Stolen Secret

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Stolen Secret Page 13

by Piper Dow


  Kelly took two seconds to glare at Mike before stalking after her.

  "You were the cat, in the back of the van." Kelly sat where she was directed and studied the woman before her. Her face remained impassive. She was slender, but her energy and sure movements convinced Kelly she was strong and capable. Well, that, and the fact Kelly had seen her Shadeform in action the other night.

  "Mike said you know about the Shadows. I don't smell Shade on you, though, so it's not you." She slid the remote for the collar into her shirt pocket and moved to a small sink to wash her hands. She grabbed a handful of paper towels to dry them, then quickly set out a rubber strap, a number of test tubes, and a needle on a table in front of Kelly's chair. "Roll up your sleeve."

  Kelly eyed her, gritting her teeth, before reluctantly obeying. She didn't want to make anything these people wanted to do any easier, but she also didn't want that button pushed again.

  Maria grabbed her arm and scrubbed the inside of her elbow with an alcohol wipe, tied the rubber strap around her bicep, then searched for a vein at her elbow. She picked up the needle and slid it into Kelly's arm. She frowned and wiggled the needle, apparently searching for the vein she had missed.

  "Ouch!" Kelly tried to tug her arm back but the woman's grip was strong.

  "Sorry. But just so you know, the more you struggle, the harder this is to do. I have to get your samples, so you'd do better to stay still." She stayed focused, trying to work the needle into a vein. Finally the tubing connected to the needle filled with red, and she taped the needle into place. She worked deftly, switching and capping the test tubes she had lined up.

  Kelly watched in horror as a lump appeared under her skin where the needle was inserted, swelling as Maria took replaced one tube with another. Her stomach churning, she forced herself to look away and take deep breaths, pushing the nausea away.

  Roger and Mike were both inside the cage with Matt. Roger was kneeling next to Matt, but Kelly couldn't see what he was doing because the metal cart he had brought in with him blocked her view. Mike stood watching, head lowered and feet set apart. Alert. Kelly realized he was prepared in case Matt had been faking, trying for a chance to escape. She rolled her eyes and sniffed scornfully. If she needed more proof that these people were not medically trained, this would qualify.

  She felt Maria pull the needle from her arm and glanced down. Blood beaded where the needle had been and rolled down her forearm. Maria cursed and grabbed a couple of gauze squares, slapping them onto the wound.

  "Hold this and press down," she ordered, then grabbed a paper towel and wiped the floor where a few drops of blood had spilled.

  Kelly pressed the gauze squares and bent her elbow gingerly to staunch the flow, her stomach queasy with the feeling of the swelling under her fingers. Maria's gaze flicked to the cage as she hurried to clean up the area. She moved fast, grabbing bleach wipes from a cabinet next to the sink and rewiping everywhere she had wiped with the paper towel, then returned her attention to Kelly's arm. She folded up another gauze square and nudged Kelly's hand out of the way, slapping a bandage over the square of gauze to hold it on. "That'll do for now."

  Maria busied herself with the tubes of blood. Her attention bounced between Kelly and the men in the cage. Kelly didn't dare get out of the chair, knowing how close Maria's hand was to the collar's remote, but she studied the lab and the equipment she could see.

  There were binders arranged neatly on a shelf, and a small table covered with pages of handwritten notes, but the rest of the lab was scrupulously spotless. A framed portrait of a man wearing an old-fashioned suit and glasses hung on the wall above the microscopes. Kelly leaned forward to read a silver label on the bottom of the frame. Thomas Hunt Morgan. Hmm. Nobody she had heard of.

  She turned her attention back to Maria. "What are you doing with all this?"

  Maria returned her attention to Kelly, her mouth twisting thoughtfully. "How do you know about the Shadows?"

  Kelly met her gaze without flinching, though inwardly her mind raced. Was Maria just avoiding Kelly's question by asking a question of her own, or were the two subjects related? Kelly certainly wasn't going to tell her about Mark, because she suspected the two might have been connected somehow.

