Through the Static (7 page)

“I am.”

God, but he was.

And he hadn't been.

He never had.

He fell.

In a singular, crystalline second, her mind unfolded in front of him into an infinite array of thought. The sheer exhilaration of it dizzied him as his vision narrowed, his being subsumed by the rush of synapses opening, her entire personhood laid out for him.

He was just as bare, just as naked before her.

As his hips drew back, he swore it was more than their link. That it was the meshing of souls.

And he'd doubted he'd had one for so long…

Over and over again, he fell into her, into her sex and into her mind, and with each thrust he got closer, until there was only the precipice, the cliff upon which he stood, poised about to truly
touch
her.

He hovered, opened his eyes and stared into hers.

She grasped to him more tightly, wrapped arms and legs around his body, then threw her head back, screaming and pulsing and forcing a pleasure too hot to contain into his bones.

In a surge that turned him inside out, burnt his body and mind to ash, he emptied himself into her.

And as he did so, it was to the concert of her scream. It was to her calling out a name he'd never heard.

His
name.

Chapter Eight

Jack
. It was such a simple name.

Aurelia didn't know exactly what she'd expected, but as the most intense climax of her life had swept over her, the shape of the sound had come to her lips. She'd been so immersed in his mind, so filled with his body. Careening through the shadowy, crumbling pieces of his memory, she'd anchored onto one locus of identity and pulled it with her as she'd risen through the endlessness of existence, only to surface, gasping, shaking with a pleasure that consumed her, screaming that one word.

She clung to him with arms and legs, staring up into the sky and inward across a landscape of thought that spread out in all directions, as overwhelming as the physical high of coupling. Slowly, her breathing evened out, the spasms between her legs subsiding into a low glow of satisfaction. The seamless melding of their minds receded too, narrowing with every inhale and exhale from something infinite to a single doorway. A manageable conduit of measured thoughts and impressions.

It was a relief. And yet somehow, the instant that perfect union was lost, she missed it.

As the connection reverted, the strength in Jinx's limbs seemed to fade with it, and with a low groan and a shudder, he collapsed onto her, letting her feel the full weight of him for just a fraction of a second before rolling. She loosened her grip, let him slide from her body to lie on the grass on his back beside her, their arms touching. In the silent moments that followed, she sought out his hand with hers. He intertwined their fingers without hesitation. It wasn't the all-encompassing fever of lovemaking, but the contact still grounded her. Their tether was a warm hum, a soft sensation of presence. It felt more solid than it had before. It felt good.

He sucked in a deep breath, and the grass beneath him rustled. She turned her head, letting her gaze drift from the brightness of the sky to the dark of his wide, wide eyes.

His voice was a shuddering rasp. “What. Was. That.”

The laugh bubbled up from the very deepest part of her, a joyful noise that matched the innocence in this big, powerful man's words and thoughts. Holding tightly to his hand, she shifted to lie on her side and brought her other arm up, wincing at the low ache in her shoulder but pushing past it to press her palm to his cheek.

“That, Jinx, was a
link
.”

Because of course he wouldn't have known. After years of being subjugated to another mind, bent to meet its will through force, he would never have experienced the pure joy of a connection forged between two partners, built with openness and care.

With love.

She closed the door on that thought as quickly as she had opened it. Her smile faltered, and his gaze flickered to where the edges of her mouth turned down. His brows furrowed slightly, and she stroked his cheek, leaning in to press a soft, closed-mouth kiss against his lips. He returned it with warm pressure. As she pulled away, he lifted his hand and slid his fingers through her hair.

Then his eyes darted sharply to hers, his thoughts echoing what she'd said.

“You called me another name,” he said slowly. “Before.”

She stiffened and nodded. “I did.”

“It was my name.”

“I think it was.”

He gazed at her for the longest time. While he was outwardly still, in his mind, memories swirled and faded, shadows moving in and amongst a ruined landscape of half-images, burned and black. They hurt to look at in their incompleteness, but if he felt the same pain he didn't show it.

The slow parade of lost pasts faded away, and his whole face softened, the tenderness in his eyes disarming. He reached up a hand to cup her cheek. The kiss this time was all gentleness, the contact colored by an affection that was nearly overwhelming as he showed her that even these broken shards of memory were new. That she had given them to him.

