Born to Darkness (40 page)

Sorry
.

I knew it was coming—it’s just very different
.

I have less control
, Bach told her.
It’s not unlike going into freefall and experiencing the pull of gravity. Once the connection’s made, I’m going to end up in your mind, whether either of us likes it or not
.

“I don’t feel anything,” Stephen said. “I’m trying, but …” He shook his head.

“Augment,” Bach ordered, looking over at Elliot even as he shot Anna a
Hold on
.

I’m ready
, she reassured him.

But when Elliot, too, put his hand on Stephen’s other shoulder …

Nothing changed.

“I’ve got a telepathic connection to Elliot,” Stephen reported. “But that’s it.”

“And I’m still only in Anna’s mind,” Bach confirmed.

Stephen shook his head in disgust, as Elliot said, “Passive skills can be very useful.”

“Not for this,” Stephen said, his frustration ringing in his voice. “If we’re going to use controlled dreaming to find Nika, I need to get inside of Anna’s head.”

“Still, this is a talent we haven’t seen before.” Elliot could put a positive spin on anything. “It’s very cool.”

“I don’t have the power to establish a telepathic connection to more than a single ten-percenter at a time,” Bach said. “Not even with another Greater-Than. But let’s see what happens—” He broke his connection with Anna by letting go of Stephen. “—if I first establish a telepathic connection with Dr. Diaz, and then we use him in this conduit function to bring me over to Anna. Maybe, that way, he’ll come, too.”

“That could work,” Elliot said. He smiled at Stephen. “See, maybe not so useless after all. Just give me a sec to get back to the comm-station …” He rolled back across the room.

“Ready?” Bach asked Stephen, who closed his eyes and nodded, despite the muscle that was jumping in his jaw. They must’ve connected swiftly because Bach added, “And now …”

Stephen held out his hand to Anna, his eyes still tightly closed, teeth still clenched.

Anna looked at Bach, who again held her gaze and nodded as she reached for the other man and …

“Whoa, hey, wait a minute,” Elliot said from over at the computer—and that was the last thing Anna heard before the world seemed to split in half.

The pain was incredible as she was engulfed by a brilliant, blinding light and surrounded by an invasive, high-pitched squeal that was so loud that she felt it in her stomach and her spine, as her head almost seemed to explode.

She heard the sound of someone shouting—wow, that was
her
voice—as she felt herself flung back, as her head hit the wall behind the chair. But even that was okay, because compared to that original razor-sharp burst of pain, the duller thud was an improvement, and now it was fading, thank God. Her vision, too, was slowly starting to return from the darkness into which she’d been plunged after the fireworks went off in her brain.

Still, things were blurry as she felt herself lifted up, as she felt herself moving, and then felt the softness of what had to be the sleep-lab bed beneath her. It was then that her vision cleared enough to see Joseph Bach gazing down at her, concern written on his too-handsome face.

He was already inside of her head—she suddenly became aware of the warmth of his presence.

“She’s okay,” he was saying, talking not to her, which confused her until the clouds in her mind cleared enough for her to remember that both Stephen and Elliot were in the room with them.

Anna tried to sit up, but Bach held her in place even as he shook his head and spoke aloud, even as he mentally told her the exact same thing. “Don’t move. Not yet. Elliot’s med scanning you.”

So she stayed still, but she had to ask, “Is Stephen okay?”

“I’m fine.” The Greater-Than stepped forward so that she could see him, too.

You’re the only one who had a negative reaction
, Bach told her. He then spoke aloud, turning to include the two other men in the conversation. “We should have done more tests before trying that.”

“Maybe it was my fault,” Anna said. “Maybe I should have been better prepared.”

“Whatever the case, whatever happened,” Elliot said, coming over to look down at Anna, too, “it lowered and then raised your blood pressure dramatically.” Bach turned to look up at him, and Anna could feel both his concern and dismay as the doctor nodded. “Dangerously. It’s back to normal now. She’s okay, but …”

“We’re not trying that again.” Bach was already shaking his head.

Anna pushed herself up so that she was sitting. “Maybe if I can somehow brace for it—”

Bach cut her off. “No.”

“But if it’s the fastest way to find Nika—”

“No.”

