It was like there were hundreds of people out there, whispering. Thank God the cell door was locked… Although it was ridiculous to feel safer because I’d been imprisoned. I wasn’t dangerous. Was I? What could they all know and I didn’t?

  The whispering intensified, and it seemed to be about me. I caught the words rainbow and light and new. It was simple deduction to work out I was the only new person here with rainbow-colored hair being held in the dark. But I was the talk of the cell block.

  I paced and dozed then dozed and paced, over and over, as the seconds ticked by…

  I’d never spent so long in the dark. It was so beyond draining.

  I made another lap around my cell, stopping to peer out the large window. I pressed my hand to the glass, wishing for some way to sleep longer than ten minutes at a time.

  A blue light flared outside, and the guy who had leaned against his window before appeared in front of me, his image hazy and bleeding at the edges. He pressed his palm against the window of my cell, over the place where my hand was resting, and he flickered like energy was all that was holding him there.

  A jolt of power worked through me before receding, replaced by a warmth I’d never experienced before.

  Sleep, the voices whispered, and the sound echoed in my head.

  The image of the guy disappeared from in front of me, and darkness crowded the hallway once more. My head had been stuffed full of cotton and real thoughts didn’t even permeate the gauze now in my brain. I walked numbly to the bed, not needing to feel my way. My feet just carried me there.

  I lay on the mattress without even undressing. I only took my clothes off when I felt safe, and cotton-brained or not, I didn’t feel safe here, and nothing about this place compelled me to think differently.

  I covered a yawn. At least I couldn’t hear the whispering anymore. Everything had fallen silent after I had heard the command to sleep.

  I curled my knees up, my legs nearly overhanging the narrow bed. Then I closed my eyes and released my iron grip on consciousness.

  thirteen

  Iwoke, groggy and confused, so I kept my eyes closed. The light inside my cell seemed different. What the hell time was it? Why hadn’t the sun come up?

  I opened my eyes to darkness and a tongue that had been coated in sandpaper in the night. When I swallowed, it didn’t help. My body ached. Had I been run over by a semi, too? I shifted in my narrow bed and rolled off, landing on a hard floor. Sleeping on the god-awful cot-joke-for-bed-thing had turned me into a walking crick in the neck. At least I wasn’t wearing handcuffs anymore. I’d managed to keep myself unshackled for now.

  “Ow. Shit.” I rubbed my sore hip as the rest of my memories of the previous day rushed back.

  Suited men in sunglasses, a huge building, and dark.

  So much dark. Now trapped in a cell.

  A scuffling noise came from beyond the partition and I instinctively made myself smaller and less of a target. When the noise stopped, I lifted my head and waited before peering around the partition.

  Low-level lights shone in the corridor outside, enough to illuminate something new in my room. Not room. Jesus Christ. It’s a jail cell! Now I was thinking it was like a hotel. Damn Coop and his accommodation.

  I crept forward. The tray beckoned, the aroma of some sort of food drifting toward me. Well, possibly food. I couldn’t be sure. Maybe something that a group of people considered passed as food, anyway. Whatever opening someone had pushed it through into the cell wasn’t visible. Probably hidden the same way they hid the doors all over ‘The Facility.’

  As I approached the window, the light in the corridor flickered out, plunging me back into gloom. It was like the lights had sensed my presence. I missed the Sweetwater sunshine, the sound of the beach, the warmth, and the happiness stemming from it all. The obsession with keeping me in the dark, figuratively and literally, perplexed me. Why? What did it matter?

  I reached for the food tray, hooking the edge more by luck than judgment, and dragged it across the floor toward myself. What fresh hell had been served up on the institution tray?

  I patted my hand across the contents. Something greasy and bread-like, something greasy and meat-like, and something greasy and rubber-like. I had some sort of version of eggs, sausage patty, and toast, perhaps. I pushed the tray away. I didn’t want it.

  But my stomach gurgled. Part of me wanted it. How long had it been since I’d eaten? Since before the kidnapping… I scowled. No, since before work. Had I even had breakfast the day before? Painting… remembering I needed to go to work… coffee… I wasn’t sure.

