simultaneous pricks several inches above my knee. A heavy chemical feeling flowed through my veins, and my leg went numb.

    I chanced a peek. The same Medic who¡¯d carried me from the practice field was sopping up the blood with clean towels while another prepared sterilized pads to disinfect the area. I averted my eyes; watching the needle thread stitches through my skin was the last image that I wanted burned into my mind. Unfortunately, I still felt the pull of the fiber as he threaded the stitches to close the wound. It took every ounce of my willpower not to retch.

    ¡°Good as new,¡± he pronounced when he was done.

    ¡°Thanks,¡± I mumbled, lying back on the stiff white sheets of the gurney. His footsteps retreated from my bedside.

    ¡°How are you?¡± Janet¡¯s voice asked.

    ¡°Didn¡¯t you hear him?¡± I questioned sarcastically. ¡°Good as new.¡±

    ¡°You only needed ten stitches. Dr. Remy said there was only so much blood because of the bruise,¡± she explained. ¡°What happened? Why weren¡¯t you wearing pads?¡±

    ¡°Please don¡¯t lecture me,¡± I moaned. I felt stupid enough as it was. I had no one to blame for this except myself, my own stubborn nature.

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t going to lecture you,¡± she replied. I peered up at her through one squinted eye. She looked exasperated; she had definitely been gearing up to lecture me.

    ¡°Did you bring me some new pants?¡± I asked her.

    ¡°Yes,¡± her lips were pursed in a disapproving grimace, but she was carrying a pair of loose-fitting navy sweatpants.

    ¡°Thanks,¡± I muttered, holding out my hand to take the clothing.

    ¡°Dr. Remy says that you don¡¯t have to stay here if you don¡¯t want to, but no physical activity for the rest of the day,¡± she warned.

    ¡°Did Dr. Remy say when I can do physical activity?¡± I assumed Dr. Remy was the unknown Medic who had stitched me up.

    ¡°Preferably not for a week, but if you promise to be careful and wear a protective suit, tomorrow should be fine.¡±

    ¡°Tomorrow it is,¡± I snapped, immediately feeling bad. Janet was just trying to help, and she wasn¡¯t the person I was angry with. I was angry with myself for being stubborn.

    Janet helped me slide off the stretcher and into the sweatpants, then handed me three green pills and a small plastic cup of water.

    ¡°Prevent infection,¡± she said as she handed them to me. I nodded my understanding and cupped the pills in my palm before throwing them into my mouth.

    If I¡¯d insisted, Janet would¡¯ve let me mull over my stupidity in the solitude of my own room. Somehow, I didn¡¯t think that was a productive use of my time, and I knew that I¡¯d feel even worse if I didn¡¯t have something to distract me. So instead of heading back to my dorm room, I limped to Ms. Cleary¡¯s language class.

 Chapter Forty-Seven: The One Where She Gets Manipulative

    I arrived just as Ms. Cleary¡¯s previous class was letting out.

    ¡°Ms. Lyons!¡± she exclaimed. ¡°You¡¯re early!¡±

    ¡°Um, yeah. I had to visit Medical, so I left a little early from my last class.¡± That was mostly true. There was no way that I was explaining my refusal to wear protective padding just to prove to Donavon I was tough.

    ¡°I have plenty for you to get started on.¡± She smiled, motioning me to her desk. Inwardly, I groaned. Paperwork¡ªjust what I wanted to do. Outwardly, I matched her smile and limped pathetically to sit in her chair.

    The opportunities to engage Annalise in conversation were few and far between, so I jumped on them. Mostly, I made small talk asking about what she did in her free time and if she ever got the chance to leave campus to enjoy Baltimore or Washington. I was even so bold as to chance asking about her personal life.

    ¡°Oh, not much chance for that,¡± she laughed. ¡°My duties here at school keep me very busy.¡±

    ¡°But you don¡¯t want to date? Start a family? That¡¯s the great thing about being a teacher, right? It¡¯s easy to get married and settle down. I¡¯ve even heard that if you¡¯re married you can request to live off campus,¡± I pressed. Sure, I knew that the questions were indelicate, but after my morning, tact was not a priority. The sooner I found the spy, the sooner that I could get away from Donavon.

    ¡°Yes, that is true, dear . . . but the students here are my family. I don¡¯t need more than that,¡± she answered. Her eyes took on a faraway look and I knew that she was caught in the memory of her failed marriage. Her thoughts were sad, regretful. Annalise had truly loved her husband, and his actions had cut her deeply. But through the pain, I felt her determination to personally right the wrongs of her husband. Her inner turmoil saddened me. I couldn¡¯t imagine living with the knowledge that someone you¡¯d loved had betrayed you so severely. I wasn¡¯t positive that she wasn¡¯t a spy, but she was coming close to being a strike-through on my list of suspects.

    The rest of my school day was blessedly uneventful. I followed Cadence around, observing the students and making small suggestions on form and technique. She seemed irked at my presence, and took every opportunity to disagree with my advice. I tried to engage her in conversation several times, hoping to establish a connection so that I could delve into her mind, but she wasn¡¯t having any part of it. She answered my inquires in a short, clipped manner that suggested she¡¯d rather be clawing her own eyes out than talking to me. By the end of the period, I wanted to claw her eyes out for her.

    I ate lunch with Ernest the Brain and actually enjoyed myself. The previous day, he¡¯d been so nervous around me that he¡¯d barely been able to keep up his end of the conversation. Today, we bantered easily, and I realized that he was actually pretty funny. I felt bad that my motivations for befriending him weren¡¯t genuine. Under different circumstances, we might¡¯ve even become real friends.

    After lunch, I made small talk with Thad while his students worked on group projects. I subtly threw in questions about his life back in Edinburgh. He was wistful when he talked about Scotland, smiling at the memory of his childhood. I asked about his family, and he seemed hesitant to talk about them. From what I could glean from his mind, he wasn¡¯t hiding anything, but rather felt guilty for having left to come to school here. Thad rarely went home to visit even though he missed his birthplace. I knew the feeling; rarely a day went by that I didn¡¯t miss Capri. I hadn¡¯t been back since my parents¡¯ deaths.

    Griffin¡¯s class was one of two in which I would see the same Talents every day. Mac had asked me to keep a close eye on each of them and wanted to be kept apprised of my impressions. Almost as much as being tasked with hunting down the traitor, this made me feel like I had purpose again, and not so much like I was living in limbo.

    Griffin and I worked individually with each student as he or she threw a sampling of small weapons at a target. Most of the kids were actually very good already and needed little coaching. I didn¡¯t get a chance to speak with Griffin very much, but since he wasn¡¯t a suspect, I wasn¡¯t too bothered by the fact.

    Ursula¡¯s Telekinesis class was the other one where I would see the same Talents on a daily basis. The fifteen students in the class varied greatly in ability level. Several had extremely developed Talents while others had virtually non-existent abilities. I made a mental note to ask Penny to run profiles on all the students in the class, so that I would know what I was dealing with. Ursula concentrated her efforts on the stronger gifts, leaving me to work with those less capable. I didn¡¯t really mind. I found that I liked teaching others how to better use their powers.

    As I walked, practically dragging my throbbing leg behind me, to my room to change before dinner, I mentally compiled a list of the intel that I needed Penny to help me gather that evening. My stomach grumbled in anticipation of food, and I longed for a hot shower; the antiseptic smell of the disinfectant the Medic had used to clean the wound filled my nostrils every time I moved my leg.

    ¡°How dare you!¡± Donavon¡¯s mental voice screamed in my head just before I reached the entrance to the dorm. I stopped dead in my tracks, whipping around to face him. His cheeks were bright red with anger and his eyes were more gray than blue.

    ¡°Me?¡± I exclaimed mentally. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, did I miss something? Because last time I checked, I was the one with STITCHES in her leg!¡± I screamed back. As exhausted as I was from my eventful day, I wasn¡¯t going to take his accusations lying down. I could feel a vein in my neck straining as the blood rushed to my face.

    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    ¡°You had no right,¡± he shot back. ¡°You knew that you could transfer pain to me. You knew how easy it was with our connection being so strong!¡±

    ¡°Oh, and you think I would purposely let you kick me so hard that you broke the skin just so that I could transfer the pain to you?¡± I mentally demanded, refusing to back down.

    ¡°The way you¡¯ve been acting? I wouldn¡¯t put it past you,¡± he retorted.

    ¡°Get over yourself, Donavon. I wouldn¡¯t put myself through that pain just to hurt you.¡± He looked doubtful, indecision warring with . . . panic. Donavon was scared of me, I thought, the realization only slightly curbing my anger.

    ¡°Do you think that I manipulated you into kicking me so hard you drew blood, too?¡± He didn¡¯t answer. ¡°Oh, my God, you do.¡± I blanched. Rage consumed me. Now I wanted to hit him hard enough to make him bleed. I advanced on him so quickly that he barely had time to react. His eyes grew wide in alarm, his fear written like lines of text in his creased brow. The horrified expression that Donavon wore stopped me in my tracks. What was wrong with me? I was out of control. I needed to get my temper in check. He had every right to be scared of me; I was scared of me right now.

    ¡°FUCK YOU,¡± I screamed, a million emotions bursting out of me at once, like water from a dam. The urge to attack Donavon was so strong that if I didn¡¯t leave right then, I feared that I might not be able to suppress it. Turning on my heel and ignoring the throbbing in my leg, I took off at a dead sprint to my room. What was wrong with me? Sure, I was rightfully angry that he¡¯d accused me of something so ridiculous, but I¡¯d come within inches of assaulting him. And for what, blaming me for something that I didn¡¯t do? Even given my usual, somewhat irrational behavior, physical violence was extreme under the circumstances. I barely made it to my room before the first tears wet my cheeks.

    ***

    A quiet beeping in my ear woke me. Disoriented and confused, I opened my eyes and jumped when I found my nose inches from bright red, glowing numbers. My neck was stiff and one of my feet tingled when I moved it. I sat in the desk chair in my dorm room, a soft light illuminating the surface of the desk. Stretching my arms over my head I looked to the left, the shade on the window was up and a sliver of moonlight shone on the rough beige carpet.

    The beeping continued. ¡°Crap!¡± I exclaimed out loud when the numbers on the clock came into focus. I¡¯d slept through dinner. Shoot, I hoped that I hadn¡¯t missed my meeting, too; Mac was going to be pissed.

    When I¡¯d returned to my room after the confrontation with Donavon, I had a message on my communicator from Mac requesting my presence at a status meeting. Glancing at the communicator, I realized that it was the source of the incessant beeping. Mac must have programmed the meeting into the communicator because not only was it beeping, it was also alternating between flashing ¡°Mac¡± and the time.

    I had ten minutes to make it across campus. I was still dressed in a robe, my hair a wet rat¡¯s nest on top of my head. Grabbing the first clothes that I could get my hands on and the black jacket off the back of the desk chair, I set off at a jog across campus. My leg ached worse than earlier; falling asleep sitting at my desk hadn¡¯t done me any favors.

    The Director¡¯s Office came into view with only two minutes to spare. When I tried to turn the door handle, it wouldn¡¯t budge. Frantically, I looked around, and found a key pad staring back at me. One-by-one, I pressed my fingers, starting with my thumb, to the scanner. Two high-pitched beeps assaulted my ears, and then a glowing green light washed over my skin. I waited for the light to extinguish, and entered my ten-digit personal identification code. The lock clicked open, rewarding my efforts. The main lobby of the Administration Building was empty, so I opened my mind. A flurry of mental activity greeted me from the end of one corridor. I followed the buzzing to a door marked ¡°Conference Room # 1¡±. I had hoped that this meeting was for just me, Mac, and Janet. Apparently, I was wrong if we were using the conference room instead of Mac¡¯s office.

    Tentatively, I pushed the door open, cognizant of the fact that I was now officially late.

    Mac spared a moment to glance up from the stack of papers that he was rifling through. ¡°Nice of you to join us,¡± he said dryly.

    I smiled apologetically and scurried to take a seat. Three people sat around a large oval table with three additional chairs; one for me, one for Mac, and one for¡ª.

    ¡°Sorry I¡¯m late! I got held up.¡± The voice was so ingrained in my brain that I didn¡¯t need to turn around to know that it belonged to Donavon. Great. After our fight, I had promptly run home and sobbed in the shower until the water ran cold. Then, I had sat at my desk, and cried myself to sleep like a child. My eyes were swollen reminders of the earlier breakdown, and if I¡¯d looked in a mirror, I¡¯m sure that I would¡¯ve seen that they were red rimmed as well. Good thing I hadn¡¯t found a reflective surface on my way here.

    Without turning to look at Donavon, I squeezed into the empty chair between Janet and the Agency¡¯s Deputy Director, Mitch Rice. Mitch was older than Mac by at least ten years. He¡¯d chosen the dignified route and shaved his head when he¡¯d begun to bald. Since forsaking his Operative status, and becoming a TOXIC figurehead, he¡¯d let himself go. He was now quite rotund and jolly looking. He offered me a warm smile that I returned, grateful to have another friendly face at the table.

    To my surprise, and relief, the third person was Penny. She, too, shot me a huge grin.

    ¡°No, problem, Donavon. Take a seat so that we can get started,¡± Mac directed his son.

    Donavon scanned the group, pointedly skipping me. His face was an unreadable mask, but he was projecting his thoughts so hard that he might as well have spoken them aloud.

    The PG version? He still believed that I had coerced him into hurting me, so that I could, in turn, project the pain on to him. As if that weren¡¯t enough, after my earlier display of nonsensical rage, he thought that I was coming unhinged. His condemnation invoked my earlier feelings of shame and anger. The anger won out, and before I could think it through, I forced his gaze to meet mine. I concentrated on the noise that bees make¡ªan insistent buzzing. Slowly, as though turning the dial on a radio, I cranked the volume louder. Donavon¡¯s right eye began to twitch involuntarily and he tried to break the connection, but I was too focused. He wanted manipulation? I would show him manipulation.

    ¡°Talia!¡± The tone of Mac¡¯s voice indicated that it wasn¡¯t the first time he¡¯d said my name.

 Chapter Forty-Eight: The One with the First Spy Council

    I reluctantly severed the tie to Donavon¡¯s mind and turned to face Mac. ¡°Sorry, I¡¯m ready to start whenever you are.¡± I smiled, doing my best imitation of innocence.

    Several minds pressed on mine, but I blocked them, not needing the mental chastising to know that I was being childish.

    One did break through my walls. ¡°Jesus, Talia, act your age.¡± Trying to keep Donavon out was like trying to run between raindrops without getting wet¡ªimpossible. Yup, he definitely thought that I was losing it.

    Mac¡¯s gray eyes narrowed, but didn¡¯t comment on my silent torture of his son. Instead, he started briefing our small group on his current theories. He began by reiterating the theories that he¡¯d expressed to me several days prior; he believed that we had a spy on account of Crane knowing that I was coming and knowing my identity. Mac explained that I was likely targeted because my mission involved Crane directly, keeping his speculation that the reason was more personal to himself.

    ¡°What about the Cryptos who intercepted the original intel?¡± I interrupted, glancing sidelong at Penny. She¡¯d been one of the Cryptos who had intercepted the intel. Her face remained impassive. I almost felt bad about asking, but they would naturally be the first people I¡¯d investigate if I were him.

    Mac gave me a hard look, annoyed at my disruption. ¡°The Crypto team in question consisted of two Operatives and a Pledge. As you are well aware, Natalia, Ms. Latimore was that Pledge. She and the two Operatives have been questioned extensively by a member of our Psychic Interrogation Division. I was present during the interrogations as was Captain Alvarez. After an exhaustive investigation, we¡¯ve determined that they were not involved. That is why I have asked Ms. Latimore to help with this inquiry. Does that satisfy you, Natalia?¡±

    ¡°Just asking,¡± I muttered, appropriately abashed. He made it sound as though I was accusing him of not doing his job, but I wasn¡¯t. I was just curious, for goodness sake, trying to be thorough.

    Mac continued, effectively dismissing me. ¡°As you are all aware, we have two Crypto facilities. One is located here, and the other at Elite Headquarters. The information about Natalia¡¯s mission would have been logged into our system, and only someone extremely adept with computers would have been able to access it.¡± He paused, meeting each of our eyes in turn before continuing. ¡°Naturally, I have had Raj Anderson, Head of the Crypto Division, identify any of his personnel that accessed Natalia¡¯s file. We have come up empty-handed thus far, but we are still pursuing that avenue. In light of our lack of progress, I have decided to take more aggressive measures and launch a full investigation of every person at both locations. Operative Latimore is combing the network to determine if the data was hacked while also aiding Natalia in identifying suspicious individuals. Janet identified several Instructors here at the School that have family members that are known associates of the Coalition.¡± Mac paused to take a breath, and I jumped at the opportunity to interrupt asking another question that had been plaguing me.

    ¡°Why is Donavon here?¡± I blurted out.

    Janet coughed into her hand, but when I glanced in her direction, I saw that she was trying to suppress a snicker. Mitch shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Donavon gave me an exasperated look. Only Mac looked unfazed by my question; I think that he¡¯d been expecting it. To my surprise, Donavon was the one who answered.

    ¡°Because up until very recently, Talia, you¡¯ve been indisposed, and my father needed someone who could pose as an Instructor to keep his ears open for any rumblings that would lead us to the spy.¡± Donavon enunciated my name, his voice like a razor. The only word that I really heard in his rant was ¡°indisposed¡±.

    ¡°Indisposed?¡± I shrieked, swinging my chair around to face him for the first time since he¡¯d entered the room. ¡°I was shot, you ass. I almost died. I had to relearn to walk. Sorry that my torture inconvenienced you.¡± My temper rose with each word, like mercury in boiling water. Donavon at least had the decency to flush and shrink back slightly in his seat at the venom in my voice.

    ¡°Your personal conflicts aside,¡± Mac started to say, but I interrupted him again.

    ¡°We don¡¯t have personal conflicts,¡± I spat, my palms slapping the top of the conference table.

    Janet couldn¡¯t suppress her snort of laughter this time. Mac shot her a warning look, but Janet just shook her head as if to say, ¡°I told you so.¡±

    ¡°Fine. The reason that Donavon is here is because I knew that he wasn¡¯t the spy. Vetting another Operative to come in and play Instructor would¡¯ve taken too much time, and time is not something that I want to waste. We need to find the leak before another Operative is hurt or killed,¡± Mac said shortly. His tone had a note of finality and his eyes blazed, warning me that he had nothing further to say on the topic. I wasn¡¯t ready to let it go.

    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    ¡°What about Erik or Henri?¡± I insisted. ¡°I¡¯m sure that you¡¯ve vetted both of them since they knew about my mission?¡± I met Mac¡¯s eyes dead on, daring him to contradict me even though I regretted the words the moment they left my lips. Taunting Mac was kind of like baiting a hungry tiger¡ªnever a good idea.

    Donavon scoffed and shook his head. ¡°Really, Talia? Erik? He¡¯d just sleep with all of the students. We¡¯d never find the spy if he went undercover.¡± Donavon sneered. His words were meant to hurt me, and they did. I bit my lip, fighting the stinging in the corners of my eyes at the thought of Erik with another girl.

    ¡°Enough!¡± Mac shouted, banging his fist on the pile of papers in front of him. ¡°Natalia, yes, both Mr. Kelley and Mr. Reich have been vetted. I am confident that neither of them is the spy. While it is not any of your business why I chose Donavon, I¡¯ll tell you. He is my son, making him the Operative who would draw the least amount of suspicion here. Satisfied?¡± I flinched as Mac fixed me with his cold stare, his eyes boring holes in my head. I sat up straight and nodded my head that I was indeed satisfied with his explanation. In truth, I was. It actually made perfect sense; Mac was nothing if not logical.

    ¡°And Donavon,¡± Mac continued, training his hard gaze on his son. ¡°Stop baiting her. You two could at least act like professionals instead of petty children.¡±

    ¡°Sorry, Dad,¡± Donavon muttered, embarrassed by his father¡¯s reproach.

    If I were a bigger person, I might¡¯ve felt badly for him since, after all, I was actually the one being petty and baiting Donavon. His comment about Erik was a low blow, but it paled in comparison to some of the antics I¡¯d pulled in the last couple of days. Despite admitting the truth to myself, I wasn¡¯t the bigger person, and Mac¡¯s admonishment of his son gave me a perverse sense of satisfaction.

    ¡°Now that we are all on the same page, let¡¯s get back to what is important. Natalia, it is imperative that you keep your mind open. I want you looking into the head of every person that comes in contact with you. I want to know the minute that you feel something is strange. I don¡¯t care if you just have an inkling; I want to know. Are we clear?¡± he asked me. I swallowed hard and nodded, afraid to speak again.

    ¡°Penelope, I want you to do everything in your power to determine whether the system has been hacked. I want you and Natalia to look through every Operative¡¯s file, and if you find anything that seems off, I want to know.¡± Penny nodded, her eyes wide. She also appeared to be too afraid of Mac to speak.

    ¡°Donavon, continue to become friends with as many of the other Instructors as you can. Keep your ears open and let me know if you hear anything that needs further investigation.¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir,¡± Donavon replied quietly.

    ¡°Janet, Mitch, and I will continue to follow up on some leads. I want daily reports, and we will have weekly status meetings. I want this matter to be taken care of as quickly and quietly as possible. Are we all clear?¡± We all nodded. Then, mercifully, Mac dismissed us, not a moment too soon. The tension between me and Donavon was palpable, and the conference room had quickly become too small to hold us both.

    Donavon made a run for the door as soon as Mac dismissed us. I remained firmly planted in my chair until I was sure that he was out of the building. I didn¡¯t have the energy to go another round with him.

    ¡°You look like death warmed over,¡± Penny said, leaning towards me.

    ¡°I¡¯ve had better days,¡± I replied softly.

    She scrutinized my appearance. ¡°Do you know you¡¯re wearing two different shoes?¡± she asked, her voice edged with both amusement and concern.

    I looked down. Sure enough, I was wearing one brown leather sandal and one black. ¡°Oops,¡± I replied sheepishly. ¡°It¡¯s been that kind of day.¡±

    ¡°Come on, let¡¯s get over to the Crypto Bank. I got the file that you wanted on that Ernest kid. I also got your message about needing the profiles for the students in your Telekinesis class.¡± I¡¯d managed to send Penny a comm sometime between my shower and crying myself into exhaustion.

    ¡°Great, thanks.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t thank me yet. I haven¡¯t gotten started on those profiles, I figured we could do them together tonight.¡±

    Penny and I made our way out of the conference room with no more than a wave to Mac, Mitch, and Janet, who were so lost in conversation that they barely noticed our departure. We were halfway to the Crypto Bank when my portable communicator started beeping.

    ¡°Medical,¡± a mechanical voice said between chirps. I¡¯d forgotten. No wonder Mac had programmed it. I turned to Penny.

    ¡°Meet you there in five?¡± I said apologetically.

    ¡°Want me to come with you?¡± she asked, still looking concerned about my mental state.

    ¡°Nah, I¡¯ll be okay,¡± I answered. I really appreciated her offer, but I needed a few minutes alone to collect my thoughts; I was still reeling over Donavon¡¯s statements about Erik. I hated myself for falling into Donavon¡¯s trap. He¡¯d been trying to cause me pain, wanted to hurt me. Donavon figured that I¡¯d caused him physical pain earlier, so he would cause me emotional pain now.

    Only, I wasn¡¯t the only one of us who¡¯d been emotionally stung by his words. When Donavon had felt my reaction to his claims about Erik, he¡¯d been hurt, too. The fact that I cared enough about Erik to be so upset by the thought of him with another girl tore Donavon apart inside. No matter what he said, or how he acted, Janet and Penny were right¡ªDonavon still cared a lot about me. He knew that I¡¯d been involved with Erik before I left for Nevada, but he¡¯d assumed that it had been a rebound. He thought that I¡¯d done it to get back at him.

    Donavon hadn¡¯t realized that I¡¯d had real feelings for Erik; that I still had real feelings for him. As mad as I was at Donavon, his pain weighed heavily on my shoulders. What a mess.

    ¡°See you shortly.¡± Penny smiled before heading to the Crypto Bank alone.

    Dr. Thistler not only took my blood and gave me my medication, but provided me with more painkillers as well. I was feeling much better, and kind of high, half an hour later when I entered the sliding glass doors to Penny¡¯s home-away-from-home.

 Chapter Forty-Nine: The One Where the Suspects Start to Narrow

    The next day, I vowed to get an accurate analysis of Cadence. Once again I tried to engage her in small talk, but like my earlier attempts, she wasn¡¯t receptive. We¡¯d had enough interactions that I should¡¯ve been able to read her mind, but she was fairly adept at shielding her thoughts. When I pushed harder, I was able to break through her mental barricades, but the only thing that she was concentrating on was class. I cursed her single-mindedness.

    As was quickly becoming my daily routine, I ate lunch with Ernest. We talked and joked easily, and the more time that I spent with him, the more I liked him.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you get bored here?¡± I wanted to know. I was partially asking to get a feel for what he did in his free time, and if it included selling information to the Coalition, and partly because I was genuinely curious how a person survived sans entertainment at School.

    After sitting alone in my bedroom for months on end, I¡¯d thought that coming to the school and being around people would be exciting. For the first day it had been, but now, not so much.

    ¡°Not really,¡± he shrugged. ¡°There are plenty of people to hang out with, and sometimes, I lend a hand in the Crypto Bank analyzing data. That keeps me busy.¡± My ears perked up at the mention of his involvement with the Cryptos; he might prove to be a promising lead after all.

    ¡°You can do that?¡± I asked. ¡°Like just go in there and help out?¡± Keeping my tone only mildly interested was difficult; I was nearly bursting with curiosity.

    ¡°Well, not just anybody can.¡± His pale face colored slightly. ¡°I¡¯m an Elite-Level Higher Reasoning, and was actually offered placement with the Crypto Division, but I turned it down. Since I technically have the skill set, they let me fill in if they are shorthanded.¡± From anybody else, I¡¯d have taken this disclosure as bragging, but Ernest was almost embarrassed to admit that he was a highly ranked Talent.

    ¡°Do you fill in often?¡± I pressed.

    ¡°Oh, not often, just every few weeks or so,¡± he replied.

    I studied his mind; nothing in his brain suggested anything more than joy at getting the chance to do the work that he really loved. After leaving Penny the previous night, I¡¯d reviewed Ernest¡¯s file and found no obvious red flags, but I also didn¡¯t remember any mention of his moonlighting as a Crypto Operative. I¡¯d have to double check on that.

    That afternoon, I took advantage of Ursula¡¯s talkative nature to question her more closely.

    ¡°I forgot what it was like to be at school,¡± I began as we watched the students practice using their minds to throw knives at a target.

    ¡°You were at Elite Headquarters before this, right?¡± she responded.

    ¡°Yeah, it was so much better. I mean we were allowed to go into the city, and the rooms are so much better than the dorms here.¡± I rolled my eyes.

    ¡°I bet. But weren¡¯t you just there for your Pledge year? I thought that Pledges weren¡¯t allowed in the city?¡± I winced; apparently, her propensity for over-sharing was contagious.

    ¡°Not normally, but there are always ways to sneak off,¡± I replied conspiratorially. There, maybe if she thought that I was rebellious, she¡¯d trust me enough to confide in me.

    ¡°I¡¯ve heard that.¡± She nodded. ¡°A couple of my friends from school became Hunters.¡±

    I relaxed; she¡¯d bought my lie.

    ¡°Have you ever been to Washington? There are so many cool bars and stuff,¡± I said.

    ¡°Yeah, on the weekends I meet some friends down there, if I¡¯m not on duty.¡± She smiled mischievously. ¡°City boys are so much fun to flirt with. They get a kick out of seeing me take shots without using my hands.¡± Ursula winked; Telekinesis came with some fun perks.

    I laughed. I bet they did. That sounded like something Erik would do if he could.

    ¡°Do you travel much other than that? Like go home to see your parents or anything?¡± I decided to test the bond that we were forming and see if she¡¯d tell me the truth about her family.

    Ursula¡¯s lips pursed together in a thin line, and her body went rigid next to me. ¡°No, I rarely see my parents. They aren¡¯t supportive of my decision to join TOXIC,¡± she replied thinly.

    ¡°That sucks. Mine weren¡¯t really either,¡± I empathized. That wasn¡¯t exactly a lie; my parents hadn¡¯t encouraged the use of my abilities, but only because they just hadn¡¯t wanted me to make people uneasy. My admission seemed to calm her.

    ¡°Weren¡¯t? Are they dead?¡± she asked bluntly.

    I blanched at her harsh words. Apparently, tact wasn¡¯t in her repertoire.

    ¡°Yeah, they are,¡± I replied evenly. ¡°That¡¯s when I came to the school; after their deaths.¡±

    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    ¡°Really? So you weren¡¯t five when you came here?¡± she asked, seeming interested. Her mental guards were coming down, and I could tell that she liked the idea of bonding with someone who hadn¡¯t been a conventional student.

    ¡°Nope, I was ten, actually. You?¡±

    ¡°Thirteen. Best thing that ever happened to me.¡± She smiled fondly. She really believed that coming to the School was good fortune. Like me, she¡¯d felt normal for the first time in her life once she was surrounded by other Talents.

    ¡°Yeah, me too,¡± I agreed. At one time, I¡¯d really felt lucky that Mac had been the one to find me. Since my incident in Nevada, I wasn¡¯t so sure. Ursula was now falling lower on my short list of viable suspects.

    After Ursula¡¯s class, I set off for the dorm. My path took me past the targeting range. To my surprise, I saw a small black-haired girl surrounded by an assortment of weapons, practicing¡ªCadence.

    Standing out of her line of sight, I watched her run through a litany of simulation firing drills. Cadence was actually pretty good. Her mental focus was amazing; I could feel the concentration. Cadence was determined to persuade Captain Alvarez to let her try out for the Hunters once again. She was convinced that if she demonstrated how great her combat and weapons skills were, she would be able to make up for the fact she wasn¡¯t an Elite. If Cadence hadn¡¯t been such a heinous wench, I might¡¯ve even felt bad for her. There was no way that Cadence Choi would ever become a Hunter.

    ¡°You¡¯re really good,¡± I called when she paused to reload a handgun. Startled, she glanced in my direction. Realizing who¡¯d praised her abilities, she rolled her eyes and returned her attention to the bulls-eye. I ignored her uninviting attitude and walked closer to where she stood.

    ¡°I know,¡± she snapped. Really, would it kill her to be pleasant once in a while?

    ¡°Are you trying out for the Hunters?¡± I asked, hoping that if I brought up the subject, she might be willing to talk. She lowered the weapon and turned to face me.

    Cadence studied me for several long moments. ¡°Yes, I am,¡± she answered finally.

    ¡°Would you really want to go through another Pledge year?¡± I probed. Usually when an Operative transferred Divisions, they only went through a brief training period. But the Hunters¡¯ missions were so intense that transfers were required to complete an entire Pledge year prior to receiving a permanent placement. Suffice it to say, there were few who transferred to the Hunters.

    ¡°The Hunters are the most highly regarded Division of the Agency, it would be well worth it,¡± she answered shortly. I might not like her, but I did admire her intensity.

    ¡°Well, if you ever want a shooting partner, I¡¯m always eager for more practice,¡± I offered in what I hoped was a friendly voice. Not that I was keen on the idea of spending more than the ninety minutes a day that I already did with Cadence Choi, but maybe if we found common ground, she¡¯d open up.

    ¡°Don¡¯t hold your breath on that,¡± she muttered.

    ¡°Well, the offer¡¯s on the table,¡± I said pleasantly before turning to leave. The rapid fire of bullets hitting the target provided a soundtrack for my retreating footsteps.

    During my nightly session with Penny, I finally had a chance to review the tapes of Ursula¡¯s visits with her parents. I found nothing exceptional on the recordings. Mostly, they talked about innocuous topics like the weather and what Ursula had planned for her birthday, which had coincided with one of her trips to Affelwood. I briefly entertained the notion that they were talking in codes. If they were, I wasn¡¯t really the right person to be analyzing the tapes.

    ¡°Penny? I doubt that this will lead anywhere, but could you listen to these tapes and see if maybe they are speaking in code? Or maybe I could ask Dr. Wythe if he could observe the interactions and give me his take,¡± I mused, removing the headphones that I¡¯d been wearing to listen to the audio that accompanied the security footage.

    ¡°Yeah, I could take a look. Unless¡­¡± She let her voice trail off and nodded to where Gemma sat on her other side. I shrugged. Gemma had been given clearance to help me and Penny; I couldn¡¯t see a reason not to assign her the task.

    ¡°Hey, Gemma?¡± Penny called loudly. The older girl removed her own headset and looked at Penny expectantly. ¡°Want to help us with something?¡±

    ¡°Um, sure. If you think that would be okay, I¡¯d love to,¡± she replied, pleased at the opportunity.

    ¡°Yeah, it would be okay,¡± I confirmed, making an executive decision. Then, I explained what I wanted her to do. Gemma began scrutinizing the same footage that I¡¯d just watched. Once she was engrossed in her assignment, I decided to ask Penny about Ernest¡¯s claim that he ¡°filled in¡± when the Crypto Bank was short staffed.

    ¡°Hmmm, I wasn¡¯t aware that was a normal practice.¡± Penny narrowed her eyes in thought. ¡°We should probably say something to the Director,¡± she advised. I nodded my agreement, hoping that Ernest wasn¡¯t involved with anything treasonous.

    Over the course of the next week, I fell into a routine. Every morning, I woke before the sun and either ran or went to the gym to train with a punching bag. If I ever got the chance to plead my case to the Placement Committee, I wanted to be in tip-top shape.

    I dutifully assisted in all my assigned classes, keeping my mind open for any signs of plotting. Ernest became my regular lunch companion, and I found myself looking forward to the time that we spent together. He was easy to talk to, and despite the fact that I was supposed to be investigating him, I found his company calming and uncomplicated. For one hour every day, I was able to pretend that I really was an assistant Instructor and not a disgraced Operative with questionable health.

    My evenings were spent with Penny and Gemma, tirelessly working through electronic files for other potentially untrustworthy Operatives. The task was tedious and unproductive.

    Most nights, I didn¡¯t go to bed until well past midnight but could never seem to sleep more than a few hours. With the exception of my morning sessions with Donavon, the majority of my day consisted of delving into the minds of others, which, in turn, kept my own thoughts from obsessing over Donavon or¡ªeven worse¡ªErik. At night, alone in my room with nothing to distract me, they were the only thoughts that crossed my mind.

    As far as Erik was concerned, to call or not to call, that was the question. If I did call, would he talk to me? If he did talk to me, what would he say? What would I say? Would he tell me what I wanted to hear? What exactly did I want to hear? Did I want him to say that he was sorry about what happened between us? I already knew that he was. Did I want him to say he missed me? Would I believe him if he did? Surely, if he did miss me, he would¡¯ve called.

    With Donavon, the question was to hate, or not to hate. Sometimes, I definitely hated him. Like when he accused me of manipulating him into kicking me just so I could transfer my pain back to him¡ªwhat a convoluted theory. And he thought that I was the unstable one. Other times, I knew that I didn¡¯t hate him at all; I was just still hurt by his betrayal. Unfortunately for him, the former usually outweighed the latter.

    What. A. Mess.

 Chapter Fifty: The One Where She Loses the Fight

    The more time that I spent with the instructors, the more convinced I became that Mac was having me bark up the wrong proverbial tree. Sure, they all had some, albeit tenuous, tie to the Coalition. But honestly, with Crane¡¯s influence spreading eastward, infecting the Nation like the plague, there were a lot of Operatives with extended family in his employ. The only difference between my suspects and the other Operatives was that my suspects happened to be in close proximity to a Crypto data bank. As far as I could tell, not one of them had the wherewithal to infiltrate our encrypted records, except one¡ªErnest.

    Ernest lacked the motivation though; nothing about him suggested that he was involved with the Coalition. If he couldn¡¯t handle the stress of his previous post, then there was no way that he could handle the stress of being a double agent. His story could be a lie, but if it was, then he was a better manipulator than me.

    Annalise Cleary showed no signs of being any more adept at Electrical Manipulation than I¡¯d first observed. In fact when I¡¯d used my own Talents to persuade her to show me how hers worked, she was barely able to make the lamp on her desk flicker. No matter how deep I dug, I couldn¡¯t find any other inconsistencies in her file.

    I asked Penny about Annalise¡¯s lack of Talent, but even her overly analytical brain couldn¡¯t posit a theory. Collectively, the best that we could come up with was a mistake during her Talent ranking exams.

    I asked Mac about it, and he¡¯d just attributed her low-level ability to lack of use, but that explanation bothered me. For a Talent, using her abilities was second nature. It was just like using any other sense; it was done subconsciously. So even if Annalise hadn¡¯t been actively practicing for the past however-many years, I was willing to bet that she used it without thinking on a daily basis. Something about her was definitely off, but I doubted that ¡°something¡± was duplicitous. In general, she appeared to be on the level. She was a loyal supporter of TOXIC, and believed that the Mandatory Testing Act was a solid law.

    Cadence Choi disliked me more and more by the day; unfortunately, as Mac pointed out every time I mentioned the fact, disliking me didn¡¯t make her any more suspicious. She took advantage of every opportunity to contradict me in front of the students. Even though she wasn¡¯t always technically right, I usually let her snide remarks roll right off. Her less than friendly welcome was partially due to her jealously over my placement with the Hunters for my Pledge year, and partially over my obvious relationship with the Director. Her crush on Donavon didn¡¯t help either.

    I¡¯d dealt with her type since coming to the McDonough School and refused to let her bother me. While she was definitely jealous that I¡¯d been asked to pledge the Hunters, she also took a great deal of satisfaction in the fact that I¡¯d not been permanently assigned there after graduation. Since the official story was that I¡¯d failed my solo mission¡ªI guess that was technically true¡ªshe felt assured that I was no better than she was.

    Mac felt that it was best that no one knew what had actually happened on my assignment, so I swallowed my wounded pride and let her continue believing that I hadn¡¯t had what it takes to be a Hunter. Unfortunately, her honest belief that the official version of events was true also meant she was unlikely the spy. The person who¡¯d leaked my identity to Crane would definitely know why the Hunt had failed.

    As for Thad Wietz, he felt guilty about leaving his parents for what he thought would be ¡°a better life¡±; it consumed his every thought. The more that I pushed for details about his past, the less willingly he divulged them. I used our daily conversations to establish a strong connection, and superficially believed that he was telling the truth. However, he was fairly adept at blocking his deeper memories. Despite Mac¡¯s insistence that I be more forceful, I refrained. Thad was definitely at the top of my suspect list, but that wasn¡¯t saying much since he only landed there by default.

    Then there was Ursula. There wasn¡¯t much to say about her. She was confident in all her Talents¡ªand I do mean all of them. She constantly pranced around the Instructor dorm scantily clad, her ample cleavage on display and her curves hugged by the minute pieces of fabric that she favored. Her male admirers included any guy with a heartbeat. Of course, there was one in particular she was gunning for: Donavon.

    When we were in school, I¡¯d had to contend with a lot of schoolgirl crushes on Donavon. He was a good-looking guy and the Director¡¯s son, which made him a hot commodity. I supposed the same still held true. The number of attractive male Instructors under forty was limited, making Donavon stand out even more.

    Both Ursula and Cadence¡¯s attractions irked me. I knew that I had no right to be upset; he and I could barely be in the same room without me losing my temper. But I hated the way that they both flirted with him. Even more, I hated the way that he indulged their advances. Donavon lapped up every opportunity to engage in flirtatious conversation when I was present. His behavior made me want to kick him.

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    Gemma finished her in-depth examination of the visits with Ursula¡¯s parents and determined that they were not using codes. I decided to pursue one last avenue regarding the tapes; I submitted them to Dr. Wythe asking him to give me a report on the interactions. Mac agreed because Dr. Wythe had been my therapist since my return from Nevada, and was well versed in the events that had transpired there.

    The tension between Donavon and I grew exponentially by the day. I half-wondered if others could sense it and were just too scared to mention it, or if we were the only ones who understood how precarious our situation really was. I hadn¡¯t even told Penny about the fight, my stitches, and what Donavon had accused me of. I wasn¡¯t sure where my hesitancy to confide in her came from¡ªwas I embarrassed by my reaction to his accusations? Or maybe a small part of me worried that they were true, and if I told her, she might make me confront that uncomfortable realization.

    I had been concentrating really hard. And I had been trying to block the pain. And I had been anticipating that he would land a really hard blow. Had I been concentrating so hard that I¡¯d actually been manipulating him to do it? Had I actually been deflecting the pain instead of trying to block it? No, that was absurd. At least, that¡¯s what I told myself every time I considered it. There was no way that I¡¯d do something so ridiculous¡­or would I? Admittedly, my temper had been even more out of control than usual lately, and Donavon¡¯s mere presence fueled the flames of my rage-driven fire.

    It was one week to the day after my arrival on campus that the tension finally broke. Afterward, I couldn¡¯t recall what precipitated the altercation. One minute, I was in Donavon¡¯s class, helping students with their offensive moves. Donavon¡¯s mental voice was disagreeing with what my actual voice was telling someone, and something inside of me snapped. I don¡¯t remember what I mentally yelled at him¡ªI probably repressed the words to save myself later anguish¡ªbut whatever it was, it must¡¯ve been ugly.

    Donavon immediately dismissed class, but the students seemed to realize that something was amiss between us. Several of them stuck around, pretending they were lost in their own conversations. At first, it wouldn¡¯t have mattered whether they were listening in; the entire fight was mental, insults flying back and forth¡­until it wasn¡¯t.

    ¡°You want a fight, Talia?¡± Donavon¡¯s mental voice screamed at me. ¡°Then let¡¯s do it. Hit me.¡± Apparently, I didn¡¯t need to be asked twice. I literally flew at him. Launching myself into the air, my entire body went horizontal to the ground. He hadn¡¯t anticipated that I¡¯d take him up on his offer quite so quickly, which gave me a split second of surprise. It was all I needed.

    I hit him square in the chest, knocking him to the ground. His reflexes were fast, and he recovered quickly. Grabbing my wrists as I fell on top of him, he used his superior upper body strength to throw me over his head. I anticipated this and used his momentum, in addition to my own, to flip my feet completely over my head, landing neatly on my toes.

    Donavon was quick though, and before I could even turn around to face him, he was upright. We backed away from each other and began circling. I was positive that we had an audience, but I no longer cared.

    My peripheral vision reddened. In that moment, my only care was hurting Donavon¡ªphysically hurting him for all the emotional pain that he¡¯d caused me, making him suffer the same way that I had. I wanted him to pay.

    Usually, my biggest advantage in a fight was that my opponents underestimated me, but it was an advantage I didn¡¯t have with Donavon; he knew better. Every minute that I¡¯d spent training as an adolescent, he¡¯d been right there beside me. The only benefit that I had over Donavon was my anger, my unqualified, nearly primal urge to attack. Donavon might not have liked the way that I¡¯d been behaving lately¡ªand being a Morph, his blood tended to run hot¡ªbut he lacked the epic levels of animosity toward me that I harbored for him.

    I flew at him again. This time, I used my momentum to cartwheel through the air so that my feet were over my head when I landed beside him. My hands made contact with the ground close to his feet. Summoning all of the strength I had, I vaulted myself upwards and was rewarded for my efforts when my foot made contact with the underside of his chin, throwing him off-balance. I finished the rotation and landed on my feet, in time to see him stumble and lose his footing. I was about to press my advantage when he miraculously stabilized himself and reached out, grabbing my arm. Instead of pulling away, I used his arm for leverage and kicked off the ground. My right foot made contact with his shoulder, and my left should¡¯ve followed suit to make contact with his head.

    But I¡¯d kicked off too hard, and Donavon, realizing what I was going to do, added his own strength into my swing; when my feet were over my head, I was much farther off the ground than I¡¯d anticipated. Donavon and I were locked in the awkward embrace when it happened.

    I was completely upside down, his hands encircling my wrist as my fingers frantically clawed at his. Suddenly, I became disoriented, losing awareness of my surroundings. I was no longer in control of my now-flailing limbs. Time slowed to a standstill as gravity fought to return me to the ground. I didn¡¯t fall back to earth gracefully as I had so many times before, but rather with legs floundering in a desperate attempt to get them underneath me.

    My fingers would no longer obey my command to hold on to Donavon and my grip slackened. My body began to convulse, arms and legs twitching as the seizure racked through my entire being. I wanted to cry out, but I was no more in control of my vocal chords than the rest of my muscles. My last conscious thought was that I hoped I landed on one of my fleshier parts, like my butt.

 Chapter Fifty-One: The One Where Sorry isnt Good Enough

    ¡°I always forget how amazing it is to watch her fight.¡± Janet¡¯s voice cut through the haze clouding my brain.

    ¡°I don¡¯t even know where she learned some of those tricks,¡± Mac responded, with something that sounded like pride in his tone.

    ¡°Dr. Thistler says that the levels in her blood have dropped drastically,¡± Janet commented.

    ¡°Thank goodness for that,¡± Mac replied.

    ¡°I don¡¯t mean to say I told you so . . . but, well, I told you so,¡± Janet said sternly.

    ¡°I know there was some tension initially, but they have been fine for the better part of the week. It wasn¡¯t Donavon¡¯s fault; it was the extreme physical exertion,¡± Mac snapped.

    ¡°Fine?! Fine?!¡± Janet sounded exasperated. ¡°Were you in the same status meeting that I was? They aren¡¯t ¡®fine¡¯ Mac. She¡¯s been on edge since day one. In light of what just happened, I suggest we get another Operative in here, one with less emotional attachment to Talia.¡±

    ¡°No. Donavon stays. Natalia stays. They are both professionals. Hopefully this little episode will demonstrate just how important it is that they put the past behind them and learn to be civil,¡± Mac retorted.

    ¡°They¡¯re teenagers. You can¡¯t expect them to act like adults¡ªthey aren¡¯t adults,¡± Janet replied flatly.

    ¡°I can, and I do,¡± Mac said angrily.

    I couldn¡¯t stand to hear them talk about me like I wasn¡¯t there. I had to intervene.

    ¡°Invalid trying to sleep over here,¡± I announced loudly.

    A large hand gently covered mine. ¡°Shhh,¡± Donavon¡¯s voice said soothingly.

    I froze. Slowly, licking my extremely dry lips, I turned toward the sound of his voice.

    ¡°If you want me to leave . . . I understand,¡± his mental voice said softly. He raised my hand, still enclosed in his, and rubbed it against his stubbly cheek. My throat ached as I tried to swallow my unease. I wanted to tell him exactly where he could go . . . but something stopped me. As upset as I¡¯d been over Donavon¡¯s betrayal, I really missed his friendship. Going through the intense physical therapy alone had been agonizing. Penny was great, but she wasn¡¯t Donavon; she didn¡¯t know me like he did, she didn¡¯t comfort me the way he did. And Mac was right. I was a professional. Age-wise, I might still be a teenager, but I¡¯d been through more in my short existence than most people experienced in their entire lifetime.

    If we wanted to catch the spy, I needed to start acting like the Hunter that I¡¯d trained to be, even if I wasn¡¯t technically a Hunter anymore.

    ¡°Stay,¡± I croaked out loud, my voice hoarse. ¡°Water?¡± I added mentally. The straw hit my bottom lip, and I opened my mouth, guzzling the refreshing liquid as quickly as the straw would allow.

    ¡°Easy, easy,¡± Donavon chuckled. ¡°I don¡¯t want to be blamed for you choking to death.¡±

    ¡°Will you tell Janet and Mac to go in the hallway if they¡¯re going to talk about me?¡± I urged him.

    ¡°They are in the hallway. Down by the nurse¡¯s station, actually,¡± he replied, sounding a little uneasy. ¡°Can you hear them?¡± he added hesitantly.

    ¡°Of course I can hear them,¡± I snapped. ¡°Their voices woke me up.¡±

    Donavon didn¡¯t reply, but I could tell that he thought that I was confused. I assumed that he could make out their words, but his Morph hearing was naturally much better than mine. I wanted to tell him that I wasn¡¯t confused at all, that I could hear Janet and Mac loud and clear, but I hesitated. If they were really all the way down by the nurses¡¯ station, there was no way that I should¡¯ve been able to hear them without concentrating. Superior hearing was not among my many Talents. I had better-than-average senses, due to the sensory-deprivation training that I¡¯d done, but they were nothing compared to a Morph. If Janet and Mac were really that far away, how on earth could I hear their conversation?

    For some reason, that thought took a tangent and brought up the day that I¡¯d been admiring Donavon¡¯s eyelashes in class. He¡¯d been a solid ten feet away. Sure, if I focused all of my mental energy to the task, I might have been able to hone in on his eyelashes, but I hadn¡¯t been doing that. How had I picked up on the detail from so far away?

    I must not have been keeping my thoughts private; no sooner had I begun to ponder his lashes, I felt them softly brush my cheekbone. As his face leaned closer to mine, I inhaled his familiar scent¡ªsoap and clean linens. Tingles traveled down my whole body, and goose bumps sprang up on my arms and legs. My head felt heavy, and I was glad that I was lying down; surely my legs would give out if I tried to stand.

    Donavon¡¯s mouth rested right next to my ear, and my body tensed at the proximity to his. What was happening? I didn¡¯t want to feel like this. His breath tickled my ear as he whispered out loud, ¡°butterfly kisses.¡±

    My heart was pounding so loudly that I could hear each accelerated ¡°thump.¡± Forgetting all my earlier anger, I nuzzled my face against Donavon¡¯s. His mental voice hummed softly in my head. It was a melody that I knew well, the words that accompanied it long forgotten. I smiled, feeling truly at ease for the first time in months as I fell back to sleep listening to Donavon¡¯s comforting song.

    When I woke up next, Dr. Thistler was the one holding my hand. I looked at her and groaned. ¡°Am I dying?¡± I asked dryly. I definitely felt like I was.

    ¡°No, despite your best efforts Natalia, you will live to fight another day,¡± she replied, irritation and disapproval flickering in her gray eyes. I had a bad feeling that I was in store for a lecture.

    ¡°Give it to me straight, Doc. I can handle it,¡± I replied, trying to sit up.

    ¡°Easy, Natalia,¡± she replied, adjusting the pillows behind my back to better support me. ¡°It was a little bumpy at first. The adrenaline elevated the levels of the compound in your blood, but I increased the dosage of the equalizer. It took a couple of days, but you are stable now.¡± She smiled, pleased with her work.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been out for several days?!¡± I exclaimed, not caring about her efforts to stabilize me. I¡¯d be pleased when her efforts actually cured me.

    ¡°I felt that it was best to heavily sedate you while I stabilized the compound in your blood. It was necessary to prevent further seizures.¡±

    ¡°Great. Did it work?¡± I snapped. The liberties that she¡¯d taken with my consciousness irked me; she was treating me like some experimental lab rat.

    ¡°It did, actually,¡± she replied, smiling and seemingly oblivious to my ungrateful attitude.

    ¡°Where¡¯s Donavon?¡± I demanded. After spending the last week avoiding him, I craved his presence now.

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    ¡°Mr. McDonough is teaching, but Headmistress Evans is waiting outside to see you once I finish checking your vitals,¡± Dr. Thistler answered pointedly.

    ¡°If you could hurry, that would be super,¡± I snapped. She shook her head and rolled her eyes, showing me just how much she appreciated my impatience. She quickly finished her appraisal of all my vitals, then opened the door to allow Janet to come in.

    I waited for Dr. Thistler to leave before I interrogated Janet.

    ¡°What exactly happened?¡±

    Janet studied me through narrowed green eyes assessing whether I was prepared for this conversation. She apparently decided that I was. ¡°Several students saw the altercation between you and Donavon,¡± she explained. ¡°Fearing the worst, I called Mac.¡±

    I sighed. ¡°So, you were there when . . . I had the seizure?¡± I asked quietly, staring at the machine that monitored my heart rate like it was the most fascinating contraption in the world. The beeps came more quickly as color raced to my cheeks. Up until now, the only people to witness my seizures were Mac, Gretchen, and the Medics who treated me. The episodes were embarrassing and painful, and I hated for others to see me so vulnerable. I was supposed to be strong¡ªa fighter, a Hunter.

    Janet cleared her throat loudly, ignoring my anxiety. ¡°Yes, Mac and I arrived shortly after it started,¡± she said gently. ¡°Donavon realized that something was wrong as soon as you started to convulse. He caught you before you hit the ground.¡±

    Thank goodness for that. He probably saved me a broken bone or two.

    ¡°The trembling didn¡¯t subside,¡± she continued shakily. ¡°When we finally got you to Medical, Dr. Thistler gave you the equalizer immediately, but it didn¡¯t work. She had to give you a sedative.¡±

    ¡°How long?¡± I asked, keeping my eyes trained on the red spikes that blipped across the monitor screen.

    ¡°How long?¡± Janet repeated, sounding confused.

    I turned to meet her gaze. ¡°Yeah, how long before the seizure stopped?¡± I asked.

    ¡°An hour,¡± she whispered.

    An hour? That was the longest yet; my condition was deteriorating. I blinked furiously, trying to hold back tears.

    ¡°You were agitated and kept screaming in your sleep. Mac was so worried that he refused to leave your bedside,¡± Janet pressed on.

    ¡°What did I say?¡± I grimaced, worried that my night terrors might have been a little too telling.

    ¡°Nothing coherent,¡± she assured me, ¡°mostly just screaming.¡±

    ¡°I see. Is that why Dr. Thistler kept me comatose?¡± I asked quietly.

    ¡°Even after she sedated you, she couldn¡¯t quiet the nightmares. It wasn¡¯t until Donavon started sneaking into your room that you finally calmed down.¡± Janet watched me carefully for my reaction.

    ¡°Donavon? Really?¡± I arched an eyebrow in surprise. The more that I thought about it, the more her statement made sense. Donavon¡¯s presence had always calmed me, eased my tension. The familiarity between us made me feel safe and secure.

    ¡°Natalia, do you want me to have you replaced?¡± she asked bluntly. ¡°Because I will. Mac is against the idea, but I¡¯m honestly not sure that you¡¯re ready for this.¡±

    I stared at her while carefully measuring my next words. She didn¡¯t know that I¡¯d heard her conversation with Mac, and I didn¡¯t want her to know that I¡¯d unwittingly eavesdropped. ¡°No, Janet, I¡¯m ready for this. I want to do this. Donavon and I are adults. We¡¯re professionals who can put our issues aside¡ªthis assignment is too important.¡±

    My words did nothing to dispel her concerns, but she didn¡¯t argue further. She knew me well enough to understand that once I put my mind to something, there was no changing it.

    Just then, Mac stuck his head through the doorway of my room. ¡°Finally,¡± he said, by way of greeting.

    ¡°Sorry to have inconvenienced you,¡± I replied sarcastically. ¡°I¡¯m feeling great, thanks for asking.¡±

    ¡°You are awake, Natalia. Therefore, you must be feeling better,¡± he replied absently. He apparently wasn¡¯t overly concerned as long as I wasn¡¯t dying.

    ¡°Did you come down here just to see my smiling face?¡± I asked. Mac¡¯s indifference to my physical health annoyed me. I had to remind myself that Mac went out of his way over the past few months to aid my recovery. Still, the building animosity that I¡¯d been experiencing since the previous year didn¡¯t soften my irritation now.

    ¡°No. I need you to get dressed and come with me, now,¡± he answered. He wasn¡¯t wasting any time. My displeasure grew, but I was itching to get out of Medical. After the extensive rehabilitation and current daily visits, I was none too keen to stay here any longer than absolutely necessary.

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to tell me twice. Where are my clothes?¡± I asked brightly.

    ¡°Wait just a minute,¡± Janet interrupted, ¡°she has suffered a traumatic event, Mac.¡±

    ¡°Dr. Thistler said that her vitals are fine, and I need her to interrogate a suspect,¡± Mac snapped, baring razor-sharp canines. Janet and I both flinched at his open display of aggression. Like his son, Mac was a poly-morph, but he rarely displayed his Talent anymore.

    ¡°What are you talking about? Who?¡± I demanded, recovering once Mac¡¯s lips safely concealed his teeth again.

    ¡°I had Penny dig deeper into Ernest Tate. Just as you thought, not everything adds up,¡± Mac responded, now composed and in control of his emotions.

    ¡°Hold on. I never said that I thought things didn¡¯t add up. I just thought that maybe we should look into his background.¡± I was suddenly on the defensive. Ernest had been nothing but nice to me. Sure, he was one of the few people that I¡¯d encountered at School who was actually capable of hacking into our network, but that alone didn¡¯t make him a traitor. I honestly didn¡¯t believe him capable of such deception.

    ¡°And that is exactly what I had Ms. Latimore do. She looked into his past¡ªhe has family in California. After monitoring his parents¡¯ communicators, we¡¯ve determined that his father is still in contact with them. Now I need you to do what you do best and find out where Ernest¡¯s loyalties lie,¡± Mac replied.

    My stomach sank. I genuinely liked Ernest, even considered us friends. I really hoped that he wasn¡¯t a Coalition spy.

    Sensing my trepidation, Mac spoke softly. ¡°Sometimes, the people closest to us are the best at deceiving us.¡± He gave me a pointed look. ¡°You, of all people, should know that.¡±

    Suddenly, I loathed Mac. Just when I¡¯d resolved to try moving past Donavon¡¯s infidelity, Mac threw it in my face. Donavon had been the person closest to me until he betrayed me.

    Janet shifted uncomfortably as she took in my distraught reaction to Mac¡¯s hurtful words. ¡°Can this not wait?¡± she asked him in a low voice.

    ¡°No. It cannot,¡± Mac replied shortly, refusing to even look at her, his gray eyes fixed on mine.

    ¡°Janet, would you mind running to my room and getting me something to wear?¡± I asked, determined not to be the first to break the silent battle of wills between myself and Mac. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her nod her agreement. After giving Mac an if-looks-could-kill stare, she walked noiselessly from the room.

    Mac held my gaze, his stare so intense that if I¡¯d known what was good for me, I would¡¯ve backed down. After all, he had the advantage; he loomed over my hospital bed where I lay, still shaken from Janet¡¯s account of my seizure. Sensing my resistance, Mac moved closer, a low rumble starting in his chest that was meant to intimidate me.

    ¡°Why is this so urgent?¡± I demanded, still refusing to give in, even though the weight of his mind bore down on me.

    ¡°Natalia, we have a SPY in the Agency,¡± he spat back, eyes flashing angrily and menacingly.

    ¡°I understand that, but what did Penny find that makes you so confident that he is our spy? I¡¯ve talked to him, and he is a truthful person. I bet there are plenty of Agency Operatives with family members in the Coalition,¡± I said, gritting my teeth.

    ¡°Exactly, you have talked to him. You have not dug into his mind to see what he is hiding.¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t know that he¡¯s hiding anything!¡± I yelled.

    ¡°No, you are right, we don¡¯t. But we also don¡¯t know that he is not,¡± Mac replied pointedly. ¡°I did some further checking into Ernest¡¯s claim that he ¡®filled in¡¯ for sick Operatives in the Crypto Division. That apparently has happened on several occasions over the past year, but an appointment like that needs to be cleared by me, and it was not. I¡¯ve suspended the Crypto Supervisor here at School, pending an investigation.¡±

    His words cooled the blood boiling in my veins; that was exactly what I¡¯d been afraid of. When Ernest confided that piece of information to me, I¡¯d known it was a serious breach of protocol. I¡¯d hoped that it would prove to be miscommunication somewhere in the chain of command or that Mac would confirm that he¡¯d sanctioned the temporary placement. Apparently, that was not the case.

    ¡°Do you plan on having me interrogate everyone that could possibly be the spy?¡± I demanded, feeling the fight go out of me. Mac was right. Ernest¡¯s actions were suspect.

    ¡°Natalia, you have found nothing!¡± he shouted at me, his cool demeanor cracking like ice on a frozen lake. ¡°I am not going to wait around for another situation like what happened in Nevada! I will not see another Operative brought back from a mission at death¡¯s door! I will not lose more Talents to the Coalition. I want this person found and I want him found now.¡±

    Shame filled me at the passion in his words. He wasn¡¯t uncaring. He had been there when the Medics brought me off the plane in Kansas. Mac had seen me broken and nearly ruined. Mac had painstakingly helped me to recover, both mentally and physically, from what Ian Crane and his men had done to me. Mac was the one pushing Medical to find a cure for my condition. All he wanted in return was the same thing that I should want¡ªto find the person who¡¯d nearly cost me my life.

    ¡°Mac, I¡¯m sorry,¡± I began, biting back the tears that burned behind my eyeballs.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want sorry, I want answers, Natalia.¡± His voice was just above a whisper, and deadly serious as he leaned his face close to mine. I think that I preferred him yelling.

 Chapter Fifty-Two: The One with the Psychic Interrogation

    Janet returned soon after with a pair of jeans and soft cream-colored sweater. Thankful to shed the gray medical tunic, I dressed quickly while Janet and Mac spoke in loud whispers in the hallway.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think that you should be pushing her so hard,¡± Janet whispered angrily.

    ¡°I don¡¯t remember asking your opinion,¡± Mac snapped.

    ¡°Are you not the slightest bit concerned about her condition?¡± Janet¡¯s voice raised an octave, her words laced with venom.

    ¡°You know what I am concerned with, Janet? I am concerned about the traitor¡ªthe spy¡ªthat we have in our Agency.¡± I could almost hear Mac¡¯s teeth grinding together with the effort of keeping his voice to an audible whisper. ¡°Natalia is the best chance that I have of finding that person. But don¡¯t you think for a second that I don¡¯t care about her well-being. I brought her into my home, I raised her, and you, of all people, know the lengths that I would go to protect her. So don¡¯t you dare accuse me of not caring. She is every bit as much a daughter to me as Donavon is a son.¡± Mac was furious. Tension rolled through the closed door. The air was thick with the vibrations emanating off both of them.

    I loudly opened the door to my room and stepped out into the hallway. Both Janet and Mac turned quickly. ¡°I¡¯m ready,¡± I said quietly, effectively putting an end to their bickering.

    Mac, Janet, and I set off across the campus. Neither of them looked at the other nor uttered a single word. Both were lost in their own angry thoughts.

    Our destination was a small nondescript building on the very outskirts of the compound. I¡¯d never actually been inside the building, but had wandered past it on many occasions. Truthfully, I hadn¡¯t been exactly sure what purpose the structure served¡ªapparently interrogations.

    My head was still fuzzy from all the drugs that Dr. Thistler had used to sedate me. My body ached with every step I took, making me regret my eagerness to jump out of bed. Janet was right; I wasn¡¯t ready for this.

    A dimly-lit guard booth materialized in the dark night. I could make out three individuals¡ªtwo standing outside, and one inside. Penny¡¯s flaming red hair was starkly illuminated by the light from the guard booth. Donavon stood next to her, anxiously shifting from one foot to the other, eyes intently studying the blades of grass beneath.

    ¡°Hi, there,¡± I mentally called to him. His head shot up and our eyes met across the great distance. He turned and said something to Penny, who turned and looked in our direction. Donavon began closing the gap between us.

    ¡°I¡¯m glad that you¡¯re here,¡± I sent. Donavon smiled, and I felt relief flood through him. He¡¯d been worried that I¡¯d rethought my earlier feelings of camaraderie. I hadn¡¯t. I really had missed him, and I was resigned to making the best of our current situation. After all, it wasn¡¯t Donavon¡¯s fault that he¡¯d been sprung on me.

    ¡°Tal!¡± he exclaimed, wrapping me in his arms. ¡°Are you sure that you¡¯re up for this?¡±

    I glanced at Mac; the hard set of his jaw and coldness of his eyes told me that I¡¯d better be.

    ¡°Of course,¡± I lied. No, I wasn¡¯t ready for this, but it needed to be done. If nothing else, my interrogation would prove Ernest¡¯s innocence. Granted, that would not put me any closer to identifying the actual culprit, but at least I could rest assured that another person I counted among my friends hadn¡¯t deceived me.

    The four of us made our way to the guard station where Penny waited.

    ¡°How did you know that it was us standing here? You had to be like a hundred yards away!¡± she exclaimed, hugging me.

    ¡°Penny, I think the people manning the satellites can spot your hair from space,¡± I replied, only half-joking. My point was valid; Penny¡¯s bright red-orange locks were like a lighthouse beckoning to ships in the night.

    ¡°Ha ha.¡± She rolled her eyes.

    ¡°Natalia has work to do. So if social hour is over, we should really get this over with,¡± Mac interjected. I nodded in response to him, then glanced conspiratorially at Penny and Donavon. Mac was being a little dramatic. Janet kept shooting him dirty looks when he was sure to notice. It felt good to have somebody like her in my corner.

    The four of us followed Mac to the front of the building. There was another guard stationed inside, who exchanged a nod with Mac as we passed. We followed Mac to an elevator bank, then waited in silence for the ping that signaled the elevator¡¯s arrival. The doors slid soundlessly open, and we filed in. Mac pressed his thumb to a scanner on the front-right panel of the elevator, and a green light flashed, confirming his identity. He entered a two-digit number on the touch pad and the car sped downward.

    The elevator gave another soft ping, indicating our arrival on the designated floor.

    The hallway was cool and impersonal, with dreary, gray walls. I shuddered, hugging myself as we followed Mac to a door marked 5B. Inside was a waiting room with a long rectangular table, sitting underneath a one-way mirror. On the table sat several monitors, each displaying a different set of data, and three plastic chairs sat in front of it, facing the mirror. On the other side of the glass was Ernest.

    ¡°Let¡¯s get this over with,¡± Mac said to me. I nodded and took a deep breath. Janet gave me a tight-lipped smile and nodded encouragingly. Exhaling slowly, I opened the door to the adjoining room.

    Ernest was staring nervously at his hands folded in his lap, but looked up when I entered. His hazels eyes darted nervously between me and his reflection. The air was thick with the stench of body odor and anxiety. I fought the urge to wrinkle my nose in disgust.

    ¡°Talia?¡± he said uncertainly. ¡°What¡¯s going? Why am I here?¡±

    ¡°I just want to ask you some questions,¡± I said soothingly.

    His eyes darted left, right, up, and down. ¡°Did you have to drag me here just to ask me a couple of questions?¡± He laughed nervously as he wiped sweaty palms on his shirt, leaving damp handprints in their wake.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. This is just a formality.¡± I tried to keep my voice light. The smell of his sweat, sweet and pungent, consumed the small room. Forcing back the bile rising in my throat, I focused on his face. Beads of moisture glistened just below his hairline. I didn¡¯t need the monitors on the other side of the mirror to tell me that his heart was beating much more quickly than normal; I could hear the soft thump-thump with my own ears.

    Slowly, I moved to sit across from Ernest. I began with the easy questions: name, place of birth, parents. I read the answers as they popped into his head. Every answer that he spoke aloud matched the one that I read from his mind. Finding my rhythm, I moved on to more personal questions¡ªthose that Donavon¡¯s mental voice fed me from the other side of the glass. I asked questions about his family in California, and his father¡¯s reputed communications with them. I delved into his own personal relationship with his extended relatives.

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    Hours passed as I dissected every detail of Ernest¡¯s life. Finally, when my mental and physical exhaustion peaked, I turned to the mirror and spoke aloud.

    ¡°It¡¯s not him, Mac.¡±

    Donavon¡¯s mental voice answered me. ¡°Search deeper,¡± it responded.

    I glared at the mirror and thought unspeakable words in Mac¡¯s direction.

    ¡°We need to be sure, Natalia,¡± Mac¡¯s mental voice responded. Scowling, I turned back to face Ernest.

    ¡°Give me your hands, Ernest,¡± I commanded in a low voice. He obeyed without hesitation. ¡°Look into my eyes,¡± I ordered. He raised his hazel eyes, the pupils so dilated that they appeared black, and reflected a distorted image of my face. Locking our gazes, I concentrated as hard as I could, and opened my mind to Ernest¡¯s. Wading through his most recent memories of teaching here at the school, I saw nothing of use. I systematically moved backwards, pulling every memory and experience that Ernest had ever had from his mind. I felt the last vestiges of Ernest¡¯s willpower leave him, and every thought that he¡¯d ever had crashed over me in a tidal wave of memories.

    No longer able to distinguish where my mind ended and Ernest¡¯s began, I started shaking and gulping air. It was quickly becoming hard to breathe. I truly felt as if I was drowning in Ernest¡¯s mind.

    ¡°Natalia,¡± a sharp voice snapped in my head. ¡°Natalia, pull back!¡± the voice¡ªDonavon¡¯s¡ªscreamed. But it was so far away, sounding like a distant echo in a long hallway, and I couldn¡¯t pull back. I was in too deep.

    ¡°Tal, listen to my voice. Pull back,¡± Donavon frantically ordered. I tried to concentrate on his words, but it was next to impossible with Ernest¡¯s memories swirling like a funnel cloud inside of my mind. The interrogation room ceased to exist. I was floating, becoming part of Ernest as I pulled more and more of his life into me.

    ¡°Tal, please. Follow the sound of my voice. You need to come back to me,¡± Donavon urged. The intensity of his words, coupled with the strength of his will, brought me back to reality. I was still entrenched in Ernest¡¯s thoughts, but it was becoming easier to separate our minds.

    Summoning all of my willpower, I yanked my hands from Ernest, who was now clinging to me with a death grip. I ripped my eyes away, and felt the imaginary rope that had connected us snap. Severing the bond hurt. I collapsed against the chair, feeling disoriented and shaking. I took deep breaths, and tried to calm the trembling in my hands. Donavon burst through the door, but stayed several feet back, scared to come any closer.

    ¡°Talia,¡± he said tentatively. I turned to look up at him; his face was blurry, and I blinked several times in an attempt to sharpen the image. All of my senses felt dull and sluggish, like I¡¯d just woken from a dream. He quickly knelt down beside my chair, taking my hands in his.

    ¡°Are you okay? What happened?¡± he asked.

    I shook my head, my tongue felt thick and too big for my mouth. ¡°Can I leave now?¡± I asked him mentally. The need to get out of the room consumed me. I couldn¡¯t breathe, couldn¡¯t think. Dizziness filled my head as bile made its way up my throat. I needed fresh air, now.

    ¡°Aloud,¡± he answered. I looked at him, confused. ¡°You need to speak out loud right now. I don¡¯t think that you should be communicating mentally¡ªyou¡¯re too vulnerable.¡±

    I looked back across the table at Ernest. His head was slumped against his chest and he was drooling. The scene cut through my haze like a knife piercing my heart.

    ¡°Is he going to be okay?¡± I whispered, close to tears.

    ¡°Get her out of here.¡± Mac¡¯s voice came from the doorway before Donavon could answer.

    Behind Mac stood two Medics, and all three entered the tiny room. The Medics each took one of Ernest¡¯s arms, lifting him out of his seat and into a waiting wheelchair. I stared blankly after the trio.

    ¡°Get her out of here,¡± Mac repeated.

    ¡°Still think that this was such a good idea?¡± Donavon demanded, rounding on his father.

    ¡°She will be fine. She just needs to rest,¡± Mac replied shortly.

    ¡°What about Ernest? Will he be okay?¡± I asked, looking up at Mac.

    ¡°In time,¡± Mac answered without meeting my eyes.

    Donavon rose to his full height and faced his father. Their eyes locked in a silent battle of wills, eerily similar to the one that had transpired between myself and Mac just hours before. Neither spoke, both men standing rigid, electricity crackling in the air around their bodies. Donavon¡¯s hands were tightly fisted at his sides and a low growl sounded in his chest.

