Chris (Second Wave Book 4)

by Mikayla Lane

  “I don’t have a key,” Ainsley said quickly, leaning closer to the window in the door. “I may be able to get one though. I can’t promise anything.”

  Quinn reached a hand through the window in the door and gently touched Ainsley’s soft hair in the best version of a hug she could manage through a wide, thick wooden door.

  “Thank you, Ainsley. You’re an angel!” Quinn whispered in gratitude. It was the first flash of hope she’d had in days, and she’d desperately needed the boost to her flagging spirits.

  They both looked down the hallway when they heard the door at the end open, and Ainsley immediately jumped away from Quinn’s room. Quinn couldn’t see who it was, but she was grateful the young woman had the intelligence to try and cover that they were speaking.

  “Go eat now. I’ll be back in the morning with breakfast; I promise,” Ainsley said sternly then walked down the hallway shaking her head.

  “The miss thought we were going to starve her to death,” Ainsley said before Quinn heard the hall door slam shut. She flinched at the large metallic scrape and thump of a heavy bolt being slid into place.

  You really scared the hell out of them, baby, Quinn thought as she rubbed her stomach then leaned down to grab the tray. She wasn’t lying when she said she was starving, and she was praying they hadn’t decided to poison this meal as well.

  She sighed in relief when she was able to pick up the tray and carry it to the table without throwing up. It was a good sign that the food was good. She lifted the plastic lid off the tray and breathed in the aromatic steam.

  Even though she was halfway around the world in England, someone had made an effort to make foods that were familiar to her. Quinn was pretty impressed when she looked down at half of a rosemary roasted chicken, roasted new potatoes with parsley, and a winter vegetable medley. She refused to look at the luscious piece of chocolate cake, determined to eat something healthy for the baby first.

  Her son had other ideas and began to kick in a determined rhythm until Quinn grinned and relented—not that it would have taken much to change her mind to begin with. It’d been like that for a month, and although she was pretty sure it was just a coincidence, she enjoyed thinking it was her son telling her what he wanted to eat first.

  “OK, we’ll have the cake first, but we’re eating all of the vegetables afterwards,” Quinn said aloud as she put the plate of cake in front of her.

  She dug out a huge forkful of the cake and held it suspended in front of her mouth and waited.

  “Not eating it until you agree to the vegetables,” she teased.

  Suddenly there was one weak kick, and she took that as reluctant agreement and put the forkful of cake in her mouth. She closed her eyes and groaned as the creamy icing melted on the roof of her mouth.

  “Oh, this is so good,” Quinn said as she grabbed another forkful of the decadent cake.

  She smiled at what she assumed was a kick of agreement and patted her stomach affectionately.

  “You have excellent taste in cake, baby, but we need to work on the vegetables,” she whispered. “When we get home, I’ll make you my broccoli casserole.”

  Quinn giggled when she felt a sharp frustrated kick.

  “You would love it, baby. Trust me.”

  She kept up a running conversation with her baby while she ate dinner, explaining each food item, how much she liked it or didn’t, and how she cooked at home—anything to break the awful silence and keep her hopes up.

  She finished her dinner and slid the tray under the door, making sure not to slam it into the wall and dump it if Ainsley was going to be delivering her food from now on. She knew she wouldn’t be able to enlist the girl’s help if she was difficult to deal with.

  Quinn attempted to do as many exercises as she could in her condition before finally laying on the bed in exhaustion. She stared up at the ceiling and let out a frustrated breath.

  “So we still have to agree on your name, little guy. You are a little man, aren’t you?” she asked, pretty certain she was carrying a little boy.

  Quinn chose to believe the heavy kick was confirmation of her baby’s gender, and she grinned as she gently rubbed her stomach.

  “What about Edgar?” she asked teasingly, hating the name herself.

  When she got no responding kick, she tried again.

  “Bradley?”

  There was only a tiny movement, and Quinn took that as the little guy not being thrilled with that choice either.

  “He likes Chris,” Ainsley said from the doorway, scaring the hell out of Quinn.

