“You should go, Donavon,” I said quietly, tears filling my eyes.
“No, Talia. I’m not leaving. You can’t honestly tell me that you don’t still have feelings for me, can you?”
I did still have feelings for Donavon. I still cared so much that knowing that he was lying to me broke my heart all over again. “If you love me, if you still care about me, then tell me the truth, Donavon. Did you tell her that you loved her?”
Donavon swallowed hard. “Yes, I did,” he whispered.
A sob tore through my chest and I yanked my hand free from his. “Get out!” I cried.
Donavon sat up, but didn’t leave my bed. “Tal, please, let’s talk about this,” he pleaded.
I shot up and scrambled to lean against the wall. Shadows danced across his features and a thin strip of moonlight illuminated his shiny blue eyes. Hot anger coursed through my veins, and the urge to attack him was too strong to suppress. My hand shot out and I slapped him across his face. Donavon didn’t raise a finger to defend himself. His complacent demeanor infuriated me further, and I balled my fists and pounded on his chest, sobbing hysterically.
When my blows slowed, Donavon wrapped his fingers around my wrists and pulled me to him.
“I’m so sorry, Talia, I’m so sorry,” he repeated over and over again.
Donavon let me cry until my wails gave way to hiccups and my breath came in ragged gasps. My head spun even as I buried my face in his shirt. Though my cries had subsided, I still couldn’t breathe right; my chest felt so tight, and a searing pain accompanied every breath. The trembling in my arms and legs became worse instead of better. The rigidness left my muscles and I sagged against Donavon, a violently quaking puddle of limbs. Then my jaw clenched and air hissed through my barely parted lips.
“Tal?” Donavon asked in alarm.
I couldn’t answer him; I couldn’t say anything. I couldn’t even find the wherewithal to communicate mentally.
“Crap, crap, crap,” I heard Donavon chant from somewhere far away.
My vision and hearing were fading fast, and I knew that I would soon be unconscious. Terrified, I scratched weakly at his t-shirt, willing him to understand that I was having a seizure and I needed him to call Dr. Thistler.
The message must’ve gotten through because I heard him screaming into my communicator seconds later.
“Dad! Dad! You have to get down here - it’s Talia! She’s convulsing. I think that she’s having a seizure!”
Then his lips were next to my ear, and my head knocked against his as the spasms racked through my body.
“Hold on, Tal. Help is coming,” he promised. His arms were strong and comforting, and he held me tighter the more that I shook. Donavon continued to murmur assurances while we waited for his father to arrive.
Mac must have been close because the door to my room burst open several minutes later. Mac, Dr. Thistler, and Janet rushed inside. Mac pried me from his son’s arms, shoved Donavon aside, and laid me flat on the bed, pinning me against the mattress as I thrashed uncontrollably. Dr. Thistler tore the sleeve back from my arm and wasted no time plunging the needle into my exposed vein. The moment the drugs hit my bloodstream, the shaking slowed. Mac stroked my sweaty hair back from my forehead, and I relaxed into the blankets.
“You’re okay, now,” he soothed.
I still couldn’t talk, but I managed to bob my head up and down. Mac wrapped his large hands around mine, rubbing back and forth to calm the lingering tremors. I closed my eyes, exhausted.
“Natalia, are you hurt?” he asked, holding up one of my hands.
Hurt? Like besides the seizure? I wondered.
“It’s not her blood, Dad,” Donavon answered quietly.
Blood? I thought, managing to muster enough strength to lift my eyelids. Sure enough, the fingernails of the hand Mac was examining were stained red. I looked from my bloody hands to Donavon; the front of his shirt was torn, and long scratches ran the length of his neck and chest. One of his cheeks was slightly darker than the other, where I’d slapped him.
“Did I do that?” I stammered, tripping over the words.
Mac, Janet, and Dr. Thistler exchanged worried glances, but Donavon’s sympathetic eyes stay focused on me. No one answered my question.
“Donavon, go change,” his father ordered.
“I think that someone should stay with Talia tonight,” he replied, keeping his feet firmly rooted in place.
