Vacant Voices (Blind Barriers Trilogy Book 3)

by Sophie Davis

  “This subject is pure, is that correct?” he asked.

  David and Asher both turned, both standing a little straighter. Clearly, I wasn’t the only one who found the Hawk intimidating. David cleared his throat, and replied, “That is correct. Lark is one of ten pure subjects we have here at Montauk.”

  The Hawk gave a subtle nod. “From your notes, I understand that only sixty percent of all pure subjects respond favorably to treatment.”

  I felt a prick in the crook of my arm and my body became even heavier. I no longer had the strength to turn my head and look at David, though when he responded to the Hawk, there was a definitive note of irritation in his voice that he tried and failed to mask. “Sixty percent is on the higher end of the spectrum in a trial such as this one.”

  My eyes began to droop, and my head was too heavy for my neck to hold. Still, I fought against the chemicals Asher—at least I assumed it was Asher—pumped into my body. I needed to hear the rest of the conversation. The words were important. This discussion mattered. The part of me that was Raven, that was viewing the scene as though on a projector that showed Lark’s thoughts, understood that this memory was a door to the bigger picture of the types of “treatments” David was performing at Montauk. And the part of me that was Lark, that was reliving the scene, had known even then that the exchange between the Hawk, David, and Asher was one she couldn’t forget.

  “For our purposes, sixty percent is unacceptable,” the Hawk replied.

  His tone was even, devoid of any and all emotion. As for David’s response, however, the same could not be said. The therapist was irked, and more than a tad offended, as though he believed the Hawk’s expectations were unreasonable.

  “As you well know, the non-pure—or as we call them, the ‘enhanced’ subjects—have proven much more successful. At this facility, we have only had one subject that did not respond favorably to the implant.”

  I heard David’s response, but his voice sounded distant. My eyes were closed, my head empty. In the darkness, I should’ve felt alone, scared even. But I didn’t. Because I was not alone. They were there, walking out of the shadows to greet me. It wasn’t always like this. Normally, only Lila appeared, with her take-charge attitude and no bullshit demeanor. But today, the other two had decided to show their faces. It had been a long time since I, Lark, had seen Raven, and even longer since Abigail had come to play.

  The Hawk’s voice echoed through the blackness, interrupting our reunion. “And we at Project Sion are very pleased with those results. Although, as you well know, we have had issues with—for lack of a better word—glitching.”

  “Raven!”

  It was Blake’s voice that pulled me from the memory. I blinked several times. My lashes were wet—was I crying?

  “Raven?”

  His voice was softer this time, a little less panicked, too. I stared up into Blake’s jewel-toned eyes and realized was crying, as well. One of his arms was around my waist, the other supporting my back. He held me like baby in his lap, cuddling me as though I was precious to him… as though I was Lark.

  “It’s me,” I managed to say.

  Is that disappointment in his gaze? Did he hope that when I left, Lark would be the one to return?

  Blake sighed, deflating like a tire that had run over a rusty nail. Though his grip on me did tighten. “You scared me,” he admitted, his voice unsteady. “I thought…well, I don’t know what I thought.”

  “I’m sorry. I…I don’t know what happened,” I replied.

  There was a hand stroking my hair. I looked up and saw Adam behind me. He too appeared relieved, but when he spoke, Adam’s tone was stern. “Don’t do that again, okay?”

  A short bark of laughter escaped through my parted lips. “Yeah, I’ll work on that,” I told him sardonically, though my voice shook more than I’d have liked.

  I started to sit up. Blake relaxed his hold, and he helped me when my head began swimming and I couldn’t quite manage to move on my own. “Easy, Raven. You’ve been out for like twenty minutes.”

  Then, Gabe was kneeling beside us, a glass of water in his hand. I reached for it, but he shook his head and held the cup to my mouth himself. The cold liquid felt ambrosial as it slid down my parched throat and spread through my system.

  “Thank you,” I said when I was done, and Gabe had moved the glass away.

  The door banged open. It didn’t take a genius to know that Asher had arrived, and he was pissed. However, I was surprised to learn the source of his ire. “What the hell, Blake? You should have called me the second this happened.”

