Through the Static

by Jeanette Grey

  “I wish I could do more,” he said, voice gruff. With his eyes, he apologized for her lingering pain, and with his lips, he kissed tender skin. He covered her up, then held out a hand and helped her stand. Once she was on her feet, he reached down and picked up her weapon, looking between it and her for a second before he seemed to come to a decision in his mind.

  His hand was steady as he held the pistol out to her.

  She took it, silently acknowledging that he was giving her much more than just the gun. She tucked it into the waistband of her pants and then slid her hand back into his.

  As they stood together in the center of the clearing, he glanced up, showing her his calculations as he measured the sun’s angle in the sky and compared it with his chronometer. He looked down at her. “We need to get moving. And we’ll need a new transport.”

  She swallowed hard. “I know.”

  It brought them back to the same question of where to go and what came next. There were her injuries, of course, but more pressing were his, invisible as they were. She still needed to get him someplace where she could open his head up and patch the places in his mind where she’d torn him loose. She needed to complete the sever.

  She needed to set him free.

  Because after everything, there was no way she was letting him go back to his Three now. Not after learning the touch of his hands on her body and the depths of his humanity. Not after learning him.

  No, what she needed to do hadn’t changed. But what she was willing to do to accomplish it had. Squeezing his hand, she took one step forward, striking off in a direction she’d once hoped she’d never have to go.

  He held her back, grasping her palm. “Where are we going?”

  Turning to face him, she lifted her chin, gazing deep into his eyes as she strengthened her resolve. She trusted him. It would probably come back to bite her, but by God, she did.

  Her voice was level as she told him, “We’re going to my safe house.”

  Jinx could hardly believe how easy it was to be with Aurelia now. Even without the complete intimacy of being buried in her, body and mind, there was a warm glow to their connection, a level of understanding he’d never felt with Curse and Charm, no matter how complete the flow of information had been. He wasn’t exposed with her. Instead, he was known.

  They’d been walking for a couple of hours in companionable silence, following a winding path through woods and fields. While he was worried about the pace they were setting, given her condition, he didn’t know what to do except drive on. He made her eat and made her rest, but mostly they just went. The trees were thinning now, the hum of electrical life picking up—all signs they were getting closer to the edge of the city, which was a relief. She hadn’t revealed to him yet the exact location of her safe house, but he had a sense it was close.

  He was still floored she was willing to take him there. She’d tried to hide her hesitance about it back in the car, but he’d picked up on it. This was a big risk for her, considering who he was. She trusted him now. And he trusted her. He had to. And he wanted to.

  As they came to the asphalt scar of a road, she slowed, tugging on his arm to bring them to a halt. With her other hand, she reached up to pull her hair off her neck. He helped her, gathering the matted strands.

  He longed to bathe her. To wash the woods and blood from her skin and to tease the tangles from her locks. They’d be so beautiful, silken and shining and clean.

  Her cheeks rose with her shy smile. “Later.”

  The promise awoke his arousal, as well as something else. Something deeper, a tender place inside him that longed to simply care for her. Something new.

  Her quiet voice interrupted the thoughts he didn’t understand, bringing him back to the here and now. “Help me?”

  She showed him in her mind what she needed him to do. Echoing what he saw there, he let go of her hair and her hand and ran a fingertip along the length of chain around her neck. He unclasped it, holding the loose ends as he eased it from her skin. He’d seen the locket before, of course—had ignored the way it hung between her naked breasts as he’d tried to keep himself under control while stitching her up, and appreciated the same as she’d lain beneath him in the clearing. It was nondescript, unremarkable. But clearly important.

  She held out her hand and he lowered it to pool there in the cup of her palm.

  “It’s an EMP weapon.”

  He let go of it as if it had been on fire.

  He’d heard of those before, had heard of the Three that had been felled by just one of them. The bloom of electricity that severed circuitry and nerves. It was the kind of weapon that could lay him dead on the forest floor.

  She laughed and closed her fingers over it. “Don’t worry. I already used up the main charge. It’s only got a tiny residual left, if anything at all. Hopefully just enough to erase our trail.” Pointing at the other side of the road, she smiled. “Go on.”

  In her mind, he saw himself at a safe distance, among the sparser trees and detritus past the asphalt line. His hand was already twitching from a second of not touching her. He brushed her elbow with his knuckles. “I don’t want to leave you alone.”

  “Just for a minute.”

  He glanced at her head and frowned. “But your circuitry—”

  “I’ll be fine.” She tapped her temple. “Dampeners.”

  He whistled. Those kinds of modifications weren’t cheap. He’d known there was more to her than was apparent on the surface, but she was constantly surprising him with her strength, her resourcefulness. He leaned in and kissed her lips. “All right.”

  “If I—” She stopped midsentence, looking up at him with doleful eyes and guarded thoughts. “You may not be able to hear me. Just for a second. But I’ll still be here. I promise.”

