“I’m still working on that one, Leesie.” He raises his eyebrows a little as his eyes search mine.
“All right, Luke. You’re right. Danger. What do you need me to do?”
Chapter
I walk toward Alsinboro, toward my truck, feeling heavy. I feel tired from being tense all day. I don’t know how many hours my shoulders have been hunched up or how many hours my nostrils have been flared, but I swear even my face is tired. I have to suck it up. I have reading to do. I have journaling to do. Luke and I are just getting started.
He walks next to me, saying nothing. He seems to need a break from talking, and I am happy to give him one. We were at Eri’s for nearly three hours before we got to this point, the point of me having enough background information for us to make a plan of action.
Now we walk back to the academy to part ways. I go home to digest and read, and he goes home to do more of his super-spy work, I guess. As much as I look forward to being alone in a short while, I can’t help but to feel uneasy when I think of going to my apartment. My apartment that sits atop the regional Preceptors’ headquarters, atop Tobias’s offices.
How is it for him? I wonder. I mean, he’s using me, right? I am just a girl with a special power on a special mission. As long as I report to him and seem to be doing what I am supposed to be doing, he doesn’t care about anything else. He shouldn’t watch my comings and goings with vested interest. Then why won’t Luke come back to my apartment with me? I hadn’t asked him, but he addressed it when it was decided that I would take the files back home to read them and familiarize myself with the particulars of the discovery. He said he would come to answer any questions and to discuss the mission further, but that it wasn’t wise. Wasn’t wise. What does that mean? Is Tobias onto Luke? Or is it me? Am I being watched? Could Tobias suspect something? Or could Tobias be watching me already simply because of how important this mission is?
Alsinboro beckons ahead of us now. We cross the street and turn left toward the parking lot. His car is close, but he doesn’t lose stride. He must be walking me to my truck. A few feet from it, he slows and turns to me.
“You holding up okay?” he asks lightly.
“Sure. Fine.” I try to sound light, too, but there’s a heaviness I know we both can hear.
“I know it’s a lot, Leesie. I know what it’s like to lose a Preceptor. It sucks.”
Luke does know what I am feeling, and I take comfort in that. I hate when people try to fit their negative scenarios into yours when they offer words of understanding or encouragement. They usually come off sounding weak or just plain stupid. As if they’re trying to compete or don’t get it at all. Luke’s not trying to make me feel better. He seems to know that I will be okay, or at least he is leaving it up to me to figure out if I will or not. I hate when people say “hang in there” or “get over it and move on.” I wish people knew that telling someone what to do with their own emotions usually does not go over well… .
“Yep. Sucks,” is all I reply.
I don’t have it in me at the moment to be coy or clever. Oddly enough, I am alone with him and I don’t feel like flirting.
He moves a step closer to me. “Look, I know we’re not done here. I wish I could stand here with you all night. I wish we could forget about Preceptors and missions for a while and concentrate on … other things. But we have a lot to do. I’m not blowing you off. We just both need the night to figure things out. I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”
Wow.
Blunt. Direct. Explains himself without prompting. Plans time for me in the near future. And then proceeds to clue me in as to exactly when that near future is. What’s he got the manual that gives step-by-step directions on how to deal with me? I’d pinch myself, but I don’t believe in self-inflicted pain for the sake of a boy.
I refrain from swooning and pretend I’m not fazed by his care and candor so that I can test him to see if it’s an all-the-time behavior or something he’s just throwing at me now because we are in the beginning stages of whatever this is and he’s on his best behavior. You never know.
“Sure. Tomorrow’s fine. Bye, Luke.”
I make brief eye contact, just long enough for him to say, “Bye.” Then I look away and walk on to my truck. No lingering like a needy dog. There’s nothing worse than a dog that begs and circles and stares immediately after getting a treat. You want to make a mental note not to offer a treat again until it learns not to appear so pathetic. Get the treat and move on. Have some self-respect.
