Caged (Talented Saga) (33 page)

The small part of me that wanted to retain control fought against Erik once I understood what he was doing. As much as I enjoyed the unburdening of my consciousness, I hated surrendering my will even to him.

“I just want to help.
Don’t fight,” Erik said gently.

“You’ve apparently mastered my abilities,” I mumbled.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked, lessening his hold so I could make the decision for myself.

“No,” I decided.
“I don’t.”

I really didn’t.
I felt weak and more than a little pathetic letting him do this for me; but before he’d taken over, I’d felt manic and unstable. Between the two states I’d rather be the former.

“Sleep,
Tals. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere,” he soothed.

“Promise?”
I whispered, hoarsely.

“Promise.”

Chapter Thirty

That night my dreams were consumed by lines of scrolling text. The letters L, I, A, and R blazed orange as strings of white letters, numbers, and symbols crisscrossed my subconscious. A voice chanted “liar, liar, liar” over and over. Those images gave way to me standing in the center of the School’s indoor practice arena, facing my placement panel.
“I know you are, but what am I?”
a man’s voice taunted me.

As I stared at him, perplexed by his malicious expression, he transformed into Cal.
Suddenly, I was in the claustrophobic interrogation room with Cal’s hulking form looming over me. He became a giant tiger before my eyes, and Captain Alvarez’s voice boomed through the speakers. “Elite, Elite, Elite,” he proclaimed. Then I was with Kenly, helping her train. I advanced on her, preparing to demonstrate some combination of offensive maneuvers when the earth quaked and a deep chasm appeared. I teetered on the edge, my arms flailing as I tried to regain my balance. I called to her for help, but instead of catching me like she did when I slipped on the baton, she let me fall.

I woke with a start, panting heavily and bathed in sweat
. Nightmare, just a nightmare
, I assured myself. I glanced down at Erik’s sleeping form, and instantly calmed.

One of his arms was still wrapped around my waist, and it tightened when I stirred.
His other arm was flung over his head on the pillow. Long, dark lashes brushed the deep shadows under his closed eyes. His lips were parted slightly and he breathed evenly. At rest, the lines of tension around his mouth and eyes had smoothed, and his trademark mischievous smile was absent. He looked peaceful and much younger than his twenty years.

I smiled as I snuggled against him, lightly tracing the contours of his perfect features.
Responding to my touch, Erik absently brushed his lips across my forehead and mumbled incoherently.

“Erik?” I whispered, craning my neck so that my mouth was next to his ear.

“Sleep, Tal. I’m here,” he mumbled, pulling me closer.

“Erik, I need you to get up,” I said softly.

He made a couple more unintelligible noises in reply, but refused to open his eyes. As much as I hated to wake him, I really needed to. So I bit his earlobe, hard.

“Jesus, Tal,” he cried, yanking his head back.

“Oh, good, you’re awake!” I exclaimed brightly, giving him an innocent smile.

Erik scowled, fixing me with bloodshot eyes.
I immediately felt bad for waking him. He’d stayed up most of the night to ensure that I slept; every time I’d cried out, he’d soothed me back to dreamland. Unfortunately for him, it was there that inspiration struck; my dreams of Placement Tests and encrypted text gave me an idea. I knew that I was missing some of the puzzle pieces, but the ones I did have were starting to form a picture.

“What’s so important that it can’t wait another hour?” Erik asked drowsily, letting his lids fall closed.

“I need to talk to a Crypto,” I said, pinching the skin that covered his taut stomach muscles.

The hand behind his head shot down and long fingers encircled my wrist.
“Hands off the goods, Lyons,” he smirked. “You’re giving me funny ideas.”

I had a pretty good idea what those funny ideas were when the hand at my waist snaked up my shirt.
Erik’s fingers trailed over my stomach now, dipping dangerously low into the waistband of my borrowed gym shorts.

“I’m serious,” I protested, swatting feebly at his chest.
“I want to see some personnel records and placement results.”

“I’m not Penny,” he reminded me.

“Right, but you are a Mimic.”

