Code

CHAPTER 40

VOICES INTRUDED FROM far away.

“Oh man, she really did it this time!”

“Should we call the nurse?” Panicky. “An ambulance?”

“And say what, exactly?” hissed a third. “That our friend passed out after some bad telepathy?”

The words were distant. Thin. Like radio transmissions from an old submarine. I tried to block them, to stay wrapped in murky oblivion.

The voices wouldn’t let me.

“What was she thinking?” Angry. Disturbing my blissful drift.

Ben. Why’s he so upset?

“She went too far!” Fretful. Shelton? “What if she couldn’t get back?”

Against my will, one eye cracked open. Three silhouettes hovered over me, backlit by brilliant white light. For a crazy moment I thought of heaven.

That notion jarred me awake.

I moaned weakly.

“She’s coming around!” The roundest shape coalesced into Hi. “Tor? You okay? If you’ve gone vegetable, blink at me.”

“Real nice,” I wheezed. The effort nearly put me back under.

“Help her sit.” Shelton still sounded anxious. “Ben, get some water.”

As Ben ran off, Hi and Shelton pulled me to a seated position. My head pounded. I was very close to puking in my own lap.

Gingerly, I surveyed my surroundings. Bolton Prep. Outside. East lawn, just off the main entrance.

I licked my lips. “Time?”

“Lunch is almost over.” Hi was scanning for observers. “You’ve been out two full minutes.”

Unsure how to help, Shelton nervously patted my arm. “What happened?”

“Flared. Tried to read minds.” I was too shell-shocked to lie.

“Chance and Madison?” Shelton grabbed both earlobes. “Are you crazy!?”

“Maybe.” I leaned to the side, hawked, spat. “Didn’t work.”

“So that’s why Madison wigged out.” Shelton began pacing. “She jetted inside a second after you dropped.”

Hi was rubbing his forehead. “Tell me they didn’t catch you.”

“Not sure.” I staggered upright. Wiped spittle from my cheek. “Don’t think so.”

I replayed the moment my consciousness touched the bubble. I’d known it was Madison, not Chance. Was certain. For a nanosecond I’d recognized her thoughts, though I hadn’t understood them.

Had Madison felt something on her end? Did she sense it was me poking around?

How could I be so stupid?

“How could you be so stupid?”

Ben unsealed a bottled water and held it to my lips. I gulped, swished a mouthful, then spat on the grass.

I agreed with Ben, but would never admit it now.

“They were saying things. About me.” My brain was still slightly derailed. “They suspect. I was trying to find out what they know.”

“Not cool.” Surprisingly, it was Hi who said it. “Breaking into their minds? That’s going way too far.”

“Didn’t work.” Though my pride wouldn’t let me simply agree, I was ashamed of my impulsive decision. The intensity of the last few days was warping my judgment.

The bell rang. The trio examined me, appraising my condition.

“I’m fine.” No way they’d decide what was best for me. “Just help me to class.”

My eyes wouldn’t focus. Golf balls rattled inside my skull. My stomach writhed like a shaken Coke. But I was determined to avoid more attention.

You did this to yourself. Take your punishment.

Wobbly, I allowed the boys to shepherd me through the front doors.

It was going to be a long afternoon.

Trudging up my front steps, I thanked every deity I could name. I’d survived. My bed was mere seconds away.

I hadn’t fully processed the incident with Madison. Keeping upright in class had required all my energy. But standing outside my home, fumbling for keys, I finally reflected on what happened.

Why had my telepathy failed? Because I’d reached outside the pack? Because the boys hadn’t been flaring? Because Coop wasn’t there?

My splitting headache proved the experiment had been dangerous.

Had I learned my lesson? Probably not.

If anything, I was even more curious about what my powers could do.

Flashbulb images strobed in my head. Darkness on the golf course. A thin, gleaming wire. Myself, seen through Coop’s eyes.

Was that what I’d been hoping for? To sneak inside my enemies’ minds?

A sour feeling clenched my gut. So blatantly wrong.

But I had touched Madison’s thoughts, if only for a moment. It was possible.

Then some force had repelled my probing, KO’ing me in the process. Since I didn’t understand how I’d made contact, how could I guess why things went sideways?

Problems for another time.

Right then, a nap topped my agenda.

Which made Whitney’s presence so incredibly cruel.

“There you are, sugar!” Practically dancing across the carpet in her lavender ballet flats. “You’ll never guess what I have!”