  With a sigh, I hooked the tray and drew it back. There was a drink on here I hadn’t noticed. A swallow or two would help sort out my scratchy throat and sweaty-sock tongue. I used it to help get some of the cardboard food down, too.

  The latch on my door clanged, and I pushed my tray away. I jumped to my feet and held my hands out like I might karate chop someone. I’d suck at it, but the chance to vent some frustration would have been a fine thing. Though, the closest I’d ever come to learning karate was watching old movies where the underdog usually triumphed.

  “Good night?” Coop’s hushed tone filled my cell. He really was a different man in here.

  I shook my head then remembered he couldn’t see so I scoffed instead. “In here? You must be kidding me.” Only… was I lying? I’d slept great after being put to sleep by the blue light guy, actually. Woken up confused and achy but not tired.

  I had bundles of energy now. So, maybe not bundles but enough to get on with whatever I’d been dragged here for.

  “Come on. We need to get upstairs.” Coop exited the cell as he spoke, and I followed him.

  I eased out and crept over the threshold, surprised he wasn’t cuffing me or handing me a pair of blinder sunglasses. We walked along gloomy corridors lined with cell after cell, and many of them had a face pressed up against the glass. I tried not to meet anyone’s eyes. I didn’t know where the whispers had come from the previous night.

  The lights flickered out for me the same way as they had the previous night, drenching me in darkness as I passed beneath each bulb and only lighting up again once I was too far to see anything in the glow.

  I suspected the light fixtures had to have someone controlling them, maybe someone observing through a live video feed. The idea that the lights sensed me and shut themselves off didn’t make any sense. They didn’t go dark for any other people I’d met. But I also suspected the darkness wasn’t as simple as mental warfare shit. Somehow, they felt like the darkness made them safer when I was around. This reasoning still left me in the middle of a case of mistaken identity.

  I glanced to the side. Coop walked closer to me than he had the previous day, turning his head to every cell we passed as if he could see the occupants within. When we finally stopped, we faced an empty wall, but he didn’t place his hand on it anywhere. Instead, there was a rustle of fabric, and he found my hand, then pressed something into my palm.

  “Put these on,” he commanded.

  I closed my hand briefly around the sunglasses before settling them into place on my face. My shoulders drooped. Damn. So much for the freedom of no shades. But I’d do anything to avoid a repeat of yesterday—anything to reach whoever was running this place. At least this pair didn’t seem as dim as yesterday’s pair.

  The elevator door swooshed open, and, suddenly, I could almost see clearly. There was light in here, although it was muted by my shades. I stood quietly by Coop. I had nothing to say, but he kept glancing at me like he had something on his mind.

  Just as he opened his mouth, the elevator doors parted. I imagined the corridor beyond was stark white, but the sunglasses dimmed my actual impression of the space. As with everywhere else I’d seen, there was no furniture, and this area smelled almost… medical.

  “Am I in the hospital wing?” My nose twitched at the familiar antiseptic odor.

  He didn’t answer. He remained half a step ahead of me as he walked briskly down the hallway. His shoes struck the smooth, hard floor in rapid staccato rhythm, and I hurried to keep up.

  “Where are we going?”

  But he was back to his non-talkative self. He stopped in front of a door, then knocked and waited. At least this one wasn’t hidden in a wall. At some signal from inside, he lowered the door handle and pushed it open, ushering me inside first.

  The room contained a desk with a computer, an examination table, and various pieces of medical equipment. A tiny niggle of concern stirred my stomach, and the sausage patty puck of worry turned into a boulder in my middle.

  A man stood from a padded, leather-looking chair behind the desk, with the hint of a smile on his face that looked impossibly youthful. His sandy blonde hair had been neatly arranged, and he had shining blue eyes trained on me.

  His scrutiny wasn’t as soul-reaching as Coop’s, though. I didn’t feel like this man could extract my inner secrets with a well-aimed gaze.

  His easy smile widened enough to show teeth, adding wholesomeness to his youth, and he held out his hand. “You must be Meira. I’m Dr. Anderson.”

