Free Stunned (The Lucidites Book 2) by Sarah Noffke

long black eyelashes at me. “If you need me to give you a bit more attention in order to stay then all you need to do is dress provocatively.”
    I laugh. “Whose attention I could have really used was Joseph’s. Will you please keep an eye on him? I’m worried.”
    Samara lays her hand on mine. A gentle squeeze. “Yes, of course.”
    “Thanks,” I say, sounding exactly how I feel. Wounded.
    “When?” George’s voice is rough. “When are you leaving?”
    I look at him directly. He’s mirroring my emotions again and it’s enough to almost make me fall apart. “The twenty-seventh,” I say, shoving tears to the bottom of my being. “I’ve got to get to work,” I lie and rush off from the table.
     
    ♦
     
    The Panther room is the only place that holds a real mission for me these days. A new apprehension creeps into my thoughts as I settle in at my station. I brace myself to see something devastating, something about Joseph, or something about someone else I know. However, what I actually see is ordinary and not at all disturbing. It’s a scene of a man in a black knit cap playing chess with another gentleman. The entire exchange is neither terrifying nor of obvious importance to my life, unlike my recent visions. For that I’m grateful. Other than a few oddities, what I witness appears to be a typical game of chess between two people.
    After several minutes the man with the black knit cap moves a chess piece across the board and smiles at his opponent. “ Échec et mat ,” he says. I don’t speak French, but I’m pretty sure he’s just won the game. Then he swivels and looks directly at me, where my “camera lens” is anyway. His wrinkled face arranges itself into something between a smirk and a scowl. “Are you enzertained? No?” the man says, looking too pleased with himself. A laugh like a car’s rattling engine. “You von’t get anyzing from me. So off vitz you.”
    I stiffen with sudden dread. This man knows I’m there spying, just like that awful girl in the previous vision, but how?
    I awake from this report feeling exhausted and a complete failure. After I input this information I’m not the least bit surprised when the results say, “Information unverifiable.”
    My mind combs over the report I just logged. Who are these French people? What do they have to do with the Institute? They seem so familiar and yet also a complete mystery. I sink deeper into these curious thoughts trying to find a pattern, a clue I’ve missed. Do the French people have anything to do with me? What’s their connection to Ren? Nervously I tap the elevator button a dozen more times than is necessary. What’s the connection? Why do I get the impression these people are more than just deranged? They’re fatally dangerous.
    The elevator doors are almost closed when a hand reaches in and forces them back open. Aiden steps in, but doesn’t give me the slightest look. I straighten with dread. Once the elevator begins to ascend he steps forward, scans his key card, and presses a few buttons. The elevator halts swiftly. Stuck. Aiden turns and faces me, his sapphire eyes intense. Breath hitches in my throat.
    “You can’t leave,” he says, arms crossed.
    “I can and I will,” I say, regaining my composure.
    “This is ridiculous. You belong here,” he argues.
    “How do you know where I belong?”
    “The Institute needs you.”
    “No it doesn’t.”
    He searches me, looking injured. I can’t believe he even has the audacity to speak to me.
    “And since when did you care? You’ve got your projects.”
    “I’ve always cared,” he says, pushing his dark brown hair out of his eyes. The air grows stiff in the tight space. “Don’t do this,” he urges. “You’re trying to push me away. You’re running.”
    “You know,” I say, taking a sip of air, “this might be a surprise, but this isn’t about you. I’ve got other reasons, better than you, for wanting to leave this corrupt place.”
    Scorn