    ¡°Take Natalia back to her room,¡± Mac ordered his son, his words holding so much authority that I flinched. Donavon sagged under the weight of his father¡¯s command as he backed down. He never could stand up to his father, not that I blamed him. Mac was not the kind of person that most dared to challenge. Even Janet stood silently in the corner of the crowded room, too intimidated to make so much as a peep.

    Donavon gently pulled me to my feet. He wrapped one of his long arms around my shoulders and silently led me from the suffocating interrogation room. Penny quickly fell in step with us as we made our way to the elevator. She looked as tired and drained as I felt. Her eyes were bloodshot, and dark circles colored the hollows beneath.

    No one spoke as we made our way back up the elevator and out into the night. I let them lead me back across campus to my room. My mind was so numb that I barely registered my surroundings, and was surprised to find the three of us standing in my bedroom sooner rather than later.

    ¡°Why don¡¯t I take it from here?¡± Penny said quietly to Donavon. He looked at me questioningly. I managed to nod my head, indicating that he should go.

    ¡°You should sleep in. The first people won¡¯t be arriving until lunchtime,¡± he replied.

    ¡°Huh?¡± People? Lunchtime? What was he talking about?

    ¡°Career fair starts tomorrow,¡± Penny said tiredly, sensing my confusion.

    ¡°Right. Career fair,¡± I mumbled. My medically-induced hibernation period had thrown my sense of time out of whack.

    ¡°I have to help set up in the morning, but I¡¯ll come check on you afterward,¡± Donavon said as he bent down to place a gentle kiss on the top of my head. Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around him, craving the physical comfort of his familiar body against mine. An overwhelming urge to hold him tighter consumed me, making me hesitate before I pulled back and said goodnight.

    Once he was gone, Penny set about finding my pajamas and helping me get ready for bed. I changed and climbed under the covers. Every muscle in my body relaxed as I lay on the now familiar mattress. Penny pulled the chair from my desk over and sat next to my bed.

    ¡°Want to talk about what happened?¡± she asked quietly. Her green eyes were so full of concern that my frozen insides began to thaw.

    ¡°Not really,¡± I mumbled. Reliving what had just happened with Ernest so soon might send me over the edge of sanity, on which I was currently teetering. My hands were still shaking slightly. The view from the other side of the glass must have been pretty horrific too because I noticed that, in addition to the bloodshot eyes and dark circles, Penny was also extremely pale. Her hands twitched uneasily in her lap.

    ¡°Want to talk about Erik?¡± she countered mischievously.

    ¡°Erik?¡± I asked, startled. ¡°What does he have to do with anything?¡± I¡¯d thought about Erik constantly over the past couple of months, but besides initial inquiries into his well-being, I hadn¡¯t talked to Penny about him.

    ¡°Both Erik and Henri will be here tomorrow for the career fair,¡± she replied. ¡°Erik didn''t message you?¡±

    ¡°No, he didn''t,¡± I said wistfully, glancing at my silent communicator. Erik¡¯s purposeful refusal to call me stung. If nothing else, wasn¡¯t he wondering if I¡¯d read his letter? Oh, God, Erik¡¯s letter. His words had fueled my animosity towards Mac during my recovery, yet I still wasn¡¯t sure that I truly believed him. Not that I thought Erik was lying. I just thought that maybe Erik had misunderstood the encounter. Or maybe I just hoped that was the case.

    ¡°Wait, did he call you?¡± I asked accusingly. The miserable look on Penny¡¯s face told me that he had. ¡°What did he say?¡± I demanded.

    ¡°Erik didn¡¯t call me, Harris did,¡± she clarified. I sighed with relief and instantly felt bad for jumping down her throat. ¡°We talk every so often, and he just mentioned that Erik was one of the Operatives chosen to represent the Hunters at the fair.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I see,¡± I replied in a small voice. ¡°So, do you think he might want to see me?¡± Tears pricked the backs of my eyes as I waited for Penny to give me some sort of confirmation, to reassure me that Erik would want to see me.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure the does,¡± Penny said softly, wrapping her arms around me. Despite the fact that she¡¯d told me exactly what I wanted to hear, I couldn¡¯t hold back the tears any longer. The full emotional impact of the day finally hit me, and I sobbed against Penny¡¯s shoulder. She rubbed my back soothingly. ¡°I know he¡¯ll be happy to see you tomorrow,¡± she promised.

    ¡°I don¡¯t even know why I¡¯m crying.¡± I laughed shakily as I pulled back from Penny¡¯s embrace.

    ¡°You¡¯ve had a really long day. It¡¯s a lot for anyone to handle. Why don¡¯t you get some sleep? We can talk about stuff tomorrow,¡± Penny offered.

    ¡°Do you mind staying until I fall asleep?¡± I sniffed. Part of me wanted to be alone, but part of me feared that, left to my own devices, I might start weeping again.

    ¡°Of course, not, I¡¯ll be right here,¡± Penny replied kindly as she settled back into my less-than-comfortable desk chair. Her voice was strained and tired, and I knew that I should insist she go back to her own room; watching such an intense interrogation hadn¡¯t been easy on her. But I needed her, needed her strength, and I was too selfish to tell her to go rest. Tomorrow, I was sure that I¡¯d hate myself for being so weak and self-centered, but not tonight.

 Chapter Fifty-Three: The One Where the Mimic Returns

    Taking Donavon¡¯s suggestion, I slept late the next morning. For someone who¡¯d slept for the better part of the past five days, I sure was exhausted. My head throbbed, and thinking of the upcoming day¡¯s events did nothing to alleviate my misery: career fair.

    Every year representatives from the major divisions of TOXIC came to campus and set up booths shortly before the students chose which Placement Exams to take. The event afforded them the opportunity to speak with representatives, decide what career path they wanted to pursue, and, subsequently, which tests they would sit for. Each student would be allowed to select up to three Divisions for which he or she could attempt placement. The students were encouraged to sign up for demonstrations and get one-on-one advice and assistance from Operatives currently working in the sector they wished to join.

    When I was still a student, I¡¯d loved the career fair. I¡¯d loved getting out of classes and seeing the Operatives¡¯ demonstrations. In retrospect, it all seemed rather pointless since, in most cases, students¡¯ Talents and Rankings dictated their placement. Many students hoping for coveted positions began training as young as twelve, the age when students were allowed to start taking electives.

    TOXIC identified strong physical Talents early, and began training them in combat to develop the necessary skills to become a Hunter. Students with strong Higher Reasoning Talents, like Penny, were often pulled from physical training to focus solely on honing and refining their computer skills. Ordinarily, higher-level mental Talents like me were marked for psychic interrogation and took specialized investigative techniques classes. Mac had insisted that I take several interrogation classes, but had fully encouraged my pursuit of the physical ones as well. He¡¯d never doubted that I would become a Hunter, at least not back then.

    Today, I couldn¡¯t muster any of my usual enthusiasm for Career Day. What was I going to say to Erik if¡ªno, when¡ªI saw him? He hadn¡¯t even sent me a heads-up that he was going to be here. Admittedly, I hadn¡¯t called him either. Every time I punched his contact information into my communicator, something stopped me. I wasn¡¯t ready to speak with him, let alone face him.

    With Donavon, I walked the thin line that separated love and hate. With Erik, I walked the line that separated extreme embarrassment and whatever its opposite was. Part of me was thrilled at the prospect of seeing Erik later today, but part of me wanted to crawl back under my covers and stay there until he left. And still another part of me felt awful for feeling any reaction at all. I had no idea what was going on with me and Donavon, but I somehow doubted that I should be in such emotional turmoil over another guy. It was like being back at the beginning of my Pledge year when I¡¯d first developed feelings for Erik that rivaled¡ªand eventually surpassed¡ªmy feelings for Donavon.

    A sharp knock at my door brought me out of my tortured reminiscing. I debated staying quiet and seeing if my visitor would leave. Instead, I opened my mind to determine if the person on the other side was someone that I knew; Donavon had promised he¡¯d visit me this morning. When I opened my mind, a mental voice, loud and clear, demanded to be let in: Erik.

    ¡°Tals, I know you¡¯re in there. I can feel you,¡± Erik called. ¡°Open the door or I will break it down.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m still in bed,¡± I sent.

    ¡°Don¡¯t care,¡± he shot back.

    ¡°I haven¡¯t brushed my teeth yet.¡± I tried another tactic. I could imagine him rolling his beautiful turquoise eyes.

    ¡°Tal, I¡¯ve been around you plenty of mornings,¡± he answered, sounding more than a little impatient. He had a point; we¡¯d shared a cabin for months while I was a Pledge, not to mention several sleepovers the week before I¡¯d left for my solo mission.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to see you,¡± I insisted. Even as I sent the words, I knew that they weren¡¯t really true. Now that he was here, standing outside my door, I really wanted to see him, wanted to tell him about everything that had happened since the embarrassing encounter in my bedroom at Headquarters. But his rejection was still fresh in my mind. I¡¯d thrown myself at him, offered him something personal and intimate, and he¡¯d refused me.

    ¡°I kind of figured you felt that way, but I don¡¯t care if you want to see me. I want to see you,¡± he replied.

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you call me then?¡± I demanded. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me that you were coming if you wanted to see me so badly?¡±

    ¡°Please, Tals. Let me in, so we can talk,¡± he urged.

    I let out a frustrated noise that Erik must¡¯ve taken for acquiescence because I heard the lock click and the door swinging open. The bed sagged under his weight as Erik perched on the edge. He ripped the covers off of my head, and I was left staring at two sparking turquoise gems. The sunlight streaming through the small window next to my bed lit up his dark hair as he nervously ran his long fingers through the heavy strands that hung low over his forehead. Thin lines creased the corners of the tan skin around his mouth. His mouth. I wanted to touch the soft pink bottom lip that he was biting down on.

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    ¡°Hey,¡± he said softly, anxiety clouding his normally carefree expression.

    ¡°Hey,¡± I mumbled back. He stared into my eyes, and I felt a hundred unspoken messages pass between us. Finally, after what seemed like forever, he broke eye contact.

    ¡°I brought you breakfast,¡± he said, tentatively holding up a bag. I sat up and grabbed the bag out of his hand, then peered inside.

    ¡°Chocolate muffins. My favorite,¡± I said grudgingly.

    ¡°Peace offering,¡± he answered sheepishly. ¡°Now scoot over so I can get comfy while we eat.¡± I hesitated for a heartbeat before obligingly scooting toward the wall to make room. Erik kicked his flip flops off and crawled in next to me. I handed him one of the muffins, and we munched in companionable silence.

    ¡°So, are you going to tell me why haven¡¯t called me in nearly a year?¡± I asked, licking the chocolate crumbs off my fingers.

    ¡°You could¡¯ve called me,¡± he replied gently. ¡°Last time I checked, your communicator makes outgoing calls.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not an answer,¡± I shot back, refusing to turn and look at him. Now that we were done eating, I was acutely aware of his leg pressed against mine.

    Erik heaved a huge sigh. ¡°I really wanted to,¡± he began, brushing his fingertips over the back of my hand. I didn¡¯t pull away, but I didn¡¯t encourage him either. Erik swallowed thickly before continuing. ¡°At first, I wasn¡¯t allowed to. Captain Alvarez refused to even tell us where you were. All he would say is that you were recovering and couldn¡¯t be disturbed.¡± Erik paused, seeming to weigh his next words carefully.

    ¡°And then?¡± I prompted, trying to ignore the feel of his skin against mine. I wanted to be angry with him, but his touch made it hard.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know exactly. I figured that if you wanted to talk to me . . . well, you¡¯d call.¡± He shifted uneasily and threw his muffin wrapper in the metal wastebasket next to my desk. ¡°I mean, Tal, I gave you that letter¡­¡± Erik¡¯s voice trailed off. He moved his hand from mine and clasped it with the other one resting in his lap.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know what to say,¡± I whispered. ¡°Mac wouldn¡¯t let me talk to anyone, really, until last week. When he finally let me out of my bedroom to do something other than physical therapy or blood testing¡ª¡±

    ¡°Blood testing?¡± he cut me off, his body tensing and alarm radiating from his pores.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± I answered. ¡°I was injected with¡­something in Nevada, and whatever the chemical is has been causing seizures.¡± I chanced a look at Erik out of the corner of my eye. His eyes had grown wide, and his arm twitched like he was going to wrap it around me but thought better of it.

    ¡°What chemical? Doesn¡¯t Medical have a cure or antidote or whatever?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Medical doesn¡¯t know what the chemical is. And they can¡¯t scrub it out of my blood,¡± I replied, shuddering at the thought of the foreign drug infecting my body. Just minutes ago, I¡¯d desperately wanted to tell Erik all about the seizures, but his reaction made me regret my decision. Waves of anger rolled from his mind, and he ground his back teeth together in an effort to retain his composure.

    ¡°What are they doing about it?¡± he asked slowly, again measuring his words.

    ¡°Dr. Thistler, this high-ranking Medical woman, gives me daily injections. They¡¯re supposed to, like, neutralize the compound or something.¡±

    ¡°And does that work?¡± his tense body language belied his neutral tone.

    ¡°For the most part. When I get overly stimulated, though, I sometimes still have seizures,¡± I mumbled.

    Erik reached for me, wrapping his strong arms around my waist, and lifting me into his lap. I rested my head against his chest, and he kissed the crown of my hair. The accelerated beating of his heart thudding against my ear indicated how unnerved my admission had made him.

    ¡°I¡¯ve missed you so much,¡± he mumbled, moving his mouth close to my ear.

    Warmth spread from where his lips rested in my hair, all the way down to my toes. I wrapped my arms around his body, running my fingers over the planes of his back and feeling the strength of his muscles through his t-shirt. Snuggling closer still, I tightened my grip on him before replying. ¡°I¡¯ve missed you, too.¡±

    Being with Erik had always been thrilling, intoxicating, and it was now, too, except now I also felt safe. For the first time in months, my world wasn¡¯t crashing in on me. The anger and frustration that constantly bubbled under the surface even quieted. The feeling of instability lessened.

    Neither of us spoke again for a long time. There was so much that I wanted¡ªno, needed¡ªto tell him, but I didn¡¯t want to lose the physical closeness, so I stayed silent. I could tell that he wanted to ask me more, but the news about my medical condition had bothered him and he settled for rubbing my back instead.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got to go help set up for the demonstrations,¡± he said regretfully, much too soon for my liking. He gently extracted himself from my embrace, and I shifted to face him head-on for the first time since he¡¯d arrived.

    ¡°Will I see you later?¡± I whispered, chewing my lower lip nervously. He cupped my face with both his hands, gently stroking my cheeks with his thumbs.

    ¡°Of course. We still have a lot to talk about,¡± he promised. I closed my eyes as he softly brushed his lips across my forehead. Electricity crackled through me, like it did every time his skin made contact with mine. I wanted to beg him to stay; instead, I climbed off his lap and watched him go, in silence.

    Long after Erik left, I sat in my bed, mulling over the way that I felt when I was with him. I recited the words of his note. I thought about Donavon, and how he¡¯d sat with me in Medical for days even after I¡¯d been so horrible to him. I still felt that he deserved a little of my anger, but maybe I could be the bigger person and get past what he¡¯d done to me.

    Finally, when I couldn¡¯t stand to be alone with my own confused thoughts, I showered and pulled on a pair of navy pants and a white cable knit sweater. I left my hair to air-dry, knowing that it was only a matter of time before it was a mass of loose curls. When I looked in the mirror, a pale, drawn face stared back. My purple eyes, normally vibrant and intense, appeared dull and lifeless, the hollows underneath dark and haunted.

    I grabbed a bottle of concealer and smeared liberal amounts over my skin. The makeup erased the death pallor but couldn¡¯t rid my eyes of the ghost of Ernest¡¯s interrogation. His memories still lingered in my mind; every time I closed my eyes, I saw his vacant expression and hated myself a little more.

 Chapter Fifty-Four: The One Where She Realizes Shes the Monster

    Deciding that looking human was the best I could do for my appearance, I set off for the Arena. When it came into view, I saw that the entire inside of the stadium had been transformed. Booths had been set up and demonstrations were already taking place. Surveying the scene, my eyes landed on two guys sparring¡ªErik and Henri. I smiled wistfully. I loved watching them fight, but it made me a little sad, too. I should be out there, I should be with them. Instead, I was here, chasing an apparition and praying that I didn¡¯t drop to the ground, convulsing at any moment.

    I wanted to say hi to Henri, but there would be time for that later. He was busy now, so instead, I sought out Penny. I found her sitting at a booth with several portable computers. She had a small group of students clustered around her table, and she was explaining the role that Cryptos played in the Agency, in the broadest terms possible. She glanced up, and smiled when she saw me approaching. I waited patiently for her to finish her spiel.

    ¡°Hey, there.¡± She beamed once the students had dispersed. ¡°How are you feeling this afternoon?¡±

    ¡°Pretty good,¡± I replied truthfully. Physically, at least, I felt better than I had in days. Emotionally, I felt raw and unstable after Erik¡¯s impromptu visit. When we¡¯d actually been together, I¡¯d been able to forget my predicament and what I¡¯d done to Ernest. As soon as he¡¯d left, the cruel reality that I now lived in had returned.

    ¡°Good.¡± She smiled. ¡°Want to take a seat and help me out?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I barely understand what you do,¡± I teased.

    ¡°You can just sit here and do what you do best.¡± She paused. ¡°Stare at people all creepy-like so that I don¡¯t have to keep explaining things to kids who don¡¯t understand and don¡¯t care.¡± I rolled my eyes, but Penny did have a point. My penetrating purple eyes tended to make others uncomfortable, not to mention the power that Mac said radiated off of me. Those were among the many reasons my friends were few and far between.

    ¡°I can do that,¡± I replied, pulling out the chair next to Penny and taking a seat.

    Over the next several hours, despite my best efforts, quite a few students stopped by to listen to her presentation. Sitting there with Penny, I felt normal for the first time since Nevada. Talking about boys and gossiping about Instructors and the other Operatives we¡¯d both known from when we were in school, I felt like myself.

    ¡°Hey ladies,¡± Donavon called as he approached our table. I gave him a genuine smile. Seeing Erik had brought on a whole host of emotions I wasn¡¯t ready to deal with, but I liked the point that Donavon and I had reached, and I wasn¡¯t ready to let it go. To my surprise, he bent over and planted a kiss on my cheek and¡ªeven more shockingly¡ªI found my smile growing larger.

    ¡°Captain Alvarez is hosting a dinner tonight and it¡¯s my privilege to extend an invitation to both of you.¡±

    Captain Alvarez was the leader of the Hunters, and usually accompanied his Operatives to the Career Fair.

    ¡°He¡¯s here? Have you seen him?¡± I asked.

    ¡°He is, over at the booth with the Hunters,¡± Donavan answered.

    I turned to Penny. ¡°If you can manage on your own, I think I¡¯ll go say hi.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure I¡¯ll get by,¡± she replied dryly.

    ¡°Come and get ready for dinner with me?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Will do.¡± Penny¡¯s eyes sparkled at the prospect of dressing up for a formal occasion. I could practically see the cogs in her brain working double-time as she debated how to accessorize me for the night¡¯s festivities.

    I stood and began making my way through the crowd, towards an area where a large group had congregated to watch the current exhibition. Donavon fell in step beside me.

    ¡°Why was Erik in your room this morning?¡± he demanded. I gave him a sharp look.

    ¡°How did you know that he was in my room this morning?¡±  I retorted.

    ¡°You just told me,¡± he shot back, outraged.

    ¡°What!?!¡± I was in no mood for games.

    ¡°I was on my way to see you this morning when I saw him leaving the Instructor housing,¡± he explained.

    ¡°And you just assumed that meant he was with me?¡± I snapped, my own temper flaring. Erik had been there with me, but I didn¡¯t appreciate Donavon¡¯s accusatory tone. I was so angry that I reached out, and retrieved the memory from Donavon¡¯s mind, and watched it from his perspective.

    Donavon opened the front door to Instructor housing to see Erik bounding down the stairs.

    ¡°McDonough, good to see you,¡± Erik said, extending his hand in a seemingly inviting gesture. Donavon stared down at his hand, but refused to take it.

    ¡°I would¡¯ve thought that you¡¯d be in better accommodations than us lowly Instructors,¡± Donavon replied, eyeing him suspiciously.

    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m actually staying in guest housing.¡± Erik laughed easily. ¡°I just wanted to stop by and see a friend.¡±

    ¡°Were you with Talia?¡± Donavon asked bluntly.

    Erik appeared non-phased, his turquoise eyes twinkling mischievously. He gave Donavon a wide, white-toothed grin. ¡°Gentleman never tells, man,¡± he said, his tone suggestive.

    ¡°Talia, stay out of my head,¡± Donavon chastised me, bringing me back to the present.

    ¡°Look, Donavon, Erik was in my room this morning. We ate breakfast. That was it,¡± I replied defensively, unsure why I felt the need to justify my actions to him. Obviously, I also left out the part where I¡¯d climbed into Erik¡¯s lap and let him hold me. Or the part where I¡¯d been so reluctant to let him leave that I¡¯d contemplated begging him to stay.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think that you should be entertaining guys in your room,¡± Donavon replied flatly.

    ¡°And I don¡¯t think that¡¯s any of your business,¡± I snapped aloud. Picking up my pace, I left Donavon behind, and staring after me. I wasn¡¯t stupid. I knew why he was upset. At one time, I would¡¯ve been desperate for just this type of reaction out of him. Now, instead of feeling special, I just felt annoyed. He had no right to be upset about Erik. Donavon and I were barely friends again, let alone anything more. Yet, even as my anger propelled me farther away from him, I recalled all of the nice things that he¡¯d done for me over the last couple of days.

    I finally arrived at the Hunter¡¯s booth. I joined the crowd and watched as two well-muscled guys circled each other. One was extremely tall and lean with light brown hair and warm brown eyes. The other was shorter and more defined, his nearly-black hair held back from his face with a navy bandana, his turquoise eyes shining with excitement. Both were dressed in loose pants and fitted sleeveless shirts.

    Glancing around, I realized that over half of the gathered crowd was female. I couldn¡¯t say that I blamed them; Erik and Henri were both beautiful, and when they¡¯re in action, they were mesmerizing. Surprisingly, Cadence was one of the females in attendance. Sidling up next to her, I attempted conversation.

    ¡°They¡¯re really amazing to watch, aren¡¯t they?¡± I said to her. Cadence spared me a glance out of the corner of her beady eye.

    ¡°I suppose so,¡± she admitted grudgingly, like it pained her to agree with me.

    ¡°Those two are my teammates,¡± I replied proudly.

    ¡°Used to be, you mean,¡± she retorted.

    ¡°Excuse me?¡± I said, taken aback by her open hostility.

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    ¡°They used to be your teammates. Since you failed your solo mission, you aren¡¯t a Hunter, and they aren¡¯t your teammates,¡± she said slowly, enunciating each word.

    Witch, I wanted to scream. She was a horrible, horrible wench. It took every ounce of my self-control to not punch her. Fuming, I turned my attention back to the boys.

    The two guys circled each other, making small jabs and kicks as the crowd cheered. Henri¡¯s arm span was so vast that he had a terrific advantage over Erik, but Erik was extremely agile. Henri caught Erik in the shoulder with a hard kick, causing Erik to stumble slightly. Without missing a beat, he jumped straight up, both feet leaving the ground, tucked his knees up into his chest, and struck out. Both of his feet made contact with Henri¡¯s chest, which Erik used to push off of and flipped his feet over his head. He landed neatly on the balls of his feet.

    Henri fell over backwards, catching himself on his hands before hitting the ground. In one fluid motion, he pushed off and flew back at Erik, feet first. He landed in a crouch and swept his leg out in a wide arc, attempting to trip Erik, who did a standing flip to avoid his leg.

    ¡°It almost looks like a dance they choreographed, huh?¡± a voice said in my ear. I let out a startled yelp.

    ¡°Hello, Captain.¡± I smiled, looking up into the dark features of Captain Alvarez.

    ¡°It¡¯s great to see you, Lyons,¡± he said sincerely. ¡°How are you feeling?¡± His dark brown eyes were narrowed in concern.

    ¡°Pretty good, actually,¡± I replied.

    ¡°We have the top Medicals working on an antidote,¡± he promised.

    ¡°I know,¡± I muttered, looking at the ground.

    ¡°We¡¯ll get you back out there before you know it. Besides, those two need you.¡± He gestured to where Erik and Henri were now flying through the air to the delighted oohs and ahhs of the crowd.

    Glancing at Cadence and seeing her annoyance at Captain Alvarez paying attention to me gave me way more satisfaction than it should have.

    ¡°Thanks. I really want that, too.¡± As I said it, I realized for the first time that I wasn¡¯t entirely sure that I did. I had desperately missed the Hunt throughout my long recovery, but for some reason I now felt reluctance at the prospect of rejoining the Hunters.

    ¡°Will I see you at the dinner this evening?¡± he asked hopefully.

    ¡°Of course. I¡¯m looking forward to it,¡± I answered honestly.

    Captain Alvarez smiled, giving my shoulder a comforting squeeze, then walked back to where Erik and Henri were still sparring. I watched as Captain Alvarez called the session to an end, and the crowd responded with a chorus of ¡°boo¡¯s¡±. He announced that if anyone wanted to see more and get a chance to go one-on-one with a Hunter, they should sign up for the small group demonstrations that would take place over the next two days.

    ¡°You were invited to the dinner?¡± Cadence asked, outraged.

    ¡°Of course, I was,¡± I retorted angrily. I¡¯d had more of her attitude than I could take in one day.

    ¡°Why?¡± she demanded. ¡°I wasn¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°I guess you¡¯ll have to ask Captain Alvarez since he¡¯s the one who invited me. Or you can ask Mac since he¡¯s been taking me to this dinner since I was eleven,¡± I shot back. I immediately regretted losing my temper. I was supposed to be gaining this girl¡¯s confidence instead of purposely baiting her. It was no wonder that she hated me. Without so much as a reply, Cadence stalked off.

    Feeling suddenly exhausted, I, too, turned to leave¡ªthe day¡¯s events had worn me out. I made it several feet before two sets of slick, sweaty arms encircled me. Erik and Henri were both beaming.

    ¡°You guys smell.¡± I wrinkled my nose.

    ¡°Every girl here is wishing that she were you right now.¡± Erik laughed. He was right; many of the girls who¡¯d congregated for the show were now glaring at me jealously.

    ¡°Only because they don¡¯t know you two like I do,¡± I groaned.

    ¡°Haven¡¯t you missed us even a little?¡± Henri asked, sticking his lower lip out in a mock pout.

    ¡°Maybe this much.¡± I held up my thumb and forefinger, indicating a space that only an ant could fit through. Smiling, I hugged Henri again, his sweaty shirt damp against my face. The truth was I¡¯d missed them both more than I could ever express.

    ¡°If you two will excuse me, I need to shower again before dinner.¡± I rolled my eyes and pretended to wipe their sweat off my face. Giving them a small wave, I turned to go. Erik grabbed my wrist.

    ¡°Can I walk you back to your room?¡± he asked, his voice light.

    ¡°I have to go to Medical first,¡± I responded.

    ¡°Okay. Can I walk you to Medical and then back to your room?¡±

    I looked at him for a long minute before finally nodding. After Donavon¡¯s earlier outrage, I didn¡¯t want to rock the boat, but he wasn¡¯t my boyfriend and had no right to be upset.

    We walked for several minutes in silence.

    ¡°Please don¡¯t provoke Donavon,¡± I finally said, trying to fill the awkward silence.

    ¡°Provoke? Me?¡± Erik feigned a look of shocked innocence. I rolled my eyes.

    ¡°Why are you dating him again?¡± he demanded. When my eyes met his, I saw more hurt than anger in the turquoise depths.

    ¡°We aren¡¯t dating,¡± I said quickly.

    Erik raised his eyebrows, but didn¡¯t comment. Silence fell between us, yet I felt surprisingly at ease; Erik¡¯s demeanor had changed at my reassurance that Donavon and I weren¡¯t a couple. All of the awkwardness dissipated, and I felt comfortable. For a brief minute, it was just like we were back at the Elite Headquarters and Nevada had never happened.

    The Medical building came into view and the reality of my situation came rushing back: the shots, the seizures, the spy. The stability that I¡¯d finally established after my parents¡¯ deaths was gone. My desire for revenge against the man who¡¯d ordered my parents¡¯ deaths wasn¡¯t the driving force it used to be. I still believed that Ian Crane had something to do with their murders; I just wasn¡¯t sure that it was all so black and white anymore.

    ¡°Why so serious?¡± Erik¡¯s mental voice filled my head, interrupting my thoughts.

    ¡°I just want everything to go back to the way it was,¡± I sent back.

    ¡°We¡¯re going to get this all worked out.¡± He reached over and squeezed my hand affectionately, holding it for just a second longer than necessary as we entered the big sterile building that was Medical.

    ¡°Want me to come back with you?¡± he asked. I stared at him a minute, wondering if he was serious. He was.

    ¡°No, thanks. I¡¯m a big girl and I¡¯ve gotten pretty used to the shots.¡± I smiled, touched by his offer. Erik nodded and took a seat in one of the white plastic chairs across from where the receptionist sat behind a huge white and chrome desk.

    ¡°Natalia, Dr. Thistler is expecting you. You can come on back,¡± the receptionist said, giving me a small smile. I nodded and made my way to the swinging doors that led into the heart of the facility.

    ¡°Back in a second,¡± I told Erik without turning around to look at him. I caught the receptionist sneaking glances in his direction as I disappeared through the doors.

    I found the designated room, and it wasn¡¯t long before Dr. Thistler appeared. She quickly worked through the familiar routine of checking my vitals and taking a vial of my own blood, then injecting me with the equalizing agent. As she worked, she asked me the same series of questions that she always did: ¡°How was I feeling? Did anything out of the ordinary happen today? What had I eaten? How was I sleeping?¡± My answers were basically the same as they¡¯d been every day for the past nine months.

    ¡°All set, Natalia. I will see you tomorrow,¡± she declared once she¡¯d finished making notes on her ever present electronic pad.

    ¡°Dr. Thistler?¡± I asked, hesitating for a moment before continuing. ¡°How¡¯s Ernest?¡± I was as eager for her answer as I was to experience another seizure.

    Now it was Dr. Thistler¡¯s turn to pause. Her gray eyes studied me carefully before she finally answered. ¡°He is responsive,¡± she said slowly, measuring her words.

    ¡°Responsive?¡± I repeated.

    ¡°Yes, he is aware of his surroundings.¡± She averted her eyes back down to her electronic tablet.

    ¡°Oh, I see,¡± I said quietly.

    ¡°I am sure that, in time, he will be good as new.¡± She smiled brightly, daring to tear her eyes away from the screen in the crook of her arm to meet mine.

    ¡°Does he know who he is?¡± I blurted out. She shook her head sadly. It was exactly what I¡¯d feared.

    ¡°Natalia, this is always a risk with psychic interrogation. The Director never authorizes such an extreme step unless he feels it¡¯s necessary,¡± she replied sternly.

    Necessary? I thought incredulously. It hadn¡¯t been necessary. I should¡¯ve tried harder to convince Mac that Ernest wasn¡¯t capable of such treachery. I shouldn¡¯t have pushed Ernest so hard in my interrogation. His current situation was my fault. Even the calming effects of the equalizing drug couldn¡¯t suppress my rising panic.

    ¡°Can I see him?¡± I asked.

    ¡°No, darling, I don¡¯t think that is a good idea,¡± she replied gently.

    Quickly, I swiped her mind. She feared how Ernest would react if he saw me; she worried that he might go into fits since I was the one who¡¯d actually performed the interrogation.

    What had I done? I was a monster. Gretchen had once told me that this was a possibility, but I¡¯d never before invaded another mind so completely that I¡¯d ever been in jeopardy of eradicating all the memories and thoughts.

    Swallowing over the lump that had formed in my throat, I slid off the edge of the hospital bed and left.

    Erik walked me back to my room, thankfully having the good grace not to ask me what was wrong. I couldn¡¯t stop thinking about Ernest. I felt responsible for what had happened. Worse, I was responsible for what happened. If only I hadn¡¯t pushed him so hard. I should have put my foot down and told Mac that I¡¯d done all I could. After all, I¡¯d known that he was telling the truth. There was no need for me to have gone so deep. What if he never recovered? What if his memories were no longer in there? What if I had ruined the rest of his life?

    ¡°Is my company really that bad?¡± Erik asked, giving me a slight nudge in the ribs with his elbow.

    ¡°Huh?¡± I asked, his question putting an end to my mental chastising.

    ¡°You look like you¡¯re about to cry. Women don¡¯t usually react to me like that,¡± he joked. I rewarded his attempt at humor with a half-smile.

    ¡°Just have a lot on my mind,¡± I mumbled.

    ¡°I¡¯m here if you need to talk,¡± he replied, his tone turning serious.

    We came to a stop in front of Instructor housing. Erik clasped both of my hands in his and squeezed gently. I stared at the ground, avoiding his imploring gaze.

    ¡°Thanks. I¡¯ll see you at dinner,¡± I muttered, snatching my hands away and turning to leave. Erik reached for me again, his fingers trailed across the inside of my wrist before dropping to his side. A hot flush crept up my neck and burned my cheeks. I paused, my hand halfway to the door handle. I wanted to turn around, wanted to fall into his arms and tell him about Ernest. I wanted him to stroke my hair, to tell me that everything would be all right. Instead, I finished extending my arm and firmly gripped the cold metal of the door handle. Pulling with way more force than was necessary, I yanked the door open and entered without turning back. I¡¯d leaned on Erik too much in the past¡ªI wouldn¡¯t let myself fall back into the habit now.

 Chapter Fifty-Five: The One with Too Many Escorts

    When I reached my room, there was a huge package lying on my bed. On top of the box sat a plain white envelope with my name scrawled across the front in familiar handwriting. Smiling, I tore open the envelope and found a single sheet of thick white stationery with the TOXIC logo emblazoned across the top, and several lines of script below.

    Natalia, Danbury told me that you would be attending Captain Alvarez¡¯s dinner this evening. I took the liberty of selecting one of your gowns and having it cleaned, pressed, and taken in. I look forward to seeing you tonight. Love, Gretchen.

    Opening the box, I found a dark red gown made of raw silk. It had long, sheer sleeves that kind of belled at the wrists. The dress was designed to rest on the edge of my shoulders with deep V¡¯s cut in the front and the back, exposing a great deal more skin than I normally showed. The waist was cinched and would likely emphasize my drastic weight loss. The skirt of the dress hung all the way down to the tops of my feet. Gretchen had also thought to include a black velvet jacket, perfectly tailored for my small body, to wear over the dress in case the night air was chilly.

    Gretchen loved having clothes made for me, and I never minded. It meant that I didn¡¯t have to bother with doing my own shopping. Still, sometimes I felt more like a china doll than a person. I made a mental note to thank Gretchen when I saw her later.

    I carefully removed the gown and jacket from the box and hung them on the back of the bathroom door. There was no way either, let alone both, would fit in the closet. The mental and physical exhaustion from earlier returned, so I laid down on my bed, and closed my eyes to take a quick nap.

    An insistent pounding woke me after what seemed like mere minutes.

    ¡°Go away,¡± I called groggily.

    ¡°Talia, are you sleeping?¡± Penny¡¯s impatient voice was muffled by the door.

    Opening my tired eyes just enough to see the clock next to my bed, I instantly registered the lack of sunlight streaming through the window.

    ¡°Crap. What time is it?¡± I said more to myself than to Penny. ¡°Come on in,¡± I called to Penny, mentally disengaging the door lock.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you check your communicator?¡± she demanded. ¡°I¡¯ve been messaging you for the last hour.¡±

    ¡°Sleepy,¡± I replied, burying my face in the pillow.

    ¡°We barely have enough time for you to get dressed!¡± she exclaimed.

    Grumbling, I turned to face her and rubbed my eyes trying to clear away the sleep.

    ¡°You look pretty,¡± I commented with a grin.

    Penny¡¯s wild red-orange hair was twisted into a knot at the nape of her neck. She wore a simple long black dress, a matching black shawl resting on her slim shoulders.

    ¡°And you look awful,¡± she teased.

    ¡°Thanks,¡± I said sarcastically.

    ¡°Did something happen?¡± she asked suspiciously, her eyes growing wide with worry as she took in my disheveled appearance.

    I climbed out of bed and made my way to the bathroom to splash water on my face, debating whether to tell Penny about Ernest. I considered how much better I¡¯d felt after telling Penny about what happened in Nevada, and decided in favor of filling her in on my trip to Medical.

    ¡°Do you think I¡¯m a monster?¡± I asked once I¡¯d explained about Ernest¡¯s condition.

    ¡°Of course not, Tal!¡± she assured me. ¡°It¡¯s not your fault.¡±

    ¡°Not my fault? How could it not be my fault? I kept pushing and pushing. I went too deep into his mind. I should¡¯ve known better.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± she said emphatically. ¡°You were following the Director¡¯s orders.¡±

    ¡°He didn¡¯t mean for me to turn Ernest¡¯s mind to mush. He just wanted me to find out the truth,¡± I insisted, quick to defend Mac even though I also felt that he deserved some of the blame.

    ¡°By pushing you past the point of exhaustion and forcing you to delve so far into Ernest¡¯s mind that you broke his will?¡± she demanded, an uncharacteristic fire igniting behind her lime eyes.

    ¡°Mac had no way of knowing how close Ernest was to breaking. Only I knew, and I still pushed. I pushed him over the edge.¡± My voice cracked when I thought about the way that Ernest had looked after the interrogation. I slumped down in my desk chair, and Penny knelt down in front of me to look me square in the eyes.

    ¡°It¡¯s not your fault, Natalia,¡± she said firmly in a low voice. ¡°Let me hear you say it.¡±

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    ¡°It wasn¡¯t my fault,¡± I repeated numbly. For a second, looking at Penny¡¯s earnest face, I almost believed the words were true.

    ¡°Now get ready. We¡¯re already late.¡± She smiled, her tone switching back to bubbly.

    There was no time to shower and straighten my hair, so I threaded a gold headband through the front of my curls to hold them back from my face. I applied a bare minimum of makeup ¨C just enough to cover the dark circles beneath my eyes and to give my cheeks a rosy tint, so that I didn¡¯t looking like the walking dead. Penny helped zip me into the dark red dress before I shrugged on the velvet jacket.

    Just as I was giving my appearance a last once over, there was a knock at the door. Penny rushed to answer it, so that I wouldn¡¯t be distracted. Donavon stood in the hallway. He looked amazing in a perfectly tailored black suit complete with black shirt and black silk tie. He¡¯d clearly put in extra effort, making his hair shiny and silky, falling neatly to his shoulders.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry about earlier,¡± he apologized as he stepped into the room.

    ¡°No need to be sorry,¡± I replied with a smile. I didn¡¯t have the energy to fight with Donavon tonight.

    ¡°I thought that you ladies might like an escort,¡± he said aloud.

    ¡°Thank you.¡± I really was glad that he¡¯d come.

    That is until Erik appeared in the doorway a second later. He, too, was wearing an immaculately tailored suit, but had opted for black pants and a white jacket instead with a white shirt and white bow tie. The white set off the tan of his skin. I had to restrain myself from hugging either boy. Worse, I didn¡¯t know who I wanted to go to more.

    ¡°Guess I should have called,¡± Erik said lightly.

    Donavon visibly tensed at the sound of Erik¡¯s voice. Penny looked uncomfortably from one boy to the other, chewing on her thumbnail. Inwardly, I groaned. This was already shaping up to be an awesome night.

    ¡°No, it¡¯s fine. The four of us can go together,¡± I replied, giving Erik a hard look. His self-satisfied expression, and smug thoughts, let me know that he¡¯d anticipated Donavon¡¯s presence. Erik knew that showing up in my bedroom again would piss off Donavon. From the look on Donavon¡¯s face, Erik¡¯s plan had worked; to say that Donavon was less-than-thrilled to see him would¡¯ve been an understatement.

    Our awkward foursome walked to the Headmistress''s building. Penny and Erik chatted easily about mutual acquaintances back at Elite headquarters. I trailed several paces behind, trying to ignore Donavon''s thoughts, centering mostly on his dislike for Erik. When we finally reached the entrance to the banquet hall, I let out a sigh of relief. The sooner I could get away from the stifling tension between the two boys, the better.

    Most people were already there, thanks to my extended nap. The room was decorated in a truly magnificent fashion. A huge rectangular table sat in the middle of the room. The tablecloth was made of thick gold fabric and embroidered with an intricate floral design. The place settings appeared to be bone china, slightly off-white and rimmed in real gold. All the silverware was actually gold-ware; real gold, if I had to guess. Huge red floral arrangements decorated the center of the table with red and gold candles intermixed. The candles were emitting a smell that could only be described as fall¡ªcinnamon and pumpkin spice. Carving stations with huge hunks of every type of meat I could imagine¡ªand some that I¡¯d never seen¡ªlined one wall.

    Waiters stood, attired in pressed black pants and crisp white shirts, ready to carve tender pieces of meat for the guests. The opposite wall was lined with large, brightly colored fruit: apples so red that they appeared painted, grapes larger than my thumb, watermelon with bright pink flesh in stark contrast to the black seeds, all emitting a mild sweet smell that mixed pleasantly with the candles.

    The back wall had been turned into an ice bar, where more waiters stood ready to wow attendees with their mixology skills. I grabbed Penny''s arm harder than I intended to, evidenced by her audible gasp, and steered her in that direction.

    ¡°Penny and I are going to get drinks," I called over my shoulder to Donavon and Erik, dragging a protesting Penny behind me. Thankfully, neither boy followed.

    ¡°What can I get for you ladies?" a smiling bartender with orange eyes and messily styled blond hair asked as we approached.

    ¡°Something strong,¡± I replied shortly. Penny gave me a worried look.

    ¡°Just some wine for me,¡± she told the bartender without looking at him. ¡°Are you okay?¡± she asked me.

    ¡°Fine,¡± I snapped.

    Penny flinched at my harsh tone. I pinched the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger and took several deep, calming breaths.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine, Penny,¡± I promised in a much softer voice. Penny relaxed and gave me a weak smile.

    ¡°We¡¯re going to have a good time tonight,¡± she assured me, placing one hand on my arm.

    The boy who¡¯d taken our order juggled bottles filled with brightly colored liquors around his back and over his shoulders, adding only a splash from each to the chilled glass on the ice bar in front of me. When he finally finished his show, he added two cherries and handed me my drink with a gallant bow.

    ¡°Thank you.¡± I smiled appreciatively and watched while he poured Penny''s wine with significantly less fanfare.

    After the bartender handed her the goblet, Penny and I moved to the side of the room to make way for those waiting to be served behind us. I took the first sip of my purple drink, and exhaled blissfully as the liquor burned my throat. Calm washed over me, and I sighed. Penny watched me closely, observing the tension leaving my face, and chanced talking.

    ¡°Tal?¡± she asked hesitantly.

    ¡°Hmmm?¡±

    ¡°Are you getting back together with Donavon?¡± She spoke quickly, trying not to lose her nerve to broach the topic.

    ¡°What makes you think that?¡± I asked, sipping more of my drink to cover my unease. Were my confused thoughts projecting that loudly? I wasn¡¯t exactly considering getting back together with him, but I¡¯d been thinking about him a lot lately.

    ¡°Well, I mean, he was in your hospital room every night while you were¡­ sick. And then today when he came over to my booth, it seemed like you guys were pretty friendly. And then he showed up in your room tonight,¡± she ticked off.

    I watched Penny gulp her wine, choking slightly when she tried to swallow the huge mouthful. Her eyes remained on my face, like she was trying to read my answer before I gave it. I sipped my drink and mulled over her words.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I said finally. ¡°I¡¯m not really thinking about dating him again, but he¡¯s been so nice to me, and I think that maybe we could at least be friends.¡±

    I let my gaze wander over the crowd, feeling uneasy at the way Penny¡¯s intense stare was boring into me.

    ¡°Just friends?¡± she pressed gently. ¡°I see the way you two look at each other, Tal. I just don¡¯t want to see you get hurt again.¡± I turned to face her.

    ¡°I know, Penny,¡± I promised. ¡°I¡¯m not stupid. I¡¯ll be careful with him.¡±

    ¡°Good.¡± Penny visibly relaxed and sipped her wine, more carefully this time.

 Chapter Fifty-Six: The One Where Telekinesis Comes in Handy

    Penny¡¯s question gave me a lot to think about. Could I ever trust Donavon again? Even just as a friend? I thought that I could forgive him, even move past what he¡¯d done, but would I always doubt everything that he told me? Would I ever really believe him when he said he loved me? Had he told that girl, Kandice, that he loved her, too?

    Even as I pondered the cosmic questions of trust and love, I thought about how much Donavon comforted me, how much we¡¯d been through together. He understood how much being a Hunter meant to me and how devastated I was to be stuck here instead of finding Ian Crane. Penny hadn¡¯t known me in the years following my parents¡¯ deaths. She couldn¡¯t understand how much Donavon had helped me. Now that I was vulnerable and lost again, he was here for me.

    I was racking my brain for a new topic to lighten the mood when I felt a tap on my shoulder. Turning to face the welcome distraction, I found Captain Alvarez standing beside me.

    ¡°Natalia, Penelope, I hope that I am not interrupting anything,¡± he greeted us. His face was already beet-red, making it obvious the purple drink in his hand wasn¡¯t his first.

    ¡°Of course not, Captain,¡± I replied, grateful for his intrusion.

    ¡°Great! I was curious if I could ask you two a favor?¡± he asked conspiratorially.

    ¡°Sure, anything for you,¡± I matched his sly tone.

    ¡°I was hoping that you ladies might be able to get all the basic background information on a couple of students for me? Natalia, Director McDonough tells me that you have been working with Operative Latimore here to learn our Crypto system.¡±

    ¡°We would be happy to,¡± I replied with false enthusiasm. I was more than a little dismayed that the task he was requesting wasn¡¯t more interesting. After a week of sifting through personnel files, I wasn¡¯t exactly eager to explore more.

    ¡°That won¡¯t be a problem,¡± Penny agreed.

    ¡°Wonderful. I will have the list of names sent over in the morning. Natalia, if you could just come to the gymnasium after you have the information¡ªthat would be great.¡± Before I could reply, someone caught his eye across the room.

    ¡°Senator Bosica!¡± he called exuberantly to a man with neatly trimmed gray hair turning away from the bar. ¡°Tomorrow, Natalia." He winked over his shoulder at me as he retreated.

    ¡°Looks like Erik found a friend,¡± Penny snorted, pointing across the room to where Erik stood in deep conversation with Ursula. She rested one perfectly-manicured hand on his arm as they spoke. Her navy cocktail dress clung tightly to every curve of her body, perfectly emphasizing her feminine assets. The white tips of her nails gripped Erik¡¯s arm harder as he said something that made her laugh, and I noticed that the tiny flowers painted in the corners of her nails matched the color of her dress. Her closeness to him irritated me. I couldn¡¯t hear what they were saying above the dull hum of the other conversations taking place throughout the room, but their body language suggested that they knew each other.

    ¡°Down, girl.¡± Penny laughed, putting her hand on my arm. I¡¯d absently taken several steps toward where Erik and Ursula were standing. ¡°They¡¯re just talking.¡±

    ¡°Sorry,¡± I mumbled. ¡°I just wish she¡¯d stop touching him.¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t worry, Tal. She¡¯s not the one that he rushed to see this morning,¡± she pointed out.

    ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re right,¡± I agreed, still unable to tear my gaze from the duo. ¡°Wait, how did you know that he came to see me this morning?¡± I asked suspiciously.

    Penny drained the rest of her wine glass. ¡°He told me. I saw him at the fair before you got there.¡± She smiled smugly, and I wondered how much of our encounter Erik had divulged.

    My skin tingled just thinking about the way he¡¯d touched my cheeks and kissed my forehead. ¡°I¡¯ve missed you so much,¡± he¡¯d said while he¡¯d held me. My pulse kicked up a notch and I was slightly breathless, like I¡¯d just sprinted up the stairs to my bedroom.

    ¡°So, rekindling my relationship with Erik is acceptable then?¡± I asked.

    Penny shrugged, an amused smile tugging the corners of her mouth up. ¡°Call me biased, but Erik never cheated on you.¡±

    I gave a short, humorless laugh; she had a point. Erik might be a flirt, and rumors of his conquests fueled the gossip mill at Headquarters, but he wasn¡¯t the one that I¡¯d caught with another girl.

    Thankfully, Mac announced that dinner was to be served, and asked us to take our seats before I had a chance to give Erik and Ursula any more dirty looks. I found my place card between Janet and a Senator from New Hampshire, whom I¡¯d met once or twice. He and I exchanged pleasantries, but he was much more interested in ogling the woman on his left. That suited me just fine; after witnessing Ursula throwing herself at Erik and contemplating my future with Donavon, I wasn¡¯t in the mood for small talk.

    Penny was seated directly across the table between Captain Alvarez and, to my dismay, Ursula. Penny kept trying to dodge the Captain¡¯s wild hand gestures that accompanied his stories.

    ¡°You should have seen the look on the poor guy¡¯s face when I morphed from the dog he was petting into a naked man!¡± he exclaimed loudly, throwing his head back as he roared with laughter. As he did, his left hand sent Penny¡¯s water flying off the table. The glass slowed its flight just enough for Penny to be able to catch it before water and ice ended up all over the unfortunate waiter standing behind the Captain. I guess that Ursula¡¯s close proximity was lucky after all; telekinesis came in handy on occasion.

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    The waiter gave Penny an appreciative smile as he wiped at the stray drops that had sloshed on the table and her arm.

    ¡°Nice catch, Penelope,¡± Janet laughed. For his part, Captain Alvarez seemed oblivious to the near-accident he¡¯d caused.

    Donavon and Erik were next to each other, several seats down on the other side of Janet. Their unlucky seating assignments made me wonder who had made the seating chart. At least Erik wasn¡¯t sitting next to Ursula, I thought. I decided to keep one ear on their not-so-friendly conversation. Then, I glanced around the long table, searching for Henri. To my utter astonishment, I saw him sitting between Griffin and Cadence. Guess she¡¯d finagled an invite after all.

    Cadence looked pleased with her fortune at being seated next to Henri, and she was taking the opportunity to talk his ear off. I concentrated all of my strength towards my sense of hearing, and was able to hone in on their conversation. She was attempting to flirt with him in hopes he¡¯d put in a good word for her with Captain Alvarez. Lost cause, Cadence, I thought. Flirting with a guy who has a boyfriend was unlikely to yield positive results.

    ¡°How are you feeling after last night, Natalia?¡± Janet asked quietly, drawing me out of Henri and Cadence¡¯s conversation.

    ¡°Not too bad. Worried about Ernest,¡± I admitted.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure that he will regain his memories,¡± she said. She smiled when she spoke, but the expression failed to reach her eyes. Janet didn¡¯t really believe that Ernest would ever regain his memories¡ªshe just said so to make me feel better. While I appreciated her attempt, the confirmation that Ernest was unlikely to get better further deflated my mood.

    ¡°I hope so,¡± I whispered as a waiter placed a plate full of food in front of me.

    Dinner consisted of a Cornish hen stuffed with wild mushrooms and rice with green beans on the side. I picked at my hen and tried to pay attention to what was going on around me, but found my mind constantly wandering.

    Would Ernest ever be whole again? Could he regain his memory on his own? Did I want to get back together with Donavon? If so, why did Erik¡¯s presence affect me so much? If it had been Donavon that Ursula was fawning all over, would I have reacted the same way? Erik said that he missed me, but did that mean he still wanted to be with me? Would I ever come home early from a mission to find Erik in bed with another girl?

    My inner musings left me with more questions than answers.

    ¡°That fork is real gold, dear,¡± Janet said gently as she closed her hand around my fist.

    ¡°Huh?¡± I looked down, confused, at our hands and found the gold fork wrapped tightly in my fist. I was grinding it into the plate. I guess I¡¯d gotten myself a little worked up.

    ¡°Excuse me, miss? Are you still eating?¡± I looked up and recognized one of the waiters from the meat carving stations. I released the fork hastily, as though it were on fire. Nodding my head no, too embarrassed to speak, I felt the heat creep up my neck and color my cheeks.

    The waiter replaced my picked-over hen with a piece of pumpkin cheesecake topped with cinnamon ice cream. Managing to choke out a ¡°thank you,¡± I dug into my dessert.

    Dessert was a long, drawn out affair, complete with coffee drinks heavily laden with bourbon. I tried my hardest to keep a pleasant look pasted on my face even though I desperately wanted nothing more than to get out of the opulent room. Not a moment too soon, Mac finally stood, thanked everyone for coming, and invited those who were interested to stay for a nightcap. I quickly said goodbye to Janet and made a beeline for the exit.

    I made it as far as the door before I felt Erik¡¯s hand on my shoulder.

    ¡°Walk you back to your dorm?¡± he asked hopefully.

    I glanced around, looking for Penny. In my haste to leave, I¡¯d temporarily forgotten about her, but now I thought that I should really tell her I was leaving.

    ¡°Donavon is occupied being the Director¡¯s son,¡± Erik continued coolly.

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t looking for Donavon,¡± I snapped.

    For his part, Erik appeared nonplussed by my annoyance at his having drawn the logical conclusion. He offered me his arm. I hesitated briefly before looping my own underneath his crooked elbow. A grin lit his face as we exited the building together.

    ¡°Are you coming tomorrow to show all those Hunter wannabes how it¡¯s done?¡± he teased as we walked across the damp grass.

    ¡°I would love to, but I¡¯m not sure if Dr. Thistler would like that. She seems to think that physical stressors bring on the seizures.¡± I rolled my eyes to indicate how absurd I found the notion.

    ¡°Are they any closer to finding a cure?¡±

    ¡°According to Dr. Thistler, every day they get a little closer.¡±

    ¡°Well, don¡¯t worry about being replaced¡ªyou¡¯ll always be my partner.¡± He winked down at me and my stomach dropped as I read way too much into his words. The way his body brushed against mine while we walked made me always want to be his partner ¨C just not his Hunting partner.

    ¡°Sure about that? Earlier tonight, it looked like you¡¯d found yourself a new Telekinetic.¡± The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. I hadn¡¯t meant to bring up watching him with Ursula.

    ¡°Jealous much?¡± Erik laughed.

    ¡°No,¡± I snapped. ¡°I just noticed that you two were awfully friendly.¡±

    Erik¡¯s laughter died in his throat. ¡°I¡¯ve known Ursula for a long time. We have a close mutual friend. Sometimes, we all meet up in the city,¡± he said awkwardly, taken aback by the intensity of my accusations. He wasn¡¯t the only one. I hadn¡¯t meant to get so angry, but seeing Ursula touch him infuriated me, and Erik making light of the situation didn¡¯t help.

    An uncomfortable silence fell between us.

    ¡°How do you like being back at school?¡± Erik asked finally, breaking the mounting tension.

    ¡°Eh, it¡¯s okay. I can¡¯t wait to get out of here.¡± I choked over the lump that had formed in my throat, thinking about Erik with another girl.

    ¡°Really?¡± he gave me a skeptical look.

    ¡°You think that I¡¯d rather be here twiddling my thumbs than out there with you guys doing something that matters?¡± I asked, not quite sure what he was implying.

    ¡°No, it¡¯s just. . . . I don¡¯t know. Never mind,¡± he mumbled.

    ¡°It¡¯s just what?¡± I demanded. He didn¡¯t answer. Mentally, I reached out to him. Anger clouded my mind like a haze. ¡°You think that I¡¯m here playing house with Donavon?¡± I said incredulously, releasing my grip on his arm and coming just short of actually shoving it away.

    ¡°When you left, you two weren¡¯t even on speaking terms,¡± he mumbled. ¡°And now you two seem awfully chummy. I mean he was in your room when I came over tonight. And he was pissed when he realized that I¡¯d come to see you this morning.¡± I could tell that he regretted bringing up this topic before the words even left his mouth.

    ¡°Not that it¡¯s any of your business, but Donavon and I are friends. I¡¯ve been going through a really traumatizing ordeal and he¡¯s been here for me!!¡± I was practically shouting. ¡°I don¡¯t have time to worry about dating Donavon, or you for that matter. He, at least, understands that.¡±

    ¡°Hey, I never said I was looking to date you, Talia. I¡¯m just looking out for you because I thought we were friends, too.¡± Erik¡¯s temper flared as he hurled the angry words in my direction. The word ¡°friend¡± stung as though he¡¯d physically slapped me across the face.

    ¡°Fine!¡± I yelled, my voice wavering with the effort of keeping my tears at bay.

    ¡°Fine,¡± he shot back.

    Kicking off my shoes without bothering to pick them up, I took off at a dead sprint for my room. When I got within several feet of the door, it burst open, and I flew through without missing a beat. I took the stairs three at a time and heard the door to my room fly open, slamming against the doorjamb as I rounded the corner. As soon as the door banged shut behind me, and I heard the lock engage, I collapsed to the floor in a pile of damp red silk. Tears of humiliation burned the backs of my eyes before streaking ugly black mascara rivers down my flushed cheeks.

 Chapter Fifty-Seven: The One Where They Assign Value to Lives

    The next morning, I woke with eyes so swollen that I couldn¡¯t for a second trick myself into believing that the previous night had been a bad dream. My ruined dress was lying in a crumbled heap on the floor of my bathroom. I kicked it aside as I rummaged through my medicine cabinet, trying to find the cream that Gretchen ordered for me in the city. I found it and rubbed the cream all over my eyes, cringing against the burning sensation that accompanied the reduction in swelling.

    After a long, hot shower, I dressed in jeans and a thick black sweater. As promised, Captain Alvarez had sent a list of names to my portable communicator. Grabbing the device from my desk, I set off for the Crypto Building.

    Penny was already seated in her usual chair with a large cup of coffee when I arrived. As per usual, Gemma occupied one of the other chairs in the room. Both appeared to be analyzing information on half a dozen computers at the same time. I watched silently as four sets of fingers flew across keyboards as random numbers and letters scrolled downs the screens of each of the individual monitors. I marveled at their ability to process the data simultaneously.

    ¡°Hey,¡± Penny called without turning around.

    ¡°Morning,¡± I greeted her. ¡°Hey Gemma,¡± I said to the other girl. She smiled shyly before returning to her work.

    ¡°You ran out pretty fast last night,¡± Penny declared, still facing the computers.

    ¡°I was tired,¡± I replied quietly.

    ¡°So tired that you needed Erik to help you home?¡± she teased.

    I knew that she was curious, but the last thing that I wanted right then was to rehash my fight with Erik and the accusations leading up to it. Penny would think that I was nuts. I was starting to think that I was a little nuts myself. Last night, I¡¯d felt justified in my actions, but today with no alcohol clouding my judgment, the harsh daylight illuminated just how ridiculous I¡¯d acted. I¡¯d gone into a jealous rage over seeing a guy who wasn¡¯t my boyfriend standing too close to a girl that he¡¯d known longer than he¡¯d known me. Then, when he¡¯d called me on it, I practically bit his head off. I was just this side of sanity. If we didn¡¯t find the spy soon, I was going to end up in a padded cell.

    Penny pressed a key, halting all of the text scrolling across the screens, and swiveled her chair around to face me. Her bright green eyes urged me for more details, but the light dimmed when she saw my distraught expression. Her devilish smile contorted into a sympathetic grimace.

    ¡°What happened, Tal?¡± she asked gently.

    ¡°Erik didn¡¯t exactly walk me home,¡± I mumbled, looking at my feet.

    ¡°Do you want to talk about it?¡± she asked.

    ¡°We got in a fight about Donavon and Ursula, and then, somehow, it evolved into something else altogether.¡±

    Penny studied me intently, almost as if she was willing me to tell her more, but I really didn¡¯t need her confirmation that I was losing it.

    Penny slid a smile into place, but the gesture didn¡¯t reach her worried eyes.

    ¡°So, want to plug this communicator in for me so I can get the info the Captain wants?¡± I asked, desperately wanting to change the subject.

    ¡°Hand it over.¡± She held out her hand with mock impatience and an eye roll. I gave her a broad smile and gratefully handed her the electronic device.

    Penny attached my portable communicator to one of the computers not currently being used. Again, I watched in awe as her fingers flew across the keys, entering information too fast for me to follow. Several times, she told me to hold either my thumb or my eye up to a scanner mounted next to the computer. I obediently complied and after what seemed like an excessive amount of typing, she told me that I was all ready to begin.

    Taking a seat in my own swivel chair, I set to work. I spend the next several hours sifting through files on the designated students, downloading and organizing only the pertinent data for each individual. I probably could have just asked Penny, in my special suggestive manner, to do this for me, but I never used my Talents on her. After all, she was the only real friend that I had. My resolve began to waver the longer I stared at the screen.

    ¡°Done!¡± I announced happily. My eyes ached with fatigue and it took me a minute to uncross my vision.

    ¡°Got everything you need?¡± Penny asked.

    ¡°Yup, so if you could just disconnect this thing for me, I¡¯ll be on my way.¡±

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    Penny deftly disconnected my portable communicator and handed it to me.

    ¡°See you at dinner?¡± she asked.

    ¡°You got it.¡± I gave a small wave to Gemma and set off.

    My next stop was Medical. I walked through the sliding glass doors and the receptionist on duty waved me back immediately.

    ¡°Room Five, Ms. Lyons,¡± she said pleasantly. Nodding, I continued on through the double doors to Room Five. The receptionist must have buzzed Dr. Thistler immediately because I¡¯d just managed to jump up on the exam table when she walked through the door.

    ¡°Hi, Natalia. How are we feeling today?¡±

    I hated when she said ¡°we¡±, like she was somehow part of me.

    ¡°Same as yesterday,¡± I mumbled. Sometimes, I wondered why she bothered asking; if I was feeling anything less than ¡°fine¡± she¡¯d know because I would¡¯ve been whisked into Medical, convulsing. Her only response was a smile. Pulling my sweater over my head, I waited anxiously as she filled the syringe with the thick liquid out of a bottle from her coat pocket. I gritted my teeth as she plunged the tip of the needle into my arm and depressed the plunger.

    The chemicals burned as they entered my bloodstream, and I sighed. The annoyance of receiving daily injections was a small price compared to the calming relief that the medicine provided me. As soon as she removed the injection needle, she replaced it with the one that would draw a sample of my blood. I watched as the syringe filled with my red liquid.

    ¡°All set,¡± she said, taping a small piece of gauze in the crook of my elbow.

    ¡°Thanks,¡± I muttered, and eased myself off of the exam table to head for the door.

    ¡°Dr. Thistler?¡± I asked, hesitating before I crossed the threshold.

    ¡°Hmmm?¡± she answered distractedly, making notations on her electronic pad.

    ¡°How¡¯s Ernest today?¡± I asked quietly.

    ¡°Same as yesterday, dear,¡± she replied without looking up.

    ¡°Oh, okay. Well, thanks.¡± I wasn¡¯t really sure what I¡¯d expected to hear, but I¡¯d hoped for a more positive response¡ªsomething like, ¡°he¡¯s great¡± or ¡°he¡¯s regained his memory.¡± No such luck.

    In the hallway just outside the door to Room Five, I paused. Closing my eyes, I swallowed my guilt. I had to see him. I had to know if he was really in as bad a shape as Dr. Thistler said. Surely not. I could understand him being confused or dazed, but the way that Dr. Thistler saw it in her mind, Ernest appeared comatose.

    Quickly, I glanced to my left and my right. The hallway was empty. I opened my mind and searched for active brains. I could feel Dr. Thistler¡¯s behind me, but she was busy logging my visit in her files. I could feel activity throughout the entire complex and decided to keep my mind open as I turned and walked to my right.

    Winding my way through the corridors of the Medical facility, I searched in vain for Ernest. I was convinced that I¡¯d be able to track him through his mind, but I couldn¡¯t seem to get a handle on it. Deeper and deeper I traveled into the bowels of the Medical building, scanning my palm at various locations to gain access to the more secure areas. I was definitely leaving a trail behind me¡ªsloppy for a Hunter.

    At last, I reached a door labeled Psychiatric. I took a deep calming breath; I knew that Ernest was behind that door. I still couldn¡¯t feel his mind, but I knew in my heart that he was there. Holding one shaky palm up to the scanner, I waited, a small part of me hoping that I wouldn¡¯t be granted access. The light on the scanner turned green, and I heard the lock on the door disengage. Dread weighed me down like a wet blanket as I pulled the door open and entered the Psychiatric Ward.

    In the first room on my right, I felt an emptiness, a void the size of the Grand Canyon. My feet were forcing me forward before I could register the fact that they were taking me into Ernest¡¯s room. I saw him immediately. He was propped up in a large bed. There was a leather belt secured around his middle, keeping him upright. I was barely able to suppress the gasp that rose in my throat. Tears of shame welled in the corners of my eyes.

    Ernest stared dully in my direction, but his expression was vacant and unfocused. I stood paralyzed in place, the soles of my shoes feeling heavy, as though I¡¯d stepped in wet cement. One of Ernest¡¯s eyes began to twitch, and he made a soft gurgling noise deep in his throat. I swallowed hard and swiped his mind. I didn¡¯t bother to suppress the sob that clawed at my windpipe this time. Ernest¡¯s mind was empty. Not confused, not dazed. Empty. I sunk to my knees, my fists balled at my sides as hot tears ran down my face and splashed the linoleum floor. Wrapping my arms around myself, my body began to shake.

    ¡°Natalia, I told you that this was not a good idea,¡± Dr. Thistler¡¯s voice sounded behind me.

    Her white lab coat clad form swam when I turned to look up at her. Dr. Thistler grabbed my upper arm and pulled me to my feet with a strength that I hadn¡¯t believed she possessed.

    ¡°Can I put the memories back?¡± I stammered hopefully. Maybe I could make this right.

    ¡°No, Natalia,¡± she replied gently. ¡°It¡¯s too much of a risk.¡±

    ¡°To who?¡± I asked, already knowing the answer.

    ¡°To you,¡± she responded as if the answer were obvious. The answer had been obvious; I¡¯d just needed to hear her say it.

    ¡°I don¡¯t care!¡± I insisted. ¡°This is all my fault, I¡¯m a monster.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± she said firmly. ¡°No, you are not. And you are much too valuable to this organization to risk a memory re-implementation.¡±

    ¡°What about Ernest? Isn¡¯t he valuable?¡± I demanded.

    Dr. Thistler gave a weary sigh, and then gently led me from Ernest¡¯s room. Her non-response brought to mind the words that Ian Crane had thrown at me in Nevada, ¡°You have no idea what your Agency does to innocent people,¡± he¡¯d said. Maybe I hadn¡¯t known then what TOXIC did to innocent people, but I was starting to realize it now.

    Crane had told me that my parents¡¯ deaths were a consequence of war; was Ernest¡¯s condition now a consequence of war, too? Could I be so callous as to accept that notion? Once again, I was left with more questions than answers. Worst of all, I was starting to wonder how much of what Crane told me was true.

    I desperately wanted to go back to my room and pull the blankets over my head, form a barrier against the outside world. Instead, I walked numbly from the Medical building to the Arena to meet Captain Alvarez. I couldn¡¯t erase the image of Ernest and his blank stare from my fragile psyche. Ernest¡¯s condition was considered an acceptable risk of psychic interrogation, but it wasn¡¯t a risk that I wanted to be part of.

 Chapter Fifty-Eight: The One Where She Gets a Taste of Her Own Powers

    I was still distracted with thoughts of Ernest when I reached the Arena; so distracted in fact that when I rounded a corner, I ran smack into another person. To top it off, that person was Erik.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± I mumbled, sidestepping around him.

    ¡°Tal, wait.¡± He grabbed my upper arm. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry about last night¡ª¡±

    ¡°You have nothing to be sorry about,¡± I said, cutting him off. After witnessing the fruits of the destructive side of my Talent, my embarrassment over what had happened with Erik seemed trivial.

    ¡°No, you were right, Talia. It is none of my business what does or does not go on between you and Donavon. We¡¯re just friends after all . . .¡±

    ¡°Right, just friends,¡± I muttered. I hated the part of me that felt the deep bite of disappointment at his calling us ¡°just friends.¡±

    ¡°So, we¡¯re good?¡± he asked

    ¡°We¡¯re good.¡± I smiled tightly.

    ¡°Want to help us with the demonstration?¡± he asked hopefully. I was about to say ¡°no,¡± that Dr. Thistler had said I wasn¡¯t supposed to physically exert myself, but instead, I agreed. I decided that what I needed, more than hiding myself under my covers, was a distraction. Erik gave me a big smile and squeezed my shoulder in a buddy-buddy kind of way that he would¡¯ve done to Henri as he walked away. My mood plummeted so fast that the splat when it hit the ground should¡¯ve been audible.

    Making my way to Captain Alvarez, I linked our communicators like Penny had shown me, so that I could transfer a copy of the information that I¡¯d downloaded. Then I found Erik and Henri and changed from my own clothes into an adapti-suit that zipped up to my neck. I plaited my dark curls into two thick braids, then wrapped a black-and-white bandana over them and tied it securely at the base of my skull. Henri had dressed to match.

    Captain Alvarez was speaking to the large group of students assembled in the Arena stands. I followed Henri to the center of a mat and we took up positions facing each other, about ten feet apart. We waited for Captain Alvarez to finish his introductions. The shrill sound of the whistle reverberated throughout the Arena, and I wasted no time in charging Henri.

    We ran at each other, but he lunged first, his long body leaving the ground and becoming completely horizontal as his huge hands reached for me. At the last second, I broke to my right, dropping to the ground in a roll. Henri tucked his long body into a roll of his own and we spun around to face each other once more.

    Henri rose to his full height, but I remained crouching. I didn¡¯t hesitate before I launched myself vertically like a lioness using my Telekinesis to propel myself higher so I would collide with Henri¡¯s shoulders. He was ready and caught me, wrapping his long fingers around my waist and flipping me over his head, but not before I¡¯d made contact. I added the momentum that I already had to Henri¡¯s flip, and let my feet fly over my head, landing squarely on the ground.

    Henri stumbled as a result of my blow and dropped to one knee in an effort to steady himself. He flung one leg out and I felt the front of his foot connect with the outside of my ankle, effectively cutting me down, and I fell.

    I should have landed on my face, but my reflexes were quick from years of training. I was able to get my hands underneath me and instead fell in an awkward push up position. I felt Henri close in from behind, and judged the distance to be close enough for contact. Pushing up onto my hands, I kicked back as hard as I could just as he was bending towards me.

    My feet caught him first in the stomach and then in his chest, knocking him backwards and off-balance, giving me enough time to get on my own two feet and turn to face him. By this time, we were both breathing heavily, and I knew that I must be sweating terribly in my suit, but the temperature-regulating function kept me comfortable.

    We both backed up a couple of feet as we tried to catch our breath. I felt what Henri was going to do before my mind could really register it. The suits could stretch and mold to any body shape, making them easy to morph in.

    Henri kicked off the ground and leapt towards me again, but this time, as his feet left the ground his body morphed into his favorite go-to shape¡ªa gigantic bird. Henri flew at me in bird form and I had barely enough time to react. Letting myself fall backwards, I kept my feet planted. I used my own powers to keep my body horizontal, with my knees bent. Henri, as the bird, flew right over me. As soon as he cleared my head, I twisted around and jumped, wrapping my arms around his thick neck. I was unable to get my short legs wrapped around his body because his huge wings were in the way.

