“You scare the shit out of me, Jane Cabot. And I’m completely, one hundred percent in love with you.”
And there it was. Her heart popped open, like a dress splitting at the seams. Warmth spilled out of the gate, and she was soaring, she was free, she was exactly the girl she wanted to be and more. She was both loved and in love. Miracles really happened.
“I—”
Before she could respond, Will drove around the corner of the garage, pulling up in front of them. His right leg was jiggling up and down with obvious impatience. “Come on, come on,” he said.
“Shouldn’t we speak to Ethan?” Jane asked. “She might not be at the location Professor Neal named.”
“I don’t have to speak to Ethan,” he said through gritted teeth. Jane jumped in and slid on the leather seats so she sat between the two professors. “I know what important event she’s talking about.”
“What?” Jane asked, looking between the two. Depogare looked just as confused as she felt, but suddenly, his black eyes got wide and he pushed his brow up.
“The gala?” he questioned. “Why would Michael take her there? Why would he want to be around the event anyway?”
“What gala are you talking about?” Jane asked, getting frustrated. “What is going on?”
Will made a hard left at a stop sign, causing Jane to careen into Depogare. If Depogare hadn’t caught hold of the side of the cart, he would have fallen out.
“A classified military unit is hosting a gala tonight at the Pacific Research Museum,” he explained. “Invite only. A real black tie affair. Apparently, they’re unveiling the latest weapon technology to the entire military department and high executives that might be willing to fund the weapons through private companies so the US doesn’t have to foot the bill.”
“That sounds illegal,” Jane pointed out.
“It is,” Depogare confirmed. “Why would Michael bring her to that? What’s his intent?”
“He wants the government to use peculiars as weapons,” Jane said, turning her head so she could look Depogare in the eyes. “I know it. I tried reading his mind, but couldn’t. But I could read his energy. That’s why he’s insistent on having me and Sophie. We can do things other peculiars might not even detect or know about.”
“But Michael is the last person who would support the use of peculiars as weapons,” Depogare said. “The few encounters I’ve had with him said that much. He is a huge proponent of choice; he wants peculiars to be able to choose what to do with their power, their bodies. Being a government weapon would eliminate choice.”
“Quite frankly, I don’t give a shit why,” Will said. He was forced to stop as a group of tourists darted into the street. “As long as I get her back, that’s all I’m concerned about.”
Jane smirked. “We’re not getting Sophie back like this, are we?” she asked, looking between the two.
“And why not?” Will asked, his brow wrinkling in frustration.
“If we’re going to a black tie affair that we aren’t even invited to, it’s important we look the part.”
29
When Michael left, making sure the door was shut and locked behind him, Sophie made her way to her closet. Her thoughts were racing, jumping out of turn, incomplete and insistent. She wanted to escape now, but she believed Michael when he told her she wouldn’t be able to escape as quickly as she thought she would.
That, and a part of her was genuinely curious as to what this whole gala was really about. Michael wanted her to go with them so the government could run studies on them, find out more about the science of peculiars. As far as she knew, the only information they had was what Ethan and the Academy taught the students in books. Certainly, some peculiars wrote them, some peculiars were scientists themselves and studied the species, but she didn’t think any government was ever aware of the existence of peculiars. At this point, she couldn’t be sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
There was no doubt that Sophie was going to escape. She just had to wait for the right timing. She didn’t want to be like those girls in the movies where they tried escaping way before the opportunity presented itself, as though they were trying to prove they really didn’t want to be kidnapped or some other silly thing. She refused to be a damsel in distress, especially since she was so damn strong. However, if she stayed for the gala, perhaps she could lose herself in the thick crowd of people before Michael even realized she was gone. Unlikely, but more probable than escaping now. Plus, this way she might actually be able to garner useful information she could take back to Ethan.
She slid the glass door open, and her breath caught in her throat. There, hanging in all its glory, was a beautiful crimson-colored strapless gown. It had a sweetheart-shaped bodice and cinched at the waist. As it continued downwards, the color got darker and darker, until the red turned into black at the hemline of the dress. The skirt did not poof out, but it flared out, emphasizing hips and elongating her already-long legs. The color would match her skin and her hair perfectly. She wondered if it was in her size.
Without even realizing it, she had reached out to touch the material of the dress, only to stop herself. Was it wrong of her to feel excitement at the prospect of wearing this thing, even though it came from a man who had kidnapped her and wanted her to wear it in order to attend a gala that could potentially be dangerous to her and her kind? She gulped, the feelings of guilt gnawing at the inside of her stomach. It was such a beautiful dress, and she knew, deep down, she would look stunning in it. Regardless, she would have to wear it anyway, but her feelings about wearing the dress …
How silly. She was kidnapped and worried about wearing a dress. Jeez.
She forced herself to touch the dress—soft, but not as smooth as silk—and then grabbed its hanger. She needed to change now if they were going to leave in a few hours. She hoped he had makeup and some bobby pins in this place. If she was going to wear something as beautiful as this, she would make sure she looked damn good in it.
