She rubs her leg. “Nah. My adrenaline was jacked. Too busy dodging invisible weapons to notice.”
I pause. The shadow-blobs scare me and I can see them. Not being able to see the threat must be terrifying. And that reminds me.
“My father wants to know if you are still willing to go on the expedition.”
Elese snorts in derision. “Of course. Who else is gonna protect that pampered ass of yours?”
Thought so.
Despite my fatigue, target practice goes well. Mr. Orange Light winks out more times than ever—my best session so far. It’s either due to being motivated by the attack or because my muscles don’t have the energy to be tense. I’m hoping for the former. There’s no way I’ll be relaxed around shadow-blobs or looters.
When I meet up with Beau after lunch, he’s sporting a similar collection of cuts. His are harder to spot among the spiderweb tattoos around both his elbows.
“Seventeen stitches,” he says, almost proud of the fact.
“You beat me and Elese.”
“But not Niall. He has twenty-five.”
Ouch. Poor guy.
“Don’t look like that,” Beau admonishes. “Doc gave him the day off, the lucky bugger. He gets to lie in bed all day.”
The desire to join him pulses in my chest. Right now heaven would be curling up in bed with Niall. To sleep, people! I doubt I’d have energy to do more. Besides, we’re both injured.
Wait. Concern flares around my heart. “Why did Niall get the day off?”
“It’s nothing to worry about. A couple of his wounds were deep and the Doc was concerned about blood loss. A day in bed should fix him right up. Now, let’s get to work.”
Beau and I entangle with the Q-net and gently probe Jarren’s blockade for a weakness or hole we could slip through. It takes a light touch and super focused concentration. After a couple of hours, I’m straining to stay on task. A headache thumps in my temples. I hate to admit this, and I’ll never say it to Radcliff, but the man is right. Lack of sleep and worming are a bad combination.
Careful, Beau warns.
I back away before my clumsiness sets off the alarm. That was close. Beau and I go to a neutral Q-cluster to regroup.
The door behind us opens. The intrusion of the physical world while deep in the Q-net is an odd sensation. Normally no one bothers us while we’re worming.
“Dorey, I need you for a few minutes,” Morgan says. “It’s important.”
A vibration flutters through the cluster, probably due to Beau’s annoyance over being interrupted.
Stay here, I’ll be back. Beau disentangles.
While I wait, I consider possible routes to DES. I wish I understood exactly how the Q-net transmits messages and reports over vast distances without being affected by the time dilation. If I could comprehend the equations used by the Q-net, perhaps I could discover a way to send a message to DES without alerting Jarren. However, I’d need another four years of advanced mathematics just to learn the basics.
The pain in my head intensifies. I cross my arms on the desk and rest my forehead on them. There’s nothing of interest in this cluster. To me, a cluster is like a cavern in a cave system that has a bunch of narrow tunnels leading to and away from it.
This cluster only has one tunnel coming in and one going out. Rather boring until the “walls” turn transparent. That’s never happened before. Beyond the cluster is—star roads!
And then I’m flying. I swirl and dip and swim through the Q-net. It’s exhilarating. It’s amazing. I’m…welcomed. Embraced. Twirled and flung to the very edges of space. Time is fluid and spread across the universe like peanut butter on bread. All the answers are right here. I could find a way to DES. But DES is such a tiny part of the Q-net. It’s irritating. A parasite. Better to soar along the star roads. To become—
“Ara!” Beau shakes my shoulder. “Wake up.”
The Q-net shrinks. Once again the “walls” are opaque and I’m confined to the dull Q-cluster. I mourn the loss.
“Disentangle. Now,” he orders.
“I’m okay.” I sit up. The motion ignites the pain in my head and I press my fingertips on my temples to keep my skull from exploding. Imagining Beau’s office walls covered with bits of splattered brain doesn’t help.
“Disentangle.” Beau’s tone is firm.
The effort sends spikes of fire from my hair to my toes. Ouch. I pull out my tangs then cradle my head in my hands, closing my eyes.
“Should I call the doctor?” he asks.
