Skin Dive (34 page)

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Authors: Ava Gray

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: Skin Dive
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Juneau added, “He hasn’t sounded right the last few times you’ve spoken to him.”
Taye cut a sharp look at her. He’d noticed it, too. “In what way?”
She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “Maybe it’s nothing. I have a vivid imagination.”
Hawk paced, a grim figure all in black. “MB hasn’t moved on Kestrel because he didn’t think we had the ability to fix what they did to her. Finch can remove memories, alter them or implant gentle suggestions, but he doesn’t have anything that makes people obey. Not like that.”
“Which should have been a clue,” Juneau pointed out. “Tanager can do that, but it’s her voice, not mind mojo. It’s her siren call.”
Hawk nodded. “And it only works on men.”
Taye considered the implications. “If they used tech on Kestrel, that means they don’t have a mind-fucker. Not even like Finch.”
“Ask him to find Kestrel, if he can.” Taye pulled his shirt on and grabbed his jacket. “I can free her, like I did you. I’m sure she doesn’t want to work for them.”
“We’ve been hurting her for months,” the other man said quietly.
Yeah, the intentional bombardment—the way they’d powered up simultaneously to shut her down. It might have been kinder if Mockingbird had just sent someone to kill her.
“We could use her help,” Juneau said softly. “And even if you can’t save her, I think you should try.”
That was all it took. Hawk made the call.
A few minutes later, Mockingbird appeared in the laptop. Taye didn’t think anyone had instituted a conference call. It wasn’t a video-chat. But an avatar appeared on screen—not human. It had no face, just the smooth shape of a head, oddly childlike, and a hole that moved in convex patterns for a mouth.
“You have your last mission,” Mockingbird said. “What do you need?”
Hawk answered, “I thought we might want to go after Kestrel instead. Can you find out where she is?”
Silence. The unsettling, inhuman image disappeared. Then streams of data poured down the screen; words, numbers, symbols, and pictures flashed so fast Taye couldn’t tell them apart, as if Mockingbird were using the whole Internet as his search engine. He’d never seen anything like it outside of a movie. Computers didn’t work like that, particularly not strippeddown little netbooks like Juneau carried around. They didn’t have the power.
It took only a few seconds, but MB said, “Sorry for the delay. They’ve updated their security . . . but it’ll never be good enough to keep me out. They gave her to the merc. Caleb Dunn. I already forwarded a dossier on him.”
Taye had skimmed the file when Mockingbird first got in touch with him and told him they needed to run. A British former soldier, Dunn had worked in most of the hellhole countries: Bosnia, Afghanistan, Cambodia, East Timor, Kosovo, and Sierra Leone, pretty much anywhere a man could make money fighting in private armies. His resume was impressive; he had a reputation for being tough and thorough.
Hawk said thoughtfully, “So if we find Dunn, we find Kestrel.”
“Indeed. I can give you a little help there . . . he has a car registered to him. Forwarding DMV records. You have clearance to pursue this. I’d forgotten Crow developed a successful workaround for the Foundation chip.”
Successful workaround? I just fried it, more like.
Hopefully his control would be sufficient to do the same for Kestrel without melting her brain. The further his sickness progressed, the less likely that seemed. Time mattered. Then incredible foreboding hit him as he registered the latter part of what Mockingbird had said.
Forgot?
Juneau glanced between Hawk and Taye, eyes wide. The big guy reflected the same incredulity. Fear percolated in Taye’s veins. Mockingbird did not forget things; no detail slipped through the cracks.
What the hell’s going on?
“You okay?” Hawk asked.
“Fine.” But Mockingbird didn’t sound fine. There was interference in the line now. Feedback and data echoes, as if two radio stations were fighting for the same frequency. “Whatever happens with Kestrel, afterward please resume the mission I laid out for you.”
That sounded oddly final, but before any of them could question his words, the laptop went dark. Juneau fiddled with the cords, but it was still plugged in. Nothing. The battery had just been completely drained.
Juneau shook her head. “Weird.”
“Has that ever happened before?” he asked.
Hawk shook his head. “MB has what we call an unstable gift. Maybe because it’s tech-related, it’s constantly updating itself, whether you want it to or not.”
Taye grinned despite himself. “Superpowers by Microsoft.”
“Pretty much,” the big guy answered. “Think we should call Tanager? She’s known him longest. She might be able to tell us what the fuck’s up.”
Juneau bit her lip. “You know she cares about him more than she’d admit. I don’t think it’s a good idea until we know more. No point in worrying her before we’re sure.”
The big guy sighed. “I’m sure
something’s
wrong, Junie.”
“Don’t call me that.” She folded her arms and glared.
Taye shook his head, casting the tie-breaker vote. “I’m with her—not yet. Not now. Let’s rescue Kestrel first.”

