Oculus (Oculus #1) (24 page)

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Authors: J. L. Mac,L. G. Pace III

BOOK: Oculus (Oculus #1)
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I
CAN’T DESCRIBE IT. I
can’t explain it. I can’t even understand it. My dreams have always been so vivid with colors and objects that I could never truly understand. I simply made assumptions and best guesses while doing my best to shake the feeling that I knew quite well what I had been seeing all those years. I knew that what resided behind my eyes, in my mind, were memories of things that at some point or another were very real for me.

I had seen them. Too afraid to admit this to myself, I shut down speculation that brewed deep within. I chalked up my dreams to imagination. I dismissed my dreams as insanity before I would ever entertain the idea that I had once had, and then lost, one of the most basic and fundamental parts of me. Vision.

Despite the throbbing headache from what my father’s device did to me, I am overwhelmed with feelings.

What was that thing? Why do my eyes feel tingly?
How is this possible? Why am I not blind anymore? If my father had the tools to reverse my condition, why in the hell has he kept it a secret hidden in a box stowed under a dusty floorboard in his fucking closet?

Anger wins out over the mix of elation and confusion and relief. Uninhibited rage against my father sinks its claws in deep and climbs up my throat like the demon that it is, and I feel as though I could very well choke on it. Or… choke someone else.

My lips part, but the cascade of questions and feelings won’t pour. “Sic. I can see,” is all I can manage and I think it has rendered my phantom truly confused. And exposed.

My once useless eyes burn and tingle and they feel really dry, but I take my time eyeing the man in front of me and what a man he is.

Sic jumps to his feet and firmly cups my face in his big hands. I wrap my fingers around both his wrists as he studies me with concern etched across his face. His brows furrow. His eyes intense. His jaw tight. Lips press into a thin line.

“Does it hurt? Does anything hurt?” he asks in a hurry and moves his fingers to press against the artery in my neck. His thumbs pull gently against my lower eyelids and I watch as his piercing eyes evaluate me. “Would you say something? You have to answer me. You’re pale. Sit,” he demands as he all but forces me to the edge of my bed.

“Sic, I can see,” I repeat, still waging war with rage and confusion and elation.

“Yes you’ve said that, but, Iris, are you hurt?” He asks me coaxingly like I’m simple minded and it snaps me out of my daze long enough to send a glare in his direction.

“You’re okay,” he announces while swallowing down the smirk that I swear I saw.
I saw!

“Why did he hide this from me?”

“He had to have had very good reason.” Sic looks me over then steps back and begins pacing the floor. He’s better than my dreams. He’s more handsome than I could have ever dreamed and he’s mine.

“Sic,” I whisper, causing him to halt in his tracks and face me. I bring myself to stand in front of him and I make my dreams come true.

His scar against my palm. His body inches from mine. The air between us is electric. Sic slips his arms around my waist and pulls me forward, closing the gap between us.

“Sure?” he asks with his brows slightly raised. I appreciate his thoughtfulness following everything I’ve been through and my close encounter with Ingram and the atrocities he was very close to forcing upon me, but Ingram is exactly why I want Sic right now. I need him to mark me, to claim me as his, to fill the space from the last bad thing that happened to me and the next good thing that will happen. I want him to transport me from one point to another where hopefully all memories of what nearly happened will be dulled by the steady strong Dark Lander that is somehow my destiny.

My mouth covers his and I allow my lips to offer up the best answer I can. Sic groans as he answers my call with as much passion or more than I’ve experienced from him yet. My lips part for him. Without hesitation he indulges in me and I in him. His tongue slips past mine luxuriously slow. Our breath mingles. My body is lit up with need. His hands move up my back to cradle my face. Without preamble Sic hoists me up, prompting me to wrap my legs around his hips.

In my dreams of him, he’s always been agile and quick and right now in this moment I’m glad he’s still agile, but it seems that he can turn his tendency to work quickly off, because he takes his time roaming my body with his lips, his tongue, his fingertips…

I watch with amazement as he puts on a visual show that brings all my senses to attention. His crystal gaze watches me closely. He’s doing this on purpose. He wants me to see him. It’s difficult not to gasp when he slips his pants down his muscular legs, allowing me to revel at the image of him.

His cheeks change color and it’s the very first time I behold what someone blushing must look like.

