They start a second song that’s more upbeat. I turn toward Lydia, and her eyes catch my attention in an instant. She has the same dazed look that she did when we were at the concert. I turn, scanning the faces of the people seated behind me. They all have the same strange look in their eyes. Several of them, including Lydia, simultaneously fall to their knees with their hands up as if worshiping in a freaking cathedral. I feel my pulse accelerate, and I’m internally panicking. I grab Lydia as the second song ends. Her hands fall to her sides, and she looks up at me, smiling. I shake her shoulders to get her attention.
“Lydia, are you okay?”
“Mmm.” She hums, swaying on her knees, still smiling like she’s the villain in a horror film. It issocreepy.
“Ly-d-yuh,” I say, looking into her glossy eyes, pupils nearly blown. As I’m about to drag her off the damn floor, she snaps out of it.
“Lo, what are you doing?” Her clear eyes assess my hands on either of her shoulders. I pull them away, assisting her to stand.
“Wasn’t that awesome?” she asks. I run my hands down my face, confused and frustrated.
“Yes, so good,” I say back flatly. “When are the pictures?” I ask, scanning the room.
“Oh my God. Now! Let’s go. We have the first two numbers.” She scrambles to grab her purse and drags me toward the back of the studio. We walk until we come face to face with that blonde woman who put the armbands on us earlier.
“Hi. I’m Lydia Aston, and this is Sloane Keenan. We have numbers 111 and 112 for the photo op.”
The blonde woman smiles, looking at me with that same strange expression from before. She looks down at her clipboard, crossing off two names from the top.
“Ah, yes. There you are. Come on in, enjoy.” She opens the door, and my eyes flick up, immediately looking into the very familiar mask of Van.
11
Riven
I knew Sloane was going to be here. Shortly after our meeting at the coffee shop, I received a call from Sabel saying that Sonus decided to take a closer look at the outliers from the concert. Orders were given to host a last-minute meet and greet, sing a couple of songs, and make it believable with a photo op. The participants were all to wear the vital trackers on their wrists like before. Sabel explained that Sonus would instill a stronger frequency that should reach participants with a higher resistance to it. It confirmed my suspicions of Sloane being an outlier, and I didn’t like the idea of any of it. I considered arguing about the ethical ramifications, but thought better of it. I’ve seen Sabel’s bad side, and unfortunately, she knows how to get me to stay in line.
While we were playing, I was trying hard not to notice how unaffected Sloane seemed to be. When Sloane walks into thephoto op with Lydia, I try hard to be unaffected by her presence. I don’t need Sabel getting any ideas that might make Sloane an even bigger target than she’s quickly becoming. I have a gut-wrenching suspicion that the stronger frequency didn’t affect Sloane at all, and I don’t even want to consider what Sabel might do with that knowledge once she gets the results. If Sabel brought all of the outliers here to force a stronger frequency, she clearly doesn’t want anyone toremainan outlier. I have a feeling that what Sabel and Sonus are testing goes much deeper than merchandise sales and popularity.
Sloane and Lydia walk over to where the guys stand against a backdrop for the photo op. Sloane’s staring into my mask with a curious expression, but there’s a hint of fire burning behind her eyes. It’s similar to the look she gave me,professor me, in the coffee shop when I grabbed her wrist. I don’t know what I was thinking, honestly. Ineededto touch her, to feel the way her skin felt against mine. That was a mistake.
“Okay.” Ashley, our media manager, looks down at her clipboard. “We have Sloane and Lydia, is that correct?”
“Yes.” They respond in unison. Lydia is beaming, clearly ecstatic.
“Alright. We’ll have Sloane stand here next to Van, and Lydia over here next to Graf.” Ashley motions for the girls to step forward. I see Callum stiffen slightly as Lydia half walks, half jogs up beside him and links her arm around his waist. She leans in closer to him. Cal’s not exactly the “people person” of the group, so this should be fun.
It’s my turn to stiffen as Sloane heads straight for me. Sloane pauses in front of me, shifting awkwardly like she’s uncertain where to stand. The way I seem to make her nervous is … cute. I nod my head to my left to motion for her to stand there. Sloane moves into place and leans away from me and into Lydia. It seems like she doesn’t want to be anywhere near me, and I can’thelp but see that as a challenge. I wrap my left arm around the back of Sloane’s waist, pulling her into me with a little more force than I intend. She sucks in a breath, her gaze shooting up to my mask. I don’t look down at her. Instead, I move my hand just a little further down until I find the waistband of her shorts, brushing a single finger between the fabric and her skin. She shudders beside me, and I can’t help myself as I pull her closer to me. Before she can do or say anything about it, Ashley interrupts.
“Okay. Everyone look forward at the camera and smile in 3 … 2 … 1.” Flash. “All done, ladies. You can drop your armbands in the basket on the way out. We’ll send the picture to the email given at entry. You can expect it in a few days.”
Sloane doesn’t linger. She can’t seem to get away from me fast enough as she rushes toward the door. I itch to grab her, but refrain. Not here, not now. Lydia is, however, still standing next to Callum. There seems to be some strange tension between the two of them before Cal abruptly pulls away.
“Thanks, big guy,” Lydia chimes, patting him on the chest before following after Sloane. I internally laugh at the exchange. I’m sure Cal islovingthis.
The girls exit the room, and before the door fully closes, I hear Sloane say to Sabel, “Hi. I was wondering if maybe I could speak to Van, or the music producer, for a few minutes after the event.”
No. No, no, no. This cannot be happening right now. I have to do something before Sabel digs too deep, or Sloane reveals too much about her work. I don’t have time to think, so I barge out of the door and interrupt the conversation. I grab Sabel and pull her back into the room.
“Vantros, what do you think you’re doing?” Sabel runs her hands down her skirt like I somehow managed to disturb the perfect fabric in the last two seconds.
“Sloane asked for an interview. I’ll do it,” I spit out.
“Hmm.” She eyes me skeptically, raising a brow as she crosses her arms over her chest. “Why would you do that?”
“Well, um …” I pause, racing to come up with an answer. “She works for Obsidian Press, and her boss called to request an interview. She’s doing a story on the healing properties of music,” I lie. “That’s also why she attended the concert. It slipped my mind earlier when you called. I’m sorry. I meant to say something.”
Sabel uncrosses her arms and steps forward, considering me. She’s sniffing around for a lie like the wolf that she is. I can only hope that the lie was good enough to throw her off the scent.