  I glanced quickly at Coop, who’d taken up an at-ease position by the door, his feet shoulder-width apart, his hands clasped behind him. His head was turned, his gaze averted, like he was looking out of the window, but awareness prickled down my spine. Part of me knew he still watched me.

  “Do I need a doctor?” I asked no one in particular.

  Dr. Anderson laughed, and the sound was unexpectedly melodic, filling the room with deep notes of his pleasure. “Oh, Meira,” he said.

  When he didn’t expound, I scowled at him. “Why am I here?”

  No one else had answered the question, but maybe this guy was more approachable. He certainly gave off friendlier vibes. When I looked at Coop again, his jaw had tightened, and his knuckles were white where he held his hands together.

  “My colleague and I have some very exciting news for you, Meira.” Dr. Anderson pitched his voice low as he used my name again, and a shiver of apprehension flitted through me. “Unfortunately—” He broke off and gestured to a seat in front of his desk as he returned to his own chair.

  I braced for what came next. I was in a facility, this was a doctor, and there was an exam table behind me. Apprehension wasn’t the half of it.

  He cleared his throat. “Where are my manners? Do sit down. Sadly, my colleague can’t join us today, though.” He leaned forward, and his chair creaked sharply. “But we’ve been searching for you for a very long time. In fact—” He steepled his fingers under his chin as his gaze turned probing. “We’d almost given up hope that someone like you existed.”

  I didn’t take the offered seat. The apprehension inside me was replaced by foreboding, and my chest hollowed. Someone like me… But I wasn’t anything special. I wiped my hands against my pants, mostly to allow myself some thinking time. Dr. Anderson’s words made no sense at all. I swallowed and cleared my throat.

  “Uh…” It wasn’t my most eloquent start to a sentence. “I’m so—” Damn, I’d nearly apologized. I didn’t owe these people anything like an apology. They kidnapped me. I flipped my hair, trying to look more irritated than casual. “You didn’t realize small-town hair colorists existed?”

  If I hadn’t known better, I would have sworn Coop snorted, but he coughed discreetly behind me instead.

  “I mean,” I continued, “there was an easier way to get an appointment with me than straight-up kidnapping.” I ground my teeth a little as I spoke, my jaw suddenly tense. “Like a phone.”

  Another cough from Coop.

  “You didn’t even have to leave whatever this place is,” I gestured to the room around us, “until your appointment day.”

  This time, the doctor laughed, the almost-calculated toss of his head suggesting he didn’t fully understand my anger—or he was choosing to ignore it. “I see you’re still not convinced,” he murmured.

  “Convinced about what?” The words exploded from my mouth, and I brought my hands down on the front edge of his desk. “Nothing that has happened to me since I was removed from my workplace has been explained to me. What am I supposed to be convinced of?”

  “Oh, Meira.” He sighed my name again, but his habit of repeating my name was creepy now. It made me want to vomit on his old-fashioned desk planner.

  I leaned forward, more than ready to flaunt my frustration, and I reached to take the sunglasses off. Why the hell did I have to wear these all the time, anyway? “This is getting ridiculous,” I spat. “I’m not doing this anymore.”

  Dr. Anderson reacted like I’d tasered him. He paled, pushed against his desk, and the office chair rolled two yards backward at speed.

  “Agent Cooper,” he barked, fear coloring the tone of his voice as he ducked and covered. “Get the lights. Turn off the lights.”

  I looked to Coop. What? What was their thing with the lights in this place? “Why am I being kept in the dark? All the time.” I ripped the sunglasses away, and Dr. Anderson gasped as I whirled away from him to watch Coop.

  Instead of walking toward the light switch, Coop slowly approached me with his hand held out like I might turn feral at any moment. Then he removed his own glasses, and his piercing blue eyes locked with mine.

  “It’s okay, Meira.” He used his soft voice, the one that almost instantly relaxed me. He took my hand, clasping my fingers against his palm as he continued to speak. “It’s okay. You just need to listen to Dr. Anderson. I’ll keep you safe.”

  I pulled on my hand, but Coop didn’t let go. The more I tugged, the tighter he held on.

