Disciple: DreamWalkers, Book 2 (18 page)

“Good, because that would complicate matters. Again.” Karen shifted her attention to Adi. “And you, Adishakti Sharma—you yearn for knowledge, but you aren’t sure if you can trust me. I won’t lie. You’re right to be wary. All the more reason for reinforcements, don’t you think? I’ll lower my requirement to five L5s instead of ten, and one can be you.”

“I’ll assign whatever guards I feel are necessary,” Adi said sternly. “You shan’t dictate the terms.”

“If you don’t want a curator involved, you’ll get those L5s,” Karen insisted. This was not the same woman who’d been sobbing and begging for hours. “We need them. We need them—we need you—for protection if you insist on forcing me back into the sphere, not to mention the girl.” She tugged her white-blond hair in a gesture eerily reminiscent of Zeke, like someone who’d spent a lot of time around him might do. Like Maggie had, only recently, found herself doing. “I’m not asking for favors. I don’t want amnesty or forgiveness. This isn’t blackmail. It’s vigilance. Put me under as much guard as you can spare. Then spare some more.”

“And you swear, after matriculation, you will show me the healing ritual?” Adi asked. “Or will you renew your demand for a curator tomorrow?”

“No,” Karen said. “I want this over with. Zeke can matriculate me so I can link to other alucinators. I was close to graduation when the Master caught me the first time. Then I’ll do as you ask.”

Adi’s goal had been to achieve a full link with Karen in order to assess her skills and honesty in the first place. The snag was the involvement of additional people who might be exposed to the truth about the healing magic—and who knew what else.

“How long will we need the L5s?” Adi asked.

“Not long,” Karen said. “I don’t want to return there. Ever. Not with the things he made me do. Promise me I’ll be given a lobotomy afterwards.”

The request surprised Maggie. Karen actually seemed to want a lobotomy—to be separated from the dreamsphere that gave her a power beyond regular humans. What did the demand mean about Karen’s honesty and motives? Now that Maggie knew the good she could do for the world with the Somnium, she couldn’t imagine losing the alucinator part of herself.

Adi responded evenly. “I promise.”

As if her supervillain act was nothing but bravado, Karen slumped into her chair and clasped her hands at her chest. Her eyelids lowered. In a whisper, she said, “Then I suggest you recruit your best L5s. We shouldn’t risk the entire world just because you want answers. Do we have a deal?”

“We do,” Adi said, and Maggie’s stomach bottomed out.

Why, she wasn’t sure. It made sense to summon reinforcements when dealing with Karen Kingsbury. Hell, it made sense to summon reinforcements when they’d experienced a cryptic code one. But since this was what Karen recommended, it couldn’t be good.

Chapter Twelve

“Little man, this had better be over with soon.” Lillian, an unusually worried expression on her face, clapped Zeke on the shoulder. “I was about to log an entire weekend of vacation when Adi summoned me. Do you realize how long it’s been since I took a vacation?”

“Couple years?” he guessed, disassembling his gun for a quick check. Lill and a former disciple of hers, an L5 named Candace Merriweather who worked the Gulf Coast these days, had arrived at the coma station mid-afternoon and had been redirected to the outbunker before they even got to take a piss. “What were you going to do, anyway? Cook? That ain’t a vacation.”

“For your information, I had reservations at a new fusion restaurant in DC. And a date. So shut it.”

Lillian, who’d been briefed on the situation, would swing double duty tonight as Maggie’s crutch and one of Karen’s guardians. Candace was another guardian, along with Blake—Zeke was surprised the guy was an alucinator, much less L5—and Sergeant Roberts, who commanded unit fifteen. It had taken Adi hours choose since anyone involved would be drawn into the mystery of the speed healing that she’d been trying to keep hidden.

Adi trusted Lill and Blake, but Candace and Roberts were a gamble.