Erik’s body stiffened.
“You want me to Mimic a Crypto and do what, exactly?” he said slowly.

“Some of the files I want are probably restricted.
If I ask Mac to get them for me, then he’ll want to know why, and I don’t want to say anything to him until I’m sure.”

“So you want me to Mimic a Crypto, break into the database and get the records for you?”
Erik’s eyes flew open in alarm. “Tal, I can’t do that. I explained this to you last night – I’ll be able to mimic the Brain’s Talents, but I wouldn’t even know where to begin once I’m in.”

“I don’t want you to mimic the Brain’s Talents.
I want you to mimic mine,” I replied calmly. I’d thought this through already. “You can use my Manipulation to control the Crypto and get him to retrieve the files.”

“Not that I don’t want to help,” Erik began evenly.
“But why can’t you just control him yourself? Wouldn’t that be a lot easier than having me mimic you to manipulate him? No offense, Tal, but this plan seems pretty convoluted......” Erik shook his head and settled back against his pillow. The hand at my waist had stilled when I told him what I wanted, but now began scrawling lazy lines across my stomach.

“I won’t be able to control him,” I said quietly, hating to admit the weakness.

“You can control anyone. Don’t play the feel-bad-for-me card. I’ve been on the other end of your Manipulation; I know exactly how strong you are.” Erik sounded irritated, but he continued to hold me close. He guided my wrist to his chest and gripped my sides, lifting me so that I was lying on top of him. Erik’s mouth found my throat and he nibbled his way down to the neckline of my tee.

“Erik, stop.
I’m serious,” I mumbled. My words came out low and throaty, and we both knew that I didn’t really want him to stop.

“If you really want me to stop, make me.”
He flipped me over so fast that I let out a startled cry when my back hit the mattress. Erik moved over me, dipping his mouth to meet mine, the challenge evident in his amused eyes. I pushed gently on his chest to keep him at bay.

“I’m serious.
I can’t,” I said. The playful expression turned serious as he settled on his elbow beside me. “I’m too drained from yesterday; I haven’t used that much energy in months. Ever since I came back from Nevada ...I just get tired so easily, and I don’t have the strength left to completely control another person.”

I met his troubled gaze, and the pure sympathy made me look away.
I hated appearing weak, particularly in front of him. From our first meeting, he’d been taking care of me. When I got hurt on our first mission, he absorbed the pain so I wouldn’t have to feel it. After Donavon cheated on me, Erik helped repair my broken heart. During my seizure on the ledge, Erik had taken control, kept me conscious and sane. Even last night, he’d dulled my emotions and quieted my racing thoughts so that I could sleep.

Erik wiped at the tear that trickled from my tightly scrunched eye.
“I wanted to do those things for you,” he whispered. “Having help doesn’t make you weak.”

“You never need someone to pick up the pieces of your crumbling life,” I sniffed.
I knew I was being dramatic, but I felt like there was a pile of bricks on my chest. Receiving the injections and the constant monitoring of my blood were bad enough, but now I couldn’t even use my Talents. My gifts had been an essential part of who I was for my entire life and now they were failing just like my health and sanity.

“Like I said, a Mimic is only as strong at the Talent they’re imitating, and I’m stronger than ever when I’m around you.
Your abilities are just as good – maybe better – than before your mission. I didn’t do all of those things for you because I think you’re weak. I did them because I care about you, because I want to help you. And if you want my help now, I’m there.” He leaned over and kissed my tearstained cheek.

The warmth and gentleness of his words only made me cry harder.
Erik held me and whispered assurances, his voice like silk encasing me in a safe cocoon. He didn’t try to take the pain away; instead, he let me cry until I’d gotten it all out.

When I was cried out, Erik led me to the bathroom.
I sat on the closed toilet lid while he started the shower.

“Need help getting naked?” he asked, squatting so that he was peering up at me.
His tone was coy and suggestive, and I knew that he was trying to put an end to my pity party.

“I think I can manage.”
I smiled.