  “I’ll keep you safe,” he repeated.

  And, for some reason, I believed him, and I allowed him to slide the sunglasses back over my eyes before he positioned a chair for me. This time, I sat down, and Coop took up a new place to stand directly behind my chair.

  Dr. Anderson looked up, his features marred by a frown, his cheeks stained with a soft red blush. “Is she under control now?” He directed his question at Coop, but I didn’t glance behind me to see Coop’s reaction.

  Coop didn’t say anything though, so I assumed it was one of his brusque nods. I should have hissed at the doctor. Or jumped at him. Or anything to scare him. The thought of Dr. Anderson hopping around his office to get away from me nearly brought an unexpected grin to my face.

  But under control? The words echoed in my brain, and I clamped down on the mirth. I gritted my teeth again. Back to the whole zoo animal thing along with those ridiculous cells downstairs. Plus all the dark. Did they think I was a nocturnal zoo animal?

  “Meira.” Dr. Anderson leaned forward, but only slightly, and he kept his voice hushed and his eyes rounded as he watched me. “You. are. very. special.” Now he was speaking to me like I was a child, and I almost expected him to gesture alongside his overly enunciated words as well.

  I sat back and watched him, safe in the knowledge he couldn’t see my eyes when I narrowed them. All I had heard was bullshit.

  He seemed to take my silence as a good sign, rather than me just waiting him out, and he continued to speak. “You’re very rare. Perhaps the rarest of anything else in our collection.”

  My mouth twisted. What the—collection?

  He hesitated. “That we have here.” He shook his head and smiled slightly like he was asking forgiveness. “It’s not a collection. I misspoke. Forgive me. But you… You…” He shaped the air in front of him like he was cupping my face between his hands. Like he might just lean forward and kiss me, and I bit back a gag.

  His hand fluttered in front of his chest. “You might be the last of your kind.” His eyes shone brightly—a feverish type of excitement.

  Then I chuckled, the dry sound harsh in the room. “Really.” It wasn’t even a question. Just one word to form a flat statement.

  “Meira.” My name again, but this time coaxingly. “Please. You’re a rainbow mage, able to wield rays of light and do magic.” He looked at me like I needed to be impressed with him for figuring out my secret, but I laughed harder before abruptly stopping and shaking my head.

  “So that’s why I’m here? Because you believe I can do magic?”

  He nodded.

  “Magic?” I repeated.

  He nodded again.

  “Do you hear yourself?”

  Dr. Anderson frowned.

  “Am I prisoner here because you’re deluded?”

  Coop stiffened slightly behind me, his change in posture communicating itself in the air between us.

  “Oh, not at all. Never a prisoner,” Dr. Anderson said. “You’re an honored guest.”

  I shook my head again and clucked my tongue. “But Dr. Anderson⁠—”

  He lifted his head. “Yes?”

  “I’m housed in a cage.”

  He blinked.

  “And I don’t believe guests are kept in the dark either.” Honored guest, my rainbow ass.

  He laughed this time, but the sound was soft, like he had a secret. “But you’re potentially our most dangerous guest, Meira. Your rooms are kept dim on purpose, your access to light limited by those…” He indicated his own eyes. “You may be permitted to access light only with careful supervision.”

  fourteen

  Before he even gave me chance to absorb all of the crazy he’d just spouted, he clapped his hands briskly together like I was lagging behind him on a tour. But I was still stuck on the last thing he’d said.

  “You’re going to restrict my access to light?” As I spoke the words, they sounded absurd. But what else had they been doing this whole time? Darkness everywhere, shutting off lightbulbs as I passed by, sunglasses. “That’s actual torture, right?”

  The doctor shrugged. Perhaps like he didn’t know. More likely he didn’t care.

  I raised my glasses and glanced around his room again. Unlike last night in the waiting room, where everything had looked basic and utilitarian and possibly a little flimsy, this room had the faint aroma of wealth. I’d bet my life his desk chair wasn’t some sort of pleather. It looked the real deal. And his carefully casual clothes had probably cost him a fortune at some upmarket department store.

 

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