    He flew low around the Arena with me clinging to his neck. He tilted one way and then the other in an attempt to throw me off, but I held tight. Throwing all of my concentration to my mental abilities I willed him to change back. Within seconds my mental battle won out over his physical one, and we were falling to the ground, a tangle of human limbs. We rolled several times until finally his heavy form landed on top of my much smaller one. He lifted himself up to take the weight off of me and I gave him a wicked smile as our eyes met. I had just a second to see the look of confusion cross his face.

    As soon as he had lifted himself off, I tucked my knees to my chest and used all of the strength that I could muster to kick him in the stomach. Henri flew backwards, propelled farther by my telekinetic powers. But I had only seconds of satisfaction before I sensed a new threat coming.

    Rolling first to my stomach and then quickly to my feet, I had just enough time to see a huge predatory cat leaping at me. Henri rarely morphed into anything besides the huge bird, but that didn¡¯t mean that he couldn¡¯t. I dove to the side as the huge cat landed where I¡¯d been standing only seconds before. I stood, and the cat and I circled each other. I again risked using my mental muscles to will Henri to change back to human. I watched as my efforts were rewarded and the huge cat was replaced by Henri¡¯s human form, now down on all fours.

    Stolen story; please report.

    Using my mental powers often physically exhausted me. I¡¯d trained since coming to School to utilize them during a fight, but rarely implemented them in a real battle. While I¡¯d had the best physical training available, and could hold my own against a normal person, I was really no match for a Morph. I¡¯d used my mental powers because it was my best defense against a trained fighter like Henri in his morph form, but it cost me a great deal of my own strength.

    I stood facing Henri, my entire body shaking from the physical and mental exertion. My skin was dry, thanks to the suit, but sweat stung my eyes and soaked my bandana. Taking several deep breaths to calm myself, I tried to refocus my mental energies.

    Henri slowly rose from his hands and knees. I tensed, readying myself for his attack. Instead, he slowly bent at the waist in a deep bow. I let out a huge sigh; he was calling an end to the demonstration. I inclined my head and gave him a small bow in return. He walked over to me and wrapped his long arms around me. I knew that he could feel my body shaking against him, but he didn¡¯t comment.

    ¡°You¡¯re better than I remember,¡± his mental voice filled my head. I knew that he was just being nice, but at that moment, I would take any compliment that I could get. As we drew apart, I opened all of the senses that I¡¯d been directing solely on Henri to the entire Arena. The whooping and cheering of the students filled my ears. Giddy from the physical release of tension, I turned and gave them a small wave. Dr. Thistler was wrong, I thought to myself. Physical exertion was exactly what I needed.

    ¡°Amazing, Tals,¡± Erik said, giving me a hug.

    ¡°Thanks.¡± I smiled at his praise.

    ¡°Yeah, I might even have a bruise or two,¡± Henri joked. Bruises were unlikely since I¡¯d only hit him where the suit covered.

    ¡°They¡¯ll make you look manlier,¡± I laughed, playing along. ¡°Frederick will love them.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, he really likes it when I get beaten up.¡± Henri rolled his eyes, but his expression softened at my mention of his boyfriend.

    ¡°How is he?¡± I asked. During my time at Elite Headquarters, I¡¯d had the pleasure of meeting Frederick several times, and really enjoyed his company.

    ¡°He¡¯s good. Really good.¡± Henri smiled fondly.

    ¡°Lyons, Reich, Kelley, we¡¯re ready for you over here,¡± Captain Alvarez called.

    Now it was the students¡¯ turn. All Talents took basic combat classes, and many of these kids would have taken more advanced training, but very few of them would have the opportunity to use their abilities in combat. Captain Alvarez broke the students into five groups, and assigned me, Erik, Henri, and two other Hunters that he¡¯d brought with him to a group.

    I spent the remainder of my afternoon coaching the teenagers as they fumbled through using their Talents to fight one another. Some had very developed powers, managing to morph on the fly into varying forms while others could barely manage a complete morph standing still. Several students were able to use telekinesis to throw their attackers off course. One particularly skilled light manipulator evaded her would-be attackers by becoming invisible, leaving her opponents confused and defenseless when she reappeared and attacked from behind. Her apparent mastery of her craft impressed me.

    In the midst of all of this, there was a tall gangly girl that reminded me of Penny. I recognized her from Ursula¡¯s telekinesis class. At first, I¡¯d thought she was a fairly Low-level Talent, but after working with her, I¡¯d noticed that her problem wasn¡¯t her Talent level¡ªit was that she didn¡¯t know how to use her abilities.

    Physically, her only resemblance to Penny was the fact that she was tall and gangly. She had light brown hair and a smattering of freckles across her pale face¡ªa sharp contrast to Penny¡¯s dyed bright red-orange hair. The girl had light brown eyes that appeared to be the same color as her hair, nothing like Penny¡¯s color enhanced bright lime-green ones. Still, there was something about her that screamed ¡°Penny¡± to me. Maybe it¡¯s the fact that she¡¯s definitely not a natural fighter, I thought to myself as I watched her spar against a particularly skilled Telekinetic. The boy adeptly avoided most of her blows using his mind. Her form was good, and no matter how many times he diverted her, she kept coming right back at him. If nothing else, the girl had a lot of heart.

    I¡¯d strapped my portable communicator to my arm, and I used it to pull up the gangly girl¡¯s file. Talent: Higher Reasoning, Telekinesis. Interesting, I thought. Dual Talents were rare, particularly when the Talents were as unrelated as Telekinesis and Higher Reasoning. But I now understood why she reminded me of Penny; Higher Reasoning Talents gave off a very specific brain pattern.

    It surprised me that a Higher Reasoning would be interested in joining the Hunters. Her Telekinetic powers made her a possible candidate, but since she had yet to master them, it was doubtful they would be much use on her Placement Exams.

    Technically, any student could be assigned to any department during the Placement Exams, but it was rare for Higher Reasoning Talents to become Hunters. I was sure that it had happened at some point in the Agency¡¯s history, but a strong Higher Reasoning¡ªand I was confident that this girl was a strong Talent¡ªwas better utilized in the Crypto Division.

    Her name was Kenly Baker. She was a junior, and therefore due to take her Placement Exams at the end of the year. Instantly, I started to think of the possible advantages of having a Higher Reasoning Talent, who also happened to be a Telekinetic as part of a Hunting team. She would instantaneously be able to compute the probability of success on a mission. She would be able to determine the best exit strategy if a Hunt went south. It would be like having a human computer in the field, one that could think and feel; she was a more proficient strategist than any of us other Talents could ever hope to be. By the end of my day with the students, I¡¯d convinced myself that it was a great idea, full of nothing but advantages . . . if she could learn to use her Telekinesis.

    I walked back to my room with an extra spring in my step, giddy about my newest idea.

    ¡°Talia!¡± Erik called out to me.

    Turning at the sound of my name, I saw him jogging in my direction.

    ¡°Where¡¯s the fire?¡± he joked.

    ¡°Huh?¡± I replied, still lost in my fantastic scheme.

    ¡°Why did you run out?¡± he clarified.

    ¡°I¡¯m gross, I need a shower, and I have to talk to Mac about something,¡± I listed absently.

    ¡°How about having dinner with me?¡± His big turquoise eyes were hopeful when I met his gaze.

    Remembering his proclamation that we were ¡°friends,¡± I not-so-kindly retorted, ¡°I¡¯m having dinner with Penny.¡± I did, in fact, have dinner plans with Penny, although I saw her every day, and I doubted that canceling on her would be a big deal.

    ¡°Oh . . . well, okay. But I¡¯m leaving tomorrow evening and I just wanted to spend some time with you.¡± He looked truly hurt by my refusal, and my resolve softened.

    Just then, my communicator, still strapped to my arm, beeped with an incoming message. It was from Donavon. I hit the text button option and read only one word: ¡°dinner?¡± I quickly typed back, simply, ¡°Penny, sorry.¡±

    I looked up at Erik. He was still staring at me with his beautiful sparkling eyes. My fingers involuntarily started typing a second message, this time to Penny to break our plans when I realized what he was doing.

    ¡°Erik!¡± I exclaimed. ¡°Do not use my powers against me.¡±

    He beamed devilishly, not even the least bit abashed at being caught. ¡°I just really want to have dinner with you, nothing special, just the cafeteria,¡± he pouted, pushing his bottom lip out and fixing me with a look that I knew well, the one that had led countless girls to his bed.

    ¡°I can¡¯t. I already promised Penny. I¡¯ll see you tomorrow.¡± With that, I turned and left before I changed my mind without the help of his will.

 Chapter Fifty-Nine: The One Where She Cant Control Her Temper

    I showered and changed as quickly as I could manage, and text messaged Penny to tell her that I would meet her for dinner in an hour. Then I called Mac.

    ¡°Danbury McDonough,¡± I said clearly as I depressed the voice button.

    ¡°Hello?¡± he answered his communicator on the first ring.

    ¡°Hey, where are you? I want to ask you something.¡±

    ¡°I am in my office,¡± he answered.

    ¡°Mind if I come over?¡±

    ¡°That would be fine; I am just finishing some work,¡± he replied.

    ¡°Be there in a minute.¡± I pushed the end button on my communicator and set off.

    I reached the administration building ten minutes later. It was already dinnertime, so Mac¡¯s assistant was gone. I walked past her desk and knocked lightly on his door.

    ¡°Come on in, Natalia,¡± he called.

    Pushing the heavy oak door open, I shuffled into the room.

    ¡°I hope this relates to the spy in our midst?¡± he said, giving me a tired look.

    Immediately, I felt bad about approaching him with what I¡¯d thought was a brilliant idea just an hour ago. Now, under his hard gaze, I wasn¡¯t so sure.

    ¡°Not exactly,¡± I began slowly, gauging his reaction.

    ¡°Natalia,¡± he started, but I cut him off before I lost my nerve.

    ¡°I want to personally train Kenly Baker to help her become a Hunter.¡± I waited anxiously for Mac to say something. He just stared at me for several long moments with blank gray eyes, causing me to shift uneasily from one foot to the other.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think that is a productive use of your time, Natalia,¡± he finally answered, turning his attention back to the work on his desk.

    ¡°No, but it is, Mac. Kenly is a Higher Reasoning Talent and a Telekinetic. I think that her Talents could actually be really useful in the field, if she could just learn how to fight. If she were adequately trained in hand-to-hand combat and weapons, she¡¯d be an asset,¡± I replied earnestly.

    ¡°Natalia, there is a reason that Higher Reasoning Talents are never placed with the Hunters. They don¡¯t belong there,¡± he answered harshly, not looking up from his paperwork.

    ¡°I know, I know. I know that she¡¯ll need a lot of work before her Placement Exams, but I think that she could be really great,¡± I pressed, imploring him to come around to my way of thinking. ¡°And Telekinetics frequently become Hunters.¡±

    ¡°Dual Talents are rarely strong in both areas. If she is a strong Higher Reasoning Talent, then her Telekinetic abilities are likely weak,¡± he stated.

    ¡°But I don¡¯t think that they are. I think she just needs to learn how to use them better. And she only needs to be ranked Elite in one to be considered for the Hunters,¡± I pointed out proudly.

    Mac spared me a withering look before returning his gaze to his desk. He apparently wasn¡¯t as impressed with the loophole in the system as I was.

    ¡°She will never be able to catch up¡ªher exams are at the end of this year. You won¡¯t have the time to strengthen her senses and teach her to fight well enough to qualify for placement with the Hunters. And even if you could, by some miracle, manage such a feat, she¡¯ll never make it through her Pledge year without continuous training. Besides, her skills are better used in other departments.¡±

    I gritted my teeth and held firm. ¡°I know, Mac, but she has a lot of heart and really wants this. It won¡¯t interfere with my other duties,¡± I promised. ¡°Maybe I could even stop aiding in Donavon¡¯s class?¡± I continued hopefully.

    ¡°The way I understand it, the two of you have been getting along much better in the past couple of days. Why would you want to stop helping him?¡± Mac asked, finally finding the conversation worthy of looking up from his work.

    ¡°It¡¯s getting me nowhere,¡± I replied emphatically. ¡°We both know that Donavon isn¡¯t the spy, and I haven¡¯t heard anything in the minds of his students that seems off. Maybe I could even spend that time in the Crypto Bank with Penny, going through more files,¡± I offered.

    ¡°Really? You want to spend more time sifting through files? I was under the impression that you weren¡¯t exactly thrilled with that portion of your assignment.¡±

    ¡°Well, no, not exactly. But I have a feeling that¡¯s the place where I¡¯m most likely to find the spy. If you want, I can even stop helping Griffin since he isn¡¯t our guy either.¡±

    Mac mulled this over for a long time, and a quick swipe of his mind told me that he was on the fence.

    ¡°What is it that you think you will find if you spend more time in the Crypto Bank?¡± he asked finally. He seemed genuinely curious.

    ¡°I don¡¯t exactly know,¡± I replied honestly. ¡°I just have this feeling that something isn¡¯t right, and that¡¯s where I¡¯m most likely to figure it out.¡± Mac nodded his head slowly, processing my sketchy argument.

    I kept quiet. I¡¯d already laid all my cards on the table, and at this point he was either going to agree or not.

    ¡°Fine. You will stop assisting Donavon and spend that time in the Crypto Bank. You will remain with Griffin, though; I paired you with him because your weapons expertise is very valuable there. I will let you train the Baker girl after the school day ends. But I am warning you right now, Natalia¡ªit is incredibly unlikely that she will even come close to scoring high enough to become a Hunter. I don¡¯t want you filling her head with false hope. The girl will take the Crypto Placement Exam in addition to the Hunters¡¯ Exam. I implore you to make sure that she is adequately prepared for both. In a fight, her Higher Reasoning will be of no advantage,¡± he warned.

    ¡°I suppose that we¡¯ll have to agree to disagree on that last part.¡± I smiled triumphantly at him. He made a noncommittal noise in response. Not wanting to give him an opportunity to change his mind, I turned to leave.

    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    ¡°Natalia?¡± he called.

    I turned back. ¡°Yes?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Please stay focused right now. One of your greatest strengths is your focus and dedication to the ultimate goal to TOXIC. Do not lose that now. Let¡¯s find this spy and get you better, so that you can return to the reason that you are here.¡± He paused before finishing, but I didn¡¯t need him to finish his sentiments; I read the words out of his mind. I took a deep breath and readied myself for him to speak them aloud.

    ¡°You are here to avenge your parents¡¯ deaths. You made that choice. I gave you the option to return to Capri, but you chose to come to the McDonough School.¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± I replied weakly.

    ¡°Do you still want to help track down Crane? Do you want another chance to kill him?¡±

    ¡°Of course, I do!¡± I exclaimed defensively.

    ¡°Then find the spy so that we can interrogate him and find out what we need to know.¡±

    ¡°Like you had me do to Ernest?¡± I knew that I¡¯d gone too far the moment the words were out of my mouth.

    ¡°I am sorry about what happened to Ernest. I really am. But we are at war, Natalia, and if it means that a few innocent people get hurt in the process, then that is a risk I will take. Every time.¡± His voice was scarily calm.

    Once again, Ian Crane¡¯s words played in my mind. ¡°You have no idea what your Agency does to innocent people.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s easy for you to say, Mac; you¡¯re not the one who has to live with the consequences of what you personally did in the name of war,¡± I spat back, my temper clouding my better judgment.

    ¡°You have no idea of the sacrifices that I have made in the name of war.¡± Mac¡¯s voice rose an octave, and I feared that he would bare his teeth the way he had in my hospital room. ¡°Do. Not. Let. Your parents¡¯ deaths have been in vain.¡± He punctuated every word in a low voice that sounded more animal than human, but at least no pointy canines flashed over his bloodless lips.

    ¡°I will find the spy.¡± I spun and fled Mac¡¯s office before he could say anything else, my victory concerning Kenly long forgotten.

    ***

    ¡°You¡¯re late,¡± Penny declared as I walked into the cafeteria after my meeting with Mac.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± I replied absently. ¡°I had to meet with Mac about something.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s up? Did you find something about the spy today?¡± she asked hopefully.

    ¡°Oh, no, nothing like that,¡± I said.

    I told her all about Kenly, and how I hoped that if I helped her train I could make her into a Hunter. Penny thought my idea was great, and she agreed that having a team member with analytical skills would be an invaluable asset in the field. Her enthusiasm for my plan renewed my own. She too seemed intrigued by the fact that Kenly was a dual Talent. I was thrilled to have Penny as a sounding board, and we bounced ideas back and forth until the cafeteria staff kicked us out.

    My day had been such a roller coaster of emotions that I was mentally exhausted, and I returned to my room after dinner. Penny told me that she would be in the Crypto Bank tomorrow evening, and I promised to head over as soon as I finished helping Captain Alvarez.

    I was in a good mood when I reached my room. My communicator was blinking and beeping furiously on my side table when I entered. Selecting the voice button, I went in my bathroom to get ready for bed. I listened to Donavon¡¯s voice fill the room as I brushed my teeth and washed my face. After I¡¯d finished my nightly routine, I hit the reply button on my communicator and waited. As soon as Donavon answered, a mini hologram of him popped out of the communicator.

    ¡°Don¡¯t put me on hologram; I¡¯m already in my pajamas,¡± I whined when he answered.

    ¡°Exactly what I was hoping for,¡± he replied, the mini-Donavon suggestively wagging its eyebrows. With a pang, I thought of how Erik always wiggled his eyebrows when he was being crass.

    ¡°You called?¡± I asked, hurriedly changing the subject.

    ¡°Yeah, just wanted to make sure you¡¯re feeling okay,¡± he said.

    ¡°I¡¯m good,¡± I answered with a half-truth. Physically, I¡¯d felt great all day. Emotionally, I was still raw from my encounters with Ernest and Mac.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong, Talia?¡± he asked, sensing my dishonesty.

    ¡°Nothing,¡± I mumbled, not wanting to recount my taxing day.

    ¡°I¡¯m coming over,¡± he declared.

    ¡°Not necessary,¡± I insisted.

    ¡°I can tell that it is. You should¡¯ve told me; I would have gone to see Ernest with you.¡± Damn, our connection was still strong enough for him to pick up on my mental projections across the building. It was also a possibility that his father had told him; I felt certain that Dr. Thistler had gone straight to Mac after my breakdown in Ernest¡¯s room.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to talk about it, Donavon,¡± I warned.

    ¡°Then we won¡¯t talk. I¡¯m on my way now, though.¡± The mini-hologram Donavon disappeared when he disconnected.

    True to his word, Donavon quietly knocked on my door just minutes later. Reluctantly, I opened it and let him in. Donavon said nothing as he came over and kissed me softly on the top of my head. He pulled the covers back on the bed and waited while I climbed in. I scooted all the way over to the side closest to the wall, keeping my back to him. Donavon kicked off his shoes and crawled in behind me. I lifted my head and he slid his arm underneath it. One hand absently played with my hair while his other sought out my hand, threading our fingers together.

    Penny¡¯s words filled my head, followed by my own promise to be careful where he was concerned.

    ¡°Tal, I can¡¯t tell you how sorry I am about what happened. I wish that I could take it all back, but I can¡¯t. I care about you so much, and I know that there¡¯s a lot going on right now. I just want to help you. I will do anything I can for you,¡± Donavon urged. ¡°You can trust me, Natalia. I will never hurt you again. If it takes the rest of my life, I will make you see that you can trust me, that I am sorry, and that I love you.¡±

    ¡°Did you tell her that you loved her too?¡± I whispered. I didn¡¯t really want to, but I had to know.

    ¡°No, I never told Kandice that I loved her. It would¡¯ve been a lie,¡± he replied, tightening his fingers around mine.

    I wanted to believe him, but his mental barriers shot up, letting me know he was lying to me.

    ¡°You should go, Donavon,¡± I said quietly, tears filling my eyes.

    ¡°No, Talia. I¡¯m not leaving. You can¡¯t honestly tell me that you don¡¯t still have feelings for me, can you?¡±

    I did still have feelings for Donavon. I still cared so much that knowing that he was lying to me broke my heart all over again. ¡°If you love me, if you still care about me, then tell me the truth, Donavon. Did you tell her that you loved her?¡±

    Donavon swallowed hard. ¡°Yes, I did,¡± he whispered.

    A sob tore through my chest, and I yanked my hand free from his. ¡°Get out!¡± I cried.

    Donavon sat up, but didn¡¯t leave my bed. ¡°Tal, please, let¡¯s talk about this,¡± he pleaded.

    I shot up and scrambled to lean against the wall. Shadows danced across his features and a thin strip of moonlight illuminated his shiny blue eyes. Hot anger coursed through my veins, and the urge to attack him was too strong to suppress. My hand shot out and I slapped him across his face. Donavon didn¡¯t raise a finger to defend himself. His complacent demeanor infuriated me further, and I balled my fists and pounded on his chest, sobbing hysterically.

    When my blows slowed, Donavon wrapped his fingers around my wrists and pulled me to him.

    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, Talia, I¡¯m so sorry,¡± he repeated over and over again.

    Donavon let me cry until my wails gave way to hiccups and my breath came in ragged gasps. My head spun even as I buried my face in his shirt. Though my cries had subsided, I still couldn¡¯t breathe right; my chest felt so tight, and a searing pain accompanied every breath. The trembling in my arms and legs became worse instead of better. The rigidness left my muscles and I sagged against Donavon, a violently quaking puddle of limbs. Then my jaw clenched and air hissed through my barely parted lips.

    ¡°Tal?¡± Donavon asked in alarm.

    I couldn¡¯t answer him; I couldn¡¯t say anything. I couldn¡¯t even find the wherewithal to communicate mentally.

    ¡°Crap, crap, crap,¡± I heard Donavon chant from somewhere far away.

    My vision and hearing were fading fast, and I knew that I would soon be unconscious. Terrified, I scratched weakly at his t-shirt, willing him to understand that I was having a seizure, and I needed him to call Dr. Thistler.

    The message must¡¯ve gotten through because I heard him screaming into my communicator seconds later.

    ¡°Dad! Dad! You have to get down here¡ªit¡¯s Talia! She¡¯s convulsing. I think she¡¯s having a seizure!¡±

    Then his lips were next to my ear, and my head knocked against his as the spasms racked through my body.

    ¡°Hold on, Tal. Help is coming,¡± he promised. "Just hold on."

 Chapter Sixty: The One with the Talent Demonstration

    Mac must have been close because the door to my room burst open several minutes later. Mac, Dr. Thistler, and Janet rushed inside. Mac pried me from his son¡¯s arms, shoved Donavon aside, and laid me flat on the bed, pinning me against the mattress as I thrashed uncontrollably. Dr. Thistler tore the sleeve back from my arm and wasted no time plunging the needle into my exposed vein. The moment the drugs hit my bloodstream, the shaking slowed. Mac stroked my sweaty hair back from my forehead, and I relaxed into the blankets.

    ¡°You¡¯re okay, now,¡± he soothed.

    I still couldn¡¯t talk, but I managed to bob my head up and down. Mac wrapped his large hands around mine, rubbing back and forth to calm the lingering tremors. I closed my eyes, exhausted.

    ¡°Natalia, are you hurt?¡± he asked, holding up one of my hands.

    Hurt? Like besides the seizure? I wondered.

    ¡°It¡¯s not her blood, Dad,¡± Donavon answered quietly.

    Blood? I thought, managing to muster enough strength to lift my eyelids. Sure enough, the fingernails of the hand Mac was examining were stained red. I looked from my bloody hands to Donavon; the front of his shirt was torn, and long scratches ran the length of his neck and chest. One of his cheeks was slightly darker than the other, where I¡¯d slapped him.

    ¡°Did I do that?¡± I stammered, tripping over the words.

    Mac, Janet, and Dr. Thistler exchanged worried glances, but Donavon¡¯s sympathetic eyes stay focused on me. No one answered my question.

    ¡°Donavon, go change,¡± his father ordered.

    ¡°Someone should stay with Talia tonight,¡± he replied, keeping his feet firmly rooted in place.

    ¡°She should go to Medical, so I can observe her,¡± Dr. Thistler said pointedly.

    ¡°No,¡± I moaned in protest. The only thing that I wanted less than having an overnight babysitter was having a sleepover in the hospital.

    ¡°She¡¯ll be more comfortable here. I¡¯ll stay with her,¡± Donavon answered evenly, boldly meeting Dr. Thistler¡¯s gaze. Like his father, Donavon was physically imposing. As he rose to his full height, haughtily crossing his arms over his torn shirt and pinning her with a gaze that was pure ice, I realized just how much like Mac he really was. Dr. Thistler must have realized it too, because she pursed her thin lips and gave Donavon a disapproving look; but then she took several steps back and didn¡¯t argue further.

    Mac¡¯s expression was neutral, but I could feel his displeasure. Donavon tore his eyes from Dr. Thistler, and the warm baby-blue color was back when he fixed them on me. He silently pleaded with me to tell them that he could stay. The doctor might have cowered under his stare, but his father would not. If I insisted on spending the night in my room with Donavon there to watch me, Mac might agree. Truthfully, I wanted to spend the night in my own room alone, but I knew that option wasn¡¯t on the table.

    ¡°I want Donavon to stay with me,¡± I said, the words sounding garbled and nearly unintelligible since I was still trying to regain control of my muscles.

    Mac, Janet, and Dr. Thistler exchanged more uneasy glances.

    ¡°Fine, but you have to sleep,¡± Mac finally agreed.

    He needn¡¯t worry about that; between my seizure and Donavon¡¯s admission, I was barely able to stay awake.

    Dr. Thistler made me promise to go straight to sleep and check in with her in the morning. Mac tucked me under the covers and said a quick goodnight. Janet leaned down and kissed me on the forehead before following the other two out of the room.

    Donavon walked with them to close my door once they¡¯d gone.

    ¡°Don¡¯t,¡± Mac told his son in a voice so low that I knew he hadn¡¯t meant for me to hear. Donavon threw me a look over his shoulder, indecision and sorrow warring in his mind.

    ¡°I won¡¯t,¡± he said to his father in the same barely audible whisper. Then he shut my bedroom door in Mac¡¯s face.

    I was too tired to care what Mac didn¡¯t want his son to do; I had a couple of guesses, all of them embarrassing for me. Donavon discussing our personal interactions with his father was so not something that I wanted to know about. Given that Mac had found his son in my bedroom late at night, his mind must have jumped to the logical conclusion, but that he¡¯d felt the need to expressly warn him not to touch me after I¡¯d had a seizure was more than I could handle.

    Donavon didn¡¯t get back into bed. Instead he sat on the floor next to it, leaning against the wall. He propped his elbows on bent knees and rested his face on upturned palms. Tentatively, I reached for one of his hands. He wound his fingers through mine, but refused to face me.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I whispered. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to claw you.¡± Gingerly, I touched the raised scratches on his neck; he didn¡¯t even flinch as I ran my finger over the wounds. The marks were extremely thin and felt more like they¡¯d been made by a cat¡¯s claws, rather than human fingernails.

    ¡°I¡¯m the one who¡¯s sorry, Tal. I know how badly I hurt you, and now I¡¯ve given you seizures, too.¡± He sounded close to tears.

    ¡°The seizure wasn¡¯t your fault,¡± I assured him, although it kind of was. ¡°I helped with that Hunters¡¯ demonstration today even though Dr. Thistler told me not to physically exert myself. And then everything with Ernest. So when you said . . . well, you know, it was just too much. I overreacted.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry,¡± he repeated; and when he finally turned to face me, tears were streaming down his cheeks. ¡°I never meant to hurt you. I love you.¡±

    Just like I¡¯d known that he was lying earlier, I knew that he was telling the truth now. Donavon did love me; and if he could take back what had happened with Kandice, I knew that he would. Unfortunately, he couldn¡¯t¡ªand he also couldn¡¯t make me trust him again. I did still have feelings for him and maybe even still loved him in a way, but I wasn¡¯t sure that it was enough.

    Luckily, I didn¡¯t have to make any decisions tonight. In my weakened condition, that was probably for the best.

    ¡°I know, Donavon,¡± I replied quietly, raising our joined hands to my cheek. ¡°I know.¡±

    ***

    The next morning, I woke tightly wrapped up in Donavon¡¯s arms; at some point during the night, he¡¯d climbed into bed with me. The memory of my seizure washed over me when I saw the angry red lines marring Donavon¡¯s throat.

    ¡°Hey, you,¡± he whispered when he felt my eyes on him. ¡°How are you feeling this morning?¡±

    ¡°Okay.¡± I smiled weakly. ¡°Tired, mostly,¡± I added.

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you sleep a little longer?¡± he asked, his brows knitting together with concern.

    ¡°I can¡¯t,¡± I sighed. ¡°I have to go to Medical before I help the Captain.¡± I pushed the covers back.

    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Are you sure that¡¯s a good idea?¡± he asked, fingering his torn t-shirt.

    ¡°No, but I¡¯m so tired of these seizures controlling my life. I just want things to be as normal as possible,¡± I said, frustrated.

    ¡°I know, Tal,¡± he soothed, running the back of his hand down my cheek.

    ¡°What are you doing today?¡± I asked, shrugging away from his touch.

    Donavon let his hand fall. ¡°Helping Dad,¡± he said, rolling onto his back and twining his fingers behind his head.

    I crawled over him to get out of bed and started toward the bathroom.

    ¡°Want to meet me for dinner?¡± he called after me.

    I turned the cold water faucet on and began brushing my teeth to give me time to make a decision. Did I want to have dinner with him? Before my seizure, I¡¯d briefly hated him, but the way that he¡¯d held and comforted me and kept me conscious during the episode made me not hate him at all. He¡¯d sat on the floor for most of the night just to make sure I was okay.

    I returned my tooth brush to the medicine cabinet and turned off the water. Peeking my head back into my bedroom, I answered, ¡°Sure, I¡¯d like that.¡±

    Leaving Donavon lounging in my room, I set off for Medical. Dr. Thistler told me that she was increasing the dosage of the equalizer, again, then made me promise that I would refrain from over stimulating myself in the future. I cringed when I read between the lines and caught her not-so-subtle meaning. Like Mac, she assumed that physical contact had precipitated my seizure¡­intimate physical contact.

    Too humiliated to ask about Ernest, and resigning myself to a life of celibacy, I slid quietly off the hospital bed and left to promptly break the promise that I¡¯d just made. I jogged to the cafeteria in hopes of finding something left over since I¡¯d missed breakfast. Luck must have been on my side that morning; there were baskets of assorted muffins and bagels alongside jams and flavored butters. I quickly buttered a plain muffin with cinnamon spread and happily munched on it while I walked to meet Captain Alvarez.

    Today¡¯s demonstration would take place in the open-air Arena. An obstacle course had been set up, complete with holographic bad guys.

    When I arrived, Captain Alvarez, Henri, and Erik were already there. I stuffed the remaining crumbs of the muffin into my mouth and waved a greeting. Captain Alvarez told me to get ready as the students began trickling into the Arena. I dressed in an adapti-suit just like the day before. The suits are a dark green color; but when an individual¡¯s body heat triggers the camouflaging mechanism, the suits blend in with, and adapt to, their surroundings.

    Inside, the suit¡¯s covering is enough to protect the feet of the wearer; but since it doesn¡¯t provide sufficient cushioning outside, I pulled on knee-high boots made of the same material as the suit. Next, I threaded a black belt holding eight small hand knives through the loops around my hips. I zipped the suit up to my neck, but left the hood down since it would be unnecessary for a training exercise. Erik and Henri were dressed almost identically, except for their weapons; two long blades crisscrossed Erik¡¯s back, and Henri had a long rifle with a scope slung over one shoulder.

    Captain Alvarez was busy explaining to the assembled students what they were about to see. Overnight, the outside Arena had been transformed to include very real looking¡ªalbeit fake¡ªtrees, rope swings, bridges, and platforms. Approximately twenty flags had been placed throughout the Arena, and the goal was to collect as many as possible in a given amount of time. The holograms would be on motion sensors, triggered when one of us tripped an alarm.

    When Captain Alvarez finished speaking, he turned and gave us a slight nod. I held one hand out to Erik and one hand out to Henri. Each took hold and I closed my eyes, concentrating on both of their thoughts. Erik¡¯s mental voice filled my head first, but Henri¡¯s was only seconds behind. It took several more seconds before all three of our minds were linked. I released each of their hands and we entered the Arena.

    ¡°Natalia, right. Erik, left. I¡¯ll take center,¡± Henri said, falling into his role as team captain.

    ¡°Got it,¡± Erik answered.

    ¡°Ditto,¡± I sent.

    I, of course, managed to trip the first sensor. The hologram appeared ten feet in front of me. I didn¡¯t hesitate: I reached for my belt, grabbed one of my knives, and the dagger found its mark, the hologram disappearing as quickly as it had materialized.

    ¡°Okay, Tal?¡± Henri asked.

    ¡°Yup,¡± I confirmed.

    ¡°Got a flag,¡± Erik interjected.

    ¡°Show-off,¡± I teased.

    Carefully, I navigated my way through the next few areas of the obstacle course. I kept my eyes alert, dimming my other senses since it was not as though I would hear a hologram. I managed to uncover several flags of my own, in addition to scoring a number of points by defeating more holograms. Erik and Henri were both still working their way through their own paths. I came to a climbing wall with a thick rope dangling down the center with hand and foot holds off to each side. I decided to go for the rope. Approximately a third of the way up, I tripped another sensor. The hologram appeared on my right. I had only two knives left on my belt and didn¡¯t want to waste them by throwing one from that distance and risk missing. I planted both feet on the wall and shoved as hard as I could. I swung towards the hologram at an alarming pace. I didn¡¯t want to collide with it if it could be avoided; the holograms didn¡¯t hurt exactly, but they gave you a strong and unpleasant shock when you made physical contact.

    I struck out with the knife, releasing it from the handle when I was just inches away, and plunged it into the hologram¡¯s chest. The hologram disappeared, and my body collided at full speed with the side of the climbing wall. The force of the impact made me groan.

    ¡°What happened, Talia?¡± Henri¡¯s mental voice was full of concern.

    ¡°Nothing. I¡¯m fine,¡± I grunted in reply.

    ¡°Get to the top of that wall and let¡¯s end this in style,¡± Erik sent.

    Grabbing one of the handholds in the wall, I released the rope. I scurried up the remaining two-thirds as quickly as I dared. The top was smooth and hard to grip, and my fingers strained as I scrambled to pull myself up and over the wall.

    ¡°Tals, be ready to jump in five,¡± Eric¡¯s voice said, urging me on.

    Hoisting myself the last couple of inches, I was finally able to pull my entire body onto the narrow ledge. From this vantage point, I could see the entire obstacle course. I saw Erik and Henri crouching down on one knee, and I waited for what I knew was coming. Both boys morphed simultaneously into large black birds with beautiful iridescent feathers and long slender beaks. One bird soared over the stands of the Arena where the students were sitting. The other bird, Erik, flew toward where I stood on the top of the wall. I closed my eyes¡ªI hated heights¡ªand focused on my hearing and sense of touch, listening for the quiet flapping of Erik¡¯s wings and feeling for the slight disturbance in the air that would signal his arrival.

    I crouched when I heard the wings and closed my eyes tightly in preparation to jump. Judging him to be approximately two feet out from the wall and one foot below, I leapt. I landed on my knees between Erik¡¯s wing joints. Not the most graceful landing, but hey, at least I hadn¡¯t missed! Rolling onto my stomach, I wrapped my arms around the bird¡¯s neck. We flew to meet Henri and circled the Arena, flying side by side. Finally, and not a minute too soon in my opinion, we landed on the top level of the stands. I quickly jumped off Erik¡¯s back, thankful to have my own two feet back on the ground. The two giant birds disappeared before my eyes, and Erik and Henri materialized in their place.

    When I looked down, the crowd was going wild, amazement written all over their faces. I waved and smiled alongside Erik and Henri.

    ¡°Show-offs,¡± I teased them even though I, too, was basking in the praise of the students.

    ¡°You miss it, don¡¯t pretend,¡± Erik joked back. He was right; I did miss being part of their team. Not so much the flying, though; no matter how many times I did it, I never got used to riding on Erik in bird form.

    ¡°You were amazing.¡± I smiled as Donavon¡¯s voice filled my head.

    ¡°Where are you?¡± I called to him.

    ¡°To your right. Down. Down. Now more to the right,¡± he instructed. I finally spotted him, sitting in the stands with Mac. I waved and felt warmth spread through me.

    ¡°Excuse me,¡± I said out loud to Erik and Henri, who were still relishing in the attention of the admiring students. I made my way down to where Donavon and Mac sat.

    ¡°Not bad for someone who is out of practice, Natalia,¡± Mac greeted me with a backhanded compliment.

    ¡°Thank you, I think,¡± I responded, not really sure what else to say. ¡°What are you doing here?¡±

    ¡°I wanted to check out this Baker girl. After all, I did agree to devote one of my best resources to her training. Besides, when Donavon told me that you were defying Dr. Thistler¡¯s advice, I wanted to be present in case you had another episode.¡±

    I flushed guiltily and shot Donavon a withering glare.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± he sent, shrugging apologetically.

    Just then, Captain Alvarez joined us. ¡°Director, Donavon, good of you to come,¡± he smiled pleasantly at the father and son duo.

    ¡°I am just here to observe, but by all means put Donavon to work,¡± Mac replied.

    ¡°Donavon, head on down and Henri will give you a station to man. You too, Natalia,¡± Captain Alvarez suggested.

    ¡°Actually, I would prefer that Natalia observe with me,¡± Mac answered before I had a chance to comply. ¡°After all, she has done background on the students and had a chance to observe them yesterday. I would really like to hear her thoughts.¡± I knew that Mac thought a lot of my Talents, even if he was convinced that I¡¯d been unfocused lately. However, he¡¯d never really treated me like a peer, never asked for my opinion; Mac was more of the type to give you your opinion. I¡¯d thought that his concession to let me work with Kenly had been his usual indulgence of my unorthodox requests¡ªbut maybe, just maybe, he respected my opinion enough to stand behind my decision.

    ¡°Of course, Director.¡± Captain Alvarez smiled. ¡°I¡¯m sure that she¡¯ll have some great insights.¡±

 Chapter Sixty-One: The One with the Treasonous Letter

    For the rest of the afternoon, I followed Mac around with my communicator answering questions on each and every student present. I noted the kids that he wanted to pay extra attention to¡ªthose whose Talents appeared stronger than reported in their files. For my own personal interest, I also made notes on those with weaker-than-reported Talents.

    In accordance with the Mandatory Testing Act, every child was tested at the age of five for the presence of paranormal abilities. Each child testing positive was given an initial Talent ranking: High, Medium, or Low. During Placement Exams each student would receive a more precise Talent ranking: Elite, Extremely High, High, Medium, Medium-Low, Low, or Extremely-Low.

    Admittedly, the initial rankings were extremely broad. I was perplexed by the number of students whose powers were weak when their initial ranking had been High. The ones who were initially ranked Low or Medium but now exhibited higher levels of abilities seemed more normal to me. After eleven years of training and honing their Talents, it made sense that they would be stronger than the Agency initially thought.

    Mac already knew some of the student bios by heart, the ones with particularly strong Talents. He also seemed to know many of them personally, making small talk while we made our rounds. When it came time to observe Kenly, I held my breath. She wasn¡¯t the worst combatant, but she appeared slow and uncoordinated compared to the others.

    ¡°You sure have your work cut out for you, Natalia,¡± Mac commented after she¡¯d completed several of the obstacles. I smiled thinly in return; I didn¡¯t want to press my luck and say something that might make Mac change his mind about allowing me to work with her.

    ¡°Thank you all for coming,¡± Captain Alvarez¡¯s voice boomed throughout the Arena. ¡°I hope that the past few days have been as helpful for all you students as they have been for us. I look forward to seeing all of you during Placement Exams at the end of the year.¡± With that, Captain Alvarez dismissed the kids from the day¡¯s demonstration.

    ¡°I¡¯ll see you later, Mac,¡± I called over my shoulder as I hurried to catch up with the departing crowd.

    I¡¯d only made it a couple of feet when long fingers closed around my wrist. Startled, I swiveled around to face Erik.

    ¡°Hey,¡± he began uneasily.

    ¡°Hey,¡± I responded, glancing around nervously. I wasn¡¯t sure what to say to Erik after everything that had happened with Donavon the previous night.

    ¡°I¡¯m leaving tonight . . . I was hoping that we could talk before I go?¡± Erik¡¯s thoughts were unguarded, and his longing to spend time with me made my chest ache and butterflies swarm in my stomach.

    ¡°I can¡¯t, Erik,¡± I said, yanking my wrist free from his grasp. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± I wanted to spend time with him too, and I wanted to touch him so badly that my hands twitched at the thought of feeling his skin underneath my fingertips. But Erik had called me his ¡°friend¡±; and also, after my reaction to Donavon¡¯s admission about Kandice, I knew that I wasn¡¯t over him.

    I didn¡¯t know what I wanted, but I did know that Erik was leaving to go back to Headquarters. He was going back to his real life, and he couldn¡¯t be there for me in the way that I needed right now¡ªthe way that Donavon could, the way that he had been last night. Erik was patently immature and sarcastic; and even if he took back his claim that we were just friends, I doubted that he¡¯d want me if he witnessed one of my seizures. Not that I blamed him¡ªI wouldn¡¯t either.

    I shoved my longing aside, willed my pulse to slow, and bit my lip to keep the tears back. Slowly, I turned and walked away from Erik, who let me leave without so much as a word of protest, though his eyes bored through my back and pierced my heart.

    Once I was safely outside the Arena, away from Erik, I searched the throng of congregated students for Kenly. Thankfully, her height made her easy to spot in the crowd; she was standing with a group of girls huddled off to one side.

    ¡°Kenly,¡± I called as I approached.

    She turned her head to locate the person calling her name. When her eyes landed on me, she smiled.

    ¡°Hey, Ms. Lyons,¡± she called back, raising one thin arm in a friendly wave.

    ¡°It¡¯s Talia, and could I talk to you for a minute?¡±

    ¡°Um, sure.¡± She glanced around at the gaggle of girls and nodded, indicating that they should leave.

    ¡°So, you want to try out for the Hunters?¡± I began once her friends were a safe distance away.

    ¡°Yeah. I know that it¡¯s a long shot, but I really want to be a Hunter, like my father,¡± she answered, bobbing her head so vigorously that her brown locks bounced up and down on her shoulders.

    ¡°Placement Exams are coming up pretty soon and you would need a lot of work to be ready,¡± I prompted, attempting to gauge her level of commitment. I knew from watching her that she had heart; but if she were going to be a real contender, she needed focus and determination as well.

    ¡°I know. I¡¯ve been practicing after school.¡±

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    ¡°How would you like some help? I¡¯ve asked the Director for permission to help you train.¡± Kenly¡¯s brown eyes lit up like a Festivis Day firework.

    ¡°Really? You would do that for me?¡± She seemed shocked that I was taking such an interest in her future.

    ¡°Well, yeah. If you want,¡± I added.

    ¡°Why?¡± she whispered.

    ¡°Why, what?¡±

    ¡°Why would you want to help me? I¡¯m not that good, and the chances that I¡¯ll actually make the Hunters are low.¡±

    Why did I want to help Kenly? She was right; her placing high enough for the committee to select her for the Hunters was against the odds. And it wasn¡¯t like I didn¡¯t have enough to worry about without the added pressure of someone else¡¯s career on my shoulders.

    ¡°Because you remind me of someone,¡± I finally answered.

    ¡°Who?¡±

    ¡°Me.¡±

    Kenly beamed. ¡°I would love for you to help me.¡±

    We made plans to start our sessions after school the next day. Now I just needed to figure out exactly how I was going to accomplish this monumental task, how I was going to teach Kenly everything that I¡¯d learned over the course of six years in just three months.

    ***

    That evening, I arrived at Donavon¡¯s room with dinner in hand. He opened the door just as I raised my hand to knock. He was wearing only black pants and a black belt, his chest bare and his shaggy hair still a little damp. I swallowed the lump in my throat.

    ¡°Hi,¡± I stammered.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know that we were picnicking for dinner,¡± he gestured to the bag that I held.

    ¡°I thought that it would be more fun if it was just us.¡± He gave me a skeptical look. ¡°Besides I hate the cafeteria,¡± I said quickly. Truthfully, I was avoiding Erik.

    Donavon opened the door wider, and I brushed past him into the room. He caught my arm, and I turned to meet his clear blue eyes. He leaned down just as I rose to stand on my tiptoes, and our lips met in the middle. Dropping the paper bag holding our dinner, I wrapped both of my arms around his neck. I willed the door shut and heard it slam in response.

    The air seemed to rush out of the room with the closing of the door. Penny¡¯s voice filled my head, and I inwardly sighed. What was I doing? I pushed lightly on Donavon¡¯s shirtless chest.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± he said, not sounding sorry at all.

    ¡°I just don¡¯t know what¡¯s really going on between us,¡± I started to ramble.

    ¡°You don¡¯t need to say anything, Tal.¡± He gave me a genuine smile. ¡°Let¡¯s eat. I¡¯m starving.¡± I picked up the paper bag and withdrew two sandwiches, each with thick slabs of turkey, smothered in a creamy cranberry mayo on cornbread. I spread out napkins on the floor while Donavon watched hungrily.

    ¡°Please put on a shirt,¡± I mumbled.

    ¡°Am I distracting you?¡± he teased.

    ¡°No, it¡¯s unhygienic to eat without clothes on,¡± I shot back. Even to my own ears, my voice sounded unconvincing. The look he gave me told me that he didn¡¯t believe me either, but he turned and began rummaging through his closet in search of a shirt.

    ¡°There are drinks in that mini cooler under the night table behind you,¡± he said, his back to me. I turned around, opened the cooler, and fished out two bottles of water.

    ¡°Any chance you have salt? I forgot to pick some up,¡± I said, sheepishly.

    ¡°Um, yeah. In my desk drawer there are probably some packets,¡± he called over his shoulder.

    I slid open his desk drawer and began searching for salt. I found several packets mingled with the loose papers and pencils clogging the interior. I fumbled to retrieve all of the loose packets, and my fingers brushed over a glossy surface¡ªa picture. I pulled the photograph free from the mess; it was of a child, maybe a year old with shaggy blonde hair and oversized sunglasses, sitting on a lawn.

    ¡°Aww, you¡¯re so cute in this picture!¡± I exclaimed. Smiling, I turned to show Donavon the photograph in my hand. My grin faded when I took in Donavon¡¯s tense expression. A trickle of fear leaked from his mind before he sent up his mental barricades.

    ¡°Um, yeah, thanks,¡± he replied tightly.

    I started to say something else, but Donavon¡¯s eyes had gone dark and icy in a Mac-worthy glare. His expression unnerved me. Weird, I thought, quickly snapping my mouth shut. He turned back to his closet, making a show of noisily searching through the handful of shirts that hung there.

    Not wanting to upset him further, I quickly replaced the picture in the desk drawer where I¡¯d found it. When I tried to push the drawer back into place, something prevented it from closing completely. I wiggled it, attempting to free the hindrance, but the drawer still wouldn¡¯t shut. I pulled it back out on the runners and felt around in the back to locate the impediment. My fingers closed around a tightly folded wad of paper, and I yanked it free.

    When I withdrew my arm and opened my palm, my blood froze in my veins. My next breath hitched in my throat, and my stomach twisted with terror.

    My mind flashed to Henri placing a tightly folded piece of paper in my hand and folding my fingers around the edges...the same piece of paper that I now held. I had to bite my lip to keep from crying out when I saw the dark stains obscuring my own neatly printed name. The blood, my blood, flaked off of the page and into my palm. A thousand thoughts raced through my head. Why did Donavon have Erik¡¯s letter? Why was he keeping it stuffed in the back of his desk? How did he get it in the first place?

    ¡°Did you find salt?¡± Donavon asked, pulling a white t-shirt over his head.

    My mind swam with warring thoughts. Should I confront him? I quickly decided not to; I needed more time to process the situation. I shoved the wad into the back pocket of my jeans.

    ¡°Salt? Yeah, I did,¡± I said, trying to keep my voice even. Hastily, I slammed the drawer shut with my mind. Donavon turned around to face me once again, and his eyes had returned to the warm blue of a clear sky, all traces of his earlier annoyance gone.

    Managing a weak smile, I held one of the sandwiches out to Donavon. He accepted it and quickly began eating. I slowly chewed the first few bites of turkey and bread, not really tasting the contents, but managing to swallow them all the same. Thankfully, Donavon seemed so distracted that he didn¡¯t notice my own mental wandering.

    Trying to dispel the awkwardness in the room, I began making small talk about the various students from the demonstration, and watched as the tension visibly dissipated from Donavon. Once he seemed relaxed, I took a chance and reached out to his mind, but his thoughts were all on what we were talking about. Well, not ALL of them, but the ones that weren¡¯t made me blush, so I quickly retreated into my own head.

    After we ate, I cleaned up our little picnic and hugged Donavon goodbye. When he bent to kiss me, I turned my head and his lips brushed my cheek instead. He barely hid his disappointment over my rebuff. Right then, I didn¡¯t care about Donavon¡¯s feelings. The only thing that mattered was the letter currently burning a hole in the pocket of my jeans¡ªa desperate reminder that I had to see Erik before he left.

    The words on those pages verged on treason. The accusations that he¡¯d made would guarantee him a horrible fate, particularly if they were true. And somehow, I¡¯d let them fall into the hands of the Director¡¯s son. If Erik got in trouble, it would be my fault; any further bloodshed would be on my hands.

 Chapter Sixty-Two: The One with the Mimics Origin Story

    Panic, bordering on hysteria, gripped my lungs as I ran across campus to the hover hangar. Erik and Henri were loading bags onto a TOXIC jet when I breathlessly crossed the threshold. Erik looked up as I approached and waved. Despite the dire reason I¡¯d come, I felt my heart skip a beat and my stomach flutter. The smile that lit up his face fell when he picked up on my emotional state.

    ¡°I thought you might not come,¡± he called, crossing the cement floor to where I stood.

    ¡°Erik, I need to talk to you,¡± I panted, disregarding his greeting.

    Henri had followed Erik over and now stood next to him. ¡°I¡¯ll leave you two to say goodbye,¡± he offered, looking awkwardly between my red, sweaty face and Erik¡¯s distraught expression. Henri gave me a quick hug and peck on the cheek before retreating.

    Erik rested his hands on my shoulders, and I could feel the heat of his skin through my sweater. His turquoise eyes sparkled sadly, and I knew that he¡¯d read my thoughts.

    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, Erik,¡± I whispered.

    ¡°I always knew that you would never get over him,¡± he said regretfully, as if I hadn¡¯t spoken. ¡°I suppose it¡¯s hard to say no to a guy who nearly died for you,¡± Erik continued.

    I was so confused that I momentarily forgot the reason that I¡¯d nearly torn a hamstring in my haste to get to the hangar.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think that willingly risking his life for me and me nearly killing him because I lost control are the same thing,¡± I said slowly, still trying to figure out what the hell Erik was talking about.

    ¡°Huh?¡± Erik sounded confused now. ¡°What are you talking about?¡±

    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± I countered.

    ¡°Nevada,¡± he said slowly.

    I stared at him blankly, my brain apparently too slow to fit the pieces of the puzzle together. What did Donavon, Nevada, and me nearly dying have in common?

    ¡°When the extraction team found you in Nevada, you¡¯d lost so much blood that they didn¡¯t think you were going to make it,¡± Erik started to explain. I mentally urged him to continue. I knew all of this, but had no idea what it had to do with Donavon. ¡°Well, there was only so much blood on the plane, and the Medics were unable to stop your bleeding.¡± He seemed hesitant to continue; his words were halted.

    ¡°Okay . . . and what does this have to do with Donavon?¡± I demanded.

    ¡°Donavon was part of the extraction team,¡± he said, eyeing me cautiously. ¡°You didn¡¯t know that?¡± he guessed.

    ¡°No,¡± I whispered. ¡°I didn¡¯t.¡± Mac had left that detail out when he¡¯d filled in my memory gaps. And apparently, when Donavon said that he¡¯d never lie to me again and that I could trust him, he¡¯d conveniently forgotten about this.

    ¡°Get to the part about Donavon nearly dying,¡± I hissed through clenched teeth.

    Erik grimaced, and I almost felt bad since my anger wasn¡¯t directed at him.

    ¡°Well, when the Medics used all of the blood on the craft and you still needed more, Donavon insisted on giving you his. So, the Medics gave you a direct transfusion. Donavon gave you so much blood that he had to be carried off of the plane when it finally landed in Kansas.¡± Erik looked miserable, like it physically pained him to admit that Donavon had done something so noble.

    ¡°How do you know this?¡± I asked, fighting the hysteria rising in my chest. Why had no one told me? Why had Donavon not told me?

    ¡°I arrived in Kansas a couple of hours after you did. The Director was screaming at Donavon, saying that he shouldn¡¯t have done it. He kept telling Donavon that he screwed up and that you would have made it to Kansas, where there was more blood, already filtered and cleaned, to give you.¡±

    ¡°Why was it such a big deal? Why was Mac so mad?¡± I asked, more to myself than to Erik. All Operatives were routinely checked for diseases and illnesses; Donavon would¡¯ve known if he was sick. Surely he wouldn¡¯t have given me his blood if he knew that it was tainted.

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s against protocol; but in extreme circumstances, I¡¯m sure that it¡¯s happened before,¡± Erik said. ¡°All I know is the Director was so furious that he made Donavon leave immediately. Donavon said he wanted to make sure that you were okay, but the Director told him he¡¯d already done enough.¡±

    ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t Donavon tell me?¡± I asked, voicing the million dollar question.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, Tal. I¡¯m sorry that I told you. I figured you already knew.¡±

    I shook my head, no longer trusting myself to speak.

    ¡°Erik, we need to go,¡± Henri called from inside the craft.

    ¡°Tal, I¡¯m so sorry. I wouldn¡¯t have said anything if I knew that you didn¡¯t know.¡± He wiped his thumb under my left eye and across my left cheek, smearing the tear that had spilled over. He bent down and kissed my cheek, his lips warm against my cool, damp skin.

    ¡°I¡¯ll see you soon, Tal,¡± he whispered, his breath tickling my ear. He turned and started to walk toward the open plane door.

    I shoved my hands in my back pockets to still the shaking, and my fingers closed around Erik¡¯s letter. I called out to him, ¡°Erik! Wait!¡±

    He turned slowly, hope filling his features. I hated that what I was about to say would once again wipe that expression off his face.

    ¡°Donavon had your letter.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± he demanded, closing the space between us faster than I¡¯d have thought possible. He grabbed my upper arms, his fingers digging painfully into my flesh. ¡°What did you say?¡± His crazed expression terrified me; I¡¯d seen that look before, and nothing good could come of it.

    ¡°I-I-I was in his room, looking for salt; and I found it, stuffed in the back of his desk,¡± I whimpered.

    ¡°When?¡± Erik demanded.

    ¡°Just now, before I came here,¡± I whispered. Erik¡¯s grip on me tightened and I cried out, sure that my arms would be tie-dyed black and blue tomorrow. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry,¡± I sobbed. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean for him¡ªfor anybody to find it. I was reading it in Nevada when I thought I was dying.¡±

    ¡°So he¡¯s had it for what, ten months now?¡± Erik asked, more to himself than me.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. The last time I saw it before tonight was right before I passed out. When it wasn¡¯t listed with my personal effects, I assumed that it had been burned when the extraction team sanitized the woods where they found me,¡± I explained.

    Finally, Erik released me; I swayed unsteadily without him holding me up. He reached for me again, but this time he wrapped his arms around me and crushed my body to his. I relaxed into his embrace, circling my own arms around his waist.

    ¡°Shit, Tal, I¡¯m sorry. I didn¡¯t mean to hurt you,¡± he murmured into my hair. ¡°I¡¯m not mad at you; it¡¯s not your fault,¡± he promised.

    ¡°Erik! We really need to go,¡± Henri called. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Tal,¡± he added.

    ¡°I¡¯ll call you when I get back,¡± he promised. ¡°We¡¯ll talk about it then.¡±

    Nodding, I reluctantly disentangled myself from his arms. But we both knew that we wouldn¡¯t actually be able to talk about it over the communicators; the Agency monitored them too closely.

    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry,¡± I croaked again. Erik reached for my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, then quickly brushed his mouth against mine. When he tried to pull away, I instinctively grabbed the back of his neck and kissed him deeper. Erik¡¯s lips quirked into a grin as his hands closed around my waist. Even though Erik had kissed me numerous times before, the thrill that I felt now was just as intense as it had been the first time.

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    The feel of his mouth against mine was familiar and intoxicating, causing my head to spin. I lost awareness of the surrounding hangar. He crushed my hips against his, and I tangled my fingers in his thick hair.

    When Erik broke the connection, I physically ached at the absence of his touch. He beamed, warmth and passion radiating from his every pore. His fingertips brushed the hollow of my throat in an oddly intimate gesture that nearly sent me melting to the concrete. Then with a tremendous amount of effort, Erik turned and jogged to the open plane door.

    I stood rooted in my place until the electric engines of the craft came to life. I turned and walked slowly from the hangar. The night air was cool and I hugged myself, fighting off the cold air and the confusion at the same time. Why wouldn¡¯t Donavon have told me? Why was it such a big deal? Why hadn¡¯t Mac told me? Why had Mac reacted like that? I felt like I¡¯d somehow been lied to, betrayed. Was an omission really a lie?

    Opening my mind as wide as I could, I searched for Donavon. I focused all of my energy on pinpointing his location; he was at his parents¡¯ house. I contemplated going up there, but then decided it against it. Confronting Donavon was one thing, but confronting Mac was another. Instead, I walked to the Crypto Bank to find Penny; maybe she could make sense out of all of this.

    ***

    When I arrived, Penny and Gemma were in their usual positions. Penny¡¯s smile froze when she saw me.

    ¡°Talia! What¡¯s wrong?¡± she cried.

    ¡°Can you access medical records?¡± I asked quietly.

    ¡°Whose medical records?¡± she asked, looking confused.

    ¡°Donavon¡¯s,¡± I answered firmly. There must be something wrong with Donavon, something wrong with his blood, something that he¡¯d passed on to me. It was the only reason that Mac would¡¯ve been so mad.

    ¡°No,¡± Penny said slowly. ¡°I can¡¯t. I¡¯m sorry, Tal.¡± Penny glanced to where Gemma sat, headphones covering her ears, and looked relieved that she couldn¡¯t hear my demands.

    ¡°Well, then, how about mine?¡± I pressed.

    ¡°Talia, I can¡¯t access anyone¡¯s medical records. They¡¯re not kept in the same e-files as the rest of your information. Those records are kept in the Medical facility. My clearance isn¡¯t that high. What¡¯s this about?¡±

    ¡°Did you know that the Medics who rescued me gave me Donavon¡¯s unfiltered blood?¡± I asked bluntly.

    ¡°No. Who told you that?¡± she demanded.

    ¡°Erik. He said that when he arrived in Kansas, Mac and Donavon were fighting about it. Mac said that he shouldn¡¯t have done it, that it was dangerous. Did I catch something from Donavon? Is that what¡¯s really wrong with me?¡± I pleaded.

    ¡°Oh, Tal,¡± she whispered. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°There isn¡¯t anything that you can tell from our records?¡± She¡¯d already told me that she couldn¡¯t, but I somehow hoped that if I asked again, her answer would be different.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Talia. I really am, but there¡¯s nothing in Donavon¡¯s regular file that would tell me that about his medical history.¡±

    ¡°I think I need to go lie down,¡± I said numbly, turning to leave.

    ¡°Tal?¡± she called after me.

    ¡°Yeah?¡±

    ¡°You should probably keep your distance from Donavon until we figure this out.¡±

    I nodded in agreement.

    I walked back to my room in a state of shock. I undressed and crawled into bed in nothing but a tank top and my underwear, clenching Erik¡¯s letter, smeared with my dried blood, in my hand. The light on my communicator was blinking furiously, but I ignored it. Carefully, I unfolded the well-worn pages, and reread the words that I knew by heart.

    Natalia,

    A couple nights ago you asked about the circumstances leading to me going to the McDonough School when I was fourteen. I know that you were hurt I wouldn¡¯t share my story with you, but I¡¯ve never shared it with anybody. I¡¯ve never trusted someone enough with my secret; I¡¯ve never wanted to let anybody get that close to me.

    I¡¯m so sorry about what happened last night. I¡¯m sorry that I let things go so far with you when I¡¯ve known all along that you¡¯re still upset over Donavon. But you¡¯re right¡ªI do know how you feel about me. I¡¯ve known for a long time how you feel, maybe even before you knew it yourself. I feel the same way. You¡¯ve captivated me since the first time we met, during your placement exams. I thought that it was just a crush, an odd fascination with a girl who managed to surprise me. But the more time I spent with you, the more I began to realize that what I¡¯m feeling is so much more than a crush. I¡¯d known about Donavon and the girl¡ªher name is Kandice¡ªfor a while. I really wanted to tell you, but Henri persuaded me not to. He thought my feelings for you were clouding my judgment, and he was afraid that if I was the one to tell you, you might not have believed me. He sensed that you were starting to realize I am falling for you. I stand by my decision. I wish that you hadn¡¯t found out the way you did, but I¡¯m glad that you found out on your own. Honestly, I¡¯m not sure you would have believed it otherwise.

    I can¡¯t put into words how much it pained me to see you hurting so much, but slowly you bounced back just like I knew you would. You¡¯re a fighter. When you finally started to understand that what you¡¯re feeling for me is real, I was elated. I tried to hold back, tried to give you more time to grieve, but I was selfish. I want you, so I started something even though I know that you aren¡¯t really ready. I was jealous again when I realized that you still think about him when we¡¯re together. I want all of you for myself, and when you thought about him last night, my temper got the best of me. I said things that I can¡¯t take back, but hope you forgive me. If time is what you need, that¡¯s what I¡¯ll give you.

    You wanted to give me something that you¡¯ve never shared with anyone, and I want you to know that I don¡¯t take that lightly. I also want to share something with you that I¡¯ve never shared with anyone. Just know that once you¡¯ve read what I have to say, you might not like it¡ªor me. That¡¯s a risk I¡¯m willing to take; I honestly think that you, of all people, deserve to know. So here it goes:

    My parents are firm supporters of the movement to repeal the Talent Testing Act. Both my brothers and I were born at home instead of in a hospital because both of my parents are Talents. They were confident that at least one of us would be born Talented, and they didn¡¯t want our births on record. I¡¯m the oldest. When I was three, my parents noticed that I was able to replicate both of their abilities. It unnerved them because Mimics are so rare. They knew that the Agency would come for me if they ever found out. Both of my younger brothers also exhibited Talent at a young age, although neither is very strong. My middle brother is a mono-morph, and my youngest brother is a low-level Brain.

    We moved around a lot, staying off of TOXIC¡¯s radar. We lived mostly in rural areas and kept to ourselves. I grew up fearing the Agency and what they stood for, but as I got older, I began to think that maybe my parents were paranoid. I met a girl on one of my grocery runs when we were living in North Carolina. We became close and I got cocky. I told her all about my abilities, trying to impress her. She in turn told her parents. Days later, Agency Operatives raided our home. Ordinarily, the penalty for refusing to submit children for testing is jail time and a heavy fine. But my parents were proud and fought. My mother was killed in the raid. My father and brothers probably would¡¯ve been, too, but I knew that TOXIC hadn¡¯t come for them; they¡¯d come for me. The man in charge of the mission told me that I was in no position to bargain, but I could tell he was lying. I surrendered myself in exchange for the lives of my father and my brothers.

    Mimics are so rare and I could tell how badly he wanted me, so I called his bluff. I threatened to take my own life if he didn¡¯t agree to the terms of my deal. In the end, he agreed. I offered to go willingly to the School and take my ¡°rightful¡± place within the Agency. In return my brothers would be free to attend regular school and live normal lives, and my father wouldn¡¯t be penalized. My father and brothers now live in Raleigh and are closely monitored by Agency personnel. Under the terms of my agreement, I¡¯m not allowed to speak about what happened, visit my family, or step out of line. They¡¯ll all be executed if I violate any of these conditions.

    I¡¯ve been closely watched since my first day at School. Truthfully, I¡¯m shocked that the Agency allowed me to become a Hunter. However, my willing sacrifice¡ªand the constant vigilance of those in charge¡ªhas proven me to be a loyal Operative. I don¡¯t agree with the Mandatory Testing laws and I don¡¯t really care about the Coalition and their rebellion, but I do care about my family¡¯s well-being. If that means I have to fall in line and play my part, I will¡ªand I do.

    I told you that I¡¯d tell you all of this when you were ready to hear it. I don¡¯t really know if you are ready now, but I wanted to share something with you. I also want you to understand that the Agency isn¡¯t all that you believe it to be. There are many within it that are corrupt, and the system in general is incredibly flawed.

    You had a choice about whether to join this organization. I know that you see it as a chance to right the wrongs in your past, but just remember that the rest of us weren¡¯t given the same option. The Agency is responsible for the wrongs in my past.

    I feel the deeply buried doubt that you keep bottled up inside of you. I¡¯m not saying that you should leave the Agency or anything like that. I just want you to keep your eyes open, and hang on to that doubt. It¡¯s unlikely that Donavon is the only one who¡¯s lied to you.

    I gave this to Henri because I trust him for reasons he¡¯ll have to explain to you some day. I gave it to you now because I wanted you to have a chance to read it away from the ever-watchful electronic presence of TOXIC¡¯s prying eyes. I that know you¡¯re too curious to not read this before you return, so we can talk about it when you get back if you want to. If you don¡¯t, well, that¡¯s fine too. I hope that you¡¯ll understand how much trust it took for me to write this¡ªand even if you believe nothing I say, I hope that you won¡¯t share its contents with anybody.

    E.

    Crawling out of bed, I made my way to the bathroom. Holding Erik¡¯s words under the sink faucet, I turned the knob. Water soaked the pages, and my blood stained the clear liquid red as it swirled down the drain. After several long moments, all that remained in my fingers was a soggy mess of pulp. I wrapped the remnants in toilet paper, and flushed the bits of incriminating evidence. As I walked back to my bed, I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror over my sink. My cheeks were sunken in, the hollows under my eyes so purple they seemed to be reflecting the color of my irises.

    I¡¯d thought about Erik¡¯s letter frequently over the past several months, but actually reading his accusations in black and white once more drove home the words on those pages. I didn¡¯t know how much of what he wrote was true, but if nothing else, I was certain that Erik believed that every word he wrote was gospel. It pained me that Mac might allow such atrocities to go unchecked on his watch. I doubted that the Agency would really kill Erik¡¯s family if he slipped up¡­or did I? You have no idea what your Agency does to innocent people.

 Chapter Sixty-Three: The One with More Operative Profiles

    Removed from the situation, I was confident that even if Donavon had read the letter¡ªand I assumed he had¡ªhe hadn¡¯t shared it with his father. If there was even an iota of truth to Erik¡¯s words, he would already know if Donavon had indeed reported the note to Mac. At the very least, Erik would have been sanctioned for his bold statements. Donavon and Erik¡¯s dislike for one another ran deep, and I would¡¯ve thought that Donavon would jump at the chance to get Erik in trouble. The fact that he didn¡¯t take the opportunity was telling; I was just unsure what exactly I was being told.

    Snug under my covers once again, I closed my eyes and opened my mind. I found Donavon back in his room. Then I heard his mental voice in my head.

    ¡°You¡¯re back early. Want me to come over?¡±

    I didn¡¯t answer him. I had no idea what I wanted. The intense physical reaction to Erik¡¯s kiss was an indication that my feelings for him were stronger than ever. His touch unlocked a part of me that only he could reach, and the way that I felt about Donavon would never compare.

    Penny was right; I should stay away from Donavon. I¡¯d told Penny that I would. But I thought that if I asked Donavon directly about the blood transfusion, he wouldn¡¯t lie to my face.

    Sure, he¡¯d omitted the fact that he was sleeping with Kandice; but he¡¯d never bold-faced lied to me, mostly because he couldn¡¯t. The connection that we¡¯d forged made it impossible for him to keep me out of his mind if I wanted in.

    ¡°Talia?¡± Donavon¡¯s mental voice interrupted my thoughts. I still refused to answer him. ¡°Talia, I¡¯m coming over.¡±

    Several minutes later I felt him approach, and I unlocked the door to my room. He pushed the door open and walked into my darkened space. I could make out his silhouette as he made his way towards me, but all of his features were no more than shadows. He knelt down beside the bed.

    ¡°Talia?¡± he said tentatively.

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me that you were there in Nevada?¡± I blurted out. After everything that I¡¯d already been through tonight, tact was low on my list of priorities. He heaved a big sigh, and for a second I thought that he might not answer.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know what to say to you. My father wouldn¡¯t let anyone near you when you first got back. Then when you came down here, you wouldn¡¯t speak to me. And when you finally did start coming around, I wasn¡¯t really sure how to bring it up.¡± His voice was tight, but he sounded like he was telling the truth. I scanned his mind, and found the same ribbons of panic that I sensed earlier. I contemplated pushing through his barricade, but I lacked the strength.

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me that they gave me your blood?¡± I demanded.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t want you to think that you owed me something.¡± He placed his hand on my back. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Tal. If I¡¯d known that it would upset you so much, I¡¯d have told you myself.¡±

    ¡°Why was your father so mad at you for doing it?¡± I felt Donavon¡¯s hand tense, and he gripped a handful of my tank top. The trickles of panic leaking through turned to gaping holes, and he desperately tried to patch the damage. Donavon was afraid of his father, terrified that if Mac found out that I knew about the blood transfusion he would be furious. I¡¯d already surmised that Mac didn¡¯t want me to know, but Donavon¡¯s distress seemed extreme.

    ¡°Well, for starters, it¡¯s against protocol. Direct blood transfusions are extremely dangerous, and we had no idea what had been done to you. Your body might have rejected the transfusion. I should¡¯ve known better, but . . . well, I was scared. The Medics said that you might die. I wasn¡¯t thinking straight. And honestly, I didn¡¯t care about protocol or the consequences of my actions, or anything else. I couldn¡¯t just sit there and let you die.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand why it¡¯s such a big deal. You probably saved my life. Are you sick or something?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sick. It¡¯s just extremely dangerous to give anyone unfiltered blood. You know that. Dad said that it was even more dangerous because we had no way of knowing what else was in your bloodstream and how it would react. We have no idea what kind of technologies the rebel coalition has.¡±

    I turned to face him. ¡°Is the transfusion really why you aren¡¯t a Hunter anymore?¡± I asked softly.

    Donavon exhaled loudly. ¡°Yes, it is. Captain Alvarez said that he would excuse the breach of protocol, but my father wasn¡¯t as lenient. He said that I was on suspension until I learned to follow orders. Dad probably would have let me go back once he calmed down, but when you gave your report and he realized that we had a spy, he decided to keep me here to help him investigate.

    ¡°Wow, Mac was really that angry?¡± I knew that Mac¡¯s tolerance for rule breaking was low, but usually Donavon and I were granted exceptions. Some might even argue that I broke the rules more than I followed them.

