Gilded Lies

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Gilded Lies Page 28

by Lin Lustig


  “Sure, but that's all a bunch of hearsay. There's no proof The Shift really affected anyone.” Emerson adjusted his position, pulling out of John’s touch. He hoped that hadn’t been intentional.

  “But what if it did? What if it affected the world? Affected us.”

  Em propped himself up on an elbow, his shoulder and bicep rounding like a loaf of bread in the oven. “What are you talking about?”

  There was a funny glint in Emerson's eyes. Maybe, just maybe, John's lover was a better actor than he led on. “What if I was someone like that. What if you were someone like that, too?”

  Emerson laughed, plopping down on the pillow and grinning. “You telling me you have superpowers? Because I already know where your talents lie.” Emerson's hand found John's thigh and stroked against the hair, making him shiver. He scooted closer, their bodies aligning.

  “You're more right than you know.” John tried to keep his mind distracted from where his skin connected with Emerson's but failed. His grin turned feral and his hand stroked in a new way. Before he could lose his nerve, John told him.

  “I make people feel aroused.” The words tumbled out.

  Emerson rested his hand on John's hip. “Obviously,” he said. When John let silence stretch between them, Emerson continued. “So, I'm always hard as a bat around you because you're making me?” He raised an eyebrow.

  John shook his head. “That's the best part. I don't seem to affect you. I think it's because you're like me.”

  Emerson pursed his lips. “I'm nothing like that, though,” he said. John perked up. Emerson let his hand wander down John's hip crease. His anxiety mixed with anticipation, his body tightening. “You probably can't affect me because I'm taking everything you give. That's what I do, I drain life from everyone around me.”

  It took John a second to get his brain to reconnect with this mouth. “Since The Shift?”

  Emerson shook his head and looked up at John through his thick eyelashes. “Since I was a teenager.”

  John shivered as Emerson's hand trailed along his aching shaft, distracted by his thoughts and also losing himself to the desire.

  Emerson leaned in and kissed him, then said, “Do you still want me, knowing I'll just take from you the whole time?”

  Even more so. “Fuck yes. Take it all.” John arched into his touch. “I can't stop giving anyway.” They were alike. He’d found someone else as weird and wonderful as him. He didn’t have to be alone.

  Emerson chuckled, then pulled away, fumbling with the bedside table. He came back with his hand wet with lube. John let his vibe completely uncork, something that would usually affect a whole block, but with Emerson there to take it from him, he wasn't afraid. He could just be himself. All of himself.

  He kissed him, tipping to the side to better sweep his tongue against Emerson's. Without fear there was a curious sense of freedom. John let go of his worries, his expectations, his hang-ups. He wasn't afraid of being with Emerson, of challenging who he had been. He gave Emerson everything.

  Everything.

  John's vision returned. He thought back fondly on the memory of him and Emerson, while the one of him and Licia came with a mixed sadness and anxiety—they were connected. All of the visions were.

  Licia had been right, they were reminding John of who he used to be, and who he'd need to become to stop what he'd started with UHP.

  When he'd hidden with Licia and kept their promise, it had only gained them a brief safety. Coming clean with Emerson had given him freedom. Now that the Ferly, specifically his Ferly, had been exposed, it was time to stop hiding. And not just him. It was time to force UHP's skeletons out of the closet, too.

  CHAPTER 57

  John

  Tuesday arrived, and with it came John’s tight throat and spiraling thoughts. He'd made the appointment with Aubrey and her lawyers. He'd given Emerson a time. They even had a meet up point when—if—he got Tarrah, but none of the plans addressed how he'd get through this. His lawyer, Rachel, would be at the meeting to review the terms of his divorce paperwork, and he hoped there'd be a way to slip free and search the facility, but his charm could only carry him so far. Especially with Aubrey expecting him to head up some kind of liaison position. He’d have to find a way around and out of it. Somehow.

