Panic, bordering on hysteria, gripped my lungs as I ran across campus to the hover hangar. Erik and Henri were loading bags onto a TOXIC jet when I breathlessly crossed the threshold. Erik looked up as I approached and waved. Despite the dire reason I’d come, I felt my heart skip a beat and my stomach flutter. The smile that lit up his face fell when he picked up on my emotional state.

  “I thought you might not come,” he called, crossing the cement floor to where I stood.

  “Erik, I need to talk to you,” I panted, disregarding his greeting.

  Henri had followed Erik over and now stood next to him. “I’ll leave you two to say goodbye,” he offered, looking awkwardly between my red, sweaty face and Erik’s distraught expression. Henri gave me a quick hug and peck on the cheek before retreating.

  Erik rested his hands on my shoulders, and I could feel the heat of his skin through my sweater. His turquoise eyes sparkled sadly, and I knew that he’d read my thoughts.

  “I’m so sorry, Erik,” I whispered.

  “I always knew that you would never get over him,” he said regretfully, as if I hadn’t spoken. “I suppose it’s hard to say no to a guy who nearly died for you,” Erik continued.

  I was so confused that I momentarily forgot the reason that I’d nearly torn a hamstring in my haste to get to the hangar.

  “I don’t think that willingly risking his life for me and me nearly killing him because I lost control are the same thing,” I said slowly, still trying to figure out what the hell Erik was talking about.

  “Huh?” Erik sounded confused now. “What are you talking about?”

  “What are you talking about?” I countered.

  “Nevada,” he said slowly.

  I stared at him blankly, my brain apparently too slow to fit the pieces of the puzzle together. What did Donavon, Nevada, and me nearly dying have in common?

  “When the extraction team found you in Nevada, you’d lost so much blood that they didn’t think you were going to make it,” Erik started to explain. I mentally urged him to continue. I knew all of this, but had no idea what it had to do with Donavon. “Well, there was only so much blood on the plane, and the Medics were unable to stop your bleeding.” He seemed hesitant to continue; his words were halted.

  “Okay . . . and what does this have to do with Donavon?” I demanded.

  “Donavon was part of the extraction team,” he said, eyeing me cautiously. “You didn’t know that?” he guessed.

  “No,” I whispered. “I didn’t.” Mac had left that detail out when he’d filled in my memory gaps. And apparently, when Donavon said that he’d never lie to me again and that I could trust him, he’d conveniently forgotten about this.

  “Get to the part about Donavon nearly dying,” I hissed through clenched teeth.

  Erik grimaced, and I almost felt bad since my anger wasn’t directed at him.

  “Well, when the Medics used all of the blood on the craft and you still needed more, Donavon insisted on giving you his. So, the Medics gave you a direct transfusion. Donavon gave you so much blood that he had to be carried off of the plane when it finally landed in Kansas.” Erik looked miserable, like it physically pained him to admit that Donavon had done something so noble.

  “How do you know this?” I asked, fighting the hysteria rising in my chest. Why had no one told me? Why had Donavon not told me?

  “I arrived in Kansas a couple of hours after you did. The Director was screaming at Donavon, saying that he shouldn’t have done it. He kept telling Donavon that he screwed up and that you would have made it to Kansas, where there was more blood, already filtered and cleaned, to give you.”

  “Why was it such a big deal? Why was Mac so mad?” I asked, more to myself than to Erik. All Operatives were routinely checked for diseases and illnesses; Donavon would’ve known if he was sick. Surely he wouldn’t have given me his blood if he knew that it was tainted.

  “Well, it’s against protocol; but in extreme circumstances, I’m sure that it’s happened before,” Erik said. “All I know is the Director was so furious that he made Donavon leave immediately. Donavon said he wanted to make sure that you were okay, but the Director told him he’d already done enough.”

  “Why wouldn’t Donavon tell me?” I asked, voicing the million dollar question.

  “I don’t know, Tal. I’m sorry that I told you. I figured you already knew.”

  I shook my head, no longer trusting myself to speak.

  “Erik, we need to go,” Henri called from inside the craft.

