Marcus alive and upright and real.
My eyes darted to the camera above our door. Could he see me? If their camera fed into our hallway, ours must feed into theirs.
But when I looked back at the monitor, he was glancing over his shoulder, saying something to Jason and Passion who’d just come up behind him. There was no audio feed though. I saw their mouths move. I saw Jason nod. I saw three more figures join the group, but their faces were out of camera range, an escort of burly, headless bodies. They weren’t female, I could tell that much, so I was guessing my mother hadn’t come. I was simultaneously disappointed and hugely relieved by her absence. If I was going to do something awful with my hand, I’d rather she not see it.
I glanced at Grant. He was grinning at me.
This was really happening. The CAMFers were letting us go. We were going to be free.
Dr. Fineman held his keycard up to the camera.
In the monitor, Mr. James drew a similar keycard from around his neck and held it up.
Dr. Fineman reached out and pushed a button on the security panel.
Mr. James appeared to be doing the same.
Our security panel’s screen began to flash red numbers, counting down from ten like it was preparing for a shuttle launch.
Dr. Fineman held out his keycard.
In the monitor, Mr. James held out his keycard too, poised to use it.
I was getting a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. This was a lot of security. There was no way it was all for us. I glanced over my shoulder, back down the long hallway we’d just come down. It had no doors except this one, a single door with massive security. What was behind it?
I looked up at the left monitor. That had to be the room beyond this door. And on the right monitor were Mr. James and my friends, standing in a hallway like this one, also leading to a door which led into that room. What the hell was going on?
The red number flashed from 1 to 0 and the door made a loud buzz as Dr. Fineman inserted his keycard into its slot.
The door swung open.
Dr. Fineman stepped across the threshold and I followed, Grant behind me.
Mike Palmer stood guard just on the other side. He was the one I’d seen in the monitor with his back turned. Dr. Fineman stepped past him, not giving him a second glance.
But I stopped, pausing right next to him. “CAMFer pig,” I said, loud enough for Fineman to hear.
“What did you say?” Palmer spat, reaching out and grabbing me by the elbow.
I could feel Grant behind me, tensing up. I could hear the guards, caught back in the hallway, shuffling nervously.
“Let go of her,” Dr. Fineman turned, frowning at Palmer. “She is nothing. She is useless, and you have something more important to attend to. One thing. One priority. Do you understand? I chose you for your dedication to the cause, and you’d better not disappoint me.”
“No, sir.” Palmer dropped my arm and looked properly reprimanded. “I won’t.”
“Go then.” Fineman waved him away. “It’s time. You know what to do.”
“Yes, sir,” Mike Palmer said and he stepped away, opening up my view of one of the most amazing rooms I’d ever seen. It was so huge and expansive, I’m not even sure you could call it a room. It was more like a cathedral or a conservatory, its domed glass ceiling hanging far above us in giant, precise hexagons, the stars winking in and out in the night sky beyond them.
I craned my neck to take it all in and my hood fell back. Screw Fineman. I wasn’t putting it back on.
“Holy shit,” Grant exclaimed softly next to me. “What is this?” He was looking up too, his head and hood thrown back.
But no one answered him.
Dr. Fineman just led us further into the room, a pompous smile on his lips.
The entire inside of the dome was open, with no interior walls, and it was dimly lit, so the effect of the night sky was all the more dazzling. In the middle was a huge empty area, a giant circular mosaic of floor tiles mapped out in intricate detail. The rest, closer to the outer walls, was decorated with a series of folding screens placed strategically throughout to mark off various sections and block them from view. There were furnishings, too. Off to one side was what looked like a library with shelves full of books, comfortable seating, and a few lamps. Mike Palmer disappeared from view behind one of the library screens. For a moment, I thought I heard the murmur of voices, but it was hard to tell. The acoustics in the dome were weird, sound bouncing off curved walls so I couldn’t be sure what direction it was coming from.
Despite its open and massive architecture, the dome felt like a private, individual space, like we’d invaded someone’s home uninvited. And it was hard to measure the length and breadth of it all. Was it a hundred feet across? Two hundred?
