Fated: The Epic Finale (Talented Saga Book 8) Read online

  I sighed. “No. Not ‘we’, me. I’m doing it.”

  Talia straightened, ready for an argument. “I’m the stronger manipulator. It should be me,” she sent emphatically.

  For a moment I wondered if she was going to turn her talents on me. It wouldn’t be the first time. Luckily, my girlfriend wasn’t that desperate quite yet.

  “I can do this, Tals,” I replied. Placing a hand on her arm, I squeezed gently. “You…you don’t understand the cost.”

  In typical fashion, she rolled her eyes. “I don’t know the cost? Are you serious? I’ve done a psychic interrogation, you haven’t. Believe me, I know that I’m about to give up a piece of my soul I can never get back.”

  “Answer one question first,” I insisted. “If it comes to it, can you kill a girl whose face you see in the mirror every day?”

  Tals hesitated. She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. “Can you kill a girl with the face of someone you love?”

  “She isn’t you.” My answer was automatic, and it was true. I knew Gracia was not my girlfriend. When I looked at her, I did see something like Tals. But Gracia didn’t feel like the girl I’d held in my arms, the girl I planned to spend the rest of my life with—however long that turned out to be.

  Finally, Talia relented and stepped back, gesturing for me to go ahead.

  “Keep her calm,” I sent.

  Tals nodded as I focused. Sensing a shift, Gracia shrank away. Or, she tried to. Tals still had her hands pinned. I closed my eyes and connected my mind with Gracia’s. Starting with the surface, I sifted through the first level of memory and thought.

  “My name is Natalia Lyons. My parents are both dead, killed because they were traitors to our cause. My name is Natalia Lyons. I went to the McDonough School for the Talented. My name is Natalia Lyons. I was a Hunter for TOXIC. My name is Natalia Lyons. My boyfriend is Erik Kelley. My name is Natalia Lyons….”

  It was hard for me to hear. Even harder for Tals, who was tuned in via our own connection. The rage that built inside of her, swift and all-consuming, at the mention of her parents made me stagger. I reached for the tub to steady myself.

  “This is why I wanted to do this, Tals. That fake version of me? He had similar thoughts.”

  “What? Am I not supposed to listen either?” she demanded. A mirrored v-screen over the sink shattered.

  “Tals. Please. Not now. Just keep Gracia calm. Please,” I sent, teeth gritted and sweat already dotted along my hairline.

  I wanted to suggest that she leave, go check on Kenly or Emma. But I wasn’t stupid. My girlfriend would have bitten off her own tongue before she’d leave that bathroom.

  “Fine,” she said aloud, though something told me I was going to pay for this later.

  It looked as though Tals wanted to say more, like maybe she was going to refuse to calm Gracia while I continued rifling through the girl’s brain. Even stewing in her anger and hatred, she knew the gesture wasn’t for Gracia’s benefit but mine. It would be much easier to find information if Gracia was at ease.

  When I turned my full attention to Gracia again, her wide-eyes became glassy and unfocused. Her pinched face smoothed instantly. In her head, Gracia was still playing her broken record of Talia’s life. I dug deeper, to the first level below the surface. Gracia winced, though her discomfort lasted for less than a second.

  She was in a classroom, keeping watch as girls and boys of all ages practiced using light manipulation. One girl managed to make her entire arm invisible, but few others had much success. Gracia didn’t think very highly of her charges. They were all beneath her, in Gracia’s humble opinion anyhow.

  In another memory, Gracia was alone in a room, staring through a window at a guy around our ages. While she watched him through the panel, it was evident he couldn’t see her. The guy was scared but trying to remain tough in the face of the unknown.

  In the surface of the glass, I could see part of Gracia’s reflection. Her real face.

  The nose was longer and thinner than Talia’s. The eyes were rounder and farther apart. Still, though she’d yet to undergo the physical transformation that would make her my girlfriend’s carbon copy, Gracia resembled Talia more closely in that moment than I had yet to see in person. The power coming off her was immense but still unruly. She couldn’t control it. And unlike other strong Talents, her power wasn’t alluring to me. Still, when she wielded compulsion, the guy in the other room obeyed.