“Maggie’s shield improved,” he told Lill. “It may hold, and all this worrying is for nothing. If it don’t hold, Maggie’s just gotta keep her conduit locked so we don’t get manifestations. I figure you can talk her through any panic.” Meanwhile, he’d be linked with Karen, making sure she couldn’t tear off and vigil-trap Maggie.

Lillian glanced at Maggie, shoved in the far corner of the common room where most of them were going to bunk during the mass trance. Not Maggie, though. Her sleep tonight would be natural. She should be in no danger as long as she kept herself buttoned up.

Legs crossed and expression bland, Maggie was paying more attention to the book in her lap than the hubbub around her.

“We’re assuming I can orate with her,” Lill said. “The other times she’s done that, you were there.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem.” A tangible could influence abilities in unpredictable ways, but he had confidence Lill and Maggie could communicate. Whether or not he’d been able to sense her, Maggie had still overheard Karen and Adi in the sphere. She’d relayed sentences she couldn’t have picked up any other way. Her shield deficiencies were her Achilles heel. Her progress in other areas wasn’t lacking.

If she could crush wraiths in the dreamsphere, she may have progressed beyond standard measurement. Could her disappearing off everyone’s radar be an aspect of that skill, enabling her to sneak up on wraiths undetected or something? Worth a thought, though it wouldn’t solve much if they couldn’t bypass it.

“You better not let her get hurt,” he told Lillian. “When she’s asleep, she can’t get hurt-hurt, but it would be bad news if she manifested.” If she lost her grip on her conduit, there would be consequences beyond the danger of wraiths.

“You think I’ll bring a curator down on us?” Lillian joked. “Not hardly.”

“Just remember what I said about Maggie’s signature not showing up.” With Adi’s primary concern being Karen and the healing, they hadn’t discussed Maggie’s invisibility in any detail.

In fact, Adi had let Zeke know in no uncertain terms he was to concentrate entirely on Karen until she matriculated. Not only that, but he had to be nice to her.

It rankled.

Lill nodded. “Once I find Maggie in the sphere, I’ll tell you, like we agreed.”

They both avoided glancing at Karen. Adi, Constance, Blake and Roberts discussed their plans while guards came and went. Karen clutched a pillow to her chest and listened with wide eyes, when she wasn’t staring at Zeke. During the dreamspace mission, they’d have a soldier in the terra firma stationed beside each alucinator, a medic on duty, and more guards strategically placed around and outside the bunker.

Adi and her staff had pre-defined the situation as code two. They weren’t taking any chances. Nobody had said it out loud, but Maggie was the one the fools were worried about. They should be worried about Karen.

“The first time a phase two hits the sphere alone is always shaky.” Zeke considered what Maggie could expect tonight. He wanted it to be smooth for her, to knock the heat off her and aim it where it should be. “She won’t have a mentor waiting for her like other phase twos. She’s gonna have to endure things other disciples don’t, but she’ll still be judged.”

“Her training has been irregular since day one,” Lillian said. “She handled it better than most would have.”

“Wish you could have linked with her that first night.” When he and his team had realized he’d formed a tangible with the neo they’d just collared—Maggie—they’d tried to assign Lill as her mentor, considering what had happened the last time Zeke had had a tangible with a disciple. Unfortunately, Lill hadn’t been able to synch with Maggie, forcing Zeke to step up. “I bet everyone would be better off.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Lill fingered a scar on her arm. “This shit with Karen would still have come to a head, and you wouldn’t have Maggie to see you through it.”

“She’s my disciple. It’s my job to see her through things.” He re-snapped the clip into his gun. “I’m supposed to have answers, not make it worse for her.”

He couldn’t tell Lill, not here, what Maggie thought she’d done—killed two wraiths in the trance sphere. Lill knew about the carcasses, but no one had mentioned the Antipodes scroll. After a code one where wraiths had desecrated the morgue and killed several alucinators, a couple of outlier carcasses weren’t top priority. They’d been shipped off to the manifestation tank along with the live ones.