  The very idea of it was a lick of pain, a tightening in his ribs. The shadow of a thought behind her thoughts, the intimation of something she was hiding from him did nothing to set him at ease. All the same, he managed to keep his expression neutral. She knew what she was doing. He leaned in to kiss her brow. “I trust you.”

  He did. To keep him safe, both from the weapon and from the silence he knew could bring him to his knees.

  After one more soft caress of his fingertips along the side of her face, he forced himself to pull away. He scanned the perimeter beyond the tree line, then moved quickly across the road and well into the cover beyond.

  She stood still as stone there at the threshold, her lips alone moving. She held her closed fist with the locket in the air in front of her, and even through the distance, her mind and eyes connected with his.

  And then her digital signature disappeared.

  In a rush, Jinx’s mind went black, a searing numbness shooting down his spinal column. There was a roar of sound and then an oppressive silence, a blankness he had no capacity to contain, and then his body hitting ground, hands tangling with dirt. This was no electrical surge—no aftereffect of a weapon burning holes through his very neurons. It was worse.

  Her warning had done nothing to prepare him. Even experiencing this before—it had given him no tools to cope. Just like in those terrifying seconds when she had cut him loose from his Three, he was left floundering. Alone.

  Entirely, completely alone.

  Every single nerve fired into darkness, and his eyes were closed, teeth bearing down. The warmth of her mind was gone. She was gone.

  A frisson of fear ignited in the dark. She said it would be a second of silence. Panic clawed at him. It had been too long. Too long.

  He’d lost her.

  “Come back.” He screamed it with his thoughts and with his voice, screamed it to the heavens and to Earth as he drowned.

  She’d left him. What had he done?

  He’d trusted her. She’d said he might not hear her, but this was— This was—

  And
then there was her voice. Her perfect, perfect voice.

  “I’m here.”

  “I’m here.”

  “Hold on to me.”

  He was held in arms, unable to tell how much time had elapsed inside the hellscape of solitude and silence. With one gasping inhale, he surfaced, opened his eyes and found the most brilliant hazel ones staring back at him.

  “I’ve got you,” she whispered.

  All at once, his limbs came back under his control as sound crashed around him, buoying him up. In a rush, he wrapped his arms around her. He clung to her, burying his face against her hair. “Don’t let go.”

  “I’m here.”

  As he squeezed her even tighter, he reached out with his mind, needing the reassurance of her link just as much he did her physical presence. He breathed more deeply as she let him in without reservation, opening herself to him and his probing. Only when he was satisfied that she was here, that she was real and that her thoughts were still his, did he loosen his hold.

  And in that instant, he realized the depth of his vulnerability.

  He needed her. He needed his connection to her mind, clearly, just to survive. But more than that, he needed her. Had since the instant she’d opened herself to him. Since she’d let him inside her. And she knew it.

  He didn’t know what he was going to do about it.

  He was on his feet before he entirely realized what had happened. She rose to meet him, put a hand on his chest as his anxiety rose. “Jinx?”

  “What?”

  She reached up and placed a gentle hand on his cheek. The warmth and connection were almost overwhelming, especially with the lingering hollow inside him after those aching seconds without her. Especially in light of his realization of the severity of his need. “Are you all right?”

  “Fine.”

  “No.” She held on to him tightly. “Are you all right?”

  There was vulnerability in her thoughts and in her eyes, and her touch was so soft. The pressure inside him eased. Exhaling roughly, he nodded. “I am. Now.”

  “That was worse than I thought it would be.” Doubt shadowed the lines of her face. “I’m sorry.”

  Her lip trembled, and he couldn’t hold in the shakiness that had been threatening to tear him apart since the instant the silence toppled him. He took her back into his arms again, tucking her head beneath his chin, sighing with the relief of holding her.

  He closed his eyes tightly, hating to admit even more of his weakness. Still, he choked out, “Please don’t ever do that to me again.”

  She didn’t answer with words. Instead, there was just the fierce grasp of her hands at his spine and in his hair, the steady reassurance of her mind, flooding his with thoughts of safety and caretaking. Images of the two of them entwined.

  In so many ways she soothed him. In all ways except one, really. His stomach fell with a low sense of dread. He held her close, his grip strengthened by a sudden premonition of her slipping away.

  After what felt like an age, he loosened his hold and pulled back. She gazed up at him, her thoughts still full of nameless, unsatisfying comfort as her eyes flitted down toward his mouth. God, he wanted to be comforted. He didn’t resist as she moved forward.

  Their lips met softly, like an apology. Like an acceptance. But it was rough, too, with things that neither of them said.

  He only let himself kiss her once, though he would have liked to stay there, letting her touch reassure him until there was no more fear and nothing left to need. Instead, he pulled away after a scant few seconds. Taking her hand, he looked behind them.

  Sure enough, her EMP had cleared the digital landscape of any sign of their passage. Their pursuers would still be able to pick up their trace with some patience, but it should buy them time.

  There was an anxious itch at the back of his mind, borne of her silence and the shuddering memory of being parted from her, even if only for a second. He wanted to put miles between him and this place. Between him and this feeling.