“Thank you.” He pressed his lips to hers once more, then to her nose and to her brow. “Thank you.”

His thoughts radiating gratitude, he let go of her and moved to sit. They were quiet as he pulled his clothes back on and helped her into hers, taking that same care with her injuries that he had as they'd joined together, eyes still full of concern as he ran his fingertips along the edge of the bandage at her shoulder.

“I wish I could do more,” he said, voice gruff. With his eyes, he apologized for her lingering pain, and with his lips, he kissed tender skin. He covered her up, then held out a hand and helped her stand. Once she was on her feet, he reached down and picked up her weapon, looking between it and her for a second before he seemed to come to a decision in his mind.

His hand was steady as he held the pistol out to her.

She took it, silently acknowledging that he was giving her much more than just the gun. She tucked it into the waistband of her pants and then slid her hand back into his.

As they stood together in the center of the clearing, he glanced up, showing her his calculations as he measured the sun's angle in the sky and compared it with his chronometer. He looked down at her. “We need to get moving. And we'll need a new transport.”

She swallowed hard. “I know.”

It brought them back to the same question of where to go and what came next. There were her injuries, of course, but more pressing were his, invisible as they were. She still needed to get him someplace where she could open his head up and patch the places in his mind where she'd torn him loose. She needed to complete the sever.

She needed to set him free.

Because after everything, there was no way she was letting him go back to his Three now. Not after learning the touch of his hands on her body and the depths of his humanity. Not after learning
him
.

No, what she needed to do hadn't changed. But what she was willing to do to accomplish it had. Squeezing his hand, she took one step forward, striking off in a direction she'd once hoped she'd never have to go.

He held her back, grasping her palm. “Where are we going?”

Turning to face him, she lifted her chin, gazing deep into his eyes as she strengthened her resolve. She trusted him. It would probably come back to bite her, but by God, she did.

Her voice was level as she told him, “We're going to my safe house.”

Jinx could hardly believe how easy it was to be with Aurelia now. Even without the complete intimacy of being buried in her, body and mind, there was a warm glow to their connection, a level of understanding he'd never felt with Curse and Charm, no matter how complete the flow of information had been. He wasn't exposed with her. Instead, he was known.

They'd been walking for a couple of hours in companionable silence, following a winding path through woods and fields. While he was worried about the pace they were setting, given her condition, he didn't know what to do except drive on. He made her eat and made her rest, but mostly they just went. The trees were thinning now, the hum of electrical life picking up—all signs they were getting closer to the edge of the city, which was a relief. She hadn't revealed to him yet the exact location of her safe house, but he had a sense it was close.

He was still floored she was willing to take him there. She'd tried to hide her hesitance about it back in the car, but he'd picked up on it. This was a big risk for her, considering who he was. She trusted him now. And he trusted her. He had to. And he wanted to.

As they came to the asphalt scar of a road, she slowed, tugging on his arm to bring them to a halt. With her other hand, she reached up to pull her hair off her neck. He helped her, gathering the matted strands.

He longed to bathe her. To wash the woods and blood from her skin and to tease the tangles from her locks. They'd be so beautiful, silken and shining and clean.

Her cheeks rose with her shy smile. “Later.”

The promise awoke his arousal, as well as something else. Something deeper, a tender place inside him that longed to simply care for her. Something new.

Her quiet voice interrupted the thoughts he didn't understand, bringing him back to the here and now. “Help me?”

She showed him in her mind what she needed him to do. Echoing what he saw there, he let go of her hair and her hand and ran a fingertip along the length of chain around her neck. He unclasped it, holding the loose ends as he eased it from her skin. He'd seen the locket before, of course—had ignored the way it hung between her naked breasts as he'd tried to keep himself under control while stitching her up, and appreciated the same as she'd lain beneath him in the clearing. It was nondescript, unremarkable. But clearly important.

She held out her hand and he lowered it to pool there in the cup of her palm.

“It's an EMP weapon.”

He let go of it as if it had been on fire.

He'd heard of those before, had heard of the Three that had been felled by just one of them. The bloom of electricity that severed circuitry and nerves. It was the kind of weapon that could lay him dead on the forest floor.