  Quinn sat up in the bed, stunned she hadn’t heard the girl open the heavy door at the end of the hallway or even her footsteps on the stone floor.

  “Hi, Ainsley,” Quinn said, recovering from her fright quickly.

  “I didn’t mean to scare you,” the girl whispered as she looked at the floor.

  Quinn chuckled as she walked over and leaned against the door.

  “Trust me. I’m really glad it’s you,” Quinn admitted.

  “The others aren’t really nice to me either, so I know how you feel,” the girl admitted softly.

  “I’m so sorry, Ainsley. Don’t let them get to you; you seem to be a wonderful person,” Quinn said, hoping the others weren’t abusing the poor girl. Quinn wasn’t sure why, but she liked her.

  Ainsley shrugged and sighed.

  “It’s not that bad. Anyway . . . your son wants to be named after his father, Chris,” Ainsley said softly.

  Quinn chuckled nervously as her mind raced for a response.

  “Well, now that would be an interesting twist wouldn’t it? Especially since I barely remember the guy who fathered him,” she replied, hoping the girl wouldn’t know she was lying.

  How in the hell did Ainsley know his name? Quinn wondered. Maybe she just guessed?

  “The beast always knows who they came from. Your son’s beast says his father’s name is Chris, and you do remember him,” Ainsley whispered, stunning Quinn, whose mouth dropped open in surprise.

  “How do you know that?” Quinn asked, realizing she’d failed to hide her shock

  “I can talk to your son’s beast,” Ainsley said calmly, as if such a thing were a normal every day event.

  It was starting to make sense to Quinn, and she trembled in horror at her suspicions.

  “Ainsley, where is your mother?”

  “I think they killed her after I was born,” Ainsley admitted, her tone strangely calm for such a horrible statement.

  Quinn sucked in a sharp breath and stepped back from the door for a moment.

  “Ainsley, that’s awful. I’m so, so sorry. Why do you stay here?” she asked, wondering if she’d been wrong about the girl being innocent.

  “I didn’t know her. Not really. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to feel about it. When I hear you talk to your baby I get flashes in my mind of a different voice. A loving one. Like the love you give your baby,” Ainsley whispered.

  Quinn didn’t think she could be more shocked than she already was, but Ainsley managed to do it.

  “You remember being inside your mother? You could feel her love? My baby can too?” she asked, her voice cracking at the thought that her son may not forget her if she died before she could escape.

  “I think the beast saves the memories and emotions for us,” Ainsley said softly. “But I don’t know for sure. I’m not allowed to talk to my beast. Where I grew up, they beat us if we spoke to our beast. We’re only supposed to use its abilities, not talk to it. They give us a pill to take every day to stop it from speaking.”

  “But you’re talking to my son’s beast?” Quinn asked in confusion.

  Ainsley nodded.

  “We’re allowed to talk to other beasts, but not our own. I heard from a few of the others girls that got placed with me that they’re afraid if we talk to our beasts, we’ll run away,” the girl admitted.

  “What do you mean ‘placed?’ Did you grow up here?” Quinn asked.

&n
bsp; “No, I grew up with other girls in Scotland. We were put through tests. Lots of tests. For every test we passed, we moved forward until we’re allowed to be placed elsewhere to learn our jobs,” Ainsley explained.

  “What jobs?” Quinn asked, wondering what they could want a teenager to do.

  “We’re all supposed to be enforcers for the master. He’s the one who wants your baby,” Ainsley whispered, looking behind her fearfully.

  “Who is the master?” Quinn asked, wondering if she’d met him yet.

  “His name is Satalis. He has power. More power than I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen a lot. He scares us all, even the ones who pretend to be fearless,” Ainsley said.

  “Is he here?” Quinn asked, hoping that he wasn’t. Something about hearing the name had sent a shiver of dread down her spine.

  “No, not yet. He’s waiting until your son is born before he comes. He’s very excited about your baby because he’s different from the rest of us. The master and the others called him a Dranovian,” Ainsley explained.

