Page 81 of White Noise

The monitor distorts around my shape first, the image bending as static spreads across the glass and the signal starts forcing me through. One hand comes first, then my arm, shoulder, chest, the rest of the body following until both feet hit the floor.

By the time I straighten, Saga is already standing.

She doesn’t run.

The last time I came through, she fought for distance. Now she stays where she is, watching me settle into the room with the same guarded curiosity she uses when she is trying to understand something dangerous without admitting she is fascinated by it.

Her gaze moves over me slowly.

She notices the difference.

“You’re stronger.”

“Yes.”

“Because of Void or whatever?”

“Partly.”

Her expression darkens at the name, but I don’t care enough to soften the answer.

Saga’s attention drops to my hands, then rises again. “So what now?”

I step closer. “Now we stop talking about it.”

That wipes the smug little curve off her mouth.

I close the remaining distance and catch her chin, letting just enough current bleed through the contact to make her breath hitch. She recovers quickly, but not quickly enough to hide it.

“Still sure?”

Her eyes sharpen.

“You ask a lot of questions for something that acts like it already knows everything.”

A low laugh slips out of me. “I know enough.”

“Cocky.”

I smirk,“Accurate.”

She tries to turn her face out of my grip, so I tighten it just enough to stop her, and her gaze snaps back to mine.

That defiance is still there, but so is the hunger underneath it.

Much better.

I let my thumb drag once along her jaw before stepping back.

Saga frowns.

“What?”

I move toward the desk instead, reaching for the first cable hanging loose beneath it.

Her eyes follow my hand to the cable, then slowly lift back to my face. Suspicion tightens her expression, but she doesn’t move away. She’s watching me too closely for that, trying to work out what I’m going to do before I do it.

“What the fuck are you doing?”