Stunned (The Lucidites Book 2) (12 page)

“Don’t apologize,” she says, pulling her hand to her chest like it’s injured. “Are you all right?”

I realize I haven’t been breathing properly when my head becomes suddenly light. Everyone at the table is looking at me. Did they all know? Did they know how
much
I cared for Aiden? Did they know that this hurt? When I see Trent’s consoling expression I realize that everyone probably knew something. His look is enough to make me realize I can’t face George. His expression will surely break me in two. My eyes flick up to find Joseph’s, then away. It hurts worse to see him and know he knows I’m upset. He doesn’t look away but instead says, “I guess you can’t leave now.” His words are cold, unkind. I want to punch him, but instead I let the statement in his words take full control of my being.

“No, I have to go. I have to get out of here.” My voice shakes.
More now than ever, I have to get out of here.
Instinctively I know if I get away from this place then the piercing pain will subside. Aiden, wherever he is, will be found. He has to be. And I can’t help him anyway. All I can do here in this stainless steel box is worry and ache, and I’m at my threshold with that. I have to get out of here, very soon, or otherwise I’ll combust.

I race through the first level trying to determine where I can find Trey now. Would he be in his office and if so, where is that? I’m searching like never before, hitting every button next to every door. When I don’t find anything on the first level I move my search down to the second. It doesn’t take long for me to determine that his office isn’t there. I descend to level three. The brushed stainless steel walls are extra cold right now. My heart races in my chest. I round a corner and pass the computer lab. After I turn again I realize that I’m in new territory. Passing through a long hallway I finally come to a door. When I’m just about to hit the button I see above it a label: “Head Official.” I stop just before my fingers touch the button and knock.

There’s a sudden shuffling. The door slides back and disappears. Trey stands looking anxious, tired. When I was searching for his office I kept rehearsing the insults I would say to him in order to get my way. My resolve dissipates as I take in his turquoise eyes, red and heavy. Now I feel stupid for bringing my pitiful, selfish wants to him when he’s in the midst of something awful. I shake this off and chew on my lip momentarily. “Trey, I’m sorry to disturb you, but—”

“No, it’s fine.” He steps aside, welcoming me into his office. “Please come in.”

His hospitable manner surprises me. I step past him and into the large office. It distinctly reminds me of Bob and Steve’s inviting library, with books lining the walls, strange artifacts punctuating different areas, and beautiful tapestries hanging here and there. A large wooden desk sits in the middle of the room. On it is a stained glass lamp that gives off a brilliant array of colors and lights. Trey pulls himself up to his desk. He indicates the leather armchair opposite him. The chair is firm and the leather cool under my skin.

Trey stares straight at me with his hands folded on his desk. His expression is playing at sincerity, but I don’t buy it. One doesn’t master the art of manipulation without garnering trust. “You have something you want to ask me?”

“Yes,” I say, trying to catch my breath, feeling a bit surprised that it escaped me suddenly. “I know you said that we’re not supposed to dream travel, but I’ve made plans to leave the Institute. I’m going to live with Bob and Steve and—”

“Wait, what? When?” Trey leans forward, frowning.

“I’ve been trying to find you, but you haven’t really been around. I’m scheduled to leave today,” I say, mustering confidence even though I feel submissive and weak.

“I know I have been absent. I’m working on something,” Trey says, spreading his hands out on his desk.

“Well, that’s no matter at this point.” I try to take charge of the conversation, thinking this will work in my favor after my request. “Anyway, I’m here because I know you said we can’t dream travel right now, but I need to in order to leave. All I’m going to do is travel to the central GAD-C, generate, and then I’ll be safe in Bob and Steve’s protection.”

Trey’s shaking his head at me before I’m even done talking. “No, you’re not going.”

“But that’s not fair! I’ll be fine,” I say. “It’s not too dangerous.”

“Roya, this isn’t about fairness.”

“Look, I’m sorry that Aiden is missing.” My breath hitches in my throat. Seeps from my being. My face must be an awful shade of burgundy at this point. Trey can’t know how I feel. He can’t. “It’s awful that something has happened to him, but that doesn’t negate the fact that I’m leaving the Institute.”

