Blink: 1 (Rebel Minds) (4 page)

J
AMESON

M
y pulse is pounding
and I feel sick to my stomach as I all but run away from her. What is going
on?
It’s like I’m being drawn to every place that Aria is. It’s really starting to freak me out—like I have no control over my own actions.

Rounding the corner where my motorbike is parked, I hop on and head toward the heart of the city. I’m supposed to meet up with my handler in a little over two hours but Drew has tried to call me at least three times in the last fifteen minutes. I can’t ignore her much longer.

The low hum of the bike is drowned out by my helmet and I voice command a call to Drew. She answers before the first ring finishes.

“Finally! Where the heck have you been J?”

“Sorry.” How do I explain that I’m drawn to this girl like a moth to a flame? I’m a better operative than that. I decide to go noncommittal. “I was busy.”

“Really. No duh. Okay, whatever, just knock it off will you? This is serious.”

Her tone scares me. I frown, revving my bike faster. Drew is anything but dramatic. “What’s up, D?”

“Someone’s been looking into you.”

Her tone is sharp, making her words reverberate through my helmet. “What?”

She sighs impatiently. “Someone is actively
seeking you out
and I know that because they were searching for the name
Wisdom
. I couldn’t be sure who it was, just some random messages on the boards, but I’m pretty certain they got what they were looking for. I tried following the trail and they covered their tracks very well. Whoever they are, they’ve got skills and they know exactly who you are. They may even be tracking your CP signal.”

My heart thuds inside my chest, a sickening feeling dropping like a lead weight in my stomach. This is bad.

“Can we feed them false info? Trace back to them to find out who they are? Anything?”

“I already talked to Wanda, but she’s swamped and even though she owes me a favor I don’t think she can give it any attention until next week.”

I grimace. Who would be searching for me? For my middle name no less? No one knows—my brain skids to a stop.
Aria knows.
I frown. But she wouldn’t have the resources for that type of hack. She couldn’t. I know almost everything there is to know about her, and she doesn’t associate with Techs.

“Thanks Drew. I gotta go.” I can hear her sigh heavily on the other end of the line.

“Just be safe, J. Please. I don’t like the idea that secured information is out there for anyone to find. I especially don’t like that it’s about you.”

“I will. And thanks. I’ll keep you posted.”

“You got it.”

The connection cuts and I focus on my next meeting. I have to clear my mind and erase all traces of Aria before I get there, though that’s getting to be almost impossible. I’ll deal with the mysterious hacker later, but for now, I know one thing… I can’t risk seeing her again.

A
RIA

D
espite Sierra’s reservations
, I’m playing a gig tonight. The dim lights and smoky atmosphere feel like home and I swallow a gulp of cold beer, preparing for my first set. The door opens and she walks toward me, drawing the attention of men from all sides.

“Hey girlie, ready to knock ‘em dead?”

“You bet.” My lips curve. My sister always knows how to make me smile.

Sierra grins back. “Glad I could make it.”

“Like you would have let me play if you weren’t going to be here.” I roll my eyes, giving her a swift kiss on the cheek in greeting.

She shrugs. “Hey, I’m just looking out for my baby sis. Someone’s got to.”

I shake my head and make my way toward the stage. My voice is a little rusty, but I push past it, pounding the black and white keys on my opening number. Part of me wishes Wisdom would walk through the door, like last time. It’s ridiculous, but I think it anyway.

The set goes well and I end with my new song. When I make my way back to the table where my sister is hibernating, I see her nursing a dark beer and scrolling through her CP.

“Glad I was so entertaining.” I plop down in a chair across from her.

She laughs and sets the phone down, clicking the screen off. “No. I was totally listening. I just had a few messages to check on.”

I see something in her eyes and for some odd reason, it worries me. “What’s going on, Sierra?”

She looks surprised but recovers quickly, waving her hand in the air and brushing me off. “Nothing. Nothing at all, don’t worry. Want another beer?” She smiles at me, giving me her full attention.

