Stolen Secret

by Piper Dow

  Her spirits lifted, she glided back to the bedroom and stripped off the dirty jeans. She glanced at the closed door before pulling the outfit she had bought last month out of the bottom drawer. She'd ripped the tags off before bringing the clothes home, but she had stashed them right in the drawer. Now, she slid her feet into the leggings. They were dark gray with artful cutouts arranged down the calves, and made her legs look toned. Plus, they had a pocket on the thigh for her cell phone. She pulled the cropped sweatshirt over her sports bra and inspected her reflection in the mirror. Cute. Sexy, even. She grabbed her discarded clothes to add to the load in the machine and opened the bedroom door.

  Carl had moved from the couch.

  "You said you found the guy closer than Silverton? We need to make sure he isn't going to be missed." He walked out of the bathroom rubbing his temples. His glance took in Kenzy's clothes in her hands and then her new outfit. "When'd you get that outfit?"

  She kept moving past him to the washer and tossed her clothes on the top of the load, then closed the lid and hit the button to start the machine. "I don't know, a while ago. I just haven't worn them in a while." She turned, tilting her head as she considered him. "If you want, I can pick you up something for your head while I'm out today."

  He shook his head. "Kenz, I've told you, we need you to follow them more than just one day. We need to make sure they aren't going to be missed. Roger is so close on this, we cannot mess it up because you want a play day."

  Kenzy ground her teeth and glared at him. "I haven't had a day off in weeks, Carl. I told you, this guy has a camping spot in the woods. He picks the dumpsters for food, he makes sure no one is following him when he goes back to his camp—no one is going to be missing this guy!"

  Carl was still shaking his head. "Kenz, I'm sorry. We all have our jobs to do, and every job is crucial. Are you having second doubts about how important this all is?"

  Kenzy pressed back against the closet door, her pulse quickening, and shook her head vehemently. "I know it's important!" Her heart stuttered as she watched his amber eyes turn back to muddy brown, but she couldn't leave it alone. "You get time for yourself. Why is my part the one that means no time to myself, huh?"

  Carl ran his hand through his hair, shoulders sagging. "What were you doing last night, Kenz? While I was helping Roger get the blood tests run, and that junkie was screaming and thrashing around and we were trying to keep her from smashing her brains in against the cell walls, where were you? That's right, you were here, binge watching Grey's Anatomy again. You don't think that counts as having time for yourself?" He headed back to the couch. "I'm looking out for you when I tell you this. You don't want to cross the Morganzers. Nothing good will come of it."

  Kenzy turned on her heel and walked quickly out the door before he had a change of heart. Mental health days were valid, right? At the very least she could go grab lunch at Pizzeria Regina and browse the mall for a bit. She'd bring home some meds for Carl's headache and go out later in the afternoon to track the bum down. That would be a good idea, anyway, because sometimes these guys had different routines for later in the day.

  She almost turned around to go tell Carl, but caught herself. Even if he thought it was a good idea to go later, he'd probably find other things he wanted her to do before, and she still wouldn't get any free time. Nope, she deserved a little girl time.

  KENZY SHOOK HER SHOULDERS and rolled her neck, preemptively easing the tension she anticipated. Before she hooked up with Carl, she shifted regularly but then stayed shifted for a while. Out in the open air she could find her own food, have fun riding the currents, enjoy her Shadeform. Even when she and Carl first got together it had felt like fun, working for something that would make a difference. Not anymore, though. Now, she was bored. Kenzy sighed. She did not like being bored.

  She bought two nail polishes before heading to the pizzeria for lunch. She tried to enjoy eating her pizza, but Carl's warning played incessantly in the back of her head. Defiant, she made herself finish her lunch before she left, but her day had lost the sense of elation she had tried to inject into it. She tossed the napkins into the trash bin and took her Biggie soda with her to pick up the pain meds for Carl. With all the shifting she was doing these days she needed all the calories she could get.

  She heard his grumbling before she got the front door open.