  “Why? So you could pump her full of whatever drugs you have in that kit?” Blake snapped, his on anger rising to meet Asher’s.

  Asher’s footsteps were heavy, as though he was stomping instead of walking. Which was probably true.

  The cold water had done wonders, and I felt more in control. I wriggled out of Blake’s hold, and turned to face Asher. “I. Am. Fine.” I pointed to the silver briefcase in his hand. “Don’t touch me with anything in there.”

  Some of Asher’s anger dissipated, as his facial features relaxed into a less pissed off expression. “Raven,” he breathed, striding closer to where I knelt beside Blake on the living room floor. I held up my hands as a warning. Asher stopped several feet from us. “What happened?” he asked me.

  Blake started to respond. “I told you—” But between the hand Asher held up to halt Blake’s explanation and the one I placed on his arm to do the same, Lark’s boyfriend clamped his lips shut.

  “Raven?” Asher prompted, his pointed gaze fixed on me. “What happened?”

  I couldn’t tell him about the memory flash. Asher had been in that room. He knew all about the “treatments” taking place behind closed doors at the Montauk institute, and I, Raven, was supposed to be ignorant to those same treatments. What would Asher do if he found out about the messages Lark was sending me by way of her memories?

  “Raven?” Asher placed the silver briefcase on the carpet and placed his hands on his hips, in what I could only assume he imagined to be his “serious” stance.

  “I don’t really know,” I told him honestly. The lie was seamless, since I really didn’t know what I’d witnessed during those twenty minutes. Flustered, I threw up my hands dramatically, embellishing only slightly to sell the act. “One minute we were all talking, and then… I passed out, I think. Or maybe it was more of a faint, if we’re being technical.” Easy, don’t try too hard, I thought, as Asher’s gaze went from questioning to dubious. Taking a deep breath, I added, “I’ve been under so much stress lately. I mean, even before discovering that I’m basically a body snatcher.”

  That seemed to appease Asher, because his expression softened to one of concern, and all traces of doubt left his brown eyes. “Yeah, stress does play tricks on the mind, and you barely touched your lunch earlier.”

  Inwardly, I breathed a sigh of relief. “Guess a girl can’t live on mochas alone, huh?” I tried to joke.

  As if on cue, Adam jumped in. “We did bring over dinner. Maybe it’s time we ate that Chinese?”

  “Good call.” Asher grabbed his silver case from the floor and moved it to the pass-through counter between the kitchen and dining areas. Using the coffee table as leverage, I climbed to my feet. Blake reached to help me, but I waved him off. “Thanks, but I’m okay.”

  All the touching, the holding, the way he seemed to care so much about me, it was wreaking havoc on my emotions. He isn’t yours. That was my mantra. Lark and I shared a physical appearance. Even with my short, brown hair and brown eyes, I looked like Lark. It had to be just as confusing for him as it was for me, maybe even more so.

  “I’ll fix plates,” Adam offered, hurrying to the kitchen.

  “I’ll help,” Gabe said, which was when Asher seemed to really notice the third guy for the first time.

  “Um, who are you?” Asher demanded, his stance immediately becoming alarmed.

  “Asher, this is Gabe.
Gabe, this is Asher,” I explained, using my best manners. “Gabe is Adam’s boyfriend.”

  “Why is he here?” Asher didn’t seem to care that his question came across rude, and he didn’t move to shake Gabe’s hand, even when the other guy extended the greeting.

  It wasn’t that I didn’t understand why Asher was upset, but I still didn’t appreciate the attitude. “Because I invited him,” I replied, matching his annoyed tone.

  Asher finally turned his glare from Gabe to me, but he didn’t seem mad as much as curious. “Why? Why would you do that, Raven?” Pausing to glance around the room, his voice was much softer—as though there was any chance Gabe, Blake, and Adam would’ve missed his next words—when he continued. “Your situation—our situation—here is very sensitive.”

  Smiling sweetly in contrast to my sharp tone, I replied, “I’m aware of our situation and just how sensitive it is, but I need the guest list for Saturday night, and Gabe has a special skill set.”

