Divine Wrath, page 12
So quiet. Like cotton stuffed in her ears. The same muffled oddity applied to her vision, as though someone had washed the world in hot water and the color had bled from everything. In fact, all of her senses seemed diminished.
“Grace?”
The voice came from her left. It wasn’t Megan.
“Grace, are you awake?”
She didn’t want to hear that voice. It belonged far away from her, in California with the party boys and snooty tabloid fodder. She rotated her head and stared dully, unable to tap into the fury building inside. “Kendra.”
“Oh, Grace! I’ve been so worried about you.” Her mother’s hand-wringing antics choreographed like a bad camp movie. “Didn’t you see all the posters? The interviews? I wanted you back.”
“You’re with them. SARET.” Her numb lips barely cooperated. “You bitch.”
Kendra recoiled, paling beneath her perfect salon tan. “How did you know about them?”
“Where’s Megan?” Though she still felt deficient in the hearing and vision department, Grace’s emotional state experienced a sharp rise.
“Who?”
“Megan. The girl I was with. What did you people do to her?”
“Really, Grace. ‘You people’?” Kendra sighed and affected a wounded look. “This is actually a wonderful, beneficial group. They’re going to help you.”
“You haven’t answered my question, Kendra.” Grace jerked at her cuffed hand. It didn’t budge. The other hand had been similarly restrained; her ankles too. “Where is she?”
“She’s safe. In another room, with her father.”
“Stepfather.”
Grace attempted to read her mother’s thoughts. Nothing happened. She couldn’t even remember how she’d done it before. At last, her murky mind noticed the needle in the back of her left hand, held in place with white tape. Black liquid filled a line leading to a pole stand. The stuff Megan’s stepfather gave her to suppress her abilities. She tried to influence the IV controls. Nothing.
“Why?” Grace whispered. “Why are you with them? What’s in it for you?”
“Not a thing, except the chance to help my daughter.” Kendra put on her media-darling smile. “I donated the camp and all the Adirondack land to them, and I didn’t tell a soul. Not even to claim the tax break.”
“How benevolent of you,” Grace said through gritted teeth. “Do you even know what they think? What they do to people like me?”
“Of course I do. They’re going to help you live a normal life. Isn’t that marvelous?”
“I don’t want to be normal. I want to be left alone.” Grace twisted her left hand, trying to dislodge the needle. “And they’re not going to help me. They’re going to slice me open and try to harvest whatever it is I have.”
Kendra laughed, a hollow saccharine sound. “Ridiculous. It’s strictly research and rehabilitation.”
Grace stared at her mother. Either the woman had been brainwashed by this cult, or she knew exactly what they intended to do—and condoned it. Would Kendra Carrington actually be willing to sacrifice her own daughter for the vague promise of “alien” power? Grace wouldn’t put it past her. However, without the ability to read her thoughts, she couldn’t tell for sure.
“Look. This black stuff is really messing me up. Can you take the needle out?”
“Oh, no. I couldn’t. It’s part of the program.” Kendra appeared close to contrite for an instant. “It will help you get back to normal. Here, I’ll show you.” She turned away, rummaged in a small purse tossed on a chair beside the bed, and produced a powder compact. She flipped it open and held it in front of Grace. “Look at your eyes.”
Grace looked. Someone had removed her contacts. Her own green eyes stared back, a shade more brilliant than the average person, but no longer glowing. Just normal. Exhaustion and a dull terror lurked in their depths. Her reflection pleaded for help.
She knew it wouldn’t come from Kendra.
“I have to go.” Kendra snapped the compact closed. “Michael will want to know you’re awake.”
“Michael?” Grace croaked.
“Yes. He’s the leader. Incredibly accomplished for such a young man. He’s quite the charmer, isn’t he?” Kendra’s lips curved in a wicked smile.
Dull weight settled in Grace’s stomach. “You’re sleeping with him.”
“Now, Grace. A lady never kisses and tells.” Kendra scooped up her bag and moved toward a door across the room. “Michael is a little worried about you, but I assured him you would be reasonable. You will, won’t you, dear? If you behave, they’ll let you eat dinner with the others.”