  "Carl, I brought you some medicine for your headache. I figured I would track the guy down in this afternoon and watch him into the evening, in case his routine changes later in the day," she called out.

  The closet door to the washing machine was open. Since when did Carl do laundry? She glanced in and closed the door on her way past.

  He was at the kitchen table, polishing off a slice of toast. Residue from the omelet or whatever he'd eaten clung to the plate in front of him and the counter was still littered with the pans, knives, bowls—geez, did he have to make such a mess every time he made anything to eat? She wasn't cleaning it up. She wasn't his freaking maid.

  "Did you set a bomb off?" She looked at the bits of sweet pepper he'd left in a pile on the counter next to the egg shells. "Better clean it up before it gets stuck on there or it'll be harder to get off. Here." She tossed the bag with the medicine onto the table. "I thought you had a headache."

  She backed out of the kitchen and headed for the bedroom to change before he responded. The orange peelings were still on the coffee table where Carl had left them earlier. Kenzy rolled her eyes and bit back a sharp comment. She was going to shift and get out of here, and he better have his mess cleaned up by the time she got back.

  "Kenz, thank you for the aspirin. That was kind." Carl's hands ran gently up her arms before squeezing her shoulders. His voice was rough and soft in her ear as he nuzzled into her neck. "You look great."

  A smile teased Kenzy's lips and she leaned back into his embrace. His arms wrapped around her middle and pulled her closer, his mouth trailing kisses under her ear. Maybe shifting to go watch the homeless guy could wait a little while. She doubted he had a crowded social calendar.

  Chapter fifteen

  Kelly caught a glimpse of Bizzy's curly head and lifted her hand in a wave to catch her attention. She slowed her pace until Bizzy and Tyler caught up. It seemed they were bickering again.

  "Kelly, tell him I'm right!"

  Kelly refused to blindly obey. "Probably, but about what, specifically?" Yesterday the argument had been about whether American Idol was designed to only churn out commercially viable artists or whether the show gave all talented musicians the same opportunity. Last week it had been whether science fiction and fantasy really belong on the same shelf together in the library. Secretly, Kelly thought Tyler was right more often than Bizzy, but he was such a pest she didn't want to side with him openly.

  "He keeps saying the gas stations are cheating when they advertise their prices because they do that nine tenths thing instead of posting their price as a penny more." Bizzy rolled her eyes, clearly broadcasting her disdain for such distinction. "I say it's not cheating, it's advertising. Everybody does it, like when they say something costs 9.99 instead of $10. It's psychology."

  Kelly led the way to the Dome. She shrugged, taking just half a minute to think about the question. "I don't think you can call it cheating, because it is part of the posted price. It's right there on the sign, that they are really charging 9/10 of a cent more than it looks like they're charging." Bizzy grinned, but Kelly wasn't done. "But, like my parents are always telling me, just because everyone does something doesn't make it right. It is psychological—they make you think you're getting a better deal, but you're really not, are you? If something is 9.99, it really is $10, they're just counting on people being ignorant."

  Bizzy opened her mouth to reply, but closed it again, frowning. Tyler grinned at her. Bizzy swatted at him. "Oh, go away, Pie. She didn't agree with you, either."

  Kelly smiled, warmed by the banter. It was their second week of class. Kelly still felt low-level
butterflies in her middle when she allowed herself to dwell on the number of Shades that might be surrounding her at any given moment at the Center, but she was largely able to push that thought away with direct interactions. Bizzy and Tyler helped, partly because of their bickering. Kelly couldn't help but see her own relationship with Wayne in the siblings.

  Tim and Brad were just going in when they reached the door. Tim reached backward with one arm to hold the door open for them. Inside, Ashley was bouncing on her toes near the gym door.

  "I think we might be doing the ropes course!" Anticipation poured off her. "Mr. Staples isn't in there yet, but there's something in there that looks like a huge ladder going up to the platform."

  "Shoot! I was hoping we would get to use the outside course today." Drew, the guy with the toothy grin, had come in behind Tyler.

  "It's cold out!" Bizzy shivered theatrically.

