“Right,” I said. I’d forgotten about his stupid pretending game. A knot tightened in the pit of my stomach as his gaze drifted to my lips and lingered there. He cocked his head, leaned in. I could feel his breath on my face and smell a tiny hint of peppermint as his lips got closer to mine.
I raised both hands and placed them on Jonas’s chest, then shoved him lightly until I had him backed against the library’s stone facade. I briefly played with a button of his shirt, then peered up at him through a veil of lashes.
“Whatcha doin’, Red?” The corners of his lips twitched as he stared down at me.
I ran my fingers through his dark hair and traced an imaginary line from his temple, down his cheek, and to his lips. “You can keep pretending, but I don’t have the energy to lie about my feelings for you.” My hand slid around to grab the back of his neck. I leaned in and pressed my lips to his. They were soft and warm, and at first, he didn’t return the kiss. I sucked in his lower lip, then pulled back and stared into his eyes. His expression intensified as he studied me.
I leaned in again. This time when our lips met, his parted. His tongue ran along my lower lip, then pushed into my mouth slightly as he deepened the kiss and explored. He wrapped his arm around me, and in an abrupt movement, he turned our bodies until I was up against the building. His other hand was in my hair, protecting my head from hitting the stone. He kissed me hard and deep, making it nearly impossible to take in a breath.
Minutes passed. We were a tangle of limbs, fingers intertwined into each other’s hair, and lips locked. I knew people were watching us, and I didn’t care. I should have cared. But I needed Jonas, and I was tired of pretending. If he wanted to break my heart after we rescued the missing clones, I’d just have to deal, but for now… this was what I wanted.
The kissing slowed. After a few additional soft kisses, he leaned his forehead against mine. We were both breathing hard, and if we weren’t already on a mission to solve the mystery of some missing clones and a murder, we probably would have altered our mission in search of instant gratification.
He pulled back from me. As he did, he took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped himself. His brows knitted together, casting a dark shadow over his eyes. I wanted to know what he was thinking, but I didn’t dare ask.
He was troubled, at a loss for words. I glanced toward the library’s entrance and decided to let him off the hook. “The library closes soon. Let’s go.”
He reached down and grabbed my hand. This time when our fingers intertwined, it felt different, like we’d had some breakthrough, no matter how small. I would hold on to that feeling of hope for a while, but I knew I was risking major damage to my heart.
He led me into the library. We made our way to the computers on the third floor, bypassing the information desk. Hopefully we could log on and search for what we needed without checking in.
Ten minutes later, I was scrolling through articles about Howard BioTech. Jonas’s presence beside me was like a slow-burning ember. I struggled to concentrate.
I overheard a man at the information desk tell a young woman that there were two kids at the computers who hadn’t checked in. I looked over at Jonas. He had apparently heard him too, because he was now staring at the two librarians.
“I’ll kick them off. It’s almost closing time anyway.” The woman pushed her thick, black-rimmed glasses up her nose and started to walk out from behind the information desk.
I just need three minutes, I pleaded with Jonas.
Suddenly, the woman knocked a stack of papers and a tin can of pens onto the floor. “Oh! I’m such a klutz,” she exclaimed.
Thank you, I mindspoke.
I went back to my reading, mindspeaking to Jonas about the highlights. It says here that the BSL-4 laboratory isn’t fully operational yet. Dad had mentioned construction, but he’d made it sound like a simple renovation. And he’d left out the part about it being BSL-4. It says BioTech plans to one day help in the research of highly contagious diseases and substances that could be used in bioterrorism, but they’re not doing any of that yet.
So what’s Building B being used for? Jonas asked.
According to this, I scrolled to the top of the article, as of June of this year, it was being sublet to another company.
What kind of company would your father allow to enter his high-security facility?
“The library will be closing in five minutes,” a female voice said over a speaker.
The two librarians at the information desk had just finished straightening the papers and setting the tin of pencils on the desk. They seemed to have forgotten all about us. But the people around us began packing up their belongings and shutting down their computers. The male librarian, a skinny guy with a man bun, came over and instructed the stragglers, including Jonas and me, that it was time to shut down the computers. He looked straight at us and said, “And please remember in the future to check in at the desk before using our computers.”
Walk away, Man Bun, Jonas mindspoke.
I would have laughed, but there wasn’t time, and I kinda liked his hair. I turned back to the computer and typed one last search: What company is renting space at Howard BioTech? I included the street address in my search and pressed “enter.”
The same articles I’d already scanned popped up on the screen. I had already clicked on every article… except one.
I clicked on the link, and it took me to the Oregon Secretary of State’s website. It showed a listing of a new company—a public record—that was apparently a subsidiary of Howard BioTech.
“Boone Laboratories,” I whispered.
Jonas and I traded questioning looks.
The elevators behind us pinged, and for some reason the sound prompted me to turn. The doors slid open, and two men in dark suits stepped out. One had a hand on something at his hip.
Jonas, we have trouble.
Jonas tried to get inside their minds. Turn around. You see no one of interest here. One turned, but the other kept walking straight for us. This was not good—only the IIA had ever been capable of blocking our mind control in the past.
