by Sarah Noffke
The old log is exactly where I remember it––nestled in a patch of sand and dirt, encircled by a column of trees. It’s a relief to find the refuge I spent so many hours in as a child untouched by the last few months. I wish I could say the same about me, but my short time at the Institute has left branding marks on my insides. I sink down onto the fallen oak tree and feel the weight of my confusing emotions settle on the log along with me. The last time I was in this clearing I’d been such a different person. None of this dream travel or Lucidite business was even a blip on my radar. Now, I’m fully engulfed in this life and it’s drowning me. The Roya from a few months ago would never have believed all this.
The stagnant air swishes gently. I should have known better than to think I’d get a moment to myself. I don’t escape by dream traveling because my forlorn heart wants to play with fire and prove it’s strong enough to stomp it out. I stay unmoving, waiting for him to approach. First I take stock of my heart’s messages. Then I lock it under the logic of my mind, which knows not to trust any emotions. With a practiced effort, I push my emotional shield out, ensuring whatever fleeting wrong or right feelings I have remain private. I chant in my head the words which have become my mantra: I don’t love Chase.
The twigs don’t even crunch under Chase’s feet as he advances. I look up and see him for exactly who he is: A ridiculously gorgeous murderer.
I don’t need a patch for my charm. I don’t need anything from the Institute. I can do this alone.
A chain drapes off the middle button of Chase’s vest and disappears behind his open suit jacket, probably into a side pocket and connected to an elegant watch. He’s even more impeccably dressed than usual. As casually as a man waiting for a train, he kickstands himself up against the tree closest to me. Unafraid, I meet his enchanting eyes, holding his all-pervading gaze which threatens to swallow me whole. Dancing with the devil tonight actually sounds like a good idea.
“What a gift,” he says, his voice like warm silk to my arctic-scorched soul. “I’ve got you all to myself.”
A reply stays locked in my mouth. Instead I indulge myself by taking in every exquisite detail about him. Murderer or not, he’s still the most striking specimen to ever live. He shouldn’t be here. He should be in a museum so all the world can relish his beauty and experience the raw intensity that radiates from him. Suddenly I wish I was up against him, because at least from that vantage point I couldn’t see just how flawless he is.
“What are you doing here?” The offense I was trying to inject in my tone comes out sounding more like curiosity.
A ghost of a smile flicks across his face. Motionless eyes watch me for a few seconds. “The reasons I’m here are many. And the result of our visit shall hopefully be successful.”
Unwrapping my arms from around my legs I stand up. To know I can move is encouraging. I’m not frozen by his allure like usual. Deliberately I take steps until only a couple of feet separate us. “Why do you stalk me?”
Pushing off the tree, Chase stands upright, face amused. “They have not told you?” He clicks his tongue three times. “How come you trust people who are unwilling to be honest with you?”
“Told me what?” I say, again the words mine, the ability to move and think still within my control. But my heart is manic with a flurry of competing emotions.
“I need you to know who I am before I tell you why I’m here.”
“I know who you are,” I say. “You’re a deranged murderer.” Instantly my heart races, frantic that I’ve offended him. I clap a hand down on it. Steady my thoughts.
Chase, unflustered by my name calling, slides his palms back and forth across each other. “And you know this because the Lucidites have deemed it so, is that right? The same people who hide important information from you?” He pouts his lips, shakes his head. “Roya, you’re so much smarter than that. Don’t let your judgment be clouded.”
“I don’t trust anyone. How’s that for judgment?”
“That’s a good place to start,” Chase says, his long black eyelashes falling down slowly as a pleased smile forms on his face. “Now, the Lucidites have told you who I am, but I’m willing to show you.”
“What does that mean?”
“You’re intrigued, are you not?”
I draw in a long breath, my heart racing, beating itself against the bars of its cage.
“Close your eyes,” Chase demands, a lovely harshness in his voice.
“Absolutely not.”