  “Tal, I’m so sorry. I wouldn’t have said anything if I knew that you didn’t know.” He wiped his thumb under my left eye and across my left cheek, smearing the tear that had spilled over. He bent down and kissed my cheek, his lips warm against my cool, damp skin.

  “I’ll see you soon, Tal,” he whispered, his breath tickling my ear. He turned and started to walk toward the open plane door.

  I shoved my hands in my back pockets to still the shaking, and my fingers closed around Erik’s letter. I called out to him, “Erik! Wait!”

  He turned slowly, hope filling his features. I hated that what I was about to say would once again wipe that expression off his face.

  “Donavon had your letter.”

  “What?” he demanded, closing the space between us faster than I’d have thought possible. He grabbed my upper arms, his fingers digging painfully into my flesh. “What did you say?” His crazed expression terrified me; I’d seen that look before, and nothing good could come of it.

  “I-I-I was in his room, looking for salt; and I found it, stuffed in the back of his desk,” I whimpered.

  “When?” Erik demanded.

  “Just now, before I came here,” I whispered. Erik’s grip on me tightened and I cried out, sure that my arms would be tie-dyed black and blue tomorrow. “I’m so sorry,” I sobbed. “I didn’t mean for him—for anybody to find it. I was reading it in Nevada when I thought I was dying.”

  “So he’s had it for what, ten months now?” Erik asked, more to himself than me.

  “I don’t know. The last time I saw it before tonight was right before I passed out. When it wasn’t listed with my personal effects, I assumed that it had been burned when the extraction team sanitized the woods where they found me,” I explained.

  Finally, Erik released me; I swayed unsteadily without him holding me up. He reached for me again, but this time he wrapped his arms around me and crushed my body to his. I relaxed into his embrace, circling my own arms around his waist.

  “Shit, Tal, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he murmured into my hair. “I’m not mad at you; it’s not your fault,” he promised.

  “Erik! We really need to go,” Henri called. “I’m sorry, Tal,” he added.

  “I’ll call you when I get back,” he promised. “We’ll talk about it then.”

  Nodding, I reluctantly disentangled myself from his arms. But we both knew that we wouldn’t actually be able to talk about it over the communicators; the Agency monitored them too closely.

  “I’m so sorry,” I croaked again. Erik reached for my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, then quickly brushed his mouth against mine. When he tried to pull away, I instinctively grabbed the back of his neck and kissed him deeper. Erik’s lips quirked into a grin as his hands closed around my waist. Even though Erik had kissed me numerous times before, the thrill that I felt now was just as intense as it had been the first time.

  Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

  The feel of his mouth against mine was familiar and intoxicating, causing my head to spin. I lost awareness of the surrounding hangar. He crushed my hips against his, and I tangled my fingers in his thick hair.

  When Erik broke the connection, I physically ached at the absence of his touch. He beamed, warmth and passion radiating from his every pore. His fingertips brushed the hollow of my throat in an oddly intimate gesture that nearly sent me melting to the concrete. Then with a tremendous amount of effort, Erik turned and jogged to the open plane door.

  I stood rooted in my place until the electric engines of the craft came to life. I turned and walked slowly from the hangar. The night air was cool and I hugged myself, fighting off the cold air and the confusion at the same time. Why wouldn’t Donavon have told me? Why was it such a big deal? Why hadn’t Mac told me? Why had Mac reacted like that? I felt like I’d somehow been lied to, betrayed. Was an omission really a lie?

  Opening my mind as wide as I could, I searched for Donavon. I focused all of my energy on pinpointing his location; he was at his parents’ house. I contemplated going up there, but then decided it against it. Confronting Donavon was one thing, but confronting Mac was another. Instead, I walked to the Crypto Bank to find Penny; maybe she could make sense out of all of this.

  ***

  When I arrived, Penny and Gemma were in their usual positions. Penny’s smile froze when she saw me.

  “Talia! What’s wrong?” she cried.

  “Can you access medical records?” I asked quietly.

  “Whose medical records?” she asked, looking confused.

