Hunted (Talented Saga # 3)

by Sophie Davis

  A sharp knock on the door echoed inside the hotel room. So much for peace and quiet, I thought with a groan, and imaged Mac, back to lecture me about my medications or worse, my attitude. “I know, make sure to take my injection before dinner,” I said, throwing the door open with my mind.

  “Well, hello to you, too,” a voice that was most certainly not Mac’s replied.

  I raised my head so fast that stars dotted my first glimpses of Erik Kelley. “Oh, my god, it’s you,” I cried, jumping from the mattress, practically throwing myself across the room and into his waiting arms. When I had talked to him the night before, he was unsure whether he would be arriving tonight or tomorrow morning.

  Erik wrapped me in a warm embrace as my head smacked against his well-muscled chest. “I’ve missed you,” he whispered against my hair, running his hand over the tangled dark curls. He tightened his hold on me, crushing my body to his. I buried my face in his neck and let him half-carry, half-drag me from the doorway. Erik mimicked my telekinetic abilities to slam the door shut behind us. Slowly, he lowered me to my feet. I drew back from him and locked his turquoise eyes with my purple ones.

  I had been waiting for this moment since watching him board the plane back to Elite Headquarters two weeks prior. Seeing Erik in person, holding him, feeling the hard planes of his body against mine, was so much better than talking to him on the communicator.

  Standing on my tiptoes, I stretched to fix my lips against his. I gripped handfuls of his navy button-down, pulling him closer to me. The electricity I always felt when we touched crackled between us. He wound his fingers through the belt loops of my black dress pants, pulling my hips into his as he kissed me back.

  My head spun and my heart thudded as I stumbled toward the huge bed that I’d just vacated. Erik lowered himself onto the mattress, perching on the edge. Sitting, while I stood, made his mouth level with mine. His fingers toyed with the edge of my sweater, then slid underneath the soft fabric; I wrapped my arms around his neck. He traced the scars that marred the flesh above the waist of my pants. My breath caught in my throat, but I refused to break the kiss even though the lack of oxygen was making me lightheaded.

  Erik moved his hands up my back, sending tingles dancing along my skin. His touch was light, like feathers tickling my flesh. His heart thudded heavily in his chest, his pulse quickening when I broke away to kiss his neck. Erik moved his hands to cup the back of my neck and gently pushed me away just enough so that he could see my face. Our ragged breaths were in unison as he ran the pads of his fingers over my cheeks and then traced the contours of my mouth. I stared into turquoise eyes that sparkled in the early evening light streaming through the small window. The golden sunshine danced through his dark hair, threading dark brown highlights through the black.

  “You sure know how to make a guy feel welcome,” he whispered, his face so close that we breathed the same air. Heat rushed to my face, I had practically attacked him, after all. Erik chuckled. “Don’t be embarrassed. I like it when you’re the aggressor.” He arched his eyebrows suggestively, and I thought that I might spontaneously combust. Erik shifted to prop himself against the pillows by the headboard on the bed.

  “Come here,” he whispered when I didn’t immediately follow.

  Taking his outstretched hand, I climbed up next to him and rested my head on his shoulder and my palm against his still-thudding heart.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked, worry dampening the desire that he’d felt moments before. His concern was real, but the way his thumbs caressed my stomach, dipping below the waistband of my pants, said he still had other activities on his mind.

  “I don’t want to talk about my health,” I said coyly, cocking my head so that I could see his face.

  A devilish grin spread across his lips and he bent his head until our lips met again. Twisting, I placed one knee on either side of his hips, straddling his waist. The boldness of my actions surprised us both. Erik tensed slightly. For a brief moment, I worried that I’d been too brazen. When I tried to pull back, Erik’s hands held me firmly in place. Slowly, he slid his palms up my sides, under my sweater, and my stomach muscles clenched painfully in anticipation when he reached the edge of my bra. Erik broke the kiss long enough to push my shirt up over my head.

  I shivered even as my skin burned under his touch. Fumbling with the buttons on Erik’s shirt, I tried to remove the material that separated us. Nerves made my hands tremble and I couldn’t grip the small buttons. Erik gently pried my fingers loose, taking over the task of undressing himself.