Chase huffs, looking aggravated for the first time. “Have I ever hurt you? No, I haven’t. And I don’t intend to. I haven’t even touched you since we met tonight, have I? I simply want to show you some things.”
My mind, which is completely lucid, considers the idea. If Trey knew I was here right now, he’d be livid. My heart flushes with rebellion and it’s the first time since Chase arrived that I think I’ve experienced an authentic emotion. I unlock the cage and let my heart free as I close my eyes.
“Good girl,” Chase purrs. “Now watch.”
Light explodes across my vision, not blinding me, but warming my mind. I see no images, but instead feel a host of memories pour into me. Instantly I’m aware of Chase’s thoughts and emotions, as if they’re my own. Then I receive a volume of information about him, detailing past hurts and successes, dozens of his likes and dislikes, and intimately acquainting me with the image he holds of himself. Gasping from the sudden rush of experiences I snap my eyes open. In less than a minute I learned more about Chase than I would after a dozen dates. And what I know is startling. He doesn’t see any of his acts of violence as senseless, but rather retribution for crimes committed against him…by Trey.
“You see, mon amour, I’m willing to give you all of me,” Chase says, taking a step closer. “This is not a game. I show you who I am. The Lucidites tell you who they are. Who do you really believe?”
“I don’t… I don’t… know,” I stutter, my mind a mess of images and unfathomable thoughts.
“What do you feel?”
“I feel confused,” I say.
“Take my hand and we will figure it out together.” His long-fingered hand extends, palm open.
It’s both a rod pulled from hot coals and a rope thrown over the cliff I hang from. I shake my head roughly.
He tightens his eyes, furious disappointment in them. “The reason we keep meeting,” he says, biting on each of the words, “is because you belong to me.”
Maybe it’s being capsized by so much of him, but I suddenly don’t have such a tight grip on my heart’s urges. Can feel my attraction to him. Pulsing. Racing. My heart begs to embrace the undying love we share and still I feel half in control. It’s a joy ride where each curve threatens with near-death and each straightaway soothes the adrenaline rush. “I belong to you…” I say, like I’m testing out words, learning a new language.
“Yes, that’s right,” Chases coerces gently. “Are you still confused?”
I nod, because I am. I’m split in two, half wanting to run into his arms and also away.
“Take my hand,” he commands, all softness gone.
I remain frozen. Not running. Not accepting the outstretched hand.
“Don’t you want me?”
“Yes,” I say, without meaning to. Believe it with half my being.
A sliver of a smile carves his lips. I convulse softly under the weight of his brilliant gaze.
“Do you want to spend an eternity with me?”
“Yes,” someone says and the voice sounds uncannily like mine.
“Good, touch me.”
I want to. More than anything I want to. But clamped down firmly upon my being are chains from my mind, controlling my body even though they fail to control my words.
“This time I won’t tempt you, although I know that will work. This time I want you to make the first move. Do it. Touch me.”
The word “no” is trapped inside me. And the need to flee is as well. The temptation to press my mouth a
gainst his increases rapidly and the longer I hold out the more my blood boils. I reach my hand up to his face but pause when it’s almost there, yanking it away. Chase doesn’t look deterred, but rather entertained.
“I see we still have a disconnect here,” he says. “My guess is that your own conservative nature is blocking you from what you really want. This might be fortunate for the Roya who operates you right now, but soon you will evolve and be the person I control. Isn’t that what you really want anyway? To do what pleases me?”
Again words fall out of my mouth unsanctioned from my brain. “Yes, Chase.”
Beside us something flickers but I don’t turn to look at it, afraid to take my eyes off Chase. Afraid he’ll disappear.
“Roya,” Shuman’s deep voice calls at my back. “It is time to go.” There’s a vicious caution in her words.
Chase makes a half turn. Still slightly tethered to his thoughts, I know he plans to hurt her. Can kill her all too easily right now if he chooses. Is more powerful than she and I and all the energy that created the forest around us. Disconnecting from the shadows of his thoughts I turn to find a standoff. Shuman has risked everything by showing up here.
