Revived (The Lucidites Book 3) (17 page)

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

“H
ow 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

W
ait?
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.

Every day Zhuang didn’t thunder through the hallways and blast us all to smithereens heightened the stress. One might think I’d be relieved that I was given another day to live, but as each one passed the doom mounted higher and higher. The fear of Day Z, as we were calling it, was three hundred times worse because it hung overhead with the ever-growing weight of my stress.

The enjoyable moments that I allowed myself to have, when I wasn’t looking over my shoulder and listening for the sirens, were riddled with odd feelings. It sometimes felt strange to laugh, like that was the cue for Zhuang to end us all. Nothing at this point was pleasurable. Fruit tasted like mushy sweetness. Hot showers were just warm water splashing against the surface of my body. George’s lips were just lips that I used to comfort me, but still too often left me feeling empty.

Things between George and me were easy and for that I was grateful. He was always there when I needed company and when I wanted to be left alone, he was absent. I never had to explain myself to him, and that was the best gift that he gave me. Most evenings we spent lying in my room or discussing literature or philosophy. The conversations were often deep, but rarely stimulating. I mostly had them because they passed the time and I liked the way he’d look at me when he didn’t think I was paying attention.

Having George’s affection felt good. I’d never been in a relationship, and for that matter I’d hardly had many friendships. The closer we became, the more I wanted what he gave me; however, there was a catch. This little catch made my heart ache every time George said something so ridiculously sweet and looked at me for reciprocation. What made all this worse is my heart told me to enter into this relationship and oddly my heart wasn’t totally in it. I now could see how good it felt to be loved and adored by someone—committed to that love. It was a brand new satisfaction. One I couldn’t believe I’d waited so long to experience. But the awful catch was that most of the time I didn’t want it from George.

My whole being was poisoned by the emotional modifier. When I was with George I wished I felt the same draw I had to Chase. So badly did I want to be in love with George like that. The meditations and shielding helped, but still when everything was quiet and I wasn’t concentrating I felt Chase penetrating into my heart and forcing me to love him. Half the time his efforts worked and I’d ache because I couldn’t have him and also because I knew wanting him was wrong. I hadn’t dream traveled since the last time I saw him. Patiently I waited, like Shuman had directed, hoping that soon a way would be provided that helped me combat Chase’s powers. Each night I spent allowing confusing dreams of Chase to rip across my subconscious. Usually, I awoke multiple times throughout the night screaming with my bed covers twisted absurdly around my sweat-drenched body.

The days had actually become mundane. I’d eat, run, shower, eat, news report, eat, and hang out with George. My runs were still the highlight to every day, but without music they lost the same pleasure they had before. I’d put the iPod in a box, within a box, within a box in my closet and refused to listen to any music. Aiden, who had given me the iPod, was a part of a different life, one I was trying to forget I ever had. Music would certainly remind me of that old life and a whole host of emotions that I’d shoved down to the recesses of my soul.

Every time I ran, it burned my side where the gunshot wound was almost healed. Still, the clarity I received while running was worth it. I didn’t get a runner’s high from the experience as much as a runner’s release. I was freed from worries and uncertainties and all the guilt I kept layering on my heart. When I ran, all my thoughts were sucked into a vacuum and for that one hour I was unrestricted by them. To meditate on nothingness was pure bliss.

The saddest moment of every day was when I rounded out the last mile. Mae had asked me to keep it to under five miles. As soon as my legs slowed, my thoughts filtered back in, until they swarmed inside my head like angry wasps. And what always followed my run was half the reason I needed the one hour of meditation.

For five days straight Trey had pretended to be crossing my path when I left the workout facility. I knew I could alter my routine and avoid him a time or two, until he figured out my new schedule, but I wasn’t willing to do that. Maybe falsely, I equate my strength with my predictable routine. I’m not just a creature of habit. It’s embedded in my DNA and changing it would be like forcing a lion to eat green beans for the rest of its life. It’s just not going to happen.