Caged (Talented Saga) (34 page)

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 – at least to me – they 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 Thirty-One

“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 – mine.

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 – “fair”, “acceptable”, or “extreme” – that 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 when 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 – worst of all – boring.

“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.

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 – Erik 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 – I – I 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 –”

“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.