 

Worry hollowed her
out. Gillie tried pinging Mockingbird, but he didn’t answer. That couldn’t be good. She had no other numbers to call. They didn’t send anyone else to her for healing, which made her think something big must be going down.
And so Gillie slid back into her life. Her ID hadn’t been compromised. There was no surveillance footage of her at the car rental place, and any film the cops might have gotten on their patrol car had been blown all to hell. Therefore, she was safe as Grace Evans. The same protection inherent in playing a college student still existed.
So she went to class and took her finals. At night, she went to the firing range. By day, she graded papers for Will, and fielded desperate questions from students who had just realized their grades sucked. On the last day of school, Brandon found her in the library, as he’d done so often in the past. The e-mail he’d sent made her think this wouldn’t be a fun conversation.
“So where’s your boyfriend?” he asked.
“He travels a lot for work.”
So much better than the truth . . . that he’s sick and he didn’t see fit to tell me.
In retrospect, she should have paid more attention to the signs, but she’d wanted everything to be all right so badly that she’d glossed over them, accepted his lame explanations.
I don’t know if I’ll ever see him again.
“Ah. So he’s older. Probably got a great job and a cool car.”
She stifled a laugh. Brandon thought she liked Taye for that?
Sure, let’s go with that.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “But I made it clear I wasn’t looking for a relationship.”
“You didn’t tell me you were seeing anyone either.”
“Look, he and I have a complicated relationship. We’re not always . . . seeing each other, but nobody else’s ever going to measure up in my head either.”
Brandon shook his head. “So even when you’re not with him, you’re still his. Christ. Does he have a gold-plated dick?”
“I’m sorry if I didn’t make my situation clear to you.”
He sighed. “No, you did. I guess I just hoped if I hung around enough, I’d change your mind. I don’t take rejection well, and I’m sorry about that e-mail. I was a total douche.”
Well, yeah, but it was the least of her worries right now. “Thanks.”
“So we’re cool.”
“Absolutely.”
“’Kay. I probably won’t be around much this summer. I got into a band and we’re the opening act, so I’ll be touring.”
“Wow, sweet. Congrats!”
“It’s because of you,” he said quietly. “I wrote all these tormented emo songs and the guys loved them when I auditioned.”
“I’m glad I could help.”
But Gillie didn’t feel much like studying after Brandon left. She packed all her stuff and left the library, heading over to her small office in the psych building instead. Though she expected it to be quiet, instead, there was an argument going on. Roger, the other TA, was yelling at Professor Reynolds. Though she didn’t intend to eavesdrop, it was impossible not to.
“I can’t believe you’re recommending her, instead of me. She’s only been in this department for one semester . . . I’ve been busting my ass for you since I was a
sophomore
.”
“It wouldn’t be a good fit. There will be other internships.”
“Everyone thinks you’re fucking her,” the TA said. “Did you know that?
Just
like the other girl. You just don’t learn, do you?”
Well, shit.
She pushed the door to Reynolds’s office open and planted her hands on her hips. “Do you want to ask me something, Roger?”
“Grace.” Will looked sick with shame, but whatever he’d done in the past, he hadn’t done a damn thing wrong with her, and she wasn’t letting the other TA get away with this.
“Yeah. How often do you let him put it to you?”
“Never,” she answered coldly. “Which is as often as
you
get laid, considering you’re a spoiled, entitled little prick. It’s time for you to leave, before you really piss me off.”
Something in her face must’ve genuinely frightened him, because Roger’s bravado failed him. Instead of continuing his diatribe, he grabbed his things and hurried out, leaving an awkward silence. Will sat down at his desk, shakily running his hands through his hair.
“You must be wondering what that was about.”
“I gather you’re recommending me for a position he wanted.”
He sighed. “Not that part of it.”
Gillie shrugged. “To be honest, it’s not my business.”
“Well, I feel I owe you the story.”
At that, she took the chair opposite his desk and crossed her legs, waiting.
“Five years ago, I was married, and I had a promising young assistant . . . she was very driven and pretty. She was also quite unstable. She became . . . obsessed with me.”
She nodded to show she was listening. It wasn’t a surprising tale. Take a young girl with daddy issues and put her in proximity with a nice, decent older guy and shit like this happened. It was too bad for Will; she believed he hadn’t encouraged the behavior. God knew, he had never been anything but polite, friendly, and professionally encouraging with her. But some people couldn’t differentiate social nuances.
“I never slept with her, but Margaret told everyone I had. Her stalking escalated. Eventually, she went to my wife and exposed our ‘affair.’ Consequently, my wife, Judith, left me . . . our marriage had been troubled, so she was looking for an excuse.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. “If she’d loved me, she would’ve stayed. I don’t think I loved her anymore either. We were going through the motions. I hated failing, more than anything else.”
“I get that.”
He went on, “Eventually, Margaret killed herself. I almost lost my job in the resultant scandal, but the university believed my side of the story, as it came out that Margaret had prior incidents. Restraining orders, tendencies toward obsession. Her biology teacher in high school received some of the same treatment.”
“But you lost everything anyway, including your reputation.” Which explained Brandon’s joke, early on.
Will lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “Some prefer the lurid version, wherein I’m such a lover that I drove a young woman to her death at the loss of me. But since then, I’ve taken only male TAs or none at all.”
“Until me. I’m sorry I caused trouble for you.” This also explained why he’d been so frightened at the clinic. If she’d died on his watch, his career would’ve been done.
“People are assholes,” he said, unexpectedly. “Roger more than most.”
“Amen to that.”
“I suppose you’d like to know if you got the internship?”
“No, thanks. I have something else to do this summer.” She hadn’t known she meant to turn him down until this second; this wasn’t her life. She could pretend for fifty more years, but she wasn’t Grace Evans from Ohio, and she’d fight to be Gillie Flynn.
“Are you sure? It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”
“I believe you. Otherwise Roger would’ve been a little less irrational about losing out.”
Gillie stood, glancing around his office. The textbooks had all become familiar to her, as had Will with his faint scent of tobacco smoke. Impulsively, she crossed his desk to hug him, though she made sure it was an appropriate embrace—not one that would make him worry she was crazy like Margaret. He responded with surprise and then a gentle pat on her back.
He stood back to gaze into her face with a speculative look. “I hope it’s important. You’re giving up a lot.”
She shook her head. “Nope. I’m taking everything back.”

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