  "I have some friends, they're brother and sister. They are Vulpies," she hedged.

  Maria came closer, still scrutinizing Kelly. "So, you're a Light?" At Kelly's nod, she nodded thoughtfully. "These friends of yours, have they ever mentioned how few of them there are?"

  Kelly shook her head. She didn't try to hide her confusion. "What do you mean? I know they have another sister, but that's not a small family."

  Maria was shaking her head. "I don't mean their family, specifically. I mean Vulpies in general. Shades, in general. The general population doesn't like us. You must know that." She waited for Kelly's nod before continuing. "If two Vulpies have babies, their babies will be Vulpies. But if a Vulpie has babies with someone from general population, there's a good chance that baby will not be a Shade. Sometimes a Shade will bite someone from the general population, and their DNA will cause genetic mutations for the bitten person and they'll become a Shade, but that only happens sometimes. Until now, there's been no way to know if a person's DNA will mutate or not."

  Clanging from the cage area drew their attention. Roger was bringing the metal cart through the door. Mike stood over Matt until Roger was clear, then stepped out and closed the door.

  "Are you done with her?" he called, waiting with his hand on the cage door.

  Maria nodded, motioning for Kelly to precede her. Kelly slid out of the chair and walked back to the cage. She peered in at Matt. His eyes were closed again.

  "Does he have a concussion? Did you give him anything?"

  Mike didn't answer. He swung the door open and tipped his head, indicating for Kelly to step into the cage. Grinding her teeth together, she did. Locking the door, he motioned for her to approach so he could remove the collar.

  "Roger's going to get him something." He hung the collar back on the peg on the wall next to a pole with a plastic grip on one end and metal prongs on the other. Kelly stared at the contraption as he walked away. Was that some kind of long distance electrocution tool, like a cattle prod? She didn't remember seeing it there earlier.

  Kelly searched the lab area. Roger was mixing a cloudy liquid in a beaker. He poured it into a paper cup and walked back over to the front of the cage. "Give him this, and make sure he drinks the whole thing. It'll take care of his headache faster than if I gave him the pills."

  Kelly took the cup, nodding. She hated that she didn't know what was in it. It could be legitimate, but it might also be something to do with their tests.

  Roger seemed to know why she hesitated. One corner of his mouth lifted disdainfully. "If this was important to me I wouldn't be giving it to you to give him. You're the one who's been pestering for something for his head."

  Kelly turned without answering and moved to Matt's side. He groaned when she lifted his hand to the cup. "Come on, Matt. You need to drink this, it's for your headache. It will make you feel better."

  He opened his eyes, wincing at the light. He brought the cup to his lips and drained it, then held it out to her. When she took it from him he pulled his knees up and crossed his arms on them, dropping his head and resting his brow on them without speaking.

  Chapter thirty

  Kenzy thanked the driver and delivered a dazzling smile as she slid out of the car and shut the door. He had finally realized she wasn't in the mood for chatting and had gotten away from the traffic by taking a side street. He had gotten her to the estate driveway a full five minutes ahead of the estimate, so he deserved the smile.

  Kenzy waited until he was around the corner before walking down the long driveway. She knew better than to have a car drop her in front of the estate itself. The others would probably have a fit if they knew she sometimes had a lift to the driveway, as it was. She didn't need to fire them up further.
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  By the time she reached the steps she was regretting her choice of footwear. How had she never gotten a blister from these heals before? They clearly weren't made for covering any kind of distance in. She limped up the steps and punched in the code on the doorknob's keypad, waited for the cylinders to shift, then opened the door.

  Maria glanced up as Kenzy came into the living room from where she was flipping through a magazine.

  "Where can I get a band-aid?"

  Maria cocked her head, her eyes taking in Kenzy's outfit in one sweeping glance. "In the bathroom. Medicine cabinet behind the mirror."

