Talent to Burn (Hidden Talent #1) Read Online Free Page B

blame the pizza.” The lie sounded pathetic even to me. I didn’t want to undress in front of him, and if we had to run in the middle of the night, I didn’t want to be running in my underwear.
    “Seriously though, did your dreams tell you anything?”
    I bit back a sigh. Another one. He didn’t know how much of a sore point this was for me. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you—my dreams don’t tell me anything. Yes, I dreamed about Eric, yes, I dreamed about a fire. No, there weren’t any details that are predictive of anything or would be useful to anyone.”
    “Have you tried hypnosis?”
    “I’ve tried everything. Or rather, they tried everything.” I looked away from him, down at the blankets, and squeezed my arms around myself. I wouldn’t cry in front of him.
    “Sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” His voice was quiet.
    I felt off kilter for many reasons—being asked about the dreams was the least of them. It was odd to have someone there when I woke up screaming. It had been years, and the last time it had been my dad.
    “I’m going to wash my face.” I needed to clear my head and take a step back from Jamie.
    He glanced over at the old-fashioned clock radio as the hour flipped over with a click. “It’s about time we got going anyway, if we’re going to meet the plane.”
    “The plane? I thought you said you had a friend who would help.” A shiver of cold ran through me. Planes meant documentation, which I didn’t have. And flying, which I’d never done.
    “I do. He happens to have a plane and that’s how he’ll help us. And it will make it harder for them to follow us. We can fly direct to Vegas.”
    Oh. “No tickets or anything for them to trace, huh?”
    “That’s right. It’ll also make it harder for Ryder to follow our scent.”
    I shuddered, imagining the blond man sniffing the air in this room after we’d left it. How much would he know about what I’d felt, thought, seen?
    The sooner we could lose our tail, the happier I’d be.
     
     
    When we got to the airfield outside Seattle, Jamie’s friend waited for us. A tall guy in dark glasses walked out from behind the hangar, said hi, then merely gestured at the plane and headed for it himself. Jamie did not introduce us. I stifled the awkwardness. We were trying to sneak out of town, after all, and it would probably be easier if this guy never even knew my name.
    Wow. I was hardly an expert but the plane looked more like “private jet” than “crop duster” to me. Clearly, Jamie’s friend wasn’t short of a buck. Was this standard operating procedure for the Order? Anonymous credit cards, private planes? I could get used to this, but the big budget reminded me unpleasantly of the Institute. I wondered where the money came from.
    Once on board, I held the armrests of my comfy leather seat in a death grip.
    Jamie stretched out in the seat next to me. “Bit nicer than the Greyhound bus, don’t you agree? Do you want a drink?”
    I nodded. “It’s better than the bus. I’ll have a double bourbon.” That ought to help the nerves. He rose and fetched it from a small bar without comment and I tossed it back as he sat down next to me.
    “That was fast.” Jamie leaned over and bumped my elbow gently. “Not a good flier? You’re pale as hell.”
    “I don’t know.” I put down the empty glass and went back to gripping my armrests.
    “We’re still on the ground. You don’t need to hold on just yet.” He raised one eyebrow, considering. “What do you mean you don’t know?”
    “Those of us that live under the official radar don’t exactly fly a lot. I never had the money, anyway. Bar work and international jet-setting don’t exactly go together.” Yes, I had no Talent. No, I had no money, either. Today was not a great day for my ego.
    “You’ve never traveled?” Jamie twisted himself around in his seat to look at my face.
    “I didn’t say that.” I wriggled, uncomfortable under his