Caged (Talented Saga) (18 page)

Chapter Seventeen

“You’re late,” Penny declared as I walked into the cafeteria after my meeting with Mac.

“Sorry,” I replied absently. “I had to meet with Mac about something.”

“What’s up?
Did you find something about the spy today?” she asked hopefully.

“Oh, no, nothing
like that,” I said.

I told her all about Kenly, and how I hoped that if I helped her train I could make her into a Hunter.
Penny thought my idea was great, and she agreed that having a team member with analytical skills would be an invaluable asset in the field. Her enthusiasm for my plan renewed my own. She too seemed intrigued by the fact that Kenly was a dual Talent. I was thrilled to have Penny as a sounding board, and we bounced ideas back and forth until the cafeteria staff kicked us out.

My day had been such a roller coaster of emotions that I was mentally exhausted, and I returned to my room after dinner.
Penny told me that she would be in the Crypto Bank tomorrow evening, and I promised to head over as soon as I finished helping Captain Alvarez.

I was in a good mood when I reached my room.
My communicator was blinking and beeping furiously on my side table when I entered. Selecting the voice button, I went in my bathroom to get ready for bed. I listened to Donavon’s voice fill the room as I brushed my teeth and washed my face. After I’d finished my nightly routine, I hit the reply button on my communicator and waited. As soon as Donavon answered, a mini hologram of him popped out of the communicator.

“Don’t put me on hologram; I’m already in my pajamas,” I whined when he answered.

“Exactly what I was hoping for,” he replied, the mini-Donavon suggestively wagging its eyebrows. With a pang, I thought of how Erik always wiggled his eyebrows when he was being crass.

“You called?” I asked, hurriedly changing the subject.

“Yeah, just wanted to make sure you’re feeling okay,” he said.

“I’m good,” I answered with a half-truth.
Physically, I’d felt great all day. Emotionally, I was still raw from my encounters with Ernest and Mac.

“What’s wrong, Talia?” he asked, sensing my dishonesty.

“Nothing,” I mumbled, not wanting to recount my taxing day.

“I’m coming over,” he declared.

“Not necessary,” I insisted.

“I can tell that it is.
You should’ve told me; I would have gone to see Ernest with you.” Damn, our connection was still strong enough for him to pick up on my mental projections across the building. It was also a possibility that his father had told him; I felt certain that Dr. Thistler had gone straight to Mac after my breakdown in Ernest’s room.

“I don’t want to talk about it, Donavon,” I warned.

“Then we won’t talk. I’m on my way now, though.” The mini hologram Donavon disappeared when he disconnected.

True to his word, Donavon quietly knocked on my door just minutes later.
Reluctantly, I opened it and let him in. Donavon said nothing as he came over and kissed me softly on the top of my head. He pulled the covers back on the bed and waited while I climbed in. I scooted all the way over to the side closest to the wall, keeping my back to him. Donavon kicked off his shoes and crawled in behind me. I lifted my head and he slid his arm underneath it. One hand absently played with my hair while his other sought out my hand, threading our fingers together.

Penny’s words filled my head, followed by my own promise to be careful where he was concerned.

“Tal, I can’t tell you how sorry I am about what happened. I wish that I could take it all back, but I can’t. I care about you so much, and I know that there’s a lot going on right now. I just want to help you. I will do anything I can for you,”
Donavon urged.
“You can trust me, Natalia. I will never hurt you again. If it takes the rest of my life, I will make you see that you can trust me, that I am sorry, and that I love you.”

“Did you tell her that you loved her too?” I whispered.
I didn’t really want to, but I had to know.

“No, I never told
Kandice that I loved her. It would’ve been a lie,” he replied, tightening his fingers around mine.

I wanted to believe him, but his mental barriers shot up, letting me know that it was me that he was lying to.

“You should go, Donavon,” I said quietly, tears filling my eyes.

“No, Talia.
I’m not leaving. You can’t honestly tell me that you don’t still have feelings for me, can you?”

I did still have feelings for Donavon.
I still cared so much that knowing that he was lying to me broke my heart all over again. “If you love me, if you still care about me, then tell me the truth, Donavon. Did you tell her that you loved her?”

Donavon swallowed hard.
“Yes, I did,” he whispered.

A sob tore through my chest and I yanked my hand free from his.
“Get out!” I cried.

Donavon sat up, but didn’t leave my bed.
“Tal, please, let’s talk about this,” he pleaded.

I shot up and scrambled to lean against the wall.
Shadows danced across his features and a thin strip of moonlight illuminated his shiny blue eyes. Hot anger coursed through my veins, and the urge to attack him was too strong to suppress. My hand shot out and I slapped him across his face. Donavon didn’t raise a finger to defend himself. His complacent demeanor infuriated me further, and I balled my fists and pounded on his chest, sobbing hysterically.

When my blows slowed, Donavon wrapped his fingers around my wrists and pulled me to him.

“I’m so sorry, Talia, I’m so sorry,” he repeated over and over again.

Donavon let me cry until my wails gave way to hiccups and my breath came in ragged gasps.
My head spun even as I buried my face in his shirt. Though my cries had subsided, I still couldn’t breathe right; my chest felt so tight, and a searing pain accompanied every breath. The trembling in my arms and legs became worse instead of better. The rigidness left my muscles and I sagged against Donavon, a violently quaking puddle of limbs. Then my jaw clenched and air hissed through my barely parted lips.

“Tal?” Donavon asked in alarm.

I couldn’t answer him; I couldn’t say anything. I couldn’t even find the wherewithal to communicate mentally.

“Crap, crap, crap,” I heard Donavon chant from somewhere far away.

My vision and hearing were fading fast, and I knew that I would soon be unconscious. Terrified, I scratched weakly at his t-shirt, willing him to understand that I was having a seizure and I needed him to call Dr. Thistler.