  “Donavon’s,” I answered firmly. There must be something wrong with Donavon, something wrong with his blood, something that he’d passed on to me. It was the only reason that Mac would’ve been so mad.

  “No,” Penny said slowly. “I can’t. I’m sorry, Tal.” Penny glanced to where Gemma sat, headphones covering her ears, and looked relieved that she couldn’t hear my demands.

  “Well, then, how about mine?” I pressed.

  “Talia, I can’t access anyone’s medical records. They’re not kept in the same e-files as the rest of your information. Those records are kept in the Medical facility. My clearance isn’t that high. What’s this about?”

  “Did you know that the Medics who rescued me gave me Donavon’s unfiltered blood?” I asked bluntly.

  “No. Who told you that?” she demanded.

  “Erik. He said that when he arrived in Kansas, Mac and Donavon were fighting about it. Mac said that he shouldn’t have done it, that it was dangerous. Did I catch something from Donavon? Is that what’s really wrong with me?” I pleaded.

  “Oh, Tal,” she whispered. “I don’t know.”

  “There isn’t anything that you can tell from our records?” She’d already told me that she couldn’t, but I somehow hoped that if I asked again, her answer would be different.

  “I’m sorry, Talia. I really am, but there’s nothing in Donavon’s regular file that would tell me that about his medical history.”

  “I think I need to go lie down,” I said numbly, turning to leave.

  “Tal?” she called after me.

  “Yeah?”

  “You should probably keep your distance from Donavon until we figure this out.”

  I nodded in agreement.

  I walked back to my room in a state of shock. I undressed and crawled into bed in nothing but a tank top and my underwear, clenching Erik’s letter, smeared with my dried blood, in my hand. The light on my communicator was blinking furiously, but I ignored it. Carefully, I unfolded the well-worn pages, and reread the words that I knew by heart.

  Natalia,

  A couple nights ago you asked about the circumstances leading to me going to the McDonough School when I was fourteen. I know that you were hurt I wouldn’t share my story with you, but I’ve never shared it with anybody. I’ve never trusted someone enough with my secret; I’ve never wanted to let anybody get that close to me.

  I’m so sorry about what happened last night. I’m sorry that I let things go so far with you when I’ve known all along that you’re still upset over Donavon. But you’re right—I do know how you feel about me. I’ve known for a long time how you feel, maybe even before you knew it yourself. I feel the same way. You’ve captivated me since the first time we met, during your placement exams. I thought that it was just a crush, an odd fascination with a girl who managed to surprise me. But the more time I spent with you, the more I began to realize that what I’m feeling is so much more than a crush. I’d known about Donavon and the girl—her name is Kandice—for a while. I really wanted to tell you, but Henri persuaded me not to. He thought my feelings for you were clouding my judgment, and he was afraid that if I was the one to tell you, you might not have believed me. He sensed that you were starting to realize I am falling for you. I stand by my decision. I wish that you hadn’t found out the way you did, but I’m glad that you found out on your own. Honestly, I’m not sure you would have believed it otherwise.

  I can’t put into words how much it pained me to see you hurting so much, but slowly you bounced back just like I knew you would. You’re a fighter. When you finally started to understand that what you’re feeling for me is real, I was elated. I tried to hold back, tried to give you more time to grieve, but I was selfish. I want you, so I started something even though I know that you aren’t really ready. I was jealous again when I realized that you still think about him when we’re together. I want all of you for myself, and when you thought about him last night, my temper got the best of me. I said things that I can’t take back, but hope you forgive me. If time is what you need, that’s what I’ll give you.

  You wanted to give me something that you’ve never shared with anyone, and I want you to know that I don’t take that lightly. I also want to share something with you that I’ve never shared with anyone. Just know that once you’ve read what I have to say, you might not like it—or me. That’s a risk I’m willing to take; I honestly think that you, of all people, deserve to know. So here it goes:

  My parents are firm supporters of the movement to repeal the Talent Testing Act. Both my brothers and I were born at home instead of in a hospital because both of my parents are Talents. They were confident that at least one of us would be born Talented, and they didn’t want our births on record. I’m the oldest. When I was three, my parents noticed that I was able to replicate both of their abilities. It unnerved them because Mimics are so rare. They knew that the Agency would come for me if they ever found out. Both of my younger brothers also exhibited Talent at a young age, although neither is very strong. My middle brother is a mono-morph, and my youngest brother is a low-level Brain.