“Excuse me,” the man said when he reached us. “We’d like to talk to you about your internet search. Why were you searching for information on Howard BioTech?”
I squared my shoulders and took a step forward. “Last I looked, I was at the public library. I can search for anything I’d like. As long as it’s legal. And I’m not looking at porn.” Maybe my smartass tone wasn’t the best choice.
A few final library patrons slowed as they neared the stairs and the elevators, watching us with growing curiosity. The two librarians were standing motionless behind the desk.
The suit’s hand tightened around the weapon at his waist. The other suit had recovered and was making his way over, fingering a pair of handcuffs at his waist. “You’ll both need to come with us. It’s nothing to worry about; we just want to ask you some questions.”
They have to be IIA, Jonas mindspoke to me. Sandra trained agents how to recognize our mind control. Some are better than others at it.
Did she train them how to resist a paralyzing agent?
Jonas looked down to where I was twisting Lexi’s ring round and round on my middle finger. He smiled. Have I told you lately how incredible you are?
Not enough. I smirked. You go for the other one—he seems to be a bit weaker mentally. I’ll take this guy down.
I stepped closer to the suit. “Sure,” I said. “I’ve got nothing to hide.”
The suits traded glances. At least they had the sense to look nervous, which meant they’d heard stories. The agent turned toward the elevator, leading me by the arm, and in doing so, he let his guard down for the briefest of moments. That was all I needed.
I swung my arm up and cupped my hand along the suit’s neck, releasing a small amount of the agent. Then I guided him to the floor as he lost consciousness. “I’m sorry,” I said.
> Jonas had the other suit on the floor and restrained by his own handcuffs before I had even turned back to him. “Nice work,” he said.
“Ditto.”
He touched the small of my back, and we headed down the back stairs. Moments later, we exited onto a side street disguised as two men.
“They’re monitoring everything,” I said after I’d taken a deep breath one block later. “They were watching for searches about Howard BioTech.”
“It wasn’t just that,” Jonas said. “They couldn’t have gotten to the library that fast unless they were already on our tail. They must have spotted us on one of the cameras around the city before you disguised us.”
“Big Brother’s a bitch.”
Jonas laughed. “What do you make of the company—Boone Laboratories?” he asked.
“Could be anything. It could just be a shell company of some sort, named after my brother. My parents loved Boone with all their hearts. They could barely speak his name after he died. Maybe this was my dad’s way of working through his grief.”
“But if he is collecting human clones there…”
“I just don’t know.” I couldn’t stop the irritation from seeping into my voice. “I want to talk to my dad. Give him the chance to tell me that this is all a big misunderstanding. That he was saving the clones from a worse fate on Palmyra.”
The look on Jonas’s face told me that although he hoped I was right, he didn’t think so. “Let’s get some food and find a place to sleep for the night. Maybe things will look different in the morning.”
I angled my head. “You don’t really believe that.”
He gave his head a little shake. “No, but you can’t keep up these disguises forever. Your mind needs a break.”
chapter twenty-two
Jonas
I’d been watching the headache build behind her eyes. She tried to ignore it, and denied it when I questioned her. But I could tell by the way she squinted and flinched as the sun drifted low in the sky that the bright light aggravated her pain.
We checked into the hotel under a couple of aliases, thanks to Jack and Lexi. Jack’s father, John DeWeese, had taught him how to obtain false documents, so he had arranged for our falsified identifications, a matching credit card, and some additional cash that Lexi owed me before he and Lexi left for Palmyra. The documents were waiting for us in a sealed envelope in the hotel’s safe. Luckily, Bree didn’t put up a fight when I put us up at one of the nicest hotels in Portland under the names of Mr. and Mrs. Dexter Farrell.
We entered the room and found a king-size bed with a gazillion pillows. I would never understand why anyone needed that many pillows, but after a crazy day, I was looking forward to sinking into them.
But Bree just stared at the bed for a few seconds before facing me. “How is it you can afford such an expensive hotel?”
“Lexi pays me well to take care of Palmyra.” I wanted to shrug like it was no big deal, but it was. Lexi put her trust in me, and I took seriously my desire to prove I was nothing like my mother, despite how I had treated Lexi when we’d first met.
“I’m sure she does.” She turned away and walked toward the window.
“Come on, Red. Jealousy is beneath you.”
She whipped around. “I am not jealous. Especially not of Lexi. It’s just… It must be nice to know what your future looks like. And to know that you’ll never have to worry about money.”
I angled my head. “You’re not really worried about money.”
She drilled the heel of her palm into her forehead and squeezed her eyes closed. Finally she dropped her hand and looked at me again. “My dad knew I would run out of money. He tried to manipulate me into coming to Portland.”
“But that’s not why you came.” Bree was not easily manipulated. “You came because Addison pointed you in the direction of the missing clones.”
“Which just happened to point in my dad’s direction.” She closed her eyes briefly. “Then, someone—maybe my dad—framed me for murder.” She reopened her eyes and faced the window again. “It doesn’t add up though. Why would my dad frame me for murder if he wanted me to join him at BioTech?” She gave her head a shake. “I don’t know. I’m just trying to figure it all out.”