“I think that she should go to Medical, so I can observe her,” Dr. Thistler said pointedly.
“No,” I moaned in protest. The only thing that I wanted less than having an overnight babysitter was having a sleepover in the hospital.
“She’ll be more comfortable here. I’ll stay with her,” Donavon answered evenly, boldly meeting Dr. Thistler’s gaze. Like his father, Donavon was physically imposing. As he rose to his full height, haughtily crossing his arms over his torn shirt and pinning her with a gaze that was pure ice, I realized just how much like Mac he really was. Dr. Thistler must have realized it too, because she pursed her thin lips and gave Donavon a disapproving look; but then she took several steps back and didn’t argue further.
Mac’s expression was neutral, but I could feel his displeasure. Donavon tore his eyes from Dr. Thistler, and the warm baby-blue color was back when he fixed them on me. He silently pleaded with me to tell them that he could stay. The doctor might have cowered under his stare, but his father would not. If I insisted on spending the night in my room with Donavon there to watch me, Mac might agree. Truthfully, I wanted to spend the night in my own room alone, but I knew that option wasn’t on the table.
“I want Donavon to stay with me,” I said, the words sounding garbled and nearly unintelligible since I was still trying to regain control of my muscles.
Mac, Janet, and Dr. Thistler exchanged more uneasy glances.
“Fine, but you have to sleep,” Mac finally agreed.
He needn’t worry about that; between my seizure and Donavon’s admission, I was barely able to stay awake.
Dr. Thistler made me promise to go straight to sleep and check in with her in the morning. Mac tucked me under the covers and said a quick goodnight. Janet leaned down and kissed me on the forehead before following the other two out of the room.
Donavon walked with them to close my door once they’d gone.
“Don’t,” Mac told his son in a voice so low that I knew he hadn’t meant for me to hear. Donavon threw me a look over his shoulder, indecision and sorrow warring in his mind.
“I won’t,” he said to his father in the same barely audible whisper. Then he shut my bedroom door in Mac’s face.
I was too tired to care what Mac didn’t want his son to do; I had a couple of guesses, all of them embarrassing for me. Donavon discussing our personal interactions with his father was so not something that I wanted to know about. Given that Mac had found his son in my bedroom late at night, his mind must have jumped to the logical conclusion, but that he’d felt the need to expressly warn him not to touch me after I’d had a seizure was more than I could handle.
Donavon didn’t get back into bed. Instead he sat on the floor next to it, leaning against the wall. He propped his elbows on bent knees and rested his face on upturned palms. Tentatively, I reached for one of his hands. He wound his fingers through mine, but refused to face me.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I didn’t mean to claw you.” Gingerly, I touched the raised scratches on his neck; he didn’t even flinch as I ran my finger over the wounds. The marks were extremely thin and felt more like they’d been made by a cat’s claws, rather than human fingernails.
“I’m the one who’s sorry, Tal. I know how badly I hurt you, and now I’ve given you seizures, too.” He sounded close to tears.
“The seizure wasn’t your fault,” I assured him, although it kind of was. “I helped with that Hunters’ demonstration today even though Dr. Thistler told me not to physically exert myself. And then everything with Ernest.
So when you said ...well, you know, it was just too much. I overreacted.”
“I’m so sorry,” he repeated; and when he finally turned to face me, tears were streaming down his cheeks. “I never meant to hurt you. I love you.”
Just like I’d known that he was lying earlier, I knew that he was telling the truth now. Donavon did love me; and if he could take back what had happened with Kandice, I knew that he would. Unfortunately, he couldn’t - and he also couldn’t make me trust him again. I did still have feelings for him and maybe even still loved him in a way, but I wasn’t sure that it was enough.
Luckily, I didn’t have to make any decisions tonight. In my weakened condition, that was probably for the best.
“I know, Donavon,” I replied quietly, raising our joined hands to my cheek. “I know.”