Whatever the distance, my eyes didn’t have any trouble finding the door on the other side, exactly opposite ours.
It had a guard too and was already open, Mr. James stepping through, his eyes landing on me immediately.
My heart soared. I’d never thought in a million years I’d be so happy to see that man. But I was.
There was movement behind him and Marcus stepped in.
I didn’t expect it, but my knees started to buckle, all the strength suddenly gone out of them.
Grant grabbed my elbow, holding me up. “Hey, it’s okay,” he whispered. “We’re going to be okay.” He was comforting me, but he was also warning me not to mess this up. I had to hold it together. If we were going to walk out of here, I had to be able to walk.
Or Marcus could carry me.
Fuck. That didn’t help. That made me want to fall on the floor even more.
I locked my knees and stared at Marcus, hungry for him, willing those beautiful brown eyes to look at me. Instead, they swept the dome, surveying it just as I had. What would he see when his eyes found me after so much distance and time and agony?
Finally, he looked down from the dome, his glance flicking to my face but avoiding my eyes. He inspected me, coldly, calculatingly, his face devoid of all emotion. And then he was done with me, his eyes moving on to Grant.
I stood, stunned. I felt like I had been smacked, hard. Like my whole body had been thrown to the ground, the air slammed out of me. What the hell? How could he look at me like that after all I’d been through, after all we’d been through together?
No, that wasn’t fair. Of course he’d come to a meeting with his uncle and the CAMFers wearing his poker face. He would never show them what he wanted, even if it was me. That look had been for them. I’d get my look later, when all this was over.
His glance had already left Grant, falling on Dr. Fineman, still cool, calm and collected. I’d seen Marcus rage against this man before. I’d seen Marcus try to kill him. Now he simply looked at him, no hatred flaring in his eyes, just curiosity mixed with caution.
I tore my gaze away from Marcus, my heart plummeting, my hope dissolving. Something was wrong. Horribly, horribly, wrong. I can’t explain how I knew, but this was a different Marcus than the one I’d known. It was in the way he stood, and looked, and saw. It was in every cell of his being. And I could only think of one explanation for that. Danielle was here, a captive of the CAMFers. I’d seen her. I’d felt her. She’d healed me. Even then, even when the evidence was overwhelmingly against Marcus, I still hadn’t believed it. Because I hadn’t wanted to. Because I’d needed him. I’d needed the hope of him to keep me alive. It’s what had gotten me this far. The hope of seeing him again, of connecting with those eyes and seeing love in them.
I was such an idiot.
Passion stepped through the door and her eyes found me and Grant, full of concern and relief. Then she glanced at Marcus and back at me, like she was trying to tell me something. Did she know what I’d just realized? Had she figured it out?
Jason came in behind her, followed by the three guys from the Warren Gun Club. What the hell were they doing here?
Jason’s gaze found me, and he looked reli
eved too. There was more feeling in those eyes than I’d seen in Marcus’s, and that’s when it hit me again. Marcus didn’t care about me. At all. It had all been a lie. And the rest of them must not know, or why bring him here? Why play right into his hands? Shit. What would he do? Had he promised to deliver us all to Fineman in exchange for Danielle?
“Come along.” Fineman strutted forward, leading us to the big mosaic circle in the middle of the dome.
Grant and I followed like obedient dogs, but the guards stayed near the door, as did the guys from the gun club on the other side.
Mr. James reached the outside of the circle first and stopped, Passion, Jason and Marcus stopping a few feet behind him.
Dr. Fineman strode right into it, leaving Grant and I at the perimeter, waiting as well.
“I see you brought Passion to me, as agreed,” Dr. Fineman said, smiling maliciously. “And I brought Olivia and Grant. Shall we make the exchange and be done with it?”
No. Please, no. Mr. James couldn’t trade Passion for us. She’d never survive the CAMFers.
Passion looked as stunned as I was, her confused eyes glancing from Mr. James to the doctor and back again.
Marcus looked pissed, but not surprised.
