Chapter 16 - Linnea

As I start to tell Aris about the vision I had, I realize I haven't shared one with another person since I tried to tell my mom about the carpool vision. I don't realize the weight that's been on my chest, keeping everything to myself, until I start to tell Aris and feel it lifting, letting him take on some of that weight for me.

I've been living with these visions for so long that I forgot it was even possible to tell someone else. I think back through the years and wonder what it would have felt like to have someone I could share them with—if I wouldn't have felt so overwhelmed and depressed.

"Trees were blooming with cherry blossoms everywhere. I could smell them," I say. "I know there are lots of places with cherry blossoms, so it's not very helpful, but they just really stood out to me. There was a nice breeze, and behind the building was… A river? I think?"

Aris's face is incredibly serious, and he's listening to me like he'll be tested on it later.

"There was a sign at the front, but—I usually can't read stuff in the visions. I don't know why; it's like I can't focus enough to see the letters or words. There was nobody around outside, which was weird. But I went inside the building, it was strange. This security guard took some things from me I didn't even know I had—a phone and a gun—and then scanned my eye. He seemed really annoyed with me that I didn't know what he wanted, but he couldn't talk to me or anything. He mostly grunted."

A wrinkle forms in Aris's brow and he leans forward. I try to keep my eyes on his face, but they keep drifting down to his arms, how they're flexing, his abs rippling down into the boxers he's thrown on. My hands itch to reach out and touch him, feel his warm skin under mine, but I have to keep going with the story.

"He pointed me to a set of stairs, but I didn't climb them right away. I stopped to look at this—this sphere up on the ceiling, with a bunch of little lights on it. It was beautiful, but when I have visions, they have a way of pushing me along. I didn't have a chance to really look at it."

"Was it a globe?" Aris asks, tipping his head down and looking up at me. I blink, pulling back a bit, surprised. Aris knows the place I saw in my vision?

"It—yeah, I think it was. I could make out the countries. I remember I found North America. I was trying to figure out what the different colors—"

"I don't mean to rush you," he says, his voice coming fast and clipped, "But I really need to know what happens in the rest of the vision."

I swallow, not liking the intense look on Aris's face. Like he might stare a hole straight through my head. From the expression he's wearing, it looks like he's recognizing some elements of what I saw. I think again of myself, bleeding out and screaming, and wonder if Aris will be able to see through me, be able to know through our bond that I saw that terrible thing happening to myself.

"I went up the stairs," I say, tearing myself free from my thoughts and taking another sip of the water, though it does nothing to soothe my raw throat. "As I did, I realized it was a really, really big place. While everything was happening, I could also hear you. I knew you were holding me, but it was like trying to see you through a fog."

"I was trying to wake you up," he murmurs, and I wince, thinking about what I must have looked like to him, writhing around and screaming like that.

"I went down the hallway, and I saw this big glass door slightly open. So I stood outside and listened. There were two voices—one old man, I think, and another that I recognized."

"What were they saying?"

"The old man said, ‘You haven't sent the rest of what we agreed on,' and ‘If I'd known you were going to be this stingy, I wouldn't have dealt with you in the first place.' He sounded really mad but also scared, and he was coughing a lot."

"Did he say any names? Or mention a team name? Anything like that?" Aris is up off the bed now, pacing back and forth in the space between the bed and the wall. He reaches up and puts his hands on his head, and I watch the muscles in his abdomen move with his breathing, which is coming faster and faster.

"No, but—the other voice, the one I think I recognize, he said, ‘You weren't complaining about the priceless gift I sent you just last week,' and ‘As soon as you get your people out of my territory,' and he was laughing."

"Fuck," Aris snaps under his breath. He moves to the other side of the room, starting to pull on his clothes. "Keep going. What else did he say?"

"Why? What does it mean?"

"I can't tell you right now," Aris says, looking pained, "But you telling me this is more helpful than you know. You could be saving this team right now."

"The older man, he said, ‘I'm working on that… Apparently, one of my operatives has a convenient hide-out in the area—"" I pause, trying to remember the exact words, "And something about coordinates. He said, ‘I don't know what they took so long to come through,' I think."

"Did anything happen after that?" he asks.

I can feel the rage rolling off Aris, so potent it's almost like it's my own emotion. I put the backs of my hands to my cheeks to cool them, trying to calm my own heart, which is starting to beat as fast as his. I clench my jaw, feeling frustration building in my chest.

Thinking of the room at the end of the hall, my body, the screaming, the blood soaking through the sheets, a shudder of terror goes through me. Aris is across the room, muttering under his breath and yanking on his shoes, and luckily, I don't think he notices my reaction.

I make a quick decision—I'm not going to tell him about that part of the vision. I don't want him to get sidetracked from his mission if he's thinking of protecting me. I've never been able to stop something that happened in a vision, anyway.

"No, nothing happened after that," I lie, waiting for him to call me on it, to somehow know that I'm not telling the truth. But if he can feel that I'm scared, it probably just feels like a logical reaction to the situation and wouldn't tip him off that there's something else on my mind.

I watch him, scanning his face. He looks worried and furious, chewing on his bottom lip furiously. I want to reach over and smooth it out, help him calm down, but I'm not sure that's who we are to each other. When Aris glances up at me again, I realize there's something I didn't tell him about the vision.

"Okay," he says.

It's clear Aris recognizes the building and the man in my vision. I remember the final piece and chew on my bottom lip, not wanting to add fuel to his fire. I stand, going to him and putting a hand on his bicep.

"There's something else, Aris," I say when he stands from lacing his boots. His eyebrows shoot up, wrinkling his brow. I want to reach up and smooth it out, but I'm too nervous.

"What else could there possibly be?" he says, almost laughing to himself like it couldn't possibly get worse. He scrubs a hand through his hair and glances at the door. It's obvious he's anxious to get out of here and go to his team.

"The other voice. The one the old man was talking to."

Aris's face darkens. In his haste to get dressed and get out of here, he clearly forgot about that part. I swallow, not wanting to tell him, not wanting to see the expression on his face. Though I don't know Aris's connection to this building or the people inside, his feeling of betrayal is strong enough that I can infer.

"That other voice… I knew it immediately. Kind of high-pitched. Cruel. Aris… It was Varun."