I want to press the issue but the door opens and my eyes are drawn to the backlit figure. Disappointment twinges. He’s too tall to be Wisdom.

“No.” I sigh and slump deeper into my chair, glancing at Sierra. “This is ridiculous.”

“What, honey?” She leans forward, her brow wrinkling with concern.

I know it’s going to sound dumb, but the words come toppling out before I can stop them. “I miss Wisdom.” I scrub my hands through my hair, feeling like an idiot. Sierra’s expression clouds briefly, then clears. She reaches out and squeezes my hand.

“Oh sweetie. He’s not real. You
know
that.”

“Yeah. I know. You keep telling me that, but I swear he’s as real as…” I falter. I can’t think of anything
more
real than Wisdom. “As real as you and me sitting here, face to face. In my heart I
know
.”

Great. Now I sound like the lyrics to a really bad song. Ugh.

Sierra lifts her hand to flag down one of the servers. “Let’s just get you another beer and find you another man to take your mind off of this… this
fictional
guy.”

I scowl. “Pass.”

She laughs and takes a long swig of her beer. “Move on, hun. No use waiting on a dream.”

With resignation I head back to the stage, switching the first song in my set to a ballad that lets me channel all my love-sick feelings into the vocals. The applause, louder than normal, is proof that I got my point across.

The bartenders are wiping down the bar when Sierra and I finally make our way outside. I stuff the wad of cash from the tip jar, mostly ones, into my pocket and suck in a deep breath of clean air. I love to sing, but I sure hate the smoggy, smoky environment.
Among other things.
I grimace, my mind flashing back to all of the things I can never unsee. Gigging has definitely not come without its downsides.

“Girl, you were on
fire
tonight.” My sister shoulder bumps me, giving me a sideways glance.

“Ya think?” I grin, accepting the praise. “I’ve got a lot of angst and emotion roiling around inside me these days.” I twist my lips ruefully.

Sierra sighs. “Forget him, Aria.” She pulls me to her, wrapping her arm around my shoulder in a sisterly squeeze. “He’s. Not.
Real.”

The sound of breaking glass stops us in our tracks. We turn and stare at each other, our eyes widening as we hear some kind of thud and the sound of more glass shattering. We both turn and look at the same time. Loud, angry voices are coming toward us, a multitude of voices, just out of sight around the next corner. My stomach clenches and my pulse speeds up.
What
is going on?

“Sierra?” I hate how frail my voice sounds, betraying my nervousness.

“Hold on.” She glances around, her jaw tight. “There has to be a Gov agent around here somewhere.” She looks down the side street we just passed, running a few steps back, but there’s no one in sight.

I chew my lip, hearing the commotion moving closer. Whoever it is, they’re going to be rounding that corner any minute. “Can we hide somewhere?” I swivel my head around, but I don’t see too many ideal hiding spots.

Sierra looks amped, like she’s ready to fight off a terrorist if need be, but she also knows we’re just two unarmed girls in a neighborhood well-known for it’s criminal element. Her brows collide as her gaze scans the area around us, thinking fast.

“Come on.”

She grabs my hand and we dart down the street the way we just came, Sierra looking to the left and then to the right, trying to find a place to hide. She makes a beeline for a small alleyway I hadn’t even noticed. She steps into a darkened doorway and pulls me next to her, a warning look on her face.

“Don’t move. Don’t say anything.”

I nod, pressing my lips together. I close my eyes and try to calm my breathing. The voices grow louder, sounds of destruction following them as they round the corner and turn down the street we just escaped from. I watch Sierra pull out her CP, making sure the bright screen is shielded by her sweater so it doesn’t glow and give away our presence in the darkness. She’s messaging someone, but I can’t tell who.

I shoot her an incredulous look, wondering what’s so important it can’t wait until a better time, but keep my mouth shut.

“Bro, you are
wasted
.” Laughter fills the small alleyway, bouncing off concrete.