“No. I just need a painkiller.”
Beau rustles around, opening drawers. The door creaks open. It’s quiet for a few seconds before his footsteps sound.
“Here.”
I open one eye. He hands me a glass of water and two pills. Ah. I down them in one gulp—relief can’t come soon enough.
“That was really dangerous and stupid,” Beau says.
“I…” At a loss for words, I consider what happened. The sensations and feelings I experienced were similar to when I’d died, which should alarm me, but it doesn’t.
“You, what?”
“I didn’t know I fell asleep. I just thought…” This time he waited for me to find the right description. “I thought I’d found the…heart of the Q-net.” And it was just about to reveal itself to me. Crazy, I know.
“Which is why you never ever fall asleep while entangled. Stars, girl. You could have gone catatonic.”
Now he’s being dramatic. “There’s only a very tiny chance.” Almost everyone who dozes off wakes up disentangled.
“With your track record, I wouldn’t be surprised if you fall into that tiny percentage.” His tone is hard and angry. “And don’t forget, I woke you. Who knows what would have happened if you’d slept longer or deeper.”
I may have found a way to communicate with DES. However, I keep that to myself or risk having my head examined.
“Well, you’re no good to me now,” he says, still grumpy. “Go get some rest.”
I’m about to protest when I recall how I almost triggered an alarm before I fell asleep. “Okay.”
He squints at me in suspicion. I turn to go before he can question me, then pause, remembering to ask him about the encounter with the HoLFs. “Did you feel anything before they attacked?”
Beau rubs his arm. “Yeah, cold. The pits are always damp, but there was a wave of cold air that hit me from behind right before you told me to duck. Why?”
I explained how that could alert the officers guarding the pits. “Also, are you still willing to go on the expedition to Pit 21?”
“I’m insulted that you thought you needed to ask.”
“Not me, my father.”
Beau grunts. “You know my answer.”
I did.
“On your way out tell Morgan I’ll be finished with the analysis sooner than expected. Seems I have some free time this afternoon.” He gives me a pointed look.
“Is that what Morgan interrupted us for?” I ask.
“No. There was a situation in detention. Morgan rearranged roommates and needed a couple extra guards to keep everyone civil.”
“Another riot?”
“No. Nothing on that scale. It was a fight between two prisoners. Tempers have been flaring. Morgan’s mixing it up so two people don’t get on each other’s nerves as often, give some a cell to themselves for a while, things like that, hoping to settle everyone down. You know those cells are too small for even one person let alone two.”
“Actually, I don’t. I’ve never been in one.” I smirk.
“Brat.” He gives me a grudging smile, though. “If you’re feeling better, I have—”
“Ow, my head.” I press my hand to my forehead and skedaddle before he can assign me to some mundane task.
I relay his message to Morgan and then head back to my unit. Except I stop outside Niall’s instead. Standing there, I debate. The desire to check on him and ensure he’s okay wars with being unwilling to disturb hi
s rest.
The door opens before I can make up my mind. Niall’s wearing pajama pants and nothing else. Oh my stars.
His bare torso is sculpted with muscles. The desire to run my hands over his chest presses on me. Then I spot the lacerations along his arms and shoulders. And the gash on his forehead sports a row of stitches. His hair is damp and slicked back from a recent shower. The intoxicating scent of sage grass reaches me, confirming my guess. An image of Niall in the shower sends a bolt of heat through me.
“Something wrong, Mouse?” he asks when I continue to stand there like an idiot and stare.
“I came to check on you. Beau said…” I draw in a breath—get a grip, girl. “Why aren’t you resting?”
“Because I heard footsteps pause outside my unit. Why didn’t you knock?”
“I didn’t want to bother you.”
He huffs in amusement.
“How are you feeling?” I ask.
Instead of answering, he grabs my hand and tugs me inside, closing the door behind me. I follow him into the small living area. On the floor next to the couch is a sketchpad and pencil. On the open page is a half-finished drawing of…me wearing my security jumpsuit. My posture is tense and I’m wielding my flashlight like a weapon. Wisps of hair frame my face. My expression is…fierce.