It surprises me that I can focus on my fluttery feelings for Luke on a day when my powers of Navigation and Extraction were thwarted, my friend Eri is actually an Aurae—something I didn’t even know existed until today—and my mission was exposed as a plot to potentially turn Extraction into a mind-erasing weapon. But I’m glad I feel fluttery—it’s a distraction, and a pleasant one at that.
The pleasant distraction doesn’t last once I’m in my truck. The realization that I am going home and that Tobias will inevitably summon me is unnerving. I know in a second that I cannot go back. Not yet. I need something to fuel me first. I reach for my phone and dial Daisy’s number.
“Hello?” It’s evident in her voice that she’s surprised I’m calling.
“Daisy. Hi. It’s Leesie.”
“Leesie, hey. Everything okay?”
“Sure. Um, I’m sorry to bother you. I know it’s dinnertime, but—”
“No. No bother. You feeling okay? Frances said you left early with Eri.”
Leaving art class early seems like a lifetime ago, considering all I have learned since then. I rush to explain: “Right. Weird thing. Must have been my lunch. Something wasn’t sitting right. I went to Eri’s. I feel okay now.”
“Oh. Good.”
“Look, Daisy. I realized today that I lost a bracelet. I think I may have dropped it at the stables. Do you think it’s all right if I go there to look for it? Would I be allowed in?”
After assuring me she’ll text me the address, call ahead to the barn to prep them for my arrival, and telling me she hopes I feel better and that I find what I am looking for, we hang up.
I hope I find what I am looking for, too, Daisy.
Saanen Stables is alive with activity when I pull into the parking area next to the barn. In the riding ring is an older woman on a black horse. She’s addressing three young riders. Jumps are set up around them. The barn light is on. I pass a boy in chaps with a bridle draped over his shoulders and a western saddle in his arms. He nods to acknowledge me as he leaves the barn. Once I’m inside I realize I am alone.
I pass Jackson, who is nibbling hay, and Mr. Fellerman, who is whittling away at the wood of his stall, and I inhale deeply as I make my way down the row. Is she in here? My footsteps inspire curiosity. Heads poke out of stalls on both sides of me. And then I see the dark chocolate brown of Cleo’s noble head.
I stop in front of her, and she regards me the same way she did before. I send my breath out across her nose. She pricks her ears. I rub the velvet of her lower lip. She nips the collar of my shirt. I slide my hands over her jaws. I will the familiarity of her touch and her smell to take me somewhere. I close my eyes.
Nothing happens at first, but as I settle in, regulate my breathing, and remind myself of the connection I felt when I was last here, a scene begins to play in my head. It’s jumbled and charcoal gray, but I know that I am inside a dark building. I am sitting on something cushiony like sawdust or straw. I am holding a wriggling object in my arms, and another, much larger, object looms over the top of me. I run my hands from Cleo’s face to her neck, and I lean into her as she moves her head to the side, letting me hug her. I melt into her warmth and into the feel of her. I press my eyes tighter together. And I know. The wriggling object in my arms is a foal. I am in its mother’s stall. She stands over me calmly as her baby’s lanky limbs surround me, its side and belly warm my lap, and its fuzzy head rests on my shoulder.
The scene is a small piece, so it c
annot fill the gaping holes in my head on its own. But it’s a start. Allowing this barn and Cleo to alert my senses enabled me to remember. I remember something. Tobias may be lying to me about a lot of things. But it turns out he was right on about one thing. I am getting stronger.
On the drive home, I drown myself in music. I turn up the volume as loud as I can stomach and constantly change stations, replacing every song with one faster than the last. I need drums crashing, screaming lyrics, and preferably songs with themes of power or vengeance. After two dumb love songs and one about accepting oneself, I give up and turn off the radio. I roll down the windows all the way and push on the gas a little more instead. I don’t want to lose this feeling. I hadn’t known whether my memories were repressed or removed. And I still don’t. I cannot account for all of them. But I can say I got one back today. And I have a plan to see about getting back another.