  I sat admiring the lean muscles of his bare chest and stomach. I ran my hands over the smooth skin. Erik leaned forward and ran his hands up and down my arms. I titled my head back and felt my curls tumble all the way to my waist. Erik’s mouth closed around the erratically-jumping pulse in my throat. I think I even moaned – it was hard to tell over the blood pounding in my ears – when he trailed kisses, soft as flower petals, across my collarbone.

  “Natalia,” a voice called loudly from the other side of the door, dousing the euphoria of being so close to Erik while wearing so little clothes just as effectively as a bucket of ice water. The next sound from my lips was somewhere between a groan and a whimper.

  My unwanted guest banged insistently.

  “It’s the Director,” Erik mumbled against my ear, flicking the lobe back and forth with his tongue.

  “I know,” I whispered.

  “You should probably answer it,” Erik said, even as he kissed the hollow of my throat.

  “I know,” I repeated, arching my neck farther to give him better access and hating Mac for his untimely interruption.

  “Natalia, open the damn door,” Mac demanded.

  Regretfully, I pulled away and climbed off Erik’s lap. “Coming, Mac,” I called impatiently. Spotting my sweater on the floor, I hastily grabbed the shirt and yanked it over my head. I threw the door forcefully open with my mind.

  “Can I help you?” I barked with as much politeness as I muster.

  “No need for the attitude, Natalia,” Mac replied lightly. He poked his head through the doorway. He eyes narrowed to slits when he took in the sight of Erik sitting shirtless on the hotel bed. “Sorry to interrupt,” he said, not sounding sorry at all. Erik remained silent, but at least had the good grace to look embarrassed. “I just wanted to remind you to take your medication.”

  “Thank you. I will,” I answered with a tight smile.

  “I trust I will see both of you at the welcome reception.” Mac pitched his voice to make sure Erik didn’t miss the command. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Erik nod. “And Natalia?” Mac said, returning his attention to me.

  “Yes?” I snapped, eager to get rid of the Director.

  “Please wear a color other than black.” Mac’s eyes ran the length of my wrinkled mourning outfit, narrowing on the hem of my shirt.

  I followed his gaze, blood rushing to my face when I realized what he was staring at. My sweater was inside out. Erik had obviously noticed, too. He snickered loudly to show his amusement. “Yes, sir,” I replied with a mock salute, trying to cover the awkward moment.

  Mac gave one last disapproving glare in Erik’s direction before retreating. I rolled my eyes at his back. Mac was just looking out for me, I knew that, but the constant reminders to take my medication were as unwelcome as his interruption.

  Walking over to my collection of unpacked bags, I rifled through the contents until I found the medical kit that Dr. Thistler had so thoughtfully included in my belongings. The syringes and vials of the good doctor’s equalizer were neatly packed in two metal cases with the Agency’s logo carved on the tops. I unsnapped the metal hooks fastening the first case. Twenty-five white plastic tubes with long, sharp needles gleamed back at me. I ran my fingers lightly over the case’s contents that were the bane of my existence.

  “Why don’t I do it?” Erik said quietly, startling me out of my self-misery.

  “No, I got it,” I whispe
red back.

  My hands shook slightly when I unclasped the hooks of the other case. I withdrew one small glass container with a yellowish liquid and unscrewed the cap. I selected one of the syringes from the first case, inserted the tip end into the serum, and slowly pulled the plunger out of the tube. The plastic filled with the equalizer.

  Heaving an enormous sigh, I rested the filled syringe on the bedside table. Then I climbed back up on to the mattress. Erik watched me from his perch among the fluffy pillows, eyes full of concern. His apprehensive expression made the situation that much worse.

  Tearing my gaze away from Erik, I stared back at the bedside table. The needle sat, taunting me. I’d become accustomed to receiving the daily injections; they’d been part of my routine since I’d returned from my failed mission in Nevada. But until now, I hadn’t actually had to administer the shot myself; I didn’t realize how hard it would be. I loathed needles, and I’d always hated the sight of my own blood. Feeling it soak through my clothes, sticky and hot, made me hate it even more.