  "Yeah, cold, but not wet," Drew said. "We need to take advantage of days like today, if you want to be able to use the outside course."

  "The outside course is undergoing some repairs," Mr. Staples said, walking into the foyer from a door to the side. Kelly thought his office might be behind the door. "So we're going to have to make do with the inside course for now. I'm hoping the repairs will be completed before the end of the session." He opened the door to the gym and ushered them in. The ladder Ashley had described consisted of six-foot long beams as the rungs, connected by cable sides about seven feet apart.

  They discarded their belongings on the benches at the side of the gym and gathered in a loose circle around Mr. Staples for the ice breaker to start the class.

  "You've all had a week and a half to get to know each other a little bit. I'm going to make things a little awkward here, hopefully in a good way. In our society, we don't usually tell people unless they are very good friends or close family, and sometimes not even then, when we see admirable qualities in them. This class is about learning to be better. If you are able to learn about each other, see each other as fellow travelers with strengths and weaknesses much like your own, you will find it easier to be tolerant with each other."

  Kelly joined the rest of the class in shooting uneasy glances around the circle. Mr. Staples had said the physical parts of the class wouldn't be the most difficult. Was this what he was talking about?

  "Can't we get a few beers in before we have to get all touchy-feely with everyone?" Tim whined. Laughter sprinkled through the group as his comment broke the tension.

  Mr. Staples smiled. "Great segue, Tim. I'll start—you have a great sense of humor. Ashley, go ahead, what have you found about Tim that you can compliment? These need to be specific qualities, no 'he's a great guy' statements. We're going to be vulnerable here. Let's be honest with each other."

  Ashley froze, her face a mix of embarrassment and mild panic. "He...well, he..." She cleared her throat. "He's gallant. I mean," her face grew red, "like, he holds doors open. He has nice manners."

  Drew was next. He batted his eyes and grinned at Tim. "I love you, man!" He waited for the few chuckles elicited by his sappy comment to fade. "But, seriously, you're a real team player."

  They went around the circle, each person complimenting Tim on a strength. Bizzy offered that he was willing to make sure everyone felt included, and Tyler said he appreciated Tim's knowledge of blues music. Kelly suggested that he was able to keep his humor funny, not mean. By the time they had gone all the way around, Tim looked both embarrassed and pleased.

  The took nearly an hour to complete the exercise for everyone. Bizzy said she thought Kelly was courageous. Drew said she was a quick thinker. Kelly raised her eyes to Tyler's face as the turn to speak passed to him.

  "Kelly doesn't judge people." He met her gaze unblinkingly. "She makes me want to be a better person."

  Kelly felt oddly buoyed as Mr. Staples sent them to get harnesses on and head up the ladder. The exercise today focused on strength and teamwork. The goal was to reach the platform as a team, using the giant beam ladder. Once at the top, they would be free to roam, so the faster they achieved the platform, the more free time they would have on the elements.

  After they had spent time climbing among the ropes and elements at the top of the course, Mr. Staples called for them to return to the floor. "Okay." Mr. Staples slapped his hands together. "Throughout any adventure based course, you'd be acting as one team, working together to accomplish a goal. We use that method here, as well, but we're going to add in some Training Center elements specific to Shades and Lights."

  Kelly's breath caught in her throat. Through the sudden buzzing in her ears she forced herself to exhale, slowly and quietly, and take in another breath.

  "Focus on your feet. Feel the floor below them, feel how your socks and shoes feel on them."

  Kelly turned her head, expecting to see Bizzy murmuring the low instructions in her ear. Her eyes met blue and brown eyes at her shoulder instead. Tyler.

  "Focus on your feet, how they feel," he insisted quietly. "It'll help to ground you."

  Mr. Staples walked to the other end of the benches, hands clasped behind his back. "You know that we are split almost even in terms of Shades and Lights. You Shades have probably already picked out who is who in that regard. What you don't know is what anyone else's experience has been."