  “Tick tock, sweetheart,” Tals sent, her mental voice sarcastic.

  Smiling—with all that had happened in the last hour or so, and her overwhelming urge to rearrange Gracia’s face, the fact my girlfriend could muster sarcasm was a good sign—I went deeper into Gracia’s mind.

  I let all my remaining mental guards fall away and gave myself over completely to Gracia’s memories. It was risky, I knew. Had she wanted, Gracia could have accessed my deepest, darkest thoughts; she could have met the demon that was hellbent on taking over and making sure I had a very toasty afterlife. With Talia acting as a narcotic sedative, the Privileged girl was too out of it to do much of anything.

  For several moments, I floated through more memories of Gracia’s time at a school. Institut pour les Privilegies. Institute for the Privileged. Unfortunately, she’d never seen the outside of the massive school. Coming or going, she’d always been blind to her surroundings. All I could glean was what she’d already told us—that the Institute was in France.

  Then, disturbing memories flew past.

  An elevator that cadets weren’t allowed to use that Gracia was very curious about.

  A place nicknamed the Frog Pond, where dismissed cadets were housed when they weren’t being used as practice dummies.

  A room of comatose people hooked up to machines that siphoned their blood.

  Both intrigued and disgusted by the practices at the Privileged school, I couldn’t say I was shocked. Mac had been ruthless. And Gretchen seemed intent on topping him in villainy. Was she hoping to convince the world he wasn’t so bad by showing us precisely how evil people could be?

  My brain felt too big for my skull, as though Gracia’s memories were filling my head to the breaking point. Still, I pushed deeper into Gracia’s mind. I hit the first true resistance and pummeled the mental wall to no avail. Gracia bucked in the bathtub, arching her back awkwardly.

  We were too connected. I was too deep in her mind. Her pain was my pain. Every time I hit the barrier, an explosion rocketed through my head. My vision went blurry.

  If you don’t get through, Talia will try, I lectured myself.

  I wouldn’t allow that to happen. I couldn’t.

  Panting heavily, my hands tightened on the edge of the tub until it cracked, and two chunks broke off in my fists. And still, Gracia’s mental armor remained intact.

  “I’m here. Use my power if you need it,” Tals sent, her voice distant and small.

  Just as I worried she might be too far away to find my way back, I felt Talia’s touch. It anchored me to the here and now, which I hadn’t realized I needed until her small fingers wrapped around mine. When I’d shot adrenaline into Kenly, the outpouring of power had been tangible. The influx of Tals’ energy was no different. It was like a bullet that tore through me and pierced the wall in Gracia’s mind.

  With Talia’s help, I chipped away at the mental concrete until there was a hole large enough for me to fit through. Shadows lay on the either side, calling to me. The shades vied for my attention like sirens leading sailors to their doom at sea.

  “Something’s off,” Tals sent, her voice louder now. “You need to be careful.”

  “I know,” I replied.

  Walking through the depths of Gracia’s mind, it was like I was truly inside of her head. Even when my mind was linked with Talia’s, when there were no barriers in either of our heads, I’d never traveled so completely into another person’s mind. I finally understood how psychic interrogators lost themselves just as frequently as they lost their victi
ms.

  From a pool of night, I heard her voice. The Dame. We’d only met a few times. Only once had I spent real time in her company. Still, I knew.

  “Erik, pull back,” Talia pleaded. “Please. I don’t feel good about this.”

  Truthfully, I didn’t either. We needed answers, though. And I was so close.

  If you leave now, Tals will end up in here, I reminded myself needlessly.

  Wading through tar-like darkness that made my progress slow and clumsy, I was barely aware of my body outside of Gracia’s mind. Tals’ hand on mine was the only physical sensation that remained. Hazy outlines came into view as I reached the other side of the black pool. As I started to climb up a rocky embankment, something grabbed my ankle.

  “Erik!” Talia shouted.

  Like a serpent, the sensation slithered up my leg and squeezed, yanking me back into the tar. I didn’t have time to utter a word before my head dipped below the surface. Muffled shouts still reached my ears and smug satisfaction washed over me along with the tar. I swallowed a mouthful of the most foul-tasting liquid ever. It coated my lungs and clogged my throat, turning to stone inside of me.