    ¡°Yeah. He was, but he¡¯s over it now,¡± Donavon promised with a small smile. Once again I knew that he was lying. The fear rolling off of Donavon was palpable; Mac was definitely not over it.

    ¡°The other night after I had the seizure, Mac told you not to do something ...what was it?¡± I held my breath as I waited for his answer. I¡¯d just assumed that Mac had told him not to get me excited again, but now I wondered if Mac had been reminding him not to tell me about the transfusion.

    Donavon sank back on his heels and looked absently at the wall. He chewed his lip, debating whether to lie.

    ¡°You said that I could trust you. Tell me the truth, Donavon,¡± I begged him. I felt like the future of our friendship hinged on his answer right now. If he lied to me again, I would never trust him.

    I was certain that Donavon knew how crucial his next words were. It was as if, in this moment, I was asking him to choose between me and his father. If he told me the truth, he would be betraying a promise that he¡¯d made to Mac. If he lied, he would lose me forever.

    I thought about letting him off the hook. After all, I didn¡¯t really need his verbal confirmation¡ªhis hesitancy to answer was enough. And even if he told me the truth, it was too late. Trust or no trust, I didn¡¯t love him like that anymore.

    ¡°Never mind about the other night,¡± I said finally. ¡°But I do wish that you¡¯d told me about the transfusion.¡±

    Donavon turned his head to look at me again. ¡°I do, too. I should have told you that I was your knight in shining armor,¡± he joked, trying to lighten the mood. He tentatively reached for me, and when I didn¡¯t pull away, he stroked my cheek with the back of one finger. ¡°I am really sorry, Tal. Dr. Thistler and the Medical team working on the equalizer know about the transfusion. If there are any repercussions, they¡¯re already being factored into your treatment.¡±

    Of course, Dr. Thistler knew. I was always the last to find out.

    Donavon¡¯s words hung in the minute space between us.

    I stared into his blue eyes and wondered what other secrets he was keeping from me. Donavon looked miserable, and part of me felt badly for him. I¡¯d been trapped in Mac¡¯s house for nine months while I recovered from my physical injuries, but he would always be trapped in his father¡¯s shadow. Mac¡¯s control over me was strong, but his hold on his son was absolute.

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    ¡°Were you the one who found me?¡± I asked quietly as Donavon leaned his head against my mattress, his hair tickling my face. I already knew that he was; it was the only explanation for his having had Erik¡¯s letter.

    ¡°Yes,¡± he whispered. ¡°I was.¡±

    ¡°So, you found my letter?¡± I wanted him to admit it, to tell me the truth about something.

    Donavon tensed. ¡°Yes,¡± he mumbled. ¡°I did.¡±

    I scrambled to get the next question out before I lost my nerve. ¡°Did you read it?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    With that one word, my mental tally of Donavon¡¯s lies had another hash mark.

    ***

    The next morning, I felt Donavon stir, well before sunrise. I peered up at him through narrow slits and mumbled a nearly incomprehensible goodbye. Letting him sleep in my bed after everything that happened seemed wrong, but he¡¯d been so upset after our conversation that I¡¯d been unable to turn him away.

    Just as I¡¯d been sure that Donavon had read the letter, I was sure that he hadn¡¯t told his father. He¡¯d practically shut down after I¡¯d mentioned it. His thoughts had become troubled and darkness had enveloped him, shrouding him in an impenetrable cloak of sadness that was so bleak I¡¯d been scared about what lay beneath the folds. Even after he¡¯d fallen asleep, he¡¯d been restless, tossing and turning fretfully throughout the night.

    ¡°Sleep, Talia,¡± he whispered in my ear as he kissed my cheek.

    I nodded and returned my lids to their closed position. I didn¡¯t open them again until my alarm went off. The sun was just coming up over the horizon, casting a pink tint on my beige carpet. How early had Donavon left? Rolling over, my face made contact with the pillow that he¡¯d slept on, and the smell of his cologne filled my nose. The familiar scent was comforting and unsettling all at once. Being around Donavon was like having a security blanket; despite all of the lies and secrets, he always relaxed me.

    Even after he¡¯d admitted everything about the transfusion and what happened in Nevada, he¡¯d still kept Mac¡¯s real reason for keeping it from me. I could¡¯ve pushed, but I wasn¡¯t sure that I really wanted to know why. There was no explanation that Donavon could give that would make Mac¡¯s omission okay in my eyes. I could understand why Donavon hadn¡¯t told me; I didn¡¯t like it, but I understood. Mac, on the other hand, had spent countless hours with me during my recovery and had plenty of opportunities, yet he¡¯d conveniently left out both Donavon¡¯s presence and the blood transfusion.

    After I was fully dressed and had succeeded in making my curly hair stick-straight, I checked all of the messages from the night before. One was from Donavon before he¡¯d come to see me. One was from Penny, checking to make sure that I was okay after my near-breakdown in the Crypto Bank. And one was from Erik. It came in after Donavon and I had fallen asleep. All the message said was that he was back at headquarters, and to call him when I got the chance.

    My heart fluttered in my chest, and a tingly sensation warmed me from the inside out at the sound of his voice. My fingers automatically flew to the reply button before I remembered that there was nothing I could say to him that the omnipresent ears of the Agency wouldn¡¯t flag. If that happened, we¡¯d both be hauled in for unpleasant questioning. Instead, I busied myself by tidying up my bedroom and bathroom, and thought about a way to communicate with him without being monitored. I came up empty.

    Realizing that if I didn¡¯t leave soon I would be late for my standing appointment with Dr. Thistler, I headed for Medical. As I sat on the crinkly white paper that covered the examination table, waiting for Dr. Thistler to administer my injection, I contemplated asking her about Donavon¡¯s blood transfusion. If his blood really was clean, then she should be able to put my fears to rest. But when I remembered the terror that Donavon had felt as he worried about his father finding out that I knew, I decided against coming out and asking her directly.

    ¡°Dr. Thistler?¡± I asked, drawing her attention away from the entries that she was making on her electronic pad.

    ¡°Yes, dear?¡± she replied, fixing me with a cold, gray stare.

    ¡°Is it possible that whatever is causing my seizures is a result of the blood transfusions that I received on the plane, or in Kansas?¡± I carefully observed her reaction, but her face and her thoughts remained neutral.

    ¡°No, dear, it¡¯s not,¡± she answered flatly.

    ¡°Are you sure? I mean, isn¡¯t it possible that some of the blood was . . . I don¡¯t know, contaminated?¡±

    ¡°All of the blood used for transfusions is filtered and scrubbed clean,¡± she insisted, plastering a slightly manic smile across her worn face. Donavon had said that Medical knew about his blood, which meant that Dr. Thistler knew; but she wasn¡¯t about to admit to it for some reason.

    ¡°I really need to see some other patients, dear. Your levels look good today. I¡¯ll see you tomorrow.¡± With that, she practically ran from the room before I had the chance to ask any more questions. Great. Now my only option was to ask Mac, and I still wasn¡¯t ready for that.

    Ten contemplative minutes later, I arrived at the Crypto Bank.

    ¡°Ready for another exciting day of sifting through personnel files?¡± Penny greeted me with mock cheeriness.

    ¡°I can hardly contain my excitement,¡± I replied sarcastically.

    The smile dropped from Penny¡¯s face and was quickly replaced by a nervous expression.

    ¡°Did you see Donavon last night?¡± she asked, accusingly.

    ¡°If I didn¡¯t know better, I¡¯d think that you were the mind reader,¡± I joked half-heartedly.

    ¡°What happened?¡± she demanded.

    So I told Penny the story, the same way that Donavon had told me. When I finished, I waited anxiously for her to say something, anything. She didn¡¯t. Instead, Penny turned to face her computers.

    ¡°Why do you think Mac doesn¡¯t want me to know?¡± I asked, talking now to the back of her head.

    Penny sat unmoving, her thin shoulders vibrating with tension, seemingly weighing her next words carefully.

    ¡°I honestly don¡¯t know,¡± she said softly.

    When she turned back around, her expression was neutral. Her posture was rigid, and her normally bright eyes were dark and troubled.

    ¡°Tal, when you have these seizures, what happens exactly?¡± she asked quietly, glancing at Gemma to ensure the other girl was preoccupied. As usual, Gemma was so engrossed in her work that she barely acknowledged our presence.

    ¡°Um, well, I start shaking, kind of lose control of my body, and then I usually pass out,¡± I said uneasily. The episodes were so embarrassing, I hated talking about them.

    ¡°Usually pass out? Have you ever stayed conscious through one?¡±

    ¡°Once,¡± I admitted. I hadn¡¯t told Penny about the seizure in my bedroom during Career Fair; I¡¯d been worried that she would agree with Dr. Thistler, and insist that I refrain from physical activity. Not that I would have listened to her any more than I¡¯d listened to the doctor, but still.

    ¡°Did anything else happen, besides the shaking?¡± Penny studied me with concern and something bordering on horror. If she thought that the convulsing was bad, how would she react if I told her that I¡¯d clawed Donavon¡¯s neck and torn his shirt? She¡¯d think that I was nuts and that I belonged next to Ernest in the Psychiatric Ward, and I couldn¡¯t have that.

    ¡°No,¡± I lied to my best friend for the first time ever. ¡°I mean, I couldn¡¯t speak or even communicate with my mind, but that always happens.¡±

    Penny¡¯s shoulders sagged ...with relief? I was glad that I hadn¡¯t told her the truth; she obviously couldn¡¯t handle it.

    ¡°Tal,¡± she began slowly. ¡°Please promise me that you will be cautious with Donavon, and maybe even with the Director. Maybe this isn¡¯t a big deal, but they did lie to you. What other secrets are they keeping?¡±

    Weren¡¯t those the same ideas that I¡¯d been contemplating myself? Penny was right. Maybe this wasn¡¯t a big deal¡ªbut then again, maybe it was.

    ¡°I¡¯ll try, Penny,¡± I promised.

    I looked over at Gemma again; she still wasn¡¯t paying attention to us. Talking about such a sensitive topic in the Crypto Bank was a bad idea. This room, like every TOXIC facility, was monitored by security cameras and listening devices, and a conversation where I accused the Director of TOXIC of lying would definitely be flagged. If Gemma were a loyal Operative and she overhead us, she would report it. Penny seemed to realize my concern.

    ¡°You know what, Tals? You¡¯re right. I¡¯m sure that it¡¯s not a big deal. Once we find the spy, that person will be able to tell us what you were injected with. Then Dr. Thistler will find a cure, and all of this nonsense about Donavon¡¯s blood won¡¯t matter anyway.¡± With a great deal of effort, Penny offered me a big grin, but her hands gripped the arms of her swivel chair so tightly that her knuckles cracked from the effort.

    ¡°And on that note, let¡¯s get to work finding that person so we have something to report at our status meeting,¡± I suggested with an exaggerated eye roll. Our status meetings were unproductive, at best. Mac always gave the same tired speech about the importance of finding the spy, as if we weren¡¯t all aware that we weren¡¯t making any progress and didn¡¯t appreciate the danger of having such an infiltrator. I was living proof that the person was dangerous.

    We worked for the next hour in relative silence. A couple of times, I contemplated breaking my resolution to never read Penny¡¯s mind and just take a quick swipe. Penny might have said that she didn¡¯t know why Mac was lying, but her reaction and her questions about the seizures told me that she at least had some theories. Still, every time I thought about it, I quickly rejected the idea.

    After what seemed like all day, I sighed in exasperation. Penny removed her headphones and smiled at me. ¡°I know that it¡¯s slow going.¡±

    ¡°I feel like I¡¯ve been through every single Operative¡¯s file,¡± I whined.

    ¡°Not hardly!¡± She laughed. ¡°You¡¯ve only just started on the Operatives not living here on campus.¡±

    I groaned, cursing the vast size of the organization. ¡°I have to go to class now, so this will have to wait until later,¡± I said, rubbing my temples as I did. Staring at that computer screen was giving me a horrible headache.

    ¡°Have fun. Catch us a spy,¡± Penny quipped as I headed for the door.

 Chapter Sixty-Four: The One Where Eggs lead to a Favor

    I spent the next ninety minutes grading Annalise¡¯s latest homework assignment while she rambled about verb conjugation in Spanish. Then I endured an hour and a half where Cadence alternated between ignoring my presence and barking orders at me. Since Ernest was still unaware of who he was, I returned to the Crypto Bank to spend the lunch hour with Penny and Gemma. After lunch, I joined Thad at the front of his classroom and observed the students taking a pop quiz.

    ¡°So, exactly how did you end up as an assistant Instructor?¡± Thad whispered, giving me the opening that I needed for a more in-depth exploration of his mind.

    ¡°I failed my solo mission for the Hunters,¡± I admitted, staring at my tightly clasped hands in my lap.

    ¡°Really? I saw you in the demonstrations the other day, and you seemed to know what you were doing.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but being in the field is so different. I was sloppy, and it got me captured.¡± I glanced up to gauge his reaction. The fact that I¡¯d failed my qualifying assignment was common knowledge, but being captured wasn¡¯t.

    ¡°A Hunter¡¯s worst fear.¡± He nodded knowingly and gave an involuntary shudder.

    ¡°Were you ever captured?¡± I asked, diving into his thoughts. Images of close calls and near misses floated through his mind.

    ¡°Thank goodness, no.¡± He sighed. He was telling the truth. ¡°There were a couple of times that I thought for sure my team wouldn¡¯t make it out, but we were never taken.¡±

    ¡°Mr. Wietz, I¡¯m finished,¡± a curly-haired boy proclaimed, setting his quiz paper in front of Thad.

    ¡°Great, Justin. You¡¯re excused for the day,¡± Thad responded.

    After that, students began to stream to Thad¡¯s desk to turn in their quizzes. My chance to engage him in any more reminiscing was gone, but it didn¡¯t matter. It wasn¡¯t necessary; Thad wasn¡¯t our spy. I decided to ask Mac to let me out of my obligation to assist in the history class.

    As usual, Griffin¡¯s class was the highlight of my day. I loved watching his students improve from one day to the next. After their initial hesitancy about my abilities, many of them had come to regard me with a certain amount of reverence, especially after watching me in the Hunters¡¯ demonstrations. The students were actually interested in my help, and they took my advice to heart.

    I was in a good mood when I arrived at Ursula¡¯s class, but unfortunately it didn¡¯t last long.

    ¡°I hear you offered to train Kenly Baker.¡± Ursula smirked as we stood side by side, watching the students attempt to throw one another across the mats using their minds.

    ¡°Yup,¡± I confirmed.

    ¡°She¡¯s a lost cause, Talia,¡± Ursula insisted, placing her hands on her ample hips.

    ¡°Eh, I wouldn¡¯t count her out just yet. She just needs more training.¡± Even as I was singing Kenly¡¯s praises, she failed to make her partner so much as stumble when she concentrated her energy on the girl. Ursula gave me an ¡°I told you so¡± glance. I just shrugged, trying to appear unfazed by her poor showing.

    ¡°You aren¡¯t focusing, Baker,¡± she shouted at Kenly, causing the girl¡¯s face to flush and her feet to became entangled in each other.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Kenly,¡± I called reassuringly. ¡°Just concentrate and envision your ultimate goal.¡±

    Ursula laughed. ¡°Good luck with that one.¡±

    The way that Ursula mocked Kenly angered me. I knew that I shouldn¡¯t, but I couldn¡¯t stop myself from sending her partner flying through the air on Kenly¡¯s next attempt.

    ¡°Nice!¡± I yelled to Kenly, who looked shocked as her partner lay on the mats gasping for breath.

    Ursula looked irritated that Kenly had proven her wrong, and she decided to take her frustration out on me.

    ¡°So, how do you know Erik?¡± she asked, a devilish grin on her pouty lips.

    ¡°From the Hunters,¡± I said slowly, turning my attention to her. ¡°How do you know Erik?¡±

    ¡°Mutual friends. We all go way back,¡± she replied evasively.

    ¡°Like who?¡± I pressed, hoping she would dispel my fear that she knew him on an intimate level.

    Ursula sized me up, the gleam in her eyes giving away how much she enjoyed making me squirm. ¡°Erik . . . dated my best friend for years,¡± she finally answered.

    ¡°When?¡± I hissed through tightly clenched teeth, hating myself for playing right into her trap.

    ¡°Oh, it was ages ago, before he got hung up on some chick that he met last year and stopped being fun,¡± she rolled her eyes skyward. ¡°You might as well give up any fantasy of catching that boy. It¡¯s as much a lost cause as you making Baker a Hunter.¡±

    ¡°Who said that I wanted to ¡®catch¡¯ him?¡± I demanded.

    Ursula gave me a sympathetic look, like I was a child and she was about to tell me that unicorns weren¡¯t real.

    ¡°I saw the way that you look at him. You¡¯ve got it bad. I¡¯m telling you, he¡¯s not exactly a one-girl kind of guy. After the way he¡¯s been acting since that chick broke his heart, you don¡¯t stand a chance.¡±

    Broke his heart? Had I broken his heart? He was the one who¡¯d stormed out of my room! He was the one who hadn¡¯t called. Well, okay, maybe neither of us had called; but where was he when I needed him? Where was he while I was learning to walk again? Sure, he claimed that he¡¯d missed me and the kiss in the hangar made it feel as if nothing had changed between us, but still.

    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    ¡°Don¡¯t look so depressed, Talia,¡± Ursula continued. ¡°The way I hear it, you¡¯ve got the Director¡¯s son wrapped around your little finger.¡± She held up her pinkie for emphasis.

    ¡°It¡¯s not like that,¡± I insisted.

    Ursula didn¡¯t look convinced. ¡°If that¡¯s the case, turn him loose so that the rest of us can have a shot. He¡¯s the only good-looking guy with all of his hair at this school, unless you count the students.¡± Ursula shrugged, surveying her class of teenagers like she was selecting her next meal. I gaped at her, shocked and disgusted. The oldest students at the School were two years younger than I was, and like six years younger than Ursula.

    ¡°Alright, class dismissed. Good job today, guys,¡± she yelled, cupping her hands around her mouth to amplify her voice.

    I turned and left without another word, feeling slightly dirty after watching her ogle her male students. It was unlikely that Ursula Bane was a traitor, but she was most certainly a cradle robber.

    I caught up with Kenly, and we walked together to the indoor arena for our first nightly training session. After her less-than-stellar performance in Ursula¡¯s class, I decided to start with the basics.

    Since Kenly¡¯s Higher Reasoning Talent was more developed than her Telekinesis, she hadn¡¯t taken advanced combat and weapons training. I¡¯d hoped that Kenly¡¯s poor performance during the Career Fair was nerves. Unfortunately, the more that I watched her, the less optimistic I was; Kenly wasn¡¯t a particularly good fighter.

    We worked on basic maneuvers into the night, but she never once complained. Every time that she fell, she got right back up. She took every correction that I made to heart, and tried to implement them immediately¡ªemphasis on tried. By the end of the evening she¡¯d made no discernible improvement, yet I still left the Arena feeling confident in my decision.

    ¡°It takes time,¡± I assured her as we crossed the campus grounds.

    Kenly pulled absently at a loose thread on the hem of her workout tee. ¡°I know, but it feels like all the practice in the world couldn¡¯t prepare me for my exams,¡± she replied.

    ¡°You¡¯ll be ready,¡± I promised, willing her doubts away.

    ¡°I¡¯ll see you tomorrow, Ms. Ly¡ªI mean, Talia,¡± she said, turning to veer right on the path leading to her dorm.

    ¡°¡¯Night, Kenly,¡± I called after her.

    When I returned to my room, I had several comms waiting for me. One was from Erik, one from Donavon, and one from Mac. Mac wanted to know how my training session with Kenly had gone. I wasn¡¯t eager to inform him that she was even worse than he¡¯d originally thought, so I decided against calling him back. Donavon wanted to know if he could come over; I knew that was a bad idea, so I didn¡¯t respond to him either. Erik¡¯s message reminded me of something that I¡¯d forgotten about: Festivis Day.

    I hit the reply button immediately, and Erik answered on the second ring.

    ¡°Hey,¡± his voice filled my room.

    ¡°Hey ...how are you?¡±

    ¡°Better now that you decided to call me back,¡± he teased. I heard the bedsprings squeak and I imagined him flopping carelessly on to his bed, hopefully shirtless.

    ¡°Sorry, I¡¯ve been busy,¡± I said lamely.

    ¡°Yeah, I kinda figured. So ...how about meeting me in the city for Festivis?¡± Erik asked tentatively.

    ¡°I have to ask Mac. I¡¯m not really clear on whether I¡¯m allowed to leave campus,¡± I said apologetically. I wanted to go - I wanted to see him. Hearing his voice wasn¡¯t enough; I needed to touch him.

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you suggest that you deserve some time off?¡± he said, emphasizing ¡°suggest.¡± I caught his meaning; he wanted me to manipulate Mac into letting me go. A thrill ran through me; I wasn¡¯t the only one missing the physical closeness.

    ¡°I¡¯ll ask,¡± I promised, not bothering to hide the smile creeping into my voice.

    ¡°Good. Call me as soon as you know?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll talk to him tomorrow,¡± I swore.

    There was a long pause, neither of us speaking. Erik¡¯s breathing became heavier, and my thoughts of him half-naked in his bed ran wild.

    ¡°I miss you, Tals,¡± he finally whispered.

    ¡°I miss you, too,¡± I breathed, getting a little choked up. I swallowed over the lump forming in my throat. ¡°I¡¯ll talk to you soon.¡± I disconnected before Erik could realize how emotional I was.

    I considered calling Mac right then, but I wasn¡¯t sure if he was on campus. If I was going to ¡°suggest¡± that he let me go to the city for Festivis, I needed to see him in person. Resolving to hunt Mac down the following day, I crawled into bed feeling a little happier. I wasn¡¯t sure that I¡¯d be able to convince Mac, but the prospect of seeing Erik again so soon was too enticing to not at least try.

    ***

    ¡°So, what would it take for you to help me with Kenly?¡± I asked Donavon the next morning over runny scrambled eggs and burnt bacon in the cafeteria.

    ¡°Wow, admitting that you can¡¯t do this already? She must be really awful,¡± he teased.

    ¡°No, no, I¡¯m not admitting anything. I¡¯m just asking for a little help. After all, you¡¯re a teacher, aren¡¯t you? Maybe you could just give me some ideas.¡±

    ¡°Tal, you¡¯ve been training to be a Hunter for years. Why don¡¯t you just do the same things that we were taught?¡± he asked, shoveling a huge spoonful of egg in his mouth.

    ¡°Right, and Kenly doesn¡¯t have years. I¡¯m looking for more of a crash course in becoming a Hunter.¡±

    ¡°Exactly. That¡¯s why this is a lost cause¡ªthere¡¯s no such thing as a ¡®crash course¡¯ in becoming a Hunter.¡± He grinned and bit into a heavily buttered piece of cranberry bread. I rolled my eyes.

    ¡°Donavon, look at me,¡± I demanded. ¡°I really need your help.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t you dare use your manipulation on me, Tal,¡± he warned.

    ¡°Pretty please,¡± I begged, switching tactics.

    ¡°You¡¯re pathetic,¡± he declared. ¡°But I¡¯ll make you a deal. Tell me why you didn¡¯t return my message last night, and I¡¯ll help you.¡±

    ¡°I told you. I didn¡¯t see your comm before I went to bed.¡± The lie came easily to my lips. Part of me had really wanted to see him, but another part of me felt guilty about doing so after I¡¯d promised Erik that I would try to meet him in D.C. If I¡¯d agreed to let Donavon come over, I would have only been using him for the comfort that he provided. That wasn¡¯t fair to either of us, or to Erik. I wasn¡¯t ready to distance myself completely from Donavon, evidenced by the fact we were currently having breakfast together, but I knew that I needed to put a stop to any alone time.

    ¡°You¡¯re lying,¡± Donavon accused.

    ¡°How dare you make such an accusation!¡± I feigned outrage.

    ¡°Talia, I know you better than you know yourself. I know that you¡¯re lying.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± I admitted, hoping that honesty would win me some brownie points. ¡°Look, Donavon. I just need some time to think. I¡¯m really confused right now.¡±

    ¡°About us?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Well, yeah¡ªus, the spy, my health, everything,¡± I rambled. I knew that I didn¡¯t want to get back together with Donavon, but I also wasn¡¯t ready to lose him completely. If I told him about Erik, that we¡¯d kissed and I¡¯d nearly fainted, it would be the end of our friendship. Now who was the one lying and omitting important details, I thought.

    He put down his fork, reached across the table, and took my hand. ¡°Take all the time you need, Tal. If you want help with Kenly, then I will help you. And if you don¡¯t want me to come over at night, I understand.¡±

    ¡°Thanks,¡± I whispered. ¡°I just need some time to think.¡±

    By the end of the school day, I was in a horrendous mood. My extra time in the Crypto Bank wasn¡¯t yielding any results, I wasn¡¯t getting anywhere with my remaining suspects, and I hadn¡¯t managed to locate Mac. I felt dejected and hopeless. If we didn¡¯t find the spy, would I ever get better? The Instructors that Mac assigned me to had raised red flags initially, but they couldn¡¯t be the only ones. I understood that they were just a starting point since they were here, but was Mac planning to send me undercover everywhere that he found a suspect? That would take years. I didn¡¯t have that much time; Ian Crane was still out there, killing innocent people¡­or was he? You have no idea what your Agency does to innocent people.

    At the very least, I needed to talk to Crane again. I needed for him to answer my questions, and I needed to know why he¡¯d sent his men to kill my parents. I needed to know what he meant by those words, the ones that played in my mind like a mantra¡ªYou have no idea what your Agency does to innocent people.

 Chapter Sixty-Five: The One Where She Teaches Telekinesis

    That afternoon, Donavon showed up to help with Kenly as promised. Every time that he got close to her to guide her through the moves, she blushed. I began to worry that maybe his presence was going to be more of a distraction than an asset. By the end of our second practice, I felt significantly less confident about my decision.

    ¡°Do you think she¡¯ll ever get it?¡± I asked Donavon after we¡¯d parted ways with Kenly.

    ¡°Hard to say, but doubtful, given the time constraints,¡± he responded, cupping the back of my neck and massaging the knots of tension away. I let his hand linger for several seconds before shrugging out of his grip. Donavon sighed heavily, but refrained from touching me again. We said goodnight in the lobby of the dorm. He didn¡¯t ask if I wanted him to come to my room, saving me the unpleasantness of saying no.

    Back in my room, I sank down on my bed, exhausted. Both Erik and Mac had left me comms. My first instinct was to call Erik back first, but I had nothing to report and decided I would wait, despite my desire to hear his voice. Instead, I dialed Mac¡¯s number.

    ¡°Natalia,¡± he greeted me after the first ring.

    ¡°Hey, Mac,¡± I responded.

    ¡°How is the training with Ms. Baker?¡± he asked, sounding distracted, and as if he didn¡¯t really care.

    ¡°Um, you know, pretty good. She¡¯ll get the hang of it,¡± I mumbled, hoping that vague answers would suffice. ¡°So, where are you? Are you on campus?¡± I asked.

    ¡°I just got back a couple of hours ago. I am in my office. Why?¡± Mac responded, finally sounding like he was giving me his undivided attention.

    ¡°I kinda wanted to talk to you about something. Can I come over?¡± I crossed my fingers and said a silent prayer.

    ¡°Are you okay? Did something happen?¡± Mac sounded alarmed, and I could imagine his gray eyes narrowing in concentration.

    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m fine. It¡¯s nothing like that. I just wanted to ask you a question and thought that it might be better if we talked in person,¡± I hedged, cringing a little at how obvious I must sound.

    Mac sighed. ¡°It¡¯s late, Natalia. What is it that you want now?¡± He wasn¡¯t going to agree to an in-person meeting¡ªcrap.

    I debated for several seconds. If I asked him over the communicator and he said no, then I would¡¯ve blown my chance; but if I waited until tomorrow, he¡¯d likely be prepared for my suggestive question. I decided to just go for it.

    ¡°Can I go into the city for Festivis next week?¡± I held my breath, willing him through the phone to agree.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know...¡± he began.

    Since it wasn¡¯t an immediate no, I jumped at the opportunity to plead my case.

    ¡°Mac, please,¡± I begged. ¡°No one will really be on campus anyway, and I haven¡¯t been off this compound since you brought me here ten months ago.¡±

    Mac didn¡¯t answer right away, and I started to lose hope. Then he gave another tired sigh and cleared his throat.

    ¡°How are you planning to get down there? You cannot drive yourself, and I am sending Donavon to Atlanta to take part in a Festivis Day ceremony there.¡±

    Atlanta? Why hadn¡¯t Donavon mentioned that? Even as I felt a slight pang of bitterness, I realized that if Donavon were preoccupied I wouldn¡¯t have to tell him that I was going to meet Erik. I knew that I should tell him, but I didn¡¯t want to upset him.

    ¡°I thought that Penny could drive. She has her hover license and, unless I¡¯m mistaken, she isn¡¯t under the same restrictions that I am. She¡¯s free to leave whenever she likes, right?¡±

    Mac grew quiet again, and I heard the shuffling of papers across his desk and his fingers chirping on computer keys. ¡°You may go,¡± he finally decided.

    I let out the breath that I¡¯d been holding and smiled from ear to ear. He¡¯d actually agreed, and I didn¡¯t even have to manipulate him.

    ¡°Thank you so much, Mac!¡± I exclaimed, wishing that I¡¯d talked to him in person so I could hug him right then.

    ¡°Hold on¡ªdon¡¯t get too excited just yet. You may go, but there are a couple of conditions,¡± he warned, backpedaling slightly. Conditions? I didn¡¯t like the sound of that.

    ¡°Okay, sure. What conditions?¡± I asked hesitantly.

    ¡°No drinking, and I want you back at a decent hour,¡± Mac insisted. No drinking? That was fine; it wasn¡¯t like I wanted to go just to get drunk. And a decent hour just meant that I couldn¡¯t stay out all night. No big deal; most of the celebrations took place during the day anyway.

    ¡°No problem!¡± I agreed, audible excitement evident in my voice. ¡°Thanks, Mac, I really appreciate it.¡±

    ¡°Gretchen and I will be in New York for the holiday. We have a banquet to attend, but Janet will be here if you need anything. I want you to report to her when you return, so that she knows you are okay,¡± Mac continued.

    ¡°I can do that!¡± Janet was much more lenient than Mac. As long as I didn¡¯t have a seizure, she¡¯d let me do whatever I wanted. Now I just had to convince Penny, and I doubted that she would need much encouragement; Penny loved getting dressed up.

    I felt a hundred times better as I brushed my teeth and got ready for bed. While I was mostly excited about seeing Erik, I was also happy to finally leave the grounds. Even with my newly-acquired freedom, the campus still felt like a prison.

    After donning my pajamas, I dialed Erik and rested my head on the pillow while I waited for him to answer.

    ¡°Hello?¡± he said groggily.

    ¡°Guess what?¡± I practically squealed.

    ¡°Hey, Tals,¡± he replied, sounding more awake now that he knew it was me. ¡°I¡¯m guessing by how excited you sound that you talked to the Director?¡±

    ¡°I did,¡± I confirmed. ¡°He said I can go!¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± Erik sounded relieved, but not nearly as enthusiastic as I¡¯d hoped.

    ¡°You still want to meet me, right?¡± I asked, a little worried that he¡¯d changed his mind.

    ¡°Of course. I¡¯m sorry, I¡¯m just really tired. It¡¯s late, and Henri and I are leaving in the morning for a mission,¡± he said, trying to muster a happier tone for my benefit.

    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sorry, I didn¡¯t know. . . . ¡± I felt just the tiniest bit guilty now. I should¡¯ve checked the time, but in my haste to hear his voice, I hadn¡¯t bothered.

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    ¡°It¡¯s okay. I can¡¯t wait to see you,¡± he added.

    ¡°Yeah, me too. ¡¯Night, Erik. Be safe tomorrow.¡± I smiled, wishing that I¡¯d chosen the holograph option when I called, so that I could see his face.

    ¡°¡¯Night, Tals. I¡¯ll call you when I get back.¡± With that he disconnected and I pulled the covers tighter around me, wishing that they were his arms.

    ***

    The days quickly began to run together. Every morning I woke and met Donavon in the Instructor cafeteria for breakfast. After that was my routine visit to the Medical building for a daily dose of Dr. Thistler and her not-so-miracle equalizing drug. Some mornings I would sneak down to the Psych wing and visit Ernest after I met with her. Most days I just sat in his room and watched him stare off into space. Other days I brought books and read random chapters to him, hoping to elicit a reaction. Someday I hoped to have the courage to try restoring some of the memories that I¡¯d stolen, but as of yet I was too scared.

    After my visit with Ernest, I¡¯d make my way over to the Crypto Bank. I spent the next few hours searching through personnel files while Penny and Gemma did whatever it was that Crypto workers actually did on a day-to-day basis. I spent my lunch hour training with Kenly since her skills were more remedial than I¡¯d first thought.

    I also attended the classes that Mac still wanted me to assist in. Annalise kept me busy grading papers, and I continued to engage her in small talk at every opportunity. Cadence continued to dislike me, and I continued to reciprocate her feelings. Mac grudgingly agreed to release me from my obligation to assist Thad, so that was another hour that I spent back in the Crypto Bank. I took out my aggression by sparring with Griffin¡¯s students; some days my feelings were so out of control that he had to remind me to go easy on them. Ursula¡¯s class gave me more time to work with Kenly, and I didn¡¯t waste it. I routinely spent the hour focused on helping her develop her abilities while avoiding talking to Ursula about Erik.

    Ursula¡¯s comment about the ¡°chick¡± that had broken his heart weighed heavily on my mind. Was I really that ¡°chick¡±? I was almost certain that I was.

    Thoughts of Erik consumed my dreams and distracted me from my daily tasks. I played his messages over and over again just to hear his voice. It didn¡¯t compare to actually talking to him, but I didn¡¯t really have another option since he was away on his mission.

    When I asked Penny about going into the city for Festivis, she readily agreed, just like I¡¯d known she would. We spent the week planning our outfits and deciding what bars we wanted to try. It felt like old times; and for the millionth time since meeting her, I was thankful that I had a friend like Penny.

    She¡¯d talked to Harris, and he¡¯d agreed to come with Erik. The way Penny smiled when she talked about him made me think that whatever had started between the two the previous year definitely wasn¡¯t over. I hadn¡¯t seen her so happy in a long time, and I liked it. Investigating the spy was taking its toll on her¡ªshe often looked tired and stressed¡ªbut the prospect of seeing Harris had revitalized her.

    ¡°Do you think that we will ever find the spy?¡± I asked Penny the morning before our Festivis holiday began. Despite my mounting enthusiasm for the celebration, my lack of progress and Mac¡¯s continuous reminders of that fact were dampening my mood. Penny tore her attention away from the monitors and gave me a wary smile.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, Tal. I mean, I know the Director thinks that a spy is the only way that Crane could have known who you were and all; but have you thought that maybe he just recognized you?¡±

    Recognized me? I actually hadn¡¯t considered that¡ªbut Crane hadn¡¯t known what I looked like, had he?

    ¡°Think about it, Tal. We have workups on all of the major players in the Coalition, right? You knew what Crane looked like because we had pictures of him. Don¡¯t you think that they probably have the same information on us? I mean, you said yourself that they have better technology than we do. If that¡¯s true, then I¡¯m sure they have facial recognition software and all that,¡± she continued, barely pausing to take a breath.

    ¡°I guess you could be right,¡± I said weakly. If she was, then I really was chasing a ghost. This whole assignment could be a complete waste of time. ¡°But then, why would Mac have pulled you from your work at Elite? And why would he have Donavon undercover here? And Janet and the Assistant Director and the Captain are all investigating this, too,¡± I pointed out.

    ¡°He obviously really believes that there¡¯s a spy. Seriously, Tal¡ªeven though we¡¯ve been combing these files for weeks and the Director has been investigating this for months, no one has found anything. I just think that it¡¯s time we considered the possibility that Crane just knew who you were.¡± Penny sighed, sitting back in the chair like her speech had exhausted her.

    Scrutinizing Penny¡¯s drawn features and bloodshot eyes, I realized that she looked horrible. Her appearance was becoming increasingly more haggard and run-down. I wondered how much time she¡¯d spent digitally hunting the traitor when I wasn¡¯t around. Penny was always at her desk when I got there in the mornings, and she often stayed until well past midnight; she must be sleeping even less than I was. I¡¯d been so distracted by my seizures and my personal life that her extreme efforts hadn¡¯t registered.

    ¡°Well, Penny,¡± I began, giving her a pointed look. ¡°I¡¯ll let you be the one to break that news to Mac.¡±

    Penny laughed. ¡°Um, I¡¯m not stupid, Tal. I think that I¡¯ll wait for him to reach that conclusion on his own.¡±

    ¡°Probably for the best,¡± I agreed. She was right; Mac wouldn¡¯t like her assertions even if they were right. Particularly if they were right. The fact that the Coalition¡¯s technology surpassed our own was a sore spot for him; he would really hate being reminding of it.

    That evening, Donavon and I tried a number of sensory deprivation techniques with Kenly to no avail. I decided that we should move on to weapons training since she was seriously lacking in that department as well. The fact that nobody was injured badly enough to warrant stitches was the most positive thing that came out of the night¡¯s practice.

    ¡°Have you thought about trying to mentally walk her through the exercises?¡± Donavon suggested as he walked me back to my room.

    ¡°You mean control her, so I can will her to do the moves?¡± I asked, amazed that I hadn¡¯t thought of the idea sooner.

    ¡°Yeah, at least then she would know what it feels like to actually do the moves correctly,¡± he shrugged. ¡°Just a thought.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re a genius!¡± I exclaimed. The idea really was great. If Kenly got the feel for the movements, she might start doing them correctly on her own.

    When we reached the door to our building, I hugged Donavon goodbye and reached for the door. I was in a much lighter mood, now that I had a plan that I genuinely believed might work.

    ¡°Tal?¡± Donavon¡¯s mental voice called after me tentatively.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± I replied.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to Atlanta for Festivis Day. Dad wants me to preside over the celebrations down there. I¡¯m leaving in the morning, and won¡¯t be back for a couple of days. I know you said that you need time to think, but maybe we could talk when I get back?¡±

    Donavon reached out and grabbed my arm, pulling me around to face him. I tensed. Conflicting emotions warred in my mind. I recoiled even as a small part of me hoped that he would kiss me. What was wrong with me? I was going to meet Erik in the morning. I¡¯d been looking forward to seeing him again since the moment he¡¯d left campus. But now that I was standing so close to Donavon, his breath warm on my face, I longed to feel his lips on mine.

    Donavon brushed his mouth across my forehead.

    ¡°Goodnight, Talia,¡± he said aloud. ¡°Have fun at Festivis,¡± he added.

    ¡°Yeah, thanks.¡± I still hadn¡¯t told him that I was going to meet Erik, but I think he knew.

    ¡°Goodnight, Donavon.¡±

    Turning, I quickly fled into my building. I needed to tell him the truth, and soon; our relationship couldn¡¯t remain in this emotional limbo any longer.

    Lying in my bed, I mentally reviewed all of the unsettling information that I¡¯d acquired in the past week. Nothing made sense anymore. Why hadn¡¯t Mac told me about the transfusion? Why had Dr. Thistler freaked out when I¡¯d brought it up? Why was Donavon so scared for his father to find out that I knew? What had Mac reminded Donavon not to tell me after my last seizure? Was Penny right? Was there no spy? Did Crane know who I was because the Coalition had a file on me? That scenario didn¡¯t really add up for me, though; I¡¯d been a Pledge when I went to Nevada. Sure, I¡¯d buy that they had a file on Mac and Janet and anyone like that, but not on me. They probably did now since I¡¯d actively tried to kill Crane. But before my mission, I¡¯d been no one to the Coalition¡ªjust another Talented cog turned out by the School¡¯s assembly line. Or had I?

    Your father, Crane had said to me when I asked how he knew so much about Mind Manipulation. If Crane had known my father well enough for that to be true, then maybe he did know who I was and what I looked like. Maybe he¡¯d been expecting me to come for him one day.

    The encounter that I¡¯d just had with Donavon added to the questions churning in my head, and made it impossible to sleep. I didn¡¯t want to be with Donavon, but why couldn¡¯t I give him up? Why couldn¡¯t I just tell him about Erik? Why, after all the lies and secrets, was I so eager to keep him in my life?

    Because you¡¯re selfish; you need his support. Erik isn¡¯t reliable, and Erik won¡¯t want you after he realizes how bad your condition really is, I thought.

    Would Erik run the first time that my temper flared out of control and I started convulsing? Would Erik sit on my bedroom floor while I slept just to be there in case I had another seizure? Would Erik forgive me if I went crazy and slapped him, then tore his shirt and clawed at his face?

    Erik didn¡¯t cheat on you, I reminded myself, remembering Penny¡¯s statement at Captain Alvarez¡¯s dinner. She was right. I trusted Erik. But did I trust him enough to let him see me at my worst?

 Chapter Sixty-Six: The One with the Petty Chair Antics

    Despite not setting my alarm, I woke before the sun. I stretched, and a ripple of excitement ran through me when I remembered that today was the start of Festivis. Today I would get to see Erik! All of my misgivings from the previous night were gone. I didn¡¯t care if he was irresponsible or if he would be there for me when I needed him. I concentrated instead on the feeling of pure elation that just the thought of him brought about. I thought about being close to him and how, even when we were surrounded by a group of people, we still managed to create our own world. I thought about the kiss in the hangar, and how I¡¯d soon be reliving it for real and not in a dream.

    There was a slight bounce in my step as I took a very cold shower. Selecting an outfit from the ones that Gretchen sent, I bypassed the boring black cocktail dress and the floral-print shift, and finally decided on a ballerina-length royal blue sheath. The dress was one-shouldered and belted at the waist with a tightly knotted gold rope.

    By the time Penny knocked on my door, I was standing in front of my bathroom mirror, applying gold eye shadow.

    ¡°Come in, Penny,¡± I called. The pounding came again, a little more insistently this time. ¡°It¡¯s open, Penny,¡± I yelled a little louder, hoping that she heard me. When she still didn¡¯t open the door, I trudged from the closet-sized bathroom to the door, tightening the belt on my bathrobe.

    ¡°Sorry, I thought you¡¯d be able to...¡± I let my voice trail off when I opened the door and realized that it wasn¡¯t Penny.

    ¡°Hey, Talia,¡± Ursula greeted me brightly, her plump lips curving up at the corners in a tentative smile.

    ¡°Oh, hey. Sorry, I was expecting Penny,¡± I said awkwardly. What on earth was Ursula doing here? She¡¯d never dropped by my room before; it wasn¡¯t like we were exactly friends.

    ¡°Yeah, I kinda figured that when I heard you calling her name,¡± Ursula smirked. ¡°So, you two are going into D.C. for the celebrations?¡±

    I shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. Ursula¡¯s body-hugging mini-skirt and halter top made me feel skinny and unattractive in my too-big bathrobe. ¡°Um, yeah, we are. I¡¯ve been cooped up on campus for months, so it should be nice to get out and have a little fun.¡± I wasn¡¯t sure why I felt the need to explain myself to her, but for some reason I did.

    ¡°Awesome. Mind if I tag along? My friends bailed, so I called Erik, and he said that he was meeting you¡­¡± Ursula let the question hang in the air between us. The way that her eyes twinkled, coupled with the open curiosity on her dramatic features, told me that she was fishing for information. She wanted to know just how well Erik and I knew each other. I wasn¡¯t about to feed into her nosiness, but I also wanted her to know that I was the ¡°chick¡± that Erik was hung up on.

    ¡°Yeah, of course, you¡¯re welcome to join us. I mean, I don¡¯t know if you¡¯ll find us as exciting as your friends, but we had a good time last year.¡± I smiled, giving her just enough information to leave her salivating for more.

    Her hazel eyes widened when I insinuated that I¡¯d spent last Festivis with Erik, too. In truth, I had; and we¡¯d had a good time, a really good time. The night after Festivis was the first time that Erik kissed me.

    ¡°Awesome. What time are we leaving?¡± she asked, placing her hands on her hips and trying to affect a nonchalant air.

    ¡°Um, I guess whenever I¡¯m ready. Want me to send you a comm?¡± I was hoping that she didn¡¯t intend to sit in my room while I got dressed. Sure, I could use the time to pick her brain a little, but I was fairly confident that she wasn¡¯t the spy and therefore didn¡¯t welcome the intrusion. Penny and I had spent so little quality time together since my arrival¡ªwe were always too busy working¡ªand I was really looking forward to our time-honored tradition of getting ready together.

    ¡°Oh, sure; that would be great,¡± Ursula looked a little put off by my dismissal, and I felt the tiniest bit bad, but not enough to invite her in. She recovered quickly, giving me a small wave over her shoulder as she turned to leave. ¡°Talk to you soon!¡±

    ¡°Right,¡± I mumbled. I would definitely have to thank Erik for telling her about our rendezvous.

    Before I got the chance to retreat into the safety of my bedroom, bright-red hair rounded the corner and big lime-green eyes greeted me.

    ¡°Hey, Tal!¡± Penny waved with her free hand. She clutched a garment bag in the other one that I assumed held her chosen outfit.

    ¡°Hey, Penny,¡± I said, relieved that she was here.

    ¡°Was that Ursula I saw leaving?¡± she asked, squeezing past me into the tiny room. Penny tossed her belongings on my bed and settled into the desk chair.

    ¡°Um, yeah. She wants to come with us.¡± I laughed nervously. I didn¡¯t think that Penny would mind the company, but I knew that she¡¯d been looking forward to relaxing and letting loose. Ursula¡¯s presence might not make that possible.

    ¡°How do you feel about that?¡± Penny snorted, obviously remembering my insane jealousy when I saw Ursula flirting with Erik.

    ¡°Eh, whatever. She seems a little lonely. So if she wants to tag along, that¡¯s fine, I guess.¡± I closed the door and crossed back to the bathroom to finish my makeup.

    ¡°She¡¯d just better keep her hands off of Harris,¡± Penny called as I heard her rummaging through her own impressive makeup bag.

    ¡°I thought you two broke up?¡±

    ¡°Oh, we did,¡± Penny answered quickly. The hasty tone of her voice let me know that if I could see her face, it would match her hair. Maybe when Penny said that there were too many cute boys to be tied down to one, she was lying? ¡°But he¡¯s been calling a lot, and you know, I just don¡¯t want to see him with someone else.¡± I had to admit that I knew how she felt. I¡¯d been ready to draw blood when I saw Ursula touching Erik, and it wasn¡¯t like I had any claim to him.

    While we finished getting ready, Penny filled the conversation with trivial topics. I was glad; it was the first day in recent history that no one asked me how I was feeling or how I¡¯d slept or talked about the spy. It felt good, normal; and despite our added tagalong, I was determined to have a fantastic day.

    After we were dressed, primped, and gossiped out, I called Ursula and told her to meet us at the hover hangar in twenty minutes. Unfortunately, I still had to run by Medical before the fun could commence.

    Penny waited in the reception area while I received my daily dose of Dr. Thistler and her asinine questions. She reiterated Mac¡¯s insistence that I refrain from drinking and added that I should ¡°take it easy.¡± I promised that I would, and she released me to start my day.

    ¡°Ready?¡± I called to Penny as I exited the swinging doors. I rubbed the crook of my elbow absently, hoping that the needle marks would fade quickly; they didn¡¯t really go with my outfit.

    ¡°Let¡¯s get the party started!¡± Penny whooped, jumping to her feet.

    At the hangar, Penny signed out a hover plane while I waited outside for Ursula. I shifted uncomfortably in my gold flip-flops, wishing that she¡¯d hurry. I was eager to get going and get to Erik. Finally, Ursula¡¯s bushy hair came into view. She¡¯d changed into an equally curve-hugging red dress, and I hated to admit that she looked good. I glanced to where Penny was still talking to the hover guard and prayed, for her sake, that Harris wasn¡¯t interested in the older girl. When I looked back at Ursula, my stomach and mood plummeted¡ªshe wasn¡¯t alone. Cadence was with her.

    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    ¡°Hey, Talia!¡± Ursula called, giving me an overly enthusiastic wave. Cadence kept her beady eyes trained on the grass. Her shoulders were hunched over, and the black dress that she wore hung shapelessly on her angular body.

    ¡°Hey, Ursula,¡± I said tersely as they neared. Turning to Cadence, I said, ¡°Hey, I didn¡¯t know you¡¯d be joining us.¡± Cadence finally tore her gaze from the ground but looked at the hangar behind me instead of meeting my eyes when she spoke.

    ¡°Ursula practically begged me to come,¡± she replied, rolling her eyes to emphasize how little she looked forward to a day with me.

    ¡°Well, the more the merrier,¡± I shrugged, trying to sound like I was pleased by her unexpected appearance.

    Cadence mumbled something that sounded like ¡°whatever.¡±

    I turned to join Penny, and the two Instructors followed several paces behind. Penny¡¯s eyebrows shot skyward when her gaze landed on Cadence, but when she looked to me for answers, I just shrugged. I was also dreading spending the day with Cadence; but at least I could use the time to form a stronger connection with her, delve further into her mind, and maybe find out something useful.

    Ursula dominated the conversation on the ride to the city. She talked about all of the bars that we ¡°just had to go to¡± and which food vendors were ¡°to die for.¡± I listened without comment. While Penny and I had already made a mental list of the places we planned to visit, I really didn¡¯t care where we went, so long as I was able to spend the day with Erik.

    He was waiting, along with Harris and Henri, when we landed at TOXIC¡¯s parking garage in Southwest D.C.

    ¡°Erik!¡± Ursula exclaimed, running to greet him, her movements restricted by the constricting fabric she¡¯d squeezed herself into.

    ¡°Hey, Ursula.¡± He smiled, returning her hug half-heartedly. I gritted my teeth and swallowed my agitation.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± he sent. The dazzling smile that lit up his features extinguished my irritation before I could act on it. Once he disentangled himself from Ursula, he walked swiftly over to where I stood. Erik leaned down and planted a kiss on my cheek. ¡°You look nice,¡± he whispered.

    ¡°Thanks.¡± I beamed. And just like that, I forgot about Ursula and Cadence and the potentially ruined day because being close to him reminded me of why I¡¯d begged Mac to let me come in the first place.

    ¡°You¡¯ll have plenty of time to fondle each other later,¡± Henri interrupted, nudging Erik aside to wrap me in his long arms. ¡°It¡¯s good to see you again, Tal.¡±

    ¡°You, too,¡± I agreed, returning his embrace. ¡°Where¡¯s Frederick?¡± I inquired, glancing around to make sure that I hadn¡¯t missed him. Harris and Penny stood off to one side talking. She giggled as he tucked a loose strand of her hair behind one ear. Ursula had her hands propped on her hips, her eyes darting between me and Erik, deciphering our body language. Cadence stood off to the side, looking uncomfortable and out of place. I felt a pang of sympathy for her. I knew what it was like to be the outsider; that was what I¡¯d always been with Donavon and his friends.

    ¡°He¡¯s meeting us downtown. He went ahead to The Rooftop to get a table, so we can watch the parade from there,¡± Henri answered.

    ¡°Oh, I love The Rooftop!¡± Ursula squealed, clapping her hands like a child who¡¯d just been told that she was getting a new puppy.

    ¡°Well, let¡¯s go then,¡± Erik declared. He held his hand out to me, and I debated whether to take it. With Ursula and Cadence around, Donavon would be sure to hear a blow-by-blow account of our interactions. But we weren¡¯t dating, so it wasn¡¯t like I should feel badly about holding Erik¡¯s hand, right?

    Sensing my hesitancy, Erik let his hand drop; but I caught the flicker of hurt that crossed his features before he turned to start walking. Throwing caution to the wind, I grabbed his fingers and laced them with mine. I¡¯d deal with Donavon later.

    The Rooftop was a bar on top of the Woffard Hotel in the center of D.C. The sidewalk out front was lined with people eagerly awaiting their turn to ride the elevators to the twenty-first floor. Instead of leading us to the back of the crowd, Henri walked to the large man guarding the velvet-roped entrance. They exchanged several brief words, and then the man unhooked the rope and waved our party through. We boarded the glass elevator, and I watched as the city streets and their inhabitants grew smaller the higher we ascended.

    When we exited the car, a perky blonde with wide magenta eyes greeted us.

    ¡°Name of your party?¡± she asked pleasantly, already glancing down at her electronic clipboard while she waited for Henri to reply.

    ¡°Should be under Reich, but I think my boyfriend is already here?¡± Henri answered.

    The hostess ran a finger down the tablet until she found Henri¡¯s name and then nodded, confirming that we were on the list.

    ¡°Yes, he is. Follow me,¡± she gestured, turning to lead us through a throng of well-dressed partygoers.

    The space was open, and a light wind ruffled my hair as I clung to Erik so that we wouldn¡¯t get separated in the crowd. A ring of black leather booths decorated the perimeter of the bar, and she led us to one overlooking 15<sup>th</sup> Street below. A beautiful blonde man with delicate features and warm brown eyes sat in the center of the rounded bench, sipping from a glass of wine.

    ¡°Frederick!¡± I exclaimed, breaking free from Erik to greet Henri¡¯s boyfriend.

    ¡°Hi, sweetheart,¡± he kissed my cheek when I slid around the semicircle to sit next to him. ¡°How are you feeling?¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± I assured him, giving his hand a small squeeze. ¡°It¡¯s so good to see you,¡± I added. I¡¯d forgotten how much I enjoyed hanging out with him. Frederick was a gentle, easygoing guy and had a way of putting everyone around him at ease. He was the perfect complement to Henri¡¯s more rigid and controlled demeanor.

    ¡°Thanks for getting the table,¡± Henri said, sliding around to Frederick¡¯s other side.

    ¡°Sure.¡± Frederick gave his boyfriend an affectionate smile, and I felt the need to look away from the personal exchange.

    The others filled in the empty spaces, Erik sitting next to me with Penny and Harris on his other side. Ursula plopped down next to Henri, while Cadence sat awkwardly on the end, looking unsure why she was here. I shared her sentiments; why had she come?

    ¡°Cadence, this is Frederick.¡± Henri gestured, introducing the two. Frederick extended his hand and Cadence tentatively shook it. ¡°You know everyone else, right?¡± Henri asked his boyfriend. When Frederick agreed that he did, Henri flagged down a waitress and ordered several bottles of the featured Festivis Day wine and several appetizers for us all to share.

    Despite Mac¡¯s warning, I sipped my wine while everyone talked around me. I promised myself that one or two glasses would be fine, and I¡¯d need it if I was going to put up with Ursula¡¯s flamboyant attitude and Cadence¡¯s not-so-subtle death glares.

    My friends began a lively debate about the floats that would be in the parade. It surprised me that Ursula and Frederick seemed to know each pretty well; their teasing and easy banter suggested that they¡¯d known one another for some time. They were about the same age, I reasoned. Maybe they¡¯d been in school together?

    ¡°So, how are you really feeling?¡± Erik asked once everyone else was preoccupied.

    ¡°I¡¯m okay; no more seizures or anything like that,¡± I assured him.

    ¡°Good¡­did you talk to Donavon about what happened in Nevada?¡± Erik¡¯s turquoise irises shone with concern.

    ¡°Yeah. I asked him about the transfusion, and he said that he didn¡¯t want to tell me because he didn¡¯t want me to feel like I owed him anything.¡± I looked uncomfortably at my hands clasped in my lap. Erik pried one hand free and began tracing the lines of my palm.

    ¡°And do you, you know, feel like you owe him?¡± Erik¡¯s tone was tense, like our relationship hinged on my answer.

    ¡°No, of course not. He did save my life, but it¡¯s not like that,¡± I quickly assured him. I didn¡¯t feel like I owed Donavon anything, except maybe the truth about Erik.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t tell him about us?¡± Erik guessed, reading my thoughts.

    ¡°No. I was going to, but I don¡¯t know, Erik. Things are so complicated right now.¡±

    ¡°I see. You¡¯re having second thoughts about us.¡± He pulled his hand back and stared off across the bar at the crowd of people on the dance floor. Equal parts frustration and hurt radiated from his body.

    ¡°No! That¡¯s not what I mean. I want to be with you, but I want to be friends with him, too. He¡¯s been helping me so much, and we¡¯re working together.¡± I touched his forearm tentatively and willed him to look at me.

    ¡°So, are we friends, Tal? Is that what you want?¡± he demanded, refusing to turn to face me.

    ¡°Erik, please¡ªthat¡¯s not what I meant! I like you as more than a friend. I just need some time to tell Donavon,¡± I begged him. Why was nothing coming out right? It was like my thoughts were jumbled and I couldn¡¯t form the right words.

    Erik sighed and then finally turned to face me. But whatever he was about to say was interrupted by Harris.

    ¡°Would you two quit being so serious? The parade¡¯s about to start,¡± he declared, climbing over me and Erik to get a better view of the street.

    Sure enough, the entire crowd at The Rooftop was making their way to the railing, all clamoring to see the spectacle.

    I turned around and leaned over the back of our booth as elaborate floats and fire baton twirlers marched down 15<sup>th</sup> Street. Speakers began blasting the National Anthem, and off-key singers added their own accompaniment.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Tal. I don¡¯t want to push you into something that you¡¯re not ready for,¡± Erik sent, lightly running his palm up my spine. I shivered, goosebumps erupting all over my skin when he touched me.

    ¡°You¡¯re not. I do want this. I just think that Donavon should hear about it from me, and not someone else.¡± I wiggled around to face him, turning my back to the sword jugglers and waving politicians now delighting the crowd. Pinned against the booth, underneath Erik, I blushed at the intensity of his gaze. He wasn¡¯t watching the parade either. He slowly leaned down and kissed me softly. Not caring whether anyone was watching, I kissed him back, wrapping my arms around his neck.

 Chapter Sixty-Seven: The One Where the Mimic is Responsible

    ¡°Get a room,¡± Ursula called, playfully throwing a cheesy French fry that bounced off of Erik¡¯s back. Startled, Erik pulled away, but he didn¡¯t look the least bit embarrassed.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± I mumbled, mortified that she¡¯d called us out. I smoothed the silk of my dress back in place and sat back on the bench. I could feel her eyes on me, and I chanced a look in her direction. Her expression was unreadable, but she was projecting a sadness that I didn¡¯t understand. When she said that her friend had dated Erik, had she really been talking about herself? Surely not; I quickly dismissed the thought.

    The others settled back into their seats once the parade ended and resumed drinking from their wine glasses. Erik rested his arm over my shoulders, his fingers skimming my bare skin, and I found it hard to concentrate on the conversation. I, too sipped from my wine glass, but was careful not to overindulge. When Ursula ordered shots of bright red and blue layered liquors, I politely declined. To my surprise, Erik did, too. I glanced down at his barely touched wine and realized that he hadn¡¯t really been drinking at all. It was unusual for him since he was normally the one leading the drunken charge.

    After three rounds of the spirited shots, everyone, except Erik and me, was drunk. The conversation turned to gossip of mutual friends and people I didn¡¯t know, so I leaned against Erik and played the role of observer. It was nice to be away from school, Mac, and Donavon. As I listened to my friends, I forgot about my own problems. I found myself smiling as they recounted drunken tales from past nights out, and embarrassing school memories. I was reminded that there was life outside of TOXIC; a whole world existed beyond the perimeter of the campus that I¡¯d been confined to for the better part of a year.

    When Penny got up to use the bathroom, Ursula managed to finagle her way next to Harris and talked him into yet another shot. She trailed her perfectly painted nails¡ªtoday the same bright red as her dress¡ªup his arm when she spoke, and I had an urge to kick her. Watching her flirt with Harris was almost as infuriating as watching her flirt with Erik.

    As Penny returned to the table, she stopped short when she saw the way the two were canoodling, narrowing her eyes at Harris. Pain and regret contorted her features into an ugly grimace as she took a seat next to Cadence. Incensed on Penny¡¯s behalf, I waited for Ursula to take a drink, then forced the glass to tip until the contents poured down the front of her dress.

    ¡°Oh, my God!¡± she exclaimed, jumping from the booth.

    I met Penny¡¯s eyes across the table, letting her know that it had been me. Her hand flew to her mouth as she tried to suppress a fit of drunken giggles.

    ¡°Tal!¡± Erik exclaimed in my head. ¡°I can¡¯t believe you did that!¡±

    ¡°Sorry,¡± I said sheepishly, though I wasn¡¯t sorry at all. Sure, it had been a mean thing to do, but Penny was upset, and I didn¡¯t like it. And maybe I was still a little miffed about the way she¡¯d taunted Kenly, and about her hand on Erik¡¯s arm at the dinner.

    Despite Erik¡¯s comment, he was also trying to hide his amusement as Ursula blotted uselessly at the front of her ruined dress. The only other person who seemed to realize what I¡¯d done was Cadence. She eyed me suspiciously across the table. I met her beady gaze boldly, daring her to say something. Cadence pursed her lips and kept her mouth shut.

    Ursula excused herself to tend to her dress. Penny glared at Harris, but he was too drunk to notice that she was upset. Well, this was shaping up to be a super fun day.

    ¡°Tal, she¡¯s a really nice girl. Give her a chance,¡± Erik chided. ¡°She¡¯s just a flirt; that¡¯s who she is.¡±

    ¡°Sorry,¡± I sent back. This time I really did feel bad; the trick had been petty. Impulse control was definitely something that I needed to work on.

    ¡°Do you guys want to go somewhere else?¡± Frederick asked, picking up the last bottle of wine and emptying the contents into his glass.

    ¡°Yeah, let¡¯s go get some real dinner somewhere. I think we need to soak up some of the alcohol,¡± Henri agreed, glancing at the pile of crumpled napkins that Ursula had used to sop up the spilled wine.

    Once Ursula returned, we made our way through the thinning crowd and descended back to street level. Frederick navigated our way through the pedestrians on the sidewalk, ducking into a place called the Old Crow several blocks away. The restaurant was packed, but most of the people were dancing, so we were able to get a table and order dinner.

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    Ursula wiggled her way next to Harris, but when she went to sit in the chair next to him, she missed and fell to the dirty floor in an ungraceful heap. The one glass of wine had gone straight to my head, and I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing out loud as I stared at her sprawled on the ground.

    ¡°Damn, Ursula. Are you okay?¡± Erik rushed to her side since Harris was oblivious to the fact that she¡¯d fallen. Erik grabbed her upper arm and hauled to her feet. Then his eyes narrowed on me.

    ¡°Come on, Tal. The first time was funny, but that was just mean.¡± He gave me a pointed look.

    ¡°Erik, I swear that wasn¡¯t me!¡± I sent. It really hadn¡¯t been. The chair had seemed to disappear beneath her, causing her to misjudge its position. I hadn¡¯t used telekinesis to move it. Wait, disappear and reappear? That was light manipulation, Cadence¡¯s specialty. I looked in her direction, but the blank expression on her scrunched features gave no indication as to whether she was the one to play the nasty trick.

    ¡°Ursula is just drunk,¡± I added silently to Erik. He didn¡¯t look completely convinced of my innocence, but he couldn¡¯t argue with my statement. Ursula was clearly drunk, and she was laughing hysterically now that the initial shock had worn off. Erik helped her into the fully visible chair, then made his way around the table to sit next to me. Clearly irritated, he refused to look at me. Feeling guilty for something that I didn¡¯t do, I silently flipped through my menu.

    The rest of dinner was uneventful. Erik¡¯s annoyance with me didn¡¯t last through our drink orders, so I quickly forgot that Ursula had managed to fall off a chair that hadn¡¯t been there. Penny and Harris were once again chatting comfortably, and I figured that she must be drunk enough to forget her earlier irritation.

    Since Cadence had consumed enough alcohol to drown a cat, I figured that her guard would be down. I tried to read her mind, but¡ªamazingly¡ªher walls were still firmly in place. Despite that, her feelings apparently couldn¡¯t be contained; and all of a sudden I was overcome by a fierce hatred. Cadence¡¯s loathing burned deep inside of her. No concrete images leaked through, only a collage of colorful emotions: white fury, red rage, and black guilt. Normally she was able to smother the flames, but the alcohol seemed to weaken her resistance. I started coughing, hastily reached for my water glass, and brought it to my lips. The cold liquid was like a shock to my system, severing the tenuous connection to Cadence.

    ¡°Tal? You okay?¡± Erik asked, concern lacing his every word.

    ¡°Huh? Yeah, fine,¡± I mumbled, between gulps of water. Maybe I¡¯d been a little quick to discount Cadence. She¡¯d made it obvious from day one that we weren¡¯t friends. I¡¯d written off her dislike since it seemed to stem from jealousy, but now I wasn¡¯t so sure. While I couldn¡¯t be positive that her hatred was directed at me, the intensity and depth of it were alarming nonetheless. I needed to have a closer look at both her and her brother¡¯s files.

    Erik continued to watch me through dinner. He knew that something had upset me, but he didn¡¯t pry. I made weak attempts to reassure him that I was okay. And I really was as long as I stayed in my own head.

    I stole glances at Cadence, but didn¡¯t open my mind back up to hers. I¡¯d seen her in class and in training on her own, so I knew that she was incredibly focused and calculated. Watching her now, I realized that she carried those traits through to every task. When she cut the meat on her plate, she did so with surgeon-like precision. She chewed every piece of food exactly the same number of times as the one before it. Every third bite she took a drink from her wineglass. Each move that she made was perfectly timed and deliberate.

    I tried to envision her as a traitor. I conjured up images of Cadence skulking in darkened alleys and having clandestine meetings with men in trench coats. I envisioned her hiding in a broom closet in the Crypto Bank, waiting for an opportunity to tiptoe into an empty computer lab and hack into the system. Admittedly, my imagination was running a little wild, but her brother was currently imprisoned for aiding the escape of a Coalition Operative. Maybe she shared his ideals? Maybe he¡¯d gotten her involved with Ian Crane? I definitely needed to take a second, much closer, look at Randy and Cadence Choi.

    After dinner Frederick suggested that we all stay at his house since Penny was no longer fit to drive.

    ¡°I really can¡¯t. Mac made me promise that I would be back at a decent time. I can drive,¡± I added, noting the way that Penny was leaning on Harris for support.

    ¡°Are you sure that¡¯s a good idea?¡± Erik asked hesitantly. ¡°I mean, you aren¡¯t really allowed to drive...¡±

    ¡°I know, but I think that Mac would be less upset if I drove than if I stayed in the city,¡± I pointed out. I wasn¡¯t entirely sure that was true; he would probably have preferred that I¡¯d been responsible enough to demand one of my friends stay sober.

    ¡°How about this: I¡¯ll take Talia back and you guys can stay at Frederick¡¯s. Henri, I¡¯ll come get you tomorrow?¡± Erik offered.

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to do that. I don¡¯t want to cause you any trouble,¡± I muttered, although I secretly liked the idea of spending the ride alone with Erik.

    ¡°It¡¯s no trouble, and I¡¯ve barely had anything to drink, so I¡¯m good,¡± he promised me. ¡°That cool with everyone?¡±

    Only Cadence looked like she wanted to protest, but Ursula didn¡¯t give her the chance.

    ¡°Totally,¡± she declared, ¡°let¡¯s pick up some more wine on the way back!¡±

    After I made sure that Penny would be okay if I left her, as if the puppy-dog-eyes she was making at Harris weren¡¯t enough of an indication, Erik and I said our goodbyes. Then he took my hand and led me back to the hover garage. The streets were still filled with people, and I wished that Mac hadn¡¯t placed such strict rules on my outing. Yet even as I thought it, I realized that I was exhausted. It was late, and we¡¯d been partying all day. My bed sounded more appealing by the minute.

 Chapter Sixty-Eight: The One Under the Stars

    ¡°Did you have fun?¡± Erik asked once we were airborne.

    ¡°Yeah, I did.¡± I smiled at him across the darkness. The muscles in his forearms twisted as he maneuvered the vehicle through the air, and a lock of dark hair curled over his forehead. I wound my fingers together in my lap to keep from reaching over to push the strands back.

    ¡°What?¡± he asked, tearing his eyes away from the sky when he felt me staring.

    ¡°Nothing,¡± I said hastily, feeling my face color with embarrassment.

    ¡°Admiring the view?¡± he teased.

    ¡°Something like that,¡± I mumbled.

    Erik laughed, and reached one hand over to rub my bare shoulder.

    ¡°Yeah. Me, too.¡±

    His thumb stroked the hollow of my collarbone and I leaned into his touch, nuzzling the back of his hand with my cheek. Erik let his fingers dip a little lower toying with the neckline of my dress. I inhaled sharply and Erik swerved.

    ¡°You should keep your hands on the wheel,¡± I choked out.

    ¡°Nervous, Tals?¡± he chided me. I knew that he wasn¡¯t referencing his driving abilities.

    Erik laughed again, trailing his fingers down my bare arm on the way to my hand. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I won¡¯t crash,¡± he promised, raising our hands to his lips. He kissed the inside of my wrist, his lips lingering on my jumping pulse. I melted like hot candle wax. Just then, I didn¡¯t care if we did crash.

    Despite his taunting and teasing on the ride, Erik made no move to get out of the vehicle when we landed. He left the engine idling when he turned to kiss me goodbye.

    ¡°Want to stay for a little?¡± I asked, not wanting our time together to end so soon. ¡°I know that it¡¯s late, so I understand if you¡¯d rather just go back to headquarters,¡± I rushed on when he didn¡¯t answer right away.

    ¡°You sure?¡± he asked, searching my face for the answer. Apparently his games were just that¡ªgames. He might toy with me, but he wasn¡¯t going to let it go any further until I told him that it was okay.

    ¡°Of course, I just need to tell Janet I¡¯m back so she won¡¯t worry,¡± I confirmed.

    Erik turned off the engine and we set off for my room. Once inside, I called Janet and let her know that I was safe and in for the evening. I didn¡¯t bother to tell her about my guest; Mac hadn¡¯t specifically forbidden visitors, but I doubted that he¡¯d approve.

    Erik suggested that I change into jeans and a t-shirt, so that we could go for a walk around the grounds. I¡¯d been hoping for something more along the lines of lying in my bed, but he was insistent, so I complied.

    Once we were out of the dorms, Erik took my hand and led me through a wooded area that I was pretty sure was off limits.

    ¡°Where are we going?¡± I asked suspiciously.

    ¡°You¡¯ll see. It¡¯s one of my favorite places,¡± he added, tugging my hand to make sure that I¡¯d follow.

    After several more minutes of traipsing through heavy underbrush, we emerged at a gate. Erik released his grip on my hand and began peeling back the metal fencing from its post. When the hole was wide enough for us to fit through, he took my hand again and pulled me to the other side. There was only about ten feet of solid ground, then the rocky ledge dropped off.

    Erik pulled me to the edge and sat, letting his feet dangle over the side. I tentatively sank down beside him, peering into the abyss below.

    ¡°You can see over three states from right here,¡± he said wistfully, pointing to the lights littering the landscape. ¡°That¡¯s Virginia,¡± he pointed to the south. ¡°That¡¯s West Virginia,¡± he added pointing slightly to the north, ¡°and, of course, we¡¯re in Maryland.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s beautiful,¡± I breathed. It was. From our vantage point, I could see for miles. In the distance, the lights from small towns still glowed brightly. The stars seemed closer here, exceptionally lovely against the black backdrop.

    ¡°Sure is,¡± he agreed, but Erik wasn¡¯t looking at the scenery anymore.

