by Sarah Noffke
I draw in a long deep breath and stare at the night’s sky. I hold the breath and wait, but I’m not sure what for, it just doesn’t seem right to breathe freely right now. The drums pound once and then both voices join in unison and harmonize with such soul. Water shoots to new heights. How could it be possible that in the most commercial of places I’m having a truly spiritual moment? The tears slip down my cheeks, unleashed by a tender ache I didn’t even know lived within me.
Bob half encircles me with his arm, squeezing me into him. It makes me feel slightly less dramatic to notice his eyes wet with moisture.
“Shall we walk?” Steve asks.
I nod, knowing my voice will crack if I say something aloud.
Luckily for me Steve starts talking right away. “The reason we love Vegas is pure and simple. It’s where we met.” Steve laughs, exchanging a fond look with Bob. “It was a total accident.”
“That’s usually how the best things in life happen,” Bob chimes in as he strides beside me.
“I was walking down a busy part of the strip, just like here,” Steve says. People mill about everywhere and although we move to avoid them, many times they pass through us like ghosts. “The experience was very much like this. I wasn’t paying much attention to the people who I passed through, too busy taking in the sights. Bob was doing the same.” The memory seems to surface in Steve’s vision. “We crashed into each other, sending both of us to the ground.” Steve laughs again, shaking his head. “Can you believe it? Out of all the places we could have been walking. It just means we were on paths that were destined to collide.”
“It took a minute for it to register what had actually occurred,” Bob says, reaching out and offering his hand to Steve. He wrings it sweetly. “I’d dream traveled my entire life and had never accidentally run into another Dream Traveler. There’s just not many of us and this Earth is so vast.”
My head easily moves back and forth between the two men on either side of me as they take turns telling the story. “After we’d recovered from our fall, we chatted, sharing our backgrounds, dream travels, interests.” Steve winks at Bob. “I liked him immediately.”
“That’s the best story of how two people met that I’ve ever heard.” I beam.
“We like it.” Steve slows and turns, facing the turquoise water at the Venetian Resort. A gondola sails through the waters. A couple sits in it cuddling as a man in a black and white striped shirt pushes the boat. I lean on the railing, looking down into the water as it churns from the movements of the sleek boats.
Even though it’s late, crowds of people shuffle down the sidewalk behind us and over the bridge in front of us. Stopping, laughing, taking selfies. The traffic on the streets buzzes loudly. I find myself strangely enjoying the energy that this city exudes.
“So, tell us, what’s new with you?” Bob watches the couple in the boat until they move off from our sight.
Pulling in a long breath of air, I sigh. “Where do I begin?” I eye the large column to the right of us and decide to take a seat at its base. Bob and Steve squat down next to me on either side.
“Uh-oh.” Steve gives Bob a worried look. “This must be big if we’ve got to sit for it.”
“It is,” I confirm. I watch the gondola passengers take their rides through the Grand Canal. They all appear so happy and carefree. Suddenly I have the urge to jump into one of those boats and let all my worries float away. Shaking off the thought I fill Bob and Steve in on the newest bit of lies. After my long and sordid explanation, they both do a poor job of hiding their grave expressions.
“It’s so hard to believe Trey would keep all this from you.” Steve has a look of seriousness that grips his eyes, making the wrinkles around them suddenly pronounced.
“It’s getting less difficult to believe this kind of stuff though,” Bob says. “I mean, I respect him as the Head of the Institute, but it’s hard to look at him the same way anymore.”
“However, it isn’t fair for us to judge.” Steve gives Bob a chastising expression.
“You’re right,” Bob says with an edge of reluctance.
“Well, although I reserve the right to change my mind, I’m doing a fair bit of judging,” I say.
“I think you’re allowed,” Steve says, patting my arm. “I just don’t think Bob and I should. It’s not productive.”
“That situation with Chase is incredibly unnerving though.” Bob shivers, like he’s suddenly cold.
