Stunned (The Lucidites Book 2) (22 page)

I’m not the least bit relieved to learn its Joseph. His bloodshot eyes barely make contact with me when he sits down.

“You’re hungover?!” I say in offensive disbelief.

Joseph grimaces in pain. “Yes. Can you keep it down?”

“I can’t believe this!” I pound my fist on the desk. “This is ridiculous!”

“Warned you I was gonna screw up again and again.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “This is not the time for screwing up.”

“Joseph doesn’t care if we have a vital mission,” Samara says behind me. I turn to find she’s taken a seat three rows back and appears as angry as I feel. “He only cares about himself, isn’t that right?”

“You’d know better than anyone how I think, Samara,” Joseph says, a cold animosity in his tone.

The door to the lecture hall slides back. I turn around as soon as I spy George. Hopefully there’s enough emotion in this room to occupy his attention. He slips into the seat beside me. All night I tormented myself with guilt for kissing him on the eve of this mission. Now that he’s close, I yearn to reach out and kiss him again, using passion as an outlet from my fears. Just his presence changes the way my heart beats.

My eyes lead my chin up until they find their target. The look on his face undoes something in me I’m certain was fastened tightly in place. Unsurprisingly he’s chewing on his lip.
Damn those lips.
I’m too accustomed to his probe that I know right now he’s dissecting me from the inside out. George leans forward, a stern expression on his face. I clench my eyes shut, so afraid he’s going to reprimand me for my guilt.

“Good morning, Roya,” he whispers, his breath brushing my ear.

I peel open my eyes, looking at him sideways. He’s all stone. “Good morning, George.” Gracefully he leans back in his seat, never taking his firm gaze off me. The knot in my throat is preventing me from speaking, which is good because I’d probably regret anything I’d let spill from my mouth right now.

“The Grotte!” Ren says, charging to the front of the room. “That’s where you’ll be vacationing tonight.” His laugh is cold. “Everyone loves a good holiday in the south of France, but I’m here to tell you that it’s no picnic. The service at the Grotte is awful, the rooms are dark and cold, and the locals make you want to stab yourself…literally.”

“Why are we just now covering the Grotte? Seems like something we should have gone over before the day of the mission,” Joseph says, lacking decorum. Is he
still
drunk?

“I wanted the information to be fresh.” Ren places his fingertip on the surface of the desk in the center of the platform and traces along it as he walks. “It’s charming you think knowing about the Grotte sooner than today was going to benefit you. Judging by your appearance, Joseph, I don’t think it matters much what you know about the Grotte, except that it will be your final resting place.” Ren flashes his eyes on Pearl. “Don’t waste your efforts healing Joseph. He’s not worth it.”

“If that time comes,” I say, ripping Ren’s attention in my direction, “that will not be your call. It will be mine.”

“Brav-freaking-o,” Ren says. “You’ve decided to start acting like a leader, Roya. Way to wait until the last possible moment to rise to the challenge.”

I taper my eyes, not taking them off Ren. “The Grotte. Tell us what we need to know. Now.”

“Well, since you’ve got your knickers in a wad already, I suppose I should,” Ren says, his calm superiority blistering the room with irritation. He gives a bored sigh. “The Grotte is a network of caves that have been crudely constructed into the Voyageurs’ headquarters. The lighting is awful, but there’s some. The layout is a confusing mess, but oddly has some logic. And the security is absolutely laughable.”

Over the next hour we learn how to navigate the Grotte. Ren has a series of slides that outline the various routes we’ll take to the central rooms. I pay special attention to where the GAD-C is located and other rooms that will possibly be where Aiden is imprisoned. When we have completed this portion of the lesson Ren lays a blue and white map on my desk and retreats.

“It will probably be too dark to read it, but that’s a rough sketch of the Grotte,” he says with zero emotion.

“If it’s so dark,” Trent says, “then why don’t we bring flashlights?”