The message must’ve gotten through because I heard him screaming into my communicator seconds later.

“Dad! Dad! You have to get down here - it’s Talia! She’s convulsing. I think that she’s having a seizure!”

Then his lips were next to my ear, and my head knocked against his as the spasms racked through my body.

“Hold on, Tal. Help is coming,” he promised. His arms were strong and comforting, and he held me tighter the more that I shook. Donavon continued to murmur assurances while we waited for his father to arrive.

Mac must have been close because the door to my room burst open several minutes later.
Mac, Dr. Thistler, and Janet rushed inside. Mac pried me from his son’s arms, shoved Donavon aside, and laid me flat on the bed, pinning me against the mattress as I thrashed uncontrollably. Dr. Thistler tore the sleeve back from my arm and wasted no time plunging the needle into my exposed vein. The moment the drugs hit my bloodstream, the shaking slowed. Mac stroked my sweaty hair back from my forehead, and I relaxed into the blankets.

“You’re okay, now,” he soothed.

I still couldn’t talk, but I managed to bob my head up and down. Mac wrapped his large hands around mine, rubbing back and forth to calm the lingering tremors. I closed my eyes, exhausted.

“Natalia, are you hurt?” he asked, holding up one of my hands.

Hurt? Like besides the seizure?
I wondered.

“It’s not her blood, Dad,” Donavon answered quietly.

Blood?
I thought, managing to muster enough strength to lift my eyelids. Sure enough, the fingernails of the hand Mac was examining were stained red. I looked from my bloody hands to Donavon; the front of his shirt was torn, and long scratches ran the length of his neck and chest. One of his cheeks was slightly darker than the other, where I’d slapped him.

“Did I do that?” I stammered, tripping over the words.

Mac, Janet, and Dr. Thistler exchanged worried glances, but Donavon’s sympathetic eyes stay focused on me. No one answered my question.

“Donavon, go change,” his father ordered.

“I think that someone should stay with Talia tonight,” he replied, keeping his feet firmly rooted in place.

“I think that she should go to Medical, so I can observe her,” Dr. Thistler said pointedly.

“No,” I moaned in protest. The only thing that I wanted less than having an overnight babysitter was having a sleepover in the hospital.

“She’ll be more comfortable here.
I’ll stay with her,” Donavon answered evenly, boldly meeting Dr. Thistler’s gaze. Like his father, Donavon was physically imposing. As he rose to his full height, haughtily crossing his arms over his torn shirt and pinning her with a gaze that was pure ice, I realized just how much like Mac he really was. Dr. Thistler must have realized it too, because she pursed her thin lips and gave Donavon a disapproving look; but then she took several steps back and didn’t argue further.

Mac’s expression was neutral, but I could feel his displeasure.
Donavon tore his eyes from Dr. Thistler, and the warm baby-blue color was back when he fixed them on me. He silently pleaded with me to tell them that he could stay. The doctor might have cowered under his stare, but his father would not. If I insisted on spending the night in my room with Donavon there to watch me, Mac might agree. Truthfully, I wanted to spend the night in my own room alone, but I knew that option wasn’t on the table.

“I want Donavon to stay with me,” I said, the words sounding garbled and nearly unintelligible since I was still trying to regain control of my muscles.

Mac, Janet, and Dr. Thistler exchanged more uneasy glances.

“Fine, but you have to sleep,” Mac finally agreed.

He needn’t worry about that; between my seizure and Donavon’s admission, I was barely able to stay awake.

Dr. Thistler made me
promise to go straight to sleep and check in with her in the morning. Mac tucked me under the covers and said a quick goodnight. Janet leaned down and kissed me on the forehead before following the other two out of the room.

Donavon walked with them to close my door once they’d gone.

“Don’t,” Mac told his son in a voice so low that I knew he hadn’t meant for me to hear. Donavon threw me a look over his shoulder, indecision and sorrow warring in his mind.

“I won’t,” he said to his father in the same barely audible whisper.
Then he shut my bedroom door in Mac’s face.

I was too tired to care what Mac didn’t want his son to do; I had a couple of guesses, all of them embarrassing for me.
Donavon discussing our personal interactions with his father was
so
not something that I wanted to know about. Given that Mac had found his son in my bedroom late at night, his mind must have jumped to the logical conclusion, but that he’d felt the need to expressly warn him not to touch me after I’d had a seizure was more than I could handle.

Donavon didn’t get back into bed.
Instead he sat on the floor next to it, leaning against the wall. He propped his elbows on bent knees and rested his face on upturned palms. Tentatively, I reached for one of his hands. He wound his fingers through mine, but refused to face me.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“I didn’t mean to claw you.” Gingerly, I touched the raised scratches on his neck; he didn’t even flinch as I ran my finger over the wounds. The marks were extremely thin and felt more like they’d been made by a cat’s claws, rather than human fingernails.

“I’m the one who’s sorry, Tal.
I know how badly I hurt you, and now I’ve given you seizures, too.” He sounded close to tears.

“The seizure wasn’t your fault,” I assured him, although it kind of was.
“I helped with that Hunters’ demonstration today even though Dr. Thistler told me not to physically exert myself. And then everything with Ernest. So when you said ...well, you know, it was just too much. I overreacted.”

“I’m so sorry,” he repeated; and when he finally turned to face me, tears were streaming down his cheeks.
“I never meant to hurt you. I love you.”

Just like I’d known that he was lying earlier, I knew that he was telling the truth now.
Donavon did love me; and if he could take back what had happened with Kandice, I knew that he would. Unfortunately, he couldn’t - and he also couldn’t make me trust him again. I did still have feelings for him and maybe even still loved him in a way, but I wasn’t sure that it was enough.