Bolting upright, I twist around, feeling his presence like a hot match on my skin. A figure lurking on the other side of the column shifts but not before I spy a few trademark features. And if I had any doubts, he, like us, doesn’t cast a shadow.
“He isn’t a bad man,” I say, cringing inside with sudden rampant fear.
“Roya, of course he––”
I cut Steve off. “No, what you know about him is a picture painted by the Lucidites.” With a great intensity I point with my eyes, my expression trying to reveal everything I can’t say out loud. Chase is here. Over there, my eyes seek to say. “I think of all people you’d want me to be with someone who would protect me the way I know he will.” My voice comes out shaky. Scanning the area, I look for weapons. Ways to protect Bob and Steve if I need to. Inside me I feel the trace of a connection to Chase. He’s angry, and it’s such an unbelievably gorgeous anger—like flames dancing in a bonfire.
Astonishment and understanding dawn on both men’s faces almost simultaneously. Bob cautiously turns his head to peer behind him, but I know Chase is well hidden on the far side of the pillar. Steve rebounds upright like a plank, almost stumbling to his feet. “You’re right,” he says, taking my arm a bit tighter than usual. “If he makes you happy, that’s all that matters.”
“He does.” I force a smile into my voice. “I truly love him.”
Bob joins me on my other side. “How about we walk?” His voice a high-pitched rush.
I hold my breath, nod.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Worrying down my thumbnail I take the once familiar trek. The hallway outside Aiden’s lab is quiet, devoid of its usual overflow of music. Strategically, I chose to wear the pink visor Bob and Steve just sent, along with new running gear. Although I told them I could buy my own clothes with the hordes of money I’m making news reporting, they scoffed at the idea. Since I’m planning on running after this meeting, it doesn’t look strange if I hide every rogue emotion behind the protection the visor provides. Head down, thumbnail firmly pressed between my teeth, I round the corner into Aiden’s lab and run straight into him. A half a dozen books fly out of his arms and land haphazardly on the ground. The corner of one pokes me in the chest during the collision, but the embarrassment smarts way worse.
“I’m so sorry,” Aiden says, catching only one book. “You all right?”
I rub my forearm, which also took a good portion of the impact. “Yeah. You?”
He kneels over in a rush, scrambling to pick up the books splayed out on the floor. “I was just headed down the hallway to drop these off for Ren.”
“Oh, well, you sent me a note saying the patch is ready. I can wait here until you return.”
Handing me a book, Aiden smiles, his eyes briefly lighting up behind his black-rimmed glasses. Then, almost like remembering a grim detail the smile fades, whisked away and replaced by a more guarded one. “Or you can help me with the delivery?”
“Ha-hah,” I pretend to laugh. “Nice try, but I’ve managed to avoid Ren for a while now and I feel better for it.”
“Come on now. Obviously I can’t manage all these books on my own.” Aiden lays another heavy book on the one he’s handed me and walks off at once.
I roll my eyes, hurrying to catch up with him.
“Have you considered getting a rolling cart?” I ask, pinning the books to my chest. “Since you obviously don’t like to make multiple trips and always carry more than you can handle?”
“I’ll put it on my Christmas list.” He points with
his head, indicating a door. “Mind knocking?”
Just above the button is a label: Scape’s Escapes. “Is this?”
Aiden nods. “Yep, it’s where the Strategy department meets.”
“Ren’s secret lair,” I say in a ghostly whisper. “No doubt riddled with bones and teeth.”
“And here I thought you’d never been in there,” Aiden says, matching my tone.
I rap against the door. Like he’d been waiting for us, it slides back almost immediately. Ren stands glaring at us in his usual dark green suit. “Oh, you lot are obviously lost. The playground is on the third level.”
Aiden steps forward, handing the books to Ren. “Here are the books you requested, sir,” Aiden bows slightly. He turns and relieves me of my books, placing them on top of the stack. “If there’s anything else I can do to help you, please just let me know.”