  Quinn was shaken when she heard the name again. That drunken night she’d shared with Chris, he had said something to her about being a Dranovian and wishing he wasn’t so he could be with her.

  “Do you know what a Dranovian is?” Quinn asked.

  Ainsley shook her head.

  “No, I’ve never heard of it before. I know your baby is very powerful. More than any other that I’ve seen, besides the master,” Ainsley admitted.

  “Ainsley, what is an enforcer? What do they do?” Quinn asked, afraid to know the answer.

  “We kill anyone the master tells us too. If we live to 24, then we’re brought back in to be mated with the male the master chooses for us. Then he takes our babies from us, and we go back to killing,” Ainsley said simply, as if it were no different than working an office job.

  Quinn was so horrified she couldn’t find words as her mind whirled with the future they had planned for her precious son.

  Hell no! Not my baby! Quinn screamed in her mind before she looked over at Ainsley’s pretty blue eyes looking back at her.

  “Why are you telling me this?” Quinn asked suspiciously.

  “Because I think they’re going to make me kill you after you have your baby,” Ainsley said nonchalantly.

  Quinn sucked in a startled breath and stepped back from the door as her hands went protectively to her stomach and cradled her son.

  “Don’t be scared! I don’t want to do it!” Ainsley shouted before she lowered her voice. “I don’t think I can do it. There must be something wrong with me because I don’t like being mean. Not like the rest who really seem to like that. There are a few of us that don’t take well to the program. We’re supposed to try harder to do better, but we can’t. Something inside stops us from doing the things they want.”

  Ainsley sounded so heartbroken over her lack of ability to kill indiscriminately that Quinn was stunned at the kind of upbringing that would make such a horrible act seem normal.

  “Ainsley, it’s not a bad thing that you’re not a killer. Most people,” Quinn said, trying not to think of her own terrible childhood, “don’t grow up that way. You were supposed to be raised by at least one loving parent, and they took that from you!”

  “I know,” Ainsley said with a nod. “Me and the others watched TV and read books. We know how other people are allowed to live.”

  “Ainsley, why don’t you run away?” Quinn asked, wondering if the master had a way of tracking the kids.

  Ainsley touched a hand to her neck.

  “They have a thing in us that kills us if we try to leave,” she whispered. “They made us watch it when we were little. There was a boy who kept trying to escape and get away from them, and they had us watch from the windows as he ran across the yard. All of a sudden, part of his neck exploded. It was horrible.”

  “Oh my god,” Quinn whispered, closing her eyes as she thought about how horrible it must have been for a child to witness.

  “I’m going to die no matter what. I know that. Most of us know that. I’m just trying to decide if I’m going to do it on my terms or theirs,” Ainsley said, speaking with more wisdom than a child should possess.

  “Ainsley . . .” Quinn began then stopped because she had no idea what to say.

  She knew that if she was in Ainsley’s shoes, she’d probably be thinking the same thing and wondering what her last act of defiance would be. Quinn just hoped that freeing her would be a part of that last act.

  “Don’t worry. I have no intention of hurting you. That’s the only reason your baby and his beast aren’t killing me. They know I’m not a threat,” Ainsley said off-handedly.

  “Thank you,” Quinn said, not sure what to say to a girl who was little more than a child and making life and death decisions. But she was grateful that Ainsley was one person she wouldn’t have to worry about when she went into labor.

  “You’re tired. Your baby wants you to sleep. I’ll come back in the morning with your breakfast,” Ainsley said with a sigh.

  “Ainsley, thank you. I mean that. Thank you so much. Maybe we can find a way for both of us to get out of here. Think about it,” Quinn said before she shuffled wearily to the bed and sat heavily. “Good night, Ainsley. I hope you sleep well.”

  “Good night, Quinn.”

  Quinn listened intently and when she didn’t hear Ainsley leave or the heavy hall door she stood and moved as quietly as she could back to the door. She peeked out the window and couldn’t see the girl anywhere.