“I’ll do what I can for Maggie,” Lill assured him. “Smartest thing for you to do is act like you don’t care.”

“I do care. People could die if we don’t shut this down. We gotta figure out what’s really going on.” Zeke finished cleaning the pistol and slid it back into the holster. He wouldn’t be removing his weapons until this situation was settled. Might make sleeping uncomfortable, but so would being anywhere near Karen.

He also wouldn’t be removing his weapons to shower, which meant he wouldn’t bathe until this situations was settled either. He didn’t give a shit. Karen could choke on his funk.

“Not about that.” Lill, seated close enough that their voices didn’t carry, bumped him with her knee. “Don’t let on about you and Maggie.”

“There is no me and Maggie.” He had no idea how their relationship would transform after this morning—and the all-hands-down best sex of his life. Not because it was the kinkiest foreplay or the spurtiest orgasm or because the woman had brought him a sandwich afterward, but because it had felt so…emotional.

He shouldn’t have admitted the emotions to Maggie. He could feel that damn lump in his throat right now, just looking at her, which was better than a more obvious lump in his pants.

“It’s written all over your stupid face,” Lill whispered. Zeke gritted his teeth. “I know how you feel about her, but this is not the time. The psycho watches every move you make. Hide it better.”

Zeke pulled out a dagger and tested the edge on his thumb. Yeah, Karen was watching him. Studying everything he did with her hollow, desperate eyes. Waiting, just waiting, until she got to plaster herself all over him when they tranced. Despite Adi’s orders, he’d been pretending she didn’t exist. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I remember how jealous Karen is. You want her to figure it out? It’s bad enough she’s glaring at me like she wishes I’d drop dead,” Lill muttered. “All I’m doing is sitting next to you.”

“You announced to the room if she took one step outta line, you were going to kill her,” Zeke said. Lill could try—she’d have to beat him to it.

“Yeah, so?” Lill had voiced her opinion of Karen’s continued existence in no uncertain terms. Funny—unlike when Zeke or Adi voiced their doubt, Karen hadn’t shed a single tear at the female sentry’s matter-of-fact hatred.

“She’s dangerous to all of us, no matter what I say about Maggie,” he said. “I don’t believe the snake oil she’s selling. Master wraith, my left nut.”

“Can’t deny about the healing, though.” Lill propped her elbows on her knees and her chin on her hands. He had to lean over to hear her. “That part I believe. We know she can do shit she shouldn’t be able to. She vigil-trapped you in Harrisburg, and that skill never gets passed around. If Adi won’t teach me, nobody’s gonna teach some random L5 disciple. I don’t think we can discount everything Karen says—even about her big bad.”

“I never said I was discounting everything.” He wished he could, but the discrepancies and irregularities in Karen’s story hinted at some truths—and more truths as yet uncovered.

“A leader of wraiths doesn’t go against some philosophies about the dreamsphere, you know. Many believe wraiths are representatives of a greater evil.”

“That’s fringe group claptrap,” he said dismissively, though he’d considered it too.

Sentient wraiths with a sentient leader were a crisis Zeke could barely wrap his brain around. What did it mean? That centuries of statistics and learning about the dreamsphere were wrong?

Because nobody had ever believed the earth was a flat disk at the center of the universe.

It was a lot simpler to convince himself the trouble would end once Karen was neutralized for good. But he’d been having difficulties with Maggie since day one, with the faulty shields and hordes of wraiths, and he didn’t see how Karen could have caused that.

Could she?

If she, not some Master, were directing the wraiths to…

Before Zeke hopped further down his rabbit trail, Lill leaned against him, talking intensely. “Here’s the thing. No matter why this happening, we sure as hell don’t want a curator involved. Adi and I—we’ve researched the curators. That guy who keeps showing up? She doesn’t trust him either. Shouldn’t curators engender faith in us, like the Pope or something? They’re in charge of the whole Somnium. They’re our leaders. Vigils are smart, rational people. So why’s that curator such an ass bag?”