“Let’s cut the crap,” Mr. James growled. “You know very well I’m not giving you Passion, nor did I ever intend to. Just like you never intended to enter peaceful negotiations with The Hold. You fired on us out there. You shot at innocent women and children entering the compound on our side.”
“Your side?” Dr. Fineman asked, quirking an eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware you had a side anymore, Mr. James. I believe you were officially relieved as leader of The Hold six days ago and have no authority or permission to be here in any capacity. Which makes you and your little group nothing more than trespassers, I’m afraid. And as criminal trespassers, I’ll be taking you all into my custody.”
“And I’m afraid you’re horribly misinformed.” Mr. James took an official-looking piece of paper from inside his jacket and held it out. “This is a court-ordered eviction notice from the Confederated Tribes of Warm Springs for the CAMFers and The Hold. Our right to access and maintain this facility has been terminated, which technically makes all of us trespassers. Oh, except for me and my eviction team. You see, the tribes have appointed me temporary server and executor of the eviction, which I can do since I no longer have any official affiliation with The Hold. And since you brought unauthorized armed forces onto reservation land and fired upon civilians, the eviction takes effect immediately.”
“An eviction?” Dr. Fineman asked, smirking. “How quaint. Next thing I know, you’re going to say you’ve come to repossess my car. You think this matters?” He gestured dismissively at the document in Mr. James’s hand. “Your paperwork and your legalese and your connection with the tribes? We are no longer under your thumb or the agreements made between the Hold and the CAMFers concerning this place and its occupants. Surely you understood this after I took your niece and nephew, after I stormed your daughter’s little party. But in case you’re still confused, let me show you how serious I am.” He waved a hand at the nearest partition. “Bring her out,” he called.
Mike Palmer stepped out from behind the screen, shoving a slender figure in front of him, her face hidden deep in the cowl of her hood. But I knew who it was. It was hard to miss the gentle glow of the PSS fingertips peeking out from her left sleeve. Fineman had put her in a robe too? God, he was a psychotic bastard.
Palmer had one arm wrapped around her, pinning her arms to her side, but his other hand was up near her throat, holding something, pressing it against her.
It was the device Anthony had used to cut off my hand.
And it was humming, the red laser line bright against the shiny black cloth of her robe like a stripe of blood.
27
OLIVIA
“Danielle—” Marcus shouted, a strangled cry suddenly cut short as two CAMFers grabbed him from behind. Even as they forced him to his knees and handcuffed him, a gun held to his head, Jason, Passion, and Mr. James were being taken and bound as well.
CAMFers were pouring from behind partitions. There must have been fifteen or twenty of them.
The three guys from the Warren Gun Club were throwing down their weapons and putting their hands up.
No. This could not be happening.
I looked back at Palmer and his hostage. He’d told me he was working for Danielle, that this was all to save her. He’d told me no matter what it looked like, I couldn’t expose him. Was this what he’d been talking about? Was it some kind of diversion?
“Don’t hurt her, please,” Marcus pleaded. “Take me. Do whatever you want to me. Just don’t hurt her.”
“What a nice little offer,” Dr. Fineman said, strutting around the circle like a peacock. “But I’m afraid there’s been some kind of horrible mistake on your part. This isn’t your sister, Danielle. No, I distinctly remember killing her right in front of your eyes. Surely you haven’t forgotten? It was very memorable. But, oh wait, now I recall something. One of my little spies informed me you’ve had somewhat of a traumatic brain injury, and you don’t remember at all, do you?”
Wait? What? If that wasn’t Danielle, who the hell was it? And Marcus had been injured? He’d lost his memory?
I tried to catch Passion’s eyes, to find an answer there, but she was glaring at Jason for some reason.
“You killed her,” Marcus wailed, thrashing and struggling against the men holding him, his eyes fixated on Dr. Fineman, awash with grief and hate and rage.
It hurt to see him like that, to witness him relive the most painful moment of his life, bound and exposed to his enemies. If he’d forgotten Danielle’s death, what else had he forgotten?