  We moved around a lot, staying off of TOXIC’s radar. We lived mostly in rural areas and kept to ourselves. I grew up fearing the Agency and what they stood for, but as I got older, I began to think that maybe my parents were paranoid. I met a girl on one of my grocery runs when we were living in North Carolina. We became close and I got cocky. I told her all about my abilities, trying to impress her. She in turn told her parents. Days later, Agency Operatives raided our home. Ordinarily, the penalty for refusing to submit children for testing is jail time and a heavy fine. But my parents were proud and fought. My mother was killed in the raid. My father and brothers probably would’ve been, too, but I knew that TOXIC hadn’t come for them; they’d come for me. The man in charge of the mission told me that I was in no position to bargain, but I could tell he was lying. I surrendered myself in exchange for the lives of my father and my brothers.

  Mimics are so rare and I could tell how badly he wanted me, so I called his bluff. I threatened to take my own life if he didn’t agree to the terms of my deal. In the end, he agreed. I offered to go willingly to the School and take my “rightful” place within the Agency. In return my brothers would be free to attend regular school and live normal lives, and my father wouldn’t be penalized. My father and brothers now live in Raleigh and are closely monitored by Agency personnel. Under the terms of my agreement, I’m not allowed to speak about what happened, visit my family, or step out of line. They’ll all be executed if I violate any of these conditions.

  I’ve been closely watched since my first day at School. Truthfully, I’m shocked that the Agency allowed me to become a Hunter. However, my willing sacrifice—and the constant vigilance of those in charge—has proven me to be a loyal Operative. I don’t agree with the Mandatory Testing laws and I don’t really care about the Coalition and their rebellion, but I do care about my family’s well-being. If that means I have to fall in line and play my part, I will—and I do.

  I told you that I’d tell you all of this when you were ready to hear it. I don’t really know if you are ready now, but I wanted to share something with you. I also want you to understand that the Agency isn’t all that you believe it to be. There are many within it that are corrupt, and the system in general is incredibly flawed.

  You had a choice about whether to join this organization. I know that you see it as a chance to right the wrongs in your past, but just remember that the rest of us weren’t given the same option. The Agency is responsible for the wrongs in my past.

  I feel the deeply buried doubt that you keep bottled up inside of you. I’m not saying that you should leave the Agency or anything like that. I just want you to keep your eyes open, and hang on to that doubt. It’s unlikely that Donavon is the only one who’s lied to you.

  I gave this to Henri because I trust him for reasons he’ll have to explain to you some day. I gave it to you now because I wanted you to have a chance to read it away from the ever-watchful electronic presence of TOXIC’s prying eyes. I that know you’re too curious to not read this before you return, so we can talk about it when you get back if you want to. If you don’t, well, that’s fine too. I hope that you’ll understand how much trust it took for me to write this—and even if you believe nothing I say, I hope that you won’t share its contents with anybody.

  E.

  Crawling out of bed, I made my way to the bathroom. Holding Erik’s words under the sink faucet, I turned the knob. Water soaked the pages, and my blood stained the clear liquid red as it swirled down the drain. After several long moments, all that remained in my fingers was a soggy mess of pulp. I wrapped the remnants in toilet paper, and flushed the bits of incriminating evidence. As I walked back to my bed, I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror over my sink. My cheeks were sunken in, the hollows under my eyes so purple they seemed to be reflecting the color of my irises.

  I’d thought about Erik’s letter frequently over the past several months, but actually reading his accusations in black and white once more drove home the words on those pages. I didn’t know how much of what he wrote was true, but if nothing else, I was certain that Erik believed that every word he wrote was gospel. It pained me that Mac might allow such atrocities to go unchecked on his watch. I doubted that the Agency would really kill Erik’s family if he slipped up…or did I? You have no idea what your Agency does to innocent people.