Tahir’s silent for a long moment. “Then we’ll start the vetting process right away. Normally, you’d need to disconnect from him, even suspended as you are, but given his role in your return to us, we’ll let that go for now.”
My relief and Rik’s twine around one another until any remaining tension pours out of my body. But I’m not quite ready to relax just yet.
“And Brita?”
“Background checks are already underway, at her insistence.”
“Damn right,” Brita chimes in.
“My parents too.”
“Them as well,” Tahir agrees.
Warmth fills me. I’ve been so focused on protecting my friends and family, I nearly forgot how much I need them to bring any meaning to my life. But I won’t have to be alone any longer.
Rik’s hand closes over mine, and I jump at the feedback. Even with our gloves on, the pleasure of touching and being touched magnifies until it reverberates between us like a live current. Overwhelming, and at the same time, something I never knew I needed.
Tahir notices, then looks away, embarrassed. I try to dampen my reaction, but it doesn’t help, not after Rik’s unrepentant grin from behind Tahir’s back. “I’m surprised Aventine OK’ed the safe house,” I say, struggling for normalcy.
Tahir arches his brow, his gaze finding our linked hands once more. His lip twitches. “It’s too risky, bringing you back to HQ right now, considering all the attention. But we aren’t abandoning you completely. K will be keeping you company.”
“Did you give her a choice?” Last time I saw Kat it felt like we came to some sort of understanding, but that was before I knocked her out.
“She volunteered. Something about brushing up on your sparring skills.”
I fight back a smile at that.
“Kat’s great,” Brita says from the couch. “What?” she says at my questioning look. “Someone had to fill me in on everything since you died, and you weren’t available.”
My nightmare’s complete. I can only imagine the stories they’ve shared with one another.
She gets to her feet, a mischievous smile on her face. “Oh, Tahir, I forgot. Got some questions about the press conference and the New Worth News exclusive you’ve promised us, now that Emery’s awake. We should probably discuss them in the other room.” She waggles her eyebrows. “Like, right now.”
Tahir starts guiltily at that. “Oh. Well, I expect the doctor would appreciate the opportunity to see you as well,” he says to me, drifting toward the door after Brita. “I’m glad you’re OK, Emery. Be safe. I still have things to teach you.”
“After her suspension’s up,” Rik says.
“That’ll be up to M,” Tahir says, fighting to keep his tone mild, his face neutral. Then he shuts the door, finally leaving us alone.
I turn to Rik. “He’s really not that bad.”
“He didn’t force you to calibrate with him again, but that’s about all that can be said.”
“When I go back to Aventine…”
“I know. I get it. I just want to keep you to myself for a little bit longer, that’s all.”
I flush at his proprietary tone. “Will it always feel like this?” I don’t need to explain to him the exhilaration, the sense of rightness, and the promise of more.
“I hope so. I guess we’ll find out.” Together.
In the past, he’s always been able to help battle back the dark thoughts that sneak up on me. Now that we’re confidants, being so exposed and vulnerable to his consciousness, the loss of control’s terrifying. >>If it gets to be too much…>>
<
I already know the answer, but it can’t hurt to be sure. “You don’t mind taking things slow?”
“I’ve learned to become incredibly patient when it comes to you,” he says with a grin. Well, not exactly. Only the corner of his mouth tugs up. But the sensation of him grinning comes through with perfect clarity. Like an iceberg – there’s so much more going on under the surface. Things I can now access since we’ve become confidants.
Our connection gives me a split-second warning of his own question for me. One that needs to be spoken aloud. “What happened in Skychapel, this – us – it’s what you wanted?”
For a moment, I don’t understand what he’s asking, then I think back to how things went down from his perspective. Me trying to keep him from being taken away by the police, the calibration an accidental side-effect at best, a mistake at worst. He should know better. We’re partners in this, partners in everything.
I take both of his hands in mine. “The only thing I wanted in that moment was you.” The line of his shoulders relaxes, accompanied by a corresponding quickening across our connection that warms me from the inside. “So I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.” I poke him in the chest with my index finger. “All of me, including Aventine.”
“Pretty sure I’ve already proven myself in that regard.”
I slip off one of my gloves. “Doesn’t mean we can’t practice.”
He takes in a shuddery breath, some of that rawness from earlier creeping back into his gaze as he struggles with the button on the edge of his wristlet. “No. No, it doesn’t.”
Acknowledgments
I wrote this book in scattered bits over a number of years, with many false starts and much uncertainty whether it would ever move out of my head and into yours. Many people helped me reach this point, and they have my unreserved thanks:
To my agent Lana Popović for her tireless support and guidance on this project. To the entirety of Team Robot for helping me bring this book to life: Marc Gascoigne, Phil Jourdan, Mike Underwood, Nick Tyler, Paul Simpson, and Penny Reeve who cheerfully held my hand from beginning to end.
To Lori M Lee and Laura Snapp who have been with me the longest on this journey and have always had my back.
To my fellow Bruisers for all their feedback and sage advice: Nicole Feldringer, Chris Gerwel, Kelly Lagor (especially for her help in designing the hemocryption process), Sara A Mueller, and last but never least, Fran Wilde.
To the members of Critical Mass who have given me a writerly home in the high desert: Emily Mah, John Jos. Miller, MT Reiten, SM Stirling, Janet Stirling, and Sarena Ulibarri. And special thanks to the late Victor Milán, whose support and encouragement over the years was deeply appreciated.
To Christopher East, Christopher Cornell, and Catherine Schaff-Stump for their feedback on an early draft of this project.
To the baristas of my favorite Satellite Coffee in Albuquerque for keeping me well caffeinated as I handwrote the bulk of this book on your couches, overstuffed chairs, and at your café tables.
To my parents for fostering in me a love of reading and learning. One of you thought I could do anything. The other feared for me if I failed. Neither of you are here to see this moment, but I hope you both knew it would come one day.
To my family and friends and colleagues who have supported me in big ways and small over the years. I am grateful you are in my life.
To my husband Eric, my partner in crime and in anything else the world throws our way. I don’t want you in my head, but I want you always by my side. And to my daughter Brynn who is still too young to understand why I am so distracted all the time. Thank you in advance for your patience.
And to you, reader, for joining me on this ride into one of our possible futures.
About the Author
Lauren C Teffeau lives and dreams in the southwestern United States. When she was younger, she poked around in the back of wardrobes, tried to walk through mirrors, and always kept an eye out for secret passages, fairy rings, and messages from aliens. Now, she writes to cope with her ordinary existence. Implanted is her first novel.
laurencteffeau.com • twitter.com/teffeau
Join the Robot Legion
into the digital jungle
ANGRY ROBOT
An imprint of Watkins Media Ltd
20 Fletcher Gat
e,
Nottingham,
NG1 2FZ • UK
angryrobotbooks.com
twitter.com/angryrobotbooks
Recalibrated
An Angry Robot paperback original 2018
Copyright © Lauren C Teffeau 2018
Lauren C Teffeau asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
UK ISBN 978 0 85766 799 1
US ISBN 978 0 85766 799 1
EBook ISBN 978 0 85766 800 4
Cover by Argh! Nottingham.
Set by Argh! Nottingham.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
Angry Robot and the Angry Robot icon are registered trademarks of Watkins Media Ltd.
ISBN: 978-0-85766-800-4
Implanted Page 35