Stunned (The Lucidites Book 2) (6 page)

“Then why do you want it back?” I ask.

“It’s just so I can update it with more music,” he says, striding in front of me and twirling me around in an impromptu dance. “We have to keep your education in music going, right?”

I’m startled by his casual, romantic nature. It makes me feel I’m the only girl he spins in these hallways, but am I? With a jerk I yank my hand from his. He stops, tilts his head sideways at me, confused disappointment written on his face. Ignoring him, I stride into his lab.

“I’ll be right back,” he says in a promising voice.

I make excuses to myself for why I should be there. These are then followed by a round of insults from another part of me.

You’re weak. A fool. Leave and don’t look back.

I’m about to push forward on the balls of my toes and rush away when Aiden’s voice sings to me from the back of his lab. “I can’t think of anyone I’m more excited to share this new technology with.”

A pocket of air sticks in my throat. I can’t push it out or swallow it. I’m frozen, torn.

A minute later Aiden strides from the back of his lab carrying a large box. Swallowing the uncomfortable feeling in my throat, I focus on the box, on his hands, on anything but his eyes. He pulls a silver helmet from the cardboard box. It’s molded like a head, compact and sleek. “This is my newest invention,” Aiden says, wearing a cunning smile. “It sends a signal to the prefrontal lateral cortex, preventing the wearer from being able to dream travel. In the past it’s been impossible to imprison evildoers like Zhuang because they could always dream travel away, thwarting our attempts at justice. But with this, we can finally capture whoever we need to. It’s called a dream blocker. Pretty neat, huh?”

“Is this what you’ve been working on with George?”

Aiden deflates. “No,” he says promptly. Slowly, as if brought on by a realization, a sly smile spreads across his face. “So you think this is what we’ve been…” He hesitates, head sideways. “Never mind, no, this isn’t it.”

“Wait. What are you talking about? What’s the project you’re working on with George?” I ask, confused.

“I thought you already knew.”

“I don’t.”

“Well then, what are you mad about?” He puts the dream blocker down and looks at me with his arms crossed.

“You first. Tell me what the project is with George.”

“If you don’t know then I can’t be the one to tell you. Trey has been very clear that it’s to remain confidential. I’m sorry.”

“That’s ridiculous,” I mumble.

“Don’t even concern yourself with it. It’s an ancillary project.” His eyes light up again. “So what do you think about the dream blocker?”

My mind is all over the place now. I can’t focus. “Is Joseph working on this ancillary project with you guys?”

“Errrrgh….No,” he says with a frustrated growl. Somehow we’ve gotten miles away from music and romance. “No,” he repeats. “Joseph isn’t involved. But that’s not what we’re talking about. I was asking about the dream blocker. What do you think?”

Confusion muddles my thoughts. It doesn’t make any sense that this project with George is so secretive. And now I’m really wondering what Joseph is up to.

Footsteps interrupt the little bit of focus I have remaining. In unison we turn our heads to the entrance. “Oh, Aiden, where are you, Aiden? Where’s my favorite per—” Amber’s broad smile drops the moment she rounds the corner and sees the two of us standing and looking at her, bewildered. “I didn’t know you had company. My apologies,” she says to me with a nod of her head, her silver earrings gently swaying with the movement. “Good to see you, Roya,” she says.

“Is it?” I say. I’ve never been good at pretenses.

She recoils a bit. Her eyes dart to the dream blocker, then to me and then to Aiden. “Were you showing her the dream blocker?” she asks, a hint of concern in her voice.

“I was,” Aiden says, looking straight at me.

Amber turns to me. “It’s pretty incredible, don’t you think? Aiden is sooooo brilliant.”

I don’t look at her or answer; instead I stay focused on Aiden. He looks like his shoes are suddenly too tight.

“Well, it’s advanced technology, so it may be a bit difficult for non-scientists to understand,” she says, condescension laden in her tone.

I swivel around to face Amber. “Surprisingly, I was able to understand the concept fairly well without my head exploding.”

She gives me a snobbish smirk and turns to address Aiden. “I was really hoping to discuss something with you. At your earliest convenience would you please come by my office?”

“Yeah, sure,” Aiden says in a clipped voice.

“Oh good,” she says, rubbing her neck. “I’m so sorry if I’ve interrupted you two.”