  Erik’s warm hands slid under my shirt and over my ribs. I leaned my back against his chest gratefully. Straddling me from behind, he carefully worked my arm from the sleeve of my sweater and reached for the syringe. Erik tore open the alcohol swab, then rubbed the crook of my elbow with the damp square.

  “Ready?” he mumbled into my ear.

  I nodded, averting my gaze from the sight of the needle poised over the blue vein already bulging against my flesh. It was as if my blood were calling for the drug. Erik placed his chin on my shoulder and used his free hand to hold my arm steady. Every muscle in my body went rigid as the point pierced my skin. But the instant the chemicals hit my bloodstream, I sagged with relief. Calm spread through me, like the ocean after a storm. I hadn’t even realized how tense I was until just then.

  Erik held me while I reveled in the aftermath of the injection, like a junkie. I hated how dependent I was on the drug.

  “Better?” he asked after a couple of minutes.

  “Better,” I agreed with a contented sigh, sleepy now that the medication was working its magic in my system. I lazily navigated my exposed arm back into the sweater.

  Erik set the used needle on the table and wrapped his arms around my waist. He pulled me farther back on the bed. Gratefully, I curled my body against his and basked in the feel of his bare skin against my cheek.

  Mac’s interruption had broken the mood earlier. Now reality was preventing me from finishing what I started. While the injection put me at ease, the unfortunate truth was that I was sick, and with every passing day, I became more and more convinced that my condition was permanent.

  My future within the Agency was uncertain. If I couldn’t return to the Hunters, what would I do? Would I even get another chance to kill Crane? Did I even want to? After everything with Penny, I didn’t know what to believe. And Crane was the only person left alive that could tell me for sure whether what she’d shown me in the court room was real.

  “None of that matters right now, Tals. Just rest,” Erik sent, reading the concerns from my mind as quickly as I thought them.

  My eyelids became heavy. The tumultuous swirling emotions finally quieted. Tension ebbed from my muscles, seeming to leak out of my pores. “Don’t let me sleep too long.” I slurred my words, letting Erik bear the burden of my problems.

  “I won’t.”

  The last thing I remembered was the brush of Erik’s lips across my forehead.

  Chapter Four

  While we waited for the hotel elevator to arrive, Erik and I held hands. The steel doors slid apart, revealing a mirrored interior car. I stepped on and stared at my reflection. Chestnut brown hair fell in large curls down the back of my black velvet jacket. Mac had practically ordered me to wear color, so I had selected a dark gray cocktail dress to go underneath my black coat. The hollows under my eyes were dark from too many sleepless nights to count. Dull, lifeless irises sat like two purple marbles sunken into a face I barely recognized. The jacket had been specially tailored to fit my small frame before I’d come back to the school, but now it hung loosely on my too-thin body.

  Erik’s reflection, on the other hand, revealed beautiful turquoise eyes over high cheekbones and tanned skin. His almost black hair hung perfectly around his face and looked professionally styled even though he’d barely brushed it after his shower. The green dress shirt was tucked into the waistband of his khaki pants. His navy blazer was unbuttoned and the sleeves were rolled up to the elbows, the Agency logo embroidered on the breast pocket.

  The fine lines around the corners of his eyes and mouth were the only outward sign of his inner stress. He tried to keep his mental barricades up so the anxiety wouldn’t seep from his mind and amplify my own. I was touched by his concern, but hated that he thought me weak, felt sorry for me even. We weren’t equals in this relationship. He was a rock, all strength and power. I was fragile, spun glass, ready to break if someone looked at me the wrong way.

  Apparently, there were also cracks in my mental armor, letting my thoughts leak out.

  “You’re beautiful,” Erik insisted, planting a kiss on the top of my head.

  I rolled my eyes. “And you’re a bad liar.”

  “Actually, I happen to be an excellent liar.” I gave him a withering look in the mirrored wall. “Fine, you might be a little skinnier than I usually like my girlfriends, but I’m sure we can take care of that over the next three weeks.” Erik pinched my waist playfully.