  Not believing the girl could disappear so quietly like that, she knelt on the cold stone floor and looked underneath the large gap under the door.

  Where the hell did she go? Quinn wondered when she didn’t see anyone in the hallway.

  She struggled back to her feet and climbed back in the bed, pulling the covers over herself. She burrowed deep in the warm blankets and wished she’d stoked the fire before she’d gotten in bed to combat the evening chill.

  She was only a little surprised when there was a blue arc of light from her abdomen that shot across the room and zapped the logs she’d placed on the fire earlier. Moments later the fire was roaring, and she could already feel the heat chasing the chill from the air.

  “Thank you, baby,” she whispered as her eyes grew heavy. “Maybe you can get that beast of yours to help me figure out a way to get us and Ainsley out of this horrible place. She doesn’t belong here either.”

  Several minutes later, Quinn was snoring softly in the bed and never heard the heavy sigh that came from the hallway where Ainsley appeared to be suspended on the wall beside the door.

  With her hands and feet placed flat against the stone wall, Ainsley slowly moved down until she could jump from the wall to the floor. She moved silently to the door and peered inside to make sure that Quinn was well before she ran down the hallway, and right before she reached the door at the end, she disappeared.

  Chapter Six

  Chris stormed through the abandoned lead mine that Grai converted into a compound near Alston, Cumbria, as he searched for Mikal. He sighed in relief when he walked into the kitchen and found him.

  “There you are! When the hell are we leaving?” Chris demanded.

  Mikal turned from the coffee pot with one white eyebrow quirked as he stirred his coffee.

  “We talked about you remaining calm,” Mikal said instead of answering Chris’s question.

  “Don’t give me that shit,” Chris said as he ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “It’s in the middle of nowhere, and there’s no reason we can’t at least go there and get eyes on the place!”

  Mikal considered pouring a cup of coffee for Chris and thought better of it. His brother didn’t need anything else to boost his adrenaline. Instead, he leaned against the counter and slowly sipped his coffee.

  “Deacon dropped a four-man team around the perimeter 20 minutes ago. I’m waiting for them to report in,” Mikal admitted, hoping to keep his brother calm and rational.<
br />
  Chris looked at his watch in irritation.

  “When the fuck are they supposed to check in?” he demanded.

  “You better watch that tone with me, brother. My patience and understanding only reach so far before my fist will cover the rest of the way,” Mikal warned, sipping his coffee as if he were speaking of the weather.

  Chris gritted his teeth and clenched his fists in anger. He was tired of everyone dragging their feet, and he began stomping across the floor towards Mikal when the coffee pot suddenly exploded in a shower of sparks.

  Mikal disappeared and reappeared behind Chris, coffee cup in hand as shards of glass and plastic flew several feet from where the coffee pot once sat on the counter.

  “And that would be a good indication you need to roll back now,” Mikal muttered, glad he’d gotten the last cup of coffee before the damn pot had exploded.

  Chris muttered a string of curses as the fire alarm went off and the fire suppression system kicked in, sending water showering from the ceiling. Mikal disappeared again and reappeared just outside of the kitchen door, sighing at his now watered down coffee.

  “I think I’m going to kick your ass just for the coffee pot,” Mikal said as he glared at Chris.

  Chris stood in the middle of the room and shook his fists at the water falling from the ceiling before he roared in anger. He turned to Mikal, his blue eyes sparking like blue flames as his power began to flow unchecked.

  Mikal took one look at his powerful brother’s eyes sparking as water poured down his body, his chest heaving with his angry breaths while the anger rolled off of him in waves, and Mikal burst out laughing.

  “I’ll kick your ass later, you fool,” Mikal said. “Get the hell out of there before you drown, and go get dry. Gun has news, so meet me in the conference room when you’re done. And do something about the sparky thing before you scare the hell out of the girls. Angel is volatile right now, and you don’t want to find out if she can pull your asshole through your mouth. Now go.”

  Mikal grinned and shook his head before he headed down the hall to the conference room.