“No worries. I’ll come and see you in a little while.”

“Thanks,” she says, her voice sounding pained as she massages her neck with more vigor. “Ow, my neck. I’m so sore from being hunched over, doing all those reports that you asked for, Aiden.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, but it’s necessary. Those reports are crucial.”

“I know you’re right. You’re always right. I’ll get it done for you. And maybe you can help me out again with another massage,” she says, and then to my horror she winks at him. Blatantly, f-ing winks. “The last time you did, it was really helpful.”

The color drains from Aiden’s face. I draw a long breath in through my nostrils, trying not to let my jealously become apparent.

“Well, see you later, Roya,” Amber says, tossing her ponytail over her shoulder as she prances out of the lab.

Whirling in Aiden’s direction, I lower my chin and shoot an accusatory stare at him. If he didn’t know why I was mad before, he knows now. Unable to stomach looking at him any longer I start for the door.

He catches my wrist, spinning me around. “Look, Roya, I don’t know what you think is going on.”

Swiftly I break clean of his grasp. “I think it’s pretty clear.”

“Not to me,” he says.

“Well, you’re an idiot.” That’s for sure the first time he’s ever been called that.

“I’ve never given her a massage. I swear to it.”

“Why would your employee say such a thing?!”

“I don’t have a clue.”

“You don’t have a clue, or you don’t want to tell me?”

“I don’t know, Roya. Seriously. I don’t know. You have to believe me. She’s lying. I’ve never touched her.”

“Why would she lie? In front of me?”

He shakes his head. “I sincerely don’t know.” I have to give him credit, he does look the part—completely puzzled.

“So you didn’t meet her the other night? You didn’t take her up on her invite and have ‘fun’?” I say, my arms tightly crossed in front of me.

If he ever had a case it’s gone now. Sunk to the bottom of the ocean. I see it in his face. And it deflates any hopes I had too.

“I thought the whole team was supposed to be there. I didn’t know it would just be the two of us. I didn’t know…” He stops, having read the look in my eyes. It says what my mouth doesn’t:
I don’t believe you.

“Do we really have to be discreet because of your position? Or is it so you can play me? And Amber? And who else?”

“No, Roya. It’s not like that.”

“Really? I can’t get more than a few minutes with you. And you’re off…” I close my eyes, feeling the heartbreak finally set in. Such a fool to ever believe him. Such a fool. Opening my eyes I find Aiden staring at me regretfully. He’s on the edge of saying something; his mouth is about to open and make excuses. Excuses I’ll believe. He’ll make this all go away. Then he’ll do it again. I won’t be made a fool though. I turn and stalk off before he has a chance to manipulate me the way he always does.

“Please don’t do this,” he calls as I approach the exit. I continue my march. “Don’t storm off like this,” he insists, but I remain focused on my path. “Let’s work this out between us.”

I halt. Turn. Find his blue eyes. I want to ensure he understands what I say and doesn’t question it. I will not be made into a fool, not by him or anyone. “Aiden, there is no ‘us.’”

Chapter Eight

T
he treadmill takes my abuse without complaint. Each stride hisses with anger. Each beat of my feet drums with hostility. I am so furious with Aiden that I don’t even use the iPod he gave me. I just run and try to find solace in the sound of my feet pounding against the treadmill. If George senses me down here enraged, then he’s decided to give me some space. I’m glad for that.

After dinner, I decide I’ve let off enough steam that I’m willing to be somewhat sociable. Samara and I lie on the floor of her room exchanging details of our reports.

“I investigated this elderly man. I’m not sure why he was of importance though. He’d been kicked out of his run-down little house by some guy with an accent. I followed the old man around for half an hour and listened to his thoughts,” Samara says as she braids a strand of her hair. “Then he was thinking about all sorts of unrelated stuff that I’m certain wasn’t important. I probably should have disconnected at that point, but I was afraid I’d miss something.”

“Who was the old man? And who was the guy with the accent?” I ask, intrigued.

“Haven’t got a clue,” Samara says, finishing the braid. “Truthfully, I love investigative reporting, but I wish I could news report like you. Discovering reports has to be so much cooler.”