Don’t call me dear, you bitch. “Others? What others?”
“The other children, of course.” Kendra swept from the room, and closed the door.
Children? Jesus, how many had these people kidnapped? Sorrow for Megan washed over her. The girl had to be crushed, finding out her so-called boyfriend ran an organization that wanted her dead. It had been a trap from the start.
Grace set her mind to other matters. Somehow, with or without their abilities, she and Megan had to get out of here fast.
Chapter 31
Grace slept on and off. She tried to stay awake, to plan, but her heavy eyelids refused her desires. She suspected the drug contained a mild sedative, along with an addictive component and whatever it was that thickened her senses and rendered her abilities null. Time passed. At one point during a blackout, someone apparently removed the IV needle. Eventually, the door opened. She recognized Lou from the train station in Chicago.
He stopped beside the bed, stared at her eyes, and seemed satisfied. “Gonna take you downstairs for dinner. Boss says to tell you don’t bother running. Everybody’s got permission to shoot to kill with you. A’right?”
“Whatever.” Grace knew she’d have to cooperate, at least for a little while. At least they didn’t seem eager to operate on her. Yet.
Lou produced a sparse ring of keys and unlocked the cuffs. He lowered the bed rail and moved back like he’d just opened a tiger’s cage. “You can walk, can’t you?”
“Guess we’ll find out,” she muttered. She sat up, slid her legs off the bed, and stood. Didn’t fall. “So, what’s for dinner?”
“Dunno.” Lou’s face reddened, and he turned to face the door. “I’m not in charge of cooking.” He stepped out of the room and waited.
She joined him and looked around, hoping to gauge the general layout. The room she’d been in opened to a balcony hallway overlooking a vast, open area with a loft ceiling. At the far end of the hall, polished wood stairs doubled back along the balcony and turned at the midpoint to descend in a gentle arc. The floor of the area below incorporated a sunburst pattern laid in light and dark wood, glossy and glittering in the evening sun that streamed from an open bay window opposite the stairs. Art so ugly it had to be expensive adorned the walls. In short, the place reeked of her mother’s money.
Grace grimaced inwardly, and decided to keep Lou talking. “What are you in charge of, then?”
He shuffled toward the stairs, shrugged. “Security, I guess,” he said without turning around. “Not just me, right. Lot of us.”
“How many of you are there?”
Lou stopped short, and turned to glare. “Never mind. Quit talking. Follow me.”
Damn. It hadn’t taken him long to figure out she was sniffing for information. Lou didn’t seem too bright, so she assumed these people were under orders not to answer questions. Whatever she discovered, she’d have to find on her own.
He led her down the stairs, and back through an ornate carved doorway under the balcony. The vestibule opened on both sides: kitchen to the left, dining room to the right. Voices and clinking dishes drifted from half a dozen occupied chairs around a massive oval table. Spotting Megan among them wasn’t hard. She was the only one with blue hair.
Lou pointed. “Go on, help y’self. Remember what I said about running, huh?”
Megan turned at the sound of Lou’s voice. A brilliant smile lit her features beneath non-luminous eyes. “Grace!” She stood, rushed across the room, and enfolded Grace in a welcome hug. “No one would tell me where you were,” she whispered near her ear. “I thought they left you back there.”
“No. I’m here.” Grace glanced over her shoulder and glowered at Lou, who lurked in the doorway. “Are you all right?”
“Sure. At least they’re feeding us.” Megan released her, stepped back. “You’d better come and get something to eat. Here, sit with me.”
Grace approached the table. The conversation had stopped, and five pairs of eyes stared at her. Other than her and Megan, there were three boys and two girls. None looked older than seventeen. Nothing unusual about them, except the beauty and near physical perfection they all possessed. All flawless skin, silken hair, and faultless proportions, without a trace of adolescent awkwardness. No pimples or gangly limbs. No oily complexions or stringy tresses. Grouped together, they appeared caricatures of humans. Designer models.
The youngest, a strawberry blond boy of around eleven or twelve, spoke first. “You’re old.”