“If there’s anything else I can do to help,” Ren mocks in a high-pitched voice, nose crinkled. “How about you sod off, that’d help.” He elbows the button, sending the door shut at once.
“I think what he meant to say is ‘thank you,’” I say, smothering a laugh. “Does anyone have any idea why that guy is so crabby?” I ask as we retrace our way back to Aiden’s lab.
“No, but honestly I find his rough nature a bit endearing.”
“Oh, you would,” I say, trying to sound wry, but it’s bordering on amusement.
“So, it’s kind of nice to know I’m not the only person you’re avoiding lately,” Aiden says, directing me over to a certain workstation. I pretend to be interested in the current arrangement of his lab, which is always changing.
“I’m not avoiding you. Just been busy.” I chew on the inside of my cheek. “Besides I don’t have much reason to stop by.”
“Well, you’re here now.” Aiden extends his hand and eyes me nervously.
I almost reach out and take it, confused and elated by his gesture.
“May I have your bracelet?”
“Oh, yes, of course,” I say in an embarrassed rush.
“This will only take a few minutes. Can you hang out?”
“Sure.”
Aiden opens a microwave-like box that sits on a nearby counter. Placing my bracelet inside, he hits a dozen or so buttons before shutting the door and placing a reinforcement lock on it.
“Are you nuking my charm?” I ask, trying to peer around him.
“Kind of,” Aiden says, a laugh almost in his voice. Not facing me, he drums his hands on the countertop, watching a dial on the front of the machine.
“Where’s the music?” I ask, hopping up on a stool. The action strangely brings back a rush of memories—all connected to Aiden.
“Just felt like having some quiet time for a change.” He turns around staring straight at me, making my skin prickle with unease.
Yeah, me too.
“So, I hear you’re royalty,” Aiden says, daring to take the seat next to me.
I pick at my running shorts like there’s a problem with the fabric. There’s not. They’re brand new. “Wow,” I say in a dull voice. “Gossip travels fast around here.”
“Yeah, you’re the center of a lot of talk these days.”
“Lovely…” From under my visor I spy on Aiden, who looks to be as interested in the floor as I am in my running shorts. The sharp angles of his face appear to make him even more smartly handsome than the last time I studied him. Clenching my eyes shut I rebuke myself for the sudden thought. “So who told you Chase wants me to breed him an army of pureblooded Dream Travelers?”
“Trent,” Aiden chirps. “He loves a good scandal.”
I should have guessed Joseph would have told him. Neither one of them can keep their mouths shut about much. “I’ll be grateful when everyone gets their own lives. Then maybe they’ll quit being so fascinated by mine.”
“You might have to wait a while for that,” Aiden says, eyes still pinned downward. “Even I have to admit that when you get over the morbid parts of this whole Chase thing, it’s highly interesting.”
“So you really learned about this from Trent? You didn’t already know?” I ask, risking a direct glance at him.
He shakes his head. “I told you I didn’t, remember?”
“Right,” I say, the agonizing memory of that meeting with Trey, Ren, and Aiden washing over me. “But Ren knew. I wonder how though. When Trey dropped the bomb that he was Joseph’s and my father he said Ren was the only person who knew. It doesn’t appear that they’re really close so why would Ren know all these family secrets?”
“Probably because he’s been here for a really long time. Well, he’s been here for as long as I can remember anyway.”
Aiden kicks his long legs back and forth, catching the rails of the stool every now and then.
“Isn’t it weird to think that if Trey hadn’t sent me off, I would have grown up here with you?” I ask, the question like a paradox in my head.
Aiden doesn’t look at me. I actually get the impression that he’s distracted by thoughts in his own head. “So, you and George, huh?” he finally says, his voice flat.
How can a single question feel like a hot poker on my skin? “Yeah,” I finally say, pushing the ache out of my throat. “He was willing to take a risk on me.”
“Do you enjoy dropping little insinuations like that into conversations?” Aiden says, swiveling his gaze up, fastening it on me. Emotions, like telepathic links, spring back and forth between us.