“Yeah, well, different doubts go along with my line of work. So far the only report I’ve logged said it was unverifiable. Who knows if I’m picking up on anything of use. My wild imagination is probably making it all up.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it so much. My guess is your reports will be authenticated…maybe by me.”

“I was wondering, and you might know, why do we only log one report a day? Why not try to find as many newsworthy events as we can?” I say.

“I’m guessing it’s because it’s draining and risky. However, as an investigative reporter I’m given a few stories each day.”

“Oh, really.”

I share with Samara what I saw. She listens intently and flinches when I tell her about the French girl throwing a knife at me.

“Oh my god, that’s totally gruesome,” she shrieks when I’m done. “What do you think that’s all about?”

“I haven’t got a clue. This whole thing is so new to me. But I’m wondering if in time I’ll pick up a pattern,” I say.

“What do you mean?” she asks, frowning.

“Well, it’s the second time I’ve seen the girl, so I suspect I’m seeing events that are connected.”

“That does make sense,” she muses. “Sooooo, to change the subject.” Her voice is hesitant.

“Yes?” I ask with dread.

“Well, I know it’s a secret and all, and you can always blame it on my telepathy if you need to. Anyway, I’m dying to know what’s going on with Aiden.”

“He’s toast as far as I’m concerned,” I say. I tell her about our fight and Amber, and how I really wish he’d drop off the face of the Institute.

“It sounds like she was trying to make you jealous. Do you think she knows about you and him?”

“I doubt it. He made it pretty clear that no one should know. His precious reputation could be harmed.”

She gives me a regretful frown. “He was obviously looking for some praise on his new device.”

“Yeah, I know,” I say.

“But you’ve got too much going on to know you need to stroke his ego,” she says.

I bristle at what almost sounds like an insult. “Hey, whose side are you on?” I ask. Then I chew on my lip. “He drives me crazy. How can he make me feel incredibly drawn and repulsed to him at the same time? And his act is so freaking convincing. I really thought he…” The heartache cuts off my sentence prematurely. “I’m not going to allow him to make me a fool, that’s all.”

“I know how you feel,” she says, staring off at the far wall, a strong emotion in her words.

My guess is my flash was accurate and Joseph visited her last night. I’m not sure why he’s visiting her and ignoring me. I’m actually more irritated than hurt.

“Did you by chance see Joseph last night?”

She wiggles her nose. “Nope.”

I’m not certain why she’s lying to me about this, but I suspect Joseph has put her up to it. I also suspect that he’s got her completely wrapped around his finger. He’s pretty convincing like that, but not on me.

“So are you going to tell me about the ‘complicated’ situation with George?” Samara asks, using air quotes.

I really don’t see why I should share anything with her about my personal life if she won’t even tell me she’s dating my brother. However, some people are governed by the law of reciprocation. I’m hoping Samara is one of them. And besides, I could use some advice.

“As you know, George kind of likes me and—”

Abrupt laughter erupts from Samara. “Roya, he’s completely enamored by you. You do know that, right?”

I sigh.

“Let me set you straight, if you don’t know. George is captivated by you,” she says.

“I thought you read thoughts, not emotions,” I say.

“Yes, and you’re all he really thinks about.”

I draw in a long breath, feeling suddenly heavy.

“Yeah, well, it’s more complicated than him just
liking
me.”

She rolls her eyes.

“George knows how to give me exactly what I want most of the time. He’s so acquainted with my emotions and we share an unmatched intimacy because of that. However, I can’t offer him the same. I don’t know what he wants. And I feel like I’m going to disappoint him, either because I’m such a moron when it comes to love or because I’m terrified when it comes to relationships.”

“And to make things even more complicated, there’s the whole Aiden factor.”

I cut my eyes at her. “Aiden is not a factor.”
Not anymore.

Samara stares off at the ceiling, seeming deep in thought. “You know, you should really—” A knock at the door cuts her off. She shoots into a sitting position, her eyes wide. “Stay here,” she commands. I have absolutely no intention of doing that.

In an instant she’s on her feet, racing to the door. She hits the button and the door slides back. My knees almost lose the strength to hold me up. The image of my brother makes me think I’ll crumble. Disbelief is the only thing keeping me upright. Pain roars through me and I know it’s his pain. Weakness overwhelms me and I know it’s his weakness. But his thoughts are shrouded in a cloud. Lost to me.