Risked. Risked. Risked.
Why would there be a risk where Chase is concerned? One that would bring Shuman here? To bring me back to the Institute? I know the answer and I don’t. Can’t quite locate it inside my mushy brain.
“You really shouldn’t have interrupted, rattlesnake handler,” Chase says in a voice he’s never used when speaking to me. Threats coat each word, like a curse to the recipient. His fingers flex. I know enough from witnessing his memories to recognize he’s building the minuscule energy it will take to send Shuman into a deadly hypnotic state. One she won’t be able to resist. One that will end her.
Dashing forward I cut Chase off. Spin around until I’m facing him. His eyes stay focused on Shuman. My hand sprays out against Chase’s chest, pressing into it gently, encouraging him to retreat. The feel of his body under my fingertips rips through me with unbridled desire. Chase’s gaze lowers until he’s focused upon my hand, on him. A victorious smile laces his lips. Now that we’re connected through touch rationality is slipping out of me. It’s like a hurricane, sending debris in all directions, shattering every window inside me. With the last bit of logic I have left I say, “Please don’t hurt her.”
In a blur, Chase pins my wrist in his hand and yanks, whirling me around until my back is flush up against his chest. He secures my head in place by pinning his face up against mine. Pinching my wrist he imprisons the hand I used to touch him, pushing me so firmly into him that my chest hardly has a space to breathe. By my side he restrains my other hand, jerking it back, fastening it to his leg. I stare out at Shuman, without seeing her.
Cool breath dances across my cheek. “I see now you only need to be properly motivated. I’ll keep that in mind,” Chase says, his jaw moving in firm movements against mine as he speaks. “Next time there will be no resisting me. I can promise you that. Because vous êtes né à m’aim-er. You were born to love me.” Like a flame being snuffed out, he disappears, leaving only hungry emotions behind. I clutch the night air that used to be him and stare into Shuman’s impassive eyes.
Chapter Twenty-One
“How did you know I was here?” I say, straightening up, brushing the cold off me.
“I am clairvoyant,” Shuman says, searching the forest around us, although I can guarantee her that Chase isn’t anywhere around. I’d feel him if he was.
“Right. So you knew I was with Chase?” I ask, embarrassment spreading up my neck
“I knew you were soon going to be in trouble,” she says, settling her eyes on me. “I realize you thought you were strong enough to resist him.” Her tone is soft as she speaks, but not quite sensitive. “And you are, but you need to recognize that he is stronger.”
“I was able to resist him, though,” I defend, watching branches sway behind her in the wind.
“Yes?”
“Yes, I had the emotions from my heart locked down and was solely operating based on my thoughts.”
“Then what happened?”
“Somehow he was able to connect to me. Show me things about him. It wasn’t like he was in my thoughts, but rather sharing his with me,” I say.
“One-way thought transference,” Shuman states.
“Oh, well, it’s totally creepy,” I say. A shiver runs down my spine as his memories rush back to me.
“And this information you learned confused you, is that right?”
“He said that what I knew about him was wrong. That what I know about the Institute is false. And he showed me details that made me…”
“Sympathetic to him?”
“Yes…I mean no….” I sigh with defeat. “It made everything confusing and the moment my thoughts were jumbled I didn’t have a way to stay grounded.”
“Do you think that he censored what he shared with you?”
“Of course he did,” I say, the idea suddenly dawning on me. I want to slap myself in the face. How stupid am I? His memories had instantly endeared me to him, created a foundation that otherwise would have taken months, if not years, to create. And I fell for it, slowly slid into a pit where I identified with him until I was unable to fully control myself. “But he did share dark things with me too,” I say, trying to rationalize my faulty judgment. “For instance, I was still connected to some of his thoughts when you arrived. I knew he planned to...”
“Kill me,” Shuman states, a little too calmly.