  Kelly stared at her feet, breathing carefully, in, out. In, out. She moved her toes, feeling the seam of her sock against the pinkie toe on her right foot. Her left shoe fit more snuggly than the right shoe did. She took another breath, relieved to find it easier.

  Mr. Staples turned and headed back to Kelly's end of the benches. "Some Shades have been made to feel like freaks or worse by Terats, or non-Shades who don't like the idea of the Shadows. Some Lights were exposed to the Shadows in less than ideal situations. Tomorrow we'll set up the parameters on how we're going to get to know each other on a Shadows level with those things in mind."

  Chapter sixteen

  Kenzi flew to the grocery store where she had first seen the guy poking through the dumpsters. She wasn't hurried. She was sure his calendar wasn't full—they never were. Plus, she was tired.

  It wasn't that she wasn't getting enough to eat. When she'd told Carl she needed more calories or she couldn't do it anymore, he'd arranged a food delivery. Sure, she had to cook it, and clean up after, but it beat those stupid mice.

  "Carl, how many snakes does the lady at the pet store think you have? You can't keep buying them there."

  "I told you I wanted to let them breed, then we wouldn't have to buy anymore, you'd have your own, locally grown, free of pesticides and growth hormones..." He'd tried to tickle her, make it into the joke he clearly thought it was. She wasn't having it.

  "Carl, I want steak. I want a big ol' burger, with tomato and lettuce and a couple of pickles. I want chicken tenders. I'm sick of just eating in Shadeform because you want to save a few bucks!" She had barely stopped herself from stomping her foot. Instead, she'd taken a moment and managed to say, sweetly, "you have to put gas in the engine if you want it to run, right, Carl?" Turning his own phrases back on him always had a way of getting her what she wanted.

  No, this fatigue was from the constant shifting, back and forth, back and forth. Carl's answer to this, of course, was to just stay in Shadeform for a few days at a time, but Kenzi couldn't talk in Shadeform. She half-suspected that her not talking might be one of the reasons Carl suggested it, but she wasn't going to go days without talking.

  All the shifting, added to all the flying, since she had to go to towns that would never be connected to them if anything went down, and her body was just fatigued. She was losing more feathers than she thought was normal. Kenzi wondered idly if a body only had a certain number of shifts in them before they wore out. She'd needed to throw her jeans through the dryer twice to get them to fit snug, and then they got loose faster than they usually did.

  She flew in a circle around the grocery store parking lot and the woods behind it without seeing the g
uy. She knew, after watching him for weeks days, that he had different color hoodies but he always wore the same coat over them. She wasn't worried about recognizing him.

  She headed to the street and followed it to where she had watched him hop over the rail that first time. He was pretty smart, she'd give him that. He didn't take the same way to his camp every day. She could still see the trails he followed, but he hadn't made deep cuts in the brush like some people might.

  It had snowed sometime during the early hours. Just a dusting, but enough to cover any footprints he might have made yesterday. Kenzi flew lower, aiming for a branch on a pine tree a few feet inside the edge of the woods. He was usually up and moving around by now, but maybe he'd decided to take it easy today. She'd head to his camp and spend the day up close and personal.

  She followed the same way to the camp that she'd followed the first day, gliding between the same trees, pausing on the same branches. She liked to test herself, see how exactly she could replicate a day's route. This time she missed just one tree—but that was understandable, because the snow made everything look a little different.

  Kenzi could see he hadn't been moving around his camp this morning, because the snow around the tent entrance wasn't disturbed.He hadn't used his cook fire yet, or gotten anything from the cooler he kept hidden under the lower branches of some sapling pines a little ways from the tent. She had been impressed with his set-up the afternoon she'd gone for pizza at lunch, with how he separated his stuff and covered his tracks so that if someone did find some of his belongings, they might not find everything.

  Now, she cocked her head and listened, waiting. She should hear him moving. Was he sick? Was he holed up because of the snow? Kenzi would, if she could—she didn't love the cold and snow just made life more miserable, but it hadn't stopped him before. She couldn't hear any movement inside the tent.