“Raven’s not dead,” I said. “She’s alive. And she’s communicating with me through the imprint bond right now.”
“But you said that’s not possible,” Bella said.
“It’s not.” I narrowed my eyes at them, hating them for doubting me. “But it also shouldn’t be possible for a shifter to imprint on a human—or on a vampire.” I looked at Thomas when I said that last part. “The impossible keeps on happening. Clearly, the rules are changing.”
“So reply to her.” Thomas stepped forward, his eyes filled with determination. “Get her to give you more information about this bunker Azazel’s keeping her in.”
I tried again.
Again, she continued on with the original message, like she didn’t hear me at all.
I told the others, and they looked at me with pity. Like I was a child about to have his hopes and dreams snatched from right under his nose.
“Grief and stress can do funny things to our minds, especially when we’re sleep deprived,” Amber finally broke the silence. “Why don’t you go to sleep, and see if you can contact her once you’re awake and fresh tomorrow morning?”
“You don’t believe me.” I sat back in defeat.
How could she think I was imagining this? I’d heard Raven. I knew it.
If they could feel what I did, they’d know it, too.
“I never said that,” she said, although it was obviously what she was thinking. “But you said yourself that she’s not receiving your messages. Maybe you’ve exhausted yourself to the point where you can’t reach her. You’ll be better able to help her once you’ve rested and can get a message through to her.”
“Maybe,” I said. “I just don’t think I can sleep now. Not when our imprint bond feels stronger than ever.”
“I bet you’ll find that won’t be the case once you get into bed,” Amber said with a knowing smile.
I looked away from her, overcome by a memory of a similar conversation I’d once had with Raven. It was back at the Montgomery pool house, on the first night we’d met. She’d been through a lot that day, and she needed sleep. But she kept asking me endless questions about the supernatural world. I’d found it annoying at the time. So I told her I’d answer her questions if she could lie down in bed for five minutes and not fall asleep.
She’d fallen asleep in three.
I’d do anything to go back to that moment, when Raven was nearby and safe.
“At least your imprint bond feels strong,” Thomas said. “Mine with Sage feels weaker than ever.”
“How so?” I asked.
“It feels like it’s muffled. I’m worried it means something happened to her…” The vampire prince rarely worried about anything, but in that moment, clear concern radiated in his eyes. “What did your imprint bond with Raven feel like when she was close to death?”
“It didn’t change,” I said, not sure what he was getting at here.
Did he think Sage was dying?
“But Raven was dying,” Thomas said. “I saw her. She would have died without my help. That didn’t affect your imprint bond at all?”
“No.” I shrugged, unsure if this was good or bad. “I’ve never heard of an imprint bond feeling muffled. It’s either there, or not. Nothing in between.”
“So it doesn’t mean she’s hurt?”
“I don’t know.” I wished I could tell him something more helpful. “Maybe it has to do with you being a vampire?”
“Maybe.” He didn’t look convinced. “But the witches are right—we should get to bed. We have the first part of our plan to put into action tomorrow. We’ll be more useful if we’re rested and focused.”
“Right,” I said in a daze, following Amber as she showed us to our rooms.
Once settled in, I lay in bed, listening to Raven sending the same message on repeat. Despite promising the others that I’d get some rest, I continued trying to communicate with her in return.
Each time, I failed.
Eventually, her words stopped, and sometime after that, I drifted off to sleep.
13
Raven
We were awoken the next morning by an annoyingly perky bugle call blasting from the hallway. I groaned and held my hands to my ears, wanting it to stop.
Thanks to Suzanne’s “introduction to bunker life” lesson yesterday, I knew what the bugle call meant. We had five minutes to get ourselves up and ready for breakfast. So I grabbed my toiletries basket and hurried to get ready, not wanting to risk standing out by being late.
As warned by Jessica, breakfast was a big bland bowl of oatmeal. It was accompanied by a side of fruit and a glass of orange juice. Like dinner, we were expected to finish every bite.
It was a meal I was familiar with, since the entire thing was vegan. My mom loved making oatmeal in the mornings. I never had a taste for it, but eating it now made me feel closer to her. I’d bet breakfast was her favorite part of the day at this place.
As we dug in, Jessica brought up her theory about my gift being the power of persuasion. The others agreed it was possible, but I still didn’t know. It didn’t feel right.
Once Harry finished his oatmeal, I tested the theory by telling him to lick his bowl clean. I tried using my “gift” to convince him to do it.
It didn’t work.
“Maybe it only works when you really want someone to do something,” Jessica said. “How badly did you want him to lick his bowl?”
“I wanted him to do it so we could figure out if that was my gift or not,” I said. “So yeah, I wanted him to do it pretty badly.”
“Hm.” Jessica clearly believed me—obviously, because I was telling the truth. She sat back and crossed her arms, looking unsatisfied.
There went that theory.
Once everyone in the cafeteria was finished eating, Marco marched over to our table and hovered over me.
Fear pounded in my chest. I’d been doing everything possible to blend in and not bring attention to myself.
