Revived

by Sarah Noffke

  “May I offer some advice?” George slides his hands into his pockets, chin down.

  “Go for it.”

  “Motivation is key. You want to keep Chase out, right?”

  “Of course,” I say.

  “Well, I don’t get the impression you’re motivated to keep me out.” George angles his eyes up a bit and catches mine.

  He bites his lip and I’m instantly enamored by this moment. I like the look in his eyes, the draw I feel to him, the way his teeth look as they bite into the soft, pink flesh of his lips. His hands push into his jean pockets, like he’s restraining himself. I even like the emotions deep inside me that are afraid to fully embrace the moment.

  Pulling his hands out of his pockets and straightening, George says, “Why don’t you pretend I’m Chase. Maybe you’ll be motivated to keep me out.”

  His advice does make sense. I’d been playing with this new attraction to him since we started practicing today and haven’t really committed to the idea of keeping him out of my heart. Actually a part of me believed that if he felt what I felt the next steps would be easier because he’d initiate something. That’s what I like most about George anyway; he reads me and gives me what I want when I want it.

  “All right,” I nod. “You’re the despicable Chase.”

  In my head I picture Chase: his captivating blue eyes, slick black hair, features so perfectly balanced I want to lose myself in them––but I don’t. I make myself remember who he is. I separate the facts in my mind from the deceptions Chase has done to my heart. The meditation this morning makes this easier.

  With a steadying breath I beckon George with my hand to commence. Although I’m looking in his direction, this time I make sure not to make eye contact. Instead I stare just over his shoulder, my thoughts consumed with all the awful things Chase has done. In many ways, he’s worse than Zhuang. Although his abilities are comparable, his motives are unknown. At least with Zhuang we know he wants power. Chase’s mystery makes him scarier.

  Knowing my thoughts are firmly centered on Chase, I scan my shield to ensure it’s reinforced in all areas. Not only do I feel zero attraction to Chase right now, but I want him destroyed. I’m empowered by this hate. Enlivened with a determination. The anger and heat from my thoughts tear through my body like a torrent, carrying momentum. The self-righteous urge to take the power back from this deceitful man churns in me as my shield pulses with intensity.

  “I can’t get through.” George breaks into my focus and for a second I’m surprised that he’s standing in front of me. Forgot he was here.

  In a wave, my present reality surfs over me. Like a beam dispersing, I let my shield release and with it the space between George and me grows softer. A smile yanks at the corners of my lips as I let the thoughts of Chase retreat.

  “I did it!” I say, feeling triumphant.

  “You did. Nice improvement,” George says.

  “Thanks.”

  “So that advice helped?”

  “For sure.” I finger a lock of hair, twirling it with sudden nervousness.

  “I was right, wasn’t I? You didn’t want to keep me out?” George takes a step toward me.

  I glide the hair over my fingers repeatedly, enjoying the softness. “Well, I don’t want to be an open book for you to leaf through, if that’s what you’re thinking. What did you get earlier?” I ask, knowing what I’d given him access to.

  “Enough.” Satisfaction mingled with heedless desire surfaces on his face.

  I’m enjoying tiptoeing around the obvious truth. “Enough? What does that mean?”

  I’m not sure where the space has gone but now George is right up against me. He leans down, brushing my hair away from my face, off my neck. “Enough to bargain with you.”

  “Bargain?”

  He nods, the smile on his face not faltering. “I know what you want, and I’m more than willing to give it to you. I will commit my whole heart to you. God knows it already belongs to you anyway. I will give you all of me. Do anything you ask. Protect you how I can. And doing all that for you will provide me with more satisfaction than anything in this world. In that way I’m greedy to give you my heart.”

  My fingers, which always long for the softness of hair, thread into his. “That sounds like a bargain for me actually.”

  “Here’s where the negotiations come in,” he says, looking suddenly serious. “I also selfishly ask that you commit to us one hundred percent. Because if there’s an obstacle blocking your heart, we’re doomed to even try to be together.”