“Yes,” I breathe. “Why did you show up knowing that was a possibility? Chase is dangerous, and as his grip on me tightens he’s more likely to kill anyone who comes between us.” Those words are true and yet I can’t believe they’re my observation. Half the time I don’t know where the information inside me comes from anymore.
“I did take a risk showing up here in the forest. But it was one I knew was necessary,” Shuman says, her words all tidy and matter-of-fact. “You have heard me speak of the fabric of our reality before. Well, my gift, along with reason sometimes informs me that intervention either in the past or the present will bring about certain events. I interfered because it secured a more peaceful future for all.”
As usual, Shuman’s statement is bold and makes zero sense. The thing is, as long as she keeps intervening in my life, I can’t prove that she’s in fact wrong. She’s like the fairy godmother I never wanted. And with her there’s no gown and fancy shoes, but she’ll surely send me to a ball in something that’ll explode into a vegetable if I don’t mind the time. I swallow down the untimely laugh. “Do you know why Chase thinks I belong to him?”
“I do not,” she says in an airy whisper, still searching the shadows for predators.
“I need answers though.”
“I cannot offer those. All I can tell you is that if Chase succeeds in recruiting you then a delicate balance will be lost.”
“And what will that cause?”
“It will destroy the Institute.”
No pressure then, right. I’ve never asked for any of this and still it feels like so much relies on me and what I do. How can that be? How can I be so pivotal when it’s not something I desire?
“Are you going to tell Trey about this?” I ask, again taking a seat on the old log.
“Are you going to attempt to dream travel before your protective charm has a patch?”
“No,” I say.
“Well, then I see no reason to concern him with this. He has enough troubles.”
“Yeah, I’m sure it’s a bit consuming for him to know he’ll be hunted down by the Lord of Nightmares soon.”
Shuman never likes my jokes. Now is no exception. “I believe the future concerns Trey, but not his own. I believe he’s mostly concerned with yours and Joseph’s.”
“Why is it that since everyone’s found out I’m Trey’s offspring all conversations are different? Why can’t I just be the girl who almost drowned coming
to the Institute? Why does everything have to now be about my relation to that man?”
“If you renounced your life here as a Lucidite, would it mean you were never one of us? Would it erase your time at the Institute?”
“Of course not,” I say, picking at the bark on the tree, upsetting a dozen ants.
“The same is true for your blood. If you disown your father, it does not change the fact that he made choices on your behalf. You are forever tied to those decisions because they molded you. It would be a great benefit to accept the choices as well as the blood that runs through you. Right now you are divided by pain. But your father is not your enemy. He is the roots to our society, which is in more danger than ever before.”
“Does that make me an acorn on this Lucidite tree?”
Shuman leans forward, narrows her almond-shaped eyes. “If you wish. But know this, ‘no tree has branches so foolish as to fight amongst themselves.’”
“Thanks for the advice,” I say dully. “I’m actually not real consumed with Trey and the Institute right now. I’ve got Chase to worry about. I don’t know why he’s after me. And it feels important. You more than anyone can appreciate that gut feeling.”
“I do. And I think you should heed its warning.”
“Well, what do I do about it?”
“Wait,” Shuman says, crossing her arms tightly so they make a squeaking noise against her leather vest.
“What?”
“Wait, and an answer will be provided to you,” she says with finality.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Wait? Waiting seemed like the last thing I should do with Zhuang’s impending invasion, Chase lurking in the corner of all of my dream travels, and my long-lost father making ridiculous efforts to repair a defunct relationship. However, wait is exactly what I did. Slowly the hours dissolved into long days and then rather quickly they accumulated into a week. The threat of Zhuang was always in the air. It was the edge at the back of everyone’s throat, the reason so many words came out terse. It was the tension that rippled through the main hall, causing cautionary glances over shoulders every time a resident who could be Zhuang entered for a meal. I was proud that no one had fled the Institute. They might have all been victims of fear, but they were willing ones.