“You’re not leaving,” Trey says rather calmly.

“It isn’t too dangerous.” I continue to argue with him even though I’m not saying anything new. “I can make it and I’ll be fine.”

“I’m not saying you’re not going because it’s too dangerous, although it is,” Trey says, sitting back in his chair. “You’re not going because we need you.” He pauses, tucks his chin, and looks at me intently. “We need you to bring Aiden back.”

Chapter Sixteen

S
tunned. There’s no other word for it. This is not the answer I expected. At all. I anticipated Trey to tell me no, or dismiss me, or even not to grace me with his time and attention during this demanding period. I never expected that he needed me to rescue Aiden. My stomach turns over twice before I find my voice.

“What?”

“Specifically, we need you to lead the rescue mission, but I’ll explain everything to you in twenty minutes. I was about to send a note requesting that you and the team meet me in room 222.” He stands and strides to the door, opening it for me. “Please be there and I’ll fill you in on the whole situation.”

My legs stand without a command from my brain. Footsteps carry me over the threshold. I’m truly on autopilot at the moment. My brain registers the sound of Trey’s door sliding closed behind me and the sight of the empty hallway, but I have zero idea what’s going on in my head and my heart. Those parts have retreated to a storm shelter. Vaulted away, unable to properly deal with the idea that Aiden is gone and his safety depends on me. The part of me currently controlling my body is all instinct—my autonomic nervous system. This portion of me which for all of my life has controlled my breathing, heartbeat, and blinking is now taking on the extra burden of putting each foot in front of the other again and again and again.

♦

Fifteen minutes later I awake on the floor of my room. I don’t remember going there. I don’t know how I ended up on the floor. All I know is I have five minutes to put myself together before I’m expected in room 222. I haven’t the slightest idea how to avoid going to this meeting or accepting the role Trey has volunteered me for. It doesn’t make any sense that he’s chosen me over Ren or Shuman or a dozen other people. What’s going to happen to Aiden if I’m in charge of his fate? A dull throbbing takes residence in my chest. Aiden. Where is he? Who has him? Why? Is he all right? Could he be dead?

Dead.

The word, and its possible connection to Aiden, assaults my chest. My heart has been encased in a box too small for it. Each beat is accompanied by aching pressure as my heart tries to contract, but can’t fully.

If I’m going to be forced to stay at the Institute during this tumultuous time, then I’ll only survive this by distracting myself from this pain. Maybe there’s no better way to do that than to be thrown into this mission. But first I need answers. A lot of them.

♦

When I arrive in room 222, Ren, Shuman, and George are already present. Sitting. Not talking. These are not people to make small talk. Right now I like this about them.

My eyes seize a painting taking up the far wall. An abstract composition of blues and greens reminding me of the ocean. It definitely wasn’t there the last time I was in here.

“Hey,” George says, pulling out the chair next to him. I take the seat, gauging his expression. It doesn’t give anything away. Neither does Shuman’s. Both have sullen expressions, which is pretty typical for them. Ren, on the other hand, looks quite out of the ordinary. For one, he has a greenish bruise around his eye, a two-inch cut along his check, and his hands are battered. He isn’t looking at anyone, but rather staring at the table. Usually he’d be flaunting his arrogance around, making snide remarks accompanied by hateful sneers. Instead he looks humbled. Hopefully this new demeanor will stick around for a while.

Joseph and Samara arrive looking uncomfortably subdued. They slip into the chairs on the other side of me. I have the urge to reach out and hug Joseph. Partly because I need the comfort and also because it looks as though he does too. He appears lonely sitting in his leather jacket and looking at his hands like they aren’t his own. Hard to believe only a few weeks ago he was full of life. Not just full of life; he provided so much of the energy around this place. Now that he’s become a zombie, the Institute is colder than ever before. Joseph looks up at my spying eyes and nods his chin. His expression is a mix between sympathy and concern.

He leans down low so only I can hear him. “You wanna talk later?”