“What?” Choking back tears. It was sleepy time. I glared at Cooper snoozing in his doggie bed. Thanks for the warning, mutt.

Whitney swept a hand toward a long white box on the dining room table.

“Your gown is finally ready.” As if its status was of national importance. “At long last. I can’t wait to see it on!”

Blargh.

I’d forgotten about the damn dress.

Whitney had nattered on about it for weeks, casually reminding Kit and me that it was expensive, trendy, and very hard to find. Her boutique BFF had resisted the idea of alterations—the dress being a loaner—but Whitney had insisted. The woman is a world-class insister.

So there it was.

And I couldn’t have cared less.

“Let’s try it on later.” I opted for manipulation over defiance. “I’m exhausted from school, and won’t do the dress justice. After dinner we can make a show of it.”

Whitney’s smile nearly dislocated her jaw. “What a fabulous idea!”

Banging. Loud.

“Tory!” Kit yelled through my door. “It’s past seven. Time to eat.” “Wha happa cha?” My thoughts were scrambled by dark dreams of snapping jaws and watching eyes.

“Dinner. Whitney says you two have a surprise planned?”

The lingering nightmare was replaced by a waking one.

I had zero interest in parading for my father’s girlfriend.

FML. “Coming.”

I trudged to the bathroom, scrubbed my teeth, then plodded downstairs. Whitney and Kit were at the table, spooning salad into bowls.

“There’s our princess!” Whitney virtually bounced in her chair. “Are you excited? Think you’ll sleep tonight? I didn’t get a wink for two days before my debut!”

“Hope so.” Diplomatic. I might not sleep later, but not because of any stupid ball. “Where’s Coop?”

“Enjoying a rawhide thingy in the guest room,” Whitney said. “He’ll be fine there until after the fashion show.”

Kit aimed his fork at me. “Hudson stopped by my office this morning.”

“Oh?”

“Something about you and Ben, sneaking around in Building Six?”

Whitney adopted a posture of extreme disapproval.

“There was nothing funny going on—” I shot a look at Whitney, who dropped her eyes, “—so don’t even ask. We were using a computer terminal when that creep Iglehart busted through the door and started chewing us out.”

“So I heard.” Was Kit suppressing a smile? No. Of course not. “Why didn’t you sign in with security like you’re supposed to? Or ask me for network access? And, while we’re at it, why’d you need a LIRI workstation in the first place?”

“Same project.” I was mildly disturbed at how easily the lies came. “We needed to search a few online journals, and you know LIRI has free access to a kajillion of them. Check the logs if you don’t believe me.”

Please don’t. Please please don’t.

“Fine, fine.” Kit began spooning green beans onto his plate. “But you have to sign the log, if only to spare me from more meetings with Hudson.”

“Will do. Sorry.” I was relieved Kit hadn’t probed further, or thought to ask how we gained access to the system. “Hudson’s the main reason we don’t bother.”

“A young lady shouldn’t place herself alone with a boy.” Whitney put a hand to her breast. “Innocent though it may be, such behavior can lead to unseemly rumors.”

Having dodged a sticky issue, I chose not to engage.

I felt guilty about lying. After all, LIRI was Kit’s domain. He might even know who’d registered the snare guns. But I couldn’t see a way to bring it up without revealing our struggle against the Gamemaster.

Too much was at stake. There might be people at LIRI we couldn’t trust. For all I knew, the Gamemaster worked there. Until we knew more, it was best to play it safe.

Plus, being honest, Kit isn’t great with secrets. He’s the trusting sort, while I’m far from it. Bottom line: I trust my instincts over his.

“Time for the main course.” Whitney doled out thick slices of lasagna to herself and Kit. My portion was noticeably smaller. “Can’t have you overfilling your gown.” She actually winked.

I considered running away. Joining a traveling circus. I had a savings account, and a tiny trust fund courtesy of Aunt Tempe. I could probably get as far as Singapore before anyone noticed. I’m very resourceful.

But then the Gamemaster would win, and the price of failure might be too terrible to contemplate. My own family had been threatened.

I had no choice but to keep playing. Hope my instincts were correct.

Hope I could locate the threat in time.

Hope I didn’t humiliate myself in the process. Or murder Whitney.

Suppressing a sigh, I shoved my plate aside. “All right. Let’s try this thing on.”

Whitney’s squeal grated like a skinned knee.