Chapter Twenty-One
White Ravens
Gage
Roz led Gage to the medical wing.
“You good?” he whispered near his ear.
“I’m fine.”
Roz made that familiar sound when he knew he was lying.
Gage chuckled, “I’m just focused, okay.”
“M’kay.”
“I want to do good,” he said, surprising himself. “Not what I thought was good when I was sixteen and my dad took me to nursing homes to host Bible study, or my weekly Meals on Wheels duty. I want to help save nations, Roz.”
Roz didn’t laugh or tease him.
“I always believed there was a greater purpose for my life. But I was stupid, and made a grave, impatient, egotistical mistake.”
A surge of gratitude filled his spirit.
“Now, I’ve been given a second chance to fulfill that purpose.”
Roz slowed a fraction. “You really think you can partner with Scar?”
Gage didn’t answer right away. The question had merit. Not just because Scar was Scar. But because Gage could still feel the imprint of Scar’s hand when he was half-sedated and clutching onto him in the medical wing.
“I’ve never had a problem with Scar,” he said.
Roz’s laugh lacked humor. “Well, he damn sure had a problem with you.”
Yeah, he had all that aggression and heat, but never once acted on it.
They reached a set of doors that opened with a hydraulic whisper and a melodic chime sounded when they walked inside.
Roz inched closer to him.
“Gage. Mateo. Good evening.”
Dr. Aliyah Rockwell didn’t sound like the average stiff lab coat. Her voice was competence wrapped in reassurance.
The closer she got, the more her clean botanical scent overrode the stench of antiseptics.
“Good evening, Dr. Rockwell,” he said, forcing a halfhearted smile.
“Dr. Rockwell.” Roz’s greeting sounded more like an accusation.
“Still overprotective and untrusting, I see. Good. I like that in a handler,” she noted before moving on. “Gage, Jo tasked me with compiling the best specialists from all over the world, and I believe the team we’ve assembled here will exceed all your expectations.”
Dr. Rockwell began to introduce everyone.
“This is Dr. Sanja Mehta, neuro-ophthalmology,” she said.
“Good to meet you,” a male voice responded, easy and sure.
“Dr. Lucia Bennett, retinal imaging and ocular trauma.”
“Good evening.”
“Dr. Jonah Pierce, low-vision rehabilitation.”
“A pleasure.” His tone was so deep it was startling.
“And Dr. Keira Womack will be teaching you Braille. She has a PhD in special education with a specialization in visual impairments.”
“I look forward to working with you, Gage,” she said cheerfully. “Call me Keira.”
Five specialists, all for him. It was almost too much attention. But it also made him grateful to Jo, who seemed genuinely concerned for his well-being, just as she said.
“How long does it take to learn Braille?” he asked, already overwhelmed.
He’d failed miserably at the two languages he’d tried to learn in high school, German and Spanish, which were supposed to be two of the easiest. He wasn’t in the mindset of failing the one that could improve his life.
“Most adults take about six months to a year to become fluent,” Keira said. “Writing it usually comes a little later.”
Gage’s shoulders dipped—a year.
“But,” she continued. “That’s for the average learner.
Your tactile sensitivity is exceptional and well above baseline.
And your memory retention is—no exaggeration—off the charts.
With the strategies I use and the way your brain is already overcompensating, I expect you’ll be reading independently in eight to ten weeks. ”
Gage blinked. “That fast?”
“That fast,” she confirmed. He could hear the smile in her voice. “Fluency will improve over time, but you won’t be helpless or dependent. You’ll read labels, messages, and notes. You’ll move through the world without waiting on someone else to describe it for you.”
He nodded slowly. “Okay,” he said. “I can do eight weeks.”
Dr. Rockwell took back over, “We’ll run a few basic assessments. Nothing invasive. No needles. No sedation. We’re not here to take anything from you.”
Gage flinched anyway, out of reflex.
“Nah, he don’t need no tests,” Roz butted in.
“Mateo,” Dr. Rockwell said, steel tinging her gentle tone, “Gage needs to reclaim his life, and knowledge of his abilities is a part of that.”
Gage could feel his friend vibrating with the urge to argue.
Dr. Rockwell softened. “Gage. Face me, please.”
He turned toward her voice.
“I know you don’t trust us,” she said quietly.
“But I want you to hear and believe this. Nobody in this facility…in this entire program, is allowed to experiment. Not on you….not on anyone. We treat, we rehabilitate, we train. That’s it.
If one of the Raven’s ask for more enhancement, only then, do we provide it. ”
Gage could hear Dr. Rockwell gritting her teeth.
“And stoking fear in him, Mateo, is not helpful.”
Roz still didn’t let him go.
“Valor came to see me last night,” she added. “He told me, very politely, that if anyone under my direction ever violated your consent, he would make me disappear so thoroughly that my name would become a rumor.”
Gage let out a small, disbelieving huff.
“It’s fine, Roz. You can go, Corvo’s waiting on you. I’ll be okay here.”