  John checked his pocket for his phone before heading down to catch his car service. When the car arrived, he ducked outside and risked the inevitable flash of cameras. It was the first time he'd left the condo since the gala, and the first time he'd let the public see his face, but he wasn't an amateur. This was his game to play, so he tilted his head just right, ducking into the collar of his high-necked woolen jacket, and made sure his winter hat covered all but his eyes, which were hidden behind dark shades. They could speculate all they wanted, but the best he could hope for was a new, bigger story to distract the media.

  The first snow showed up on time and the streets were showing a soft white covering by the time they got close. The Columbia University Medical Center was not unlike any hospital John had seen. The outside was a stark reach of brick and evenly spaced windows staring out like a many-eyed beast. There was something oppressive about the rigid angles and uniform tan-gray of the weathered exterior.

  Inside, however, was organized and functional with clean linoleum floors and bright LED lights. Regardless of the pressure GANF had put on the public to go natural, the hospital gleamed with modern materials and technology, which made John's hands shake as he noticed the cameras in every corner. He patted his phone again, just in case, then got directions from the information desk and followed a carpeted hall to a series of elevators.

  When he'd messaged Aubrey, they'd agreed to meet in her office on the sixth floor, but he doubted he'd find Tarrah up there with her. As the elevator doors slid open, John's heart gave a lurch. Aubrey stood in her tailored lab coat and black clogs, waiting. She looked him over with a hunger in her eyes that made him feel both unnerved and naked—but not in a good way. His vibe seemed to shrink back and away from her, just like he wanted to do.

  Instead he stuck his hands in his wool coat and nodded. “Lead the way.”

  She grinned at him. “Your announcement made headlines on every front page I saw.” She kept her pace even, but too slow for his jittery energy and long legs.

  “At least everyone knows my name now.” Just like he'd wanted back when he’d been a nobody kid with no place to go, but he'd wanted the fame to be from adoration and desire, not mistrust and disgust.

  “I always deliver on my promises.” Her arm brushed against his and he tried not to recoil.

  “So, who let you out early?”

  There was something else that he tried not to notice—a level of familiarity. Years of being married hadn't been without a certain level of companionship, and a disgusting part of him missed it—missed her. He was so glad Licia wouldn’t be able to feel him from wherever she was hiding with Glen. She’d probably choke.

  “It was a team effort. The head of GANF made a compelling argument at my parole hearing. Even you would have been moved.” She paused outside a door that looked like all the others, plain and smooth with unconvincing woodgrain. With a tap of her ID on a plate, the light turned from red to green and she pushed the door open. “John, please meet my attorney. Yours just checked in downstairs and is on her way up.”

  John hesitated to go in. If he followed through with his plan, it would destroy her life's work and her freedom. He'd take everything from the woman who'd given him everything he had. “Aubrey,” he lowered his voice and she leaned in. “Why? Why would you start this again? You're hurting people.”

  Her sunken eyes shone with intensity. “I'm saving people. Everything is above board this time. My patients are volunteers who legally offer their services for this study.” John held his tongue. Em hadn’t volunteered anything, but he also hadn’t been her patient. “Call all the police you want,” Aubrey continued. “You'll just waste both our time.” She stepped past him and into
the room, ending their sidebar.

  The meeting with Rachel, Aubrey, and Aubrey's attorney went smoothly by legal standards, but John's throat felt dry, his tongue swollen, and his body too warm. He’d sweated through the pits of his shirt, but had played it cool enough to earn an Oscar. He wasn't sure what he’d signed by the end of hour-and-a-half long appointment, but at that point, he didn't care. It was nearly six-thirty in the evening by the time the last signature filled the final blank line, and although the hospital had calmed from the rush of the day, it certainly wasn't empty.

  “Thank you for meeting us here at the hospital.” Aubrey's attorney, a balding man with extra weight around his midsection, held out his hand and shook Rachel's hand first, and then John's. Meeting here had been advantageous for them both. John, for the next stage of his plan, and Aubrey because she'd periodically been pulled away to deal with medical emergencies. He prayed to a god he didn't believe in that one of those emergencies wasn't Tarrah.