Joe, please …

He gently extracted himself from her mind as he said, “I want to find her, too, and doing it quickly is important—but not enough to risk your life.”

“I’m fine now,” she told him as he continued to shake his head. “Maybe it was only a fluke …”

Stephen cleared his throat. “Maybe I can show Dr. Bach exactly what it is that I do,” he said, looking at Elliot as if for support. “With the controlled dreaming. Give him, I don’t know, a road map or recipe …?”

Elliot nodded. “It’s worth a try, Maestro, because … I’m with you. Anna, we’re lucky you didn’t have a stroke.” Back to Stephen. “Your integration levels were suddenly in flux. You were all over the place. That’s why I shouted to hold up.”

Bach was not happy at that news—nor was Stephen.

“I’m so sorry,” he said. “I didn’t hear you.”

“I want a jot scan running on Dr. Diaz,” Bach ordered Elliot. “Twenty-four/seven.”

“He’s stabilized now,” Elliot reported. “He’s steady again at sixty-one.”

“But obviously his integration levels
aren’t
steady, despite what you previously believed.”

“I
have
been jot scanning him continuously,” Elliot replied. “This was the only blip since his levels first went up.”

“But it happened when it mattered,” Bach said. “And Anna could have been badly hurt. This is why we advocate slow and steady advances—controlled increases in integration.”

“But I wasn’t badly hurt,” Anna said as Elliot bristled at Bach’s words.

“Everyone spikes at some point,” Elliot said. “With an elevenpoint increase, there’s going to be an adjustment period.”

“That’s contrary to what you said earlier,” Bach pointed out.

“He’s solidly sixty-one, sir,” Elliot said. “
Most
of the time. And even though you might have preferred for him to stay celibate—”

“Dr. Zerkowski, I’ve never said that,” Bach said.

“You didn’t have to say it,” Elliot countered.

“El, stop,” Stephen interrupted him. “Dr. Bach is right. We thought I was stable, but obviously I’m not—which means we need to be more cautious.”

“More cautious,” Elliot repeated.

“In dealing with my enhanced abilities,” Stephen said. He reached out and touched Elliot—it was barely noticeable, just one finger pressed lightly against the other man’s back. But whatever he said via their telepathic connection, it made Elliot exhale forcefully, as if he’d been holding his breath, and then nod.

And apologize. Both to Stephen and Bach. “Sorry, Stephen. Sir, I’m … sorry. I’m … guilty of whatever you think I’m guilty of. But then again, we’re all way more emotionally involved in this situation than usual. And isn’t
that
saying something, considering Mac’s not even in the room.”

Bach was back to shaking his head and laughing, but not as if he found anything particularly funny. He took a deep breath and turned to Stephen. “Let’s see if you can’t show me how you do your controlled dreaming, but let’s go to my office to do it.” He
looked at Elliot. “I want a complete medical exam for Ms. Taylor—including another full med scan.”

“You got it,” Elliot said. He went to the comm-station. “I need a nurse in sleep lab seven.”

“Excuse me, Dr. Bach,” Stephen spoke up. “Would you mind giving me a minute with Elliot?”

“Of course not,” Bach said, and the two men slipped out the door, into the hall.

Leaving Anna alone with Bach.

“So now the plan is for you to learn—from Stephen—how to do this controlled dreaming thing,” she confirmed, “which means it’s going to be you inside my head while I’m asleep …?”

He nodded as he went to the comm-station to check whatever readout was on the screen. “Yeah.”

“I’m relieved,” she said. “I mean, Dr. Diaz seems great, but …”

Bach looked up, meeting her gaze, as if he knew that she had something important to tell him.

“The idea of him having access to all of my thoughts was disconcerting,” Anna admitted, and then said it in a rush: “I’ve done some things I’m not proud of. Things Nika doesn’t know about. I realize that, as we try to make this connection with her, it might not be possible, but if it is …? I’d very much like to keep it that way. Keep her from … knowing about … Things. I guess I just feel like I have a better chance of that with you.”

“I’ll do my best,” he said.

“Thanks,” she said.