  Reluctantly, as though it physically pained him, Asher finally accepted Gabe’s handshake. But when he spoke, it was to me. “You hired a hacker?”

  “I didn’t hire him. I mean, he’s not getting paid. He’s just doing me favor,” I said.

  “Hey, man, I was close to Lark. I spent a lot of time with her before…before she was taken away.”

  It was the first time someone had used that phrasing. Most of my little trust circle still referred to it as a “disappearance”. Hearing Gabe’s blunt words struck me hard, like a punch to the gut. And yet, I appreciated his candor. Because he was right. Lark hadn’t disappeared. She wasn’t missing—I mean, she sort of was, but technically she was in D.C.—she’d been taken to an institution. And her parents made that happen. Then, to add insult to injury, they played the victims for the press.

  “For the record, I am against this plan,” Asher said, his gaze panning the room until it finally landed on Gabe. “However, Raven has a strong need for closure, which I do support—from a medical standpoint, I believe it will help Lark heal. But I don’t want more people than necessary involved.” Gabe stiffened. He might have protested, but Asher continued. “You’re here now. I’m assuming Adam has brought you up to date on what’s going on?” Gabe’s head bobbed up and down jerkily. “Fine, then. You do understand that everything having to do with Raven and Lark is sensitive. You can’t go—”

  “Dude. Chill,” Gabe cut him off. “I’m not the type to go shooting my mouth off about someone else’s private affairs.”

  Finally, Asher relented. “Okay. Why don’t we let Raven eat while you guys catch me up on what’s going on.”

  For the next hour, I stuffed my face with Chinese takeout, while Adam, Gabe, and Blake recounted our earlier conversation, leaving out the parts about Montauk and Gabe’s true purpose. Adam did most of the talking. Gabe ate most of the egg rolls. And Blake mostly watched me. I tried not to look at him, not to think about that kiss. But, inside, my heart was breaking. A part of me loved him. Yes, that part was Lark. But having her so close to the surface, having her emerge to share control, made it harder to separate my feelings from Lark’s.

  Unfortunately, Lark didn’t yell at me to stop pining over her boyfriend, which would have made the situation easier. Instead, she remained silent in the recesses of my brain. I wondered if maybe she just wanted to feel his touch, and maybe through me she could. I didn’t know.

  “David is never going to agree to this,” Asher said once Adam finished outlining everyone’s individual roles.

  “Which is why I thought we agreed not to tell him?” Adam replied, glancing toward me, but I was too busy staring at Blake and didn’t notice right away.

  “If you knew David, you’d understand,” Asher explained. Glancing down at his hands, which were clasped tightly in his lap, as though they were foreign to him, Asher added, “He just knows things.”

  “Will he interfere on Saturday?” Blake asked. He’d been quiet for the most part since Asher’s arrival, and I found myself more curious than ever about the thoughts swirling behind those big, beautiful emerald eyes.

  “I don’t know….” Asher hedged as he watched me watch Blake.

  For the next several minutes, no one spoke, save Gabe whose random mutterings were just barely audible over the click-clack of computer keys when he typed. We were all lost in our own worlds it seemed. That was very much the case for me, anyhow.

  In forty-eight hours, I would be face to face with the parents who’d sacrificed their only child’s sanity to cover up their crimes. I wasn’t sure how to feel about that fact. The part of me that was Lark loved her parents and cringed at the thought of hurting either one. Lila didn’t have such qualms and the part of me that was the feisty redhead I’d seen in the video couldn’t wait to serve Eleanor Kingsley her just desserts on a silver platter, right alongside a crust-less cucumber sandwich.

  “It’s getting late, Raven,” Asher’s tired voice broke the silence. “And I wanted to talk to you for a minute before I head out.”

  “You aren’t staying the night?” I asked, surprised.

  With my days in D.C. numbered, and so much still left to happen, I’d assumed Asher would be a permanent fixture on my couch.

