Captivated (Talented Saga #3.5) (8 page)

“Do we know whether he’s divulged
her whereabouts?” Crane asked. His tone was all business, but his
dark eyes were sympathetic when he glanced at Talia.

“Erik would never do that,” Talia said
defiantly.

Again, my name on her lips was
almost too much. The air in my cell seemed to thin, making it hard
to catch my breath. Longing to see her in the flesh, to touch her
smooth skin, nearly pulled me out of the vision. But I didn’t care
whether the visions were real or not, being able to see her like
this was what kept me going and I wasn’t ready to break the
connection.

“No, of course not,” Penny said
quickly. “But the drugs they are giving him are supposed to make
him suggestible.”

Talia’s eyes narrowed to slits,
all of the color drained from her face. “What drugs are they giving
him?”

No one answered her. Impatiently,
she repeated her question.

“The creation drug most likely,”
Crane finally said, heaving a huge sigh. “They are likely giving
him a version of the creation drug with a viewing talent signature
so that they can use him to track you. Given the fact that you two
are so close, it would be easy for him to see you.”

The look of horror and disgust on
Talia’s face after hearing Crane’s declaration matched my own. She
doubled over, clutching her stomach, and I worried she was about to
be sick. Then I worried I was about to be sick.

I rolled on to my side,
dry-heaving over the side of the bed.
This
isn’t real, this isn’t real,
I chanted
over and over again in my head.
Please
don’t let this be real.

These visions weren’t
hallucinations at all. Talia was actually sitting in a room, in a
home on the beach, with Crane, Penny, and Brand – whoever he was.
Penny was alive. Talia had gone to Crane for help – help rescuing
me.

“I don’t care what they do him,
Erik will not break.” Talia’s voice pulled me back to the room.
With my eyes open, I saw the scene with Talia and Crane, but
instead of the crystal clear view I had moments before, now my cell
was bleeding into the image. I saw them both at the same time, like
two pictures overlaid one on top of the other. It made my head
hurt.

Talia and the room began to fade
as my cell became the dominant image. I wanted to scream, cry out
to her that I was okay and would never betray her. That would have
been pointless, though. Even if the visions were real, I was merely
an observer; I could hear them, see them, but not the other way
around, like a one-way mirror.

The cell door creaked open, bright
white light illuminated the ancient stone wall, and Talia was gone.
A guard, Rigsby, stepped inside. Rigsby was one of the better ones;
he always brought beef jerky and cheese to go along with the stale
bread. And he was the only guard who didn’t serve me dirty
water.

“You have a visitor, Kelley,”
Rigsby said in a gruff voice. His tone caused my muscles to tense
and my adrenaline to spike.

“Who is it?” I asked, my own voice sounded scratchy
from lack of use.

“Mr. McDonough.”

My hackles were up as I swung my
legs over the side of the mattress. The Director hadn’t paid me a
personal visit in my cell since my first day at Tramblewood, and
the encounter hadn’t been pleasant. The pain that shot through my
knee made me wince, but I gritted my teeth and stood
anyway.

Rigsby stepped farther into the
cell, allowing
Mr. McDonough
enough space to squeeze in behind him. To my
utter astonishment, Mr. McDonough was Donavon. He was dressed in a
dark business suit and tie, a younger version of his
father.

“Thanks, Rigsby, you can wait
outside,” Donavon said in a low voice. He kept his eyes on me while
he spoke.

“Are you sure, sir? We’ve had some
trouble with, um, the prisoner,” Rigsby said, shifting
uncomfortably from one foot to the other. His unease was for me,
not Donavon. In my weakened condition, he feared I would not be
able to defend myself if Donavon decided to take out years of
hatred and animosity on my face.

“Kelley and I will be just fine,” Donavon cracked
his knuckles, “won’t we, Erik?”

Hysterical laughter bubbled up in
my throat. Donavon was trying to intimidate me, really? After
everything his father had done to me, Donavon was the least of my
worries. Besides, I could hold my own if push came to shove; the
fight wasn’t out of me yet.

“Sure, you can go,” I told Rigsby.

Rigsby hesitated a moment longer
before backpedaling into the hallway. “I’ll be right outside if you
need me,” he said.

Once we were alone, Donavon and I
sized each other up. Neither of us wanted to be the first to break
the silence. For my part, I had nothing to say. Mostly I felt sorry
for Donavon, he’d been through a lot in the past couple of years.
And as much as I hated to admit it, what he’d done for Alex gave me
a smidgen of respect for him.