“For the record,” Bach said quietly. “I’m not going to judge you. You know, I’m human, too. I’ve done plenty of things I’m not proud of. With that said, I’ll try—as best I can—to respect your privacy. And if I can’t, I’ll keep your secrets.”

“Just help me get my sister back,” Anna told him.

“That,” he said, “I promise you I’ll do.”

Shane didn’t say anything. He just followed Mac out of Dr. Bach’s office and toward the bank of elevators that would take them down to the tunnels.

Even though it was a nice day, walking outside meant they’d have to go through a security checkpoint to get into the barracks. And if Mac was really going to do this, she wanted to get it over with.

Yeah. Right.

That’s
why she was in such a big honking hurry to get to Shane’s quarters.

As Mac pushed the button for the elevator, she glanced at Shane, who met her gaze only briefly before returning his attention to the numbers counting down above the door. The lift finally landed on their floor and opened with a
ding
, and he waited, always the officer and gentleman, letting her go in first.

She knew he had something to say—when
didn’t
he?—but that he’d been waiting for the semi-privacy of the elevator to say it, so she didn’t give him a chance to speak. Instead, as they went down, she went over to the comm-station that was in the elevator. “Computer, access MM-one. Initiate a jot scan focusing on integration levels of myself and newly processed Potential Shane Laughlin. Continue scanning constantly for an as-of-yet undetermined amount of time into the future.” Her stomach growled, loudly, but
she ignored it. “Also activate the comm-station, including the printer, in the living quarters of newly processed Potential Shane Laughlin.”

“Computer, access SL-five. Send the two meals that Dr. Mackenzie orders most often to the room of
newly processed
Potential Shane Laughlin,” Shane added, giving her a look that told her he got her message about the fact that he was the outsider here, “with room-service setups for two.”

“What?” Mac laughed her scornful disbelief as the elevator doors opened into the tunnels with a
ding
. “Computer, cancel that last request,” she said, reaching to shut off the computer.

But right before she hit the switch, Shane said, “Computer, belay the cancellation of that last order.”

She would have had to power the computer back up to belay his belaying of her cancellation, but that would have meant standing there, holding the elevator doors open, and inconveniencing a group of twelve-year-old girls who were no doubt heading for class. Instead, she just got off, shaking her head as she led Shane down the tunnel to the barracks.

“This isn’t a four-star hotel,” she told him, letting her annoyance ring in her voice, “with room service.”

“I was told I could use my computer access code to order food that would be delivered to my rooms, so …”

“Yeah, because you’re locked in, Navy,” Mac pointed out. “So it’s more like prison-cell service. But you can call it room service if that makes you feel better.”

Shane laughed as he hustled to keep up with her through the tunnel as she double-timed it. “Are you really pissed off because I figured you were hungry, too, and might want something to eat?”

“This isn’t a date, Laughlin,” she said shortly, grateful that the tunnel was empty, so that she could be direct and not mince words. “It’s an experiment.”

“Even scientists have to eat,” he pointed out. “I thought I’d order something you like.”

“Yeah, well, I
like
to eat alone.”

“Yeah, well,
I’m
hungry, so …”

“Then you should have ordered something
you
like to eat,” she said. “Trust me, Laughlin, you don’t have to work for this. All you have to do is shut up and walk.”

“Has it occurred to you that maybe I ordered what I ordered because it’s the only way I’m ever going to find out more about you?” he asked.

They’d reached the elevators that would take them up into the barracks, and Mac savagely punched the call button. “You already know all you need to know.”

“I disagree.”

The elevator opened and more twelve-year-olds spilled out. Shane held the door and then waited for Mac to go first before following her in.

She pushed the button for his floor—the third—and as the doors slid shut, she turned to him.

He was watching her with those eyes and a hit-me-with-your-best-shot expression on his face, clearly waiting for her to continue the argument, no doubt planning his rebuttal to whatever she had to say. So she didn’t say anything.

She just stepped toward him, closing the space between them and then pushing him back so that he bumped the elevator wall, even as she pulled his head down so she could kiss him.

She could feel his surprise even though he didn’t hesitate to kiss her back. But then he definitely faltered as she reached between them for a junk-grab and stroked him right through his pants. He was already packing wood—his euphemism of choice—but of course she’d been aware of that starting back in Bach’s office.