She laughed and closed her fingers over it. “Don't worry. I already used up the main charge. It's only got a tiny residual left, if anything at all. Hopefully just enough to erase our trail.” Pointing at the other side of the road, she smiled. “Go on.”

In her mind, he saw himself at a safe distance, among the sparser trees and detritus past the asphalt line. His hand was already twitching from a second of not touching her. He brushed her elbow with his knuckles. “I don't want to leave you alone.”

“Just for a minute.”

He glanced at her head and frowned. “But your circuitry—”

“I'll be fine.” She tapped her temple. “Dampeners.”

He whistled. Those kinds of modifications weren't cheap. He'd known there was more to her than was apparent on the surface, but she was constantly surprising him with her strength, her resourcefulness. He leaned in and kissed her lips. “All right.”

“If I—” She stopped midsentence, looking up at him with doleful eyes and guarded thoughts. “You may not be able to hear me. Just for a second. But I'll still be here. I promise.”

The very idea of it was a lick of pain, a tightening in his ribs. The shadow of a thought behind her thoughts, the intimation of something she was hiding from him did nothing to set him at ease. All the same, he managed to keep his expression neutral. She knew what she was doing. He leaned in to kiss her brow. “I trust you.”

He did. To keep him safe, both from the weapon and from the silence he knew could bring him to his knees.

After one more soft caress of his fingertips along the side of her face, he forced himself to pull away. He scanned the perimeter beyond the tree line, then moved quickly across the road and well into the cover beyond.

She stood still as stone there at the threshold, her lips alone moving. She held her closed fist with the locket in the air in front of her, and even through the distance, her mind and eyes connected with his.

And then her digital signature disappeared.

In a rush, Jinx's mind went black, a searing numbness shooting down his spinal column. There was a roar of sound and then an oppressive silence, a blankness he had no capacity to contain, and then his body hitting ground, hands tangling with dirt. This was no electrical surge—no aftereffect of a weapon burning holes through his very neurons. It was worse.

Her warning had done nothing to prepare him. Even experiencing this before—it had given him no tools to cope. Just like in those terrifying seconds when she had cut him loose from his Three, he was left floundering. Alone.

Entirely, completely alone.

Every single nerve fired into darkness, and his eyes were closed, teeth bearing down. The warmth of her mind was gone. She was gone.

A frisson of fear ignited in the dark. She said it would be a second of silence. Panic clawed at him. It had been too long. Too long.

He'd lost her.

“Come back.”
He screamed it with his thoughts and with his voice, screamed it to the heavens and to Earth as he drowned.

She'd left him. What had he done?

He'd trusted her. She'd said he might not hear her, but this was— This was—

And then there was her voice. Her perfect, perfect voice.

“I'm here.”

“I'm here.”

“Hold on to me.”

He was held in arms, unable to tell how much time had elapsed inside the hellscape of solitude and silence. With one gasping inhale, he surfaced, opened his eyes and found the most brilliant hazel ones staring back at him.

“I've got you,” she whispered.

All at once, his limbs came back under his control as sound crashed around him, buoying him up. In a rush, he wrapped his arms around her. He clung to her, burying his face against her hair. “Don't let go.”

“I'm here.”

As he squeezed her even tighter, he reached out with his mind, needing the reassurance of her link just as much he did her physical presence. He breathed more deeply as she let him in without reservation, opening herself to him and his probing. Only when he was satisfied that she was here, that she was real and that her thoughts were still his, did he loosen his hold.

And in that instant, he realized the depth of his vulnerability.

He needed her. He needed his connection to her mind, clearly, just to survive. But more than that, he needed
her
. Had since the instant she'd opened herself to him. Since she'd let him inside her. And she knew it.

He didn't know what he was going to do about it.

He was on his feet before he entirely realized what had happened. She rose to meet him, put a hand on his chest as his anxiety rose. “Jinx?”

“What?”

She reached up and placed a gentle hand on his cheek. The warmth and connection were almost overwhelming, especially with the lingering hollow inside him after those aching seconds without her. Especially in light of his realization of the severity of his need. “Are you all right?”