    I blushed, thankful that there wasn¡¯t enough light for him to see the color in my cheeks.

    Erik wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me closer. I rested my head against his shoulder and closed my eyes, absorbing the calm that had settled over him. He trailed his fingers up my side above my t-shirt, making slow, lazy lines up and down my ribcage. His heart pounded, and I knew that he wanted to explore more than the cotton.

    I stretched to kiss just underneath his chin. Erik sighed happily.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to pressure you, Tal,¡± he mumbled softly toying with the hem of my tee.

    ¡°You¡¯re not,¡± I promised, twisting my body closer to his.

    Erik dipped his head so that our lips met and slid his hand underneath my shirt, resting it on the waistband of my jeans. He kissed me softly, chastely at first, but when I opened my mouth, he didn¡¯t hold back. His fingers crept over the bullet scars, and though I could tell that marred flesh unnerved him, he didn¡¯t shy away.

    The fingers of Erik¡¯s other hand found their way up to the back of my neck and he began massaging the tension away. I moaned against his mouth. I felt like I should¡¯ve been embarrassed by my audible reaction, but it seemed to encourage him more. He lay back on the dirt ledge and pulled me down, so that I was leaning over him. I planted my hands on his biceps, and his mouth left mine to trail kisses down my throat.

    Being with Erik, touching him and having him touch me, I felt alive and sane and normal for the first time in months. I didn¡¯t want him to stop. I wanted to live in this moment forever. He wasn¡¯t treating me as though I might break; he didn¡¯t care that I was scarred. His mind was open, his feelings on full display. I didn¡¯t worry that he was keeping secrets or was lying to me; I knew what he wanted and I wanted it, too.

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    When his fingers found my bra clasp, I started to tremble, and Erik hesitated.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Erik,¡± I promised.

    ¡°You¡¯re shaking, Tals,¡± he sent back, sounding more than a little worried.

    ¡°I¡¯m just cold,¡± I insisted. But even as I thought it, the trembling began to increase and I collapsed onto Erik¡¯s chest, tremors running through my entire body.

    ¡°Tal? Tal, are you okay?¡± His hands flew to my face and cupped my cheeks, forcing my face up so that he could look at me.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I chattered, my teeth painfully clanging together.

    Erik scurried to a sitting position and gathered me into his lap. He stroked my hair and made soft, soothing noises. When the trembling didn¡¯t subside, Erik sent me waves of calming thoughts, and I clung to them. Desperately, I willed myself to not have a seizure. This couldn¡¯t be happening; I didn¡¯t want him to see me like this. He was the only person who didn¡¯t think that I was on the edge, but once he realized how sick I was, he would run.

    ¡°I¡¯m here, Tal; you¡¯re okay,¡± he whispered, rocking me back and forth.

    I relaxed. He was here, and he wasn¡¯t running away screaming. Erik was slowly taking control of my mind, reading my every thought and dispelling every panicked belief.

    ¡°Just let go, Tal. Let me do this,¡± he urged, his voice was calm, strong, and determined. He wasn¡¯t scared; he wasn¡¯t afraid that I might hurt him. I released the small amount of control over my mind that I had left.

    ¡°Good. Now breathe, slowly in and out,¡± he ordered gently.

    Erik¡¯s manipulation slowly started to work. My teeth stopped chattering first, and my jaw muscles unclenched.

    ¡°You¡¯re doing good. Keep breathing,¡± he said, running his palm up and down my back.

    Every muscle that he touched relaxed under his hand. Soon the tremors died down until only my hands shook with small aftershocks. Erik still didn¡¯t let go; he held me tighter, and continued to control my thoughts. He didn¡¯t release my mind until my body went still.

    ¡°I think I¡¯m okay now,¡± I mumbled, completely mortified now that I was in control. What guy wanted to make out with a girl who convulsed every time he touched her?

    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Tal. I shouldn¡¯t have pushed you,¡± he whispered, still rocking me gently. ¡°But I¡¯m going to need a lot of cold showers if this happens every time,¡± he teased.

    I smiled in spite of myself, but it quickly faded.

    ¡°Aren¡¯t you turned off by me?¡± I whispered.

    ¡°Turned off? Why would I be?¡± He seemed offended that I would even ask.

    ¡°Because I¡¯m sick, Erik. I¡¯m diseased. These seizures aren¡¯t stopping, and they¡¯re no closer to finding a cure!¡± I exclaimed, trying to wiggle out of his arms.

    Erik let me struggle, but he was so much stronger that my efforts didn¡¯t get me far.

    ¡°Stop, Tal,¡± he said when my attempts became weaker, more pathetic. ¡°I don¡¯t care about the seizures, and I¡¯m not going anywhere. I¡¯m in this for as long as you want me, do you understand?¡± Erik chanced freeing one of his arms from my waist and tipped my chin up, forcing me to look him in the face. His voice was firm, almost angry, and his eyes blazed with a bluish fire.

    I nodded slowly. I hated that he knew how worried I¡¯d been about him leaving because he¡¯d read it in my mind. Erik¡¯s expression softened when he stared into my eyes.

    ¡°So, is this going to happen every time I touch you, or should I just avoid certain areas?¡± he smiled mischievously. Without giving me time to answer, he planted his lips firmly on mine, holding my chin in place so that I couldn¡¯t pull away. Not that I wanted to pull away. When the episode started, I thought for sure that this would be the end. Now I knew that I could count on him, trust him, and he would be there if I needed him. But he also wasn¡¯t going to walk on eggshells with me; the way his mouth was moving across my jaw and down my throat let me know that he was still reckless, and would deal with the consequences if they came.

    ¡°Is this okay?¡± he teased, nudging the neckline of my shirt aside and kissing my collarbone. He moved his mouth across my shoulder and nipped softly before looking up at me. He still wanted me, I could see that, but he was just teasing me now. He had no intention of actually trying anything more tonight, but his point came across loud and clear.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Dr. Thistler told me that overstimulation triggers the seizures,¡± I said, wishing that he wouldn¡¯t stop but knowing that it was probably for the best.

    Erik actually laughed.

    ¡°So, you¡¯re saying that I overstimulate you?¡± he joked, pushing my hair back to kiss my cheek. My face flamed. That was what I meant, just not what I meant to say aloud. I couldn¡¯t formulate words to answer his chiding. Erik laughed again.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be embarrassed. I want to overstimulate you.¡±

    ¡°Thanks, Erik,¡± I whispered, kissing the corner of his mouth.

    Erik swallowed hard. ¡°I¡¯m here for you, always,¡± he promised. ¡°Why don¡¯t I walk you back? I think you¡¯ve had enough for tonight.¡±

    ¡°Just a couple more minutes,¡± I urged. ¡°I don¡¯t want to be alone yet.¡±

    ¡°Only if you promise that you won¡¯t get overstimulated again,¡± he teased.

    ¡°Just tonight, or in general?¡± I said back, playing along.

    ¡°Just tonight. We¡¯ll figure something out after that.¡±

    I stayed in Erik¡¯s arms for another hour, talking while he rubbed my back. We talked about his letter, and he told me about his mother¡¯s death. When the fury and anguish began to build as he recalled the memories, I returned his earlier favor and dulled the emotions. He told me about his father and his brothers, Edmund and Evan. I felt his comfort when he thought that at least his sacrifice had been worth it.

    ¡°You¡¯re really sure that Donavon hasn¡¯t told anyone about the letter?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, positive,¡± I said. I hesitated before adding, ¡°he did read it though.¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t blame him for that. I would have, too.¡± Erik sighed. ¡°What¡¯s he doing here, anyway?¡±

    Mac didn¡¯t want me talking to very many people about the whole spy thing, but I knew that I could trust Erik; I¡¯d trusted him since the moment I met him. So I told him about the spy and my unofficial assignment to find him.

    ¡°Mac thinks that my whole mission to Nevada was a trap. He thinks that we have a spy, a traitor in the Agency.¡±

    ¡°Of course, we do,¡± he scoffed.

    ¡°You knew that we had a spy?¡± I asked, shocked.

    ¡°We probably have a ton of them. It only makes sense. We have a number of spies inside the Coalition. Why wouldn¡¯t Crane have spies placed here? If McDonough thinks otherwise, he¡¯s deluded. What makes him think that your mission was a trap?¡±

    I hadn¡¯t even considered that. Of course, Ian Crane would have infiltrated our ranks. How else did he stay so well hidden?

    ¡°Crane knew that I was coming; he was waiting for me. He knew who I was,¡± I rambled.

    ¡°Have you found anything?¡± Erik asked.

    ¡°No; it¡¯s so frustrating. Sometimes I feel like I have no suspects, and sometimes I feel as if I have too many. And then Penny seems to think that maybe Crane just recognized me and that we don¡¯t have a spy at all!¡± I shook my head, agitated; just thinking about the fruitless endeavor got me worked up.

    ¡°Well, we definitely have spies. Whether that is how Crane knew who you were, I can¡¯t say,¡± Erik shrugged against my back. ¡°Wish I could be more helpful.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s just nice to be able to talk to someone who doesn¡¯t overthink everything I say,¡± I said.

    We talked about the blood transfusion for a while, and Erik couldn¡¯t fathom a reason for Mac to keep it a secret either. Just like with the spy business, it was nice to speak freely without worrying that I might get in trouble for my doubts and beliefs.

    When he finally deposited me in my room, I didn¡¯t want to let him go. But the sky was already fading from black to vibrant pinks and oranges, and I knew that he should leave¡ªMac was not going to like his all-night visit. When I put my arms around him to hug him goodbye, he pushed me against the door, not concerned whether I became overstimulated, and crushed his mouth to mine. I didn¡¯t care either. I kissed him back, letting him into my heart and my mind.

    My unchaste thoughts got Erik very worked up and he pulled back, holding me at arm¡¯s length pressed against the door.

    ¡°You¡¯d better go to bed, Tals,¡± he panted, his eyes deep intense pools of turquoise liquid.

    ¡°When will I see you again?¡± I whispered.

    ¡°Soon,¡± he promised. ¡°If the Director let you go to Festivis, then I bet he¡¯ll let you come into the city again. We¡¯ll work it out.¡±

 Chapter Sixty-Nine: The One with the Traitor Brother

    There was still another day left of Festivis break, so I didn¡¯t have any classes to attend. After just two hours of sleep, I made a brief stop at Medical. Dr. Thistler took one look at my puffy eyes and promptly launched into a long lecture about the merits of getting enough sleep. I listened politely and assured her that I would be sure to remember that for the future.

    Penny was already waiting for me when I arrived at the Crypto Bank, and she looked awful. She was wearing torn jeans and a rumpled white t-shirt that sported several coffee stains. Her hair was piled in a messy knot on the top of her head, and red cobwebs spiked around her lime-green irises.

    ¡°Hey,¡± she called, rubbing her temples.

    ¡°Hey, how are you feeling?¡± I asked, mirroring Penny¡¯s wince at the sound of my voice.

    ¡°Promise me that next time someone offers me a shot, you¡¯ll say no,¡± Penny moaned, then took a long swallow from her steaming mug.

    ¡°I¡¯ll try,¡± I promised, positive that once Penny was feeling better, she¡¯d conveniently forget this conversation. It wasn¡¯t as though this was the first hangover that I¡¯d watched her nurse.

    Taking a seat in my chair, I hit the power button on the keyboard. The monitors sprang to life before my eyes. I typed my passwords into the white boxes and waited while the Operatives¡¯ files loaded.

    ¡°Where¡¯s Gemma?¡± I asked, nodding to the chair that the girl normally occupied.

    ¡°Um, she went home for the holiday. Hopefully she¡¯ll be back tomorrow¡ªI haven¡¯t accomplished anything without her.¡±

    I glanced over at Penny. She stared blankly at the scrolling gibberish of numbers and letters running down the screen in front of her. My heart went out to her. Sure, getting drunk was her own fault, but I hated how miserable she seemed.

    ¡°Did you at least have fun while it lasted?¡± I joked.

    Penny managed something between a smile and a grimace.

    ¡°Yeah, I had a great time last night. It wasn¡¯t until this morning that I started hating life.¡±

    ¡°So you and Harris kissed and made up?¡± I teased.

    ¡°The end of the night is a little fuzzy, but yeah, I think that we did.¡± She giggled, then immediately seemed to regret it. She massaged the crown of her head.

    ¡°How about you? I noticed that Erik didn¡¯t leave until this morning¡­¡± Penny tried to shoot me a sly smile, but it appeared to hurt her face too much.

    ¡°We just talked,¡± I mumbled, blushing as I recalled what happened on the ledge. ¡°How did you know when he left?¡± I added suspiciously. I didn¡¯t mind Penny knowing about my overnight tryst; I would¡¯ve told her anyway. Maybe not all of it, but I didn¡¯t think that she¡¯d have much interest in the touchy-feely heart-to-heart moments anyway.

    ¡°Hover records.¡± Penny shrugged, looking only the tiniest bit guilty about checking up on us. ¡°When I signed in this morning, I saw that he¡¯d just signed out.¡±

    Hover records; I hadn¡¯t even thought about that. If Penny noticed, then someone else¡ªsay, Mac¡ªmight, too.

    ¡°Anything you want to tell me?¡± she teased, using a great deal of effort to widen her eyes suggestively.

    ¡°No, nosey, there isn¡¯t. Like I said, we mostly just talked.¡± I rolled my eyes, but the blush returned to my cheeks. If we didn¡¯t change topics soon, I might get overstimulated just sitting here.

    ¡°Uh huh, sure.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll be the first to know,¡± I promised her.

    ¡°I¡¯d better be.¡± She gave me her best impression of a stern look. ¡°Alright, enough gossip. Where do you want to start today?¡±

    ¡°I want to take a closer look at Cadence¡¯s brother,¡± I began. While I¡¯d pretty much ruled her out as the spy, I didn¡¯t have any better leads, and I figured that covering all of my bases couldn¡¯t hurt. Even now, the memory of her intense emotions caused me to shiver uncomfortably.

    ¡°Okay, what¡¯s his name?¡± Penny asked.

    ¡°Randy Choi. He¡¯s imprisoned at Tramblewood.¡±

    Penny paled to match her tee.

    ¡°Oh, yeah. He¡¯s the guy who helped that Coalition woman escape. Let me see if I can find the incident report.¡± Penny¡¯s fingers flew across the keys, entering search terms into boxes that popped up on her screen. ¡°Here, sending it now.¡±

    ¡°Thanks.¡±

    My monitor instantly went black and then a report filled the screen. I began to read. Six years ago, Randy Choi was arrested for helping Ellen Larson escape from Tramblewood Correctional Facility. Larson had been imprisoned after she was caught breaking onto school grounds. Using psychic interrogation, Dr. Wythe had determined that she was a member of the Coalition. The mention of Dr. Wythe gave me unpleasant reminders of my time in his office; his probing questions and suggestive counseling techniques were not something that I wished on anyone.

    I knew from Cadence¡¯s file that Larson was Crane¡¯s sister, but seeing the relationship now was still unsettling. When I thought about Crane, I never really considered the fact that he had a family. To me, he was this monster, a beast that had no regard for the pain that his actions inflicted. To me, he was my parents¡¯ murderer. But to Ellen, he¡¯d been a brother, a friend. Maybe to someone else, he was a father, a son, a husband. I didn¡¯t like to think of him that way; it made him too human.

    Dr. Wythe had diagnosed Ellen as ¡°crazy¡± and ¡°delusional¡± based on her ¡°outrageous claims,¡± but there was no mention of what her actual claims were. I scanned through the rest of the twenty-page report but couldn¡¯t find anything useful.

    ¡°Is there anything else about this?¡± I asked Penny.

    She didn¡¯t answer right away. When I looked in her direction, her head was resting on top of her crossed arms on the desk.

    ¡°Penny?¡± I shook her shoulder gently, prodding her awake.

    ¡°Hmmm,¡± she mumbled, wiping the back of her hand across her mouth.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± I apologized, hating to disturb her. ¡°I was just wondering if there is anything else about Randy¡¯s interrogation or this woman, Ellen Larson.¡±

    Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

    ¡°Crap, did I fall asleep?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, kinda.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll check; gimme a minute.¡± Drowsily, Penny returned her attention to the computer and searched for Randy Choi and Ellen Larson. ¡°Um, his official interrogation report is sealed, but I can call the Director tomorrow and have it unlocked if you want. There is one other report that mentions Ellen Larson¡ªlooks like after she escaped from Tramblewood she was caught just before she could cross the border into the Coalition¡¯s territory and was killed.¡± Penny¡¯s voice wavered slightly when she said the last part, and I gave her a worried look. ¡°I¡¯ll send it to your computer.¡±

    ¡°Thanks,¡± I said. I tried to get a better handle on her emotions, but her face was now composed, and I wondered if maybe I¡¯d imagined her reaction.

    When the report appeared on my screen, I started reading. Ellen had refused to surrender when TOXIC¡¯s guards had caught up with her, and she¡¯d lost her life as a result. I understood Penny¡¯s pain when I saw the photographs of the woman¡¯s mangled body. She hadn¡¯t just been shot; she¡¯d been torn apart. The automatic weapons the Operatives had used destroyed Ellen¡¯s features, making her virtually unrecognizable. Disgusted, I quickly clicked through the pictures to the end of the report. I shuddered. What an awful way to die.

    You have no idea what your Agency does to innocent people.

    But Ellen Larson wasn¡¯t an innocent person; she¡¯d been one of them. Why had she been trying to break into the School? Of all the TOXIC facilities, it seemed like the place that would be of least interest to the Coalition. What had she been looking for?

    ¡°Do you want me to have Randy¡¯s file unsealed?¡± Penny asked beside me.

    Tearing my eyes away from the screen, I nodded. ¡°Yeah, thanks.¡±

    ¡°Approval has to come from the Director, I think, but I can try Janet if you want to see it today.¡±

    ¡°Um, yeah, call Janet,¡± I decided. I wasn¡¯t sure how important the file would prove to be, but it was the most solid lead that I had.

    Penny picked up the communicator on the desk and dialed. When Janet answered, she agreed to unseal the record and have it sent to my computer. As promised, several minutes later I had an incoming message.

    I opened the email and began quickly scanning the contents.

    Just like with Ellen, Dr. Wythe concluded that Randy was ¡°delusional¡± and his claims were ¡°unsubstantiated.¡± And just like with Ellen, there was no indication of what that actually meant. I wondered whether the report had been redacted or was purposely left vague. I resolved to ask Mac when he returned.

    After leaving Penny for the day, I headed back to my room. The campus was eerily quiet since the students and Instructors that went home for the holiday wouldn¡¯t return until the following day.

    When I passed Medical, I detoured, deciding to visit Ernest. I hadn¡¯t seen him in a couple of days, and while I doubted that his condition had improved, I wanted to check on him.

    I wound through the long corridors of the facility until I reached the Psychiatric Ward. Today, Ernest was propped up in a large recliner in the corner of his room. His hazel eyes darted in my direction when I entered, but they remained unfocused, and I knew that he didn¡¯t actually see me.

    Feeling a rush of sadness, I pulled a chair next to his and sat. Dr. Thistler had said that a memory implantation was too risky, but the emptiness inside of his mind broke my heart.

    I took one of his limp hands in mine, closed my eyes, and concentrated on the images that I¡¯d pulled from his head. Selecting his childhood memories first, I projected the scenes toward him. At first nothing happened; the same hollowness remained. I focused harder, and then slowly a faint smile graced his lips. It was all the encouragement that I needed, and I pushed more and more of his memories at him.

    The effort proved to be too much for both of us. Ernest¡¯s smile was quickly replaced with a grimace, and he started to shake. He wasn¡¯t the only one; my hands trembled and my peripheral vision darkened. Pulling back before I lost consciousness, I slumped against the back of my chair, panting. My head felt two sizes too big, and sweat trickled down the sides of my face. Dr. Thistler was right: Memory re-implantation was not easy.

    When I looked at Ernest, his eyes held a spark of life and wisps of thought floated through his head like smoke. I knew then that the physical toll the effort had taken on me was worth it. I wouldn¡¯t be able to restore him completely, at least not in one session, but I felt confident that in time I¡¯d be able to give him back the life that I¡¯d stolen.

    Completely exhausted, I stumbled back to Instructor housing. A comm from Erik waited for me, and I grinned stupidly as I hit reply and flopped onto my bed. He didn¡¯t answer, so I left him a message, sad that I couldn¡¯t at least hear his voice after what I¡¯d just done.

    I didn¡¯t have the energy to pull myself out of bed to brush my teeth and wash my face; instead, I just closed my eyes and fell into a dreamless sleep.

    The next morning, it was back to business as usual. Donavon hadn¡¯t called me once over the holiday and didn¡¯t meet me for breakfast in the cafeteria. I sat alone in a corner, picking at my food until the cleaning staff began to wipe down the tables. I contemplated reaching out to him mentally, but I was afraid that he would block my attempts. Numbly, I moved through the rest of my day.

    I spent more time than usual reading to Ernest. The Medicals assigned to his unit no longer questioned my presence; Dr. Thistler had told them that as long as Ernest didn¡¯t become agitated, I could sit with him for as long as I liked. Secretly, I figured that Mac had been the one to give the go-ahead since nothing around here happened without Mac¡¯s say-so.

    That train of thought brought me back to Erik¡¯s letter and what he¡¯d told me on the ledge. Had Mac known about the raid? Had he approved the exchange of Erik¡¯s service for the lives of his remaining family members? Worst of all, had Mac been the one to broker the deal? Erik hadn¡¯t named the devil he¡¯d sold his soul to, and I now wondered if that had been intentional. He¡¯d wanted me to believe him, and accusing Mac of something so heinous wouldn¡¯t have helped in that department. Originally I tried not to give too much thought to Mac¡¯s potential involvement, but now I really needed to know.

    I considered looking up the report on the raid of Erik¡¯s family and his subsequent collection. The names of the TOXIC men involved would be listed. However, as much as I wanted to know, I also wasn¡¯t eager to verify that Mac was keeping another secret from me.

    When I arrived at the Crypto Bank, Penny and Gemma were in their usual positions. They both smiled when I entered. Since I¡¯d spent more time than I usually did with Ernest, I set right to work on my never-ending task of analyzing Operatives¡¯ files.

    ¡°What are you doing this afternoon?¡± I asked Penny, gathering my belongings in preparation to leave for Annalise¡¯s class.

    ¡°You¡¯re looking at it.¡± She gestured to the scrolling lines of text on her monitors.

    ¡°Any interest in helping with Kenly?¡±

    ¡°I thought that Donavon was helping?¡±

    ¡°He kinda gave up,¡± I mumbled.

    Penny shot me a relieved smile. I knew that the less time I spent with Donavon, the happier she was.

    ¡°Sure, I¡¯ll help. I mean, I doubt that I¡¯ll really be any help; but if you want company, I¡¯m game,¡± she said.

    ¡°Thanks, Penny. Meet us at the practice arena at the end of the school day?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be there.¡± She smiled.

    During lunch, I tracked down Cadence. Her brother¡¯s file had been too sparse to get any useful information; if I wanted answers about Randy Choi, I¡¯d have to ask his sister directly.

    Cadence sat alone in the corner of the cafeteria, angrily stabbing carrots into a blob of ranch dressing.

    ¡°May I sit?¡± I asked, approaching from her right side.

    Cadence glared at me through long, black lashes. ¡°If you must.¡±

    Taking that as an invitation, I sank into the seat beside her. I started in on my own lunch of meat loaf and sweet corn, watching her out of the corner of one eye.

    ¡°What do you want, Talia?¡± she asked after I¡¯d taken several bites.

    I swallowed, debating whether I should gradually lead up to my ultimate question or just go for it. I had a sneaking suspicion that Cadence might not sit here long enough for me to beat around the bush. Unless I wanted to actively control her in a room full of other people, there was nothing I could do to make her stay. I dove right in.

    ¡°I want to know about your brother, Randy,¡± I said evenly.

    Cadence¡¯s expression went blank and she just stared at me; it was a little unnerving.

    ¡°He¡¯s a traitor. He can rot in jail for all I care,¡± she replied calmly.

    Her words held the same amount of emotion that someone would use when talking about the weather. The inflection was flat, like she¡¯d repeated the phrase so many times that the words had ceased to hold meaning. I felt the same hatred that I¡¯d felt at the Old Crow trickling from her mind. It wasn¡¯t gushing like a burst pipe, the way that it had been that day, but it was definitely still there. I wasn¡¯t sure then whether the feelings were towards me, and now I still couldn¡¯t tell. If I didn¡¯t know better, I might have thought that feelings were directed inward.

    ¡°If you¡¯ll excuse me, I have somewhere I have to be,¡± she said, rising from the table without giving me the chance to answer.

    That went well, I thought to myself sarcastically.

    Cadence walked quickly across the cafeteria, deposited her tray on the conveyor belt, and then dashed for the exit. I was pretty sure that the ¡°somewhere¡± she had to be was anywhere I wasn¡¯t.

 Chapter Seventy: The One Where it Starts to Unravel

    That evening, my training with Kenly went as well as could be expected. Using my manipulation, I walked her through the same moves that we¡¯d been working on before Festivis. Her coordination improved with every repetition. Toward the end of our session, I released her mind and let her use me as a practice dummy. A couple of her hits landed hard enough that I thought my arms and torso might sport faint bruises in the morning; I couldn¡¯t have been prouder.

    True to her word, Penny wasn¡¯t actually of any use, but she was a great cheerleader.

    ¡°You did really well tonight,¡± I praised Kenly as we cleaned up the practice area.

    ¡°Thanks,¡± she said shyly. ¡°I¡¯ve been practicing in my room.¡± Her big brown eyes were shining with the same determination that had originally made me want to work with her. I hated to say what I said next, but I felt that she deserved the truth.

    ¡°Kenly, I am going to do everything I can to help you get ready for your placement exams,¡± I began.

    ¡°Oh, I know. I appreciate it so much,¡± she nodded earnestly.

    ¡°I know you do. But I feel like I should warn you that it might not be enough. A lot of the students that are chosen to pledge the Hunters have been training for years, and they have natural abilities that you don¡¯t.¡± I met her eyes, afraid of the disappointment that my words were likely to invoke.

    ¡°I know,¡± she replied in a clear voice. ¡°I know that it¡¯s a long shot. I¡¯m planning to take exams for the Crypto and Interrogation Divisions as well. I just really want to be a Hunter. I¡¯m from D.C., so when I¡¯m home on holidays I see the Hunters come into the city, and I¡¯ve always wanted to be part of a team like they are. I think that it would really make my mom proud. My father was a Hunter and was killed in a mission when I was eight. Mom always talks about what great things he did to stop the Coalition. I just want to do that, too.¡±

    I smiled. I knew her story already; I¡¯d done a very thorough background search on her family after I¡¯d convinced Mac to let me train her. Her father had been part of a special team, sent to arrest two known Coalition supporters who were actively working to start a rebellion. Unfortunately, the mission hadn¡¯t gone well, and most of the Operatives died.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure she¡¯ll be proud of you, no matter what,¡± I promised. ¡°Cryptos and Interrogators do very important work for the Agency, too. But I¡¯ll do everything I can to help you get ready.¡±

    I was so focused on Kenly that I didn¡¯t notice the baton until I stepped on it. One of my ankles twisted painfully as my other leg flew out from underneath me. Before I could come crashing to the ground at the awkward angle, Kenly grabbed my arm to steady me. Gravity still should have pulled me down, but Kenly also used her Telekinesis to halt my fall. I was now teetering precariously on the outside edge of my twisted foot, while the other foot was still thrust in front of me.

    ¡°OMIGOD, Tal!¡± Penny exclaimed running, over to grab my other arm so I could get both feet firmly back on the ground. ¡°Are you okay?¡±

    ¡°Um . . . yeah, of course,¡± I answered, wiggling my wrenched ankle to make sure it wasn¡¯t sprained. The joint popped, but otherwise seemed unharmed. ¡°Thank goodness you were here, Kenly,¡± I said turning to the younger girl. ¡°That was a really awesome use of your abilities. I think that you just might be ready for those Placements after all.¡±

    Kenly still clung to my arm, shock and disbelief creating creases in her forehead.

    ¡°I-I-I-I . . . it was nothing,¡± she replied, staring down at my feet like they might take flight again.

    ¡°That was really amazing, the way that you stopped Tal from breaking her ankle,¡± Penny said, placing her hand on Kenly¡¯s free arm to steady the slightly shaken girl.

    ¡°Yeah, right . . . thanks,¡± Kenly said, still looking confused by her rare display of adept talent.

    Penny and I walked Kenly back to her dorm before heading to the Crypto Bank, where our dinner from Gretchen was waiting.

    ¡°I think that you might really have a shot with Kenly after all,¡± Penny declared, digging into a plate of noodles smothered in cheese sauce.

    ¡°I hope so. She is so determined,¡± I replied, twirling long strands of spaghetti around the prongs of my fork.

    ¡°That little trick to keep your clumsy butt from falling was awesome,¡± Penny continued, through a mouthful of pasta.

    ¡°I know, right?! She seemed amazed that she had actually been able to pull it off,¡± I agreed.

    ¡°You must be an awesome teacher for her to have improved so much in a week,¡± Penny smiled.

    ¡°Thanks, Penny that means a lot.¡±

    The next few days passed with much the same routine. My stubborn nature¡ªand Penny¡¯s nagging voice in the back of my mind¡ªkept me from actively seeking out Donavon. I wasn¡¯t positive that I knew why he was ignoring me, but I had a pretty good guess: Someone must have told him about Erik.

    I wanted to go to him, but nothing I¡¯d say would make the situation better. Telling him that I needed more time to sort out my feelings was pointless, redundant, and untrue; I knew that I wanted to be with Erik. Now I just needed to pluck up the courage to tell Donavon. Since he was already avoiding me, the truth couldn¡¯t make the situation much worse¡ªI¡¯d already lost him.

    My sessions with Kenly weren¡¯t evolving like I¡¯d hoped. She was improving, but I¡¯d imagined that she would be much further along by now. The glimmer of hope that I¡¯d felt after using manipulation to help her feel the movements had petered out. Penny researched dual Talents and concluded that Mac was right; Kenly would never be strong in both areas.

    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    For his part, Mac kept telling me that I couldn¡¯t expect miracles, reminding me that I was attempting to teach Kenly skills in just a short amount of time that had taken me years to master. Again, my stubborn nature didn¡¯t allow me to concede to either point of view. The more that they both protested, the more determined I was to make her a Hunter.

    It had been nearly two weeks since Donavon had last spoken to me. I was running late, so naturally I literally ran into him when leaving my building.

    ¡°Hey,¡± I said awkwardly.

    ¡°Natalia,¡± he responded tersely.

    We stood there momentarily in uneasy silence.

    ¡°I¡¯m late,¡± I blurted out when I couldn¡¯t find another means of escape.

    ¡°Well, then, I guess you better go,¡± he answered evenly.

    Nodding, I started to walk away. I made it only several paces before I turned. He was still standing in the same place, watching me regretfully.

    ¡°Donavon,¡± I began.

    ¡°Tal, don¡¯t,¡± he interrupted.

    ¡°You don¡¯t even know what I¡¯m going to say,¡± I argued.

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter, Talia. I know that you spent Festivis with Erik. I know that he came back with you, and didn¡¯t leave until seven o¡¯clock the next morning. I know that you offered yourself to him after a week, but barely let me touch you in six years!¡± By the end of his tirade, Donavon was shouting loudly enough for the whole campus to hear.

    My mouth gaped stupidly. I had no idea what to say. At first, I was so stunned that I couldn¡¯t even process his words. Then as the meaning sunk in, my blood began to boil. I fisted my hands at my sides and tried to swallow the blinding rage. In the same breath, Donavon had basically called me a slut and a tease.

    ¡°Sucks to be lied to, doesn¡¯t it?¡± I snapped, rooted in place. If I moved, my feet would propel me at him, and I¡¯d likely punch the horrified expression right off of his face.

    Donavon paled and looked around nervously. ¡°That¡¯s different and you know it,¡± he hissed.

    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s worse! I don¡¯t owe you anything, Donavon. Isn¡¯t that what you said? You didn¡¯t want me to feel like I owed you? Or was that a lie, too? Because I think that we both know the real reason that you didn¡¯t tell me¡ªyou¡¯re too scared of your father!¡± I screamed.

    Donavon closed the distance between us, and I thought for a brief moment that he was going to strike me, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of flinching. I steeled myself for the blow, but it never came. Donavon clamped one hand over my mouth and backed me against the wall of the dorm. My eyes popped wide with disbelief; I¡¯d have been less shocked had he actually hit me.

    ¡°You don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about,¡± he growled. His irises went black, his eye sockets elongated, and he sounded more animal than human.

    My own primal urges took over, and I sank my teeth into his fleshy palm. My incisors sliced through the skin and his blood trickled into my mouth. Disgusted, I jerked away and gagged, spitting red liquid on the perfectly manicured grass. The coppery scent made my stomach roll, and I bent over and dry heaved painfully. When I was certain that nothing more would come out, I scrubbed my tongue with my shirt sleeve to rid my mouth of the taste.

    Donavon stared at me, shocked and scared as bloody rivers weaved down his forearm to meet at his elbow. Two puncture wounds showed on the heel of his hand. He opened and closed his mouth several times in a good imitation of a trout fish. Then without another word, he turned and stalked off, leaving me confused and terrified in his wake.

    What just happened? Had I really bitten him? I¡¯d felt like a cornered dog when he¡¯d put his hand over my mouth to silence my spiteful words, but the faint smears of blood on my sleeve shamed me. I¡¯d definitely overreacted. Donavon would never physically hurt me. How could I have bitten him?

    The part of me that was still fuming over his accusations wanted to run after him, demand that he apologize. But he really didn¡¯t have anything to be sorry for; everything he¡¯d said was true. I had done all those things, and I was wrong when I said that I didn¡¯t owe him anything. At the very least, I¡¯d owed him the truth about Erik.

    ***

    After the shortest trip to Medical on record, I rushed to the Crypto Bank. I needed to vent my frustration and embarrassment over the encounter with Donavon to Penny before I exploded. I knew that I was in store for a big ¡°I told you so,¡± but I really didn¡¯t care. Honestly, I deserved it. She¡¯d been right about him and about us. Donavon and I were no good together; our story was a doomed broken record, repeating the same painful chorus over and over again: lies, secrets, lies, secrets.

    When I made it to the glass doors, the absence of bright red-orange was immediately apparent.

    ¡°Where¡¯s Penny?¡± I demanded as soon as the doors opened.

    ¡°She was called away,¡± Gemma responded distractedly, removing her headphones. ¡°No worries though. I have you all set up. This is Andel,¡± she added, pointing to the bespectacled boy sitting next to her.

    ¡°Hi.¡± I waved dismissively in his direction.

    ¡°Natalia.¡± He smiled nervously and replaced his headphones, returning to his computers.

    Reluctantly, I took my seat and began my daily grind. My brain warred between thoughts of Donavon and the task at hand.

    I¡¯d barely made it through three files when the shrill sound of an alarm broke my concentration. Yanking my headphones off, I watched as Gemma hit a red button on her console.

    ¡°Operative Reins,¡± she answered. She paused while the person on the other end of the line spoke. ¡°Right away, Captain Anderson.¡± Pause. ¡°I see the file now, sir.¡± Pause. ¡°Affirmative, sir.¡± Pause. ¡°Understood.¡± She hit the red button again.

    ¡°What just happened?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Emergency intelligence that needs verification,¡± she answered in an off-handed manner.

    ¡°What does that mean?¡± I¡¯d been sitting in this room for weeks, and had never seen something like this happen.

    ¡°A Crypto unit at Headquarters came across information regarding the Coalition President that we need to act on ASAP,¡± Gemma explained, her fingers a blur as they flew over her keyboard.

    ¡°Um, okay.¡± I was confused. ¡°I still don¡¯t understand.¡±

    ¡°Protocol dictates that high priority intel needs independent verification to ensure that it¡¯s legit,¡± she said patiently, her eyes never leaving her screen.

    ¡°What constitutes high priority intel?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Anything involving significant members of the Coalition and their movements.¡±

    ¡°Like what?¡± I pressed. Gemma hesitated. ¡°Like what?¡± I repeated. She didn¡¯t answer. ¡°Like when I was sent to Nevada?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, like that,¡± she finally answered.

    ¡°When the intelligence came in that Crane was in Nevada, what would have been the protocol?¡± I asked in a low voice. I was already on edge from my fight with Donavon, and it was hard to maintain control.

    ¡°Given the nature of the information, the intel would¡¯ve been sent to a second Crypto unit to be verified,¡± she answered.

    ¡°Why?¡± I asked, struggling to sound calm.

    ¡°To make sure that the Operative receiving the information wasn¡¯t compromised¡ªthat he or she isn¡¯t a spy. Plus then there¡¯s always the possibility that whoever intercepted the intel decoded it incorrectly.¡±

    ¡°Does that happen a lot? The decoding incorrectly thing, I mean?¡± I already knew that we didn¡¯t uncover spies on a daily basis.

    ¡°On occasion,¡± Gemma shrugged. ¡°Usually everything checks out and it¡¯s not a big deal, but every so often the verification team finds a mistake.¡±

    I sat back in my chair, tapping my fingers thoughtfully on the desk. This was important, very important. Mac said that all of the Operatives on Penny¡¯s team had been investigated, but what about the verification team? Mac was thorough¡ªno stone unturned and all that. Yet, I had a nagging, uneasy feeling about the whole situation. Could it really be that simple? Had one of the teams made a mistake? One team, I¡¯d buy¡ªbut both teams seemed unlikely. I needed to speak with Mac.

 Chapter Seventy-One: The One with the Misguided Brains

    Saying a hasty goodbye to Gemma and Andel, I set off for Mac¡¯s office, praying that he was there. Thankfully he was, and his secretary waved me back immediately.

    ¡°Who received the intel about Las Vegas?¡± I asked, barely through his door.

    Mac looked up, surprised, but recovered quickly. ¡°Penelope¡¯s team at Headquarters,¡± he answered. ¡°You know that.¡±

    ¡°Who verified the data?¡± I continued.

    ¡°A Crypto unit here at School. Why?¡± Mac seemed impervious to my brash manner.

    ¡°I want to speak with the person who originally found the intel.¡±

    Mac gave me an exaggerated sigh and rubbed his temples, like I was giving him a headache. ¡°Cal Simmons and his team have been questioned extensively. I am confident that they are not spies.¡±

    ¡°Not by me,¡± I pointed out.

    ¡°Natalia, the intel that we received regarding Crane¡¯s presence in Las Vegas was real,¡± he said it slowly as if I were stupid or hard of hearing. ¡°I explained this all to you already. I have you going through personnel files to find someone with the skills to infiltrate our system because we are certain that the intel was not planted. I do believe that we have a spy. I believe that someone gained access to your mission file and tipped off Crane.¡±

    ¡°Mac, please,¡± I insisted. ¡°You said that you wanted results. You said that I should be questioning everyone who could possibly have accessed the information regarding my mission. So, please, let me talk to Cal Simmons.¡± I thought about willing Mac to let me go, but decided against it at the last minute. Mac really hated it when I did that.

    ¡°What exactly do you hope to learn from Mr. Simmons and his team?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I replied, frustrated. Was I hoping that they¡¯d made a mistake? Even if they had, did it matter?

    ¡°Going to speak with Operative Simmons is a waste of your time, and time is something that we are running out of. His entire team has been vetted by me.¡± Mac didn¡¯t raise his voice, but the way he clipped each word put my teeth on edge.

    ¡°You said that the investigation was cursory, at best,¡± I nearly shouted, losing my temper. ¡°You said that it was best not to alarm people. I can question people more comprehensively, and they won¡¯t even know!¡± The sense of urgency that I¡¯d been feeling ever since Gemma took that call grew with each passing moment. I took a deep breath. ¡°Mac, I¡¯m asking you to trust me. I know that I need to talk to Cal Simmons. I can feel it. Please,¡± I urged, careful to keep the nasally whine to a minimum.

    Mac studied me for several long seconds. ¡°I¡¯ll arrange it. Be ready to go around dinnertime.¡±

    I gave him a curt nod and turned to leave.

    ¡°Do you want to talk to Operative Eisenhower as well?¡± Mac called after me.

    ¡°Huh?¡±

    ¡°Jennifer Eisenhower was also in the room when Simmons came across the information.¡±

    I turned slowly back around. ¡°Anyone else?¡± I asked tersely.

    ¡°If you¡¯d been paying more attention in our first status meeting, you would know,¡± he gave me a pointed look. Admittedly, I hadn¡¯t been paying much attention in that meeting; I¡¯d been busy thinking ill thoughts towards Donavon.

    ¡°Penelope was also there, of course,¡± he continued.

    I nodded. I already knew that¡ªit was the only reason Penny had been privy to the specifics of my mission.

    ¡°While you are at it, you might as well speak with the verification team¡ªGrace Howard and Rider Trindel. They worked with Latimore, Simmons, and Eisenhower to compile the intel packet that you were given.¡±

    ¡°Right, of course,¡± I stammered. I couldn¡¯t fathom why Mac didn¡¯t have me question all these people before. Sure, some other mind reader had probably questioned them, but I was an Elite-level Talent; I¡¯d know if they were lying.

    ¡°You have two days, Natalia. I firmly believe that this is a waste of time, and I will not have you chasing theories on a whim. I want results, and I want them now.¡±

    If I didn¡¯t know better, I¡¯d have thought that he was threatening me. Did he think that I didn¡¯t want results? Did he think that I didn¡¯t want to catch this spy, a hundred times more than he did? He wasn¡¯t the one who¡¯d been strapped to a bed. He wasn¡¯t the one who nearly bled to death. He wasn¡¯t the one who was injected with a cocktail of chemicals that our entire Medical staff couldn¡¯t seem to cure. I wanted to scream at him, make him understand how badly I wanted to find the person responsible for all of those things.

    Instead, I held my tongue and tightly replied, ¡°I understand.¡±

    ¡°Howard and Trindel work at the Crypto Bank here. I will have my secretary locate them for you.¡±

    ¡°Thank you,¡± I replied, stiffly. I vaguely recognized their names from my months of sifting through files, but I didn¡¯t recall either of them raising red flags. ¡°Can I get access to the initial interrogation reports and their classified files?¡± I wanted to review the reports the initial interrogator made after he¡¯d questioned them. I also wanted a look at any additional information the Agency had that might have been termed classified. I wasn¡¯t sure what all was considered classified, but I figured it couldn¡¯t hurt to see it.

    ¡°I will have all of that information sent to your communicator,¡± he agreed.

    ¡°Thanks, Mac.¡± I smiled.

    ¡°I do trust your instincts, Natalia,¡± Mac said, his voice softening. ¡°I just do not want to waste time on theories that have already been pursued. That being said, report any useful findings to me immediately. Call my communicator the minute you find something.¡±

    ¡°I will,¡± I readily agreed. He might not be happy about my request, but at least he trusted me enough to let me pursue it.

    I¡¯d already missed Annalise¡¯s class and lunch, so I decided to just skip the rest of my classes, too. I wanted to question Grace and Rider as soon as Mac¡¯s secretary located them before I left for Headquarters.

    I hurried back to my room, packed a bag, and waited impatiently for the files that Mac promised me. Cal Simmons and Jennifer Eisenhower were at Elite Headquarters, which was only a short flight away, but I figured I would be spending the night if I left around dinnertime. I had no idea how long the interrogation sessions would take; but if Ernest¡¯s was any indication, it would be hours.

    Kenly was still in class, so I left her a message with a detailed workout plan for the evening. I felt marginally bad about abandoning my prot¨¦g¨¦, but this was way more important. Next, I called Erik; another advantage of the trip to Headquarters would be seeing him again. He didn¡¯t answer, so I left him a comm saying that I would be there tonight and asking if he knew Cal or Jennifer. Finally, I called Penny and told her that I would be away for a day or so and that I¡¯d explain when I saw her next.

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    By the time I finished leaving all of my messages, I had two comms from Mac¡¯s secretary. She¡¯d located Grace and Rider; they were both working the two-to-two shift at the School¡¯s Crypto Bank. I checked the time on my communicator: 2:40, perfect timing.

    Grace and Rider proved very easy to find; they were working together in one of the smaller rooms on the main level of the Crypto Bank. I glanced through the glass panel to the right of the door before knocking, and neither Operative was paying much attention to their monitors. All I could see was a pale, bony hand buried in a frizzy mass of blonde hair as the owner of the head and the owner of the hand tried to devour each other¡¯s face while still sitting in their respective computer chairs.

    Stifling my laughter, I raised my hand to knock on the metal door. I banged three times as loudly as I could. The squeak of plastic on plastic assaulted my ears when Grace and Rider jerked their chairs apart. The soft tapping of Grace¡¯s rubber-soled shoes on the marble sounded through the closed door.

    Grace poked her blonde head through. She was several inches taller than me, and her dark eyes narrowed in an impatient glare at my unwelcome intrusion.

    ¡°Can I help you?¡± she asked, sounding a little flustered.

    Oh, my God, get a room, I thought, irritated.

    ¡°Actually, you can. Are you Grace Howard?¡±

    ¡°I am,¡± she replied, cautiously.

    ¡°And your make-out buddy is Rider Trindel?¡± I hadn¡¯t intended to call her out on what I¡¯d witnessed, but her flippant attitude irritated me.

    ¡°Um, yeah.¡± She paled further.

    ¡°I¡¯m Talia Lyons.¡± I saw a spark of recognition cross her expression. ¡°I need to ask you a few questions about the night you verified some intel from Elite Headquarters.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll have to be more specific. We verify intel all the time,¡± Grace replied glibly.

    ¡°The intel regarding Ian Crane being in Las Vegas, Nevada, about ten months ago.¡± Grace swallowed thickly, and I knew that she remembered the mission I was talking about.

    ¡°We already gave full reports,¡± she snapped, defensively.

    I locked her in a penetrating stare. Her right eye twitched nervously, and I invaded her consciousness.

    ¡°You did give reports,¡± I started, slowly. ¡°But not to me. You want to sit down for me now, and you want to tell me every excruciating detail about the intel that you verified about Ian Crane in Las Vegas,¡± I coaxed.

    ¡°Of course,¡± she said, her features going slack under my control.

    Grace opened the door wider, gesturing me inside. The room was much smaller than the one that I used with Penny. There were only two large computer screens hanging on the wall opposite the door with the now-all-too-familiar scrolling lines of gibberish. Two high-backed, black computer chairs sat facing the monitors. The owner of the white hand¡ªRider, I assumed¡ªwas craning to look at me as I entered.

    ¡°Rider Trindel?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Yes,¡± he said in a small voice.

    I shifted my concentration to him.

    ¡°My name is Talia Lyons. You know who I am, right?¡± Rider nodded, jerkily.

    ¡°Good. I need you to tell me about the intel you verified regarding my assignment in Las Vegas ten months ago. Do you remember it?¡± I didn¡¯t have the patience to establish a connection with each Brain so that I could read their thoughts. Actively controlling them would make me tired, but I didn¡¯t care just then.

    Rider nodded again.

    ¡°I remember,¡± he said slowly.

    ¡°Good. Grace, why don¡¯t you start? Walk me through everything from the beginning.¡± I used the most soothing, patient voice that I could manage.

    Grace launched into her version of the events, speaking so quickly that I could barely keep up. She explained that she and Rider were working the eleven-to-eleven shift in the main Crypto room that night, and Captain Anderson had called not long after they¡¯d started. He¡¯d told her that Cal Simmons¡¯ unit received intel that needed verification. He sent over the request, and Grace and Rider decrypted the data and analyzed the results; they determined that the intel consisted of partial plans for Coalition President Ian Crane¡¯s stay in Las Vegas, Nevada. Grace had then called Headquarters and reported the findings.

    The next day, both Grace and Rider were ordered to abandon their normal assignments and focus solely on combing all electronic communications for information regarding Ian Crane and Las Vegas. The duo spent the entire week gathering intel on both subjects. They also continued to verify the data found by Cal¡¯s team.

    While I was fairly confident that Grace was telling me the truth since I was compelling her to do so, I also searched her mind for any traces of fabrication. I could tell that there was something she was holding back, but decided not to dig too deeply just yet; I wanted to see inside Rider¡¯s head first.

    Rider¡¯s version of events matched Grace¡¯s to the tee. Still, I could feel that he also wasn¡¯t telling me something. His guilt was stronger than hers, so I dug into his mind first.

    ¡°Rider, do you know Ian Crane?¡± I asked bluntly.

    ¡°No,¡± he stammered. ¡°I¡¯ve never met him. I just know about him.¡± Rider¡¯s blue eyes were wide and innocent looking. I scoured his brain for any signs that he¡¯d met Ian Crane. Finally, seeing nothing, I continued with my questions.

    ¡°Are you a spy for the Coalition?¡± I demanded. I didn¡¯t see a point in beating around the bush. Grace gasped behind me.

    ¡°What?!¡± Rider exclaimed, his eyes lighting up with shock. ¡°Of course not!¡± His tone was indignant, but the images in his mind were scared.

    Rider imagined himself being dragged by two large, faceless men to stand before a judge while she declared him a traitor. Then his mind jumped to scenes of himself strapped to a gurney while an executioner in a black hood injected a dark liquid into his arm.

    I sighed. I could take his morbid images as a sign of guilt, but I had a feeling that he just had an overactive imagination. ¡°Rider, what aren¡¯t you telling me?¡±

    He hesitated. I was tempted to regain control of his mind and force him to answer me, but images of Ernest in his hospital bed clouded my vision. I needed to be careful; I couldn¡¯t handle it if I turned another innocent person into a vegetable. Gently, I probed Rider¡¯s brain. At last I saw what he was hiding take shape in his mind.

    ¡°What about the encryption seemed off?¡± I demanded before he could decide whether or not to tell me the truth. My throat felt tight; I knew that this was going to lead me somewhere.

    Grace gave a strangled little yelp behind me, but I didn¡¯t break my focus on Rider.

    ¡°Tell me, Rider,¡± I ordered. I took control of his mind, not caring about the consequences anymore.

    Rider was weak-willed, thank God, and he relented quickly.

    ¡°The encryption was kinda low-level for that type of information,¡± he answered.

    ¡°What do you mean low-level?¡± I pressed, narrowing my eyes in concentration.

    ¡°Well, I¡¯m a pretty strong Higher Reasoning Talent.¡± His blue eyes shifted over my shoulder to where Grace sat. ¡°I mean, I am an Elite, so I can basically crack any code.¡±

    ¡°I know what it means to be an Elite,¡± I snapped. I could feel the adrenaline starting to pump in my veins, urging me into some kind of action.

    ¡°Well, Grace isn¡¯t,¡± he said softly. ¡°She¡¯s actually an Extremely Low-Level Talent.¡± He gave her a miserable, apologetic smile, like he couldn¡¯t believe what he was saying. Suddenly, I got it. The whole scenario flooded to the front of his consciousness.

    Rider helped Grace cheat on her Placement Exams, so that she¡¯d be assigned to the Cryptos and they could be together¡ªthey were in love. They¡¯d requested to work together, and volunteered for less-desirable assignments so that Rider could manage most of the workload. All they wanted was to be together, and they¡¯d known that Grace would have been assigned to a remedial position if she ranked poorly on her Placement Exams. Both Grace and Rider knew that the encryption wasn¡¯t very advanced because Grace had easily decoded the transmission.

    Earlier, I¡¯d misread Rider¡¯s images of being branded a traitor; he was feeling guilty. He knew that if anyone ever found out he¡¯d helped Grace cheat, there would be repercussions. Rider felt horrible because he¡¯d chosen to keep their secret instead of admitting that there was something amiss with the encryption. The guilt was eating him up inside; he thought if they had said something then I might not have been sent to Nevada, and I might not have been hurt. He¡¯d never imagined that his omission would have such grave consequences.

    I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth. The desire to lash out at both of them was so strong that I wasn¡¯t sure how much longer I could suppress it. I wanted to scream obscenities, let them know just how much their love affair had cost me. Did they really think that keeping their secret was worth risking my life?

    Taking control, I tried to swallow my anger. I needed to stay focused right now. Screaming at them wasn¡¯t going to help. I didn¡¯t know what the punishment for cheating on your placement exams was; but if I had to guess, it was probably a stiff reprimand and reassignment to a more fitting division. Neither penalty was sufficient in my opinion.

    When I looked from Grace to Rider, I saw unbridled fear. The terror emanating from them was palpable. While the prospect of being separated worried them, it was the fear over the punishment that terrified them. Although I was confident that they wouldn¡¯t be declared traitors to the government and executed, I had to wonder if maybe the consequences were more severe than reassignment.

    ¡°I promise I won¡¯t tell.¡± The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. Was that really a promise that I was prepared to make? Their lie had cost me my future with the Hunters and nearly cost me my life. If I hadn¡¯t gone to Nevada, I wouldn¡¯t have been injected and I wouldn¡¯t be plagued by seizures now; I didn¡¯t want something like that to happen to someone else.

    When I saw the grateful looks that they gave me¡ªand the lovey-dovey eyes they made at one another, the fear hovering right below the surface¡ªI knew that I couldn¡¯t expose their secret. I would figure out a way to ensure that they weren¡¯t assigned any more high-profile cases, but I wouldn¡¯t tell. Briefly, I considered willing them to forget my interrogation, but I decided against it; I wanted them to remember how scared they were, how close they¡¯d come to being discovered. I wanted them to know better next time.

 Chapter Seventy-Two: The One with the Silent Hover Ride

    Heading back to my room, I pondered the level of encryption. I couldn¡¯t explain how I knew that it mattered, yet I was certain that it did.

    I¡¯d just finished gathering my belongings to leave for the hover hangar when I heard a knock on my door. I opened my mind¡ªPenny.

    ¡°Hey,¡± I called brightly. ¡°You¡¯re just in time to walk me to the hangar.¡±

    ¡°I got your message. Where are you going?¡± she asked curiously.

    ¡°Headquarters,¡± I answered. ¡°I¡¯m going to interview the other two people who were working the night that the intel came in about Crane.¡±

    Penny¡¯s face fell. ¡°Why? Haven¡¯t they already been interviewed? Submitted full reports?¡± She seemed a little jittery.

    ¡°Well, yeah, but not by me. I want to dig around a little bit, see what I can find.¡± I smiled at her.

    Penny frowned.

    ¡°Tal, look. I know that you¡¯re really trying to figure this out, but the Director brought me here to go through the personnel files and look for a hack in the network because all of the intel checked out. It was legit. Ian Crane was in Nevada just like we thought he¡¯d be. Nothing at all was unusual about the intel.¡±

    Her voice was firm, and I suddenly felt silly for getting so excited about the low-level encryption. Her features softened when she saw the dejected look on my face.

    ¡°Tal, you know that I want to find this person just as much as you do. I want them to pay for what happened to you, but I just don¡¯t really think that this is productive.¡± Her green eyes shone with unshed tears.

    I was so touched by her concern that I almost told her that she was right, that I wouldn¡¯t go chasing wild theories. But I couldn¡¯t; I knew that the encryption was important. I felt it with every fiber of my being. I just needed to connect the dots.

    My brain was murky, but I had this feeling that something important hid beneath the surface. Something good? Something bad? I didn¡¯t know. I just knew there was something.

    ¡°I really value your opinion, but I know that this is going to lead somewhere. I can feel it.¡± A thought struck me. ¡°Penny¡­you didn¡¯t tell Harris about my mission, did you?¡±

    Penny fixed me with a steady gaze, full of hurt that I would even ask. Shame clouded my brain.

    ¡°I would never have done that!¡± Penny exclaimed, sounding truly wounded by my inquiry.

    ¡°No, of course, you didn¡¯t. I just wanted to cover all my bases,¡± I replied lamely before letting the subject drop. I was relieved that she hadn¡¯t. Harris had been a good friend to Donavon and Erik for years, and I hated the thought of having to question him.

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you at least let me fly you out there?¡± Penny asked hopefully.

    ¡°Thanks, but Mac already arranged someone.¡±

    When we got to the hangar, I instantly regretted not taking her up on the offer. A small two-seater hover car was pulled out of one of the hangar bays, and a tan, broad-shouldered guy with shaggy blond hair stood next to the opened driver¡¯s side. He was dressed casually in dark jeans and a white t-shirt tossing the keys lazily in the air. Crap. Donavon.

    ¡°Tal,¡± he greeted me coolly, but gave Penny a dazzling smile. I wanted to kick him.

    ¡°Donavon,¡± I matched his icy tone.

    Penny gave me a quick hug, which I returned without taking my eyes off of Donavon¡¯s. ¡°Call me if you need anything,¡± she whispered.

    ¡°Thanks,¡± I whispered back.

    Penny moved away from the plane, but didn¡¯t leave. She watched as I slowly walked over to my side of the vehicle and hoisted my bag, then myself, into the passenger seat. I gave her a small wave while Donavon made a great show of clamoring noisily into the driver¡¯s seat. Once he was settled, I risked stealing a sidelong look at his face. His jaw was clenched, the muscles in the back moving almost imperceptibly as he ground his teeth together. A white, gauze bandage was wrapped around his right hand. As soon as I noticed it, the earlier shame and humiliation returned. I had bitten him. What was wrong with me?

    He turned the key in the ignition with way more force than was necessary. The engine gave a loud, screeching whine in protest of the display of strength. He jammed his right foot down so hard that the vehicle shot forward, sending me flying back against my seat. I grumbled audibly. Donavon didn¡¯t acknowledge my presence, let alone say he was sorry. This was going to be a very long ride.

    ***

    No matter how angry Donavon seemed, I knew that his hurt feelings were the root of his animosity. He¡¯d thought that we were working out our issue, then Erik just showed up. He blamed Erik for telling me about the blood transfusion, but I wanted him to know that it wasn¡¯t Erik¡¯s fault; Donavon had no one to blame but himself. And it wasn¡¯t just the transfusion¡ªhe¡¯d lied about so many things that I didn¡¯t know how he could expect me to forgive him.

    I busied myself reviewing the old interview reports for Grace, Rider, Jennifer, Cal, and even Penny. Grace¡¯s and Rider¡¯s reports were exactly as I¡¯d expected. They were both interrogated by a Mid-level Telepath named Sandi Yardly, and the reports included a narrative almost identical to the one that both Cryptos had given me. Sandi concluded that both were telling the truth, but noted that low levels of deception were present in each interviewee. She¡¯d indicated that their dishonesty was a result of the relationship of a ¡°sexual nature¡± between the two. She made it sound so clinical.

    I wondered if the official reports on my destruction of Donavon¡¯s cabin alleged that my actions were the result of a relationship of a ¡°sexual nature¡± between us. I shuddered; I really hoped not¡ªhow humiliating to have that on record.

    Moving on, I saw that Cal, Jennifer, and Penny¡¯s reports were consistent with what I already knew. Penny had helped me prepare for the mission, so I was pretty well acquainted with what had transpired on their end that week. Mac and Captain Alvarez had personally interviewed all three while Sandi watched through the two-way mirror. She concluded that none of the three was hiding ¡°anything remarkable.¡± She believed that each gave the best version of events ¡°as they knew it to be true¡±¡ªwhatever that meant.

    None of the Cryptos had commented on the encryption being unsophisticated. I wasn¡¯t surprised to learn that; if they¡¯d said something, it would¡¯ve been investigated. I was pretty sure that the only reason Rider admitted it was because the person who¡¯d been harmed by his omission asked him directly. Also, I hadn¡¯t simply read his mind like Sandi; I¡¯d been controlling it, digging through his memories. He really hadn¡¯t had a choice.

    Mac annotated Penny¡¯s evaluation to explain that ¡°Operative Latimore¡¯s feelings of dishonesty are related to the unauthorized assistance that she provided for Hunters¡¯ Pledge, Natalia Lyons.¡± Oopsy. Now if I was ever cured, not only would I have to answer to the Placement Committee for totally screwing up my solo mission, but also for accepting outside help¡ªPledges were supposed to plan and research their solo assignments alone.

    ¡°Everyone cheats. The committee won¡¯t deny your appointment just because you had help on your solo assignment.¡±

    Donavon¡¯s voice startled me so much that I jumped slightly in my seat. I¡¯d connected my communicator to the small computer in the passenger-side dash since the screen was larger. Apparently, Donavon was reading them, too.

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    ¡°I wasn¡¯t worried about that,¡± I shot back, haughtily. Obviously I¡¯d just been contemplating that very notion, but I hated the way that Donavon sounded all-knowing.

    ¡°Whatever, Tal.¡±

    The tension in the cramped space increased exponentially. This ride needed to end now.

    Thankfully, we were almost to Headquarters. When we did finally touch down, fifteen minutes later, I grabbed my bag and jumped out of the vehicle as quickly as I could mentally pop the door lock.

    Captain Alvarez was waiting for us outside the hangar.

    ¡°Lyons, McDonough, how are you?¡± he asked as Donavon exited the car, slowly and much more gracefully than I had.

    ¡°Good, thank you, sir,¡± I responded with a tight smile.

    ¡°Glad to be back on my old stomping grounds, sir,¡± Donavon answered cheerfully. Apparently his surly mood was reserved exclusively for me.

    ¡°Good. I have rooms in the guest tower for both of you. Natalia, it¡¯s my understanding that you want to speak with two Crypto Operatives?¡±

    ¡°Yes sir, as soon as possible,¡± I replied quickly.

    ¡°Director McDonough called ahead and asked me to track them down. They¡¯re both waiting for you in an interrogation room in the main administrative building.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡± I smiled.

    ¡°Follow me,¡± he said before turning to Donavon. ¡°McDonough, I trust I¡¯ll see you again before you head back to school?¡±

    ¡°Of course, sir.¡± Donavon inclined his head slightly in a show of respect.

    ¡°Find me whenever you¡¯re done with this fishing expedition,¡± Donavon sent me in a tone that conveyed anything but respect.

    ¡°Whatever,¡± I sent back.

    Following Captain Alvarez across the lush Headquarters grounds, I inhaled the earthy scent of the dirt and trees and the sweet smell of the tiny flowers that grew along the stone pathways. A sense of longing filled me; I really missed being here.

    The Captain led me into a small building, and then down a short hallway to the right. He held the door to the main room open to let me pass through. Cal and Jennifer were seated in separate interrogations rooms. Both were visible through the two-way mirror in the larger exterior room, but a thick, soundproof wall divided the interior rooms. I watched both Brains through the glass for several long minutes.

    Cal was in the room to the left. He sat hunched over, his shaved head resting in large hands. I was surprised to find that I didn¡¯t recognize his coffee-colored face and dark brown eyes when he finally withdrew his head from his palms. I just assumed that I would¡¯ve seen him with Penny at some point. While his skin was smooth, untouched by age, I knew from his file that he was thirty-five. He was well built, like a Hunter, and tall; even sitting down, I could tell that he was at least Donavon¡¯s height.

    As I studied his body language, his eyes darted nervously around the room. His mind buzzed steadily, indicating a great deal of brain activity, which was actually typical of most Brains that I encountered. Their minds were always churning, constantly working, analyzing every detail of a given situation.

    When I was done analyzing Cal, I turned my attention to Jennifer. She was younger than Cal¡ªtwenty-eight according to her file. Stringy black hair hung limply around an extremely pale face with deep-set, dark eyes, and she hugged her bony arms around a boyishly skinny frame. I¡¯d seen her several times with Penny when I was a Pledge, but couldn¡¯t recall having ever exchanged more than pleasantries with the girl.

    Since Cal was the one who¡¯d actually found the data originally, I decided to start with him.

    Captain Alvarez took a seat in one of the comfortable chairs on the exterior side of the mirror as I made my way into the room on the left.

    ¡°Cal Simmons?¡± I asked when I entered.

    ¡°Yes ma¡¯am,¡± he replied in a deep southern drawl.

    ¡°I¡¯m Talia¡ª,¡± I started to say, but he cut me off.

    ¡°I know who you are.¡±

    ¡°Then you probably know why I¡¯m here?¡± I continued.

    ¡°You want to know about the Nevada Crane intel?¡± he guessed. He didn¡¯t look nervous, but vibrations of uneasy energy tickled my skin.

    ¡°I do.¡±

    The exchange was enough for me to latch on to his brain patterns. I knew that Sandi had already gone the telepathic route, but I was a much stronger Talent, and I didn¡¯t want to compel the answers out of him unless I was sure that it was necessary. Besides not wanting to irreparably damage his mind, I hadn¡¯t been exercising my mental muscles since being away from the Hunters and had yet to recover the energy that I¡¯d expended questioning Grace and Rider.

    ¡°Was there anything strange about the intel?¡± I asked.

    When Sandi questioned Rider, he hadn¡¯t mentioned the encryption, so Mac hadn¡¯t known to ask Cal and his team about it. Whether it was the mounting guilt that the lovesick Brains now felt, or because I really was that much better than Sandi, I couldn¡¯t say. Since I knew what questions to ask, I felt that there was no reason to play coy.

    ¡°Strange?¡± he shifted his eyes to the floor. He knew exactly what I was talking about.

    ¡°The data¡ªdid you think that the encryption was too simple, considering it was about where Ian Crane would be staying?¡± I demanded.

    Yes, flashed through his mind, but he hesitated before saying, ¡°Not really.¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t think that the code was ridiculously easy to crack?¡± I pressed, placing my palms firmly on the edge of the small table.

    Yes! His mind screamed so loudly that I was certain I couldn¡¯t be the only one who heard it.

    ¡°It was crude encryption,¡± he answered, tentatively.

    ¡°Does data involving Ian Crane¡¯s whereabouts normally have crude encryption?¡± I fired back.

    Anger and annoyance were starting to control me. Why was everybody lying about the encryption? Why was this so important? Why couldn¡¯t anyone just admit that there¡¯d been something strange going on? Why did none of these imbeciles realize how much damage could be caused by omitting a detail like that?

    ¡°No, not normally,¡± Cal admitted.

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you say anything at the time? Didn¡¯t you think that it was odd enough to warrant saying something?¡± I hissed through clenched teeth. I was now leaning over the desk, my face inches from Cal¡¯s ear. His face was still turned down, looking at some non-existent spot on the table.

    ¡°The information was important. Teams had been searching for this type of intel, praying to intercept communications about Ian Crane¡¯s whereabouts. And I did. I found out where he was going to be; I cracked the codes that led to us finding Crane in Nevada.¡± He met my eyes for the first time, urging me to understand.

    I did. He was proud of what he¡¯d done. He felt triumphant that he¡¯d been the one to intercept such an important communication. He hadn¡¯t been able to contain his delight when he called in the find. He¡¯d thought that he would be promoted. I understood completely. He¡¯d risked the safety of another Operative for his own advancement; he¡¯d risked my safety for his own advancement. I snapped.

    ¡°You cracked the codes that led me to Nevada! You cracked the codes that led me into a trap!¡± I screamed, not caring that I was going completely off the rails with Captain Alvarez watching from the other side of the mirror.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know,¡± he stammered. ¡°I didn¡¯t think...I didn¡¯t know. I¡¯m sorry.¡± Tears welled up in his dark eyes.

    ¡°Obviously you didn¡¯t think!¡± I shrieked, unable to control my emotions.

    I wanted to hurt him, wanted to reach across the inches that separated us and strangle him. Instead, I bore into his mind. Digging out the memories from that week, I searched for anything that would connect him to the Coalition. I didn¡¯t find even a scrap of evidence supporting the notion that he was either in league with the Coalition directly, or a supporter of Crane¡¯s objectives. I dug deeper. I knew it was risky. I didn¡¯t care.

    Cal¡¯s mind told the tale of a small boy who¡¯d come to McDonough School when he was five. He¡¯d proudly left his home in Florence, South Carolina, on Collection Day when government officials collect all of the children who tested positive for Talents and take them to the School.

    Like me, Cal spent his whole childhood training to become a Hunter. He¡¯d, of course, known that he was a Higher Reasoning Talent since his testing results, but he¡¯d never thought that meant he couldn¡¯t become a Hunter.

    After his junior year in school, he¡¯d taken the examinations to become a Hunter. He hadn¡¯t even bothered to take the Crypto test. His arrogance at choosing only the Hunters made me squirm; I¡¯d also put all my eggs in the proverbial Hunters¡¯ basket.

    Surprisingly, he¡¯d been chosen to Pledge. However, Cal¡¯s team captain hadn¡¯t reported favorably on his performances during the several missions he¡¯d been a part of. He wasn¡¯t recommended for permanent appointment to the Hunters. Cal never even got to go on his solo mission; he¡¯d been dropped as a Pledge weeks before then.

    Luckily for Cal, he was an Elite-level Higher Reasoning Talent. When Cal was dropped from the Hunters¡¯ Pledge class, the head of the Crypto unit offered for him to complete his Pledge year with them. He¡¯d accepted, and even managed high marks from his mentor. Cal received an official appointment to the Crypto Division after graduation and eagerly accepted it. Still, his failure with the Hunters nagged at him; he was desperate to prove himself. So desperate, in fact, that he was willing to overlook a glaring, almost fatal inconsistency in the data.

    Disgusted, I drew back out of his mind. I felt dirty after witnessing such raw ambition. He was pathetic. Suddenly, I found it difficult to be in the same room with him. I stared straight into his slightly dazed, wholly terrified eyes. I might not have robbed him of memories, didn¡¯t thoroughly demolish his subconscious the way I¡¯d unintentionally destroyed Ernest¡¯s, but I knew that my interrogation hadn¡¯t been painless. I hadn¡¯t meant for it to be.

    I could gently sift through a person¡¯s mind without them knowing that I was there. Digging deeper without their knowledge was a little harder, but not impossible. But from the moment I knew that Cal was lying to me, I¡¯d wanted him to know how powerful I was. I wanted him to know that no matter how good he thought he was, I was better.

    Part of me knew that I was being just as egotistical as he had been, wanting to prove my worth to him like he¡¯d wanted to prove his to Mac. It was silly; our Talents weren¡¯t even similar, not comparable at all¡ªmine were much cooler.

    ¡°You make me sick,¡± I whispered in a low, threatening voice. I was so close to him that I swore I could feel a tiny whoosh as the dark hairs on his arms stood at attention. Pushing back from the table, I turned and walked through the door to the observation room, clenching my hands into fists to stop them from twitching.

 Chapter Seventy-Three: The One Where the Truth Starts to Unfold

    ¡°Are you alright?¡± Captain Alvarez asked when he saw me enter the observation room.

    ¡°I will be,¡± I replied tightly.

    His dark forehead was creased with worry, and his nearly black eyes shone with an unreadable expression.

    ¡°You have every right to be mad,¡± he said quietly.

    ¡°Did you know him? When he was a Pledge?¡± I inquired. I hadn¡¯t intended to ask, but suddenly I wanted to know.

    ¡°I did. I¡¯d been hesitant to take him. His physical abilities were decent¡ªhe did well on his combat examination, wasn¡¯t too bad with weapons either¡ªbut I didn¡¯t really see the point in wasting his God-given gifts. The Talent evaluation showed that he had an off-the-charts level of Higher Reasoning. I¡¯ve only ever seen one other person test so high,¡± he mused.

    I didn¡¯t need to read his mind to know that he was talking about me. I¡¯d felt Cal¡¯s strength the moment I walked into the room. It was partially what made me so desperate to display my own; the parallels made me uneasy.

    ¡°I¡¯d like to speak with Jennifer now,¡± I said, chewing nervously on my lower lip.