I meet Niall’s gaze.
“I’m going to call it ‘Chasing the Shadows’ when it’s done,” he says.
“Technically shadow-blobs.”
“That doesn’t sound as good.”
“You never answered my question.”
He pulls me down to sit next to him on the couch. “I’m much better now that you’re here.”
“Have you rested at all?”
“I slept until a decadent hour. Besides, drawing is relaxing and you were on my mind.” He drapes his arm over my shoulder, tucking me close.
The scent of his shampoo is now mixed with a decidedly male musk. I inhale, filling my lungs.
“Beau said you needed twenty-five stitches.”
He snorts in derision. “Everything’s a competition with him.”
Still. “Your dad’s worried about the expedition to Pit 21. My dad—”
“I’m still going.”
No surprise. I snuggle in, resting my head on his shoulder.
“Aren’t you supposed to be worming with Dorey?” he asks.
I explain what happened and endure the admonishments. Good thing I didn’t mention flying along the star roads. It’s one of those things that I know I should fess up to, but am reluctant for reasons unknown…Okay, I wish to avoid the unpleasantness that will no doubt occur. Brain scans aren’t fun, people. When I reassure him that my headache has gone—it has—I say, “It got me a few hours off to rest.” I trace the cut on his forehead with a gentle fingertip. “We can rest together.”
Heat flares in his blue-green eyes. Then his lips press on mine and I deepen the kiss. We shift so I’m sitting in his lap and we’re facing each other. I finally get to do what I’ve wanted since he opened the door. I run my hands over his bare skin. He shivers under my touch. Emboldened, I explore the planes of his chest and tangle my fingers in his damp hair. Groaning, he leans forward. I rake my nails lightly down his spine, dipping toward his waistband.
He breaks the kiss off. His eyes shine and he’s a bit breathless. “I fear you have me at a disadvantage.”
I’m well more than a bit breathless. “I do?”
“Yes, and I need to rectify the situation.” He tugs at the bottom of my shirt until it pulls free. Then he pauses, seeking my permission.
My heart rate jacks up as I nod. In one smooth move, he takes off my shirt and tosses it to the floor. He studies me and I’m super glad I’m wearing a decent bra. It’s not sexy, ’cause I wasn’t expecting this when I dressed. His hands snake around me and grab the clasp of my bra. Again he waits for my nod before unhooking the garment. I’m impressed with his skill and gasp when he cups my breasts. Fire races over my skin and gathers deep down.
Niall reclaims my lips and then it’s all raw sensations and pulsating desire. Being skin to skin heightens each touch. After a good long time, we stop to catch our breaths. Somehow we ended up lying down on the couch side by side.
“You’re beautiful, Mouse,” Niall whispers in my ear.
His words warm my insides. I stroke his cheek, rubbing my thumb over the stubble on his jaw.
He grabs my wrist. “You’re bleeding.”
One of my stitches ripped open. I didn’t even feel it. Of course now that I’m aware of it, pain needles into my arm. I’d ignore it, but Niall insists on bandaging it. And when he gets up to fetch the first aid kit, I see that he’s torn a few of his as well.
By the time we’re done, I’m cold and hug my arms to my chest. Niall grabs a blanket and we return to the couch. He covers us and nestles in next to me. It’s warm and comfortable and I can’t keep my eyes open. We’ve fallen asleep together before, but this time, with skin on skin, it is so much nicer.
What’s not so nice is the pounding on the door that startles us awake. Niall surges to his feet and goes over to see who’s making all the noise. He turns on the screen.
“It’s my dad,” he says.
Eight
2522:204
“Shit,” I say, scrambling to put on my bra and shirt, tucking it in.
The banging grows louder. Radcliff must be pissed.
Niall glances at me. I’m pulling my hair into a ponytail. He waits a beat before opening the door.
“What’s the emergency?” he asks his father.
“Is Ara with you?” Radcliff demands.
My emotions swing from embarrassed to confused. Shouldn’t Radcliff know exactly where I am?
Niall steps back. “Yes.”