  “It isn’t real. Listen to me, Erik. It. Is. Not Real.”

  I heard Talia, but her words didn’t register right away. I didn’t fight. I had no desire to fight. My mind was one with Gracia’s, and she was pleased. She’d just been waiting for me to fall into one of her mind traps. Like the novice I was, I had played right into her plan.

  In no state to break the connection, I couldn’t muster the strength to feel my own emotions or think my own thoughts. Gracia’s feelings were my feelings. Gracia’s thoughts were my thoughts. Except, that wasn’t quite right.

  In a battle of wills, mine should’ve trumped Gracia’s without questions. Yet there had been no contest, no chance to even try before I’d been consumed.

  Not Gracia’s will, I realized. Gretchen’s.

  Mrs. McDonough was one of the only other recorded Mind Manipulators currently living. She’d trained Tals to use her gift. Though she wasn’t nearly as a powerful as my girlfriend, at least not naturally. Apparently, she’d been getting high on her own supply of the creation drug; these mind traps were no joke. Nor was Gretchen’s power.

  A sense of calm flowed through me, and I sighed. I was going to drown inside Gracia’s mind. I didn’t care. In fact, I was happy to oblige.

  “Don’t you dare give in!” Talia shouted. “Erik! Please. You can beat this. It isn’t real,” she repeated.

  Somewhere far away, back in the bathroom with my physical form, my cheek was on fire. Almost like someone had slapped me. The next blow landed in my gut. Elation gave way to panic. I couldn’t fight Talia physically, I wasn’t strong enough. A mental battle I could win, the Dame had made certain. But we hadn’t done much training aside from learning to use our privileged gifts. And this girl…this assassin hit harder than anyone I’d ever sparred against.

  My feet flew out from beneath me.

  “Fight me,” Talia growled. “Stand up and fight, dammit.”

  Fight. The instincts were there. I had them because she had them. I stumbled to my feet, but a swift kick to my hip sent me stumbling.

  “Fight or die. Your choice,” Tals snarled.

  Fight. I had to fight. Or I would die. There wasn’t a choice. I had so much living left to do.

  “Fight!” Talia screeched, sounding a little crazed even for her. “You aren’t real. You’re a shade of me. An imposter.”

  Fight. The words, the taunts…they were for my benefit, not Gracia’s. Tals was telling me to fight, or I would die. But she needed Gracia’s fight-or-flight instinct to kick in, so that mine would, too. And it did.

  As Gracia attempted to fight off Talia’s blows, I fought the tar serpent with my mind.

  You aren’t real, I hissed. I am stronger, faster, and real.

  I erupted from the pool, black sludge dripping from my hair and clothes. With several blinks, the tar vanished. The ground felt solid beneath my feet, as though the pit had never been there.

  I knew I should break the connection with Gracia, but the Dame’s words were nearly audible. If only I went a little deeper….

  “You will never be me. You will never be anyone. You gave up your identity—for what?” Tals continued to throw snide barbs at the other girl.

  To me, she said nothing. I knew why—she didn’t want Gracia to hear us. Talia was keeping the doppelganger distracted in the real world to keep me fighting and alert in the metaphysical one.

  I hurried toward the memory in Gracia’s mind, my senses in a heightened state of awareness. A soft thump, thump, thump, thump to my right caught my attention. My morphing abilities kicked in. Even in the pitch blackness, I saw the boulder speeding toward me.

  “Fight, you worthless imitation!” Talia hollered.

  It’s an illusion.

  The thought was barely complete when the boulder disintegrated. The woman’s voice grew louder, clearer. With animal-like agility, I silently ran toward the shadowy figures. Finally, only a curtain stood between us.

  It’s another trap, I thought, poised to combat whatever the madwoman threw my way. Taking a deep breath, I slid the curtain aside. Two people stood in a bare, white room. One, the Dame, I’d expected to see.

  The other, not so much.

  Donavon McDonough’s cold, blue eyes met mine. His expression was blank, as though he was empty inside. His mother had those same eyes, though she was not mindless.

  “We’ve been expecting you,” she said, the words sounding inside my head. Smile never faltering, she turned to her son. “Kill.”

