Free Deviation by Heather Hildenbrand Page A

remote?”
    “Yes.”
    I wait for his lecture.
    Instead, after a long silence, he whispers, “You did good, angel.”
    I raise my eyes to his. They are shiny orbs of black in the darkness. “Yeah?” I ask.
    “Yeah,” he says.

Chapter Seven
    The darkness is so complete it leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. I raise my hand in front of my face but the blackness remains undisturbed. I blink. Still nothing.
    “Ven?” Linc’s voice is low and gravelly. It echoes around us.
    “I’m here,” I say, whispering so the sound of my own voice doesn’t startle me.
    Sometimes, all I have is a flashlight and a stick. Morton gave me the stick after that first time I came through. Linc had been on assignment and I’d come alone. I was a shaking mess by the time I’d reached the entrance. It’d taken me two hours to muster the courage to leave. Titus had sent security to look for me. I’d almost blown it despite Linc’s assurances that he’d remotely masked my GPS reading.
    Now I have the scrambler. Linc made me promise not to use it unless absolutely necessary. He’s programmed it to redirect instead. “Remember how Williams ran in all crazy-eyed when he thought he lost you? Yeah, scrambling does that. We don’t want to alert the cavalry. Only divert them.”
    I agreed and let him do the fancy finger swiping—but only if he promised to show me the workings of the device later. For now, I’m just glad we were able to get away. Linc’s already told me this may be the last time for a while. Whatever’s happening with the new security head isn’t good, judging by his tone. There is plenty he’s not saying but, right now, I am more concerned with getting here and getting home safe.
    I use my stick like a cane, lightly tapping the floor and wall as I shuffle forward. I don’t like the darkness here. I don’t like darkness anywhere. It feels too unpredictable. Darkness, like memory, is the sort of thing people disappear into and never surface from again.
    After my previous trips navigating this tunnel, I should be accustomed to the pressing blackness. The dampness. The slimy walls and squeaky rodents I imagine scampering around at my feet. But it’s still just as terrifying as the first time Obadiah brought me here. I wish there was a better hiding place for them, but, so far, I haven’t found one.
    I fumble for Linc’s hand and slip my fingers through his, pulling them tight until we’re hooked securely together. Linc squeezes once, and I am reassured enough to press on. “Ready?” he asks.
    “Ready,” I say.
    “Let’s go.”
    We move slowly, dragging our feet to detect any change in the floor. My shoes, black ankle boots that lace up the side, scuff louder than Linc’s. I scowl at the sound—and that my wardrobe is not exactly ideal for a covert outing.
    Two right turns and a low overhang of metal piping later, Linc stops. There is the slightest bit of shadowed light filtering from the path that veers left before abruptly disappearing. It’s enough to create a silhouette of Linc’s features. He hovers in front of me, his body language protective even in the absence of danger.
    “Why are we stopping?” I ask, breathless from anxiety and Linc’s proximity. Now that I can see him, my senses are on alert and I am aware of how close—and how alone—we are down here in the depths of the warehouse district.
    In answer, Linc leans forward and cups my cheeks with his hands. His mouth hovers less than a breath away and he whispers, “I just wanted a minute alone with you.” His lips brush the edges of my mouth. “Is that all right?”
    I nod and wait, mouth open and eyes closed, for our lips to connect. When they do, it sends a ripple of pleasure through me. A small noise escapes me and Linc deepens the kiss. I am lost in a sea of passion and disbelief that these feelings are mine to experience. Linc’s tongue slips out to trace the inside of my lip and my knees weaken. I wrap my arms around his shoulders