“Dude, I know. So high right now. I think I’m flying.” More laughter. “Flying!” He’s singing it out like some kind of freakish pop song.

I feel sick to my stomach, and my heartbeat speeds up a notch. They sound even closer now than they did before.

“Man, I’m so hungry. Doesn’t Frankie live down this way? Maybe she’s got somethin’ to eat or whatever.”

“I thought she was over off 8
^th
Street, bro?”

“Nah, man. It’s down this way. I’m sure of it.”

I press my back into the door, squeezing my eyes closed and willing myself to become invisible. I hear their footsteps coming closer. I open my eyes again in panic, meeting Sierra’s gaze, but she presses a finger to her lips as a reminder. As if I need to be reminded to keep my mouth shut.

The sound of a helicopter approaching makes me catch my breath. I look up, eyes straining to see in the distance. ‘Copters almost never come this way. Unless there’s trouble.

I glance over at Sierra. She doesn’t look surprised at all. I frown. Why doesn’t she look surprised? This isn’t normal.

“Oh man! The Gov. They’re coming this way.
Dude
, how are they even here? They never come over here.”

I hear a trash can tip over, a grunt, and then the sound of several footsteps running off down the alley. The noise is music to my ears and makes me want to shout in victory. It’s stupid, I know, we had nothing to do with it. But—I stop, looking back at Sierra on her CP again, texting something.

I subtly lean closer, straining to get a glimpse of who she’s texting without looking like I’m being nosy. I can only see one word on the screen though, and I don’t know who it’s to.

Thanks.

J
AMESON

“
I
’m sorry sir
, what did you just say?”

The gravely voice of my handler comes over the com more clearly. “We need her—yesterday. What is taking so long? You’re the best operative we have. Find her. Bring her in.
Now
.”

“Sir, yes, sir.”

The line goes dead and I slam my CP on the seat next to me. I bang my fist against my thigh, hoping the pain will distract my racing thoughts. Somehow, I’ve wound up stuck in the middle of something I don’t understand. I’m only just beginning to see that, and I keep trying to come up with ways to ignore my orders. But what’s even scarier is the fact that I
want
to resist. That’s not normal.

No. It’s not that it’s just not normal. It’s unheard of. An anomaly. Impossible.

My head slumps forward and I sink my hands into my hair, tugging it in frustration. Aria is not just another target. My heart pounds at the vision of her face that drifts across my closed lids, tormenting my mind. I sit up straight, dropping my hands. Can I trick them? Bring in someone who looks like her and convince them? I slump again, sighing heavily.

No. I’m not
that
powerful.

The sun has set and the streetlamp above my car pops on, flooding the empty passenger seat with fake, yellowish light. I hear laughter and look up to see Aria walking toward a dimly lit cafe. I swallow, still caught by her beauty, even from a distance. What is it about this girl?

I’m drawn to her. It’s the most illogical thing I’ve ever experienced, but I simply cannot resist her. When I’m not actively controlling my mind, her face is front and center. Her kiss, though only in our memories, is all I seem to be able to think about.

As if in a trance, I open the door and stride toward the cafe.

Everything inside of me is screaming out a warning. Don’t go in there. Don’t let her see you. Run away!

But I can’t stop even if I wanted to.

The bell jingles above the door and the muted sounds of laughter and conversation wash over me. She’s sitting with her back toward the window, strumming lightly on guitar strings with her eyes closed. Her dark silky hair is tossed over her shoulder in a messy braid. I groan in frustration. I want to walk right up to her and kiss those full lips like nobody’s business.

Instead, I sit down in the back corner.

“But I’ll never know a thing more true, as the day I feel in love with you.”

Her words pierce my heart. They are for me. I don’t know how I can be sure, but I am. My lips curve. I know I shouldn’t feel pleased about that, but I am.

She finishes the song and opens her eyes as the music fades to silence. They land on me like she was expecting to see me. The surprise on her face tells me she wasn’t.