Zeke shrugged. The curator Lillian loved to hate didn’t piss him off the same way he did Lill. “Maybe he’s a distant relative of mine. Clan Ass Bag.”

“He’s hiding shit, that’s why.”

“Of course he is. Vigils have skills the rest of us don’t too.”

“But we know what those skills are,” Lill argued. “We know the abilities that are possible if we become vigils. If it turns out curators can use the dreamsphere to heal and have been letting the rest of us croak? That’s huge.”

“You sound like Rhys.” Their fellow sentry would flip over the chance to expose some illicit machinations in the upper echelons of the Somnium. The guy had aspirations of vigildom, maybe curatordom, and was always seeking an angle.

Across the room, Maggie checked the screen of her phone and rose. She padded, barefoot, to the door of the room.

“I’m going to stretch my legs, and then I’ll go to my bunk,” she explained to the guard. It wouldn’t be far. The outbunker only had two levels.

“Don’t take long,” the guard said. “We’re T minus fifteen.”

“Thanks.” Maggie nodded and left the room.

“Hold that thought,” Zeke told Lill, in mid rant about the curator. “I gotta take care of something.”

“Don’t,” Lill warned him, but he was too intent on Maggie to heed it. He’d barely spoken to her since they’d had sex. He had to…he didn’t know.

Something.

He caught up with her on the stairs closest to the unisex restroom. She raised her eyebrows at the sight of him. “Where’s the fire?”

“I want to talk to you.”

Guards were posted everywhere. If they weren’t posted, they were patrolling. Two passed them on the stairs. There was no way he and Maggie could snag any privacy, but he didn’t want her to tackle phase two without so much as handshake.

He didn’t want to tackle Karen without so much as handshake.

“Can you talk while I’m getting a snack?” she suggested, heading down the hall.

He followed her to the small kitchen. Three soldiers sat at a table playing some kind of electronic game on their phones.

Maggie fixed herself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Without asking, she slathered a second one for him—no jelly. He hated jelly.

“So we’re setting my alarm for every two hours?”

“A precaution.” His stomach grumbled. He realized he hadn’t eaten all day. “I don’t think you need it. You aren’t going to get trapped in the sleep sphere, and if you lose your shield—which you won’t—Lill can pop out and wake you the normal way before you manifest. Or you can wake yourself. You’re not a novice. You got this.”

The soldiers pretended not to listen, but with the way everyone suspected Maggie, he knew they were cataloguing whatever was said. It was their job.

“Uh-huh.” Still standing by the counter, Maggie bit into her sandwich. Red jelly dripped onto her T-shirt.

“You had zero problems shielding last night,” he reminded her. She hadn’t. They’d been so caught up in their discussion, she hadn’t had a minute to be afraid of the wraiths or lose confidence in her barrier.

She blinked a few times as she chewed. “You helped.”

“First night in phase two can be strange.” Especially when she’d be sharing the sphere with a psycho who could vigil-trap people. He tried to think of something he could reveal in front of the soldiers. Telling Maggie how much he wished he could kiss her was not his best bet.

What if tonight went south? What if she got hurt? “Do you feel emotional, Maggie?”

She lowered her eyes to the jelly stain. “Maybe I do.”

“I know what you mean.” Would she remember their discussion this morning? Of course she would. She practically had a photographic memory.

She shifted her weight to her other foot as they scarfed down their sandwiches. When she was done, she said, “I’m going to my room. We’re T minus ten.”

She nodded at the soldiers, who’d given up the semblance of gaming to stare skeptically at Maggie and Zeke. Well, mostly at Maggie. The soldiers bore no love for Karen, but it was hard to see Karen’s fragility and tears and imagine her as a threat. Maggie, on the other hand, was vibrant, sharp, and very much alive.