  Donavon lunged for me. His fist connected with my chin. I lashed out and kicked him behind the knee. He stumbled but didn’t fall. In this weird unreality, my talents didn’t seem to work. Though, neither did his, so at least we were on even ground.

  In life, Donavon had been an excellent fighter. But I did have an advantage—I’d sparred with Talia enough to know her fighting style, which she’d learned from Donavon. When imaginary Donavon shifted his weight to his back leg—in a move I’d seen Talia do numerous times—I was prepared for the fake. He didn’t disappoint. It was that back leg that swung toward me, along with his left arm. I jumped to avoid having my feet swept out from beneath me, simultaneously bringing my knees to my chest and thrusting my legs forward.

  Admittedly, the move was much smoother with telekinesis. Without those abilities, I landed flat on my back, but so did Donavon. I sprang to my feet first and had a knee on his chest before he had a chance to move. My first punch was to his perfect square chin, payback for his first blow. But this version of Donavon didn’t feel pain. He didn’t bleed when I broke his nose. He didn’t wince when I flipped him on his stomach and twisted his arm behind his back. He didn’t groan when I slammed his forehead on the floor.

  He’s not real. This is an illusion.

  Unlike the boulder, Donavon didn’t evaporate. At least, not immediately. His head spun completely around, which was freaky enough to send me skittering backward. Not my finest moment. In his mother’s voice, he said, “No, Talia. Our relationship was the illusion.”

  Then, he was gone. So was the white room. Heart racing, I tried to get my bearings. I was in an office. At least, there was a sleek, glass desk with twelve holo-monitors up in front of it. Each screen showed a different news outlet. The volume was off, but I could read the tickers. This memory—if that was what it truly was—was from before the vote.

  “Natalia is with Madame Pritcher right now. They will land in Nice within the hour. You will be there to meet them.”

  I turned and saw Gretchen—well, a hologram of Mac’s wife—sitting opposite Gracia in a small alcove.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Gracia replied dutifully.

  “Our people will escort Natalia to the Institute.” Gretchen fixed Gracia with a pointed stare. “It will be your job to convince Erik to slip away from his handlers to come see you. Once he is free from UNITED,
Madame Pritcher will help explain our cause to him.”

  Gracia paled, clearly unease about her task ahead. “I apologize, ma’am, but I thought Erik and Talia were ready to join us, that they just needed to sneak away from UNITED?”

  Gretchen smiled serenely. “They are. They do. But UNITED has made them believe we are the enemy. They simply need to be educated. They will see the light.”

  Matching Gretchen’s tone, Gracia repeated, “They will see the light.”

  Holographic Gretchen stood, clasping her hands at her waist. “You do understand how vital they both are to our case, right? Do not forget, dear, I know all. I know you are nervous, reluctant even about what is to come.”

  At the word “reluctant”, Gracia opened her mouth to protest but thought better of it. She swallowed hard and seemed to gather herself. “I am not reluctant, ma’am. I only worry that I am not ready. That I will let you down.”

  Gretchen’s laugh was humorless. “With that attitude, you will. Natalia Lyons is never unsure. She never worries about consequences. Overconfidence is both her greatest trait and her greatest weakness. You are no longer Gracia Beaumont—that weak, pathetic girl is your past. Of all the gifts I have bestowed upon you, Natalia’s visage is the greatest. Not only do you look like her, you are her. Draw from her memories, rely on her instincts.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Gracia said, nodding her understanding.

  Pacing through furniture, Gretchen’s hologram tapped her temple. “If you do as I instruct, the world is ours. I have seen the future, and it is glorious.” She stopped abruptly and turned to glare at Gracia. “Should you fail, should Natalia and Erik not come to the Institute….” She trailed off, leaving the stench of failure hanging in the air.

  “I understand, ma’am.” Gracia pursed her lips, as if holding in a question dying to break free.

  “Natalia Lyons is bold. She cowers before no one,” Gretchen admonished.

  Gracia straightened her spine, the not-so-subtle reminder giving her confidence. “Why do we need Talia and Erik, ma’am? All those who ascend through the Privileged ranks are gifted more powers than Natalia possess.”