  “Come on,” he said, pulling her forward again. “Let’s go.”

  She studied his eyes for a second before nodding. Keeping in contact with his skin, she led them on, toward her safe house.

  He just hoped it would be as safe as she’d said.

  Chapter Nine

  They were close now. As they walked, Aurelia charted out a slew of different routes through the fringes of the city, toward the little bungalow and the bunker underneath it. They’d be safe there. They had to be. Because if they weren’t she didn’t know where else they would go.

  Gradually, the already receding forest gave way to scattered lots and rundown houses. Abandoned warehouses. Consciously or not, they both picked up their pace. The sun was low in the sky now, and unsavory elements abounded. Even the blank spaces between buildings were not to be trusted. Eyes were easily bought here, and while law enforcement was minimal, one never knew where cameras might be hidden.

  With each step, her anxiety rose. She didn’t want to linger here, but it was too dangerous to make a beeline for their destination. She gripped Jinx’s hand more tightly as she silently showed him the path she planned to take. Tilting her head to the side, she glanced up at him for approval. He gave a barely perceptible nod that reminded her of soldiers in movies. It was sexy to see him in that light, but the military efficiency of it only increased the tension that was already gnawing at her, reinforcing her sense of the danger that surrounded them. He picked up on it immediately.

  “Calm down.” He spoke the words straight into her head, flexing his fingers in her grasp.

  She forced herself to relax her hold on him, but his words did nothing to soothe her nerves. Even though Isabel had prepared her for this sort of worst-case scenario, she’d never really expected to find herself in such desperate straits. The gratitude she’d already felt for Jinx’s steadiness under fire magnified.

  She took a deep breath and shifted so their hands were entwined, gripped equally one in the other. “Sorry. This isn’t exactly a normal day for me.”

  A low trace of what could have been humor colored the connection between their minds. “Not for me, either.”

  She chuffed. No, she didn’t imagine it was. While he was probably plenty accustomed to danger, defecting from an unbreakable bond and running off into the wilderness with a stranger was definitely something new.

  The space between their minds was as quiet as the deserted cityscape, humming with only the usual buzz of idle thoughts and musings. Then it crackled, and his voice came through, quiet in its hesitance.

  “I read a briefing file about you.”

  It was one of the last things she’d been expecting him to say. “You did?”

  He nodded, keeping his eyes on the concrete terrain ahead as he explained. “Before we were sent into your lab.” He mentioned it casually enough, but a nervous tickle in the link undercut his words. She stroked her thumb over his, pushing comfort into his mind, trying to tell him it was all right. Now, it was.

  He let out a relieved breath. “It said you were a scientist.”

  “I am.”

  He smirked in her periphery. “So what exactly is a scientist doing walking around with an EMP around her neck and a safe house on the edge of the ghetto?”

  She almost lost her footing, her head whipped around so fast. The humor was undeniable now in his thoughts.

  He, a member of a Three, was joking with her.

  Would she ever stop marveling at him? So much of her anxiety melted away and a smile bloomed on her face as she stared up at him, watching his smirk turn into a grin. His self-satisfaction at having set her at ease was palpable, but so was his lingering curiosity. He truly wanted to know.

  She returned her own gaze to the road, picking up the pace as she tried to figure out how best to answer his question.

  “Information is powe
r,” she said, shrugging. “And people are always covetous of power.”

  “You did research into…our kind? Threes?”

  Her smile faded to something wry and sad. “Before there was such a thing.” She glanced up at him. “Most of our early work was just one person talking to another through their neural networks. Connecting.” She squeezed his hand for emphasis. Sucking in a deep breath, she steeled herself. “But that work was stolen by someone…close to me.”

  Unbidden, the image of Peter standing in the doorway, silhouetted against the light, rose to her mind. With one look, he’d shattered the illusion of their closeness. There had been such disdain on his face that morning he’d left her. Like he didn’t know her.

  And that was when she’d realized she hadn’t really known him. Not at all.

  A growl rose at the back of Jinx’s throat, and she pushed the image away, back into the recesses where it belonged. Forgotten, although the lessons she had learned from it still lingered.

  “What did he do?” Jinx asked.

  He’d broken her heart, but that wasn’t what Jinx wanted to know. She redirected her thoughts back to the facts. “He took everything. All the schematics and the prototype for a new kind of chip we’d been working on. And he twisted it. He developed the Threes off what we’d done.”

  That was putting it so mildly. Peter had gone further, augmenting the links in unnatural ways, adding loci of control and means of compulsion—methods of incapacitating and meting out discipline through pain. Most heinously of all, he’d realized the essentialness of widening the link to three people. Two formed an intimacy. A bond. Three, though…three needed consensus. Three created chaos. Three bowed to imposed will.

  “You sound like you regret it.” There was a sadness to his internal voice.

  No one had ever put it like that before. At its heart, it was true. She regretted letting Peter get so close. Regretted letting him use her and take what she had made in the hopes of bringing people together to destroy them. To destroy their humanity and their will.