On the way up to my apartment, I think about tomorrow and about Luke and Eri’s plans for the very near future. Eri’s plan centers on taking time to strategize. She seems content with the fact that we are all on the same page now. We have no more secrets, so of course we can fight this. I just don’t think Eri’s is operating at a high enough speed. Preceptors are one mission away from having the ability to control Seers becoming Extractors. And then they control Extractions. We’re talking life-alteringly dangerous. For Seers. For Eri, too. For Luke. For Dr. Kuono. Daisy. Patrick. Frances. They are all involved, and they are all expendable. Eri’s plan of waiting and working together doesn’t sit well with me, knowing that the lives of all the people I care about are on the line.
And Luke’s plan? Luke’s plan that I’m not privy to? I think it’s because he isn’t done hashing one out. Or maybe he’s got to clear it with his army. At Eri’s he put an emphasis on getting all the background information before we develop a plan of action. So I was to come here tonight to read through the files. But knowing that we need to intercept the knowledge of the discovery from Dr. Kuono so that it never ends up in the hands of Preceptors, isn’t that enough in order for us to move forward on this? There isn’t much time to discuss or decide. All this wait-and-see nonsense is for the birds.
I perch in my chair and stare out at the cityscape. I am waiting for something else. I don’t have to wait long.
“Good evening, Elise.”
“Hello, Daniel.”
“Ready?”
Daniel is accustomed to waiting patiently in the doorway for me as I gather my things. But tonight I grab nothing.
“Yes. I’m ready.”
When Tobias spins to address me seconds after I’ve settled in my seat, his eyes fall to the clear desk pad in front of him.
“Forget something, did you?”
“No. I haven’t written yet today. I wasn’t well.”
“Not well?”
“No.”
I try to focus on his questions. They are always fast-pitched, and he expects readied and complete answers. I have never fought such a battle with my body or with my face before. The battle over my body is easier. I have commanded it not to lurch forward and unleash a pounding complete with torn flesh, biting, and kicking. And I can’t attack him anyway, not before I get some answers. I am tuned into the level of tension I’m displaying in my shoulders and hands. But the tension in my face. How am I doing there? It’s agonizing to mask fear and loathing and instead display respect and reverence.
“I see. And you have nothing for me, then?”
“I do.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. When I had a bout of nausea, it was Eri who got me out of class. I spent the afternoon at her house. She let me rest and gave me something for my stomach. I made headway with her today. I am sure I’ll be invited over to her house after school tomorrow. And I don’t see why I wouldn’t be permitted to stay until her father gets home.”
“And you are ready for Dr. Kuono? You know what memory you will Extract?”
Tobias seems to be trying hard to keep his body and face relaxed, too. And he’s doing a decent job. Too bad the veins popping out of each temple are giving him away.
Now is the time. I slide both of my hands from my lap to my stomach and take a deep breath. I stand suddenly. I rest both hands, palms down, on the desk pad in front of me. I continue to lean forward until I am almost assuming push-up position. My face is inches from his. I inhale as deeply as I can. I pinch my eyes closed.
“Elise! What is this?”
I take one more breath and let myself go. I’ve taken Tobias by surprise enough that he is frozen. I take advantage of the stillness in front of me and lean in. Just a little closer. I feel him suck in air. He shifts back slightly.
“I’m sorry, Tobias. I apologize. My stomach. Something still isn’t right,” I sputter. I stand up straighter but clutch my stomach with both hands.
His look of disgust turns to one of horror. He must be picturing the effect vomit would have on the cleanliness of his desk.
“Go. Go! But I expect an entry. Tomorrow. Now, go!”
I’ll go. I’m done here, anyway.
Chapter
On my previous missions Tobias has always supplied background information. Addresses, phone numbers, physical descriptions, information about family dynamics. Having this information enabled me to Navigate or to Extract successfully.
But I have been left to my own devices when it comes to my background. I have been given no addresses, no phone numbers, and no physical descriptions of loved ones or family members, much less any information about the nature of my lost family dynamics.
Where are the files on me? Surely the extensive research conducted daily at headquarters on strangers, strangers we meet for missions and then hear nothing more about, pales in comparison to the amount of research that was conducted on me, a fellow Seer. A valuable Extractor.