“I don’t mind,
Tals. I’m happy to help you wash your hair, rub soap on your back ...or your –”

“I’ll be okay,” I cut him off before he could voice the inappropriate images that he was projecting.

“If my services aren’t needed, I guess I’ll go get your clothes,” he offered, standing to leave.

“Thanks, Erik,” I said softly to his retreating back.
At first I didn’t think that he’d heard me, but his mental reply came through the closed door.

“If you let me help you shower, then you’d really have something to thank me for.”

Despite my dire mood, I beamed as I climbed over the side of the tub.

My bag was sitting inside the bathroom door when I emerged from the hot water.
I quickly dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved white t-shirt. As I wound my hair into a wet knot on top of my head, I tried to quash the growing bubble of dread in my stomach. I was almost positive that I would find the missing link in the records. But now that I was so close to uncovering the truth, I was more apprehensive then excited.

I definitely wanted to unmask the traitor.
I wanted him to pay for what he’d done to me. The anger and frustration from the previous day remained; and I knew that when I did fill in all the gaps, no amount of deep breathing, equalizers, or manipulation from Erik was going to quell my desire for revenge. Even thinking about it made my blood boil. Still, the knot of anxiety in my stomach pulled tighter with each passing moment.

Erik sat on his bed, dressed in his standard attire – jeans and a dark green polo shirt – when I returned to the bedroom.
He was playing with his communicator, but glanced up when he heard me.

“Ready?” he asked with an easy smile.

“Definitely,” I replied with a confidence that didn’t penetrate the surface.

Erik cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable.
“Um, Donavon said to let him know when you’re ready to fly out. He, um, ...he said he’d be with Harris, working out ...or something.”

“You saw Donavon?” I asked.
I hadn’t given him a second thought since landing the day before.

“Yeah, his room is next to yours.
And ...well, he kinda heard me getting your things.” Erik was visibly distraught talking about Donavon. I knew that if I read his mind, I’d find that the conversation between the two hadn’t been as friendly as what he imparted. On the plus side, Erik appeared bruise- and blood-free, so at least their interaction hadn’t come to blows.

“He also wanted me to remind you to take your medicine.
Said you have a shot in your bag?”

I did have a shot in my bag, but I had yet to administer the medication myself.
Dr. Thistler always gave me the injection, and just the thought of plunging the needle into my own arm made my stomach roll.

“I’ll be okay until I get back to school,” I said decisively.
“It’d be better if Dr. Thistler gave it to me anyway.” I gave him a reassuring smile.

The look in Erik’s eyes – not to mention the images of me shaking on the ledge that were playing in his mind – told me that he thought waiting was a bad idea. He opened his mouth to argue, but quickly reconsidered.

“You’re the boss,” he said instead.

It was really early, and the night-shift
Cryptos would still be on duty. I wasn’t very well acquainted with many of the Brains, and hoped that the ones working would be weak-willed. Erik had demonstrated that he was more than capable of controlling even the most reluctant of minds – namely mine – but I didn’t want any problems.

The Crypto Bank at Headquarters was just as sterile and impersonal as the one at School.
I led Erik around a curved hallway lined with frosted-glass doors. I knocked on one at random, marked “213,” and waited. Erik reached for my hand and gave it a brief squeeze as soft footsteps made their way to greet us.

“Hey,” a short, skinny boy said when he opened the door.
“Are you two in the wrong place?”

“No.
I don’t know if you know who I am, but – ” I started to say.

“Talia, right?” he interrupted.
“And Erikson Kelley?” he said, turning to Erik.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Erik answered.
“We were hoping that you could help us with something. Talia needs some personnel records.”

“Oh.
Well, you know, I can’t really do that without authorization,” the boy stammered.

Erik released my hand and stepped forward.
His gaze was steady as he pinned the smaller boy’s watery brown eyes with his. “You said that you know who Talia is, so you must also know that she lives with Director McDonough? He personally approved her access to any files that she needs, and you wouldn’t want to upset him, would you?”

The boy stumbled several paces back under Erik’s intensity, and his expression went slack.
“No, of course not. Come in,” he mumbled.