  “John, would you like that tour now?” Aubrey held open her office door for him.

  “Yes, but I need a restroom break.” He hid his shaking hands, glad he had a year of stage experience to help him keep steady.

  She pointed down the hall to a door marked with a unisex bathroom sign. Instead of using the facilities inside, he splashed water on his face. This was it. Whatever was to come after didn't matter, but tonight he’d fix his mistakes.

  He pulled out his phone and began an audio-only live stream to his social media management account. From there it would spread to Facebook, YouTube and half a dozen minor offshoots. He tried not to think about it. Tried to turn off the actor and turn on the real him—if there even was a real him.

  “This is John Beechum, investigating UHP's claims of goodwill towards Abnormals, which I call Ferly. Wish me luck,” he said aloud and then locked the screen and tucked the phone back in his pocket, then stepped back out into the hall.

  People would be listening in on every word he was about to utter, every comment to be made, every judgment passed as he tried to expose the truth behind UHP's underground experimentation. If this was to be his end, then the least he could do was take Aubrey with him.

  “I'm glad you're here, even if it took a divorce to get you back.” Aubrey's voice was as passionless as always, her inflection about as varied as her expressions. John flinched. One more secret now made public.

  Aubrey’s pointed nose and sharp chin made her look more severe than he knew her to be, but her softly curled hair helped negate some of it. He couldn't remember what he'd seen in her all those years ago, other than safety and security, then again, maybe that had been enough.

  “How many of us have you been working with?”

  “Only a couple. Your kind is devilishly hard to find.” Aubrey pulled out her ID card and swiped it at two sets of double doors, leading them away from her office to a private elevator. She set her card at the sensor and pushed the call button. He knew the others were waiting for his signal, but even if he gave it, they'd never make it past the security. It was better to leave them out of this. They could get pissed at him later, but it would keep them safe. They stepped inside and she pushed a button for the basement level.

  “There was a young woman announced at the gala. Tarrah?”

  “Ah yes, she's been quite the asset.”

  The elevator dropped down; John's stomach wanted to stay on the floor above. He swallowed hard. “What's her ability?”

  “She sees things we can't explain, but until you sign the NDA with your contract that's all I can tell you.”

  The elevator opened into another stark hospital hallway with white speckled floor tiles, creamy walls, and inset windows with pale blinds for privacy. They walked past a semi-circular desk of nurses, a small lobby with six chairs, and a few closed doors labeled for labs, storage, and X-rays. Unfortunately, there wasn't a door conveniently labeled Jammers or Abnormal records.

  “Why all the extra security?” John asked as Aubrey scanned her card once again at a locked door.

  “Given what you did twelve years ago, I'm surprised you bother to ask. This is the ward dedicated to Abnormals. We have three occupied rooms, and a couple of volunteers not on site. We have a dedicated lab and pharmacy, as well as a twenty-four-person team under me. Six specialists, eight lab techs, seven nurses, myself, and three researchers dedicated to Jammer development and production.”

  “That's... fewer than I expected.” In his mind, Aubrey's reach had exploded out to encompass the whole of UHP, not just the head of a pin. Doubt crept in at what he was doing. Taking down the whole company might also mean impacting international humanitarian aid and disaster relief in the US. How much evil did the company have to commit before it canceled out the good?

  “The program was downsized after the tragedy, but that's when they called me in. Now we're rebuilding. With the new Jammers we can expand. GANF just donated fifty million in addition to our budget. Now that we're public, it's only going to grow.”

  John felt sick and conflicted. If everyone here really were volunteers, then wasn’t he making a choice for them by exposing the program? Or worse, what if there was nothing to expose? They had no idea if Tarrah was here of her own free will or if she wanted to be freed. He’d have to make the same offer he made Azami.

  Aubrey steered him down a hall of internal windows to patient rooms. “How long has Tarrah been here?” John walked up to one of the shaded windows, peering through like he might find her.

  “Here? Not quite a year. She was in a facility in the UK before that. She's been in and out of hospitals since she was quite young.”