    ¡°You can take a couple of minutes if you like. She isn¡¯t going anywhere,¡± Captain Alvarez replied gently.

    I gave him a tight smile. ¡°I want to get this over with.¡±

    Jennifer had been staring nervously at the door, and when I walked in, her small eyes immediately lit up with recognition and her posture relaxed slightly.

    ¡°Hey, Jennifer.¡± I tried to sound pleasant.

    ¡°T-t-Talia,¡± she stuttered.

    ¡°Did they tell you why you were asked to come here?¡± I didn¡¯t waste any time with her either.

    ¡°Captain Alvarez said that someone from the Interrogation Division needed to talk to me. I didn¡¯t know that you¡¯d been reassigned.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, me neither,¡± I answered dryly, giving the two-way mirror a snarky look. ¡°I need to ask you some questions about the intel that you intercepted.¡±

    ¡°The stuff about Ian Crane?¡± she guessed, her anxiousness increasing.

    The claustrophobic room was making my senses even more acute than usual. I could smell the slightest hint of body odor, could see the tiny beads of perspiration beginning to form along her hairline.

    ¡°Yes, the stuff about Ian Crane,¡± I replied, stiffly. Her brain activity was all over the place, her thoughts racing over the week before my ill-fated mission.

    ¡°Was there anything off about the intel?¡±

    ¡°I already answered a bunch of questions,¡± she squeaked.

    ¡°I know that you did,¡± I soothed, trying to put her at ease. ¡°I¡¯m just following up on some leads. Was there anything off about the intel?¡± I repeated, more firmly this time.

    She hesitated only briefly before answering, ¡°Kinda.¡±

    Her honesty gave me pause; I hadn¡¯t expected her to admit anything without more prompting.

    ¡°What was strange about it?¡± I tried to stay calm. I could feel that she wanted to tell me. Jennifer was like an overinflated balloon, ready to pop with the guilt that she¡¯d bottled up inside, so I waited. I was mentally drained. If she wanted to tell me on her own¡ªwithout me having to pick it out of her head, I would wait all night. Besides, three people had already confirmed that there had indeed been something off with the intel.

    ¡°Well, the encryption was crude. It was way too simple, nothing that you¡¯d expect from information about President Crane¡¯s whereabouts. Usually, anything having to do with Crane is impossible to decipher. We¡¯re normally only able to decrypt like every third word¡ªit never makes any sense¡ªbut this information wasn¡¯t like that at all. It was easily identifiable,¡± she rambled, her pinched face contorting like she¡¯d eaten something unpleasant.

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you say anything?¡± I demanded.

    ¡°I did,¡± she urged. ¡°I told Cal. I told him that we should look into it, that something was off.¡± Tears began to pool in her eyes.

    ¡°What did Operative Simmons say when you told him that?¡± My jaw was so tight, I was surprised that the words slipped through my teeth.

    ¡°He said that it wasn¡¯t a big deal. He said that someone in Crane¡¯s organization must¡¯ve messed up and that we were lucky to intercept such valuable information. Cal said we¡¯d be promoted,¡± she wailed. The tears started to flow down her cheeks, and I almost felt bad for her. Maybe if I hadn¡¯t been shot and poisoned as a result of her mistake, I would have been more sympathetic.

    ¡°Did you report it to anyone else?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± she hiccupped. ¡°I wanted to. I really wanted to.¡± She was a fairly strong projector; she showed me exactly how Cal had threatened her when she¡¯d suggested telling. Her inability to take a stand against him, her weakness, nauseated me.

    ¡°So you never reported it?¡± I pressed, the calm in my voice surprising me.

    ¡°No,¡± she cried harder. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry. I¡¯m so sorry.¡± She hugged herself with her twig-like arms, her body racked with sobs.

    I didn¡¯t probe further into her head; there wasn¡¯t a need to do so. Her guilt was flooding into my mind, almost suffocating me. I needed to get out of that room, needed to get away from her before I did something that a moral person would later regret. I turned around and yanked the door open, fleeing to the observation room.

    I inhaled deeply through my nose, exhaled long huffing breaths through my mouth. My head was spinning so fast. Collapsing into one of the chairs sitting against the far wall, I wedged my head between my knees.

    Why hadn¡¯t someone said something? Rider had cited love. Cal claimed ambition. Jennifer was just plain weak. I couldn¡¯t decide who I wanted to throttle first.

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    ¡°I know that it probably doesn¡¯t change anything, but Cal and his team weren¡¯t promoted,¡± Captain Alvarez said gently. ¡°In fact, now we¡¯ll launch a full investigation into all three of them.¡±

    Three of them? Oh, right¡ªPenny.

    ¡°Penny was just a Pledge. If Jennifer couldn¡¯t stand up to Cal, there¡¯s no way that she could have.¡± I was quick to defend her even though my attempts felt lame, even to me. ¡°Maybe she didn¡¯t even realize what was going on.¡± Penny was an Elite Talent; there was no way that she hadn¡¯t known. Even if she didn¡¯t say something to Cal, why didn¡¯t she say something to me? Why hadn¡¯t she warned me that I might be walking into a trap?

    ¡°The fact that she was a Pledge might be the only thing that saves her from suspension, or worse.¡±

    The way he said it sent fingers of fear skittering down my spine; what was the ¡°or worse¡±?

    ***

    Still shaken from the interrogation sessions with Cal and Jennifer, I walked aimlessly in the general direction of guest housing. In the past twelve hours, I¡¯d learned more than I had in all the weeks I¡¯d spent observing the instructors and sifting through Operatives¡¯ files. Unfortunately, I had no idea what any of it meant.

    What did Grace cheating on her Placement Exams, Cal¡¯s ambition, and Jennifer¡¯s spineless nature have in common? Why did four separate people¡ªfive if you counted Penny¡ªlie about the same thing? Was that a coincidence?

    It was late and I was exhausted, but I knew that sleep would prove impossible. Instead of going to guest housing, I made my way to Erik. While I doubted that he¡¯d be able to shed any light on my findings, at least I wouldn¡¯t be alone.

    When I reached his door, I leaned my forehead heavily against the wood and knocked. There was no answer, and disappointment darkened my already black mood. I turned to leave.

    ¡°Tals?¡± Erik¡¯s melodic voice called when I¡¯d made it halfway back to the elevator.

    Calm relief washed over me and a smile unwittingly tugged at the corners of my mouth. I turned slowly back around. Erik hung out of his doorway, one hand gripping the frame as he leaned into the hall. His plaid pajama bottoms were slung low on his hips and his chest was bare. Despite everything else going on, I wanted to run over and throw my arms around him, feel the warm skin of his chest against my cheek.

    ¡°Hey,¡± I called back, my smile becoming a full-on grin when I met his eyes.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been waiting for you,¡± he said, beckoning for me to come closer.

    His turquoise irises shone brightly even in the dimly lit corridor, and my heart pounded. Why was it that no matter how many times I saw him, or how much time I spent with him, he always took my breath away?

    I ran the short distance and flung myself at him. Erik stumbled, but quickly wrapped his arms around me, pressing his lips on the top of my head. He didn¡¯t ask me if I was okay; I think that he knew I wasn¡¯t. With one arm still wrapped protectively around my middle, he pulled me into his room.

    As soon as I walked through the doorway, I felt at home in the familiar setting. I hadn¡¯t spent a lot of time in Erik¡¯s room in the brief time I¡¯d lived in the dorms¡ªwe usually hung out in mine¡ªyet the plush navy carpeting and plaid papered walls calmed me. There was a small blue plastic table with four blue chairs in the middle of the huge room, and his bed ran the length of a scenery window. He currently had the window set to natural, so I could see the trees and lake that were situated behind the building. The full moon bathed the grounds in an odd silvery glow.

    Erik led me over to his bed. He gently guided me to sit on the plaid comforter, and knelt on the floor next to the bed.

    ¡°What happened, Tal?¡± he whispered, running his hands up and down my arms to warm my cold flesh.

    ¡°I don¡¯t even know where to begin,¡± I said, shaking my head.

    Erik leaned closer, resting his forehead against mine. Thoughts of interrogation rooms and lying, cheating, ambitious, lovesick Operatives flew from my mind. I brought my lips to his, keeping my eyes open until the last second so that I could absorb the full impact of his emotions. Once his mouth was on mine, I reached to run my fingers through his hair. Erik caught my wrist and gently guided it, and me, back onto the mattress. Pinning my arm over my head, he hovered over me, his fingers laced with mine.

    Slowly, Erik¡¯s lips trailed down my chin, nestling in the hollow of my throat. The more he touched me, the more I relaxed. The tension ebbed with every kiss, and it wasn¡¯t long before I was a puddle beneath him. He ran his tongue up the side of my neck and nibbled on my earlobe.

    ¡°What happened?¡± he whispered. Erik felt how upset I¡¯d been when I first arrived, and he wanted to know why. Even though I knew that once he saw what I¡¯d been through, he¡¯d stop kissing me, I dropped the barriers. As I¡¯d predicted, Erik pulled away several seconds later. Except instead of looking worried, hysterical laughter burst from his lips.

    ¡°You bit him!¡± he exclaimed. ¡°That¡¯s awesome!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not funny,¡± I retorted defensively. But the more I thought about it, the more hilarious I found it, and soon I was laughing, too. It felt good.

    ¡°Man, I wish I¡¯d been there to see the look on his face,¡± Erik sighed, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye.

    ¡°I can¡¯t believe I reacted like that. I drew blood!¡±

    ¡°You were scared. He cornered you; it was instinctual,¡± he assured me.

    ¡°Instinctual? Maybe for a normal person, but I¡¯m a trained fighter. Hitting him, kicking him, even kneeing him in the balls would¡¯ve been natural. Biting him, though? That was just crazy,¡± I said.

    Erik¡¯s amused expression turned thoughtful, and he shifted to take his weight off of me. He rested on one elbow, absently twirling one of my curls around his finger as his mind churned over what I¡¯d just said.

    ¡°What?¡± I demanded after he¡¯d been silent for too long. ¡°You think that I¡¯m nuts, don¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°Of course not, Tal,¡± he said calmly, pulling the curls straight and watching, fascinated as they sprang back. I wanted to swat his hand away, but his kid-in-a-candy-store expression held me back.

    ¡°Then what is it?¡±

    ¡°Just wishing that you¡¯d bite me,¡± he teased.

    This time I did swat his chest, blushing from the roots of the hair that he was playing with to the tips of my sneaker-clad toes. Erik moved so quickly that I didn¡¯t realize what he was going to do until his jaws closed on one side of my neck. His teeth only nipped playfully at the skin, and my startled yelp quickly turned to a high-pitched giggle. Erik bit down a little harder before releasing me.

    ¡°Let¡¯s take a walk,¡± he abruptly suggested.

    ¡°A walk? Erik, I¡¯m exhausted,¡± I said, baffled by his ability to flip the switch on his hormones.

    ¡°Please, Tal. Let¡¯s take a walk to the lake,¡± he sent. His eyes darted around the room, urging me to understand something¡ªand I did. The reason that he¡¯d wanted to talk on the ledge the other night was the same reason that he wanted to go to the lake now.

    TOXIC common areas and secure facilities like the Crypto Bank were constantly monitored by security cameras and audio devices. Operatives¡¯ private apartments weren¡¯t on a live feed, but were randomly screened for inappropriate or illegal activity. To my knowledge, the only inappropriate behavior that took place in the bedrooms was drinking and naked sleepovers. Though neither was against the rules, depending on the circumstances, they might be heavily frowned upon.

    ¡°You¡¯re right. Fresh air would be good,¡± I finally agreed.

    I wasn¡¯t sure what Erik wanted to talk about, but I figured he must have a good reason to drag me across campus late at night.

    Erik found a shirt and flip-flops, and led me from the warmth of his bed. When we reached Hunters Village, I felt an immediate sense of longing. Memories flooded back as we passed the cabin where I¡¯d lived with Erik and Henri for most of my time as a Pledge. Opening my mind, I felt a flurry of activity inside. It was late, past curfew, meaning all the Pledges were safely tucked into their homes.

    ¡°You okay?¡± Erik asked, squeezing my hand affectionately.

    ¡°Yeah, nostalgia and all that.¡± I rolled my eyes.

    Erik gently tugged me toward the dark path that led to the lake. The only sound was the crunching of rocks and twigs under our feet as we wound our way through the woods. It wasn¡¯t long before reached the water. Erik selected a fallen log close to the lake¡¯s edge. He sat, pulling me down beside him.

    The lake was shimmering black glass under a cloudless sky. The moon hung ominously against the dark night, and the stars twinkled brightly above us. Cold air numbed me from the inside out. Erik seemed impervious to the temperature, but rubbed my back when he noticed me shivering. Under different circumstances, the moment would have been romantic. Long moments of silence stretched between us, Erik tracing the curve of my spine while I stared into the darkness.

    ¡°Start at the beginning and tell me everything that happened in Nevada,¡± he finally said.

 Chapter Seventy-Four: The One Where the Mimic Explains Mimics

    We sat in the shadows of ancient trees and the moon provided little light, but my heightened sense of sight could make out every detail of his smooth features. There were small lines around his clenched jaw, and his eyes scrunched at the corners, scrutinizing my own face. His expression was both tense and concerned.

    I heaved a huge sigh before launching into a detailed account of my mission, starting from when I jumped from the hover plane outside of Las Vegas. I told him about meeting Kyle, gaining his confidence, probing him for information, and using him to gain access to the house where Crane was staying. I retraced my journey through Crane¡¯s compound¡ªbreaking into his office, downloading the information from his computer, the decision to invade the basement, and the odd resistance that I encountered at the door leading into the bowels of the building. I didn¡¯t pause when I described being caught and waking up strapped to a bed, hesitating only when I recounted the conversation with Crane when he intimated that he¡¯d known my father.

    Throughout all of it, Erik traced small circles at the base of my skull with his thumb, soothing me as I spoke. His fingers went rigid against my skin when I described the bullet hitting my back, and I knew that he felt the pain as acutely as if the memory had been his own. The fingers gripping my neck tightened painfully, and anger radiated off of him. I ended my story at the point when I¡¯d released Crane¡¯s mind from the pain that I¡¯d been projecting¡ªmy own pain. When I finished, my eyes remained on the pebble that I was kicking back and forth with the toe of my tennis shoe. Erik took deep, calming breaths to quiet his outrage. He wanted to kill the man who¡¯d shot me, and it wasn¡¯t just an idle thought; when I¡¯d been injured on our very first Hunting Mission together, Erik hadn¡¯t even hesitated before plunging a knife into the throat of the man who stabbed me.

    ¡°So Crane recognized you in the pub, you think?¡± he asked when his breathing was finally under control.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think he recognized me. It was more like he felt me, like he knew that I was Talented,¡± I said, shuddering at the memory of our eyes briefly locked.

    ¡°But he knew your name when you woke up after being caught?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, he called me by it. He called me Talia.¡±

    Erik sat looking pensive for several long minutes. He picked up a handful of pebbles with his free hand, skimming them across the lake¡¯s surface. Tiny ripples appeared on the otherwise placid water as the stones bumped along before sinking to the bottom.

    ¡°Do you believe him about your father?¡± Erik finally asked.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. It was weird. His mind was blocked; it wasn¡¯t until after I¡¯d been shot that I broke down his defenses. Even then, I think that maybe he let me, like he wanted to take the pain away.¡±

    I hugged myself. I hadn¡¯t admitted that to anyone. The connection that I¡¯d formed with Crane had been absolute, our minds woven together like a quilt. I¡¯d been too focused on projecting to read his thoughts, but he would have had access to every memory of mine, every detail of my life. I hoped that the pain had been too intense for him to look.

    ¡°Did you see anything in his head, anything at all that could tell us who sold you out?¡± Erik asked, pulling me closer to him.

    ¡°No, but I didn¡¯t look either. I just wanted to get out of there. I barely remember anything that happened between getting shot and waking up in the hospital. Mac told me most of what I just told you; he pieced it together from the extraction team¡¯s reports.¡±

    Erik grew quiet again. He leaned his head against mine and dulled my emotions. While I appreciated his efforts, I didn¡¯t want to lose the anger and frustration that I¡¯d been holding on to. I wanted to hate Crane for what he¡¯d done to me; I wanted to hate him for killing my parents. It was the hatred that had gotten me through the years following their deaths, and it was what drove me still.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t ask Penny about the encryption when you saw her?¡± The question was rhetorical; Erik already knew that I hadn¡¯t, but I felt the need to answer anyway.

    ¡°She was agitated; I didn¡¯t want to bring it up.¡±

    Erik rubbed the space between his eyes with the heel of his palm, but didn¡¯t comment.

    ¡°She would¡¯ve told me if she knew, right?¡± I asked in a small voice. I needed his assurance to quash my own doubt.

    ¡°She¡¯s your best friend, Tal. I¡¯m sure that if she knew she would have told you,¡± he said. ¡°She probably didn¡¯t realize how simplistic the encryption was. She was just a Pledge, and pretty new at decrypting intel.¡± He was giving her the benefit of the doubt, but I could tell that he didn¡¯t really believe she was so na?ve.

    ¡°I¡¯ve spent every day of the past few weeks with her, and we talked about the mission. I would have known if she wasn¡¯t telling me something,¡± I replied confidently, trying to dispel our mutual skepticism.

    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± Erik agreed, turning to give me a small, genuine smile.

    But it was Mac¡¯s words I heard instead. ¡°Sometimes, those closest to us are the best at deceiving us; you of all people should know that,¡± he said. He was talking about Donavon then, but maybe those sentiments applied to Penny now.

    No, I thought firmly. She¡¯d cried when she learned what happened to me in Nevada. She¡¯d risked sanctions, and possibly even her appointment to the Crypto Division, when she¡¯d broken protocol to help me prepare for my mission. Besides, she was an orphan; there was no way she had any ties to the Coalition. The only time she ever left Headquarters was with me; I definitely would have known if she was having clandestine meetings with members of the Coalition when we went into the city. I hated myself for even doubting her, and I hated Donavon for creating a mistrust in me that hadn¡¯t been present before his infidelity.

    ¡°What about the other Cryptos?¡± I asked. ¡°I know that they all had their reasons for not telling the truth earlier, but I was so caught up in the whole encryption nonsense that I didn¡¯t really try to figure out if they had ties to the Coalition.¡±

    ¡°Could be,¡± he shrugged. ¡°But cheating on your Placement Exams doesn¡¯t exactly make you a criminal mastermind.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I said slowly. ¡°It seems like tricking the examiners into believing that you¡¯re Elite would be pretty hard.¡±

    ¡°Eh, it could be done. Depends how good the Mimic was that tested her,¡± he replied absently.

    ¡°Mimic?¡± I asked, surprised. I tried to recall my own Talent Ranking session. Mac, a Telepath, and a Manipulator had made up the panel that asked me questions and forced me to display my abilities. The Manipulator had been strong¡ªI¡¯d felt his strength just like I¡¯d felt Cal¡¯s. Looking back, that was a little odd; Mac had always told me that I was the only TOXIC member with such strong powers of Manipulation.

    ¡°Yeah, all testing panels have a high-ranking Agency member, an Operative with the student¡¯s same abilities, and a Mimic. Exceptional Talents, like you, are easy to feel¡ªmost people with any extra perception will pick up on it. Even non-Talented people can feel your power; they just don¡¯t understand what they¡¯re feeling. It¡¯s harder, though, with your average Talent, which is why they use us. Mimics are best equipped to get a read on a Talent¡¯s strength,¡± he explained.

    ¡°I don¡¯t remember a Mimic being on my panel,¡± I said, shaking my head.

    ¡°Do you remember a Manipulator being there?¡± he countered.

    ¡°Of course. Mac said that a person with my same abilities would sit in to gauge my strength relative to his.¡±

    ¡°I bet you that was a Mimic.¡±

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    ¡°No way. I¡¯d have known,¡± I declared. I would¡¯ve . . . right?

    ¡°Did you know what I was when we fought during your trials?¡± Erik asked, giving me a playful nudge. I smiled at the memory of our first encounter.

    In addition to the Talent-ranking portion of my Placement Exam, I¡¯d also had a physical trial. Erik had been one of the combatants that I¡¯d faced, and I¡¯d been sorely unprepared. All of the other fighters had been easy to defeat; I¡¯d been able to control them through manipulation. Not Erik, though. The moment I tried to take over his mind, he¡¯d thrown my abilities right back at me. The match had quickly turned ugly.

    ¡°Point taken,¡± I said. ¡°I knew that you weren¡¯t a Manipulator. I just didn¡¯t know what you were.¡±

    ¡°If I¡¯d been better at replicating your powers, you would¡¯ve thought I was a Manipulator. I bet that the Mimic on your panel was better acquainted with Manipulation than I was.¡±

    ¡°I doubt that; you¡¯re an Elite,¡± I pointed out.

    Erik fidgeted uncomfortably, pulling at the drawstring of his pajama bottoms. He seemed almost embarrassed, and refused to meet my eyes.

    ¡°I¡¯m not exactly an Elite, Tal. Mimics don¡¯t have rankings,¡± he finally said.

    ¡°Are you serious?¡± I exclaimed. All Talents had rankings. At least, I¡¯d thought they did. But Mimics were rare, and Erik was the only one that I knew personally.

    ¡°Yeah. If you¡¯re a Mimic, you just . . . are. Mimics are only as strong as the Talent they¡¯re imitating, and even then it¡¯s complicated,¡± he mumbled.

    Ahh, so that¡¯s why I felt the guy on my panel, I thought. I was actually feeling my own power when he mimicked me. How weird.

    ¡°Complicated seems to be the word of the day. Explain it to me,¡± I said.

    ¡°Like I said, Mimics are only as strong as the Talent they¡¯re mimicking. I can morph into any animal and even other humans when I¡¯m around Henri because he can do all of that. When I¡¯m with you, I can read people¡¯s minds, control them just like you do.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve noticed,¡± I quipped. Erik frequently read my thoughts now, and even controlled them on occasion.

    He smiled, not ashamed at all.

    ¡°I only do it to you when you¡¯re really upset,¡± he promised.

    ¡°Yeah, yeah, yeah¡ªjust get to the complicated part.¡± I gave him a scowl even though I wasn¡¯t really upset. I knew that he did it because he cared.

    ¡°Well, I have to learn how to do those things. That¡¯s why it took us so long in the beginning to form the three-way connection between you, me, and Henri. Remember?¡±

    I did remember. At first, it had seemed like we would never pull it off. Henri had been so frustrated sometimes, I¡¯d worried that he regretted offering to take me on as part of his team.

    ¡°Higher Reasoning is the same way. I can mimic one, my brain will analyze the data and compute things really quickly and all that, but I don¡¯t know what to do with the information once I have it. I doubt that I¡¯d be able to gauge their strength since I don¡¯t really understand how their abilities work.¡±

    I¡¯d always thought that being a Mimic would be cool, having the ability to possess so many different gifts. But after hearing Erik¡¯s description, I wasn¡¯t sure. It actually sounded like a lot of work. After spending years learning how to use my own gifts, I couldn¡¯t imagine how much effort and dedication it took to learn everyone else¡¯s, too.

    ¡°If Grace did well on her written exams¡ªlike if Rider had given her the answers and coached her through it¡ªand the Mimic on her panel wasn¡¯t well versed in how Higher Reasoning works, he might¡¯ve just thought that his reading was off,¡± he continued.

    ¡°So when you¡¯re around Penny, for instance, you can¡¯t tell she¡¯s an Elite?¡± I asked, oddly fascinated by the revelation.

    ¡°No, I can¡¯t,¡± he admitted. ¡°I¡¯ve never tried to mimic her specifically, but I imagine that if I did, I¡¯d be able to replicate her powers, just not implement them.¡±

    ¡°What about other Mimics?¡± I pressed. ¡°What do you feel when you¡¯re around them?¡±

    ¡°I feel nothing, unless they¡¯re mimicking another Talent. If that¡¯s the case, I feel the other Talent¡¯s abilities. When they¡¯re at rest, it¡¯s kind of like being around a normal human . . . but not,¡± he finished lamely.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± My brain was on overload. I couldn¡¯t process all of this. I should¡¯ve brought Penny; her analytical abilities would¡¯ve come in real handy right about now.

    ¡°Their Talent essence is still there. I can feel that there¡¯s something that separates them from your average person, but it¡¯s blank and undefined.¡±

    ¡°Weird,¡± I whispered.

    ¡°Yeah, thanks. I know, I¡¯m a freak.¡± He laughed, pulling a lock of my hair to demonstrate how much he appreciated my commentary.

    ¡°That¡¯s not what I meant! I just never knew any of this. Why didn¡¯t you ever tell me?¡±

    Erik shrugged. ¡°It never came up. TOXIC puts such an emphasis on rankings that I don¡¯t like to tell people that I don¡¯t have one. I am the only Hunter who isn¡¯t Elite; it¡¯s kind of embarrassing.¡±

    I turned and stared directly into his eyes. He looked so vulnerable. It was almost troubling to see Erik this way; he was always so confident, so sure of himself. I leaned in and kissed him softly. The hand on my neck tangled in my hair as his lips parted. I loved the way he tasted and I scooted closer until I was practically on top of him, but Erik gently pushed me back with his free hand.

    ¡°Easy, Tals,¡± he whispered. I shrank away from him, humiliated by his admonishment. ¡°Hey, it¡¯s not like that,¡± he promised, cupping my chin and stroking my cheek with his thumb. ¡°You¡¯ve had a long day and it¡¯s late. Why don¡¯t we go to bed? If you get some sleep, maybe all of this stuff about codes and everything will make more sense in the morning.¡±

    Erik stood and offered me his hand, which I took.

    ¡°Guest housing? Or my place?¡± he asked as he led me from the woods.

    ¡°Do you even have to ask?¡± I teased. Of course, I wanted to stay with him.

    ¡°My place it is.¡±

    When I met his gaze, the intensity lit my skin on fire, and I had to look away. Erik laughed softly and squeezed my hand. Sometimes I thought that making me squirm gave him a thrill.

    When we got back to Erik¡¯s room he found a pair of workout shorts and an old t-shirt for me to use. In his bathroom, I found an extra toothbrush and set about getting ready for bed.

    Erik was already in his bed with the covers folded back when I finished. I crossed the room to join him. Erik covered me with the blankets before drawing my head against his chest. He folded one hand behind his head and slid the other around my waist. I turned my face up, expecting him to kiss me, but his eyes were already closed and he didn¡¯t bring his lips to meet mine. I kissed the side of his neck and began working my way to his mouth.

    ¡°Tals, don¡¯t,¡± he mumbled, his pulse quickening.

    ¡°Why?¡± I demanded. I could tell that he wanted me; why was he being like this?

    ¡°Exactly, but you¡¯re too vulnerable,¡± Erik said, reading the thoughts straight from my head. ¡°Please don¡¯t make this any harder than it already is.¡±

    Vulnerable? He thought I was vulnerable?

    Erik sighed audibly. ¡°Tal,¡± he began, ¡°I just meant that you¡¯ve been through a lot today and you¡¯re exhausted and on edge. I can feel all of that. I can feel how badly you need to sleep. I don¡¯t want you to have another seizure on my account.¡±

    ¡°Stay out of my head,¡± I mumbled.

    ¡°I¡¯m not in your head. You¡¯re projecting.¡± I didn¡¯t doubt that he was right; my thoughts were bouncing around my skull, fighting for freedom from their cranial prison.

    I turned away from him and scooted to the edge of the bed. Erik let me go and didn¡¯t even react when I purposefully removed his hand from my waist. He let me stew, lost in my thoughts. I let the events of the day overtake my bruised ego.

    All of the information that I¡¯d learned raced through my mind on separate tracks, like sprinters in their own lanes, all aiming for the same finish line but never crossing paths. The facts seemed like pieces of different puzzles¡ªthe lying Operatives, the simplistic encryption, Ian Crane knowing my name, the fact that Mimics didn¡¯t have rankings. There had to be a common denominator; I just needed to find it.

    I became so lost in thought that I didn¡¯t realize Erik was still awake. He didn¡¯t say anything when he curled his strong body behind mine, wrapping one arm around my waist. He pulled me tight against his chest, nudged my curls aside with his chin, and buried his face in the back of my neck. His mouth was next to my ear, his lips brushing my skin.

    ¡°It¡¯s gonna be okay, Tal. We¡¯ll figure this out. Please don¡¯t cry.¡±

    I brought my fingers to my cheeks, surprised to find that hot tears were weaving patterns across my cheekbones and dripping down the sides of my nose. My body began shaking as I started to openly sob. I didn¡¯t even know why I was crying. The shaking became so violent that I thought it might be the beginning of a seizure. It just made me cry harder. Erik rolled me over to face him and tightened his hold. I cried harder, balling handfuls of his shirt in my clenched fists. The harder my body convulsed, the tighter Erik held me.

    After what seemed like forever, my muscles relaxed and the spasms stopped. My tears gave way to hiccups. Erik gently detangled my fingers from his shirt and laced them through his. He forced my head back, and I looked up at him through swollen eyes. His expression was so gentle. He brought his mouth to mine and kissed me softly, our lips barely touching. I tasted my salty tears.

    Erik¡¯s mind was open, and his feelings for me clouded all of my other thoughts. The weight that had been bearing down on me since Nevada lifted. I felt light, free. I wanted this feeling to last forever. Suddenly, I was so overcome with the desire to sleep that I couldn¡¯t keep my eyes open. My mind seemed to go blank and my thoughts became shadows that I couldn¡¯t catch.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know about forever, but at least long enough so you can get some sleep,¡± Erik whispered, pulling back from the kiss but staying close enough that his lips still brushed mine when he spoke.

    The small part of me that wanted to retain control fought against Erik once I understood what he was doing. As much as I enjoyed the unburdening of my consciousness, I hated surrendering my will even to him.

    ¡°I just want to help. Don¡¯t fight,¡± Erik said gently.

    ¡°You¡¯ve apparently mastered my abilities,¡± I mumbled.

    ¡°Do you want me to stop?¡± he asked, lessening his hold so I could make the decision for myself.

    ¡°No,¡± I decided. ¡°I don¡¯t.¡±

    I really didn¡¯t. I felt weak and more than a little pathetic letting him do this for me; but before he¡¯d taken over, I¡¯d felt manic and unstable. Between the two states, I¡¯d rather be the former.

    ¡°Sleep, Tals. I¡¯m right here. I¡¯m not going anywhere,¡± he soothed.

    ¡°Promise?¡± I whispered, hoarsely.

    ¡°Promise.¡±

 Chapter Seventy-Five: The One with the Morphers Blood

    That night my dreams were consumed by lines of scrolling text. The letters L, I, A, and R blazed orange as strings of white letters, numbers, and symbols crisscrossed my subconscious. A voice chanted ¡°liar, liar, liar¡± over and over. Those images gave way to me standing in the center of the School¡¯s indoor practice arena, facing my placement panel. ¡°I know you are, but what am I?¡± a man¡¯s voice taunted me.

    As I stared at him, perplexed by his malicious expression, he transformed into Cal. Suddenly, I was in the claustrophobic interrogation room with Cal¡¯s hulking form looming over me. He became a giant tiger before my eyes, and Captain Alvarez¡¯s voice boomed through the speakers. ¡°Elite, Elite, Elite,¡± he proclaimed. Then I was with Kenly, helping her train. I advanced on her, preparing to demonstrate some combination of offensive maneuvers when the earth quaked and a deep chasm appeared. I teetered on the edge, my arms flailing as I tried to regain my balance. I called to her for help, but instead of catching me like she did when I slipped on the baton, she let me fall.

    I woke with a start, panting heavily and bathed in sweat. Nightmare, just a nightmare, I assured myself. I glanced down at Erik¡¯s sleeping form, and instantly calmed.

    One of his arms was still wrapped around my waist, and it tightened when I stirred. His other arm was flung over his head on the pillow. Long, dark lashes brushed the deep shadows under his closed eyes. His lips were parted slightly and he breathed evenly. At rest, the lines of tension around his mouth and eyes had smoothed, and his trademark mischievous smile was absent. He looked peaceful and much younger than his twenty years.

    I smiled as I snuggled against him, lightly tracing the contours of his perfect features. Responding to my touch, Erik absently brushed his lips across my forehead and mumbled incoherently.

    ¡°Erik?¡± I whispered, craning my neck so that my mouth was next to his ear.

    ¡°Sleep, Tal. I¡¯m here,¡± he mumbled, pulling me closer.

    ¡°Erik, I need you to get up,¡± I said softly.

    He made a couple more unintelligible noises in reply, but refused to open his eyes. As much as I hated to wake him, I really needed to. So I bit his earlobe, hard.

    ¡°Jesus, Tal,¡± he cried, yanking his head back.

    ¡°Oh, good, you¡¯re awake!¡± I exclaimed brightly, giving him an innocent smile.

    Erik scowled, fixing me with bloodshot eyes. I immediately felt bad for waking him. He¡¯d stayed up most of the night to ensure that I slept; every time I¡¯d cried out, he¡¯d soothed me back to dreamland. Unfortunately for him, it was there that inspiration struck; my dreams of Placement Tests and encrypted text gave me an idea. I knew that I was missing some of the puzzle pieces, but the ones I did have were starting to form a picture.

    ¡°What¡¯s so important that it can¡¯t wait another hour?¡± Erik asked drowsily, letting his lids fall closed.

    ¡°I need to talk to a Crypto,¡± I said, pinching the skin that covered his taut stomach muscles.

    The hand behind his head shot down and long fingers encircled my wrist. ¡°Hands off the goods, Lyons,¡± he smirked. ¡°You¡¯re giving me funny ideas.¡±

    I had a pretty good idea what those funny ideas were when the hand at my waist snaked up my shirt. Erik¡¯s fingers trailed over my stomach now, dipping dangerously low into the waistband of my borrowed gym shorts.

    ¡°I¡¯m serious,¡± I protested, swatting feebly at his chest. ¡°I want to see some personnel records and placement results.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not Penny,¡± he reminded me.

    ¡°Right, but you are a Mimic.¡±

    Erik¡¯s body stiffened. ¡°You want me to Mimic a Crypto and do what, exactly?¡± he said slowly.

    ¡°Some of the files I want are probably restricted. If I ask Mac to get them for me, then he¡¯ll want to know why, and I don¡¯t want to say anything to him until I¡¯m sure.¡±

    ¡°So you want me to mimic a Crypto, break into the database and get the records for you?¡± Erik¡¯s eyes flew open in alarm. ¡°Tal, I can¡¯t do that. I explained this to you last night¡ªI¡¯ll be able to mimic the Brain¡¯s Talents, but I wouldn¡¯t even know where to begin once I¡¯m in.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want you to mimic the Brain¡¯s Talents. I want you to mimic mine,¡± I replied calmly. I¡¯d thought this through already. ¡°You can use my Manipulation to control the Crypto and get him to retrieve the files.¡±

    ¡°Not that I don¡¯t want to help,¡± Erik began evenly. ¡°But why can¡¯t you just control him yourself? Wouldn¡¯t that be a lot easier than having me mimic you to manipulate him? No offense, Tal, but this plan seems pretty convoluted. . . . ¡±. Erik shook his head and settled back against his pillow. The hand at my waist had stilled when I told him what I wanted, but now began scrawling lazy lines across my stomach.

    ¡°I won¡¯t be able to control him,¡± I said quietly, hating to admit the weakness.

    ¡°You can control anyone. Don¡¯t play the feel-bad-for-me card. I¡¯ve been on the other end of your Manipulation; I know exactly how strong you are.¡± Erik sounded irritated, but he continued to hold me close. He guided my wrist to his chest and gripped my sides, lifting me so that I was lying on top of him. Erik¡¯s mouth found my throat and he nibbled his way down to the neckline of my tee.

    ¡°Erik, stop. I¡¯m serious,¡± I mumbled. My words came out low and throaty, and we both knew that I didn¡¯t really want him to stop.

    ¡°If you really want me to stop, make me.¡± He flipped me over so fast that I let out a startled cry when my back hit the mattress. Erik moved over me, dipping his mouth to meet mine, the challenge evident in his amused eyes. I pushed gently on his chest to keep him at bay.

    ¡°I¡¯m serious. I can¡¯t,¡± I said. The playful expression turned serious as he settled on his elbow beside me. ¡°I¡¯m too drained from yesterday; I haven¡¯t used that much energy in months. Ever since I came back from Nevada . . . I just get tired so easily, and I don¡¯t have the strength left to completely control another person.¡±

    I met his troubled gaze, and the pure sympathy made me look away. I hated appearing weak, particularly in front of him. From our first meeting, he¡¯d been taking care of me. When I got hurt on our first mission, he absorbed the pain so I wouldn¡¯t have to feel it. After Donavon cheated on me, Erik helped repair my broken heart. During my seizure on the ledge, Erik had taken control, kept me conscious and sane. Even last night, he¡¯d dulled my emotions and quieted my racing thoughts so that I could sleep.

    Erik wiped at the tear that trickled from my tightly scrunched eye. ¡°I wanted to do those things for you,¡± he whispered. ¡°Having help doesn¡¯t make you weak.¡±

    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

    ¡°You never need someone to pick up the pieces of your crumbling life,¡± I sniffed. I knew I was being dramatic, but I felt like there was a pile of bricks on my chest. Receiving the injections and the constant monitoring of my blood were bad enough, but now I couldn¡¯t even use my Talents. My gifts had been an essential part of who I was for my entire life and now they were failing just like my health and sanity.

    ¡°Like I said, a Mimic is only as strong as the Talent they¡¯re imitating, and I¡¯m stronger than ever when I¡¯m around you. Your abilities are just as good¡ªmaybe better¡ªthan before your mission. I didn¡¯t do all of those things for you because I think you¡¯re weak. I did them because I care about you, because I want to help you. And if you want my help now, I¡¯m there.¡± He leaned over and kissed my tearstained cheek.

    The warmth and gentleness of his words only made me cry harder. Erik held me and whispered assurances, his voice like silk encasing me in a safe cocoon. He didn¡¯t try to take the pain away; instead, he let me cry until I¡¯d gotten it all out.

    When I was cried out, Erik led me to the bathroom. I sat on the closed toilet lid while he started the shower.

    ¡°Need help getting naked?¡± he asked, squatting so that he was peering up at me. His tone was coy and suggestive, and I knew that he was trying to put an end to my pity party.

    ¡°I think I can manage.¡± I smiled.

    ¡°I don¡¯t mind, Tals. I¡¯m happy to help you wash your hair, rub soap on your back . . . or your¡ª¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be okay,¡± I cut him off before he could voice the inappropriate images that he was projecting.

    ¡°If my services aren¡¯t needed, I guess I¡¯ll go get your clothes,¡± he offered, standing to leave.

    ¡°Thanks, Erik,¡± I said softly to his retreating back. At first I didn¡¯t think that he¡¯d heard me, but his mental reply came through the closed door.

    ¡°If you let me help you shower, then you¡¯d really have something to thank me for.¡±

    Despite my dire mood, I beamed as I climbed over the side of the tub.

    My bag was sitting inside the bathroom door when I emerged from the hot water. I quickly dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved white t-shirt. As I wound my hair into a wet knot on top of my head, I tried to quash the growing bubble of dread in my stomach. I was almost positive that I would find the missing link in the records. But now that I was so close to uncovering the truth, I was more apprehensive then excited.

    I definitely wanted to unmask the traitor. I wanted him to pay for what he¡¯d done to me. The anger and frustration from the previous day remained; and I knew that when I did fill in all the gaps, no amount of deep breathing, equalizers, or manipulation from Erik was going to quell my desire for revenge. Even thinking about it made my blood boil. Still, the knot of anxiety in my stomach pulled tighter with each passing moment.

    Erik sat on his bed, dressed in his standard attire ¨C jeans and a dark green polo shirt ¨C when I returned to the bedroom. He was playing with his communicator, but glanced up when he heard me.

    ¡°Ready?¡± he asked with an easy smile.

    ¡°Definitely,¡± I replied with a confidence that didn¡¯t penetrate the surface.

    Erik cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable. ¡°Um, Donavon said to let him know when you¡¯re ready to fly out. He, um . . . he said he¡¯d be with Harris, working out . . . or something.¡±

    ¡°You saw Donavon?¡± I asked. I hadn¡¯t given him a second thought since landing the day before.

    ¡°Yeah, his room is next to yours. And...well, he kinda heard me getting your things.¡± Erik was visibly distraught talking about Donavon. I knew that if I read his mind, I¡¯d find that the conversation between the two hadn¡¯t been as friendly as what he imparted. On the plus side, Erik appeared bruise¡ªand blood¡ªfree, so at least their interaction hadn¡¯t come to blows.

    ¡°He also wanted me to remind you to take your medicine. Said you have a shot in your bag?¡±

    I did have a shot in my bag, but I had yet to administer the medication myself. Dr. Thistler always gave me the injection, and just the thought of plunging the needle into my own arm made my stomach roll.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be okay until I get back to school,¡± I said decisively. ¡°It¡¯d be better if Dr. Thistler gave it to me anyway.¡± I gave him a reassuring smile.

    The look in Erik¡¯s eyes¡ªnot to mention the images of me shaking on the ledge that were playing in his mind¡ªtold me that he thought waiting was a bad idea. He opened his mouth to argue, but quickly reconsidered.

    ¡°You¡¯re the boss,¡± he said instead.

    It was really early, and the night-shift Cryptos would still be on duty. I wasn¡¯t very well acquainted with many of the Brains, and hoped that the ones working would be weak-willed. Erik had demonstrated that he was more than capable of controlling even the most reluctant of minds ¨C namely mine ¨C but I didn¡¯t want any problems.

    The Crypto Bank at Headquarters was just as sterile and impersonal as the one at School. I led Erik around a curved hallway lined with frosted-glass doors. I knocked on one at random, marked ¡°213,¡± and waited. Erik reached for my hand and gave it a brief squeeze as soft footsteps made their way to greet us.

    ¡°Hey,¡± a short, skinny boy said when he opened the door. ¡°Are you two in the wrong place?¡±

    ¡°No. I don¡¯t know if you know who I am, but¡ª¡± I started to say.

    ¡°Talia, right?¡± he interrupted. ¡°And Erikson Kelley?¡± he said, turning to Erik.

    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s right,¡± Erik answered. ¡°We were hoping that you could help us with something. Talia needs some personnel records.¡±

    ¡°Oh. Well, you know, I can¡¯t really do that without authorization,¡± the boy stammered.

    Erik released my hand and stepped forward. His gaze was steady as he pinned the smaller boy¡¯s watery brown eyes with his. ¡°You said that you know who Talia is, so you must also know that she lives with Director McDonough? He personally approved her access to any files that she needs, and you wouldn¡¯t want to upset him, would you?¡±

    The boy stumbled several paces back under Erik¡¯s intensity, and his expression went slack. ¡°No, of course not. Come in,¡± he mumbled.

    Luck must have been on our side; when I stepped inside the small room, I saw that the boy was alone.

    ¡°Where¡¯s your partner?¡± I asked.

    Sick, I read from his mind, a moment before his lips formed the words.

    ¡°So it¡¯s just you today?¡± I confirmed.

    ¡°Just me,¡± he agreed.

    The Brain walked over to his computer chair and sat, facing the wall of electronics. Erik crouched beside him while I flanked his other side. The boy looked uneasily between the two of us, like we might attack him at any minute.

    ¡°What files do you need?¡± he asked Erik.

    Erik glanced in my direction, and I mentally sent him the names of all the Cryptos who¡¯d had access to my mission intel and the Instructors that I¡¯d been investigating. ¡°I¡¯m specifically interested in their Placement Exams, but get their complete records.¡±

    Erik spoke in soft, soothing tones as he relayed my request. The boy¡¯s fingers flew noisily across the keys. I tapped my nails impatiently on the desk; the anticipation was making me antsy. I was so close to the truth; I just knew it.

    ¡°Relax, Tals. I¡¯ve got this,¡± Erik sent. When I met his eyes over the boy¡¯s head, he winked.

    I laughed; he was enjoying himself. Erik loved the thrill of the hunt. This wasn¡¯t like the missions we went on as Hunters, but it was mentally demanding and possibly a little risky. If this led nowhere, I had no doubt that Mac would understand, but he¡¯d frown on my breach of protocol. And while Erik had been vetted, I wasn¡¯t so sure that Mac would appreciate his involvement. I just hoped that when the time came for explanations, Mac would go easy on him.

    ¡°Anything else?¡± Erik asked me.

    I debated briefly. This might be my only opportunity to get my medical records. While Mac would overlook me manipulating the Crypto to get the other Operatives¡¯ files, I wasn¡¯t confident that he¡¯d feel the same way about mine. He¡¯d deliberately omitted Donavon¡¯s blood transfusion and possibly threatened his son into lying to me. Those details were enough for me to be incredibly curious.

    ¡°I want my medical records,¡± I finally sent. It was a gamble, but I had to know. ¡°Donavon¡¯s too.¡±

    Erik raised his eyebrows in a questioning gesture as if to ask whether I was sure. When I nodded, he instructed the Crypto to access the information. After the boy had pulled all the files, Erik had him print hard copies and then mask the intrusion. The Crypto did as he was told. Erik walked to the printer and retrieved the ream of paper.

    ¡°Thanks for doing what you could for us,¡± Erik said, and headed for the door.

    ¡°Yeah, man. Sorry I couldn¡¯t be more help. Protocol and all that,¡± the Brain replied, looking bewildered by the stack of pages that Erik now cradled in the crook of his elbow.

    I reached for Erik¡¯s free hand, lacing his fingers with mine when we emerged from the Crypto Bank. Rays of bright orange sunshine shone through the smattering of ancient trees, and our shadows cast long, distorted figures on the lush grass. Birds chirped their morning song while Operatives stumbled tiredly from their cabins. Today was just like any other day for them, but not for me; today I would finally learn the truth. The papers that Erik held would prove the identity of the spy; I could feel it. Even more importantly¡ªat least to me¡ªthey held the truth about my blood transfusions. I would finally know for sure if it had been Donavon¡¯s blood that made me sick.

 Chapter Seventy-Six: The One with Too Many Mimics

    ¡°What are we looking for? I¡¯ll take half,¡± Erik offered once we were sitting on his bed, the pages strewn across the comforter.

    ¡°Honestly, I¡¯m not sure. It was something you said about the Placement Exams and how Mimics work. It got me thinking that maybe Grace isn¡¯t the only one who cheated.¡±

    As I explained my theory out loud, it sounded a little thin even to me. But the sense of urgency that caused me to force Erik awake before the birds was the same one that had me convinced now that I was right.

    ¡°Let¡¯s get started then. Want me to order breakfast?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Sure, whatever,¡± I replied distractedly. Food was the last thing on my mind. I was already rifling through the first file¡ªmine.

    Unfortunately, the words in the medical file held about as much meaning to me as the encoded lines of text that scrolled across Penny¡¯s screens. The blood transfusion was documented, but that was about as much as I could decipher. The names of the experimental drugs that Dr. Thistler gave me were unfamiliar. The complex chemical formulas explaining the analysis of my daily blood work were longer than I was tall. The only words that made any sense were Dr. Thistler¡¯s diagnoses¡ª¡°fair¡±, ¡°acceptable¡±, or ¡°extreme¡±¡ªthat accompanied the results.

    Frustrated, I threw the report to the carpet and rubbed my temples. Great, I thought. I¡¯d been so convinced that once I saw the records I¡¯d finally know why the transfusion mattered so much. Maybe Donavon was right; maybe Mac really was only angry because he¡¯d breached protocol.

    ¡°What he did was really dangerous,¡± Erik commented when I voiced my thoughts. ¡°If your body had rejected the transfusion, you could¡¯ve died.¡±

    ¡°I know. But if it¡¯s that simple, then why didn¡¯t anyone tell me?¡±

    ¡°Maybe the Director just didn¡¯t think it was a big deal. I mean, he didn¡¯t tell you where the other blood came from, did he?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I guess you¡¯re right,¡± I admitted. Despite our words, neither of us really believed it was that simple, and the doubt in Erik¡¯s mind doubled my own. But neither of us had enough medical knowledge to glean anything from the records to the contrary. I resolved to confront Mac when I got back to school. If he told me that the transfusion didn¡¯t matter, that it had nothing to do with my current condition, I¡¯d drop it.

    Erik and I worked in companionable silence for hours. The room-service waiter came and went, and at Erik¡¯s insistence I ate several bites of French toast and maple syrup sausage. My fingers shook as I turned one page after another. The dull ache in my head became a full-on throbbing by the time I¡¯d made it through Jennifer¡¯s entire life history. TOXIC¡¯s restricted personnel files were exhaustive, extensive, and¡ªworst of all¡ªboring.

    ¡°Maybe we should take a break?¡± Erik suggested when he noticed me rubbing trembling palms over tired eyes.

    ¡°No, no, it¡¯s here. I know it is. I¡¯m just missing something.¡± I sighed, annoyed with our lack of progress.

    ¡°Come here,¡± Erik said, reaching across the sea of paper that separated us to take my hand. ¡°You¡¯re shaking. Just rest for a few minutes. I¡¯ll keep looking.¡±

    I let Erik pull me to settle in with my back against his chest, but I brought Grace¡¯s written test results with me. It wasn¡¯t long before my head was bobbing back against his shoulder and my eyes wouldn¡¯t stay open. I tried to resist it, but I didn¡¯t have the strength; the page in my hand fell to my lap and I started to dream.

    My subconscious knew that Erik was aiding my brain in the struggle to put me under. The darkness swirled into dreams of limbs attached to strings, a different puppeteer pulling each one. I woke with a start, jostling a neat stack of paper and sending it flying to the floor.

    ¡°Don¡¯t do that,¡± I snapped, turning my head to scowl at Erik. ¡°I¡¯m not a child. I don¡¯t need you helping me sleep.¡±

    Erik gave me puppy dog eyes as if to say, ¡°who, me?¡± Annoyed, I picked up the next report in my pile, but I didn¡¯t protest when he moved my hair to the side to nuzzle my neck.

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    As I tried to concentrate on the words in front of me, two caught my eye: Light Manipulator. A light bulb clicked on, cutting through the haze in my brain.

    ¡°Erik?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Hmmm,¡± he mumbled into the back of my neck.

    ¡°How often do you use my Talents against me?¡± Erik drew back, caught off guard by the question.

    ¡°Use them against you? That makes it sound so malicious.¡±

    ¡°You know what I mean.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, not often. Just when you want me to,¡± he added, sounding a little defensive. I think we had different definitions of ¡°want.¡±

    ¡°Do you ever do it without me knowing?¡± I asked nervously, dreading his answer.

    Erik fidgeted uncomfortably behind me and began absently twirling my curls as if to buy some time before he answered. ¡°Yeah, sometimes,¡± he finally said.

    ¡°Like when?¡± I pressed. I had a sinking feeling that only the captain of the Titanic had experienced before me; I was pretty sure that I¡¯d found the missing link.

    ¡°Like when we¡¯re together,¡± Erik said. ¡°But Tal, I just want to know how you¡¯re feeling, want to make sure you¡¯re comfortable and that I¡¯m not pressuring you into doing something you don¡¯t want to do.¡± He wrapped his arms around me from behind and pulled me tightly against his chest. ¡°And I like to feel your reactions.¡±

    I rolled my eyes¡ªErik didn¡¯t need reassurance in that department. I wasn¡¯t concerned with him reading my thoughts; despite all of my training, I was a strong projector and he¡¯d always been more susceptible to receiving it than most. It was the compulsion facet of my gift that worried me.

    ¡°Do you ever control my thoughts when I¡¯m not aware of it?¡± I whispered shakily. The feeling of dread was evolving into a full-blown panic attack.

    Erik hesitated, which was all the confirmation I needed.

    ¡°I don¡¯t mean to. Sometimes you¡¯re just so upset, and I hate seeing you that way, so I do it without thinking,¡± he finally admitted.

    ¡°I need to get back to School, now.¡± I practically jumped off the bed, sending files flying to the floor in my haste.

    ¡°Wait. Why?¡± Erik exclaimed, grabbing for my wrist before I made it very far.

    ¡°I think I know who the spy is,¡± I said.

    ¡°Who?¡±

    In light of our discussion, I¡¯d thrown up my walls and was using all my remaining strength to keep them firmly in place. I hated how vulnerable I¡¯d become. I¡¯d let my guard down too much around him, and apparently around at least one other person. He¡¯d been in my head more than I¡¯d realized, and while I trusted him, my complacency had exposed me to others. I felt violated and dirty just thinking about it. Now I knew how other people felt when I delved into their heads.

    I turned to meet his earnest, terrified expression, and I debated telling him the truth.

    ¡°Tal, don¡¯t shut me out,¡± he urged. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I don¡¯t mean to be intrusive. I promise I¡¯ll stop if you want.¡±

    ¡°I¡ªI¡ªI just need to go,¡± I stammered, yanking my wrist free from his grasp and running for the door.

    ¡°Natalia, stop!¡± Erik bellowed. The force of his command froze my feet mid-step. Erik quickly caught up with me. ¡°Tal,¡± he began in a much gentler and less controlling tone. ¡°It¡¯s just that¡ª¡±

    ¡°Please don¡¯t say it,¡± I said quietly, averting my eyes. I knew what he was going to say, and while part of me wanted to hear those three words leave his lips, I wasn¡¯t ready.

    Erik¡¯s face fell and he swallowed thickly. I¡¯d hurt his feelings, wounded his pride. I felt horrible. But once he saw what I¡¯d just read, he¡¯d understand. At least, I hoped that he would.

    With trembling fingers, I slowly handed the incriminating report to Erik. He hastily flipped through the pages, skimming the contents as he went. His body went rigid, his fingers tearing holes in the paper when he came to the same realization that I had.

    ¡°I can¡¯t believe this. Do you think that it might be a mistake?¡± he asked in a low, threatening voice. I was reminded of how deadly he could be when provoked.

    ¡°Maybe, but it¡¯s more than a little suspect, don¡¯t you think?¡±

    Erik didn¡¯t answer. Instead, he grabbed my hand and started dragging me toward the elevator. His fingers gripped mine hard enough to turn them purple. Waves of fury rolled off of him, and the air around his body seemed to vibrate. If I hadn¡¯t been so numb, I might¡¯ve tried to calm him. As it was, that task would be impossible. The shock over my find was quickly turning to rage.

    At the hover hangar, Erik barked orders at the attendant, and in record time we were taxiing along the short runway. Erik¡¯s hands gripped the wheel until his knuckles turned white and blue veins bulged against the backs. When I touched his arm, I could practically taste his desire for blood.

    Neither of us spoke on the ride. As angry as I was, I actually had more pressing issues to worry about. It was now midafternoon and I had yet to take my medication. The trembling in my hands had spread to my arms and legs, and I wasn¡¯t sure how much longer I could fend off a seizure. A cold sweat was starting around my hairline, and soon my entire body would be damp and sticky. We¡¯d left Erik¡¯s room in such a hurry, I hadn¡¯t even thought to grab the bag with my shot.

    As if noticing how bad my condition had become, Erik¡¯s head snapped to face me. The fire in his eyes dimmed before giving way to panic. He took one of my clammy hands and squeezed it reassuringly.

    ¡°We¡¯re almost there,¡± he promised.

    ¡°I know.¡±

    Erik shot me one more scared look and stomped on the accelerator. ¡°I will kill that traitorous bitch,¡± he mumbled under his breath.

 Chapter Seventy-Seven: The One with the Showdown

    ¡°Go find Mac and tell him to meet me down there,¡± I ordered Erik as soon as we landed.

    ¡°What? No, I¡¯m going with you,¡± he replied.

    ¡°I¡¯m not arguing about this. Please just trust me, and go.¡±

    The anger and resentment had built to a crescendo on the ride, and it was invigorating my senses. I put the full force of my Talents behind my words, leaving Erik unable to protest.

    ¡°Be careful,¡± he cautioned. He leaned down and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek before sprinting to the administrative building.

    Once I was certain that he wouldn¡¯t veer off course, I set out for the Crypto Bank. I knew that Erik was indignant on my behalf. He felt my pain and fear, and had experienced one of my seizures first-hand. He¡¯d been inside my head and knew what I went through with every episode. As angry as I was, I had so many questions; if Erik got there first, he wouldn¡¯t afford her the opportunity to answer.

    I jogged across campus, and every thump of my sole against the soft grass amplified the rage building inside of me. My hands shook when I grabbed the door to the Crypto facility, but now the tremors were driven by anger, not my illness. I covered the length of the long hallway that led to the main Crypto Bank in record time. The doors slid forcibly apart with a loud, echoing bang as I neared.

    ¡°Talia!¡± Penny exclaimed in surprise when I burst through the opening.

    Gemma¡¯s bushy head snapped around to catch sight of me.

    ¡°Get out,¡± I barked at her. At first, she was too shocked by my violent entrance to move. ¡°I said get out!¡± I screamed. Tripping over her feet as though they were too big, Gemma finally clambered from her computer chair. She shot me one last terrified glance over her shoulder before exiting.

    ¡°Talia, what¡¯s going on?¡± Penny asked in a low, even voice. It was the same voice that I used when I was trying to take control of someone; the same voice that Erik had used with the Crypto boy earlier that day. The voice she¡¯d probably used on me a hundred times before.

    Erik wasn¡¯t the only person who¡¯d convinced me to divulge things. He wasn¡¯t the only one who¡¯d always seemed to know what I was thinking and feeling. I recalled all of the conversations where I¡¯d been so intent on keeping my thoughts bottled up inside, only to find the words tumbling from my mouth, and I hated her more.

    I¡¯d wanted to tell Penny everything and had felt so comfortable around her. She¡¯d made me feel safe and happy when no one else could. Being around her had given me the same comfortable peace that Erik gave me. Now I knew why.

    How could I have been so stupid? How could I have trusted her? Every time I¡¯d even thought about reading her mind, I¡¯d instantly dismissed the idea¡ªit was too intrusive, and she was supposed to be my friend. Why hadn¡¯t I ever wondered why she was the only person who never projected even a single thought in my direction? No one was that good at blocking me.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you dare!¡± I shrieked at my supposed best friend. ¡°Don¡¯t you dare use my abilities against me!¡±

    Penny shrank back, wilting like a flower in mid-summer heat. Understanding sparked in her bright eyes.

    ¡°How could you?¡± I hissed.

    ¡°Tal, please,¡± she begged. ¡°You don¡¯t understand. You weren¡¯t supposed to get hurt. It wasn¡¯t supposed to happen that way, I swear. Just calm down and let me explain.¡±

    Tears illuminated her lime-colored eyes and began falling down her deathly pale face, landing in fat splotches on the tiled floor. If it had been anyone else, I would¡¯ve attacked right then. But she wasn¡¯t just anyone; Penny was my best friend, my confidante. She is also a traitor, I had to remind myself. She was the reason that I was sick. She was the reason that I¡¯d nearly died at the hands of my parents¡¯ killer.

    Pain and rage swirled inside of me, and I flashed to a similar scene between myself and Donavon¡ªwindows shattering, shards of glass flying. Then Mac¡¯s words played in my head: Sometimes, the people closest to us are the best at deceiving us. You of all people should know that.

    ¡°Tal, let me explain. You have to let me explain,¡± Penny wailed.

    The glass breaking wasn¡¯t only in my memory. The wall next to us exploded, bits of hard plastic spewing across the room. Computer monitors splintered, and electrical fires sparked from the screens. Penny covered her head, screaming.

    ¡°Explain what?¡± I spat. ¡°How you sold me out to Ian Crane? How you set me up to be tortured and killed? How you betrayed the person who was supposed to be your best friend?¡±

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    ¡°No, no,¡± she sobbed. ¡°He wasn¡¯t going to kill you. He just wanted to talk to you. He wanted you to understand what TOXIC is really about¡ªwhat they do to people, what they¡¯ve done to you.¡±

    Her words seemed to hurtle through the air and assault my ears. They were similar to the ones that Crane himself had spoken in Nevada¡ªwords that sliced through skin and bone to hit a nerve. As my fury dimmed, spasms shot through my arms and legs, nearly crippling me. I briefly entertained the notion that I¡¯d been struck by one of the sparks from the monitors. Then I realized that it was a seizure. No, no, no, I thought. I need to stay conscious. I grasped for my fury from just moments before. It was the only thing holding me together. It wasn¡¯t hard to catch. The mental and physical anguish that I¡¯d experienced over the past couple of months were fresh in my mind.

    My temper flared as Penny¡¯s tears continued to fall. They were like gasoline fueling the fire until it blazed like an inferno.

    I bared my teeth. The sharp points of my canines pricked my lower lip, and I tasted blood. I wanted Penny¡¯s blood. I wanted her to hurt to pay for all that she¡¯d cost me. My fingers curled into claws, the nail beds seeming to elongate. The transformation sent a trickle of fear through me, but the brief flare of panic was quickly doused by my escalating rage.

    Alarm bells screeched overhead, and I knew that Erik and Mac would be here shortly.

    ¡°TOXIC gives special children a place to feel normal,¡± I hissed, making my way forward. My voice came out in a growl that was unrecognizable to me. It sounded primal, ferocious.

    ¡°No, they don¡¯t,¡± Penny moaned as I closed in on her. ¡°And I think that deep down, you know that.¡±

    ¡°What I know is that you are a traitor. You cheated on your placement exams. You befriended me. You made sure that the intel about Crane¡¯s visit to Nevada would be intercepted. You knew that Mac would send me there for my solo mission because of my past with Crane. You knew that he¡¯d need a Manipulator to get onto the compound. Then, under the pretense of being my friend, you helped me gather intel so that you would know exactly what I was planning to do once I got there. Crane knew who I was that night in the pub because you told him what I looked like. You told him that I¡¯d be there.¡± I stopped my rant when I felt a tug on my psyche. ¡°Stay out of my head!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m n-n-not in your head,¡± Penny stammered. ¡°Please, listen to me. You need to get away from here. You need to find Ian. You aren¡¯t safe. He did know who you were that night in the pub, but not because I told him.¡±

    ¡°Tals, are you okay? We¡¯re coming.¡± It was Erik forcing his way into my head. He was somewhere close by. I could feel him.

    Heavy footsteps thundered overhead, cutting through the wailing alarm as they trampled down the corridor to the destroyed room. Penny and I now stood inches apart. I was close enough to hit her, but I didn¡¯t. I couldn¡¯t.

    Penny didn¡¯t take her focus off me. I wasn¡¯t sure if it was because she couldn¡¯t hear the approaching men over the alarm, or because she just didn¡¯t care.

    ¡°What did Crane inject me with?¡± I hissed.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± she cried, reaching tentatively for me. I snatched my arm away from her grasping fingers. Now that we were so close, I didn¡¯t want to touch her. I didn¡¯t even want to be in the same room with her anymore. I might have left then¡ªErik and Mac were nearly there¡ªbut I needed to know one more thing.

    ¡°How does he know my father?¡± I didn¡¯t mean to phrase it that way; I¡¯d meant to ask her if he knew my father. But sometime between Nevada and now, I¡¯d come to believe that he did. The only question left was how.

    Penny glanced nervously toward the open door. She could hear the men coming for her. She was scared, but not for herself. Her concern was for me.

    ¡°Talia, listen to me. Look inside of yourself, all of the answers are there. You just need to be willing to accept the truth.¡±

    I didn¡¯t get a chance to ask her what that meant. A team of Operatives, led by Mac and Erik, stormed into the ruins. Mac and another man seized Penny, forcing her to the floor. Erik pulled me out of the way.

    ¡°You can¡¯t trust him. You can¡¯t trust any of these people,¡± she screamed in my head. ¡°Please just listen to me. Find Ian. I promise, I¡¯ve always been your friend even before we met in Hunters Village.¡±

    I shook my head, trying to clear Penny¡¯s voice as it forced its way in. All of her mental barricades were down, and the rush of thoughts and images was suffocating. It suddenly became hard to breathe, like her memories were physically crushing my lungs. The weight of her mind caused my knees to buckle, and I fell to the ground. Broken glass tore through my jeans and ripped my flesh. The pain brought the room back into focus, but I couldn¡¯t hold on to it.

    Erik¡¯s arms encircled me from behind, cradling me to his chest. The room no longer existed. All I saw were Penny¡¯s memories dancing like clouds through my head.

    ¡°Force her out,¡± Erik whispered in my ear.

    The sound of his voice helped me summon the strength to do just that. I pushed against her mind until the weight of her consciousness lifted, the effort causing me to collapse into Erik¡¯s arms. A low keening started in my throat and built to a blood-curdling scream that tore my vocal chords as I processed what I¡¯d just seen. Erik tried to calm me, but I was past the point of reason.

    Mac and his men were dragging a struggling Penny to her feet. Every Operative not actively trying to contain her had his weapon trained on Penny. Her hair was quickly turning dark red from a wound on her scalp. Her cheek was already swelling from where one of the men had slammed her into the floor. When she opened her mouth to speak, Mac¡¯s elbow connected with her temple.

    I watched, horrified as she slumped against one of the men holding her. I wanted to cry out, tell them to stop. But I couldn¡¯t. What had I expected to happen when I sent Erik for Mac? Had I thought that he would politely ask her to accompany him to interrogation? If he wasn¡¯t so concerned about me, Erik¡¯s hands would be around her throat, choking the life from her.

    ¡°Everything is okay now,¡± Erik soothed, running a hand over my hair. He was still attempting to calm me, but his words had no effect. They weren¡¯t true. Everything was not okay. Everything would never be okay.

    The horrible sound coming from my mouth died off as the Operatives carried a now-unconscious Penny up the hallway. I watched their retreat until my vision blurred and the angry black dots connected. Then I passed out.

 Chapter Seventy-Eight: The One Where She Wakes Up in Medical... Again

    Calloused fingers tickled my arm. The sensation was pleasant, and I didn¡¯t want it to stop. I felt a slight tug on my head while someone played with my curls. I smiled. Erik must be impatient, waiting for me to wake up so that we could go have breakfast. I turned into him, reaching for his warm body. A sharp stinging sensation shot up my arm when the back of my hand made contact with cold metal. My eyes shot open, and clear blue irises fluttered into focus. Not Erik. Donavon. Antiseptic filled my nostrils, but when I tried to wrinkle my nose, I found that I couldn¡¯t. Something was in it. Frantically, I clawed at the plastic tubing.

    ¡°Easy, Talia,¡± Donavon whispered.

    ¡°Am I in Medical?¡± I asked drowsily.

    ¡°You are. You have been for a couple of days now,¡± he answered, still stroking my arm.

    ¡°A couple of days? Why does this keep happening?¡± I moaned.

    Donavon chuckled softly. ¡°Dr. Thistler said that the overload of emotions, coupled with the fact you hadn¡¯t taken your medicine, sent you over the edge.¡±

    ¡°Overload of emotions? But we just kissed,¡± I said, confused. I thought back to the night on the ledge. Erik was right; he did overstimulate me. I smiled at the thought. Erik was going to have to learn patience. Where was Erik? I frowned. If he was the reason that I was now in a hospital bed, hooked up to an IV and a breathing machine, the least he could do was sit by my sickbed. A serious talk about his priorities was in our future.

    ¡°Kissed?¡± Donavon asked, looking confused now.

    ¡°Where¡¯s Erik?¡± I demanded.

    Hurt clouded Donavon¡¯s clear eyes. His jaw hardened and his lips pursed into a thin, angry line at the mention of the boy who he considered his rival.

    ¡°We¡¯re on lockdown. Dad sent him back to Headquarters until further notice.¡±

    Wasn¡¯t I at Headquarters? Then I remembered Donavon saying something about Dr. Thistler; if she was treating me, then I was probably at School.

    ¡°What is the last thing you remember?¡± Donavon asked, speaking slowly, enunciating every word.

    I had to think. I remembered being in Erik¡¯s room at Headquarters. We were lying in his bed, kissing. There was paper everywhere. Then I remember standing in the doorway to his room. He was about to tell me that he loved me, but I¡¯d stopped him. Why had I stopped him? What could¡¯ve been more important than hearing those words come from Erik¡¯s lips? Penny. . . .

    ¡°Oh, my God,¡± I gasped, trying to sit up. The machine next to my bed emitted a long, alarming screech. The beeps on the heart monitor stopped being individually distinguishable. Every excruciating detail came rushing back.

    ¡°No, no,¡± I moaned, the all-too-familiar tears stinging the backs of my eyes.

    ¡°Shhh. Just relax. She¡¯s where she belongs,¡± Donavon said, wiping at the tears with his rough fingers.

    ¡°How could she be a spy?¡± I wailed.

    Donavon didn¡¯t get the opportunity to answer as Medics rushed into the room, responding to my out-of-control vitals. The first one through the door shoved Donavon aside. The Medic reached for my IV and plunged a syringe full of yellowish liquid into the port. The medicine quickly reached my bloodstream, and my flailing limbs stilled, now heavy with the chemicals. Suddenly, moving required too much effort. I sought out Donavon, now standing against the far wall. He smiled and nodded reassuringly.

    Once my vitals returned to acceptable levels, the Medics retreated just as quickly as they¡¯d come. Donavon moved back to my side.

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you try to sleep?¡± he suggested gently.

    I shook my head vehemently, fighting the drowsiness. ¡°I don¡¯t want to. No more sleep,¡± I slurred. It was a losing battle.

    ¡°It¡¯s better this way,¡± Donavon whispered, stroking my cheek.

    Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the two scars on his palm. ¡°Sorry I bit you,¡± I mumbled.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay, I deserved it,¡± came his quiet reply.

    Then I lost consciousness again.

    I spent another week in Medical. Most of my time there was spent in a drug-induced slumber, under Mac¡¯s orders; he thought it best that I recover my strength without unnecessary distractions. He didn¡¯t allow me many visitors, and I felt like I was back in my bedroom at his house, cut off from the outside world.

    Donavon came every day. By unspoken agreement, we didn¡¯t discuss our fight further and put our mutual, lingering animosity aside. He sat with me while I slept. Even though I was barely conscious, I always felt his presence, and I actually welcomed it. In one of my more lucid moments, he told me that he¡¯d talked to Erik and let him know that I was okay. He passed on Erik¡¯s sentiments of concern, despite the fact it obviously pained him to do so. I regretted that I¡¯d been too chicken to just tell Donavon the truth from the beginning that we would never get back together. I wanted to call Erik myself, but Mac wouldn¡¯t approve it. He said that once that I was feeling better he¡¯d reconsider.

    Mac came every day, too. He congratulated me on uncovering the spy. He informed me that TOXIC had launched a full-scale investigation to determine how deeply the Coalition had penetrated. So far, Penny hadn¡¯t cracked under psychic interrogation, but he assured me that it was just a matter of time. Mac had the good grace to refrain from suggesting that I question her myself, and I was glad. The thought of being in the same room with her caused my blood to boil and my heart monitor to spike.

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    Gretchen came to visit several times as well. She didn¡¯t say much. Mostly she just sat with me, but I appreciated her company when I registered it. She was the least stressful visitor that I could¡¯ve asked for. When we did talk, she never mentioned Penny. Instead, she teased me about my relationship with Erik. If it had been anyone else, I probably would have thought she was being nosey, but I knew that she was just trying to improve my mood. She¡¯d always hoped that I would marry her son, but really, she just wanted me to be happy.

    Dr. Wythe made a couple of very unwelcome visits. He asked probing questions that I didn¡¯t feel like answering. I usually fell asleep midway through our sessions, and when I woke, he was gone. I wouldn¡¯t be able to avoid him forever, but the drugs at least helped to prolong the inevitable.