  “But Chase? I can’t help what he’s doing to me.”

  “I don’t mean Chase. You know who I’m referring to.”

  Mirroring him, I bite my lip, a desired pain erupting from the action. Kisses seal deals, right? Isn’t that what I told Aiden? The guy I can never have. The coward? The obstacle George is alluding to now.

  Pressing my hands only slightly against his neck, I urge George down, a smile upon my lips. “How can I not want this?” It sounds like a statement out loud and like a question in my head.

  “How can you not,” he agrees.

  “You are the sweetest, George. My sweet George,” I say and can’t believe the words have come from my mouth.

  Drawing in a soft breath, I kiss him. In between each time our lips meet I feel his satisfaction. It’s as if I’m the one who has the power to read emotions as I sense the currents of gratification ripple through him. I’m swept away as his emotions and lips and breath and my own fulfillment fuse into elegant perfection.

  The smile on his face presses against my mouth before he eases back so that I can see it. His fingers lace into mine and twirl my hand up until it rests against his chest––the exact same one he caught me admiring earlier. It’s solid, begging for me to lean on it.

  George scans my eyes and kisses me tenderly again.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Joseph waits for me by our now-permanent news reporting stations. He takes one look at me and rolls his eyes. “Oh man, Stark! Y’all made it official?” He sighs with frustrated disapproval.

  I scowl at him, pinning my hands to my hips. “How do I keep you out of my head?”

  “Only thing that worked for me was being under Zhuang’s influence but I wouldn’t suggest that technique,” he says, scrunching up his nose.

  “Well, why is it that we’re so connected now? More than in the beginning?”

  “I think it’s because we want to be.”

  “I would also like some privacy,” I say.

  “More than you want the connection between us?” Persuasion in his voice.

  Actually no. This link between us nourishes me. Provides me with a unique strength. The more it builds, the more powerful I feel. My news reports are of greater significance and delivered a dozen at a time. The reflexes that were spiked since the moment we met are even faster now. And every other skill of mine has been honed.

  “No, the connection is more important than privacy,” I finally say. “You’re the only person I don’t need secrecy from anyway. I trust you implicitly.”

  “I agree. You’re more than my sister,” he says, and his words carry weight and meaning and also a great deal of power. We’re a source to each other.

  I return his words with a smile, one he mirrors before his face lines with disappointment.

  “All right now. So back to the first topic. George? Really?”

  “What’s the deal? Why don’t you like him?”

  “Psssh,” he scoffs. “Him. Livingston. Chase. I despise them all ’cause I fear they’ll break your heart and then I’m gonna rip theirs out through their throats.”

  “Damn, you’re twisted,” I say, but smile still.

  “Yeah, but in good ways.” Joseph takes a seat in his recliner, still facing me. “Truth is, I know I can’t protect you forever,” he says with defeat. “I’ve been tryin’ to be more accepting of the idea of you with someone, but it’s tough. I keep tellin’ myself that I should be happy
if you find love. I mean, I see the way Anders looks at you. And you truly do deserve to be with someone who lights up when you come around.”

  “He lights up?”

  “Like a freakin’ lightning bug. Actually, most of the time, the guy has the personality of a cardboard box. But when you’re around, he opens up and becomes almost tolerable. You’re definitely good for him, but I’m not sure I agree with the reverse. That’s probably the thing; I don’t foresee a person in the world good enough for you. As T said before, ‘you’re freakin’ Roya Stark.’”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “No it’s not, and who wants to live on a pedestal all alone. I sure as hell don’t want that for you. But you did climb up there on your own,” he says, giving me a clever grin.

  “I did no such thing.” I hop up onto my own chair, swinging my legs back and forth. “Speaking of Trent…”

  Joseph raises an eyebrow at me, giving me a cautious glare. “How long have you known?”

  “Since Iceland.”

  “Right...Well…”

  “How long have you known?” I ask.