“David!” The girl next to him, an auburn-haired beauty with sapphire eyes, cuffed the back of his head. “Just ignore him,” she said with a smile.
“Well, she is.” David shot the girl a narrow-eyed look and shoved a forkful of mashed potatoes in his mouth.
The girl rolled her eyes. “I’m Dawn. David’s my pain-in-the-butt brother.”
“I’m Grace.” No sense using a fake name here. If she tried, Kendra would correct everyone anyway. And she didn’t plan on staying long.
Megan sat across from Dawn and patted the empty chair next to her. “Okay, let’s see if I can remember everyone,” she said as Grace settled in. “We’ve got Dawn and David. Evan, Bailey, and... crap.”
“Crap?” the last boy echoed. “Okay, but I’d rather you call me Ace, since that’s my name.” He grinned, flashing teeth as white as his hair was black. “Nice to meet you. And David’s right for once. Nobody stays here past eighteen. Kaden turned eighteen two days ago, and he left last night. You gotta be what, twenty? Twenty-one?”
“Actually, I’m almost nineteen.” Grace tried to keep her expression neutral, but Ace’s blithe statement chilled her. If that was true, she probably didn’t have a lot of time before these people took her apart.
“Practically a hag.” Bailey, blonde and buxom, giggled and picked up a glass from the table. “Just kidding. Hi, Grace. Welcome to the family.”
Grace detected a hostile note in Bailey’s tone, confirmed by the warning gleam in her pale violet-gray eyes. “Thanks.” She realized Bailey viewed her as competition. Maybe these kids didn’t have any physical flaws, but they weren’t lacking in the teenage hormone department.
“Lay off, Bailey.” Evan, a light-skinned teen with thin black cornrows who hadn’t even glanced up after Grace’s initial entrance, locked gazes with Bailey for an instant and looked away.
“The zombie speaks!” Bailey shrilled laughter, and Evan’s complexion darkened. “You should feel honored. Evan’s not sociable.”
Grace watched Evan for a moment. He looked like the oldest one here after herself. The plate in front of him appeared clean, as though he hadn’t eaten anything. Even without her abilities, she sensed isolation in him, a self-imposed distance from the others.
Evan raised his head. His brown eyes met hers. And Grace forgot how to breathe.
Megan nudged Grace, jolting her attention from Evan. “You need to eat,” the girl whispered. She reached for a nearby serving bowl, scooped mashed potatoes and plopped them on an empty plate. “Ace, can you pass the chicken down this way?”
“Hey, you remembered my name!” Ace grabbed a serving platter piled with portions of grilled white meat, drizzled in a pale beige sauce and garnished with deep green parsley sprigs. He held it toward Megan, and his grin resurfaced. “Only I don’t think that’s chicken.”
“Yeah,” David chimed in between mouthfuls. “I bet it’s kangaroo. Or rat meat!”
“Gross! Knock it off, guys.” Dawn heaved a long-suffering sigh and wound a curl around her finger. “See what I have to put up with? Don’t worry, it’s chicken. I saw Dorinne making it.”
Megan located a pair of tongs and transferred two portions to Grace’s plate. “I think there’s carrots here somewhere, and steamed broccoli. The biscuits are gone, though.”
“You snooze, you lose.” Ace pointed to a platter dusted with crumbs. “Too bad. They were good today.”
“This is fine. Thank you.” Grace picked up a fork and poked at the potatoes. She wanted to ask a hundred questions. Did Megan know about Michael’s betrayal? Did any of these kids know why they were here? She doubted they did. No one’s eyes glowed, so they must all have been drugged with the black stuff. She wondered how many of them actually knew about their abilities, and why they thought SARET had taken them in. Had they come willingly?
She couldn’t ask any of them. Not with Lou glowering in the shadows.
More than anything, Megan concerned her. If the girl did know about Michael, she was hiding it well. And if she didn’t, she was in for a nasty shock.
Grace swallowed a forkful of potatoes. They should have been delicious — they were real, not instant, buttery and lightly seasoned, whipped smooth, and still warm. It was like eating glue. She put the fork down and frowned. She had to know. “Megan,” she whispered. “Have you... seen Michael recently?”
