Threader (16 page)

He searches my face while he waits for my answer. But I'm not fooled by his apparent concern.

‘I don't remember,' I choke out. The heat and attraction I felt earlier is gone now, frozen in this horrible realisation that if we're sharing dreams, the lock must really exist.

Blake frowns, as if he knows this is the wrong answer. ‘You know, if your talents are locked, you can't ignore it. Your basic training will be the main focus for a while, but soon the function of your talents will be what matters most to Helios. I've heard that Director Eckhart has taken a special interest in your situation. Not many cadets here get that kind of specialised attention.'

‘If there was an issue with my talents, I would know about it,' I say, but there's no conviction in my voice.

‘Yeah?' Blake's eyebrows rise. ‘I heard about the failed threading session with my little brother.'

‘How did you know about that?'

‘Because Aaron found me after and asked if there was anything going on between us. I told him I had no idea if there was an issue with our talents being locked. I can't sense anything and my talent works fine.'

‘Maybe I've just had a case of nerves,' I say hotly. ‘Maybe all I need is more practice.'

‘Something I'm sure Aaron is looking forward to,' Blake says dryly. ‘Do you know the warning signs to look out for? Eckhart filled me in. Told me we had to report any signs to himself or the techie he works with, Wendell.'

‘Oh, I know what to look out for. Believe me, I don't feel any unusual attachment to you.'

‘Is that right?'

‘You bet it is. You're a big jerk, for starters.'

‘You're sure?'

‘About you being a jerk? I'm pretty sure that's been checked and verified.'

Any other insults I had for him are cut short when Blake suddenly pulls me to him and kisses me. The moment his lips touch mine, wildfire sweeps through my body, filling me with a blazing want. I want more of him. I need more of him. My whole body screams for it and my mind is a roaring furnace. Before I can think about what I'm doing, I'm kissing him back, my hands pulling at his shirt, trying to tear it off. It's like I suddenly feel like I won't be whole unless I'm with him—

Blake lets me go abruptly and I stare up at him in shock. Triumph gleams in his eyes. ‘I knew it. You dreamed of me last night. You know how I know?' His lips curl up in a sly smile. ‘I was there, Little Miss Lone Wolf and I know you want me bad.'

‘Oh, god.' I slap a hand over my mouth. ‘I'm going to be sick.'

‘You should leave.' Blake straightens his t-shirt. ‘Report it to Wendell. She'll get things started to fix this.'

That night, as if my mind has heard the warning, I don't dream of Blake. But my sleep is restless and I wake groggy. After clearing my head with a shower, I go and find Wendell in one of the sub-level medical bays. Though it's a Saturday, Wendell looks like she's preparing for a long day of work. She's talking to Archer, and pointing to something on her slate screen. When they finish, Archer spots me and walks over with a friendly smile.

‘How you doing?' he asks. ‘Managing to catch up on everything?'

‘Sort of,' I say, my eyes darting to Wendell, anxious to catch her while I can.

‘You here for some evaluation work?'

‘Um … maybe.'

Archer gives me a curious look, then shrugs. ‘Well, let me know if you need any help. I'm not the biggest brains at the academy, but I'm pretty good on the combat mats.'

‘Thanks.' Seeing Wendell begin to walk away, eyes trained on her slate, I give Archer a quick wave, then hurry after her. She sees me approach and stops, closing her screen and pocketing her slate.

‘What is it?' she asks.

I clear my throat nervously. ‘The lock Eckhart told me about. It's there. I mean,
really
there.'

Wendell's face tightens. ‘What's happened? Omit no details, no matter how small.'

‘Blake and I shared a dream.' I stick to the facts, rubbing my sweaty palms against my trousers. ‘Also, my TP can find him anywhere. I've been able to do that before, but never so precisely with someone I don't really know.'

‘What kind of dream was it?' Wendell asks.

‘Hard to make sense out of it,' I hedge. ‘The important thing is we both had it. But you can fix it, right?'

Wendell grills me a little longer, then pulls her slate back out and punches in some notes. ‘I'm scheduling in extra sessions at the beginning and end of your days to work with me on the issue. I know of a TP contractor who can come in if we need help.'

‘Has it been done before?' I ask. ‘Breaking a lock?'

‘I've been doing some research on this issue. Threaders aren't common, so documented cases of breaking locked talents are rare. I've only managed to find a few case studies, including the attempts to break them. It will be difficult, but I'm confident we can do it.'

I hesitate, then ask, ‘Does Blake have to be involved?'

After the humiliating kiss between us in his room, I was keen to avoid all contact with the slider.

To my relief, Wendell shakes her head. ‘That won't be necessary. If anything, I think it would make things worse. Being in close proximity while you're potentially vulnerable could bond you both tighter. It's what caused this problem to begin with.' She finally registers my worried face and pats my shoulder. ‘This issue will be resolved, Josie. Try not to let it worry you.'

I watch her retreating back go with a frown. Don't let it worry me? Was she serious? This was my future we were talking about. Shaking my head, I head for the elevator. At this point, I wasn't sure even fresh coffee would help me.

The next few weeks are a whirlwind of study and training. In the morning, I jog with Darsh and Cora before breakfast to get my fitness levels up. By the third day, Cora begs off and it's just me and Darsh. I hold back from asking him again about getting information on James and Alice. He may be a talented technopath, but I don't want to get him into trouble by encouraging him to break into classified files.

After my jog each day, I attend half hour morning sessions with Wendell in a featureless evaluation room. Some mornings I wear a bulky brain-scanning helmet that digs into my scalp and smells like fish oil. Sometimes Director Eckhart or Aaron show up to watch.

Whenever I sense that Eckhart is in a good mood, I try to quiz him either about my parents or why I've been invited to the fundraiser dinner, but he's cagey about both.