Three hours and thirteen minutes later, Sophie stood in front of her closet, studying herself in the mirror. She looked … beautiful. Stunning, really. Which was a word she never expected to be labeled as. She swallowed, her eyes going over every detail. It hadn’t been hard to find makeup here—there were a couple of females, including Dianna around—but Sophie refused to share so Michael agreed to send someone to buy certain amenities for her. She was shown a connecting bathroom she hadn’t noticed before, and from there, was able to shower and dry her hair with an actual blow dryer.
When Dianna dropped off the makeup, styling creams, hairspray, and a curling iron-straightener combo, she looked put out. Sophie didn’t particularly care. The bitch was a traitor. That, and she had a fling with Will. Maybe she could get Michael to send her out for something else, just to spite her.
It took much longer than she expected, much longer than if Jane and Elle were here to help her, but she was new at self-care, at putting actual effort into her appearance, and she wanted to look good. She didn’t particularly care about Michael or what people thought of her, but her appearance was the only thing she could control right now, and she didn’t want to take it for granted.
Sophie’s only gauge of time was the sun outside. She had no idea the specifics, only that the event itself started at eight in the evening. When the sun started to set—probably around six, if Sophie had to guess—there was a knock on the door before it whooshed up. Someone Sophie vaguely recognized came in holding a tray of food. He was skinny and had big blue eyes, and she knew she had seen him somewhere before.
“Can’t believe he has me bringing her food, like I’m some sort of servant.” He didn’t even look at Sophie as he all but thrust the tray on top of the nightstand. “I’m the one who orchestrated everything, yet I’m the one bringing the food to the prisoner, like a slave? Like, like I’m nothing. How is that logical?”
“Thanks,” Sophie called out, not bothering to hide her sarcasm. When the door slammed s
hut, she felt herself grateful that she didn’t have to deal with him. However, something nagged her about him. Where did she know him from?
She shrugged. It would come to her eventually.
She turned her attention to the food and felt a flip of excitement at what she saw: cucumber sandwiches! Before she knew it, she had scarfed five down and was currently eating the sixth when the door whooshed open again and Dianna strolled in. She took one look at the empty plate of sandwiches and shifted gears to sneer at Sophie, holding a half-eaten sandwich in her hand, gaping with a full mouth. Dianna looked nothing short of disgusted. Sophie felt herself flush, but it didn’t stop her from swallowing the food and finishing the sandwich.
“It’s time to get ready,” Dianna drawled, hands on hips. “We leave soon, and you need all the time you can get.”
Sophie smirked. “Okay,” she replied, her mouth full once more.
“You’re disgusting,” Dianna said with a sneer.
Sophie shrugged. She behaved this way on purpose, hoping to get a rise out of the shifter. “Will seems to like it.”
“Yeah, well, Will doesn’t have high standards.”
Sophie nodded. “Explains a lot.”
That seemed to get her, and with a huff, Dianna stomped out of the room. If she could have slammed the door, she probably would have. As childish as it was, Sophie smiled gleefully and headed back to the closet, wiping her face with the back of her hand. Now was the time to get ready mentally. She rubbed her palms together; she could do this.
Before Sophie could fully process the results of her endeavor, the door buzzed. She could hear muffled speaking on the other side of it, but could only make out the words, “coming in.” Before she realized it, the door whooshed open, and there stood Michael, dressed in a pressed, tailored black and white tuxedo. His hair was combed to the side, and though he didn’t have whiskers as far as she could tell, she noticed that he shaved. His scent was strong, but not overwhelming—a cologne rather than a body spray. She was almost positive it was name brand, though she could never guess which one.
He looked handsome. And that was an understatement.
She felt her eyes tug away from him, afraid he might catch her staring. She hated that she felt like this. She hated that her biology and chemistry and everything in her body was screaming his name as though they had completely forgotten about Will. She felt as though she was betraying him, even though she hadn’t done anything wrong, even though her mind and her heart belonged to him. It was her body that wasn’t listening. That, and thousands of years of evolution.
“I take it by the way you smell, you approve,” Michael stated, his lips flicking up into a subtle smirk.
“My perfume?” Sophie asked, furrowing her brow.
“No, my dear, your pheromones.”
Sophie gulped, glancing away again. Her body was betraying her from a point she couldn’t control. She couldn’t mask her smell, not even with a healthy dose of perfume.
“You look beautiful,” he told her, and offered her his arm. “Are you ready?”
“Do I have a choice?”
He tsked her. “So tart right now,” he admonished, though his smile was amused.
Michael escorted her through the hallway, the dining room, the kitchen, and back to the entrance hall. He opened the front door for her where a sleek white BMW waited for them. Dianna sat in the driver’s seat, looking beautiful but out of place as a driver. Sophie didn’t hide a smirk when she caught Dianna’s eye, but Dianna smirked right back. Unease piled up in Sophie’s stomach at the sight of it, and as she slid into the far seat, behind Dianna in order to make room for Michael, she wondered why Dianna would give her a look like that. What did Dianna know that Sophie didn’t?