    Donavon snuck Kenly in towards the end of my stay in Medical. She rambled on about all the training she¡¯d been doing in my absence, and assured me that Donavon was a suitable substitute until I was back on my feet. Despite the progress that Donavon insisted she was making, I knew in my heart she would never be ready in time. Her crowning achievement¡ªpreventing me from breaking my leg¡ªhadn¡¯t been hers at all. I now knew that it had been Penny who kept me from falling. I enjoyed Kenly¡¯s visit, but she reminded me too much of my ex-best friend; I asked Donavon not to bring her again.

    When the trifecta of Mac, Dr. Thistler, and Dr. Wythe were finally convinced that I could function without the help of drugs or machines, they agreed to let me move back to Mac¡¯s house. It wasn¡¯t my first choice, but it was certainly better than the hospital. Dr. Thistler insisted that I be under constant supervision, so returning to Instructor housing was out. In the aftermath of what happened with Penny, I was still in no condition to go before the Placement Committee, so returning to the Hunters was not in my immediate future either.

    As soon as I was settled in my old bedroom, I begged Mac to let me call Erik; I needed to hear his voice. I wanted to tell him about the accusations that Penny made before he and Mac had barged in¡ªthe accusations that nearly mirrored Crane¡¯s. But I knew that I couldn¡¯t. All of my communications were being monitored and recorded, and I had no intention of making the statements part of the official report. If I¡¯d thought that Mac had me on a short leash before, now I would be nearly tethered to his side.

    Surprisingly, Mac agreed to grant me phone privileges, on the condition that I use his communicator. I didn¡¯t see the point, but my own had been confiscated¡ªostensibly to review all the messages that I¡¯d ever exchanged with Penny. Mac assured me that it wasn¡¯t because I was under any kind of suspicion; it was, after all, protocol.

    ¡°Hello? Tal?¡± Erik¡¯s relieved voice came through the communicator.

    Tears welled up in my eyes when his tiny holographic image appeared. I couldn¡¯t speak. I didn¡¯t even know what to say.

    ¡°How are you feeling? The Director won¡¯t let me come see you. We¡¯re on lockdown here until after the sentencing. They even recalled all the Hunters out on missions.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m okay,¡± I sniffed. ¡°I wish you were here.¡±

    The words that Penny had spoken before the cavalry arrived were still ingrained in my mind, but the images she¡¯d projected were fading. They were becoming dim watercolors of the originals, and I wanted to tell Erik about them before they were completely erased from my memory. Somehow, it was just like the way that I couldn¡¯t clearly recall what had happened after the bullet struck me in Nevada.

    ¡°I know, Tal,¡± he soothed. ¡°I wish I was there, too. I wish that I could hold you.¡±

    ¡°I wish that you could do more than hold me,¡± I said.

    ¡°Why, Talia Lyons, are you trying to have phone sex with me? And on the Director¡¯s communicator, no less. You should be ashamed of yourself,¡± he teased. ¡°Some Brain is going to appreciate an earful of very graphic details, if that¡¯s the case.¡±

    I gave a thin laugh. Only Erik would say something so ridiculous right then.

    ¡°That¡¯s not what I meant, and you know it,¡± I chastised. ¡°I wish that you could take the pain away.¡± Right now, I didn¡¯t care how weak needing him made me. I liked the numb detachment that the drugs provided me, and I knew that Erik could give me the same feeling without the side effects.

    ¡°If I was there with you in that big bed, there wouldn¡¯t be any pain. Just never-ending pleasure,¡± he said suggestively.

    ¡°How did you know that I was in a big bed?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve got a good imagination. Want to know what you¡¯re wearing?¡±

    I laughed again. I was pretty sure that whatever Erik¡¯s overactive libido pictured me wearing would give the listening ears way too much good gossip for the rumor mill.

    ¡°Thanks, Erik,¡± I said softly.

    ¡°For what? Making you blush?¡±

    ¡°No. For being you.¡± Though I was indeed blushing.

    ¡°As soon as the sentencing is over, I¡¯ll be there. The Captain and Henri have agreed to grant me some leave to stay with you. Even the Director said that it would be okay,¡± he promised.

    I was shocked. Mac had agreed to that? He must figure that the best way to keep an eye on us would be if we were under his own roof. I almost couldn¡¯t say that I blamed him after the way our earlier conversation had gone.

    ¡°What do you think will happen at the trial?¡± I asked, abruptly taking the conversation in a sharp turn toward serious.

    Erik didn¡¯t answer right away. I could tell that he was measuring his words carefully, trying to find the best way to tell me what I already knew.

    ¡°Well, um . . .¡± he cleared his throat loudly. ¡°There probably won¡¯t be a trial. People accused of treason don¡¯t usually get trials. And they¡¯ll have at least some of the security footage from the . . . confrontation. They know that she basically admitted to being a spy.¡±

    ¡°I see. Will I have to go?¡± I really didn¡¯t want to be there.

    ¡°Probably. She¡¯ll also be charged with conspiracy to commit murder.¡±

    Oh, right, my murder.

    ¡°I¡¯ve already asked for permission to go to the sentencing with you. Henri doesn¡¯t think that the Director will grant it, but I¡¯m trying.¡±

    ¡°Thanks,¡± I said, tears filling my eyes again. Dr. Thistler had ordered extra doses of my medication to dull the out-of-control rage that I¡¯d been experiencing, but it actually left me more emotional than ever. I kept crying for no reason. At least that¡¯s what the doctors and Mac told me. Secretly, I thought that without my anger, I was left with only the wounded feelings of betrayal and the loss of someone that I¡¯d considered my best friend.

    Neither of us spoke for several long moments, but I didn¡¯t want to get off the phone with him yet. Just hearing his voice made me feel so much better.

    ¡°So . . . about that phone sex. I¡¯m thinking that you¡¯re wearing something see-through. Purple, of course. Lacy, definitely lacy,¡± he said thoughtfully.

    I choked on the mixture of my laughter and tears.

    ¡°I love you, Erik,¡± I whispered. ¡°You don¡¯t have to say it, too,¡± I hurried on, not giving him the chance to reply. ¡°I know you were about to before, but I just wanted to tell you now, like this. I wanted you to know that it¡¯s for real, and not because of anything that either one of us makes the other one say or do.¡±

    ¡°I love you, Natalia,¡± he said in a confident tone. Then he laughed softly. ¡°Man, I¡¯ve never said that before. To anyone. Feels kinda weird. Weird in a good way,¡± he assured me.

    ¡°I¡¯ll see you soon,¡± I said tiredly. I wasn¡¯t ready to say goodbye, but my eyes were starting to close.

    ¡°Call me whenever the Director lets you. I¡¯m doing everything that I can to be there . . . at the sentencing. Either way, I¡¯ll be there before you know it.¡±

    ¡°Okay. I¡¯ll do everything I can to convince Gretchen that I need something purple, see-through, and lacy,¡± I said.

    ¡°Don¡¯t make promises that you can¡¯t keep,¡± he playfully warned.

    ¡°I never do,¡± I mumbled, my exhausted body sinking deeper into the soft inviting mattress. After a week in the hospital, my old bed felt like heaven.

    ¡°Bye, Tals. I love you.¡±

    ¡°I love you, too.¡±

 Chapter Seventy-Nine: The One with the Traitors Fate

    Mac let me sleep late the next day before impatiently barging into my bedroom without knocking, Janet in tow.

    ¡°Morning, Mac,¡± I greeted him sluggishly. I was still exhausted, and so not ready for his company. ¡°Hey, Janet,¡± I greeted her more warmly.

    ¡°It¡¯s afternoon, Natalia. And I need you to give an official statement now. We really cannot put this off any longer. The sentencing is in a couple of days, and the Judge will need it. It¡¯s protocol,¡± Mac insisted. I hated protocol.

    ¡°And you didn¡¯t think that bribing me with breakfast might get me to talk faster?¡± I said sarcastically.

    ¡°I shouldn¡¯t have to bribe you. It is your duty as a TOXIC Operative to give a report when you are involved in an incident. Under the circumstances, I have let it go for longer than normal, but it cannot wait any longer.¡± Mac was definitely short on patience this morning, and I didn¡¯t blame him. The whole ordeal had been a nightmare for both of us. He¡¯d been making daily visits to Tramblewood to question Penny, but always made sure to return at a decent hour so that he could see me while I was awake. I was sure that he wanted the incident behind him almost as much as I did.

    ¡°Fine. Where do you want me to start?¡± I replied shortly.

    ¡°At the beginning, please. Mr. Kelley was interrogated before he flew back to Headquarters, but I would like to hear your version of how you breached protocol and forced a Crypto to access classified information instead of asking me.¡± Mac¡¯s tone was pure disapproval.

    ¡°Erik¡¯s not in trouble, is he?¡± I demanded. I felt horrible; if he were, it would be my fault. Sanctions usually accompanied breaches of protocol. Crap, I really hated protocol.

    ¡°No. Under the circumstances, I have excused Mr. Kelley¡¯s behavior. He¡¯s promised to exercise better judgment in the future.¡±

    ¡°Thanks, Mac,¡± I sighed. ¡°I really appreciate it.¡±

    ¡°You can thank me by abiding by the rules set in place.¡± Mac rolled his eyes in a rare show of normalcy. He never did something so human. The gesture told me that he knew the chances of getting me to follow TOXIC protocol in the future were slim. While I hated that people begrudged me his special treatment, I rarely let that stop me from taking advantage of it.

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you start with how you discovered that Ms. Latimore may have cheated on her Placement Exams?¡± Janet suggested gently, getting us back on track.

    So, I started at the beginning. Mac already had the tapes of my interrogation sessions with Cal and Jennifer, so I only reiterated the finer points. I glossed over what I¡¯d learned from Grace and Rider. I explained how after questioning the four other Cryptos, I¡¯d become convinced that Penny also must have known that there was something wrong with the encryption; I just hadn¡¯t been able to figure out why she didn¡¯t tell me.

    All of the others had given assorted reasons for the omission, but none were applicable to Penny, particularly since it was my mission. I considered that maybe she hadn¡¯t really known, but I didn¡¯t see how that could be true . . . unless she wasn¡¯t an Elite-level Higher Reasoning Talent.

    I recounted Erik¡¯s explanation of how the Placement Exams essentially worked. I told Mac and Janet that I hadn¡¯t realized that the Manipulator on my panel was actually a Mimic. I recounted how I hadn¡¯t known what Erik¡¯s Talent was because I¡¯d never met someone like him, or at least I thought I hadn¡¯t.

    Mac actually smiled at that. He¡¯d hand selected Erik for my trials as a true test of my fighting abilities since he had known that I wouldn¡¯t be able to control him the way that I had the others. At the time, I¡¯d thought it was a dirty trick, but now I was glad that he had; it was my fight against Erik that had guaranteed my spot with the Hunters. Plus without it, I might never have met Erik.

    Next, I explained how, if I¡¯d been unaware that Erik and the panel member were Mimics, it might be possible that I had encountered others as well. At that point, I still hadn¡¯t made the leap to Penny being one, but I was suspicious enough to want a look at her Placement Exam results. I wanted to look at the others¡¯ records, too, just in case.

    Initially, I¡¯d thought that I was wrong when I looked at Penny¡¯s results; everything seemed on the level. Both her written exam and her physical demonstration indicated that she was exactly what she purported to be¡ªan Elite-level Higher Reasoning Talent. Despite that, the whole Mimic thing still nagged at me. I went back further and reviewed all the suspects¡¯ intake evaluations. That was where I finally found the missing piece.

    When TOXIC first found Penny, she was at Mrs. Gubbard¡¯s Home for Orphaned Children, and she wasn¡¯t the only Talented child there. Two other kids were collected at the same time¡ªan eight-year old Light Manipulator boy, and a ten-year old Higher Reasoning girl. The Operatives who had collected Penny wrote down on her intake form that she was a Light Manipulator, but once Penny arrived at school and was formally tested, she was declared a Higher Reasoning Talent. At first, I dismissed the original evaluation as a clerical error. Then I remembered when we¡¯d been in the city for Festivis someone had made Ursula¡¯s chair disappear. I¡¯d thought that it was Cadence, but that didn¡¯t really make sense since she was the only one there besides Erik who was really friends with the girl. I¡¯d dismissed it, thinking that maybe Cadence had a devious side, but the fact that Penny had originally been classified as a Light Manipulator made me wonder if it hadn¡¯t been her. I didn¡¯t understand how Penny could be a Light Manipulator . . . unless she were a dual Talent. That theory didn¡¯t feel right either, though, because there was no reason for her to hide being a dual Talent.

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    I explained that Erik¡¯s imitation of my abilities and the whole Light Manipulator mistake on Penny¡¯s intake form made me review all of the interactions I¡¯d had with her since we¡¯d met. I described how I always felt safe around her and had told her things that I wouldn¡¯t otherwise talk about; how I¡¯d never read her mind because every time I considered doing so something stopped me; how Erik told me that he had used my Talents on me and I didn¡¯t know it. I thought maybe that was what Penny had been doing to keep me from reading her mind. And if that were the case, it left only one option: Penny was a Mimic.

    I shifted my position in the bed and took a deep breath before launching into an abridged version of how Erik frequently mimics my gifts and uses them on me. Mac and Janet exchanged knowing glances.

    ¡°He doesn¡¯t do it to get me to talk about, like . . . confidential things,¡± I said defensively. The last thing I wanted was for Erik to come under investigation.

    ¡°I think we all know exactly what Mr. Kelley uses your manipulation for,¡± Mac assured me dryly. Janet gave me a sympathetic smile.

    ¡°Right,¡± I stammered as heat rushed my cheeks.

    The way he said it left me no doubt that he¡¯d been privy to my personal conversation with Erik. I obviously knew that he would be; I just didn¡¯t think he¡¯d be so bold as to mention it. I should¡¯ve known better.

    I hurriedly started recounting how I¡¯d realized that the chair incident at Festivis wasn¡¯t the only time that Penny had mimicked someone else¡¯s Talents in front of me. I told them about the water glass she¡¯d caught at Captain Alvarez¡¯s dinner, and how she¡¯d saved me from a broken leg when I¡¯d tripped over the baton. These incidents further solidified my belief that she was a Mimic.

    ¡°When I confronted her in the Crypto Bank, she admitted that she was the reason that Crane knew I was coming,¡± I finished.

    ¡°Did she say anything else?¡± Janet asked. ¡°We weren¡¯t able to salvage any of the security footage.¡±

    I looked guiltily at Mac. He¡¯d said that I wasn¡¯t in trouble for breaching protocol, but he hadn¡¯t mentioned the destruction of property . . . millions of dollars¡¯ worth of property.

    ¡°It¡¯s been taken care of,¡± he assured me, answering my unspoken question.

    I relaxed.

    ¡°No, Janet. She just kept saying that TOXIC was bad, that¡¯s all,¡± I lied easily.

    Mac looked unconvinced, but he didn¡¯t press the issue.

    ¡°I still don¡¯t understand exactly how the low-level encryption plays into everything,¡± I said. ¡°Did she plant it?¡±

    ¡°Not exactly. The intel did originate from the Coalition, but the encoding was purposely crude so we¡¯d be sure to decipher it. As far as I can glean, she arranged to have the communication sent when she would be working, so that her team would handle all of the intel for the mission. She knew that you still hadn¡¯t been assigned your solo Hunt and banked on my sending you because of your specific Talents,¡± Mac explained.

    ¡°But how did she know that the others wouldn¡¯t say anything about the encryption?¡±

    ¡°She could not have known for sure. I am assuming after spending so much time with Mr. Simmons, she knew how ambitious he was. Likewise she knew how weak Ms. Eisenhower was. As for the verification team, I can only assume that she got lucky. Of course, she was in classes with Ms. Howard, and as a Mimic, she might have realized how low level the girl¡¯s abilities really are.¡± Mac gave me a pointed look. Apparently he¡¯d figured that detail out on his own; so much for my promise to aid true love.

    ¡°There is nothing to indicate that she knew Ms. Howard and Mr. Trindel would be working that evening, but she may have. It would not have been hard to know ahead of time which Crypto units would be on duty at School. Honestly though, Natalia, I may have done a few things differently, but I still would¡¯ve sent you for him. The intel would have been scrutinized more closely and I would have sent an entire team, but TOXIC had not had an opportunity to go after Ian Crane like that in years. I would not have let the opportunity pass.¡±

    ¡°I see,¡± I said. ¡°What¡¯s going to happen to her?¡±

    Erik had already told me, but Mac¡¯s confirmation would make it real.

    ¡°She will be executed,¡± Mac said bluntly.

    Apparently, he didn¡¯t share Erik¡¯s affinity for sparing my feelings. Then again, Mac probably didn¡¯t think that I should care about her impending demise; he probably thought that I should be advocating performing the deed myself.

    ¡°Right, of course. I figured,¡± I replied quietly. I bit my lip to keep the tears at bay. I didn¡¯t want them to see me cry for Penny. Neither of them would understand.

    ¡°You will need to be at the sentencing. Technically, you are her accuser, and it is protocol for the accuser to be present,¡± he continued.

    Man, I really, really hated protocol.

    ¡°What about Erik? Are you going to let him be there as well?¡± I asked, practically begging Mac to do so.

    Mac studied me for several long moments before answering. ¡°No, Natalia, I¡¯m not. You may see him once all this unpleasant business is behind us.¡±

    I nodded, the urge to cry becoming harder to suppress. How was I going to face her without him by my side?

    ¡°However, you may continue to speak with him on my communicator. And I do intend to grant his leave request so that he may come and stay here with you. There is one condition for that, though.¡± Mac paused, and I held my breath. I could usually handle conditions, and I¡¯d do just about anything he asked if it meant that I could see Erik.

    ¡°Sure. Anything.¡± I smiled tightly.

    ¡°While the Cryptos might appreciate hearing about your and Mr. Kelley¡¯s private affairs, I do not. In the future, it would be much appreciated if you kept your conversations less ...explicit.¡±

    The color returned to my face, the fire under my skin so intense that I thought spontaneous combustion a real possibility. Thankfully, Mac didn¡¯t wait for my reply. He turned and motioned to Janet, and they left me alone with my humiliation.

 Chapter Eighty: The One with the Judgment

    Erik and I spoke frequently in the ensuing days. We kept our conversation light and trivial, neither of us mentioning Penny, the sentencing, or the inevitable execution. Despite Mac¡¯s warning, Erik continued to make sexual innuendos in an attempt to keep me laughing. I longed for him. As much as I dreaded facing Penny in court, the day couldn¡¯t come soon enough; once it was done, I would finally see Erik.

    Donavon kept me company in my room most days. We talked and joked about people we had both come to know over the past few months at school. We mostly watched movies on my wall screen, but on my more adventurous days we walked around the campus grounds. He¡¯d taken over training Kenly since I had neither the energy nor the desire to finish what I¡¯d started. I observed their practice sessions, but usually grew tired midway through and returned to my room before they finished.

    My relationship with Donavon would never be like it had been before. I knew that whether I had Erik or not, I¡¯d never love Donavon that way again. He¡¯d hurt me so much when he cheated on me, but it was more than that. I still gravitated to him because he always comforted me and made me feel safe, without the complication of romantic feelings. I was close to getting past his indiscretion; after what Penny had done, Donavon¡¯s infidelity paled in comparison.

    We never talked about Erik. He didn¡¯t ask, and I didn¡¯t offer. I figured that he preferred not knowing any details. However, every night when I talked to Erik, I told him about the time I spent with Donavon. After all of the lying and deception in my life over the past two years, I needed to have someone who I could be completely honest with.

    Erik didn¡¯t try to hide his jealousy. He gently let me know exactly what he thought about my spending so much time with Donavon, but he never asked me to stop. He said that he understood why I couldn¡¯t write him out of my life completely. Erik might not like the friendship, but he tried to be the bigger person. Despite that, I had a sneaking suspicion that Erik wouldn¡¯t hesitate to flaunt our relationship in front of Donavon the first chance he got.

    Dr. Wythe came to see me every morning. Our sessions were as taxing and pointless as they¡¯d been the last time he¡¯d treated me. Sometimes I felt as though we were having a staring contest, each of not wanting to be the first to blink. Other times he practically interrogated me about what happened in the Crypto Bank. Even if I wanted to tell him the truth¡ªwhich I didn¡¯t¡ªthe memories had become like dreams, distorted and nonsensical. I could no longer recall the exact details.

    Early on the morning of Penny¡¯s sentencing, I was restless and agitated. Today was the day that I would stand beside Mac while Penny¡¯s charges were read in open court. The Judge would pretend to deliberate before delivering the punishment. Today my ex-best friend would be sentenced to death. Despite the fact that the sun had yet to rise, I called Erik.

    ¡°How ya holding up?¡± Erik¡¯s tiny holographic form asked.

    ¡°Not so good,¡± I admitted. It was the first time that we¡¯d talked about her since Mac had given me permission to call him.

    ¡°I wish that I could be there,¡± he said sleepily.

    I envisioned Erik clad only in pajama bottoms, snuggled under his plaid comforter, his hair disheveled and eyelids heavy from sleep. I could almost feel his arms around me. When I inhaled, I swore that I could smell the woodsy musk and pine soap that was Erik¡¯s scent.

    I sighed heavily. ¡°Soon. Only a couple more hours until this is all over,¡± I assured him.

    ¡°I know. Are you nervous about seeing her?¡±

    I was nervous, but I wasn¡¯t sure if I should admit that on the record, so to speak. I found myself second-guessing everything that I said and did these days.

    ¡°Eh, not nervous. Angry mostly,¡± I answered. Anger was a safe emotion. And I was angry¡ªa little sad and very confused, but mostly angry. I wouldn¡¯t need to fake any outrage or resentment in court. ¡°What are you going to do today?¡± I asked, changing the topic.

    ¡°Same thing I do every day. Sit around looking good,¡± he joked.

    I laughed. ¡°Good luck with that.¡±

    We bantered back and forth for another few minutes before I reluctantly disconnected. I needed to get dressed unless I wanted Mac banging on my door demanding to know why I wasn¡¯t ready.

    Perversely, sentencings were formal affairs. I would be expected to wear something decadent. I selected a long, black gown from the plethora of plastic-encased dresses that Gretchen had ordered for me over the years. The silk cascaded over my skin as I pulled it from the bag. The bodice had a lace overlay, square neckline, and capped sleeves. I laughed almost manically as I ran my fingers over the lace, recalling Erik¡¯s lingerie comment. The mounting anxiety over what was happening in a few short hours was making me crazy.

    I took my time straightening my hair, and I dabbed small amounts of neutral-colored shadow on my eyelids. After I was satisfied that the evidence of my sleepless night was hidden beneath the makeup, I decided that my hair should go up. First I tried sweeping it into a ponytail. Too casual, I decided. Next, I braided my long tresses down my back. But that wasn¡¯t right either. Frustrated, I wound the pieces of now-wavy hair into a severe bun at the base of my skull. Finally gratified, I glanced at the clock.

    Crap, ten minutes until departure. If I didn¡¯t hurry, Mac would come looking for me. I hastily stripped off my pajamas and zipped myself into the black dress. The material hung loosely on my too-thin frame. I stared at myself in the full-length mirror, and my stomach rolled in disgust. No matter how I felt about Penny and everything that she¡¯d cost me, there was something inherently wrong with wearing a formal gown to watch another human being be condemned to death. At least I am wearing black, I thought to myself. It was somber, like my mood.

    When I finally exited my bedroom and wound my way through the McDonoughs¡¯ house, I found Mac and, to my surprise, Donavon waiting for me in the foyer. Mac gave my outfit an approving once-over. Both father and son wore tailored black suits; Donavon had chosen a charcoal gray shirt and black tie to go with his, while Mac wore his customary white shirt and red tie.

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    ¡°Ready, Natalia?¡± Mac asked, his voice lacking any emotion.

    I nodded, unable to speak for fear of getting sick. Then I turned to Donavon and gave him a questioning look.

    ¡°Dad thought you might want a friend. I know you¡¯d prefer that it was Erik,¡± he sent.

    ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re coming,¡± I sent back. And I was glad. Donavon was no substitute for Erik, but at least I wouldn¡¯t be alone with his father. Mac wasn¡¯t exactly the touchy-feely type and provided little comfort; I expected that he would treat the entire event with the same cool indifference that he treated everything else unpleasant.

    I followed the two men through the front door and into the waiting road vehicle. Silently praying that no one would try to engage me in conversation, I clasped my hands in my lap. At the hover hangar, we boarded a luxury craft with TOXIC¡¯s logo emblazoned on the side. I quietly took a seat in one of the four cushy armchairs. A stewardess instantly appeared and asked if she could bring me a drink. I started to shake my head no, then decided that I actually did want a drink¡ªa strong one.

    ¡°Vodka,¡± I said.

    The stewardess nodded her bobbed auburn head. Mac arched his eyebrows in surprise.

    ¡°Really, Natalia? You aren¡¯t supposed to have alcohol, particularly not for breakfast,¡± he said mildly.

    ¡°Today, I think that I¡¯m entitled to it,¡± I said to Mac. Then, turning to the stewardess, I repeated, ¡°Vodka.¡±

    She glanced nervously between me and Mac. When the Director nodded his acquiescence, she finally left to fetch my drink. She returned moments later with my drink, and coffees for Mac and Donavon.

    The clear liquid burned my mouth and throat when I sucked hungrily through the small cocktail straw. The instant that the vodka hit my empty stomach, it grumbled a protest. I didn¡¯t care. The alcohol would dull my emotions, and just then that was all that mattered.

    During the half-hour ride to the city, I stared glumly out the window and continued to down drinks. I could feel Mac¡¯s disapproval, but it meant little to me. I hoped that if I drank enough on the flight I would be numb by the time we arrived. My plan worked. When we landed, my head was spinning from the three drinks that I¡¯d managed to consume, and my insides felt hollow.

    Mac held firmly to my upper arm, guiding me down the slippery metal steps and toward the waiting car. My mind buzzed and my legs wobbled from the combination of alcohol and anxiety. Mac helped me through the open door of a TOXIC road vehicle with darkly tinted windows. Donavon clambered in behind me. He reached for my hand, and I gave it willingly. He squeezed my fingers gently.

    ¡°Hang in there,¡± he sent.

    I didn¡¯t respond, just stared straight ahead.

    Three armed bodyguards climbed into the row of seats behind Donavon and me while a fourth took the driver¡¯s seat. Mac sat shotgun. The vehicle started moving through empty city streets. Numbly, I watched the passing Government buildings, wondering where all the people were.

    ¡°The city is under Martial Law today. Citizens aren¡¯t allowed to leave their homes,¡± Donavon answered my unspoken question.

    I nodded that I understood.

    Mac and the driver spoke in low tones, but I didn¡¯t pay attention. I didn¡¯t really care what they were talking about.

    The driver turned on Fifth Street and continued to a building with ¡°National Courthouse¡± engraved in a marble slab that hung atop magnificent marble columns. He brought the vehicle to a stop in front of the gleaming black steps. The bodyguards exited first. One held up a hand indicating that Donavon and I should wait. Their huge guns were drawn as they scanned the area surrounding the courthouse. I followed their line of sight and saw snipers perched on every building in view. I shuddered at the scene. Once the bodyguards were satisfied that there was no imminent threat, they motioned us out.

    One offered me his gloved hand and helped me out of the car. He stayed firmly at my side while we ascended the stairs. A second guard fell in step, flanking my other side. Neither looked at me; instead, their eyes darted warily in every direction.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on? Why are they so vigilant?¡± I sent Donavon. Even through my alcohol-muddled brain, I felt disquieted and a little scared by all the security.

    ¡°Dad¡¯s afraid that the Coalition will strike today. Depending on how high Penny was in their organization, they might come for her.¡±

    Great¡ªanother encounter with Ian Crane. I really wished that Mac had warned me.

    Once our group made it safely through the front doors, the bodyguards relaxed slightly. Our footsteps echoed through the white marble corridor. The sterility of the hallway made my apprehension spike. The building held no warmth, and it was almost as if you could feel that bad things had happened here.

    My right foot slipped, skidding briefly across the smooth floor, and I let out an involuntary yelp. The bodyguard on my right grabbed my arm to steady me. I smiled gratefully at him. His large, square jaw spread into a thin smile and he gave me a small nod. Focus, Talia, I ordered myself. Just another hour, and this will all be over.

    At the end of the corridor were double wooden doors with armed men on either side. They pulled the gold handles as we neared, and I caught my first glimpse of the courtroom beyond. As my bodyguards dropped back, Donavon hurried forward and took my hand. Together we followed his father through the entryway.

    A hundred or more faces turned in our direction when we entered. A black-robed woman sat elevated behind a beautiful, lacquered bench. Her eyes were cold, steely gray when they fixed on me. I swallowed thickly. One person sat on either side of her, their platforms slightly lower. The rows of benches in the gallery were already filled with high-ranking government officials dressed in opulent finery.

    TOXIC hadn¡¯t publicly convicted a traitor in years. And the current of excitement that ran through the room was demonstrative of how much the practice had been missed. The occupants were like eager spectators at a highly anticipated sporting event, their eyes gleaming with eagerness that no one tried to hide. The charged atmosphere sent a wave of disgust rolling over me. I hated how much pleasure they were getting from the pain of others.

    I stopped and met their gazes head-on, refusing to show how intimidated I was. In truth, the courtroom terrified me; now that I was here, I wanted nothing more than to leave. I didn¡¯t want to see Penny. I didn¡¯t want to hear the charges against her, didn¡¯t want to remember everything that she¡¯d put me through. The alcohol was wearing off; a potent cocktail of fear, trepidation, and rage was taking its place.

    Donavon tugged on my hand, urging me to walk forward. When I still didn¡¯t move, Mac placed his hand on the small of my back and forced me down the aisle. The only empty seats were in the first row. Every eye in the room followed my movements, and their thoughts buzzed angrily in my head. Most held looks of open curiosity. A few seemed to pity me. I blocked them all out, and took my seat between Mac and Donavon.

    The murmurs that had quieted when we entered started up again once we were seated. In a rare show of emotion, Mac wrapped his arm protectively around my shoulders. I gave him a weak smile, a gesture that he surprisingly returned. Donavon held tightly to my hand as much for my benefit as for his; he seemed no more eager than I was to watch the impending charade.

    The dull hum in the room swelled to a near roar, and I craned my neck to see what all the commotion was about. My heart skipped a beat when I saw her. Sorrow and rage warred for control of my emotions. Mac ¡°tsked¡± in disgust when he, too, caught sight of Penny.

    ¡°It will all be over soon,¡± Donavon sent.

    ¡°I know.¡±

 Chapter Eighty-One: The One with the Forced Memory

    I couldn¡¯t tear my gaze away from where she stood at the start of the aisle. She was flanked by four impossibly large guards. Their guns were all pointed at her as if she might make a run for it at any moment. Penny¡¯s flame-colored hair hung limp and dirty down the back of a bluish-gray jumpsuit. The material looked rough and uncomfortable, and swallowed her gangly frame. Both her wrists and ankles were shackled. I watched with a mixture of wide-eyed fascination and repulsion as she shuffled to the front of the courtroom.

    The gazes in the room were split between Penny and me. I kept my expression neutral; I knew that showing empathy for a traitor would be as good as signing my own death warrant. While I¡¯d been the one to discover her treachery, I¡¯d still been her best friend. If it weren¡¯t for Mac, I would have spent the days following her arrest in an interrogation room instead of the hospital. Not everyone believed that I¡¯d been na?ve enough to not know what she was the whole time.

    As she neared my row, I noticed that her lime-green eyes were hard, defiant. They held no trace of the weakness she¡¯d displayed in the Crypto Bank when she¡¯d begged me to understand. Despite everything, it warmed my heart to see her this way. I wanted to hate her lack of remorse. I wanted to begrudge her the self-assurance that she showed, particularly since I felt none. But I couldn¡¯t. I only felt sad for her, for me, and for everyone whose lives she had ruined.

    Penny¡¯s movements were slow and jerky, hindered by her restraints, yet she radiated a confidence and poise that I¡¯d never seen before. She paused when she reached my aisle. I boldly met her eyes, and I swear that she winked. I smiled in spite of myself. When she started shuffling again, I thought that I might have imagined the gesture because neither Donavon nor Mac seemed to have noticed.

    The guards led Penny to a glossy, wooden table in the center of the space that separated the gallery from the Judge¡¯s platform. They moved off to the sidelines but kept their weapons trained on her. One of the Judge¡¯s underlings cleared his throat and began to read from an electronic tablet.

    ¡°Penelope Latimore, you are accused of Spying for the Coalition, Treason against the United States of America, and Conspiracy to commit murder of TOXIC Operative Natalia Lyons.¡±

    I blanched when he read my name. No matter how angry I was, I hated being associated with her charges.

    The underling continued reading off the litany of evidence against her. When he read a transcription of my statement, Mac¡¯s arm was the only thing that kept me from slipping right over the edge of the bench. Donavon¡¯s pressure increased on my hand. I tried to return the gesture, but my fingers were numb. My face remained a mask of cool composure, even though internally I wept for the plight of a girl I¡¯d once called my best friend.

    When the underling finished, he turned his eager eyes to the Judge. The tension in the room was palpable, everyone waiting for her to speak . . . everyone except for me. I dreaded the words that were undoubtedly about to leave the Judge¡¯s pursed lips. My stomach twisted in knots, the vodka sloshing sickeningly around my intestines.

    After several long, breathless moments, she spoke, her voice low and raspy. ¡°Penelope Latimore, for your crimes, you are hereby sentenced to death by lethal injection.¡±

    Cheers erupted in the courtroom, rippling through the gallery like a tidal wave. The spectators wanted blood, and they¡¯d gotten it. My reaction was the exact opposite. I had to swallow a scream gathering in my throat. My body shook as I tried to contain the tears pushing painfully against the backs of my eyeballs. I yanked my hand free from Donavon¡¯s and wrapped my arms around my midsection. Desperately, I tried to keep my disgust and the vodka from coming out.

    ¡°Natalia, pull yourself together,¡± Mac hissed in my ear.

    I turned to face him, narrowing my eyes. ¡°Shut up, you unfeeling bastard,¡± I hissed back. ¡°She was my friend. My best friend.¡±

    Mac glared at me. ¡°She tried to have you killed. She is the reason that you will probably never be a Hunter. She is the reason that you have seizures,¡± he said coldly.

    I straightened my spine and met his challenge. He¡¯d expected his words to invoke anger, and they did¡ªat him. ¡°Don¡¯t act like you¡¯re blameless,¡± I matched his cold tone.

    Fear flickered across his harsh expression. It disappeared just as quickly as it had come. Mac schooled his features back to neutral. ¡°You are emotional, and I understand that. You have been through a lot in the past week. You don¡¯t know what you are saying,¡± he replied evenly.

    He was right; I didn¡¯t know what I was saying. I didn¡¯t really blame Mac for my seizures, or for anything else that had happened to me. I was upset and frustrated and angry and I needed someone to blame; after hearing the exuberant cheers of the exalted members of society, I couldn¡¯t bring myself to blame Penny.

    Instinctively, I knew that it was her fault. She was a traitor. She¡¯d admitted as much to me. Yet, a small part of me still couldn¡¯t believe that she¡¯d actually betrayed me. I wanted so much to trust that she was always my friend just like she¡¯d said.

    I tore my gaze away from Mac, unable to look at him any longer. Whether for show, or because he knew how much I was hurting, Mac tightened his grip on my shoulders. I didn¡¯t want to cause a scene, so I didn¡¯t pull away. Donavon¡ªwho¡¯d been quietly watching the exchange between me and his father¡ªreclaimed my hand.

    ¡°He¡¯s just stressed, Tal. You know how much trouble this mess has been for him,¡± he sent.

    ¡°What about me? You don¡¯t think I¡¯m stressed? Haven¡¯t I been through a lot? Don¡¯t I deserve a break?¡± I snapped back.

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    Donavon didn¡¯t answer.

    In the front of the room, the Judge rapped her gavel against the lacquered wood, effectively quieting the room.

    ¡°Ms. Latimore, do you have anything that you would like to say for yourself?¡± she asked Penny.

    I wasn¡¯t sure what I expected Penny to do. Beg for her life? Proclaim her innocence? Make some idealistic speech? She did none of those things.

    ¡°No,¡± she answered in a clear voice that rivaled Mac¡¯s for the iciness award.

    ¡°Very well. Guards, take her take to Tramblewood to await execution,¡± the Judge ordered.

    Penny stoically rose from her chair. She turned to face the crowd. The set in her jaw was hard. Her eyes were now devoid of emotion, completely unreadable.

    As she surveyed the room, her gaze landed on me. I didn¡¯t look away. A faint smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. Suddenly, I wanted to stand up and run to her, hug her. But even if Mac hadn¡¯t been holding me firmly in place, I don¡¯t think that I would have; I was too afraid.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m so sorry,¡± I sent her. It felt odd, I¡¯d never communicated mentally with Penny before.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be. It was worth it,¡± she replied.

    Worth it? What had she learned in her time with TOXIC that was worth her life? If the tables were turned and I was standing in front of a Coalition Judge who had just condemned me to die, I hoped that I¡¯d think it was worth it, too. I also hoped that I would appear just as strong and calm as Penny did.

    ¡°Maybe I didn¡¯t accomplish everything that I came here to do, but I at least achieved one thing,¡± she sent. ¡°You¡¯re doubting TOXIC¡ªdoubting what they stand for, what their mission really is.¡±

    I didn¡¯t know what to say. Was I doubting TOXIC? Sure, I didn¡¯t agree with some of their ideals¡ªthe Mandatory Testing laws had always bothered me¡ªbut they were necessary, right? And I didn¡¯t actually believe her accusations . . . did I?

    You have no idea what your Agency does to innocent people. If I didn¡¯t believe her or Crane, why couldn¡¯t I get his words out of my head?

    ¡°Tal, open your mind. Look into my head. Please,¡± she begged.

    The guards took up their positions surrounding her. Then, head held high, she began her death march.

    ¡°Tal, please,¡± she urged. ¡°There isn¡¯t enough time to explain everything, please look.¡±

    I didn¡¯t know what to do. I wanted to yell at the Guards to stop. I wanted to scream. I wanted to break something. My emotions were so out of control that I couldn¡¯t concentrate on any one of them. I tried to stand up, but the combined weight of Mac¡¯s arm around me and Donavon¡¯s grip on my hand made it impossible.

    The guards began dragging Penny down the aisle. I knew that it wasn¡¯t her reluctance to go to her death that made her struggle; she wanted to give me as much time as she could to absorb as many of her thoughts as possible.

    I lost myself in the images that poured from her consciousness to mine. I saw a place that I recognized through Penny¡¯s eyes. I couldn¡¯t place how I knew the small stone cottage, yet as soon as I saw it, I knew that I¡¯d been there. I knew that if I concentrated hard enough, I would be able to hear the distant roar of the ocean¡¯s waves beating against cliffs.

    The next image was through an inside window of the cottage. I watched through Penny¡¯s eyes as a tall man with silver hair waited in a gravel drive, his whole body rigid. Even from behind, he was unmistakable: Crane. He visibly relaxed when a road vehicle with tinted windows rolled up the drive. When the car stopped, he reached for the passenger door handle and pulled it open. A much shorter man emerged. Crane embraced him, clapping him affectionately on the back. When they broke apart, I got my first look at the other man¡¯s face. Pain rippled through me. I wanted to reach up to touch the glass pane, call to the man with Crane. His curly, nearly black hair was tousled. The olive skin of his face was marked with a smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose. My breath caught in my throat as tears again threatened my eyes. The short man¡¯s hazel gaze turned to the window. I wanted to bang on the glass, urge him to see me.

    ¡°Daddy!¡± I screamed. Warm, rough hands gently rubbed my arms. The sensation caught me off guard, and I broke the connection with Penny.

    I blinked back to reality. I was still rooted on the bench in the courtroom, whimpering while Donavon tried to soothe me. His were the hands that I¡¯d felt on my arms. I could tell that he wanted to hug me, hold me, but he was terrified.

    I looked back and forth between Donavon and Penny. I wanted to see more. I needed to go back into Penny¡¯s head. I needed to see my father again. Donavon seemed to be urging me to stay with him, here in the courtroom, but I couldn¡¯t. I wouldn¡¯t.

    Back in Penny¡¯s world, Crane and my father were no longer alone; a petite woman stood with them. Her chestnut hair was piled high on her head, and vibrant blue eyes sparkled like sapphires in the sunlight. I would¡¯ve cried out to her, except my attention was drawn to something in my father¡¯s arms¡ªor rather, someone.

    On my father¡¯s hip sat a small girl, no more than three or four. She had dark, curly hair wreathing her tiny head. Her face was buried in my father¡¯s shoulder. The child threw her head back in laughter as Crane tickled her chubby little belly. Then, as if reacting to a noise that only she heard, her head swiveled in Penny¡¯s direction. Her purple eyes seemed to pierce me when they caught sight of Penny. My body began to shake, and I reached out to steady myself. I gripped something soft and fleshy, like a hand. I didn¡¯t have time just then to ponder the conundrum; the only thing that mattered was the little girl.

    Curiosity danced across her beautiful irises. The corners of her cherubic mouth curled into a huge smile.

    ¡°Hello, my name¡¯s Natalia,¡± the little girl sent. ¡°What¡¯s yours?¡±

    That was the last straw. Hysterical screams ripped from my throat as my three-year-old self continued to smile at Penny and, by extension, me. My shrieks reverberated through the courtroom, echoing off of the vaulted ceiling. Disembodied hands ran through my hair and over my arms, feeling like insects crawling on my skin. Furiously I tried swatting the creatures away, but large fingers laced through mine, immobilizing my hands.

    ¡°Let go, Tal. Just let go,¡± a firm voice in my head commanded.

    I recognized the voice and knew that I should obey, but I was caught between my own reality and Penny¡¯s memory. Just like with Ernest, I was in so deep that our minds had woven together in an odd inter-dimensional quilt. The difference now, though, was that I didn¡¯t want to extract myself from this. I wanted to be standing in the cottage, watching my loving parents interact with their daughter. I dreaded coming back to the present time.

    My throat was raw, and the ache in my chest was painful. My head began to feel like it might explode. Black spots dotted my vision like inkblots, slowly bleeding together until my family and Crane were only visible through spider-web-thin slits.

    ¡°Please, Tal, come back to me,¡± the voice pleaded. The words increased the pounding in my head, and my desire to stay in Penny¡¯s world gave way to a silent prayer for the blackness to take over. Just when I thought that my mind would split in two, the connection broke. My muscles turned to jello, and I collapsed against something hard as I finally lost consciousness.

 Chapter Eighty-Two: Tramblewood Correctional Facility

    Tramblewood Correctional Facility.

    With what little strength remained in her thin arms, she struggled in vain against the restraints that bound her wrists to the uncomfortable metal chair. Her fingers and toes tingled from sitting in the same position for so long. It didn¡¯t take very long for her eyes to adjust, and she could make out the faint outline of the door. The grumbling in her empty stomach reminded her that her captors hadn¡¯t fed her in hours . . . or was it days? Time held little meaning for her anymore.

    Suddenly, the dank space was bathed in a harsh, blinding light. She squeezed her eyes shut against the painful shock to her retinas, barely managing to suppress a groan that threatened to escape her cracked lips.

    ¡°Ms. Latimore, good to see you again,¡± a cold voice greeted her. He paused briefly, drinking in her emaciated appearance, and she took the opportunity to open one eye just a slit and chance a glance at her visitor. ¡°Or should I say, Ms. Crane?¡± he continued, cocking his head to one side in a questioning gesture.

    The visitor was backlit, his features hidden in shadows, but she would¡¯ve known his voice anywhere. She also knew that his question was rhetorical. He was taunting her, hoping that if he let her know that he knew who she really was, she might be more inclined to engage in the banter that had been one-sided thus far.

    ¡°You are what, Ian¡¯s niece, I assume?¡± he continued, taking several steps inside the room. The armed men flanking either side of the visitor advanced as well. One of his bodyguards moved to stand within arm¡¯s reach of her chair. She scowled in his direction, but the guard¡¯s face remained impassive.

    ¡°Ian never had any children that I¡¯m aware of, so I know that you are not his daughter, and you are too young to be his wife. . . .¡± The hulking blond man crossed one arm across his still-impressive chest, cupping the opposite elbow in his upturned palm. He tapped a large finger thoughtfully against his square jaw.

    ¡°Regardless, whatever the relationship is, he must not hold you in very high regard. After all, it¡¯s been, what? Two weeks? And there is no indication that he plans to come for you.¡±

    The sinister smile that spread across his face sent chills from the roots of her hair to the tips of her bare toes. Her resolve to not rise to his baiting weakened.

    The drugs that the prison guards were using to suppress her Talents had considerably weakened her gifts, but her anger and humiliation fueled a last-ditch effort. She focused every ounce of inner strength that she could muster to glom onto his morphing ability.

    Slowly her right arm began to tingle, and she knew that she still had some fight left. In the blink of an eye, a bluish-gray tentacle appeared where her arm had just been. The point of the tentacle was slick and narrow; while the bones of her wrist had been too large to slip through the cuff that was holding her to the chair, her new appendage was not. She whipped her tentacle free and flung it towards the visitor, wrapping it around his meaty neck. She squeezed. His eyes bulged, and panicked gasps echoed off the stone walls.

    The closer of the two guards was on her before she could even smile with satisfaction. He repeatedly struck the appendage with the butt of his rifle until the grip on her prey slackened. She was too fatigued to hold the morph any longer, and it wasn¡¯t long before his gun made contact with her wrist instead of a tentacle.

    A shock of pain reverberated up her arm to her shoulder, and she yelped in spite of her resolution to remain silent. The guard quickly holstered his weapon and grabbed her forearm, twisting it painfully.

    ¡°I should break it,¡± the guard growled, his breath hot and rancid next to her ear.

    She clenched her jaw against the mounting agony in her shoulder and tried to breathe through her mouth so she wouldn¡¯t inhale any more of his noxious fumes. The guard didn¡¯t release her; instead he looked to the visitor, now rubbing his throat, for direction. The visitor nodded, and the cracking of her radius filled her ears, followed by a pain so intense that her eyes poured tears. Despite her best efforts, she began to sob.

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    Along with her cries, words that she¡¯d longed to hurl at the hateful Director spewed from her pursed lips.

    ¡°You¡¯re one to lecture on the merits of a family tie,¡± she gasped, boldly meeting his eyes. ¡°Look at what you¡¯ve done to your own son!¡±

    The Director¡¯s laugh contained no mirth. ¡°I have given him the chance to be great, to be special,¡± he said quietly.

    ¡°She knows,¡± Penny hissed as the guard finally released her now-broken arm. She cradled it in her lap, wishing that she¡¯d go into shock, so that the limb would go numb.

    ¡°Natalia? Natalia knows nothing.¡± Mac re-crossed his arms over his chest, and Penny could see the ring of bright red spots that her tentacle¡¯s suckers had made on his exposed throat. Pleasure coursed through her frayed nerves.

    ¡°I have made sure that she chalked your little episode in the courtroom up to the fantastic delusions of a very disturbed traitor.¡±

    It was Penny¡¯s turn to laugh humorlessly.

    ¡°You think that you have so much control over her, don¡¯t you? But what you don¡¯t understand is that deep down, she knows what you are. Once she is willing to admit that to herself, she¡¯ll run.¡±

    Danbury McDonough¡¯s eyes flickered with fear, belying the neutral tone in his voice when he shrugged and answered. ¡°We¡¯ll see.¡± He scrutinized her for a long moment. ¡°Actually, I will see. You won¡¯t be around to watch me crush the Coalition and Ian once and for all.¡±

    If her broken arm hadn¡¯t been causing waves of nausea and dizziness to wash over her, she might¡¯ve attempted another attack. As it was, the most that she could hope for was ruining his neatly tailored suit with projectile vomit. She cursed her weakness; she¡¯d failed Talia too many times already. Now she could do nothing more than whimper as the man who¡¯d been treating her best friend like a puppet for years succeeded in destroying the Coalition¡¯s last hope at getting Talia to safety.

    Loud voices echoed through the hallway behind the Director. The high-pitched giggle that assaulted Penny¡¯s ears sent a fresh wave of panic through her, and she visibly trembled.

    Danbury McDonough chuckled and stepped to one side to allow the new visitor and his entourage to enter the cell. The owner of the childlike voice was small, just over five feet. His boyish face was freckled and tan; his impossibly clear eyes sparkled with mischief. Penny wasn¡¯t fooled; the man might look like he was twelve, but his real age was probably closer to forty. His deceptively youthful appearance wasn¡¯t his only oddity. As a Mimic, Penny could always identify the exact abilities that another Talent possessed. But somehow, the man-boy¡¯s gifts were impossible for her to pinpoint. He wasn¡¯t a solitary Talent, that much she knew. It was the extent and nature of his abilities that confused her.

    ¡°Penelope, you remember Dr. Wythe,¡± Danbury McDonough announced, clapping the shorter man on the back.

    ¡°So we meet again, Ms. Crane,¡± Dr. Wythe greeted her, shoving his small hands into the front pockets of his gray dress pants.

    The pain in Penny¡¯s arm paled in comparison to the memories of the torture-filled interrogations that she¡¯d experienced at the hands of Dr. Wythe. The sessions always ended in the same way¡ªwith Penny blacking out. The only bright spot in her otherwise-bleak horizon was that he kept coming back; it meant that, despite his best efforts to physically extract her memories, he¡¯d yet to uncover the information that TOXIC desired.

    ¡°I just came from a delightful morning with a mutual friend of ours,¡± he tempted, watching her closely with his unnerving eyes to gauge her reaction.

    The breath that she¡¯d been about to take hitched in her throat. There was only one person he could be talking about: Talia. His strange, nearly translucent irises seemed to widen with delight at her reaction.

    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t worry, Penelope. My methods can be painless, almost pleasant even . . . if I want them to be.¡± It was like he was reading her mind. Maybe he was¡ªshe thought that Telepathy was one of his Talents.

    ¡°Leave Talia alone,¡± Penny hissed, renewed hatred causing her to fight against her restraints. She didn¡¯t care what they did to her anymore; they were going to kill her anyway. But the thought that he was rifling around in Talia¡¯s head was too much for her to bear.

    ¡°Maybe I will. Maybe you and I can reach an accord, Ms. Crane. Tell me what I want to know,¡± he shrugged his narrow shoulders noncommittally, ¡°and I¡¯ll declare Ms. Lyons cured and end our sessions.¡±

    Penny contemplated his offer for one accelerated beat of her heart. Talia would never dredge up the memories that Dr. Wythe had forced her to repress if he kept ¡°treating¡± her, but Penny divulging the Coalition¡¯s confidential secretes wouldn¡¯t help her Uncle Ian reach Talia either. Penny warred with her conflicting emotions. No, Talia was strong. No matter how good the man-boy was, Talia was better. Penny would just have to trust that Talia would allow herself to remember¡ªto understand.

    Penny straightened her spine, forcing her posture into a defiant and confident stance.

    ¡°You¡¯ll have to kill me first,¡± she declared, staring straight into the man¡¯s imploring eyes.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Ms. Crane, we have big plans for you,¡± he said softly. ¡°Now, let us begin.

 Chapter Eighty-Three: The One with the New Assignment

    ¡°Do you have to go, Talia?¡± Kenly Baker whined for the hundredth time since she found out about my new assignment.

    She batted her long lashes, jutting out her lower lip as if she were five instead of sixteen. I rolled my eyes at her failed attempt at manipulation. She¡¯d clearly forgotten who she was dealing with. I, of course, was a master manipulator; her efforts didn¡¯t hold a candle to my abilities.

    ¡°I have to, Kenly,¡± I soothed my prot¨¦g¨¦. ¡°But like I¡¯ve told you a million times, I¡¯ll only be gone for three weeks. Donavon promised to oversee your training, and he has the practice schedule that I made. You¡¯ll be fine.¡±

    ¡°I know, I know, but it¡¯s not the same. He¡¯s not you,¡± the younger girl pouted.

    ¡°No, in many ways he¡¯s better. He actually became a Hunter,¡± I reminded her¡ªand myself¡ªa little bitterly.

    ¡°That¡¯s not what I meant,¡± she grumbled, refolding a dress shirt from the pile on my bed.

    Guilt washed over me. As much as I wanted to get away from the School, I hated leaving Kenly. Over the past few weeks, she¡¯d become more of a friend and less of a mentee. I knew she would never be the best friend and confidante that Penny had been, but Kenly put me at ease, and the calm that I felt while with her was a welcome respite. Training her soothed the hurt and confusion of Penny¡¯s betrayal, and Kenly¡¯s loyalty and dedication to The Agency helped renew my own.

    ¡°You¡¯ll be fine,¡± I promised, liberating the shirt from her long fingers before she could make any more creases in the soft fabric. I held up a basic black cocktail dress and matching jacket. ¡°What do you think about this?¡± I asked, changing the subject.

    ¡°Kinda boring,¡± she mused, barely sparing the frock a second glance as she made her way across my bedroom. Kenly rifled through the assortment of garment bags in my walk-in closet.

    ¡°How about this one?¡± She held up a long, green, silk dress with a cinched waist.

    Pursing my lips, I shook my head and returned my attention to the stacks of black pants and white shirts covering my king-sized bed. Tears stung the backs of my eyes and I blinked furiously to hold them at bay. The dress she¡¯d selected brought bittersweet memories back.

    The first and only time I¡¯d worn that dress was for Festivis two years ago. I was still a Hunter Pledge then, and Mac, the Director of TOXIC, had given me and Penny permission to go into Washington, D.C. to celebrate. It had been an incredible day¡­but having spent it with Penny made the memory so conflicted. And it wasn¡¯t just that one; every thought of Penny caused nauseating spasms to rip through my stomach, and ropes of anger, pain, and guilt to wrap around my lungs, making every breath that followed a chore.

    I¡¯d thought that I knew Penny. I¡¯d thought that she was my best friend. And until three weeks ago, she was. When I¡¯d learned that Penny was the spy for The Coalition, the person responsible for my brush with death and subsequent health problems, I was livid. But when I confronted Penny, she¡¯d pleaded with me to understand that Mac was not who I thought he was, and that The Agency couldn¡¯t be trusted. I hadn¡¯t known what to think then, and I still didn¡¯t now.

    I wanted to hate her for her deception. I wanted to be happy that she was getting what she deserved. I wanted to feel pride that I¡¯d been the one to uncover her treachery. Yet, every time that I tried to summon any of those emotions, I found it impossible. When I thought about Penny and the price she¡¯d paid, I mostly felt disgust¡ªfor her, for me, for The Agency.

    ¡°I just don¡¯t understand why you¡¯re taking all black,¡± Kenly commented, replacing the dress and drawing my attention back to her.

    ¡°I¡¯m going on assignment, Kenly. I¡¯ll be working the entire time. It¡¯s not as if this is a vacation,¡± I answered absently.

    ¡°It¡¯s not a funeral, either, Tal.¡±

    She rolled her large, brown eyes. Kenly knew about Penny¡ªit seemed to be the only thing anyone talked about anymore¡ªbut like everyone associated with TOXIC, she didn¡¯t understand why I grieved for a traitor. Sometimes I didn¡¯t either.

    ¡°Right, I guess you have a point,¡± I mumbled, gripping a shirt so tightly, the skin over my knuckles turned as white as the fabric.

    Kenly did have a point. Except, while it wasn¡¯t a funeral I¡¯d be attending, I was in mourning.

    I glanced at the Communicator sitting on my bedside table. 3:12 p.m. I hugged myself to still the tremors starting in my limbs. Penny had been dead for just over ten hours.

    The memory of Penny pale and gaunt in the courtroom on the day of her sentencing, haunted my dreams. I hated remembering her that way. When we¡¯d first met, Penny was vivacious and carefree. I tried to concentrate on that version of my former best friend¡ªso full of life. Thinking about the fun we¡¯d had together, and how much she meant to me, I could almost block out the painful memories of the last time I saw her¡­almost.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay to miss her,¡± Kenly said, startling me out of my reverie once again.

    ¡°Huh?¡±

    ¡°I can tell you¡¯re hurting, Tal. It¡¯s because of her, right?¡± Kenly rarely said Penny¡¯s name, if she mentioned her at all.

    I preferred it that way. I couldn¡¯t stand the feelings that emanated from people when they thought about Penny. Some hated her. Some felt sorry for her. And worst of all, many felt sorry for me. I didn¡¯t want anyone¡¯s sympathy

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to talk about her,¡± I replied, more harshly than I intended.

    I knew Kenly was only trying to help, but I could feel her pity, and it made irrational anger bubble up in my stomach.

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    Kenly paled. ¡°Right. I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    She turned away to hide her hurt feelings. The overload of emotions that I was already experiencing left no room for shame at the way I¡¯d spoken to her.

    ¡°You ready? Dad will be back soon,¡± a deep voice called from my sitting room.

    I looked up from the open suitcase that I had yet to actually pack. Donavon McDonough¡¯s blond head peeked through the open doorway. His bright-blue eyes darkened as he took in my black pants, black sweater, and even blacker mood. Sympathy slipped through his mental barriers, washing over me in a cool embrace. I couldn¡¯t meet his gaze.

    ¡°Does it look like I¡¯m ready?¡± I snapped, gesturing to the clothes strewn across my burgundy comforter.

    ¡°What can I do to help?¡± Donavon asked, lightening his tone.

    I sighed. First Kenly, now Donavon. I needed to get it together, or I wasn¡¯t going to have any friends left. They weren¡¯t the source of my irritation. In actuality, I wasn¡¯t at all sure who I was really mad at, but I had plenty of options: Penny for lying, Mac for taking pleasure in extinguishing the life of another human being, or myself for being too trusting and weak.

    ¡°Just promise me that you¡¯ll make sure Kenly is ready for her Placement Exams,¡± I replied, glancing to where the younger girl stood in my closet, still studying my wardrobe.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Kenly, you can count on me,¡± he called, pitching his voice so she¡¯d be sure to hear. ¡°I¡¯m not as good as Tal, but I¡¯ll do my best.¡±

    Kenly¡¯s face flushed as she basked in his attention.

    God, don¡¯t let her get distracted, I prayed.

    ¡°Thanks, Donavon,¡± she mumbled, studying the plush carpeting beneath her feet, too shy to meet his eyes.

    Donavon had been helping me since I began coaching Kenly, but he still made her nervous.

    ¡°Kenly, I think my mom made lunch. Why don¡¯t you go get started while I help Tal finish packing?¡± Donavon suggested.

    Kenly nodded jerkily as she scurried from my bedroom.

    ¡°How ya doing?¡± Donavon asked once we were alone.

    How was I doing? My best friend had just been executed, I wasn¡¯t allowed to mourn her death openly, and I was so much on edge that I barely knew which way was up. I was doing just peachy. But I didn¡¯t say any of that.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been better,¡± I answered instead, finally starting to jam the piles of clothes from my bed into the empty suitcase.

    ¡°Maybe now you can start to put this behind you,¡± Donavon mentally sent.

    He made his way to my side. His hand hovered over my shoulder for a brief moment before falling to his side. Instead of touching me, he busied his hands placing several pairs of black pants into my bag.

    ¡°I hope so,¡± I sent back, refusing to meet his eyes.

    If I saw the concerned expression that he surely wore, the waterworks would be unavoidable. Since Penny¡¯s sentencing, Donavon became a constant fixture in my life. He was one of the only people that saw me every day, and despite his valiant effort to keep his worried thoughts to himself, I knew my increasing instability concerned him.

    ¡°Maybe going with my father isn¡¯t such a good idea,¡± he suggested, gently tucking loose curls behind my ear so that he could better read my expression.

    After Penny¡¯s sentencing, Mac asked me to accompany him to Washington, D.C. to help administer the annual Talent Aptitude Test. Every summer, all of the five-year-olds in the nation were summoned to one of five testing centers and tested to determine whether they possessed unique abilities. The children who tested positive were offered a spot at The McDonough School for the Talented, where they would learn to use their talents for the greater good.

    The job wasn¡¯t exciting or glamorous like my previous assignment with the Hunters, but it was something. The only other option I had was sitting in my bedroom waiting for Medical to find a cure for my condition. Until that happened, the Placement Committee considered me too much of a liability in the field to return to the Hunters.

    ¡°It¡¯s for the best. I can¡¯t stay here any longer. It reminds me too much of her,¡± I replied bitterly. ¡°Besides, I don¡¯t really have anywhere else to go. Medical still hasn¡¯t cleared me and the School is no longer in session, so I can¡¯t even help with classes.¡±

    ¡°You could stay and finish helping Kenly get ready for her Placement Exams,¡± Donavon said.

    He no longer tried to reassure me that the doctors would find a cure for my seizures. Dr. Thistler had finally managed to get them under control¡ªI was three weeks seizure-free¡ªbut until I was actually cured, I was stuck living in a state of perpetual limbo.

    ¡°I could¡­. But honestly I think it¡¯s better if I just get away from here for a while,¡± I sent back, zipping the larger of my two suitcases shut. Then I turned to my vanity and began packing my toiletries. ¡°Besides, she has you.¡±

    Donavon used to be a Hunter too. After he¡¯d broken protocol by insisting on giving me a transfusion of his unfiltered blood, his father had him suspended from active duty and brought to the School. Like me, he¡¯d been undercover, posing as an instructor at the School for the past couple of months, trying to flush out the traitor. Since we found the spy and Mac thought Donavon had learned his lesson, he was technically allowed to return to the Hunters. But he liked being an instructor and asked to stay at the School instead. I envied him the choice.

    He made an unpleasant noise deep in his throat. ¡°Spending time with Erik is more important than Kenly¡¯s future?¡±

    My nerves were already frayed, and Donavon¡¯s hostility caused several to snap. Rounding to face him, I shot Donavon an icy glare. Granted, the best part of the assignment was that Erik had been selected, as well, but I didn¡¯t like the accusatory tone in Donavon¡¯s voice.

    When I met his pained eyes, my anger dimmed slightly. Donavon had been my boyfriend for most of my adolescence until he cheated on me. At the time, I¡¯d thought his betrayal was the worst pain that I¡¯d ever experience, save the night I¡¯d witnessed my parents¡¯ murders. Then I felt the sharp bite of real treachery when I¡¯d learned that Penny was a traitor.

    Eventually, I forgave Donavon¡¯s infidelity, but I was no longer in love with him. He took the rejection better than I could have hoped, but his voice dripped loathing whenever he spoke Erik¡¯s name. While the dislike was genuine, he used it to mask his hurt feelings. Over the past couple of weeks, Donavon had tried to keep his biting comments to a minimum, but sometimes¡ªlike now¡ªhe let them slip.

    ¡°I¡¯m looking forward to seeing Erik,¡± I answered honestly. ¡°But you know that is not the only reason I¡¯m going.¡±

    While I wanted to spare Donavon¡¯s feelings, I also wasn¡¯t going to hide my relationship from him.

    The very thought of Erik made my heart lift and my pulse quicken. I pulled my gaze from Donavon before the grin could spread across my lips. We¡¯d last seen each other three weeks before, and I missed him terribly. We talked every day and had seen each other once, but Mac wouldn¡¯t authorize more than a weekend visit. He hadn¡¯t wanted me leaving the School grounds and said that Erik needed to focus on his duties since he would be leaving to help with the aptitude testing for several weeks. I couldn¡¯t wait to see him. The hologram-Erik had nothing on the real thing.

    ¡°Yeah, I know,¡± Donavon said aloud. Abruptly, he turned, shielded his hurt eyes, and walked over to grab the dresses that Kenly had selected for my trip. ¡°I¡¯ll get all your bags. Why don¡¯t you go eat?¡± he continued, keeping his back to me.

    ¡°Donavon,¡± I began, my voice trailing off, not quite sure what to say.

    Thanking him for being there for me after everything with Penny seemed inadequate. Apologizing for choosing Erik would only open his healing wounds, and worse, it would be a lie.

    ¡°I know, Tal,¡± he said heavily, glancing over his shoulder. Shaggy blond hair hung low on his forehead, nearly masking the conflicted expression in his slightly watery eyes. ¡°I know.¡±

 Chapter Eighty-Four: The One with the Hover Ride from Hell

    ¡°We will only be gone for three weeks, not three months, Natalia,¡± Mac said dryly as he walked into the kitchen.

    Donavon had piled my bags by the front door, and Mac couldn¡¯t miss them when he entered the house.

    ¡°Just want to be prepared for every occasion,¡± I answered as glibly as I could manage with a mouth full of turkey sandwich.

    ¡°Are you almost ready?¡± he asked, ignoring my snide tone.

    ¡°Soon as I¡¯m done eating.¡± I swallowed the turkey, bread, mayo, and potato chips and offered him a weak smile.

    Mac pursed his lips and furrowed his brow in disapproval. He opened his mouth to comment, but Gretchen interrupted him.

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you eat something before you go?¡± she suggested, stretching to place a light kiss on her husband¡¯s clean-shaven cheek.

    ¡°I ate on the plane,¡± Mac replied, giving her a quick peck in return.

    It was the most affection I¡¯d ever seen the two express. Gretchen was more of the lovey-dovey type, but usually saved her fawning for me and Donavon. Mac, on the other hand, rarely displayed any level of emotion toward anyone.

    ¡°I¡¯ve packed your clothes. The suitcases are still in the bedroom,¡± Gretchen said, patting her perfectly styled blonde hair absently as she busied herself with cleaning the kitchen.

    ¡°I¡¯ll get them, Dad,¡± Donavon offered quickly, scooting his chair back from the round table, the legs screeching against the tile floor as he moved.

    ¡°Thank you, son,¡± Mac replied. ¡°Good to see you, Ms. Baker,¡± he added when he finally noticed Kenly quietly nibbling on her own sandwich.

    ¡°Hi, Director,¡± she managed to choke out.

    Since I first started training Kenly, she¡¯d become a regular visitor to the McDonough¡¯s house, but she never seemed at ease in Mac¡¯s presence. Mac didn¡¯t notice her awkwardness; he¡¯d already turned his scrutinizing gaze back to me.

    ¡°Dr. Thistler sent your medication to the hangar already. She explained how to perform the injections, I assume?¡± Mac confirmed.

    I nodded.

    Dr. Thistler, the Head of Medical Research for The Agency and my personal physician, was leading the charge to find a cure for my condition. Normally, she gave me my daily injections and drew my blood to test the levels of the chemical present. But she wasn¡¯t going with us, so I had to learn to perform the unpleasant task myself. Being in charge of my own healthcare made me nervous, but Dr. Thistler assured me that as long as I remembered to administer the shot every day, I would be fine. I certainly hoped she was right.

    ¡°You¡¯re all set, Dad,¡± Donavon said, returning to the kitchen and saving me from his father¡¯s impending lecture.

    ¡°Thank you.¡± Mac smiled fondly at his only child. ¡°Natalia, it¡¯s time to go.¡±

    I shoved the last bite of potato-chip-laden sandwich in my mouth and stood. Kenly stood, too, and gave me an awkward hug. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯ll be back in time for your exams. You¡¯re gonna do great. Just stick to the practice schedule I outlined,¡± I whispered, returning her embrace.

    ¡°Will you call me?¡± she sniffed, sounding choked up.

    Her display of emotion touched me in a way little had since Penny¡¯s arrest.

    ¡°Of course,¡± I promised. ¡°I have to make sure that you¡¯re not slacking in my absence. If you don¡¯t make the Hunters, it¡¯ll be pretty embarrassing for me.¡±

    I winked when I pulled away to let her know I was kidding. Although in truth, a line of people waited for her to fail so that they could give me a big ¡°I told you so.¡± Mac was at the head.

    Kenly was a rare Dual-Talent, meaning that she had two distinct sets of abilities, Higher-Reasoning and Telekinesis. It was extremely unusual for a Dual-Talent to be proficient in both areas and Kenly wasn¡¯t an exception. Her Higher-Reasoning abilities were well developed, but her Telekinesis was lacking. I¡¯d been helping her strengthen it in the hope that she would make the Hunters. She¡¯d drastically improved over our time together, but I wasn¡¯t sure it would be enough. Many, Mac included, thought my efforts were a waste of time. Donavon¡¯s willingness to take over Kenly¡¯s training was more a testament to how much he cared about me than to his confidence in Kenly¡¯s chances.

    I turned to Gretchen and waited while she said a quiet goodbye to her husband. The only outward signs of affection between them were a quick hug and lingering fond look, but I knew better. Gretchen was a Mind Manipulator like me. I was positive that they were exchanging their goodbyes privately.

    After she had finished with Mac, Gretchen turned and leaned down to wrap her thin arms around me. She was considerably taller than my five feet.

    ¡°Be careful, Natalia,¡± she sent.

    ¡°Careful? It¡¯s just aptitude testing, Gretchen. It¡¯s not as if it¡¯s dangerous,¡± I replied, rolling my eyes into her shoulder.

    ¡°I know, dear, but I always worry about you.¡± She smiled as she pulled away. Gretchen gave me a long, searching look with eyes the same cornflower blue as her son¡¯s. ¡°Be sure to take your medication at the same time every day.¡±

    ¡°I will,¡± I promised. ¡°I¡¯ve been feeling really good the past couple of weeks. You don¡¯t need to worry.¡±

    Gretchen hugged me again, then released me to follow her husband from the kitchen.

    Donavon stood by the front door, waiting to help load the bags into the car. I grabbed the lighter of my suitcases and trailed Mac and Donavon from the house. Once the luggage was inside, Donavon drove across the compound toward the hover hangar.

    I stared out the window, emotions swirling out of control with the passing scenery. The McDonough¡¯s house, my house, held so many memories, both good and bad. It had been the first place I¡¯d felt safe after my parents were killed, the place I met Donavon, and where I learned to use my talents. It had also been my prison after my return from Nevada. I both loved and loathed, longed for and dreaded, the structure.

    Donavon and his father made small talk as we wound through the sprawling grounds. The early summer flowers were in bloom, yellow and white dotting the otherwise green canvas. The lake shone smooth as glass, reflecting the bright orange of the late afternoon sun. But I couldn¡¯t truly appreciate any of it. Everything I saw reminded me of her. The orange rays were reminiscent of Penny¡¯s flame-colored hair. Even though the lake water was calm, nothing like the roaring waves of the ocean in the images that Penny showed me at her sentencing, it still triggered the now fading scenes.

    When the guards escorted Penny from the courtroom, she opened her mind to me. She urged me to see memories of my parents, of me¡ªher memories. At the time, I¡¯d thought they were real and that she¡¯d actually known my mom, my dad, and even me. Overwhelmed by the painful images, I broke down in the courtroom. As a result, Mac ordered me into therapy with The Agency¡¯s Head of Psychoanalysis, the formidable Dr. Wythe.

    After several weeks of intense psychobabble, I realized that what I saw in Penny¡¯s head that day wasn¡¯t her memories at all. They were fabrications she manifested to make me think that she¡¯d known my family. Dr. Wythe explained that Penny was the enemy, and she was trying to turn me against The Agency by showing me visions, images of myself and my parents, in an attempt to confuse me. During the sessions, the images began to fade. At times, the scenes I recalled were fuzzy, out of focus pictures. Other times, the memories were bathed in shadows and I couldn¡¯t distinguish one silhouette from the next.