Chapter Eighteen
The next morning, I woke tightly wrapped up in Donavon’s arms; at some point during the night, he’d climbed into bed with me. The memory of my seizure washed over me when I saw the angry red lines marring Donavon’s throat.
“Hey, you,” he whispered when he felt my eyes on him. “How are you feeling this morning?”
“Okay.” I smiled weakly. “Tired, mostly,” I added.
“Why don’t you sleep a little longer?” he asked, his brows knitting together with concern.
“I can’t,” I sighed. “I have to go to Medical before I help the Captain.” I pushed the covers back.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” he asked, fingering his torn t-shirt.
“No, but I’m so tired of these seizures controlling my life. I just want things to be as normal as possible,” I said, frustrated.
“I know, Tal,” he soothed, running the back of his hand down my cheek.
“What are you doing today?” I asked, shrugging away from his touch.
Donavon let his hand fall. “Helping Dad,” he said, rolling onto his back and twining his fingers behind his head.
I crawled over him to get out of bed and started toward the bathroom.
“Want to meet me for dinner?” he called after me.
I turned the cold water faucet on and began brushing my teeth to give me time to make a decision. Did I want to have dinner with him? Before my seizure, I’d briefly hated him, but the way that he’d held and comforted me and kept me conscious during the episode made me not hate him at all. He’d sat on the floor for most of the night just to make sure I was okay.
I returned my tooth brush to the medicine cabinet and turned off the water. Peeking my head back into my bedroom, I answered, “Sure, I’d like that.”
Leaving Donavon lounging in my room, I set off for Medical. Dr. Thistler told me that she was increasing the dosage of the equalizer, again, then made me promise that I would refrain from over stimulating myself in the future. I cringed when I read between the lines and caught her not-so-subtle meaning. Like Mac, she assumed that physical contact had precipitated my seizure ...intimate physical contact.
Too humiliated to ask about Ernest, and resigning myself to a life of celibacy, I slid quietly off the hospital bed and left to promptly break the promise that I’d just made. I jogged to the cafeteria in hopes of finding something left over since I’d missed breakfast. Luck must have been on my side that morning; there were baskets of assorted muffins and bagels alongside jams and flavored butters. I quickly buttered a plain muffin with cinnamon spread and happily munched on it while I walked to meet Captain Alvarez.
Today’s demonstration would take place in the open-air Arena. An obstacle course had been set up, complete with holographic bad guys.
When I arrived, Captain Alvarez, Henri, and Erik were already there. I stuffed the remaining crumbs of the muffin in my mouth and waved a greeting. Captain Alvarez told me to get ready as the students began trickling into the Arena. I dressed in an adapti-suit just like the day before. The suits are a dark green color; but when an individual’s body heat triggers the camouflaging mechanism, the suits blend in with, and adapt to, their surroundings.
Inside, the suit’s covering is enough to protect the feet of the wearer; but since it doesn’t provide sufficient cushioning outside, I pulled on knee-high boots made of the same material as the suit. Next, I threaded a black belt holding eight small hand knives through the loops around my hips. I zipped the suit up to my neck, but left the hood down since it would be unnecessary for a training exercise. Erik and Henri were dressed almost identically, except for their weapons; two long blades crisscrossed Erik’s back, and Henri had a long rifle with a scope slung over one shoulder.
Captain Alvarez was busy explaining to the assembled students what they were about to see. Overnight, the outside Arena had been transformed to include very real looking - albeit fake - trees, rope swings, bridges, and platforms. Approximately twenty flags had been placed throughout the Arena, and the goal was to collect as many as possible in a given amount of time. The holograms would be on motion sensors, triggering when one of us tripped an alarm.
When Captain Alvarez finished speaking, he turned and gave us a slight nod. I held one hand out to Erik and one hand out to Henri. Each took hold and I closed my eyes, concentrating on both of their thoughts. Erik’s mental voice filled my head first, but Henri’s was only seconds behind. It took several more seconds before all three of our minds were linked. I released each of their hands and we entered the Arena.
“Natalia, right. Erik, left. I’ll take center,” Henri said, falling into his role as team captain.