What had I done wrong?
“Number thirty-three,” he said, looking down at me. Apparently the demons addressed us by our numbers, and not by our names. “Follow me.”
I looked around at the others at my table in alarm.
“It’s your assessment with the doctor,” Pam said quickly. “Go. You’ll be fine.”
Of course. Suzanne had told me yesterday that I’d be going to the doctor after breakfast for my assessment.
I took a deep breath and followed Marco out of the cafeteria, trying to get a hold of myself. I needed to be on my a-game. Which meant I couldn’t let this place turn me into a frazzled mess.
He led me down the hall. We passed the doors that led to the places Suzanne had shown me yesterday, and he opened one on the end.
The balding man from the cafeteria—the one the others had told me was the doctor—waited inside with a clipboard in hand. The room looked like a regular doctors office, although it was bigger, with some gym equipment inside as well.
“I’m Doctor Foster.” His voice trembled as he introduced himself, and he didn’t look at Marco or me. “Please take a seat.” He motioned toward the examination table, and I did as asked.
Once I was seated, Marco left the room, shutting the door closed behind him.
Now that we were alone, I watched the doctor in anticipation. “I’m Raven,” I said, even though he hadn’t asked for my name.
He was clearly nervous. Hopefully getting on his good side would help get me information.
He took a seat in the chair across from me, still not looking at me. Instead, he focused on his clipboard and asked a few basic questions, like my age and height. He diligently wrote down my answers, keeping his eyes on his paper the entire time.
It was like he was trying to stop himself from seeing me as a living being.
“Did you take any medications prior to arriving here?” He spoke about this place like it was somewhere I’d chosen to be, instead of somewhere I’d been taken prisoner.
&
nbsp; “Just the birth control pill,” I said.
“So you’re strong in mind?” he asked. “No mental health conditions we need to be aware of?”
“None.”
He nodded, apparently content with that response. “Any physical conditions?” he asked. “Prior surgeries?”
“Nope,” I said. “Well, I had surgery to get my wisdom teeth out when I was eighteen. Does that count?”
“It doesn’t apply to what we need to know here,” he said, although he jotted something down just the same.
“What do we need to know here?” I leaned forward and held tightly onto the edge of the examination table. “We’re prisoners. Why’s our health so important? What are the demons getting us ready for?”
Because that had to be what was going on, right? The demons were getting us ready for something?
If they thought they were going to get gifted humans to help in their fight against the supernaturals, they could forget it. I’d never help them. I’d die first.
I’d never felt so strongly about something that I’d die for it, but I hated the demons more than I’d ever hated anyone in my life.
Doctor Foster glanced up at me behind his glasses, pity crossing his eyes. “You and the others here are very, very special,” he said slowly. “As I’m sure you already know.”
“The others might be special,” I said. “I’m not.”
“You don’t know what your gift is?”
“No idea.” I shrugged. “I’d say it was a mistake that I was brought here, but the demons didn’t seem to think that was possible.”
He wrote my response down, focused on the clipboard again. “We’ll figure out what your gift is soon enough,” he said. “But let’s move onto your family history. Any medical problems—mental or physical—with your parents or siblings that I should know about?”
“You already know my mom.” I smiled sweetly, unable to keep the condensation from my tone. “Skylar Danvers. She was here up until a few days ago. You’ve met her, I assume?”
He looked at me like he was seeing a ghost. “Yes,” he mumbled, quickly averting his eyes again. “I did.”
“Do you know what happened to her? Where she was moved to?” My emotions were getting the best of me. I was getting over annoyed—and over enthusiastic. But I couldn’t help it. I was trapped, angry, and afraid.
Doctor Foster knew what was going on here. He had to. And he was helping the demons.
Why would he do that?
He probably didn’t want to do it. He was so skittish that I had a feeling he was being coerced. Which meant he could be on my side. On the side of the gifted humans.
Which meant maybe—just maybe—I could get him to help me.
14
Raven
“Your mother was in excellent health, and was moved to the next location,” he said, refocusing on his clipboard. “So there are no health concerns on your mom’s side of the family. What about your dad? Siblings?”
“No siblings.” I stared at him, trying to will him to open up to me. “And I don’t know about my dad. He bolted before I was born.”
It was what I always told people. But my dad didn’t actually bolt anywhere. He was a guy from another country my mom had hooked up with on vacation. When she told him she was pregnant, he sent her money to get an abortion. But she couldn’t bring herself to go through with it. She told him as much, and he said it wasn’t his problem since he’d given her the money to take care of it.
As far as I was concerned, he wasn’t my problem, either.
People usually felt bad when they found out. But I was fine with it. He might be my biological father, but he was no dad. You couldn’t miss something you never had. Well, in this case, someone.
Doctor Foster continued on to the physical examination, still not bothering with any small talk.
As he took my weight, height, blood pressure, listened to my heart, had me breathe as long as I could into a machine, and all the other things doctors do, I realized why the best doctors were also good at conversing with patients. This was all extremely awkward with a doctor who refused to acknowledge me as anything other than a specimen to be observed.