I give her a half smile, royally distracted. Who does she think I am? Jameson? Or Wisdom?

Her delicate fingers strum into the next song and I sit there enraptured. Her breathy voice, occasional smile, and confident musicianship. It’s the perfect package. She was born for this. I can’t tear my gaze away.

After what feels like an eternity, she announces a break. She rises to her feet and starts walking toward me. I’m surprised, assuming she’d want to stay as far away from me as possible because of the jerk I’ve been, but she sits down across from me and lifts a brow.
A very cute brow
.

“What are you doing here?”

I give my head a shake and flash her a grin. “Who are you? The cafe police or something?”

That brings a smile to her lips. “Is that how it’s going to be?”

I shrug. “I thought I’d come hear you play. You’re pretty good.”

She rolls her eyes. “Oh, well gee. Thanks so much. I can see it cost you a lot to say that.”

I lean forward abruptly, elbows on the table, and she instinctively leans away from my sudden closeness. “I mean it. You have a beautiful…voice.” I give her my best, most disarming smile.

“Thanks.” She blushes and looks down, prompting another smile from me. Huh. I like this side of her.
The real her.

“Can I buy you a cup of coffee?”

She glances back to her guitar, chewing on her lower lip. Her expression when she faces me again is unreadable. “I’ve only got a few minutes.”

“A small cup then?”

She stares at me for a few seconds. “Fine.”

I get up to go order two cappuccinos and find her playing with a napkin when I come back, shredding it into tiny pieces and making a little mountain out of them.

“For you, ma’lady.” I hold out a coffee.

Her smile is small, but she accepts the warm cup from me. Our fingers brush and a jolt of electricity zips through me. I stiffen. It takes everything in me not to pull her into my arms right then and there, but I suck in a deep breath, searching for calm. Her gaze is startled, but she recovers quickly.

“So,
Jameson
,” she says, emphasizing my name. I like the sound of it coming from her lips. “What do you do?”

“Lots of things.” I’m purposefully vague, and have to hide a smile. I can tell she hates it. Her forehead wrinkles.

“You’re really not good at this conversation stuff, are you.”

I shrug. “My job isn’t all that interesting. What about you? Just a musician?”

“Just?” She sniffs delicately.

I roll my eyes in an exaggerated manner. “Oh, give me a break, will ya? Is music all you do?”

She relents and shakes her head. “No, I work part time at a school in the north. Just a few days a week.” She shrugs. “Gives me plenty of time to write and gig at night.”

“Glamorous.”

“Quite. I get to meet charming people like you.” The sarcastic bite to her words only adds to her allure. I almost bust out laughing.

“I know. Aren’t I great?” I quip instead. I grin and she blushes a second time. I’m slightly perplexed. She’s attracted to me. I can see it in her eyes and feel it in her thoughts, but there’s this mystery surrounding her I can’t figure out.

“So what’s your story?” I study her, eager to hear anything she wants to tell me.

She leans back, sipping the coffee. “Broke artist.”

“Family?”

“A sister.”

I bite back a groan. She’s killing me with the two word answers. “A boyfriend?”

There’s the barest hint of a pause before she says, “No.”

“Married?”

“Ha! Definitely not.” She laughs, and glances over her shoulder at the guitar again. “I’ve really got to get going on my next set.”

I nod. “I’ll be here when you’re done.”

I can see the surprise in her eyes. She clears her throat. “Yeah, right.”

“I will.” I insist. “We’ll share more stimulating conversation, and tell each other all our dirty, innermost secrets.” I waggle my brows in an exaggerated manner.

A peal of laughter escapes her lips, tinkling all over me before she presents her back and makes her way back to her guitar.

I lean back in my seat and get comfortable, enjoying the sound of her voice and the insightful, sometimes rebellious lyrics she sings. I fall deeper under enthrallment with every new word, every new note. I frown, a tiny sense of unease breaking loose. She’s a firecracker wrapped in beauty and mystery. I can’t get enough.
And that’s a problem.