Oh, God. He’d forgotten me. That’s why he’d looked at me that way when he’d first come in.
I tore my eyes from him, back to Palmer. He was still holding his hostage, but he’d lowered the cutting device, his arm relaxed a little, and he gave me a look. But what did it mean? Did he expect me to use my hand now, when everyone who’d come to rescue me was being held at gunpoint? We were surrounded by CAMFers, and no one was within reach except Grant. I had to have something to combine with his cube. If I was going to do this, I needed another resource to pull from.
And Marcus had forgotten me.
“Yes, I killed her,” Fineman said, bending down to loom in Marcus’s face.
“Leave him alone,” Mr. James growled, trying to lunge forward, but the CAMFers holding him wrestled him back.
“Well, her powers were limited, so it wasn’t a huge loss,” Dr. Fineman said, turning to Mr. James. “Your niece’s PSS was a mere novelty, but I took her sample and replicated it. And its healing properties have come in handy.”
“Fuck you,” Mr. James spat. “After today you will never hurt another child with PSS.”
“Really?” Dr. Fineman asked. “You’re going to stop me? How, I wonder, when I hold all the cards? I hold you and your pitiful little group of PSS adolescents. I hold this valley, as you noticed when you came in. And I hold this dome and everything in it, including her.” He gestured at Palmer and the robed form. “Shall we introduce everyone, do you think? Is it time to let them know how much you and I truly are alike?”
“You’re not going to get away with this,” Mr. James said calmly. “I have troops moving in even as we speak, taking back the valley and the compound. You hold the dome now, but you’re surrounded and outnumbered. You’re trapped, doctor. You might as well give up.”
God, I hoped that was true.
“Give up?” Dr. Fineman smiled wickedly. “I think not. After all, I have you. Surely your own men won’t attack when it would certainly result in your death. And I have her.” He gestured to the captive in Palmer’s arms. “The Hold would never move against me as long as I have her, would they? Pull back her hood,” he ordered Palmer. “I think it’s time we let The Hold’s little secret out of the bag.”
; The girl in Palmer’s arms didn’t struggle. She didn’t make a sound. She just stood there, stoically, as he reached up a hand and tugged back her hood, revealing her face.
I stared at her, and I couldn’t breathe.
She wasn’t Danielle. She wasn’t anyone I had ever met, but I knew her face almost better than my own. I had looked at it so many times, studied it, memorized it. I’d imagined myself meeting her all my life, though never like this.
And her face, it wasn’t exactly like my father had depicted in The Other Olivia. Here were the same delicate, pixie-like features that made her look so eternally young, but it was more beautiful and incredible than his painting. First, because it was real. Second, because it wasn’t completely PSS. Instead, her face was marbled, flesh and PSS swirled in an almost symmetrical design across it. She had a PSS mask around her eyes, and it drifted down over her nose and around her mouth, but her forehead and cheeks and chin were flesh. Her hair, most of it brown, was peppered with stands of PSS like filaments of light, which seemed to have a mind of their own, dancing around her head. Even her neck and throat had a strip of PSS, running nearly straight down the middle and disappearing into the collar of her robe. And out of it all shone piercing, deep, intelligent, brown eyes.
My sister. The Kaylee. She was real.
And I wasn’t the only one in awe of her.
A hush had fallen over the entire dome. Even the CAMFers had fallen under the spell of that face.
She was looking at me. We were seeing one another for the first time. No, not for the first time. I had seen her once. We had met. In a cell deep in the basement of the compound. We had touched fingers and hands through a stone wall. She had slipped me notes. She had come to me in a dream and told me everything was going to be all right.
“Kaylee,” I said, and in my mind the words echoed after it. We will always love you.
“She can’t answer you,” Dr. Fineman said, jerking me back to reality. I had almost forgotten where we were and the horrible situation we were in. “Her vocal chords are PSS, so she’s incapable of speech. But yes, she is Kaylee, your sister, brought here to this compound by Mr. James when she was only seventeen days old.”
Ghost Heart (The PSS Chronicles #3) Page 23