  “All my life. Or as long as I can remember anyway. There wasn’t another option for me.”

  “And Samara and all the other girls?”

  “Just an attempt to pretend. To fake it, hoping maybe I’d change.”

  “Because?”

  He pushes out a breath. “Because I was raised in a place that didn’t tolerate such things and even if that’s not where I am now, it’s still engrained in me. And now there’s Trey and his reputation and all those surroundin’ implications.”

  “Do you really think he’d care? And who gives a damn if he does? For the life of me I can’t figure out why most of the people in this place are afraid to live their life the way they want because of the opinion of some silver-haired hippie.”

  “He’s more than that. You may not want to admit it but our father influences the lives of thousands of Dream Travelers and millions of Middlings. His power is far reaching. He isn’t just our father and he isn’t just the leader of the Lucidites. He’s one of the most powerful Dream Travelers on Earth.” Joseph pauses, suddenly exasperated. “What if it does disappoint him?” he hisses, tossing himself back slightly. “I’ve already revived our greatest nemesis. I just don’t need anythin’ else to color me in his eyes right now.”

  “But Joseph, this isn’t something you’ve done. This is about who you are.” I move to sit beside him. Grab his hand and squeeze. “No matter how powerful a person is, if they don’t love you for who you are, it makes them the stupidest person on Earth.”

  His mossy green eyes quiet a bit. “Although you’re right, this just isn’t somethin’ I want to deal with right now. I’ve got enough to worry about.”

  “And Trent? How does he feel about it?”

  “Similar to how you feel about Aiden’s cowardly behavior.”

  “But he still loves you, doesn’t he?”

  “You know better than anyone that even if someone disappoints you it doesn’t diminish the way you feel about them.”

  “And how about how you feel?”

  “I feel like an unlovable wreck.”

  “You are neither of those things.”

  He leans his head on my shoulder, an endearing gesture he been doing more and more lately. “And you deserve to be happy. I’m going to try and be that for you.”

  “Thanks,” I say, pressing my head into his. “You deserve to be happy too.”

  “Well, hopefully there’s time for that later.”

  “Oh, Joseph…” I say with a sigh.

  He picks up his head and waves me off. “Why don’t we table this discussion for another time? I’m sure there are a few hundred people who need to be saved, but that will only happen if we settle our happy asses down and news report.”

  “Well, when you put it that way…” I say, stretching to a standing position and crawling into my own chair.

  “See you in a few,” he says with a wink.

  ♦

  “You paged us,” I say to Trey when he answers the door to room 402—his new makeshift office.

  “I did,” he says, welcoming Joseph and me into the small room.

  I slide the note he sent to the Panther room into my back pocket.

  “Thank you for coming so promptly,” Trey says, taking a seat behind a metal desk.

  The plain white walls and empty bookcases are the wrong backdrop. I’m accustomed to seeing him in his rich and intriguing office with the oversized furniture and random artifacts. “Please take a seat,” he says, gesturing to two dark leather armchairs. In the bare-bones office they stick out like china on a picnic table. “How are you both doing?” Trey looks at me, then Joseph.

  Is he kidding me? Is this social hour?

  I stare at him blankly. I’m entirely willing to continue this action until he becomes too uncomfortable to sit here any longer.

  “Pretty good,” Joseph finally chimes. “I like news reporting. Think I’ve got a long-term future with it.”

  Reflexively I roll my eyes. What the hell is Joseph doing?

  “That’s good news,” Trey says, encouraging. “I’m not surprised though. Shuman is especially happy that you two have agreed to report together. The information you’re reporting is a huge benefit to the Institute as well as the world at large.”

  He crosses his hands on the sleek metal surface of the desk and looks at me. “How about you, Roya?”