The exercise part of the assessment was less awkward, but it kicked my butt.
First he had me run on a treadmill with a heart rate monitor connected to my chest. I’d never been much of a runner. It didn’t take long until I was huffing for air and sweating like crazy.
At last he let me stop, only to have me do as many push-ups in a row as possible. I did a few—I think I at least made it to ten—before my arms shook and gave up.
Next was the wall sit. I’d never done a wall sit before, so I had no idea what was good or not. But I didn’t reach half a minute before my legs felt like they were on fire.
As for pull-ups, that was impossible. I couldn’t do one.
Sit ups, I could handle. Sort of. Same with leg raises. But just when I thought maybe I wasn’t completely awful at all this stuff, he had me plank for as long as I could. Which was around twenty seconds, if I was being generous.
The one part I didn’t completely flunk at was flexibility. I might not be able to do a push up, but I could touch my toes without bending my knees. Go me.
By the end of it all, my hair was dripping with sweat, and I knew my face was likely as red as a tomato.
“How often did you go to the gym before arriving here?” Doctor Foster asked after finally confirming we were done.
“Never.” I used the back of my wrist wipe sweat from my brow. “Obviously.”
“Why not?” he asked.
“I was double majoring in psychology and biology.” Well, at least that’s what I was doing before my memories were erased and replaced and I was forced to take the spring semester off. “Between classes, labs, studying, and sleep, I didn’t have time for the gym.”
Not like I would have gone anyway, but whatever. I stopped exercising after it was no longer mandatory in high school.
“I remember those days.” He glanced off at the far wall, looking slightly happy for the first time since I’d seen him. But whatever bit of happiness he was experiencing disappeared a second later, and he returned to filling out the papers on the clipboard. “Not to worry. I’ll get an exercise program ready for you. It’ll be delivered to your bed after breakfast tomorrow. You certainly have a long way to go, but I doubt it’ll take you nearly as long as some of the others. While you might not have previously enjoyed exercise enough to train to your potential, athleticism is in your blood. Your mom is proof enough of that.”
After having my butt handed to me during the assessment, I suspected my dad wasn’t athletic at all. He must have given me all of his genes in that area. But I wasn’t going to fight the doctor on this one. Especially since he’d just opened up the window to talk about my mom again.
“I know you can’t tell me where they took her,” I said. “But if I write a note to her, do you think you’d be able to get it to her? Please?” I eyed up the paper and pen in his hand—he had the materials.
I just wanted to communicate with her so she’d know I was here and okay, and that I’d see her soon. I’d have to be careful about what I wrote—I wasn’t naive enough to think the demons wouldn’t see the note—but it was better than nothing.
His hands shook around the clipboard, and he looked everywhere in the room but at me. “I’m afraid I can’t do that,” he said. “All I can do is encourage you to strengthen up as quickly as you can. Then you’ll be brought to the next location and can see her yourself.”
“What do the demons want with us?” I changed angles, since appealing to his emotions clearly wasn’t working. “Why do they need us strong to do it?”
Could whatever we were doing in here be the demonic equivalent to the Angel Trials? It would make sense. From the little information I had about the Angel Trials, the point of them was to strengthen us up to become Nephilim.
Was there a demonic equivalent to Nephilim? And if
so, were the demons trying to turn us into it?
“I’m not at liberty to discuss this any further.” Doctor Foster walked to the door and opened it. “It’s time for you to leave, Ms. Danvers. Lunch will be served soon, and I’m sure that after the assessment you just had, you’ve worked up quite the appetite.”
Marco appeared in the hallway, eyeing me up like he didn’t like what he was seeing.
Had he been listening the entire time?
I wouldn’t be surprised. I also needed to be more careful.
But I’d certainly learned one important thing from that assessment—Doctor Foster wasn’t going to give me any information.
Which meant my only hope rested with the other gifted humans.
15
Noah
As was customary for supernaturals, the group of us staying at the Devereux mansion was keeping a nocturnal schedule.
But thanks to one day delivery, the equipment Thomas ordered last night was waiting at Amber’s doorstop when we woke up the next evening.
Human technology amazed me. For all my life, all I’d known had been the mountains of the Vale. Most of my time there had been spent in my wolf form. Occasionally my pack and I would shift into our human forms, and during that time I heard stories of the outside world. But all they knew of the human world was from before the Great War, which had happened nearly a century ago.
The amount the humans had progressed since then was remarkable. They’d become more technologically advanced than I could have imagined. I truly would have been lost if Sage hadn’t taken me under her wing after I’d arrived in LA.
I hoped that wherever Sage was, she was okay. I didn’t want to worry Thomas, but what he said about his imprint bond with her feeling muffled couldn’t be good.
I tried again to reach out to Raven through the imprint bond, but I couldn’t hear her anymore. At least the imprint bond was still there, which meant she was still alive. But after the way the others had reacted to the message I’d gotten from her last night, they weren’t going to believe me unless she sent something I could prove—or if she responded to me.
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