Page 18 of Amethyst Flame
And Dane wanted me to go back?
“That’s ahell no,” I told Dane. And then I looked at Jacob, who’d promised me that he’d have my back.Trust me,he’d said. Once a jackhole, always a jackhole. “Thanks a lot.”
Dane went on as if he hadn’t heard me. “The internship program will give you the cover you need to find out what they’re working on.”
The man made no sense.
“What internship?”
“I just explained it to you.” Dane sighed heavily. “They have an internship program for promising college students.”
“Send Jacob.” If he wanted to be a secret agent so much, lethimfight the bad guys.
“I’d totally do it if I could,” Jacob said.
“Mr. Aaron would fail the background check.” Dane glanced over at Jacob again. “There’s just too much on his record to cover up, and time is of the essence on this one. The program orientation is tomorrow.”
Time is of the essence.Only someone like Dane would say something as trite and boring as that.
“For one thing, I have work,” I told them. “For another, I’m sure they have an application process, etcetera, and that all the deadlines are passed. Sorry.”
“You are the manager of the Slushy Shack.” Dane was using his bland asshole tone. And it was Desert Freeze, thank you very much. “You have the authority to change schedules with someone at the last minute. And Jacob hacked the internship program files. Congratulations, BantaMatrix accepted you. Orientation starts tomorrow morning at nine.”
The crushing sensation inside my chest told me I had a panic attack coming on. My throat was closing, head going swimmy. I had to get away from them before I hurled. Because even though I had nothing in my stomach, my gorge was rising.
“Sorry, boys,” I said, panting shallowly as I stood. “You’ve got the wrong girl.”
And then I made a break for the bathroom.
CHAPTERFIVE
In this mirror,in this bathroom, in this cheap duplex, was where I’d first seen the purple glow of molecular robotic tech burning in my eyes.
I’d been puking the hive’s purple waste, thinking I’d ODed on pomegranate syrup. Now I knew what was wrong with me—those dickheads out in the living room manipulating me!—but that didn’t make my situation any better.
Violet lights raced around my fingers clenched on the cool basin of the sink, and I realized my hands were inadvertently forming my EldWitch VR gaming gesture for [blast]. Carefully, I released my grip.
If I was gonna blast anything, it wouldn’t be the innocent bathroom vanity.
I washed the grease off my fingers and rinsed all the bad words out of my mouth. But when I got back to the living room, only Jacob was still there.
He was hunched over his computer but glanced up when I appeared. “I’m sorry, Mo. I would infiltrate Banta if I could, and not just because I’d love to get into their servers.” With a wistful sigh, he leaned back. “I get why you don’t want to go. Dane told me how you could’ve died there, so no wonder you’re freaked out.”
I glowered at him. “Itold you that,” I reminded him. “Why’d you have to hear it again from Dane?” It was like our late-night post-nightmare chat a few months ago hadn’t meant as much to him as it had to me. I’d thought he’d understood.
He shrugged one shoulder. “I always thought you were exaggerating.”
Oh sure, I was the one with mini bots in my body, but I was still just a hysterical woman who might’ve overreacted to getting infected, stalked, kidnapped, shot at, and almost burned to death. My fingers twitched again. But zapping Jacob into a human Hot Pocket wasn’t going to improve my mood.
“I’m going to bed,” I announced. When his gaze sharpened with interest, I added, “Alone.” Pivoting on my heel, I put a swing in my hips as I sashayed away. Jacob had chosen a Life of Dane, so he wasn’t gettinganyofthis.
Since it was too early to sleep—plus I had to wait up for Mom to get home from her date—I logged on to Legendelirium. But for once, my imaginary world didn’t take me away. Instead of losing myself in my EldWitch and her fights against bog goblins in the Midnight Forest, I kept remembering the sleek glass and chrome of BantaMatrix that had almost become my high-tech tomb. So I tapped out and tried to read a book instead.
When I snapped awake before seven the next morning (see, this was why I don’t read) the house was quiet. I sneaked out into the perfect morning air. Rather than risk starting the car and attracting attention, I walked down the street, texting.
You up?
For anything, the answer pinged back to me immediately.