  “Can I see her?”

  Aubrey's eyes flicked to another room down the hall, then shook her head. “Maybe later. After we've agreed on the terms of your position. Once you’re a part of the team I'll introduce you to whomever you want.” Aubrey held out her hand, directing John further down the hall. He stepped past her. A sharp prick pierced into the meat of his thigh.

  “The fuck?” He stared at a syringe in Aubrey's hand as she pressed down, injecting him with a clear liquid.

  “Just a precaution.” Aubrey said. “A concentrated dose of the Jammer compound.”

  Panic flared through John's system as something invisible pressed him down. The weight dragged his shoulders off-balance. He slapped Aubrey's hand and the syringe away, but he had to lean on a wall for support. He pulled on the cork in his belly, reaching for the effervescence he'd let build up. Flat. Even as he yanked the stopper completely free on his ability nothing happened.

  He scrambled his phone out of his pocket, forgetting that he'd locked the screen. Aubrey snatched it before he could use his fingerprint to get in. She tucked it into her lab coat.

  “Phones are against hospital policy. Now, there's someone I'd like you to meet.” Her apathy did little to decrease his rising panic. He'd hoped to keep the others out of this if possible, but now he was flying solo without a safety net. He'd never felt this way. There was nothing inside him, no vibe to hold back or bring forth, not even a hint of the part of him he most relied on. What if she’d found a way to remove his vibe permanently?

  “Why are you doing this?” His balance returned, but not his vibe.

  “Striking a deal without being unduly manipulated? I know you, Jayden. I know what you do, and how you get your way, and I don't have the patience to let you tire yourself out.”

  He'd underestimated the lengths she'd go to for this—whatever this really was. The sinking feeling made it hard to stay upright as he suspected her plans weren't what he'd anticipated. He had to keep the ongoing live stream on his phone hidden, and now he’d lost the ability to call Licia for help using his vibe. He was on his own. That was the burden of leadership, wasn't it? To stand alone against that which would hurt your people. He steadied himself. “You can't hold me against my will.”

  “Oh, I won't be. Come on, now. He's a busy man.”

  CHAPTER 58

  Emerson

&
nbsp; Emerson tailed Glen with an ID badge around his neck stolen from a guard he'd absorbed into sleep—who was now propped up on a toilet seat in the men's room. They looked nothing alike on the ID other than they were both medium brown with cropped hair, but he hoped no one would look too closely. He and Glen were led through a maze of cubicles by a woman in slacks and a white blouse who tripped over her own words in an effort to understand why the surprise audit was happening.

  The lady glanced at their ID's as she walked. Emerson shifted a little, hoping she didn't notice that the photo was clearly a different person.

  She made it to a corner office that overlooked the busy, snow covered street below, and pawed at a tablet on the desk.

  “Ah, I see. The D.C. headquarters sent the confirmation. Okay, well, where do you want to start?”

  “All of your financial records, both printed and digital. I'll need access to your network and systems as well. Don't worry, this is all purely preventative. Think of it like a practice test so we can learn where to concentrate our efforts in the future.” Glen adjusted his cuffs but stopped when he noticed Emerson watching the nervous tick.

  He was impressed with Glen's cool control of the situation. Luckily, no one had addressed Emerson or asked him anything about the audit. Money was the last thing he knew about. He'd dressed to match Glen's slick, high-end look in his best suit and his tailor-made rubber soled dress shoes, but somehow it only made Emerson feel more out of place. His suit tie was too tight, and he preferred his shoes steel-toed. When the time came to make a quick escape, he'd have to get creative.

  The woman, Pat—who loved gardening and talking when she was nervous—beckoned them to follow her down a long colorless hall. Their slow pace made his anxiety jump. His full hollow also made him feel jittery, like a sugar high. He couldn't remember the last time he’d felt like this. It was like his body was plugged in and was getting full voltage all the way down to his toes. He needed to move, but he needed to keep his cover more. Still, he wanted to jog ahead and urge her to speed the hell up.

 

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