    But in my dreams, the scenes were still crystal clear. It was there that I saw the man with deep-blue eyes and a freckled face, the woman with curly, chestnut hair, and the child with purple irises. When I woke, I tried to hold on to the dream, tried to recall every detail of the happy family. Like with all dreams, the longer that I was awake, the harder the images were to grasp. I felt as though I was looking through binoculars. At night, the memories were so close that I was positive if I reached out I could touch them. But in the light of the day they were distant and blurry. I thought that my mind was playing tricks on me.

    More than once, I tried to draw the dreams, but my artistic abilities left something to be desired¡ªthe people were little more than stick figures.

    Mac had spent the morning at Tramblewood Correctional Facility witnessing Penny¡¯s execution. I wanted to ask him about it. I had so many questions. Had she said anything before the guards led her to her death? Had she made a deathbed confession of sorts? Had she cried? Despite everything, the thought of Penny alone in her last minutes broke my heart. In the courtroom, she¡¯d appeared thinner than the day of her arrest, but she had radiated strength and pride, and I hoped that three weeks in Tramblewood didn¡¯t rob her of that. I¡¯ve never been to the prison, but I had heard stories. It was rumored to be a horrible place, devoid of light and goodness¡ªthe stuff nightmares are made of. If Tramblewood came anywhere close to living up to its reputation, I could have at least taken solace in the fact Penny was in a better place now.

    Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

    The hover hangar was alive with activity when we arrived. Operatives were busy loading luggage onto two Agency planes while flight crews readied the crafts for takeoff. The other instructors and administrators from the School that would be going with us to D.C. milled around.

    Donavon helped load mine and Mac¡¯s bags. I stood mutely off to one side. I watched while Donavon said a quick goodbye to his father. Mac held two fingers up in my direction, and I understood that I had two minutes to say my own goodbye.

    ¡°So¡­.¡± Donavon began, coming over to me, ¡°I guess this is goodbye.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I guess so,¡± I said awkwardly.

    After everything we¡¯d been through in the past couple of weeks and our tumultuous history, goodbye seemed insufficient¡ªlame even.

    ¡°I¡¯ll see you soon.¡± His lips curved upward in a smile, but his eyes remained flat.

    ¡°Take care of Kenly. I¡¯ll never forgive myself if she doesn¡¯t get assigned to the Hunters,¡± I tried to joke.

    ¡°I¡¯ll do my best,¡± he said, visibly straining to keep the emotion from his voice. ¡°Don¡¯t forget to take your medicines and make sure to get enough rest.¡±

    I rolled my eyes. Another person lecturing me about taking my medications and paying attention to my health was the last thing I wanted. At least Donavon actually cared, unlike Drs. Thistler and Wythe, who both treated me like a test case.

    ¡°Natalia,¡± Mac called from the steps of the plane, ¡°let¡¯s go.¡±

    Apparently, my time was up.

    ¡°Bye,¡± I whispered, closing the small gap that separated us.

    Donavon just stood there for a long moment, nervously chewing his lower lip and fighting the words on the tip of his tongue. It had been like this a lot lately, him always seeming as though he wanted to tell me something but deciding against it at the last minute. Usually, I let him have his privacy. Not today though; I opened my mind only to find his carefully guarded. I thought about knocking through his mental walls, but quickly dismissed the idea. Instead, I threw my arms around his neck and hugged him tightly.

    ¡°I¡¯ll miss you,¡± I mumbled into his ear.

    ¡°Me, too,¡± he whispered back, pulling me closer to him.

    Donavon¡¯s lips brushed a kiss on my cheek. Then he turned and strode purposely from the hangar. As I watched him go, an uncomfortable feeling settled in the pit of my stomach and dread caused my next breath to hitch in my throat. Foreboding bathed me in a cold sweat and I wondered if I¡¯d ever see my first love again. The notion was irrational. I would see him in three weeks. But logic didn¡¯t help shake the feeling.

    The cabin of the aircraft was spacious, with ten large recliner chairs spread throughout. Most of the seats were already taken but two unoccupied chairs remained¡ªone next to Mac and one next to a small girl with choppy, black hair, beady, black eyes, and scrunched features: Cadence Choi.

    To say that Cadence Choi was not my friend was akin to claiming that the Grand Canyon was a hole¡ªa vast understatement. She was an instructor at the School and someone that I¡¯d investigated as a potential Coalition spy. At the time, Cadence had been unaware of my intentions, but she¡¯d been hostile toward me anyway. She hated me for achieving the goal that she¡¯d set for herself, being selected to pledge the Hunters. The fact that I¡¯d actually failed to become a Hunter gave her some satisfaction, but not enough to lessen her animosity.

    Mac had failed to mention that Cadence would be among the test administrators. Her surprise presence did not thrill me, and the harsh glint in her beady eyes indicated the feelings were mutual.

    I went with the lesser of two evils and sank down next to Mac. He gave me a tight smile, then withdrew a portable computer from his briefcase and booted it up. I settled into the seat and closed my eyes, hoping to catch some sleep before we arrived in D.C.

    My mind wouldn¡¯t quiet, though. My overactive imagination conjured up horrible images of Penny¡¯s last moments. The roar of the engines did nothing to drown out the made-up screams in my head.

    ¡°Mr. Simmons, Ms. Eisenhower, Mr. Trindel, and Ms. Howard were sentenced this morning,¡± Mac said quietly once we were in the air.

    My throat constricted painfully and I searched the cabin for someone that could bring me a glass of water. No stewardess was in sight.

    ¡°And?¡± I managed to say.

    ¡°Mr. Simmons and Ms. Eisenhower were each convicted of conspiracy to commit murder.¡±

    ¡°Conspiracy to commit murder?¡± I sputtered, shocked. ¡°Isn¡¯t that a little harsh?¡±

    ¡°No, Natalia, it¡¯s not. Their actions, or rather lack thereof, resulted in your near death. I¡¯d have thought that you of all people would think the punishment is just,¡± Mac replied.

    The disapproval at my reaction was evident in the steel-gray of his eyes.

    Penny¡¯s execution had been front and center in my mind all day, and I had somehow managed to forget about the others who had been arrested in the wake of her discovery as a spy. None of the others had been charged with treason since there was no concrete evidence to link them to Penny, Crane, or The Coalition, but they had all lied about the intel that had sent me to Nevada. Their breach of protocol couldn¡¯t go unpunished.

    Cal Simmons and Jennifer Eisenhower were part of the team, along with Penny, that had intercepted the original intel regarding Crane¡¯s trip to Las Vegas. Both realized the intel was encoded using low-level encryption, but failed to report it. The judge presiding over their cases had wanted to reserve her final judgment until TOXIC¡¯s Psychic Interrogation Division sufficiently questioned Penny. And apparently, their punishments were handed down this morning after Penny¡¯s execution.

    Just the thought of Penny undergoing psychic interrogation made me shudder. I knew the repercussions of so wholly invading another¡¯s mind firsthand. I had done just that to a boy named Ernest. Not only had I robbed him of his memories, I had taken his sense of self. Now, Ernest was in the Psychiatric Ward at the School¡¯s medical facility and could barely sit up on his own or feed himself. I wasn¡¯t sure whether I hoped that had happened to Penny or not. Maybe the end would have been easier if she didn¡¯t know what was happening to her.

    ¡°What¡¯s their sentence?¡± I asked hesitantly, dreading his answer.

    ¡°Mr. Simmons will be serving ten years and Ms. Eisenhower eight. The judge decided her motivations were less devious; therefore, her sentence should be lighter.¡± Mac shook his head, showing his disagreement.

    Icy fingers closed around my heart. The sentences were much longer than I¡¯d anticipated. Jennifer was a weak-willed, twig of a person. She would never last eight years in prison. And Cal, ambitious, determined Cal, would be forty-five when he was released. I loathed what they¡¯d done, but I never imagined that it would lead to this. I figured that they¡¯d be relegated to cleaning toilets or something as equally demeaning.

    ¡°What about Grace and Rider?¡± I asked quietly.

    Rider Trindel and Grace Howard were the other two Operatives arrested for their involuntary involvement in Penny¡¯s elaborate scheme to get me face-to-face with Ian Crane. I had intended on keeping their roles out of my official report. Unfortunately, Mac wasn¡¯t stupid and put the pieces together on his own.

    Their punishment for breach of protocol and cheating on Placement Exams was likely severe, but I hoped that their reason for doing so would gain them some leniency. While the deception nearly cost me my life, I hated the idea that they were in so much trouble on my account.

    ¡°Ms. Howard was sentenced to fifteen years for conspiracy to commit murder and having cheated on her Placement Exams.¡± Mac searched my face for my reaction. I kept my features neutral this time, even as guilt made my turkey sandwich go leaden in my stomach. ¡°Mr. Trindel received life in prison for the same.¡±

    ¡°Life?!¡± I exclaimed loudly. ¡°Are you serious?¡±

    Several heads swiveled in my direction, causing Mac to glare at me.

    ¡°Keep your voice down, Natalia. This isn¡¯t public information,¡± he scolded. ¡°But, yes, I am serious. His willingness to aid another Operative in lying and cheating speaks volumes on his character. And he is an elite-level Higher-Reasoning Talent; there is no telling what he is capable of devising. He cannot be trusted.¡± Mac gripped the armrests so hard that I thought his knuckle bones might pop right through the skin.

    If I¡¯d thought that Cal and Jennifer¡¯s punishments were extreme, theirs were a drop in the bucket compared to Grace and Rider¡¯s. Horrible couldn¡¯t begin to describe how badly I felt.

    You have no idea what your Agency does to innocent people.

    The words Crane spoke in Nevada played like a record stuck on repeat. Sure, none of the Operatives were exactly innocent, but they didn¡¯t deserve this. Hadn¡¯t enough people been hurt already? Couldn¡¯t Mac just have them dismissed from The Agency? Wouldn¡¯t that ensure they never got the chance to harm another Operative? All of their lives were ruined, and Penny had lost hers. Suddenly, my seizures didn¡¯t seem that terrible.

    ¡°I¡¯m tired. I think I¡¯ll close my eyes again until we land,¡± I said, turning to look out the oval window on my right.

    The fluffy, white clouds and bright sunshine seemed to mock me with their happy appearance. I closed my lids to block out their infuriating cheerfulness and turned my thoughts to my own personal sun: Erik. For the millionth time, I thought how he was the only bright spot in my life. My lips parted in a smile that I couldn¡¯t have contained if I¡¯d tried.

    ¡°Natalia, The Agency has rules and regulations in place for a reason. These Operatives breached protocol and now they have to pay the price.¡±

    Every time Mac said ¡°protocol¡± I cringed as if it were a dirty word.

    ¡°Oh, right, protocol,¡± I scoffed. ¡°If memory serves, your son breached protocol, too, yet he wasn¡¯t even hauled in front of the disciplinary board, let alone brought up on formal charges.¡±

    It was a low blow and I was glad Donavon wasn¡¯t around to hear me throw his sacrifice in Mac¡¯s face. Donavon knew the consequences when he gave me his blood and had done it anyway. I wasn¡¯t even sure I properly thanked him for doing so. I didn¡¯t know if I ever could. How do you repay someone for saving your life?

    Mac paled and pursed his lips into a thin line. I held my breath, waiting for him to explode. I often wondered when Mac¡¯s tolerance of my increasingly bad attitude would run out. The daggers shooting from his eyes pinned me to the seat, telling me the time had finally come. I couldn¡¯t decide if I was embarrassed that so many others would hear the verbal tongue lashing, or relieved that there were witnesses so he would have to hold a little back.

    ¡°Donavon served several months in hell for his impulsive actions,¡± Mac said finally, his words measured, his composure now restored, and his demeanor eerily calm.

    I was taken aback by his ability to turn emotion on and off like a light switch.

    ¡°What are you talking about?¡±

    Mac offered me a coy smile, liked he¡¯d just scored a pivotal point in a game I wasn¡¯t aware we were playing. Suspicion and unease made me squirm in my seat.

    ¡°He had to endure your attitude and mind games for three months, Natalia. If that does not make him think twice before stepping out of line again, well, then, I do not know what will.¡± Satisfied, Mac faced forward, his smile widened.

    I swallowed hard, appropriately cowed. Definitely should have sat next to Cadence, I thought. At least she would have ignored me.

 Chapter Eighty-Five: The One with the Reunion

    One short hour later, I thanked the bellhop as he wheeled the collection of luggage into my room on the fifth floor of the Hamilton Hotel. Before parting ways in the hotel lobby, Mac gave me an itinerary for the coming weeks. The first item on the schedule was a cocktail reception for all Operatives assigned to the D.C. testing site and several high ranking senators and congressmen. I hated these types of events. The schmoozing, handshaking, and forced small talk put my teeth on edge. Unfortunately, the reception was not optional, evidenced by ¡°MANDATORY¡± scrawled in all caps on my schedule. Thankfully, I still had two hours of Mac-free peace before the torture began.

    The large bed pushed against one gold-papered wall called my name. Leaving my unpacked suitcases by the door, I flopped down on the blue and gold down comforter, sinking in to the fluffy fabric. I sighed contently, relaxing for the first time since opening my eyes that morning.

    Kenly had showed up at the McDonough¡¯s house before sunrise on the pretense of a morning run. I knew she was actually there to distract me from Penny¡¯s execution. Donavon most likely put her up to it. Between the two of them, I hadn¡¯t had more than ten minutes to myself. It was sweet, but what I really wanted was time alone.

    A sharp knock on the door echoed inside the hotel room. So much for peace and quiet, I thought with a groan. I imaged it was Mac, back to lecture me about my medications, or worse, my attitude.

    ¡°I know, make sure to take my injection before dinner,¡± I said, throwing the door open with my mind.

    ¡°Well, hello to you, too,¡± a voice that was most certainly not Mac¡¯s replied.

    I raised my head so fast that stars dotted my first glimpses of Erik Kelley.

    ¡°Oh, my god, it¡¯s you,¡± I cried, jumping from the mattress, practically throwing myself across the room and into his waiting arms.

    When I had talked to him the night before, he was unsure whether he would be arriving tonight or tomorrow morning.

    Erik wrapped me in a warm embrace as my head smacked against his well-muscled chest.

    ¡°I¡¯ve missed you,¡± he whispered against my hair, running his hand over the tangled dark curls.

    He tightened his hold on me, crushing my body to his. I buried my face in his neck and let him half-carry, half-drag me from the doorway. Erik mimicked my telekinetic abilities to slam the door shut behind us. Slowly, he lowered me to my feet. I drew back from him and locked his turquoise eyes with my purple ones.

    I had been waiting for this moment since watching him board the plane back to Elite Headquarters. Seeing Erik in person, holding him, feeling the hard planes of his body against mine, was so much better than talking to him on the Communicator.

    Standing on my tiptoes, I stretched to fix my lips against his. I gripped handfuls of his navy button-down, pulling him closer to me. The electricity I always felt when we touched crackled between us. He wound his fingers through the belt loops of my black dress pants, pulling my hips into his as he kissed me back.

    My head spun and my heart thudded as we stumbled toward the huge bed that I¡¯d just vacated. Erik lowered himself onto the mattress, perching on the edge. Sitting, while I stood, made his mouth level with mine. His fingers toyed with the edge of my sweater, then slid underneath the soft fabric; I wrapped my arms around his neck. He traced the scars that marred the flesh above the waist of my pants. My breath caught in my throat, but I refused to break the kiss even though the lack of oxygen was making me lightheaded.

    Erik moved his hands up my back, sending tingles dancing along my skin. His touch was light, like feathers tickling my flesh. His heart thudded heavily in his chest, his pulse quickening when I broke away to kiss his neck. Erik moved his hands to cup the back of my neck and gently pushed me away just enough so that he could see my face. Our ragged breaths were in unison as he ran the pads of his fingers over my cheeks and then traced the contours of my mouth. I stared into turquoise eyes that sparkled in the early evening light streaming through the small window. The golden sunshine danced through his dark hair, threading dark-brown highlights through the black.

    ¡°You sure know how to make a guy feel welcome,¡± he whispered, his face so close that we breathed the same air.

    Heat rushed to my face. I had practically attacked him, after all.

    Erik chuckled. ¡°Don¡¯t be embarrassed. I like it when you¡¯re the aggressor.¡± He arched his eyebrows suggestively, and I thought that I might spontaneously combust.

    Erik shifted to prop himself against the pillows on the headboard.

    ¡°Come here,¡± he whispered when I didn¡¯t immediately follow.

    Taking his outstretched hand, I climbed up next to him and rested my head on his shoulder and my palm against his still-thudding heart.

    ¡°How are you feeling?¡± he asked, worry dampening the desire that he¡¯d felt moments before.

    His concern was real, but the way his thumbs caressed my stomach, dipping below the waistband of my pants, said he still had other activities on his mind.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to talk about my health,¡± I said coyly, cocking my head so that I could see his face.

    A devilish grin spread across his lips and he bent his head until our lips met again. Twisting, I placed one knee on either side of his hips, straddling his waist. The boldness of my actions surprised us both. Erik tensed slightly. For a brief moment, I worried that I¡¯d been too brazen. When I tried to pull back, Erik¡¯s hands held me firmly in place. Slowly, he slid his palms up my sides, under my sweater, and my stomach muscles clenched painfully in anticipation when he reached the edge of my bra. Erik broke the kiss long enough to push my shirt up over my head.

    Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

    I shivered even as my skin burned under his touch. Fumbling with the buttons on Erik¡¯s shirt, I tried to remove the material that separated us. Nerves made my hands tremble and I couldn¡¯t grip the small buttons. Erik gently pried my fingers loose, taking over the task of undressing himself.

    I sat admiring the lean muscles of his bare chest and stomach. I ran my hands over the smooth skin. Erik leaned forward and ran his hands up and down my arms. I titled my head back and felt my curls tumble all the way to my waist. Erik¡¯s mouth closed around the erratically-jumping pulse in my throat. I think I moaned¡ªit was hard to tell over the blood pounding in my ears¡ªwhen he trailed kisses, soft as flower petals, across my collarbone.

    ¡°Natalia,¡± a voice called loudly from the other side of the door,

    Like a bucket of ice water, this effectively doused the euphoria of being so close to Erik while wearing so little clothes. The next sound from my lips was somewhere between a groan and a whimper.

    My unwanted guest banged insistently.

    ¡°It¡¯s the Director,¡± Erik mumbled against my ear, flicking the lobe back and forth with his tongue.

    ¡°I know,¡± I whispered.

    ¡°You should probably answer it,¡± Erik said, even as he kissed the hollow of my throat.

    ¡°I know,¡± I repeated, arching my neck farther to give him better access and hating Mac for his untimely interruption.

    ¡°Natalia, open the damn door,¡± Mac demanded.

    Regretfully, I pulled away and climbed off Erik¡¯s lap.

    ¡°Coming, Mac,¡± I called impatiently.

    Spotting my sweater on the floor, I hastily grabbed the shirt and yanked it over my head. I threw the door forcefully open with my mind.

    ¡°Can I help you?¡± I barked with as much politeness as I could muster.

    ¡°No need for the attitude, Natalia,¡± Mac replied lightly. He poked his head through the doorway. He eyes narrowed to slits when he took in the sight of Erik sitting shirtless on the hotel bed. ¡°Sorry to interrupt,¡± he said, not sounding sorry at all. Erik remained silent, but at least had the good grace to look embarrassed. ¡°I just wanted to remind you to take your medication.¡±

    ¡°Thank you. I will,¡± I answered with a tight smile.

    ¡°I trust I will see both of you at the welcome reception.¡± Mac pitched his voice to make sure Erik didn¡¯t miss the command. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Erik nod. ¡°And Natalia?¡± Mac said, returning his attention to me.

    ¡°Yes?¡± I snapped, eager to get rid of the Director.

    ¡°Please wear a color other than black.¡± Mac¡¯s eyes ran the length of my wrinkled mourning outfit, narrowing on the hem of my shirt.

    I followed his gaze, blood rushing to my face when I realized what he was staring at. My sweater was inside out. Erik had obviously noticed, too. He snickered loudly to show his amusement.

    ¡°Yes, sir,¡± I replied with a mock salute, trying to cover the awkward moment.

    Mac gave one last disapproving glare in Erik¡¯s direction before retreating. I rolled my eyes at his back. Mac was just looking out for me, I knew that, but the constant reminders to take my medication were as unwelcome as his interruption.

    Walking over to my collection of unpacked bags, I rifled through the contents until I found the medical kit that Dr. Thistler had so thoughtfully included in my belongings. The syringes and vials of the good doctor¡¯s equalizer were neatly packed in two metal cases with The Agency¡¯s logo carved on the tops. I unsnapped the metal hooks fastening the first case. Twenty-five white, plastic tubes with long, sharp needles gleamed back at me. I ran my fingers lightly over the case¡¯s contents that were the bane of my existence.

    ¡°Why don¡¯t I do it?¡± Erik said quietly, startling me out of my self-misery.

    ¡°No, I got it,¡± I whispered back.

    My hands shook slightly when I unclasped the hooks of the other case. I withdrew one small glass container with a yellowish liquid and unscrewed the cap. I selected one of the syringes from the first case, inserted the tip end into the serum, and slowly pulled the plunger out of the tube. The plastic filled with the equalizer.

    Heaving an enormous sigh, I rested the filled syringe on the bedside table. Then I climbed back up onto the mattress. Erik watched me from his perch among the fluffy pillows, eyes full of concern. His apprehensive expression made the situation that much worse.

    Tearing my gaze away from Erik, I stared back at the bedside table. The needle sat, taunting me. I¡¯d become accustomed to receiving the daily injections; they¡¯d been part of my routine since I¡¯d returned from my failed mission in Nevada. But until now, I hadn¡¯t actually had to administer the shot myself; I didn¡¯t realize how hard it would be. I loathed needles, and I¡¯d always hated the sight of my own blood. Feeling it soak through my clothes, sticky and hot, made me hate it even more.

    Erik¡¯s warm hands slid under my shirt and over my ribs. I leaned my back against his chest gratefully. Straddling me from behind, he carefully worked my arm from the sleeve of my sweater and reached for the syringe. Erik tore open the alcohol swab, then rubbed the crook of my elbow with the damp square.

    ¡°Ready?¡± he mumbled into my ear.

    I nodded, averting my gaze from the sight of the needle poised over the blue vein already bulging against my flesh. It was as if my blood were calling for the drug. Erik placed his chin on my shoulder and used his free hand to hold my arm steady. Every muscle in my body went rigid as the point pierced my skin. But the instant the chemicals hit my bloodstream, I sagged with relief. Calm spread through me, like the ocean after a storm. I hadn¡¯t even realized how tense I was until just then.

    Erik held me while I reveled in the aftermath of the injection, like a junkie. I hated how dependent I was on the drug.

    ¡°Better?¡± he asked after a couple of minutes.

    ¡°Better,¡± I agreed with a contented sigh, sleepy now that the medication was working its magic in my system. I lazily navigated my exposed arm back into the sweater.

    Erik set the used needle on the table and wrapped his arms around my waist. He pulled me farther back on the bed. Gratefully, I curled my body against his and basked in the feel of his bare skin against my cheek.

    Mac¡¯s interruption had broken the mood earlier. Now reality was preventing me from finishing what I started. While the injection put me at ease, the unfortunate truth was that I was sick, and with every passing day, I became more and more convinced that my condition was permanent.

    My future within The Agency was uncertain. If I couldn¡¯t return to the Hunters, what would I do? Would I even get another chance to kill Crane? Did I even want to? After everything with Penny, I didn¡¯t know what to believe. And Crane was the only person left alive that could tell me for sure whether what she¡¯d shown me in the court room was real.

    ¡°None of that matters right now, Tals. Just rest,¡± Erik sent, reading the concerns from my mind as quickly as I thought them.

    My eyelids became heavy. The tumultuous swirling emotions finally quieted. Tension ebbed from my muscles, seeming to leak out of my pores.

    ¡°Don¡¯t let me sleep too long.¡± I slurred my words, letting Erik bear the burden of my problems.

    ¡°I won¡¯t.¡±

    The last thing I remembered was the brush of Erik¡¯s lips across my forehead.

 Chapter Eighty-Six: The One with the Secret Adventure

    While we waited for the hotel elevator to arrive, Erik and I held hands. The steel doors slid apart, revealing a mirrored interior car. I stepped on and stared at my reflection. Chestnut-brown hair fell in large curls down the back of my black, velvet jacket. Mac had practically ordered me to wear color, so I had selected a dark-gray cocktail dress to go underneath my black coat. The hollows under my eyes were dark from too many sleepless nights. Dull, lifeless irises sat like two purple marbles sunken into a face I barely recognized. The jacket had been specially tailored to fit my small frame before I¡¯d come back to the School, but now it hung loosely on my too-thin body.

    Erik¡¯s reflection, on the other hand, revealed beautiful turquoise eyes over high cheekbones and tanned skin. His black hair hung perfectly around his face and looked professionally styled even though he¡¯d barely brushed it after his shower. The green dress shirt was tucked into the waistband of his khaki pants. His navy blazer was unbuttoned and the sleeves were rolled up to the elbows, The Agency logo embroidered on the breast pocket.

    The fine lines around the corners of his eyes and mouth were the only outward sign of his inner stress. He tried to keep his mental barricades up so the anxiety wouldn¡¯t seep from his mind and amplify my own. I was touched by his concern, but hated that he thought me weak, felt sorry for me even. We weren¡¯t equals in this relationship. He was a rock, all strength and power. I was fragile, spun glass, ready to break if someone looked at me the wrong way.

    Apparently, there were also cracks in my mental armor, letting my thoughts leak out.

    ¡°You¡¯re beautiful,¡± Erik insisted, planting a kiss on the top of my head.

    I rolled my eyes. ¡°And you¡¯re a bad liar.¡±

    ¡°Actually, I happen to be an excellent liar.¡± I gave him a withering look in the mirrored wall. ¡°Fine, you might be a little skinnier than I usually like my girlfriends, but I¡¯m sure we can take care of that over the next three weeks.¡± Erik pinched my waist playfully.

    I pushed him away, pretending his comment bothered me. It sort of did. Erik grabbed me from behind, spinning me to face him. He pushed me hard; the handrail collided with my lower back, sending a jolt of pain up my spine.

    ¡°You want to know the truth? You are one of the strongest people I have ever met. And you are definitely the most beautiful, Tal,¡± he murmured, leaning in so his lips moved against mine when he spoke.

    His kiss wasn¡¯t gentle. If it were possible, I fell a little more in love with him in that moment.

    The lobby of the Hamilton was lavishly decorated with blue and white wall hangings bearing The Agency logo and each division¡¯s emblem. The couches scattered throughout the foyer were upholstered in deep-red fabrics with gold throw pillows. Tuxedo-clad waiters waded through the crowds of already gathered Operatives and Congressmen, passing out drinks and finger sandwiches.

    Several people turned and when we stepped into the grand room. Their murmured conversations were like verbal assaults to my ears as they whispered to one another phrases like, ¡°She was the girl¡¯s friend¡±, ¡°She caught that spy¡±, or ¡°She had to relearn to walk.¡± Anxiety clouded my mind, and the urge to turn around and run and seek sanctuary in my room was almost too strong to ignore.

    ¡°They¡¯re looking at me, not you. Don¡¯t worry.¡± Erik smiled.

    I gave him another eye roll and tried to suppress the grin tugging at the corners of my mouth. I was so glad he was here.

    ¡°Natalia,¡± Mac called, coming over to greet me. ¡°I have plenty of people that I¡¯d like for you to meet.¡± Then Mac turned his attention to Erik, pointedly glaring at our intertwined fingers. ¡°Mr. Kelley, I am sure you can find a way to entertain yourself while Natalia mingles.¡±

    Erik nodded curtly to the Director and gave my hand a brief squeeze. ¡°Call if you need me,¡± he sent and disappeared into the crowd.

    For the next three hours, I trailed Mac as he mingled and schmoozed with the plethora of politicians that had assembled in the nation¡¯s capital to celebrate the start of aptitude testing. Many I¡¯d met over the past eight years, some I hadn¡¯t. All were eager to congratulate me on finding the traitor that had infiltrated our government. I kept a smile plastered on my face through the entire ordeal, never giving even the slightest indication that I was anything less than thrilled at the way things turned out.

    When I grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waitress, Mac deftly removed the drink from my hand.

    ¡°Not tonight, Natalia,¡± he mumbled under his breath.

    Relegated to drinking nonalcoholic beverages, I consumed glass after glass of ice water. Thanks to Mac¡¯s refusal to let me out of his sight for longer than a nanosecond, I had to use the bathroom so badly that I had to fight the urge to cross my legs like a child.

    ¡°I¡¯ll escort you back to your room, Natalia,¡± Mac declared when the crowd started to thin.

    ¡°I need to make a stop first. No need to wait,¡± I replied, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

    ¡°Where do you need to stop?¡± he asked suspiciously.

    I gave him a hard look before answering. ¡°If you must know, I need to pee.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re an adult, Natalia. I would think that you could manage to make it to your room first,¡± he stated, visibly relaxing at my benign answer.

    ¡°I¡¯ve had, like, eight glasses of water, Mac. I¡¯m going to burst,¡± I whined.

    ¡°Fine, but please see to it that you find your way to your own room as soon as possible. I would prefer you get some rest before tomorrow morning,¡± he ordered, his gray eyes boring into me.

    His unspoken command was crystal clear: Don¡¯t go to Erik¡¯s room.

    ¡°Of course, Director.¡± I smiled sweetly.

    ¡°Breakfast tomorrow, then?¡± he asked as though it was a question.

    But I knew better. It was an order.

    ¡°I¡¯ll see you at seven,¡± I responded, grateful for his dismissal.

    Mac nodded curtly before heading to the elevator bank alone.

    In truth, I genuinely did have to use the bathroom so bad it hurt. But I wasn¡¯t a child; I could have made the journey to my room without incident. However, I wanted to find Erik before heading upstairs.

    I spotted him by the bar, sipping amber-colored liquid from a large mug engraved with the TOXIC logo. He was chatting easily with Cadence Choi. Unlike me, Cadence had chosen to don Agency-issued black slacks and a fitted, black jacket with the School¡¯s emblem embroidered over her left breast. Her short, black hair was styled neatly just above her shoulders. I¡¯d noticed throughout the evening that I was one of the few Operatives that had forgone the uniform-like attire in favor of a more cocktail-appropriate dress.

    Having no desire to get close to Cadence and doubting that Erik would leave without finishing his beer, I found the lobby restrooms. When I was finished, I returned to find the two still engrossed in conversation. Irritated, I wound my way to the bar.

    ¡°Hey,¡± I said, placing my hand possessively on Erik¡¯s arm.

    Even as I did it, I felt petty, but I didn¡¯t like how chummy he was with Cadence.

    ¡°Hey to you, too,¡± he replied, a smile lighting up his entire face.

    The tension I¡¯d felt building in my muscles all evening eased as I basked in the warmth of his affection. Erik slipped his free arm around my waist, kissing the top of my head softly.

    ¡°Hello, Cadence,¡± I said politely, acknowledging the slightly older girl.

    Her scrunched features hardened when she turned her attention away from Erik and fixed her beady black eyes on me.

    ¡°Talia, it¡¯s so nice the Director let you accompany him. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve just been itching to get off the School grounds,¡± she replied, sneering.

    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m not accompanying Mac,¡± I shot back, trying to keep the animosity in my voice to a minimum. ¡°I¡¯ve actually been assigned to help administer the aptitude tests.¡±

    Erik¡¯s arm tightened around my waist when he felt my temper begin to flare.

    ¡°Really?¡± Cadence raised her pencil-thin eyebrows. ¡°I wasn¡¯t aware Medical had cleared you for active duty.¡±

    ¡°Medical hasn¡¯t, but Mac thought my abilities would be extremely helpful for the testing.¡± I tried to keep my voice even as I spoke, but couldn¡¯t quash the urge to rise to the challenge in hers.

    Since our first encounter, Cadence had been hostile. Not that I was exactly Susie Sunshine, either. I hated the joy my failure elicited in her and used every opportunity to remind her that, no matter what had happened, I was still the Director of the Agency¡¯s favorite, that he still treated me like a daughter, and that I had connections and status in our world that she would never be privy too.

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    Sure, I knew that it was childish, but the satisfaction it gave me, no matter how small, was worth it. And, honestly, the events of the past year had cooled my relationship with Mac significantly, but he and I were the only ones who knew that. Our private conversations were often strained and combative. Yet in public, I worked hard to maintain the status quo and never let on that we were constantly at odds or that I¡¯d come to doubt that I knew him as well as I thought. While I was confident that Mac was aware my trust in him was fading, he never gave any outward indication, either in public or private.

    ¡°It was nice to see you again, Cadence,¡± Erik said, offering her a gleaming white smile and effectively putting an end to our less-than-friendly exchange.

    ¡°You, too, Erik.¡± She returned his smile easily.

    I was shocked that she could proffer positive emotions toward another human being, seeing as she was always so frigid to me.

    ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll take you up on the offer to help me train for my tryout next month.¡±

    ¡°What?!¡± I demanded mentally, rounding on Erik. ¡°She¡¯s been granted another tryout for the Hunters? And you offered to help her train?¡±

    ¡°Definitely,¡± Erik agreed, rubbing my back to calm the anger growing heavy inside of me. ¡°You know where to find me.¡±

    With that, Erik steered me away from Cadence Choi before I could say something aloud that I might regret later. He led me through the elaborately decorated foyer of the Hamilton Hotel, through the double glass doors that marked the entranceway, and out onto the deserted sidewalk that ran along Fourteenth Street.

    Four armed Agency men dressed in black and gray fatigues stood alert in front of the hotel¡¯s entrance. Each Operative carried a large, black automatic weapon against his chest. Four sets of dark, intense eyes snapped in our direction.

    ¡°Erik, what¡¯s up?¡± The shortest of the four guards called, his large coffee-colored face breaking into a huge grin.

    ¡°Desmond? How are you?¡± Erik called back, surprised.

    ¡°Doing well, man. Got pulled off guard duty at Tramblewood to come down here. The city¡¯s been crazy since they caught that spy chick,¡± Desmond responded, shaking his head.

    I stiffened at his reference to Penny, promptly forgetting all about Cadence.

    ¡°Yeah, I bet,¡± Erik said neutrally, pulling me closer to his side. ¡°What¡¯s the deal with the curfew?¡±

    The normally lively city streets were empty, devoid of the usual teenagers and twenty-somethings that frequented the downtown bars.

    In the wake of Penny¡¯s sentencing, riots broke out all over the nation. The discord people felt toward the government, and The Agency in particular, reached an all-time high. Apparently, traitor or not, the majority of the population had reservations about executing a teenage girl. I knew that Mac feared there would be trouble during the aptitude testing.

    Mac hadn¡¯t explained the state of the nation to me prior to our departure from the School. In the weeks since Penny¡¯s sentencing, he¡¯d become visibly more stressed. He began taking daily work trips into Washington and other key cities throughout the country. When he returned at night, he looked every one of his fifty years. Since Mac was less than forthcoming, I probed Donavon for details. He had been the one to tell me about the riots and extended curfews.

    For as long as I could remember, I¡¯d respected Mac and understood that his position came with some hard decision to make. However, learning of his intention to keep the mandatory curfews in effect until further notice made me question his judgment. Imposing such restrictions on people¡¯s freedom was extreme. The regulations wouldn¡¯t alleviate the dissonance. They would only make it worse.

    ¡°The Director wants to maintain the curfew in all testing cities for the duration of the exams,¡± Desmond was telling Erik. ¡°People have been losing faith in The Agency ever since they learned we let a spy infiltrate our organization. And then there are the conservatives that think the Mandatory Talent Testing Act should be abolished. They protest every year anyway.¡±

    ¡°Bummer. We were hoping to get a drink before bed,¡± Erik answered shaking his head regretfully.

    Were we? I¡¯d figured that Erik had led me outside because it was the fastest way to get me away from Cadence.

    ¡°Well, the Director wasn¡¯t really clear, but I don¡¯t think the curfew applies to TOXIC Operatives. Although all the bars are closed already.¡± Desmond shrugged his massive shoulders as if to say ¡°sorry.¡±

    ¡°Eh, no big deal. But it would still be cool if we took a walk, right? Got a little fresh air? Talia and I were hoping for some alone time.¡± Erik pitched his voice lower, making it suggestive, as though he was sharing a secret only for Desmond¡¯s ears. The compulsion behind his words was clear to me, yet I doubted that Desmond or the others noticed.

    I wanted to roll my eyes. As desperate as I was for alone time with Erik, I doubted that he was manipulating the guards just so we could have a midnight tryst. But I followed his lead anyway, cuddling closer to his side. I glanced up at Erik with pure adoration. When our eyes met, he had to contain a snicker and I guessed that my attempt to sell the story wasn¡¯t going as well as I thought.

    Desmond turned his full attention to me as if noticing my presence for the first time since our arrival on the sidewalk. His caramel eyes lit up with recognition.

    ¡°Natalia Lyons,¡± he muttered, extending a mammoth-sized hand to me. Hesitantly, I returned the gesture, losing my small palm in his embrace. ¡°You¡¯re something of a legend out at Tramblewood.¡± He shook my hand vigorously, causing my entire body to vibrate. ¡°Everyone¡¯s so impressed with the way you caught that traitor. They say you were able to infiltrate her mind, which is crazy because the best Psychic Interrogators worked on her right up until they plunged that needle in her arm and none of them could get through.¡±

    My head began to spin and hot tears burned the backs of my eyes at his graphic description of Penny¡¯s execution. I hastily pulled my hand free from his grip, stumbling slightly as my legs became weak. Erik kept a firm hold on my waist, urging me to stand upright. Once again, I leaned heavily into him for support, but this time I wasn¡¯t pretending. The thought of Penny dying made me nauseous and this man¡¯s jubilant attitude only made the sickness that much worse.

    Desmond gave Erik a knowing smile, the equivalent of a mental high five. I could feel Erik¡¯s muscles go taut and I knew that friend or not, Desmond was treading on thin ice. Erik might have started the joke by insinuating we were sneaking off to get naked, but he didn¡¯t like the way Desmond was leering at me or how upset his words made me. Erik¡¯s overprotective nature both thrilled and irritated me. I could stand up for myself. I struggled against Erik¡¯s grip, straightening my spine and steeling my nerves against any further assaults. They didn¡¯t come. Desmond returned his full attention to Erik.

    ¡°Go ahead, man. I¡¯m sure no one will care. Just don¡¯t be gone too long and be sure to identify yourselves if you encounter any guards. They¡¯ve been given clearance to shoot first and ask questions later, if you know what I mean.¡± Desmond gave us a pointed look.

    ¡°Thanks, Des. I really appreciate it. And no worries. If we see any guards, I¡¯ll be sure to let them know who she is.¡± Erik inclined his head in my direction. ¡°Being the Director¡¯s pseudo-daughter has a lot of clout.¡± His tone was jovial, but there was an underlying note of hostility. He seemed to be reminding Desmond and the other guards of my place in our world.

    My irritation deepened, but I stayed silent.

    ¡°Have fun, guys,¡± Desmond said, casting a conspiratorial look at his fellow Operatives.

    ¡°Thanks,¡± I muttered, keeping my eyes downcast to prevent him from seeing the pain and anger I was trying to hide.

    Erik released my waist and grabbed my hand, practically dragging me away from the guards. We crossed the deserted city street in silence. An eerie calm blanketed the capitol city. There wasn¡¯t even a single homeless person begging for money in sight. The tall glass buildings that littered downtown Washington, D.C. were dark and bereft of life. Even the apartment buildings were quiet. No vehicles flew down the ordinarily clogged streets. No hover-cars whizzed overhead.

    Walking down Fourteenth Street, we passed The Grass is Always Greener, a bar we¡¯d been to on a night out when I was still a Pledge. There was no line of drunken city kids clamoring to get inside its doors. No loud music filtered through the non-soundproof walls to fill the night. Sadness washed over me. The city had been so much fun when we¡¯d been there for Festivis the previous month, and now it was reduced to this. I hoped that after the aptitude testing was over, the city would return to its former glory.

    Erik led me further down Fourteenth Street. He picked up the pace slightly as we made a right onto I Street. I had so many questions for him that I didn¡¯t know where to begin. So I started with the most obvious.

    ¡°Where are we going?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll see,¡± he sent back, glancing down at me with a broad smile.

    Knowing Erik, wherever we were going wasn¡¯t likely somewhere we were allowed. Maybe he was taking me to some romantic location for quality alone time.

    We continued down I Street for another couple of blocks, passing more darkened store fronts, empty bars, and deserted nightclubs. My short legs had to work hard to keep pace. As we approached the intersection of I and Fifteenth Streets, I felt the dull hum of a human mind. Alarmed, I stopped in my tracks and squeezed Erik¡¯s hand tightly. Fear made my heart thud painfully against my ribs as I recalled Desmond¡¯s words: They¡¯ve been given clearance to shoot first and ask questions later.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Tals,¡± Erik said calmly. ¡°I know the guards on duty tonight.¡± He smiled at me reassuringly.

    ¡°Do you know everyone?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m just a friendly guy. What can I say?¡±

    My anxiety increased the closer we got to the source of the mental activity. I had all my energy focused on my mental talents, so I was surprised that I recognized the guard when we were still fairly far away. Normally, I was only able to expand my sense of sight when I consciously concentrated my energy.

    The guard¡¯s dark hair was just visible underneath the black helmet that he wore. His hazel eyes darted nervously from side to side, surveying his surroundings. His jaw was set in a hard line and irritation radiated off of his being.

    The guard¡¯s own senses were superior to any normal human¡¯s, even to my own. He was a Morph. An elite-level Morph, no less. And at the same time that I recognized him, he recognized us and he didn¡¯t appear pleased at our presence.

    ¡°Hey, Arden,¡± Erik called when we were still several feet away.

    Arden Greis was one of Donavon¡¯s former Hunter teammates.

    ¡°Erik. I figured you¡¯d changed your mind,¡± Arden responded uneasily. ¡°Hey, Talia,¡± he added, offering me a small smile.

    ¡°Hi, Arden,¡± I said, now even more curious about what we were doing.

    ¡°That damned reception the Director made us go to ran longer than I expected,¡± Erik apologized.

    ¡°You won¡¯t have much time down there,¡± Arden replied, his eyes shifting from me to the padlocked gate behind him. ¡°There¡¯s a train scheduled to come through in an hour, and it¡¯s not just cargo. Not sure what¡¯s on it, but we were told to be extra vigilant tonight.¡±

    ¡°An hour is plenty,¡± Erik answered, not phased in the least by Arden¡¯s barely civil tone.

    ¡°Alright, just be sure to watch the time. This is a mighty big favor, and you know I can get in a lot of trouble for this.¡± Arden¡¯s mind projected his reservations loud and clear.

    ¡°Let¡¯s just go back,¡± I sent Erik.

    ¡°He¡¯s just being dramatic, Tals. I promise we won¡¯t get caught.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want him to get in trouble,¡± I urged, shifting my gaze to Arden, who was glancing suspiciously between me and Erik, aware that our mental conversation involved him.

    ¡°He owes me.¡±

    Curiosity formed the question of what exactly had Arden indebted himself to Erik for before I decided that I¡¯d probably rather not know.

    ¡°No worries, man. You know Talia and I can talk our way out of any situation.¡± He winked at Arden, but the older boy wasn¡¯t mollified by Erik¡¯s assurances.

    Although, admittedly, Erik did have a point. In the event we were caught sneaking around wherever it was that gate led to, I could make sure whoever caught us didn¡¯t recall the encounter long enough to make a report.

    Reluctantly, Arden reached for the set of silver keys attached to his belt. He noiselessly turned the key in the large padlock and held the gate open, allowing Erik and I to pass through.

    Grabbing a flashlight strapped to his thigh, he handed it to Erik. ¡°It¡¯s really dark down there and since neither of you is a Morph, you¡¯ll probably need this,¡± he said.

    ¡°Thanks,¡± Erik replied, taking the heavy metal object in his free hand.

    ¡°One hour, Kelley,¡± Arden hissed behind us.

    Erik waved dismissively.

    Immediately inside of the metal gate was a metal staircase with two rubber handrails. An old-fashioned escalator, I realized. The stairway was so steep that it vanished halfway down.

    ¡°Erik, where do these stairs lead?¡± I demanded, trepidation making my voice high-pitched and frantic.

    ¡°To my favorite place in the city, Tals.¡±

 Chapter Eighty-Seven: The One with the Potentially False Memories

    ¡°These stairs lead to the metro, don¡¯t they?¡± I demanded, tugging Erik¡¯s hand with enough force to halt his steps temporarily.

    ¡°Sure do,¡± he sent back. Erik¡¯s amused expression was barely visible in the darkened space.

    The metro used to be the primary mass transportation system in D.C. But as hover technology became more prevalent, the ridership declined. After a cave-in at one of the stations killed several dozen people, the system shut down for good. The government decided the money needed to repair the damage to the metro would be better spent on expanding the more desirable skyway. The deserted tunnels began to attract drug dealers, prostitutes, and others seeking a place to conduct illegal business. As a result, the government padlocked all of the entrances. Rumor had it that TOXIC now used the metro cars and remaining tunnels to transport cargo to and from the city.

    ¡°What about the security cameras?¡± I asked.

    Surely The Agency monitored the stations.

    ¡°There aren¡¯t any.¡±

    ¡°What? Really? Are you sure?¡±

    ¡°Positive. A couple of my friends from school are metro guards. City kids pay top dollar for the guards to look the other way while they throw parties down here. I¡¯ve even been to a couple.¡±

    ¡°Why would anyone want to go to a party down here?¡±

    I practically felt Erik roll his eyes as if the answer should have been obvious. Maybe to him it was, but I failed to see the appeal.

    ¡°Because the metro is mysterious. Forbidden. Some even say it¡¯s haunted. Teenagers love anything illegal. I know I do,¡± Erik replied.

    That was certainly true. Erik found any excuse to break the rules. I bet he thought sneaking around down here was a game.

    ¡°What about the train conductors?¡± I asked.

    ¡°There aren¡¯t any. Trains are automatic.¡±

    My eyes began to adjust the farther we descended, the platform at the end of the escalator coming into view. A dank, musty smell grew stronger with every step.

    ¡°If this is such a hot party spot, why haven¡¯t you taken me down here before?¡± I asked suspiciously, trying to cover my growing unease. The place was already creeping me out, and we hadn¡¯t even made it into the actual station yet.

    ¡°Not exactly the kind of place you take a girl you¡¯re trying to impress. Besides, Henri would¡¯ve killed me if I¡¯d suggested it,¡± he sent back.

    Erik¡¯s flashlight lit up a hole where the last step of the escalator was missing. He jumped the void and held out his hand to help me over.

    The floor tiles were cracked or missing all together in several places. My dress flats slid across the damp surface as Erik led me past a row of ancient machines with yellowed lettering and splintered display screens.

    ¡°Henri has been down here?¡± I asked skeptically.

    Henri had been my team leader during my pledge period with the Hunters. He was way too straight-laced to go gallivanting around restricted areas.

    ¡°Once or twice,¡± Erik replied evasively.

    I narrowed my gaze, glaring at Erik¡¯s back. There was something he wasn¡¯t telling me.

    ¡°Once or twice?¡± I mimicked back.

    Erik didn¡¯t take the bait, so I let it drop.

    ¡°Come on. We don¡¯t have much time,¡± he said, tugging my hand and urging me to move faster.

    We rounded the corner at the end of the row of dilapidated machines. The room exploded into a cavernous expanse. The ceiling was close to fifty feet above us and rounded. Another set of escalators stretched twenty feet down onto a lower platform. Two sets of metal rails extended the length of each wall, disappearing into pitch black tunnels at the far end of the room. The sheer size of the station overwhelmed me. I¡¯d never seen anything quite like it.

    The rank odor of decay and disuse became stronger. Cold, damp air engulfed me like a wet blanket, making it hard to breathe normally. I shivered in my thin cocktail dress and lightweight jacket. Erik released my hand and worked his arms out of his own coat, wrapping it around my trembling shoulders. I smiled, grateful for the extra layer of protection against the cold and grime of the metro station.

    Erik led the way down the remaining escalator steps and out onto the lower platform. Several stone slabs that had served as benches for long-forgotten waiting passengers lined the space between the two tracks. I followed Erik, watching with undisguised skepticism as he sat on the edge of the closest bench.

    The beam from Erik¡¯s flashlight emphasized large fissures in the stone, making me doubt the structural integrity of the bench. It looked as though it would give way at any moment. Erik beckoned me over, his amused expression seeming out of place in such a desolate station. Deciding that if the bench held him, it would hold me, too, I gingerly sat down.

    The stone was cold against the backs of my thighs and the thin dress provided little protection. I pulled Erik¡¯s jacket tighter around my body. His eyes were on me, his mind reading my thoughts as I surveyed the surroundings. I tried to imagine kids my age drinking and laughing, playing music, dancing even. Try as I might, my imagination wasn¡¯t that good. Everywhere I looked, I saw abandonment.

    ¡°So, are you going to tell me why you brought me down here tonight?¡± I asked, returning my focus to Erik.

    ¡°Privacy. This is the only place I know of without cameras or listening devices or people watching our every move. I feel safe here. Like I can be me.¡± Erik sounded wistful and a little sad.

    I stared at him, questioning his sanity. The metro station felt the opposite of safe. Shadows lurked around every corner. The unmistakable squeak of rodents echoed off the cavernous walls. Water trickled somewhere in the distance, the steady drip grating my nerves. I scooted closer to Erik.

    ¡°I can¡¯t even begin to understand how hard the last couple of weeks have been,¡± Erik began, speaking aloud for the first time.

    ¡°I¡¯m okay,¡± I mumbled quickly, turning away from his imploring gaze.

    I was so used to people asking me how I was doing, or assuming they knew how I felt, the response was automatic.

    ¡°It¡¯s just us down here, Tal. You don¡¯t need to pretend you¡¯re fine,¡± Erik replied, gently. ¡°Want to tell me what happened in the courtroom?¡±

    In the days that followed the scene in the courtroom, I lived in a state of shock. If nothing else, the counseling sessions with Dr. Wythe helped bring me back to the present, when all I wanted was to sit in my room and lose myself in the memories of my parents. I hated that the psychotherapist was the only person I was allowed to talk to about Penny and what she mentally showed me.

    When Mac finally allowed Erik to come visit me, he made sure we were never alone. Either Mac or Gretchen hovered within earshot at all times. I was so paranoid that I didn¡¯t even trust that our mental communications were private. Fear that Gretchen might be listening in or that my out-of-control emotions would affect my ability to project my thoughts only to Erik kept me from sharing with the only person I actually wanted to confide in.

    But now, sitting in that filthy, decrepit subway station with Erik, I couldn¡¯t find the words. So much had happened, I didn¡¯t even know where to begin. Panic constricted my lungs, making my breaths come out in ragged gasps. My stomach felt as though it was on the spin cycle.

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    ¡°Look at me, Tal.¡± Erik¡¯s words were barely a whisper, but they sounded like shouts breaking through the silence.

    I turned to face him. Calm poured over me the instant I met his eyes.

    Instead of telling Erik what had happened, I decided to show him. I grabbed both his hands firmly in mine. The physical contact wasn¡¯t necessary, but the feel of his skin on mine gave me strength.

    ¡°Open your mind,¡± I whispered hoarsely.

    He complied without hesitation. I closed my eyes and allowed all of the memories I¡¯d spent the last few weeks suppressing to surface.

    Starting from the very first encounter I¡¯d had with Penny in the Hunters Village, I showed him how she¡¯d used my own powers of mind manipulation against me. I recounted the times I was sure she persuaded me into telling her things I hadn¡¯t originally wanted to, and the times she cajoled me into decisions I wouldn¡¯t have otherwise made. I recalled the times that, in hindsight, I knew she¡¯d accidentally mimicked other talents. Like the time she used Ursula Bane¡¯s telekinesis to catch a glass in mid-air. And the time she was helping me train Kenly for her Placement Exams and mimicked Kenly¡¯s abilities to keep me from breaking my ankle.

    Erik knew about my interrogations of the four other Cryptos, but not wanting to leave out any detail, I replayed each in my head so that Erik could see and feel what I¡¯d experienced first-hand. I reminded him of Penny¡¯s intake evaluation that was seared into my brain, the final clue that had cinched Penny¡¯s guilt for me: the indication that she was a Light Manipulator, which contradicted what I thought I knew to be true: she was a Higher-Reasoning Talent.

    I jumped to the confrontation with Penny in the Crypto Bank. I heard Penny¡¯s words in my head as she urged me to believe that Mac wasn¡¯t who I thought he was; that Donavon wasn¡¯t the only person lying to me; that I knew what she was saying was true; and that I just needed to look inside myself for the answers, whatever that meant. Erik was there when she was actually arrested, so he probably knew better than I did what actually transpired. I¡¯d been too distraught to process most of it.

    Finally, I relived Penny¡¯s sentencing day. I was too caught up in the memory to bypass the reading of the evidence I¡¯d provided for the formal record. Erik gently rubbed his thumbs across my palms. His touch was a salve to the reopened wounds of Penny¡¯s betrayal.

    My parent¡¯s faces swam through my mind, swirling into undefined shapes. I wanted to hold on to the memory, remember the way they appeared in the vision, but I couldn¡¯t. A tear leaked from the corner of one closed eye and trailed down my cheek. Why couldn¡¯t I bring up the exact vision? Why couldn¡¯t I remember the way my parent¡¯s looked? What had my parents been doing with Crane? Where had we been?

    The harder I concentrated, the fuzzier the images became. It was like there were mental blocks in my brain, keeping me from the memories. The pain reached a tipping point, my heart ripped in two, and suddenly I didn¡¯t want to remember anymore. I tore my hands from Erik¡¯s grasp, covered my face with sweaty palms, and sobbed.

    Erik drew me closer, wrapping his arms protectively around my body, a shield against the torment and confusion of the outside world. He held me so tightly that air had trouble reaching my lungs. I¡¯d been waiting three long, agonizing weeks for this moment. The moment when Erik would hold me and tell me that everything was okay. The moment that I could stop pretending I was happy that the girl I once called my best friend was going to die. The moment when I could tell someone I trusted that I believed Crane knew my parents, just like Penny said. Just like Crane said.

    Dr. Wythe and Mac had tried to convince me that everything Penny told and showed me was a lie; that she¡¯d fabricated the memories; that none of it had actually happened. They said she was one of the few people who knew how precarious my mental state was since Nevada, and she concocted the images of my family to unhinge me further. Dr. Wythe told me that she was a sociopath and took pleasure in watching me unravel. Mac argued that Penny was trying to lure me back to Crane by dangling the temptation of his alleged friendship with my parents like a carrot.

    In the beginning, I actually bought into their convoluted theories. I was so mad and hurt by her lies that I was vulnerable to the suggestions. During my therapy sessions with Dr. Wythe, I even agreed she was a monster. But deep down a part of me always knew she was telling the truth. In my heart, I knew the images were real and not just because I desperately wanted to find some connection to my parents, as Donavon had suggested the one time I brought it up to him. I couldn¡¯t explain how I knew they were real; I just did. They had to be. The pain of loss I felt each time the memories faded further from my mind was too powerful.

    ¡°Tal, Penny lied about so much. How do you know she didn¡¯t lie about knowing your family, too?¡± Erik murmured softly, his mouth right next to my ear.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I replied honestly. ¡°I just feel it.¡±

    ¡°Have you ever had somebody show you fake memories before?¡± he asked tentatively.

    He was working hard not to sound argumentative. He was afraid that I might explode if he openly disagreed with me.

    ¡°Not that I know of,¡± I admitted reluctantly.

    ¡°So how can you be sure hers aren¡¯t?¡± Erik asked gently. I was about to protest, but Erik hurried on before I could open my mouth. ¡°She was obviously unusually adept at using her mimicry. She clearly mastered your manipulation, as well as several other talents.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t believe me,¡± I accused him, pulling back from his embrace, hurt that he wasn¡¯t reassuring me that I wasn¡¯t nuts.

    Erik was the only person I truly trusted and if he didn¡¯t have faith in me, well, that I couldn¡¯t handle.

    ¡°No,¡± he said firmly. ¡°It¡¯s not that I don¡¯t believe you. I am just not sure you¡¯re being objective. You loved her, she was your friend, and you want to believe she knew you and your family, but that doesn¡¯t necessarily make it true.¡± He smoothed my wild curls away from my face and locked his eyes with mine.

    ¡°The memories just feel so real,¡± I said weakly, my resolve weakening under the loving gaze.

    ¡°I know, Tals. I can feel they do, too. But you can implant false memories in other people¡¯s minds and make them believe anything you want. If she had been mimicking you, then she could have done that, too.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± I agreed. ¡°But, Erik, she didn¡¯t implant false memories. She could have, and I would have believed them unquestioningly because I would have thought they were my own. But she didn¡¯t. She showed me her memories. Penny knew my parents. Crane knew my parents.¡±

    Erik¡¯s eyes softened, a flood of mixed emotions swirled like a tidal pool in his confused head. He was on the fence, unsure of what to make of my insistence.

    ¡°Tal, if what Penny showed you really happened, why don¡¯t you have any memory of it? You said you were young, but not a baby. Don¡¯t you think you would remember if you¡¯d met Ian Crane?¡± Erik asked skeptically.

    I swallowed hard. I¡¯d been wondering the same thing. I remembered most of my childhood, or at least I thought I did. If my parents had met with Crane and I was there, I should have my own memory of the encounter. But I didn¡¯t.

    ¡°No¡­Yes¡­I don¡¯t know, Erik. I was really young. How far back can you really remember?¡± I shot back, becoming defensive.

    The rational part of me knew Erik was trying to remain impartial, be the voice of reason. But the part of me that needed validation that I wasn¡¯t crazy for believing Penny felt as though he was attacking me, purposely poking holes in my logic.

    Erik held up his hands in surrender, although he didn¡¯t seem all that surprised by my reaction. ¡°Okay, let¡¯s say for argument¡¯s sake that Penny¡¯s memories are real. What does that actually prove? At one time, maybe Crane was friends with your family.¡± Erik shrugged as if to say, ¡®so what?¡¯ ¡°It doesn¡¯t change the fact that he killed your parents.¡±

    ¡°For me, it does,¡± I said quietly. ¡°I need to know why. If they were friends, then why did Crane order the hit?¡± I boldly met Erik¡¯s gaze, daring him to come up with some answer. I could feel several formulating in his mind, but he pushed them aside and shook his head. ¡°Crane had me strapped to a bed, Erik. He could have killed me, but he didn¡¯t.¡±

    Erik inhaled deeply. ¡°No, I guess not,¡± he said, giving a short snort of laughter. ¡°He gave you seizures instead, let his men shoot you¡ªneither of those is much better.¡±

    ¡°Crane tried to keep his men from shooting at me,¡± I replied absently.

    I didn¡¯t know why I felt the need to defend Crane. Everything Erik said was true. There were even days, particularly when the seizures first started and I was still recovering from the bullet¡¯s damage, that I thought I would have been better off dead. Now only in moments of extreme weakness did I revisit those feelings.

    ¡°And what if it weren¡¯t the injections that made me sick?¡± I continued.

    ¡°The blood transfusion?¡± Erik guessed.

    I nodded. Something about the blood transfusion I¡¯d received didn¡¯t sit right with me. Donavon insisted there was nothing wrong with him; that Mac didn¡¯t want me to know Donavon had given me his blood because it was against protocol. But I knew there was more to it than that. Unfortunately, I didn¡¯t have any clue as to what in Donavon¡¯s blood could be making me sick. He didn¡¯t appear sick. He didn¡¯t have seizures.

    ¡°It¡¯s possible,¡± Erik conceded. Pain drew heavy lines on his beautiful face as he absorbed the fear and confusion that I¡¯d been living with for the past year. He leaned in close, pressing his forehead to mine. ¡°I promise you we will figure all of this out. Okay?¡±

    My lips found his. ¡°Okay,¡± I murmured against his mouth.

    The night had been so exhausting, I couldn¡¯t think straight anymore. All I wanted was to forget about everything except Erik, to lose myself in him.

    The cold, odorous underground station vanished. Thoughts of Penny and Crane and even my parents disappeared. I wrapped my arms around Erik¡¯s neck, pulling all my hundred pounds into his lap as I kissed him deeper. Erik¡¯s hands slid between my jacket and dress, gently kneading the tension knots in my lower back.

    When we finally drew apart, we were both short of breath. I pulled one of his hands from my waist, placing it over my heart. He ran his fingers lightly over the material of my jacket, the warmth of his touch penetrating through the fabric and making my skin tingle.

    He leaned toward me again, resting his chin just above my collarbone. His breath tickled my neck and every tiny hair on my body stood on end as he whispered, ¡°I love you,¡± into my ear.

    ¡°I love you, too,¡± I croaked hoarsely, so overcome by emotion that I was surprised the words were audible.

    Erik held me in his lap for a couple long minutes before I remembered Arden¡¯s warning. The next train was due to come through very shortly and, conductor or not, I didn¡¯t want to be in the station when it did.

 Chapter Eighty-Eight: The One with the High Value Prisoner

    The vibrations in the stagnant air gave me a split-second warning before a horn drowned out the sound of our footsteps. Lights I hadn¡¯t noticed earlier came to life along one side of the platform¡¯s edge. Fear made my hand go clammy in Erik¡¯s. We were so going to get caught.

    I found Erik¡¯s eyes. The train¡¯s headlight illuminated the fear he was trying hard not to show. Uncertainty turned his thoughts anxious. Before I knew it, he was dragging me across the slippery tiles toward the tracks that weren¡¯t illuminated by the headlight of the approaching train. Without hesitation, he leapt onto the tracks, pulling me over the platform¡¯s edge after him. Erik hugged the inner wall, careful not to touch the rails themselves. I struggled to keep pace in my slippery ballet flats, not bothering to be quiet as I followed him into the darkened tunnel.

    Metal screeched against metal as the train pulled up against the platform we¡¯d just vacated. Curiosity mingled with growing fear as we crouched in the blackened space. Erik tried to exude calm, pretending that he was in control of the situation.

    It wasn¡¯t working.

    I could feel his anxiety, and it heightened my own. Despite the cold, he started to sweat. My sense of smell was enhanced and the faint odor of his deodorant mixed with his sweat filled my nostrils. I tried in vain to dull my olfactory senses and breathed only through my mouth.

    The train doors emitted a mechanical whine when they slid apart. Heavy footsteps echoed through the stale air. Beads of cold sweat weaved their way down my back, plastering my dress to my skin. All the surety that I¡¯d had when we told Arden not to worry about us getting caught was gone. I no longer felt confident in my ability to talk our way out of trouble.

    ¡°I thought you said the trains were automatic? That they weren¡¯t manned by conductors?¡± I sent, my growing unease making my mental voice sound strained.

    ¡°They usually aren¡¯t. The train usually just passes through the station,¡± Erik¡¯s mental voice sounded as stressed as I felt.

    ¡°Why did they stop?¡± I demanded, even though I knew that Erik was no more clued in to the situation than I was.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, Tals, but I¡¯m sure they¡¯ll be gone soon,¡± he promised.

    His hand was cold and clammy when he squeezed mine in an attempt to calm my nerves.

    I closed my eyes and counted to ten, inhaling deeply. Relax, Talia. Worst-case scenario, they find us. We weren¡¯t doing anything wrong, really. Sure, we weren¡¯t exactly supposed to be down here, but it wouldn¡¯t be the first time I¡¯d been caught someplace I shouldn¡¯t be. And it certainly wasn¡¯t the first time that Erik had been caught in a prohibited location. Fine. We were going to be fine. I hated having to give myself a mental pep talk.

    Several more sets of footsteps clamored down the metal stairs of the escalators to the platform. I gripped Erik¡¯s hand tighter and he hugged me tight against his side.

    ¡°Warden Arnouse,¡± a deep voice boomed, the words reverberating through the tunnel.

    My breath caught in my throat and my body went rigid. I knew that voice: Mac. Erik recognized Mac¡¯s voice instantly, as well. His entire body tensed, and he swore under his breath.

    ¡°Director, how are you?¡± the man I assumed was Warden Arnouse called back.

    ¡°Doing well,¡± Mac answered.

    The thought of Mac, impeccably dressed in his tailored, navy suit and crisp, white dress shirt, standing amid the filth and squalor of the metro station was almost comical. A bubble of hysterical laughter managed to escape my mouth before I could prevent it.

    ¡°Talia!¡± Erik admonished me.

    ¡°Sorry. I couldn¡¯t help it,¡± I replied, burying my face against his chest to stifle any further outbursts.

    Luckily, my voice hadn¡¯t traveled beyond the depths of our tunnel and neither man heard me.

    ¡°How was the ride from Tramblewood? Has the prisoner spoken?¡± Mac asked back on the platform.

    ¡°Tramblewood!¡± I exclaimed. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± My heart thudded loudly in my chest, and blood roared in my ears.

    Erik didn¡¯t answer. I hadn¡¯t actually expected him to.

    ¡°No, sir. Been nearly comatose the entire way,¡± the Warden said.

    ¡°Excellent. Irene is anticipating your arrival at Rittenhouse within the hour. She has guards standing by as an added precaution, but I do not really expect any trouble,¡± Mac replied.

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    ¡°Neither do I, sir. The drugs should keep TI-912 sedated until Dr. Thistler has taken custody.¡±

    Dr. Thistler? What did she have to do with anything? Dr. Thistler was my doctor. Well, technically she was Head of Medical Research for TOXIC. And Rittenhouse was one of TOXIC¡¯s smaller medical research facilities located in Bethesda, Maryland. That much I knew.

    ¡°Would you like to see TI-912?¡± the Warden asked Mac.

    ¡°Yes!¡± Mac sounded giddy now.

    Uneasiness crawled over my skin like a spider. I didn¡¯t like his tone or the excitement radiating from his thoughts.

    I heard Mac and the Warden board the train. Muffled words followed by uneasy laughter filled the station. What was so funny? Nothing about this situation seemed funny. Maybe if I weren¡¯t pressed against a filthy, damp wall, hiding with the rats, I would have gotten the joke. I concentrated on my auditory senses, straining to hear their low conversation.

    ¡°Information is not the only way you are useful to us,¡± Mac was saying.

    I assumed he was talking to the prisoner. He got no response.

    ¡°What do you have planned for our guest?¡± the Warden asked.

    ¡°Research. I think this just might be the breakthrough we need.¡± Mac¡¯s glee was palpable; the raw desire dripping from his words tasted sour and sickened my stomach.

    This wasn¡¯t the Mac I knew, not even the one who lied and kept secrets from me. This Mac radiated a feverish, almost manic desire for¡­something. Desire to understand what was going on and revulsion over Mac¡¯s intensity warred in my mind.

    Curiosity won out. I plunged into his head. Maybe it was my lack of familiarity with his brain patterns¡ªit had been years since I invaded his thoughts¡ªor his constant vigilance, or even my instructions on blocking mental intrusions, but I couldn¡¯t penetrate his barriers. His thoughts were impossible for me to read, but his feelings were so strong, they sucked me in: Triumph. Determination. Vindication. Relief. I nearly gagged.

    ¡°I will let you be on your way,¡± Mac told the Warden. ¡°Inform me once you have made the delivery.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Director.¡±

    One set of footsteps exited onto the platform. The train doors slid shut with a soft whoosh. I remained glued to the dirty tunnel wall, vaguely aware that Erik¡¯s coat was likely covered in grime. I felt the ridiculous urge to apologize for ruining it.

    The sound of the train coming to life squashed any further thoughts of ruined clothing. I felt, rather than heard, Mac¡¯s retreat from the platform.

    Neither Erik nor I moved, even once the only sound in the station was deafening silence. I tracked Mac using my mind, finally exhaling when I no longer felt his presence.

    ¡°He¡¯s gone,¡± I sent Erik.

    ¡°You sure?¡±

    ¡°Positive. I can¡¯t feel him anymore.¡±

    Tentatively, Erik crept forward. He held up a hand to signal that I should wait when I tried to follow. He walked on his toes, making virtually no noise. The station seemed darker than it had before the train came. My eyes adjusted quickly, though, and I could make out Erik¡¯s form as he jumped, grabbed the platform edge, and pulled himself up in one swift motion. Even though I was confident that Mac was gone, I still held my breath when Erik vanished from sight.

    Just when I had convinced myself something had happened to him, Erik called to me. ¡°All clear.¡±

    I blew out a long exhale. Close one. Anyone else I could have handled. Mac was a different story entirely. And lately he hadn¡¯t been in an exceptionally forgiving mood.

    I jogged to where Erik leaned over the platform, arms extended to help me up. His fingers were slick and I worried he wouldn¡¯t be able to get a firm grip. He hauled me easily over the edge, though.

    ¡°That was close,¡± Erik sent.

    ¡°Yeah, let¡¯s get out of here.¡±

    As we retraced our steps to the surface, my mind wandered to the conversation between Mac and Warden Arnouse. It didn¡¯t make any sense. Admittedly, I didn¡¯t know all that much about The Agency¡¯s prisons or what type of research took place at Rittenhouse. The more I thought about it, the more I realized I didn¡¯t actually know much about The Agency I worked for in general. I thought being a part of the McDonough family made me privy to the inner workings of TOXIC and agency politics. Apparently, I was wrong. None of our dinner table conversations had centered on prisoners or using them for human guinea pigs. The thought made me shudder. What sort of research was The Agency conducting that they needed human test subjects?

    ¡°When Mac said they were going to use the prisoner for research, what did he mean?¡± I asked Erik.

    ¡°You probably don¡¯t want to know,¡± Erik sent back, his grip on my hand tightening.

    That was what I was afraid of. But I did want to know. I hated how ignorant I was. For years, I had thought TOXIC did great things for the Talented: Protected our rights. Gave us jobs. And even more importantly, they protected the entire country from threats. But at what cost?

    ¡°Does The Agency use human test subjects a lot?¡± I asked as we started up the first escalator.

    Erik seemed conflicted, like he wasn¡¯t sure how much he should say.

    ¡°Does The Agency use human test subjects regularly?¡± I repeated, growing angry at the thought that maybe I was the only one that didn¡¯t know the dirty little secret.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know for sure, Tals. Some people think that they do. Some people think that the School and TOXIC are just one big experiment. Let¡¯s just say that it doesn¡¯t surprise me that they are sending a prisoner to a research facility.¡±

    I didn¡¯t like his answer. I wanted Erik to be as appalled as I was. The fact that he wasn¡¯t sent Crane¡¯s words flying through my mind: You have no idea what your Agency does to innocent people.

    ¡°Conditions at the prisons, particularly Tramblewood, are not good. I¡¯ve heard that some inmates go crazy after years without sunlight and proper nutrition. The Agency may be conducting a study on the long-term effects of incarceration.¡±

    ¡°Maybe,¡± I replied, noncommittally.

    I knew Erik meant to comfort me by suggesting a benign alternative to the nightmarish scenarios parading through my thoughts, and I might have bought it if I hadn¡¯t been absorbing Mac¡¯s feelings. Whatever research Mac had planned for TI-912 was serious and vital to The Agency.

    By the time we made it back to the gate, the adrenaline rush that came with our near miss was gone, replaced by confusion and frustration. I would find out what Mac was up to. I just had to wait until his guard was down. Then I could infiltrate his thoughts. In theory, it should be easy. In practice, I doubted it would be.