“Maybe he framed you so that you’d be forced to rely on him to prove you didn’t kill Vance.”
“Maybe. Did he also send those men after me to scare me out of town?”
“Well, no. That wouldn’t make sense.”
“Exactly.”
She was looking at me with those tired, bloodshot eyes. Suddenly, she swayed slightly. Her hands lifted as if she was trying to balance, and her face paled.
“Red?”
“I’m okay.” She grabbed the back of the chair at the small hotel desk. “I’m just tired, I think.”
“No, you have a headache, and you’re dizzy.” I grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the bed. “How bad is it?” I asked as she lowered herself to the bed.
She looked up at me, slightly dazed. She seemed… vulnerable. “It’s been bad off and on since I left Palmyra.”
Since she’d used her abilities to find those tumors, that is. And it had probably gotten worse each time she’d use any of her abilities. “You’ve been avoiding telling me how bad your head’s been hurting.” After she nodded, I bent before her and slipped her shoes off, then stood and pulled back the covers, allowing her to slide under and sink her aching head into the down pillows. Her fiery red hair spread out behind her.
I crawled onto the other side of her. Lying on top of the covers, I ran my hand through her soft curls, then rested my arm across her waist. Her back was to my chest.
“I don’t know what to do next,” she said, her voice slightly hoarse from exhaustion.
I leaned in and kissed the back of her head. “First, we rest. We’re going to figure it all out together. I promise.” And if we didn’t figure it all out soon, I would kidnap my crazy redhead and fly her back to Palmyra. But I would prefer that we clear her of murder and save the missing clones first.
I hugged her tighter. Many minutes passed. She stopped rubbing her thumb back and forth along my forearm, and her breathing slowed and evened out into a peaceful rhythm. My sweet Bree had finally relaxed, and I was left analyzing the stresses of the day—stresses that had manifested in the form of a nasty headache.
I wriggled my arm loose from her grasp and leaned up on my elbow to examine her. I lightly brushed my fingers along her temple and down her cheek.
“Mmm,” she moaned, but remained asleep.
I concentrated and slipped inside her head. I wasn’t sure what I was searching for, but I hoped I didn’t find it. She had said she’d suffered a headache since she’d left Palmyra, and all I could think about was what Addison had said. What if Sandra had programmed our DNA to self-destruct at some point in the future? What if we were all walking time bombs?
But I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary—nothing I could fix for her anyway, so I pulled out of her head and continued to stroke her hair.
The ringing of her phone brought me out of my thoughts. I shot from the bed and grabbed her phone from the dresser, silenced it, and looked at Bree. She hadn’t moved. She was completely out, sleeping as peacefully as I’d ever seen her.
“Mom” flashed across the caller ID. Mrs. Howard was calling, and I didn’t know if I should answer or not. Then it dawned on me that they could be tracing the phone, so I quickly shut it off.
I scribbled a note to tell Bree I would be back soon, but I doubted she would wake. After a soft kiss to her cheek, I grabbed both of our phones and left the room.
~~~~~
I stopped in the gift shop on my way out and bought a baseball cap, which I pulled down low over my eyes. If anyone looked my way, I would use my mind to order their eyes elsewhere. I didn’t have Bree’s gift of disguise, but I could keep people from “seeing” me, if I was paying attention. Then I wandered in the direction of Waterfront Park, being careful
to pass several nice hotels, so that if anyone was tracing our phones, they’d struggle to locate exactly which hotel we were hiding in.
When I felt I was far enough away, I turned on Bree’s phone and listened to a frantic voicemail from her mother.
“Briana, honey, it’s your mother. Your father has been taken into custody. I don’t know what to do. And I haven’t heard from you. I’m worried. Please come home.”
Her voice was slightly slurred, and yet it had a certain… coldness to it. The voicemail went silent, and I shut off the phone. Next I called Lexi from my own phone.
“Hey,” she said. “Everything okay?”
“Things have gotten worse.” I told her what had happened with Lora at Howard BioTech, and how it was starting to look like Bree’s father might be behind the clones who had gone missing from Palmyra. “And now his wife says he’s been taken into custody.”
“By whom?”
“I had assumed the police, but… I guess she didn’t say.”
“How’s Bree doing?”
“Well, let’s see. Her father acts like she came home to start working side by side with him to conduct whatever experiments he’s working on, and her mother’s drinking her way through a grief period that’s been going on for something like ten years. She’s exhausted—she’s been using so much energy disguising us both—and someone has framed her for two murders. And we’re no closer to finding the missing clones.”
I didn’t mention what had happened to Bree last summer, or how recent events had dredged that up. Would Bree have told Lexi about Vance’s attack on her? I clenched my free hand into a fist. I would have killed Vance myself if he wasn’t already dead.
“Have you told her?”
“Have I told who what?” I asked, confused.
“Have you told Bree that you’re in love with her?”
“What? I’m not—” I stopped myself. Whatever came at the end of that sentence would have been a lie. “Bree and I don’t have a chance. You know that.”
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