  I pushed him away, pretending his comment bothered me. It sort of did. Erik grabbed me from behind, spinning me to face him. He pushed me hard; the handrail collided with my lower back, sending a jolt of pain up my spine.

  “You want to know the truth? You are one of the strongest people I have ever met. And you are definitely the most beautiful, Tal,” he murmured, leaning in so his lips moved against mine when he spoke. His kiss wasn’t gentle. If it were possible, I fell a little more in love with him in that moment.

  The lobby of the Hamilton was lavishly decorated with blue and white wall hangings bearing the Agency logo and each Division’s emblem. The couches scattered throughout the foyer were upholstered in deep red fabrics with gold throw pillows. Tuxedo-clad waiters waded through the crowds of already gathered Operatives and Congressmen, passing out drinks and finger sandwiches.

  Several people turned and stared in our direction when we stepped into the grand room. Their murmured conversations were like verbal assaults to my ears as they whispered to one another phrases like, “She was the girl’s friend”, “She caught that spy”, or “She had to relearn to walk.” Anxiety clouded my mind, and the urge to turn around and run and seek sanctuary in my room was almost too strong to ignore.

  “They’re looking at me, not you. Don’t worry.” Erik smiled. I gave him another eye roll and tried to suppress the grin tugging at the corners of my mouth. I was so glad he was here.

  “Natalia,” Mac called, coming over to greet me. “I have plenty of people that I’d like for you to meet.” Then Mac turned his attention to Erik, pointedly glaring at our intertwined fingers. “Mr. Kelley, I am sure you can find a way to entertain yourself while Natalia mingles.”

  Erik nodded curtly to the Director and gave my hand a brief squeeze. “Call if you need me,” he sent and disappeared into the crowd.

  For the next three hours, I trailed Mac as he mingled and schmoozed with the plethora of politicians that had assembled in the Nation’s capital to celebrate the start of aptitude testing. Many I’d met over the past eight years, some I hadn’t. All were eager to congratulate me on finding the traitor that had infiltrated our government. I kept a smile plastered on my face through the entire ordeal, never giving even the slightest indication that I was anything less than thrilled at the way things turned out.

  When I grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waitress, Mac deftly removed the drink from my hand.

  “Not tonight, Natalia,” he mumbled under his breath.

&
nbsp; Relegated to drinking nonalcoholic beverages, I consumed glass after glass of ice water. Thanks to Mac’s refusal to let me out of his sight for longer than a nanosecond, I had to use the bathroom so badly that I had to fight the urge to cross my legs like a child.

  “I’ll escort you back to your room, Natalia,” Mac declared when the crowd started to thin.

  “I need to make a stop first. No need to wait,” I replied, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

  “Where do you need to stop?” he asked suspiciously.

  I gave him a hard look before answering. “If you must know, I need to pee.”

  “You’re an adult, Natalia. I would think that you could manage to make it to your room first,” he stated, visibly relaxing at my benign answer.

  “I’ve had like eight glasses of water, Mac, I’m going to burst,” I whined.

  “Fine, but please see to it that you find your way to your own room as soon as possible. I would prefer you get some rest before tomorrow morning,” he ordered, his grey eyes boring into me. His unspoken command was crystal clear: Don’t go to Erik’s room.

  “Of course, Director.” I smiled sweetly.

  “Breakfast tomorrow, then?” he asked as though it was a question, but I knew better. It was an order.

  “I’ll see you at seven,” I responded, grateful for his dismissal. Mac nodded curtly before heading to the elevator bank alone.

  In truth, I genuinely did have to use the bathroom so bad it hurt. But I wasn’t a child; I could have made the journey to my room without incident. However, I wanted to find Erik before heading upstairs.

  I spotted him by the bar, sipping amber colored liquid from a large mug engraved with the Toxic logo. He was chatting easily with Cadence Choi. Unlike me, Cadence had chosen to don Agency issued black slacks and a fitted black jacket with the McDonough School’s emblem embroidered over her left breast. Her short black hair was styled neatly just above her shoulders. I’d noticed throughout the evening that I was one of the few Operatives that had forgone the uniform-like attire in favor of a more cocktail appropriate dress.