While I contemplated the reason
for his visit, Donavon crossed the tiny cell in three long strides,
catching me surprise with his quick movements. Suddenly we were
standing nose to nose. The proximity made me want to back up, but I
had nowhere to go. Donavon grabbed my shoulder and searched my face
with an intensity that unnerved me.

“Can you hear me?”
his voice asked inside my head. His eyes grew
wider as he concentrated harder, the orbs nearly popping out of his
face.

Once again I felt the need to back
away. Donavon’s fingers were digging into bruised flesh, but I kept
my expression blank and stood my ground.

“Yeah, I hear you,”
I sent back warily. This type of mental
communication was too intimate to share with Donavon. I didn’t want
to see into his head.

“Is Alex safe? Can you see him? Is
he still with Talia? Pretend his hurts.”

Donavon drew his free hand back,
made a fist, and drilled it into my stomach. Only when he actually
made contact, his knuckles barely touched my dirty shirt. The jab
had come so quickly that his words didn’t register in time for me
to react.

“Jesus, Kelley, how much of that drug have they
given you?”

Donavon pushed me backwards, the
backs of my knees hit the wire frame of the bed, and involuntarily
I sat. The whole encounter was surreal, like the visions of Talia,
and I had to pinch my arm to make sure this was actually
happening.

“Erik!”
Donavon sent.
“Focus. Is Alex
safe?”

I nodded stupidly. At the mention
of Alex, I instantly saw him in my mind. He sat in a man’s lap, a
man I knew well. My father. They were on a blue couch in the same
tidy living room where I’d seen Talia become the wolf.

“Is he with Talia?”

I shook my head no.

“Do you know where Talia is?”

“Sort of,”
I replied, no more eager to share my crazy theory that she
was with Ian Crane and the not-dead Penny with Donavon than I was
to share it with his father.

“Don’t think about her. When they
take you to see Dr. Wythe, don’t think about Talia or Alex or
whoever else they are with. Do you understand?”

Through the mental connection, his
tone suggested he was talking to a child or someone slow in the
head. He probably thought I was slow in the head, my sluggish
reaction time and confused expression probably supported the
theory.

“I get it,”
I sent.

Donavon straightened, smoothed his suit, and fixed
his tie, which had gone askew when he half-assed punched me.

“How are you doing this?”
I asked suspiciously.

“Doing what?”
Now Donavon was the one confused.

“This,”
I
tapped my temple to indicate the mental communication.

“I’m not. You are.”
When I just gaped by way of response, Donavon
continued.
“The creation drugs you were
injected with have Talia’s talent signature in them. Until they
wear off, if they wear off, you will have all the same capabilities
that she does. They have also given you viewing Talents. The
Director thinks he will be able to use you to view
Talia.”

Donavon’s admission shouldn’t have
surprised me, not after hearing Crane say the same. But Donavon’s
words confirmed that my visions weren’t hallucinations, Talia was
with Ian Crane, Penny was alive, and the Coalition was coming to
rescue me.

“The Director says you are either
an extremely proficient blocker or your brain is fried from all the
chemicals. I have a feeling I know which. Don’t let Talia down, and
keep it up.”

With those parting threats,
Donavon reached into his suit pocked, withdrew a wadded up napkin,
tossed it on to the mattress beside me, and headed for the door. I
waited until the locks clicked into place before opening the
napkin. Inside were a handful of cheese cubes and dried
fruit.

“Hey, jackass, couldn’t have
brought me a key or a weapon?”
I sent,
unsure how far he’d gotten and whether he would be able to hear
me.

Several seconds later, he
replied.
“Wouldn’t do you any good. You
wouldn’t make it to the end of the hallway in your condition. I’m
sorry, Erik,”
he added after a
pause.

Words I never thought I’d hear
from Donavon McDonough, they made me smile. His apology meant
nothing to me, but his visit gave me hope. The visions of Talia
were real, and in two days she was coming for me. All I had to do
was hold on to my sanity for a little longer. Donavon had said not
to think about her when I was with Dr. Wythe. Fine, I could do
that. But as long as I was alone, I couldn’t resist the urge to see
her again. Particularly now that I knew the visions were
real.

I lied down, closed my eyes, and
went to her. This time it was easy to find her. Talia was curled up
on a twin-sized bed, hair splayed across the pillow, and she was
asleep. I should have slept, too. But I didn’t, I watched her
instead.

As usual, thank you to my friends
and family for all of your support. A big thank you to Hannah for
her never-ending support and help promoting the Talented Series,
without her none of this would be possible. Thank you to all of the
readers who have joined me on Talia’s journey.

For more information on
Sophie Davis and the
Talented
Saga
, visit Sophie’s website,
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