“I’m sorry,” I offer, feeling like I’ve made him uncomfortable with my ogling, my studying.

“Don’t be,” he whispers as he plants one knee on my bed and undresses me. I find my eyes studying both of our bodies in amazement. With my heart hammering out of control in my chest, I find the courage to expose myself to him. With my knees parted and my body bared to him, he settles himself between my trembling thighs.

“Watch,” he commands and I don’t think I could disobey even if I wanted to. I watch closely as he nestles the rigid length of himself at my center. My body submits to his as he eases himself into me. Sic grips one of my thighs in his hand, forcing my leg higher on his waist as he braces his weight on his other hand pressed into the mattress. I hold on tightly as he drives deep, propelling both of us toward bliss.

“Sic,”

“Hmm?” he muffles against my chest half asleep. My fingers sift lazily through his hair. He likes this. I like it too. It’s so contradictory to who he is; what I know he’s capable of for him to be relaxed and lulled to sleep by me running my fingers through his hair. I’d be lying to myself if I said it didn’t make me feel like a very powerful female at this moment. The idea that with his cheek pressed to my bare chest and my fingers laced in his hair, a man like him is pliable and subdued because of me.
Me
.

“I need to go see my dad.”

“Mm,” he breathes and somehow his weight on top of me feels a bit heavier as if he would much rather I stay put.

“I have to see how he’s doing. I want to look at him. I want to see Hattie too. I want to see everything,” I mumble, looking around my dimly lit bedroom, still marveling at the fact that I can see and furious that I have gone all this time thinking that there was no help for my impairment. “I can see,” I whisper aloud still in disbelief.

“You used to see. Don’t you remember?”

“Sic, I was born blind. My dad—”

“And you believe him?”

“I—” Unsure of what to say to that, I let out a breath of resignation.

“Listen to me. I don’t know why and I don’t know how but I remember you. I remember them bringing you to visit me. I remember you carrying a book with you. I remember your dad. I don’t know why you can’t remember but I do.”

“It’s not possible.”

“Trust me when I say that anything is possible. You don’t know what these Corps are capable of.”

“What happened?”

“With what?”

“Everything.” Sic sighs and sits up, bracing his weight on one elbow. Looking me in the eyes, I’m taken aback by the sense that my life is about to get a lot more complicated.

“I spent most of my time at Talpa looking forward to seeing you,” Sic traced a finger along the skin of my arm, raising goosebumps on my skin and sending shivers of pleasure racing across the surface. “Do you have any idea what it’s like out there?”

“Rumors mostly.”

“It’s savage like they say but not because people outside these compounds are reckless criminals who enjoy murdering and raping and maiming. They resist and that’s what makes them Dark Landers. That’s what makes them an inconvenient lot to The Corps. They want the liberties and freedoms from the old world. They want rights to make their own way and as long as The Corps keep a stronghold on resources there will always be fighting. They control everything and it has to stop.”

“What do you mean they control everything?”

“Just that. Food, medicine, technology, electricity. All of it. Unless you are willing to sell your life to one of The Corps and reside within a walled lab cage, you are exiled to the Dark Lands where The Corps spend excessive time and effort to make it as inhospitable as possible.”

“Why?”

“Why not? When the flare happened, they were prepared. They had contingency plans and that made them the most powerful entities on the planet, particularly because they have an endless amount of slaves working under this rouse that they are the lucky ones.”

“We are fortunate,” I offer feebly.

“No. You aren’t. None of The Corp employees are fortunate. You are all slaves and you don’t even know it. It’s impressive really.”

“What would happen if The Corps went under. What if people fought back against them?”

“I really don’t know. But what I do know is that spreading disease to which the only antidote is dispensed by The Corp is wrong. And there’s no excuse for children in the Dark Lands dying because they get sick and no one can get them medical help. There’s no excuse for things being the way they are.”

“You fight back?”

“I do.”

“Why?”

“I was designed to fight. So were you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Talpa Corp made both of us. I am a weapon—a physical weapon. You, well, I don’t know what they meant for you to do, but I think your dad would know.”

“Sic, I’m no weapon. I’m a woman!”

“So was Joan of Arc and Cleopatra.”

“Who?”

“I’ll tell you all about it when we leave the compound. But for now, you need to go get more information from your dad.”

“We can’t leave.”

“Well we can’t stay.”

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