  Kenzy nodded. She tried not to limp on her way to the bathroom. Inside, she pulled the boots off to inspect the damage. Great. Blisters on the back of both heels. One had popped, the other was still a stinging, fluid-filled bubble. She winced as she cleaned the opened sore, waved air over it to make it dry faster, then slapped band-aids on both. She decided to add band-aids to her pinky toes and the bony areas just below them, too. Those were looking a little red.

  She padded back to the living room in bare feet, carrying her boots in her hand.

  "The price some girls will pay for beauty, huh?" Maria's tone was bland. Kenzy eyed her suspiciously. Carl's sister had never come right out and said it, but Kenzy got the distinct feeling she didn't like Kenzy. She wasn't going to get sidetracked with that right now, though.

  "Hey, Maria, why did Carl decide to grab that girl last night? Why didn't he just take the homeless guy, like we talked about?"

  Maria shrugged, still flipping pages in the magazine. "Maybe he saw a chance and took it. Why? Surely you aren't feeling threatened?" She snuck a look from the corner of her eye to see if her barb had struck.

  Kenzy counted to five. "I'm not threatened, just curious. You guys are always going on about protocols and methods and making sure we aren't traced. I thought you would be more careful, that's all."

  Maria's head snapped up, her full attention on Kenzy now. "What is that supposed to mean?"

  Kenzy arched an eyebrow at her. "I researched the guy. I watched him for weeks, like I always do. I never saw him with a girl. I never saw her before last night." She waited a beat before dropping her bomb. "And then again this morning, on the news. The cops are looking for them both, now."

  Maria stared at her. Her expression never changed, but Kenzy could feel the sudden charge of energy in the room. The elevator opened and Mike came down. Kenzy stiffened as she saw his gaze slowly travel over her body. She wished she had put her boots back on instead of carried them in her hands. His eyes brushed over her to Maria, having never bothered to reach Kenzy's face.

  "What's going on? You're here early." He swiveled his head, looking for Carl.

  "It's just me this morning. I wanted to know why Carl and Maria brought back the girl with the homeless guy last night," she said. She saw Maria tense at being included.

  Mike caught the tension in the room. His gaze took in both women, his expression wary. "Why? Did you ask Carl?"

  Kenzy lifted her chin a fraction. "Carl doesn't enjoy being woken." She knew her attempt at haughty had failed. Mike was turning away, heading for the side entrance. "The cops found her car." She had his attention again. She shrugged one shoulder. "I'm curious why they would grab her when you guys keep telling me how I need to be sure, we need to do things certain ways so the research stays pure." She moved her hands to form air quotes for the last word and barely stopped herself in time. She was sure they wouldn't appreciate her lack of respect for their research methods. "I only ever saw the guy. He's the only one I told Carl to bring back."

  Mike strode to the mantle and picked up a remote. He aimed it at the television on the wall and turned it on, finding a local news channel quickly. Kenzy heard him curse under his breath as the same newscaster relayed the story. This time they showed pictures they'd gotten from the girl's social media—pictures of her laughing, smiling, looking pensive. There was still just the one grainy picture of the homeless guy the police had gotten from a security camera. This time they had his name, Matthew Robbins. Apparently someone who had recognized him had called it in.

  The piece finished and the station went to commercial. Mike turned to Maria, expectation clearly written across his face.

  "I don't know! He came around the corner of the building with both of them. It's not like I was in position to question him right then, was it?" Maria glared at both of them.

  Kenzy shook her head consolingly. "No, you're right. You usually leave from here in Shadeform, right? So it's not like you could have asked him what he was thinking. Not like you would want to do that in front of them, anyway."

  Maria tossed her a look that suggested she should stop talking. Kenzy shrugged. Whatever. She didn't care how they worked their way through it now, she'd done what she came to do. They knew she hadn't been to blame for the girl being here. They would remember it, whatever Carl tried to say later.

  Mike growled, a low rumble that sounded like it came from his chest. Kenzy sat on the edge of the leather recliner and slid her feet back into her boots, watching Mike pace. He fisted his hands on his hips and paused at the end of the couch, turned, and strode back. Kenzy zipped her boots and wiggled her feet in them, testing whether the band-aids were going to cushion those blisters enough to let her walk back out to the street. She could feel Maria's attention on her and shot a quick glance from the corner of her eye.