But to my own devices I am left. And on my own devices I rely. And on my own senses. I spend the rest of my evening pouring through the files on Dr. Kuono and sifting through my own head.
Thanks to Saanen Stables I can now see a horse. A roan mare with a white stripe from forelock to muzzle. She half walks, half trots to me as I enter the paddock. She bypasses my waiting hands and nudges my pocket where she knows she will find an apple, always an apple. She knows me. She knows me because she is mine.
And thanks to the musk, the heavy, spicy perfume I inhaled as I leaned in close to Tobias, I can also see a row of houses, brownstones, with marble front steps and elaborate wrought-iron railings defining each front porch. A cement retaining wall separates the sidewalk from the properties, which sit back from the street. They are towering and formidable. In the center house, the one with no blooming marigolds, no mums, no shrubbery or manicured lawn, in the center house, in the center of the doorway, behind the full-glass storm door, stands a man. I know him. I know him because he is Tobias. Tobias exists in my memory. My old memories. Before I showed up at his door.
When I finally go to sleep, I feel resolved. Empowered. I’m ready to challenge the system, fight with Luke and Eri beside me. I feel like a genius with an ingenious plan.
But when I wake up in the morning, I feel like a naked tree. Because today I will be shedding my leaves and blowing my cover to Tobias.
I am not going to say anything. I am going to hand Tobias my journal and watch him read it. What will he do when he reads about my memory of him? What will he do when he realizes I remember things at all? What will he do when he realizes I know he existed in my life before it was taken from me and that he can no longer pretend he had nothing to do with it? Will he squirm in his seat? Will he gasp in shock? No, not Tobias. It will be subtle, a sight change in expression. But if it is as Luke and Eri believe, if he is the one who stole my memories, he will react, and I will know.
Both Eri and Luke are in the parking lot when I finally arrive. They have exasperated looks on their faces, as if they are sick of waiting or worrying.
She’s at my window before I can put the truck in park.
“You’re late! We have almost no time before class! Where have you been?”
“Doing my nails and putting together this fabulous ensemble. You like?” I make sure my words have a slight snarl to them to top off the sarcasm. Like I would be late intentionally today. Right. I’m an idiot. Give me more credit than that, Eri. I step out of my truck, slam the door, and add, “I was in traffic. Philly, remember?”
“Oh. Sorry. You don’t need to get all red on me. I was worried.”
When was I going to get used to this Aurae thing? I use a little sarcastic attitude to convey my annoyance and hide my anger, but she can see the whole thing in color.
“I know. I should have called or texted or something. Just an accident on the bridge. I didn’t mean to make you worry.” She watches the air around me as I speak, and a smile starts and spreads. I don’t even think she listened to me just now. I guess my colors are more interesting to her than my words.
We turn and head a couple of parking spots over to where Luke stayed when Eri ran to interrogate me. I’m guessing he knew it wouldn’t go over well.
“Traffic?” he asks.
“Traffic.”
“I tried to tell her. But she was imagining one horrible thing after another that could have happened to you.” His eyes search mine. Then I watch those dark eyes dance over my face, my hair, and pause at my lips.
He’s watching my mouth as I answer, “And you? Not worried?”
“No. I don’t worry about you.”
Such a loaded statement. How does he manage to speak volumes in a single sentence? Is he saying what I think he’s saying? I need to be sure.
“Good,” I answer, being sure to remove any tone, any inflection, from my voice.
“Yes. It is good.”
So he is saying what I think he’s saying. He doesn’t worry about me because he doesn’t have to. Well, that’s a relief. With all that overprotective hovering he does with Eri, I was concerned that he was just that way. He was just one of those guys who cares about a girl and turns into Super Boyfriend, flying around, saving her from other boys, herself, the world. Gross. I wouldn’t be able to tolerate that. I can’t be coddled. I can’t be cajoled or cooed at. I need to just be. And I want a guy to just be with me. If he keeps this up, he just may get the job.
Seers Page 14