“You look beautiful,” Michael repeated again. “Doesn’t she look beautiful, Dianna?”
“Better looking than her friend, certainly,” Dianna replied, glaring at Sophie in the rearview mirror. “Didn’t know she was a screamer.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Sophie asked, her voice low.
Before Dianna could answer, Sophie was already processing everything. Clearly, the shifter was speaking about Jane. That much, there was no doubt. Second, if Dianna actually agreed with Michael’s statement, it implied that Jane was lacking.
The scars.
Jane was drop-dead gorgeous. There was no way Sophie would be able to compete with her at all. The only difference now was the fact that Jane was nearly killed by some unknown assailant, possibly beast, and the proof was in the scars that ran up and down her back. Maybe they’d go away in the future, but right now, they were a constant reminder that she had been on death’s door, and somehow, she’d been saved.
“I think you know exactly what it means.” And there it was. That smirk. It was back on Dianna’s face, like it had any business being there in the first place.
Sophie looked at Michael, waiting for an explanation. “What is she talking about?” she asked.
Michael didn’t even blink when he told her. Like it wasn’t a big deal. Like nearly killing someone was part of a normal life. And maybe for him, it was. Either way, Sophie couldn’t help but roll down the window and throw up the five cucumber sandwiches she had relished eating a few hours before. They did not taste as good coming up as they did going down.
30
“You cannot wear that,” Depogare said in a flat tone, gazing at Jane’s reflection over her shoulder. His black eyes were crisp, as though the decision was final, though he couldn’t help but linger on the blue fabric and the way it clung to her curves. “Absolutely not.”
“Why not?” Jane asked, turning around and glancing at herself from behind. “I look amazing.” Her eyes homed in on her butt, and she was pleased to see noticeable definition in that area as well.
“She looks lovely,” the shopkeeper, Mamoru, agreed with a grin, watching the scene unfold. “As do you, Mr. Depogare. The two of you make a handsome couple.”
From the corner of her eye, Jane noticed Depogare glance away. It was as though he was uncomfortable being complimented. She thought it was adorable, if only he wasn’t being totally unfair with her right now. However, she found it interesting that he didn’t correct the small shop keep, insisting that they were actually not together; that he was her professor, she was still his student, and anything else would be completely inappropriate.
At that moment, Will emerged from the dressing room, the privacy curtain flaring behind him after he pushed it out of the way. He fiddled with his cufflinks, still trying to button everything together so he wasn’t wearing his black tuxedo jacket like Depogare was. She had to bite her bottom lip to hide her smile of amusement. With Will’s wild hair, he looked completely beastly in such a sharp outfit, but the crazy thing was, it worked for him. Everything clung to him the way hands clung to a lover’s hips: snug and firm, revealing his solid body. The guy wasn’t tall—especially when standing next to Depogare—but he had enough muscle to make up for it. He was definitely a looker, and a tempered one at that. Clearly he cared about Sophie, because certainly there was no other reason for him to ever want to don such a suit.
Somehow, he seemed to recognize the tension between Jane and Depogare. “What is it now?” he asked, walking over to them in order to see how he looked in the mirror the couple were currently occupying.
“Daryl says I shouldn’t wear the dress.” Jane made sure to say Depogare’s first name on purpose, strictly for the sake of keeping up the cover that they were together. Lovers usually didn’t call each other by their last names unless they were law enforcement personnel. “What do you think?”
Will made a pained face. “What do I care if you wear the dress?” he asked, his voice gruff. “All that matters is getting Sophie back. I couldn’t care less what you’re wearing when we do it.”
Jane smirked in triumph at Depogare. Apparently, this gave her the win.
“At least you don’t look like you’re going to a funeral,” Will remarked. He
finally got his cufflink problem fixed and was now looking at himself as a whole with a critical eye. “You’re going to stand out in a black suit, Daryl.”
Will was not kidding. Daryl wore a suit rather than a tuxedo—apparently a government gala was not the place to push comfort levels associated with fashion—and every piece of the suit was black. Currently, his copper hair still fell in his face, but Jane would bet anything that once official purchases were made, he’d slick it back like he usually did.
He looked good, though. Daryl always looked good in a suit.
“Shall I charge your card, Will?” Mamoru asked, popping up in what seemed like a random fashion.
“Sure,” Will agreed. “Ethan will reimburse me. We are on official business, after all.”
The gala was being held at a recently modernized hotel. It was posh and fancy, and Jane wouldn’t have been surprised if her parents had stayed here during their time on the island. It was roughly ten stories, and white Christmas lights still decorated the hotel, making it sparkle against the black sky. Sleek cars pulled up to the hotel driveway, lining up for valet parking. Couples emerged arm in arm, dressed in expensive clothes, looking like movie stars about to walk the red carpet. There were no paparazzi, however. No flashing lights. No pictures. Everything was secret. She wondered what the hotel believed was taking place right now. A ball? A fundraiser?
The Stranger Trilogy Box Set Page 45