  I realize my shoulders are pinned by my ears. Taking a slight breath I release them. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  Disappointment edges Trey’s eyes. He regards me for a few seconds. Lines form around his mouth as he presses his lips together, assessing me. “Your news reports have drastically improved since you began. And, of course, the report regarding Zhuang is probably the most important one ever forecast.” His eyes remain on me as a long second passes.

  Of course. This isn’t a personal meeting. This is Trey. This is business. “Thank you,” I say in a dull monotone voice.

  “That’s actually why I’ve asked you both here,” Trey says, worrying down the fabric on the sleeve of his shirt. “When Zhuang descends into the Institute, you must flee right away. If my inclination is correct you two will be second and third on his list. Roya, you’ll remember from your report who Zhuang comes after first.”

  I remain still, providing no response.

  “You two will be the next on Zhuang’s list because you’re a threat,” Trey says, like he’s advising employees rather than his offspring. “Zhuang is seeking power, and both of you are rich sources of that. He’s already communicated his interests in consuming your consciousness, Roya. And Joseph, I’m sure he holds similar ill will toward you. One of you almost killed him and the other restored him. You’re both a valuable asset and a threat to him in different ways, and that’s all he needs to target you.”

  It’s weird to hear things boiled down in this way. It’s even weirder to be in this office, staring at this man who’s supposedly our father. None of it feels real, but when I push myself back to the days of toiling around the woods with my cats that time doesn’t completely feel real either. Is none of my life real? Are all my perceptions skewed and never to be made clear?

  “When Zhuang enters the Institute,” Trey says, beckoning me away from my thoughts, “you both have to dream travel to a GAD-C. You can’t hesitate or try and stop what’s coming.”

  “Yeah, of course,” Joseph says, like this is a no-brainer.

  Trey nods his approval at Joseph and turns to evaluate me. Again I remain silent.

  “Roya, I suspect you’re going to try to stop Zhuang,” Trey says, sweeping his hands though his silver hair. “It isn’t your job this time to fight.”

  “Why would you suspect that?” I say, narrowing my eyes at him.

  Trey shakes his head with obvious frustration. He desires compliance and instead I’m asking questions. “Because I can sense things and they’re always correct.”


  “Hmmm…” I say, spiking my tone with skepticism.

  “One of my gifts is knowingness,” Trey says. “Your gift is ruled by Anahata. Mine is governed by the sixth chakra, Ajna. Informally you know this as intuition.”

  “Everyone has intuition, how can that be a gift?”

  “The reliability and frequency of my intuitive notions is what makes it a gift, much the same way as your clairvoyance.”

  “So yours is never wrong?” I say, doubt oozing in my tone.

  “Exactly.”

  “How do you know what’s intuition and what’s just some hunch or idea or worry?” I ask, not understanding how something so flimsy as intuition can be classified as a gift.

  “How do you know the visions you see are of the future?” he counters.

  “Because it comes through me, instead of from me,” I say automatically.

  He nods, a knowing in his eyes.

  “What are your other gifts?”

  “I control water. Produce it in a dreamscape and govern bodies of water in the physical realm.”

  “What?” I say, disbelief streaking the word.

  Trey holds up his hand. “Currently I can’t grace this conversation with the time and attention it deserves. I will, though, in the future.”

  Why does he always have to do that? Dangle something of great importance and relevance in front of me and then postpone the conversation. How many times has he promised we’ll discuss something more in depth later and that moment never comes?

  “My main concern is your safety when Zhuang enters the Institute,” Trey says, looking at me, then Joseph. “You both must leave the Institute as soon as you hear the sirens. Is that clear?”

  Joseph nods.

  I have zero intention of leaving as Trey is dictating. But arguing with him will get me nowhere. Really his determination to control every aspect of my life just incites my bitterness. And more than anything I want Trey to feel the undeniable heartbreak he’s done to us.

  “So you’re sending us away again?” I say, threading my arms together and leaning back in the chair. “It’s like a game, isn’t it?”

  “Do you honestly believe I wanted to send you away? Separate you?” Trey says, a tiredness in his words.