“Got it,” Erik answered.
“Ditto,” I sent.
I, of course, managed to trip the first sensor. The hologram appeared ten feet in front of me. I didn’t hesitate: I reached for my belt, grabbed one of my knives, and the dagger found its mark, the hologram disappearing as quickly as it had materialized.
“Okay, Tal?” Henri asked.
“Yup,” I confirmed.
“Got a flag,” Erik interjected.
“Show-off,” I teased.
Carefully, I navigated my way through the next few areas of the obstacle course. I kept my eyes alert, dimming my other senses since it was not as though I would hear a hologram. I managed to uncover several flags of my own, in addition to scoring a number of points by defeating more holograms. Erik and Henri were both still working their way through their own paths. I came to a climbing wall with a thick rope dangling down the center and hand- and foot-holds off to each side. I decided to go for the rope. Approximately a third of the way up, I tripped another sensor. The hologram appeared to my right. I had only two knives left on my belt and didn’t want to waste them by throwing one from that distance and risk missing. I planted both feet on the wall and shoved as hard as I could. I swung towards the hologram at an alarming pace. I didn’t want to collide with it if it could be avoided; the holograms didn’t hurt exactly, but they gave you a strong and unpleasant shock when you made physical contact.
I struck out with the knife, releasing it from the handle when I was just inches away, and plunged it into the hologram’s chest. The hologram disappeared, and my body collided at full speed with the side of the climbing wall. The force of the impact made me groan.
“What happened, Talia?” Henri’s mental voice was full of concern.
“Nothing. I’m fine,” I grunted in reply.
“Get to the top of that wall and let’s end this in style,” Erik sent.
Grabbing one of the handholds in the wall, I released the rope. I scurried up the remaining two-thirds as quickly as I dared. The top was smooth and hard to grip, and my fingers strained as I scrambled to pull myself up and over the wall.
“Tals, be ready to jump in five,” Eric’s voice said, urging me on.
Hoisting myself the last couple of inches, I was finally able to pull my entire body onto the narrow ledge. From this vantage point, I could see the entire obstacle course. I saw Erik and Henri crouching down on one knee, and I waited for what I knew was coming. Both boys morphed simultaneously into large black bird
s with beautiful iridescent feathers and long slender beaks. One bird soared over the stands of the Arena where the students were sitting. The other bird, Erik, flew toward where I stood on the top of the wall. I closed my eyes – I hated heights – and focused on my hearing and sense of touch, listening for the quiet flapping of Erik’s wings and feeling for the slight disturbance in the air that would signal his arrival.
I crouched when I heard the wings and closed my eyes tightly in preparation to jump. Judging him to be approximately two feet out from the wall and one foot below, I leapt. I landed on my knees between Erik’s wing joints. Not the most graceful landing, but hey - at least I hadn’t missed! Rolling onto my stomach, I wrapped my arms around the bird’s neck. We flew to meet Henri and circled the Arena, flying side by side. Finally, and not a minute too soon in my opinion, we landed on the top level of the stands. I quickly jumped off of Erik’s back, thankful to have my own two feet back on the ground. The two giant birds disappeared before my eyes, and Erik and Henri materialized in their place.
When I looked down, the crowd was going wild, amazement written all over their faces. I waved and smiled alongside Erik and Henri.
“Show-offs,” I teased them even though I, too was basking in the praise of the students.
“You miss it, don’t pretend,” Erik joked back. He was right; I did miss being part of their team. Not so much the flying, though; no matter how many times I did it, I never got used to riding on Erik in bird form.
“You were amazing.” I smiled as Donavon’s voice filled my head.
“Where are you?” I called to him.
“To your right. Down. Down. Now more to the right,” he instructed. I finally spotted him, sitting in the stands with Mac. I waved and felt warmth spread through me.
“Excuse me,” I said out loud to Erik and Henri, who were still relishing in the attention of the admiring students. I made my way down to where Donavon and Mac sat.
“Not bad for someone who is out of practice, Natalia,” Mac greeted me with a backhanded compliment.