“To you?”

“Well, that’s better than to yourself, which you do too much already.” It’s a joke, but neither of us laughs or breaks our stony expressions.

“Let’s just figure out why we’re here,” I say, wishing I had something I could do with my hands.

He nods and leans away.

A short girl with soft brown hair rushes into the room seeming lost. She stops and stares around the table, then takes a seat at the far end. I’ve never seen her before. She’s rail thin, with tiny wrists and arms which are covered in freckles.

My attention is withdrawn from her when Trent enters talking animatedly to the white coat I’d met more than a month ago. James. He has wild, curly brown hair and pronounced canines. If a Viking and teddy bear mated, he’d be the result. Trent says something and James responds with a nervous laugh. Ren flicks his eyes up, giving them both a punishing look. James takes a seat and the room falls deadly silent.

The silence is about to drive me mad when Trey walks in, shutting the door behind him. His face is drawn, strict. “Thank you for joining me here.” The Head Official picks up a dry erase marker and writes one word on the board:

Voyageurs

With a brutal look in his eyes he taps the marker on the board. “The Voyageurs, that’s who took Aiden. Before I brief you on the abduction, I’ll share the history with you. Without the background you might be confused and it’s best if we start off this mission with everyone focused and clear on all details.” Trey clears his throat. Everything he does is robotic. “Flynn founded the Institute, but shortly afterward he recruited Pierre, his research partner. They worked together, traveled together, and both had a vision of protecting Dream Travelers and Middlings. Flynn’s focus was technology, and Pierre’s, abilities. Under their leadership the Institute gained momentum and more and more Lucidites joined and found solace within these walls.

“However, an irreconcilable dispute ensued between the two men, and they parted ways. Flynn naturally held onto the Institute and Pierre founded his own place in France—the Grotte.”

He runs his fingers through his silver hair, examining each face in the room. “The Voyageurs spend the majority of their focus honing abilities. Whereas we focus on abilities, science,
and
strategic ops. Although dream travel investigation only revealed
how
Aiden was abducted, I suspect
why
the Voyageurs took him is because they’re deficient in scientific advances. Before, they relished that they didn’t rely on the technologies that we prided ourselves on, but now I think they’ve realized their shortcomings. Currently they’re not guarded by shields or protective charms of any type. Furthermore, they have no devices, with the exception of one GAD-C. For too long they have boasted about not needing technology, but times are changing and Dream Travelers must protect themselves from all sources of conflict or we’ll pay the price. Pierre knows this and has acted in order to protect his people.”

Trey gives a heavy sigh. “Actually, let me make a correction. I speculate Pierre’s actions are a result of fear and vengeance. I’m working hard to prove this, but no matter his reason it doesn’t change the circumstances. Once Aiden has been returned we will learn the Voyageur’s pure motives—which I suspect to be selfish, as well as dishonorable.” There’s acid in his tone, which is new. Even when Trey spoke about Zhuang his voice didn’t carry
this
anger.

“They’ve been planning this attack for a while. It isn’t just a strategic move, but also one based on a long-running vendetta.” Anger burns on every feature of Trey’s face. “Could they have recruited their own scientist? Yes. But they took ours. Now I’m the first to admit that Aiden is among the best, but still this is not the act of people who operate under diplomacy. Amber has been spying for them and she’s the one responsible for executing Aiden’s abduction.”

Amber! She’s responsible for this?
Heart pounding, I lean forward, perched on the edge of my chair.

“She drugged him and escaped through the dry-dock. It was this breech that first alerted our attention to the problem. What complicates matters is that Aiden recently invented a new piece of technology known as the dream blocker. The device prevents the wearer from dream traveling. It has been impossible to abduct a Dream Traveler in the past because this technology didn’t exist. If captured, a person could always dream travel and regenerate their body. This has always been our biggest challenge when tracking Zhuang. Anyway, Aiden’s technology has now made this a new reality and I’m sorry to say he’s the first person to suffer because of it. The dream blocker has been stolen and I’m certain it will prevent him from returning.”