Ren’s pretending to clean his nails with his pocket knife. I know from just spying his nails when he placed the map on my desk that they’re perfectly clean. He does this little act to make us feel small and to belittle the current topic. “Well, wise one,” Ren says, “the reason you shouldn’t outfit yourself with this battery-operated technology is because the Voyageurs don’t use it. They’re going to have a hard time explaining to themselves why people using technology they refuse are skipping around on their turf. You’ll remember that I said they’re primitive. They believe that electricity and battery-operated devices leech their mental powers. For this reason the only electricity in the entire joint is in the GAD-C room. The rest of the place is lit by fire, warmed using coal, and secured using mental prowess. So no, I’d recommend that you not carry a torch, your iPod, or any other trendy device that will make you stand out in their evil minds. Bring a match, how about that?”

Once Ren has completely beaten us down he launches into the strategy we’ll follow. It’s quite simple, but I know all too well how one little hitch can unravel it. We each have a specific mission and purpose at all times, which changes as we enter each new phase of the plan. Furthermore, we’re divided up into sub-teams in case we need to separate. My team member is of course Joseph, which should have been a good thing but under the present circumstances makes me feel like a sluggish target.

♦

Knowing I need the sustenance, I eat, although each bite threatens to come back up. Joseph sits at the table with the white coats, while Samara steams next to me. Trent and George talk over strategy, but continuously I feel George’s eager gaze on me. After a few minutes I turn to Pearl and ask, “So, I’ve been meaning to ask you where you’re from.”

She looks startled, like a bunny who’s been cornered. Pushing her hair behind her ear she says, “I grew up here. My mom is Mae, the Head of the Healing Department.”

“Here? At the Institute?” I say a bit louder than I intended.

“Yes,” she says meekly.

After Trey told me that Joseph and I were separated at birth for our own protection I questioned why we weren’t raised here. He made that seem like an impossibility. He said that the Institute wasn’t the right place to raise a child. It seemed to be good enough for Pearl and Aiden.
Why?

“But I thought children couldn’t be raised here at the Institute. Aiden said he was an exception.”

George’s eyes flick to mine at the mention of Aiden’s name. I focus on Pearl.

She shrugs. “He’s right. And so was I. We actually spent a lot of time together growing up, since we were the only kids here.”

A knot tightens in my throat. “Oh, you two must be close.”

Regret marks her eyes when she nods her head. “We were, but after his parents died he became really involved with his work and we drifted apart. Still, I’ve always felt a special bond to him, since we grew up together.”

“I’m sorry, this mission must be difficult for you.”
Maybe you shouldn’t go.

“It is, but I couldn’t imagine not being on this team. I want to be there when we rescue Aiden. I have to see him with my own eyes before I’ll stop worrying. And I’m grateful that I’ve honed my healing abilities enough that I’ll be able to help him if he’s hurt.”

My breaths are shallow and unfulfilling. George isn’t hiding his curiosity anymore. He pinches the corner of his mouth together and stares at me, then Pearl. I’d give a million dollars right now to know what emotions he’s picking up in Pearl. Is she in love with Aiden? The idea is infuriating.

“Trey said Aiden’s parents were killed by Voyageurs. What happened?”

Pearl looks down suddenly. “I don’t think it’s my place to tell that story. Aiden may not want me to…” Her eyes glaze over a bit as she trails off.

I want to yell at her, tell her no one is closer to him than me. But it’s not true. At least I can’t confirm it. Apparently I hardly know the guy I’m about to risk my life to save.

I push away my irritation with a fake smile. “Well, tell me about growing up in the Institute. What was that like?”

“About how you’d imagine, I’m sure.”

“How would you know what I’d imagine?” I say, irritation edging into my tone.

She blanches. “I meant that it was different than a normal childhood, I’ve gathered that much from reading books. If it wasn’t for Aiden then I would have spent most of those years alone in this place, since all the adults were always busy working. But unlike Aiden I didn’t come into my ability to dream travel until recently. He at least was able to escape.”

“Yes, I understand he started dream traveling very young,” I say as casually as I can muster.

She eyes me skeptically. “Yes, that’s true. Once he became obsessed with dream traveling I spent my free time reading religious texts.”

“A hobby of yours?”

“Religion isn’t a hobby,” she revolts.

Inside I smile, knowing I’ve irritated her. Tit for tat.