Radcliff storms into the living room. Uh oh. He glares at me. Okay, that’s not the reaction I expected. Not that Niall and I were doing anything wrong, but why is his father angry at just me?
“What did you do to the Q-net?” Radcliff asks.
Wait… “What do you mean?”
“Don’t act innocent. What did you do to prevent me from finding you?”
“Nothing.”
“Don’t lie.”
Oh no, he doesn’t get away with that. I stand up and glare right on back at him. “I’m not. All you need to do is ask the Q-net where I am.”
“I did and it wouldn’t tell me.”
It wouldn’t? Those two words just didn’t go together. The cameras in security are on a closed loop so no one can worm into them and see me. But Radcliff should be able to access that loop. “That doesn’t make sense.”
“Not helping,” Radcliff almost growls.
I pull my tangs from my pocket and head toward Niall’s terminal.
Radcliff grabs my arm. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“To figure out the problem.”
He releases me. “Leave the screen on.”
Seriously? “Put your tangs in and trail me then.”
His surprise lasts a millisecond before he follows me to the terminal. I sit down, insert my entanglers, and suck in a breath.
“What’s wrong?” Niall asks.
The Q-net is different. It’s like someone came in and changed all the colors. The layers shine and appear more…translucent.
“Mouse?”
“Nothing’s wrong.” I access the security camera feeds. They appear to be functioning normally and correctly pinpoint the other officers. But when I inquire about my whereabouts, it shows nothing. Odd. I look at the feeds from the training room earlier today. Elese is there, but I’m…not. And I fail to show up in any of the feeds from the last couple days. In fact, the places where I should have been are changed so it doesn’t look like people are talking to an invisible person. As if I’ve been erased from existence.
“Care to explain that?” Radcliff asks aloud probably for Niall’s benefit. “I can’t. Not yet.” I check the programming and nothing triggered the alarms.
All is as it should be. So what happened? I need to go deeper. Problem is I shouldn’t be able to do it on this terminal and with Radcliff tagging along… Oh well, he’s bound to find out sometime.
I go deeper and examine the protective measures around the security cameras in detail. It’s a slow process and takes a while to tease out the problem. Oh my stars.
“Is that—”
“Yes,” I interrupt Radcliff. “Jarren tried to access the cameras in security.”
“Can he do that?” Niall asks in alarm.
That’s the thing. “Sort of.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means that when I programmed the Q-net to watch our cameras, I had to create a very small link to that closed loop in security—otherwise the Q-net wouldn’t be able to locate the officers or check for intruders. When Jarren wormed into the camera feeds for the base, he found that tiny link. So the Q-net allowed him to view the security feeds, but it removed all images of me.”
“Can it do that?” Niall asks.
Radcliff is quiet. Too quiet. And that worries me.
“Obviously, but, more importantly, why did it do it?” I dig into the cluster. “Huh.”
“Huh, what? Talk to me, Mouse.”
“When I was setting up the programs for monitoring the base’s cameras, I must have inadvertently included an extra protection around my image.” I don’t remember doing it, but I was worried about Jarren finding me at the time. “So when Jarren wormed into the feeds, the Q-net translated that into erasing my image. It’s odd, but it saved me.”
“But if Jarren was worming into the feeds, why didn’t it alert us?” Niall asks.
“He didn’t trigger any of the alarms.” Disgust that our measures weren’t enough mixes with admiration for his mad worming skills. He’s still a murdering looter, though.
“Except the Q-net seemed to know he wasn’t supposed to be there.”
True. “Yeah, but without a breach in the security protocols, it couldn’t stop him.”
“The bigger problem is why didn’t it let us know it altered the feeds?” Radcliff asks, but I don’t think he expects me to answer.
It’s a good question. If the Q-net had let Radcliff know, then he wouldn’t have come barging in here accusing me of lying. I shoot him another glare, but he’s not paying attention. Instead, I try to figure out an answer. “The Q-net isn’t programmed to message us if that happens. I can put in a program for any future occurrences.”
Chasing the Shadows Page 12