“If you’re sure,” Roz muttered.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” he said, meaning it.
Dr. Blackwell waited for Roz to leave before she continued, “So, today is simple. We’ll check your pupillary responses, eye surfaces, inflammation markers, and intraocular pressure.
We’ll do some retinal and optical imaging after that.
And last, we’ll test your balance and spatial mapping, auditory localization, and your reaction times… the cool stuff. Okay?”
He nodded.
Dr. Rockwell gave some instructions to her team as she linked his arm inside hers.
“Let’s get started.”
The tests were as easy as she promised.
No restraints. No hidden syringes.
Just machines that hummed, clicked, recorded, and physicians who asked permission each time before touching him.
When they were done, Dr. Rockwell explained her findings.
“Your ocular damage is consistent with chemical pressure trauma, the surfaces are dry and aggravated and your optic pathways are angry.”
“But your brain is offsetting fast. Remarkably fast. Your enhancement profile is”—Keira gasped—“off the charts.”
Gage let out a slow breath. “So what does all that mean?”
“It means you’ll need therapy and training. And that starts with orientation and mobility.”
Before he asked what that consisted of—Gage sensed him.
He inhaled and stilled at the presence easing closer.
Potent masculinity with a trace of something satisfying clinging to him.
Gage turned his face toward the shift in his air.
Someone new was standing behind him, someone that hadn’t been introduced yet.
“Hello, Gage.”
The man’s voice was peaceful. Not flirtatious. Not fake. Just…soothing.
“I’m Adrian Shaw,” he said. “Your orientation and mobility specialist. I’m the one who’s gonna’ teach you a ton of tricks that’ll make your life easier. Meaning, you and I will be spending a lot of time together.”
When he took his hand in his, Gage liked that his grip was confident without being controlling. His skin was smooth and warm, and his voice…his voice had a sexy bass to it that Gage didn’t realize he appreciated.
Maybe because it reminded him of someone.
“I promise I’m not going to bore you by keeping you in a classroom for hours a day,” he said. “You’ll learn while you live. Taking back your independence in real time.”
Gage smiled. “That sounds…fine.”
“Good,” Adrian said, with the smile in his voice. “Because class starts right now, and for our first lesson, we’re going on a field trip.”
“I hope it ain’t the planetarium. That bored me to death in school.” Gage’s mouth twitched. “The only fun part was Giselle Tucker putting her hand between my legs.”
Adrian’s laugh came out low and manly, the kind that made Gage want to keep hearing it.
“Okay. Sense of humor is intact. That’s going to help a lot.”
“So, where are we going?” he asked.
Adrian slid Gage’s hand into the crook of his elbow with practiced ease. He felt strength there, lean muscle under soft fabric.
“We’re going to test your environmental reading and reaction skills to echoes, climate, and crowd noise,” Adrian explained as they began walking. “It’ll allow me to gauge how you adapt. But I can already tell you’re far ahead of the curve.”
Gage frowned. “How do you know?”
“Because you haven’t bumped into a single corner in this wing. Not once. And you’re counting steps without realizing you’re doing it.”
Hmm.
They moved through the building, and Gage listened to everything Adrian said as though his life depended on it…because it did.
The hall changed from medical-clean to public-clean. The scent of people increased. Fabric. Perfume. Coffee. A noticeable ozone smell from all the electronics.
Adrian kept a steady pace, never yanking or rushing him, and he narrated only what mattered.
“Door on the left. Two people crossing ahead. Floor texture changing in eight steps.”
Gage’s confidence crept upward slowly.
They walked outside and the temperature drop filled his lungs with winter briskness. He realized they were in a garage by the resonance and contained smell of exhaust.
He was almost excited for his lesson until a feeling like a heavy hand pressed against the back of his neck.
Gage stopped so fast Adrian almost stumbled into him.
“What are you feeling?”
His stomach tightened like a knot being pulled tighter, until he could barely breathe around it.
“I don’t know. There’s someone else here,” he whispered. “It’s like…I feel eyes on me.”
Adrian leaned in and whispered, “Your instincts are phenomenal.”
“Am I right?”
“Yes.”
His pulse stuttered. “Who is it?”
“It’s your partner. He’s a couple of rows over, in the backseat of the Black Ravens’ SUV…and Meridian is with him.”
Gage didn’t move.
“Both of them are watching us.”
A car door opened and Adrian placed his hand at the small of his back, guided him inside, and closed the door.
The cabin sealed him away from the cold, but not from the feeling.
Adrian got into the driver’s seat and started the engine, creating a low vibration under his feet.
Gage turned his face toward the pressure, toward Scar.
It was strange the way he could feel him. Not by his scent or sound…but by the gravity of his presence.
In his old life, Scar’s attention had felt like danger, like footsteps closing in behind him.
Now it was more thrilling.
“You ready?” Adrian asked, breaking into his thoughts.
Gage faced forward. “Sure.”