“So were you the one who showed George the library?” I ask.

“Yes,” she says with a nod. “It’s a really wonderful place. My favorite place.”

“Yes, it’s great,” I say, looking at him as he stares back at me. “It’s your favorite place too, isn’t it, George?”

He gives me a calculated look, one that admonishes my catty behavior and also my jealously.

“Well, thanks for the chat, Pearl. Now I must go study the map.” I push off from the table feeling like the most awful leader in the world. To resent one of the greatest assets on my team right at the eleventh hour is the worst possible thing I can do. Still, the look in her eyes when she spoke about Aiden and her obvious closeness with George make an irresistible rage flow through me. I wish I’d never asked Pearl any questions. Ten minutes ago, before I knew anything that she told me, I was only bordering on insanity over two guys. Now I’m a hundred miles past the brink.

♦

From Bob

Bob and Steve

to Roya Stark

Dear Roya,

I have something I’ve been meaning to share with you and the timing is finally right now, although I don’t know why. It’s an intuition.

I’ve always known we were supposed to find you. Then Trey asked us to seek you out. But when we did, a puzzle piece fell into place for me. I’d been searching for that piece for a long time and had no idea it would be you.

Over a decade ago I had a dream. In this dream I saw a child floating in water. She was beautiful and radiant. The energy from her pulsed through the lake until it built up a current. The child rode easily on these rapids. Then in an instant she was a girl and swam through these waters, allowing it to propel her to a nearby beach. Once there she stood up and the earth buckled under her as if there had been a small earthquake. She wasn’t unnerved by this experience. Instead she stood steady, looking down upon the beach and the water. The lake raged angrily as it rocked the beach. Another quake hit the shore, causing the waters to stir and grow higher. The girl stayed firm, watching as the ground and the waters battled each other. Finally she spoke, “In the end, you’ll thank me for this!” Then the girl became a gust of wind and barreled through the water, breaking all its currents down to nothing. She shot back at the beach, sending the bits of earth that were about to vibrate into a quake into a million bits of nothing. The wind dissipated the storm until the area stood calm and still and at peace.

At the time I didn’t know what the dream meant, only that the girl was of importance. When I met you I was in awe of you for many reasons, but mostly because without a doubt I knew you were the girl from my dream. You’re the wind. I don’t know why and I don’t know how this will aid you, but for a person who knows nothing about where she came from, I hope this helps.

Love,

Bob

I’m the wind?!
What could that possibly mean? Is that the element I should align with, like some Native American tradition? I close my email without replying and head back to my room. I know Bob is trying to help, but why right before the mission did he send me an email with some cryptic meaning? And did he mean I looked like the woman in the dream or that he supposed it was me based on his gut? I round the corner, stuck in my current confusion.

“You’re a selfish asshole,” Samara screams, tears in her eyes.

“That’s an easy position for you to take,” Joseph says. “If I knew what was in everyone’s head I’d be passin’ a lot of judgments too.”

“I wish I’d never met you,” she says, taking a step forward, and for a second I think she’s going to push him.

I think he knows this too and backs away. “The feeling is one hundred percent mutual.”

“Why?” she says, tears racing down her face. “Why are you doing this?”

“I’m doin’ what I choose,” Joseph says. “You’re choosing how you feel about it. Don’t you see, we all have choices and that’s all we’ve got in life.”

“You’re an—”

“Stop!” I interrupt.

Both of them turn to me, surprised and slightly horrified.

“That’s quite enough,” I say. “It’s obvious Joseph isn’t making good decisions,” I say to Samara. “And it’s obvious that Samara doesn’t agree with how you’re conducting yourself.” I look at Joseph and hold his gaze. “If you survive tonight then you can battle this out for the rest of your lives. However”—I round on the both of them, angrier than I’ve felt in a long time—“do not be so selfish that you choose to put all your energy into this fight when there are better and greater ones. I’m sorry you two are at odds, but find a way to put it aside, if only for a little while, so that we can operate as a team tonight. Look at each other and find that one thing you respect about the other person and focus on just that. Forget the cheating and the rest of it.”