“Michael.” Megan paled, and her hands started to tremble. She clasped them together and forced them into her lap. “He’s fine. I’m sure he’s fine.”
Grace stared at her barely touched plate. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
Megan shot to her feet. Her chair toppled and clattered to the floor. “No, you shouldn’t have!” she shouted. “Don’t say anything about that! Just don’t!”
The others, who had fallen to bantering among themselves again, fell silent and stared at Megan. Tears pooled in the girl’s eyes. She shook her head and blinked them back. “You don’t know. I can’t. They...” She glanced at the entrance to the dining room, and her mouth firmed. “Damn. Grace, I’m sorry.”
Footsteps behind her. Grace turned to find Lou and his buddy Kyle approaching. “Sorry, kids,” Kyle said. He pulled Grace’s chair back and gestured for her to stand. “Your new friend here needs a little more rest than we thought. Come on, girl. Back to bed.”
Grace gained her feet before Kyle could force her. She didn’t have to read his mind to understand the vengeance in his eyes. She glanced at Megan, and for an instant thought she could read her, too.
You have to cooperate. So do I. It’s too soon.
Shuddering, Grace followed the men out of the room. She didn’t look back.
Chapter 32
When they reached the stairs, Kyle stopped to let them pass and fell into step behind Grace. Lou opened the door to the room she’d been in. He stood back, an awkward expression on his face, and didn’t look at her when she entered.
Grace headed straight for the bed. She didn’t bother resisting the inevitable cuffs. Once she’d been strapped back down, Lou turned to leave. He stopped when he realized Kyle wasn’t following suit. “You comin’?”
“I’ll be down in a few,” Kyle replied. “I need a word with little Miss Carrington.”
Frown lines creased Lou’s forehead. “You ain’t supposed to hurt her unless she tries to run. She’s bein’ good, Kyle. Don’t be a jerk.”
“I’m not going to hurt her. I just want to talk.” Kyle flashed a reassuring smile. “You’d better go check on the others. This won’t take a minute.”
Grace listened to the exchange with mounting concern. Being helpless and alone with Kyle probably wouldn’t end well for her. If she were any judge of character, he seemed the type to be more upset about their escape than the injury she’d inflicted on his arm. She had wounded his pride, and he wanted to return the favor.
“All right,” Lou said slowly. “Jus’ take it easy, huh?”
“You betcha.”
Lou glanced at Grace, stepped out, and closed the door.
Kyle said nothing at first. He watched her intently, as though he expected her to attack, or maybe disappear again. When she failed to evaporate, he moved to the door and listened.
Grace turned her head toward him. “Whatever you’re going to do, could you get on with it? I’m tired.”
“You are? Oh. Poor baby.” Kyle advanced, unsmiling. “I’m pretty wiped out myself. Been flying all over the damned country, looking for Dr. Jones’ precious little girl. I finally find her, and some freak cuts me and takes her away. How about that?”
“Gee, that does sound unpleasant.” Cooperate. Great idea. Throwing his sarcasm back in his face wasn’t exactly cooperating, but Grace couldn’t think of anything better.
“I had to get ten stitches. I don’t like stitches. I hate needles.” Kyle stopped beside the bed. “What about you, Grace? Do you like needles? You’re in for quite a few of them. Not as many as the others, though.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Kyle grinned. “He’ll have to rush you through things and get you out of here fast. You’re already old enough. Fine with me, because I don’t want to look at you any longer than I have to.”
“Why are you still in here, then?”
“I just want to make sure we understand each other.” Kyle fingered the end of the strap that bound her left wrist to the bed rails. “You’re a freak, and I’m not. I’m in charge, and you’re not. I know Lou told you about the shoot-to-kill order. Let me assure you that if it comes down to it, shooting you won’t break my heart. I’d suggest you be real careful about doing anything suspicious.”
Grace stiffened. “Suspicious. And that would be...”
Kyle’s arm shot over the bed rail. His hand clamped on her throat. “Just stay out of my way, girl. Keep your head down, and don’t try to stop us. Understand?”