  "I don't think she'll be as easy to get rid of as the last one. She isn't freaked like the others—she's up there ordering Roger to get the guy medicine for his head, for Pete's sake." Mike ran his hands through his cropped hair.

  Maria's stare lasted a beat longer before she turned to answer Mike. "She knows a couple of Vulpies. She told me that I was the cat in the van last night. You're right, Roger isn't going to be able to just drug her and shift and let her think she's on a bad trip."

  Kenzy cocked her head, squinting one eye as she watched them. She didn't see why they always tried to get fancy with how they disposed of the ones who wouldn't change. They were bums. Who was going to listen to them, never mind believe them? They were right, this girl was different, but its not like she was from their back yard. They had grabbed her at night, and the van didn't have windows she could see out, so it's not like she could have kept track of where they were taking her. It was over an hour's drive to the gas station they'd grabbed her at. If they drugged her and took her someplace a couple of hours away, left her in the woods somewhere... Or, they could just kill her and be done with it. She saw Mike's face change when he reached the same conclusion.

  "I think we might have to step over Roger's line in the sand."

  Maria's face fell. "Don't say that. That's not us—we don't go there."

  Mike lifted one shoulder. "Let's see what he says." He returned to the elevator and punched the button. "Who knows, maybe her blood will hold the key. If she changes we'll have to figure something else out."

  Chapter thirty-one

  Kelly sat on the floor next to Matt. From this spot she could see Roger, rolling back and forth between the microscopes and his desk on a wheeled metal stool, and if she turned her head she could see Joe laying on his back on the metal bunk in his cell.

  He had been talking to Fred for a while, asking him whether he thought the guys at the shelter would have found Joe's stash yet or not. From the sounds of it, Joe's stash consisted of a pair of sneakers, a couple of sweatshirts, and an insulated thermos. He had only grown quiet after Fred snarled at him and curled up on his own bench with his back to the rest of the room.

  Kelly tipped her head back and stared at a corner of the cage. She wished, for the thousandth time, that she had her cell phone with her. She wondered if the clerk had found it and brought it behind the counter in case she came back for it. She was pretty sure that if a random customer saw it just sitting there on the counter where she'd set it to charge, she'd never see it again.

  That phone had all the keys to her world. Her social media
accounts, her email, her banking app; they were all accessible through her phone. Not to mention her contacts—she didn't even know most of her friends' phone numbers. If she wanted to text or call anyone, she just scrolled to their name and hit the button to call. She was pretty sure the only reason she knew her mom's number was because she memorized it back before she had her own cell phone. She thought of Tyler, who she was supposed to go on a date with at the end of the week. Would he hear about her kidnapping before then? Would she still want to go on that date after all this?

  Kelly remembered Tyler's eyes, one blue and the other brown, and the shock of white hair over his brow. She remembered his smirk, his teasing grin, and his gentle strength helping her stay grounded when her brain wanted to panic. Yes, she was pretty sure she would still want that date.

  Roger drew Kelly's attention as he rolled back to the shelf of notebooks and pulled one out, rifling through its pages next to the microscope. Kelly tried to burn the room into her brain, looking at each wall and table. She wished she had paper and pencil; she'd sketch them. It helped her to recall things when she could use her hands to sketch them out. Something about increasing the number of senses involved in putting the information into her brain helped her. She wanted to remember as much as she could when she got out of here, in case it helped the task force figure out what was going on.

  She caught her breath. Boy, she was making assumptions, wasn't she? She was making plans for when she was out of here, when nothing so far lent itself to that being a probability. A leaden sensation filled her limbs, and she dropped her head to her knees.

  What were her parents thinking right now? They would have freaked when she hadn't made it home last night. Would they think she had just decided to sleep over a friend's house, or would they have called the police? Would anyone have reported her car, sitting on the side of the road a mile from anything?

 

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