  “Not tonight,” he replied simply, then studied my uneasy expression and reconsidered. “Unless you need me here. If you need me, I can—”

  “I can stay,” Blake interjected. The nod he gave Asher was encouraging, but the smile he gave me was shy. “Only if you want. No pressure. I understand if you’d prefer to be alone.”

  I didn’t want to be alone, but I didn’t want just anyone hanging around. Which was precisely the reason I should have insisted that Blake leave. Our eyes met, and I forgot why letting him stay was such a bad idea. And when my lips parted, I didn’t tell Blake to go. I didn’t tell him anything.

  It was Lark’s voice that said: “Stay.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  One physical body shared between two consciousnesses wasn’t a new experience, not for me at least. After the initial shock of learning about Lila, discovering that we inhabited the same skin, had worn off, I’d decided to look at my mental health issues not as a disorder but rather as an advantage. I’d spent most of the previous year at Montauk practicing switching between Lila and myself and, eventually, added Raven into the mix.

  Summoning any of the other alters was easy, though Lila was always the quickest and easiest transition. The tricky part was remaining aware as the passenger when Lila or Raven took control. It was a delicate balancing act, like walking a tightrope, often made harder depending on who I encountered. But tonight, I wasn’t trying to fool anyone. I wanted Blake to know that I was there with Raven. I needed him to look into her brown eyes and see me.

  “Hey,” Blake called the moment I exited the bathroom after brushing my teeth. Seeing him perched on the edge of my bed caught me off guard, and I made a strangled yelping noise like a wounded cat. “Sorry. Sorry. I figured you….” Blake trailed off as I moved slowly toward him, his gaze traveling over the silk periwinkle sleep shorts and tank, to the matching robe trimmed in vegan fur.

  Unlike most of the garments inside the walk-in, this pajama/loungewear set wasn’t new. I’d purchased it before my and Blake’s first sleepover, and it had quickly become a go-to item in my tote for all subsequent overnights. I thought seeing me in familiar outfit would tip him off. But Blake didn’t extend his hand to me, or stand and hold open his arms. Instead, he continued to watch me carefully, thoughtfully.

  “Blake?” I stepped closer and reached for him. He stared at my fingers as though they were tentacles.

  “Lark?” He said my name like a question.

  I smiled down at him tentatively. “It’s me.” Touch light as a feather, I ran the tips of my fingers across his cheek. Blake closed his eyes and leaned into my caress. “I’m so sorry, about all of this. I should have—”

  “No apologizing.” Eyes still closed, he covered my hand with his and kissed my palm. His l
ips were so soft, so warm. “I’ve missed you,” Blake murmured as he hands found my waist and he pulled me onto his lap.

  My lips found Blake’s, but he pulled back before the kiss became more than a friendly hello. “What’s wrong? Wait—stupid question. Everything is wrong.” I started to stand. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just—”

  Catching my wrist as I started to walk away, he drew me back to him gently. “Lark, look at me.” His voice was kind but insistent. Tears pricked my eyes and I tried to avert my gaze, but Blake wasn’t having it. “Look at me,” he repeated.

  Through a watery haze, I met Blake’s gaze.

  “Please stop apologizing. You have nothing to be sorry for.” He spoke clearly and firmly. “You’ve been through so much. I only hate that you thought you had to do it alone. I am here for you. I will always be here for you.”

  The waterworks that followed were neither cute nor quiet. I sank onto his lap as though suddenly boneless. Cradling me to his chest, Blake stroked my hair with one hand and rubbed my back with the other as I sobbed like a child. It had been a long time since I’d cried that hard, even longer since I cried in front of another person. But Blake wasn’t just any person, he was my person—my love, my life, my heart.

  “When I imagined this scene in my head,” I hiccupped, my voice trembling, “there was definitely a lot less snot involved.”

  Laughter rumbled inside Blake’s chest. “Snot. Sexy, Lark,” he teased.

  My tears began to taper. I shifted and wiped my cheeks, meeting Blake’s gaze. He tucked strands of dark brown hair behind my ears, and then traced my features as though committing the feel to memory. My breath came about in rasps as I tried to smile. “I know you probably have a lot of questions,” I began.