I glare into his dark blue eyes, smoldering with regret.
“George doesn’t have anything to risk,” Aiden says.
“Sure he does. Trey can’t like that we’re together. He goes to great lengths to take away things that make me happy,” I say, not meaning any of it, but knowing it will feel like shards of glass on his skin.
“So are you happy?”
“Are you asking as a friend?”
“As your friend, all I want is for you to be happy. I wish it could be with me.” He throws up his hands as if in surrender. “I know I’m not supposed to say things like that anymore, but the way I figure it is things are coming down to a deadly wire and that’s how I feel. Sue me.”
“Oh, are we putting it all out there after all these weeks? I didn’t get the memo,” I say. “In that case––”
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The microwave-looking-thingy cuts me off before I have a chance to say something I’ll no doubt regret. Without a second glance, Aiden slides off his stool, his shoulders tensed as he opens up the contraption. He reaches into the darkened box with a pair of tongs and removes my bracelet, which is glowing with dangerous heat. Steadily he places it on a mat on the counter. Pauses. With his back still to me he says, “It will take a little while to cool down. I’m sorry but you’re going to have to wait here.”
I’m not sorry. Sickeningly, I’m enjoying this. After weeks of tension building every time I think about Aiden and his cowardly behavior, it’s nice to have a fight. Let it blow up a little.
Exhaling loudly, he turns, leaning against the counter, pinning his hands on either side of him. “Here’s a caution,” Aiden says, and I tense automatically. “If this works, which I suspect it will, I advise you to not let Chase know it. Firstly, it will piss him off and I think that should be avoided. Secondly, we have the edge on him right now. If he knows you’ve found a way to stop him he’ll find another strategy and something tells me the next one will be more serious. If you do find yourself face-to-face with him then give him the reaction you think he wants long enough to keep him appeased. Trey’s working on a plan to rid you of Chase, but his first focus is on Day Z.”
“So you’re telling me to pretend to be in love with Chase if he comes around?” I say, completely blindsided by the instructions.
“Yes, pretend just like you do with George.”
I actually smile. He’s being cruel and clever. A new side of Aiden that’s strangely fun. “How do you know I’m pretending?” I say, threading my arms together.
“It’s more of a hope.”
“Seems like a really unworthy drain on your attention.”
His eyes flick up to the ceiling, a familiar frustration returning to his face. Aiden and I are spectacularly good at arguing. I’m pretty certain there’s no merit in that. “I would test the patch to see if it works by using the emotional modifier I built on you, but…” he says, tottering his head side to side, like he’s still considering the idea, “I suspect you wouldn’t want that.”
“How extremely astute of you. You suspect correctly. I’ve had enough emotional programming, thank you very much.”
Beside him my bracelet still glows hot on the counter. I think he gave me false expectations when he said this would only take a few minutes. “If,” I begin, drawing out the word, “you did test my patch with your emotional modifier, what sort of programming would you do to me? For testing purposes, of course.”
“Hmmm...” he says, thinking the question over with sincere deliberation. “Maybe I’d make you obsessed with something ridiculous like cheese puffs or ancient Celtic folklore.”
“Why not both?”
He strokes his chin. “I like the way you think.”
“Well, I think you could do better. Find a more entertaining way to manipulate my emotions.”
“Is that right?” Aiden gives me a heated glance. “Maybe I’ll use it to make you stop being mad at me.”
“Oh, I didn’t know it could work miracles,” I say, unable to suppress a sliver of a smile.
“Well, you being in love with Chase is a marvel.”
“No, it’s downright ludicrous.”
“You know, the line between love and hate is excruciatingly thin,” he says.
“Whoever said I hated you?”
“I inferred that much.”
“Well, stop with the inferences. The truth is––”
“You love me and I broke your heart,” Aiden says, his voice full of heat.
Talk about having words which were never going to come out of my mouth ripped from my chest. I gape at him. “What?” I revolt, like he’s just said the stupidest thing in the world.