‘Keep your focus on breaking the lock,' he tells me. ‘Then we can talk.'

I know he's trying to provide me with motivation. If I can break the lock with Blake, then he would tell me more about my parents. But withholding the information makes me feel a little resentful. They were my parents and I deserve to know everything about them.

When Aaron's there, we sometimes try small threads which inevitably fail, leaving me more frustrated each time, though Aaron just brushes these failures off. His mood is always light, and when he holds my hand, it's with a gentle touch, as if he thinks I'm made of glass. It feels strange to me, and I can't work out if I'm annoyed or flattered by his gentle attitude.

Wendell quizzes me regularly on how the lock feels, but I struggle to find the words to describe it. I never mention the image of Blake lying beneath me in the dream that occasionally haunts my sleep. Or the devastating kiss in his room that nearly knocked my knickers off. I remind myself every time that my feelings are just a product of the lock and that Blake had only kissed me to prove a point. This doesn't stop me from wanting to see him, though that want is mixed with a healthy dose of dread. But with Eckhart and Wendell's warning about keeping clear of Blake embedded firmly in my mind, I make do with only glimpses of him in the canteen or the greens.

One Friday morning session, Wendell sits down opposite me wearing a patient look. ‘We're not making as much headway as I'd like, so I'm going to bring in a contractor for a different approach.'

‘How different?' I ask cautiously.

‘Something similar to TP shock-wave therapy,' Wendell says. ‘But don't worry, it's very safe.'

That night at dinner in the canteen, I sit with Cora and Darsh, almost falling asleep over a plate of fried rice. Between trying to catch up with my studies and Wendell's extra sessions, I'm exhausted. Cora is eating some sushi and chatting about her new slide ‘buddy', Jeremy Murphy, and I get the impression she's quite taken with him. Darsh listens quietly, barely touching his chicken schnitzel and salad. I can't focus exactly on what Cora is talking about though, because Blake is sitting at the back of the room at a table by himself, reading a book. I fix my weary eyes determinedly on my plate, but when a female cadet approaches Blake and starts flirting, I almost can't focus on anything else.

Managing to tear my gaze from them, I spy Dutch watching me from across the room. He grins, showing far too much teeth to be friendly. I quickly look away, just in time to see the female cadet brush a hand against Blake's arm and laugh. My eyes narrow.

‘Are you alright?' Cora glances behind her to see what I'm staring at. Her eyes fix on Blake, then she turns to me with a frown. ‘How are the sessions with Wendell going? They sound kind of brutal.'

‘Fine.' I glare at my food, as if my rice is to blame for everything.

‘I heard Blake's going away on an assignment soon,' Cora adds casually. ‘You might be able to relax then.'

I look up. ‘What are you talking about?'

‘Please.' Cora snorts. ‘I see you searching around for him all the time. And when you do see him, you get all tense and your eyes get weird.'

‘They do not,' I protest, even though I'm pretty sure she's right.

Cora looks at Darsh. ‘Back me up here.'

Darsh raises his hands. ‘I'm not getting involved in this. Josie can pull as many crazy faces as she likes.'

I get to my feet. ‘I'm going outside for some air.'

‘Oh, come on, Josie,' Cora calls after me. ‘I was only joking.'

But I don't stop. I have to be alone. Outside, the air is cold and I walk aimlessly, my eyes trained on the ground.

‘Josie.'

I almost wince at the sound of Blake's voice. I sternly instruct my feet to keep going, but they betray me and stop. I turn to glare at him.

‘What?' I snap, as if I've got better places to be.

One corner of Blake's mouth twitches, like he wants to smile, but is thinking better of it. ‘I thought you should know a friend of mine from Soteria Security has been contracted to do some work here by Wendell, so I'm guessing it's for you.'

‘So?'

Blake shoves his hands in his pockets. ‘Look, I can vouch for her, my friend. You can trust her. Her name's Amy Vogel. She's a TP and one of the best.'

‘Great. I'll tell her you said hello.' I go to move away, but Blake touches my arm, a silent request that I stay and listen. The contact sends shivers through my body.

‘Vogel specialises in information retrieval, Josie,' Blake says. ‘Along with the ability to remove memories and implant new ones.'

‘Why would they need someone like that?' I try to back up a step, make sure there's a respectable distance between us.

‘I don't know any details about the contract. Vogel's work is usually classified, though I have heard she's done black contracts for the Espercorp. She's got an intuitive grasp of navigating and manipulating people's minds. But these TP procedures can be very painful. I wanted to tell you, so you're prepared for whatever she's going to try.'

I hunch my shoulders and rub my arms. ‘What do you care?'

Blake wipes a hand across his mouth, frowning. ‘I'm going away for a bit and I can't help you if something goes wrong.'

‘I don't need your help,' I point out.

‘I'll be back in time for the fundraiser.' He ignores my comment. ‘Aaron and I are always expected to attend to represent the Galloway family. Olivia will be there as well, it's her first time at one of these things.' He pauses, then adds, ‘If you're having any issues with what Vogel does with you, I want you to tell me.'

I want to ask him if he knows why I've even been invited to the fundraiser in the first place, and if it was usual for a cadet to attend. But the question sticks in my throat. It feels too much like asking for help.

My eyes fall on his sideburns and stubble, and I try to imagine him in a tuxedo and clean shaven. ‘You going to shave?'

Blake blinks. ‘Do you want me to?'

‘I was just curious.' I can't tell if he's being serious or making fun, so I change the subject. ‘How did you know I'd make it to Helios?'

‘What?'

‘How did you know I'd make it?' I repeat. ‘The slide. After you came to, you kept going to Helios. How did you know I'd make it that far?'