The Complete Lost Children Series

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The Complete Lost Children Series Page 65

by Krista Street


  He cocked an eyebrow as I stood there staring at him.

  I didn’t bother trying to hide my irritation. “Do you think you could untie my hands next time?”

  He actually blushed. “Oh, right. Sorry.”

  Huffing, I glanced down the hall. He tensed and stepped in front of me. “Don’t try running again.”

  “Or what? You’ll fry me?”

  For a brief second, his lips tugged up. Pulling me forward, he propelled me to the end of the hall, deeper into the hanger. Another door waited at the end. Cold dread slithered around me like a coiling snake.

  I again pulled back, trying to slow us. It didn’t help. “What are we doing now?”

  Raven grasped the door handle before swinging it open. “Now, you’re meeting Marcus.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Those four words made my gut grow cold.

  Now I meet Marcus. I’m going to see Marcus again.

  The last time I saw Marcus had only been two weeks ago, when my family and I broke into O’Brien’s warehouse to rescue Luke, Susannah and Edgar. Marcus had appeared while I’d been alone planting bombs. The way his outline hovered in the doorway, as cool night air swirled his trench coat around his legs was ingrained in my memory. He’d been so sure we’d be captured. But he’d underestimated me. I’d blasted him out of the warehouse into the parking lot behind it. From there, I’d ran and we’d all escaped.

  My cheeks flushed when Raven prodded me inside. With trepidation, I stepped forward.

  The room we entered was the exact opposite to the rest of the hanger. For one, it was carpeted. The soft texture muted our footsteps. I stopped at the threshold, staring in surprise.

  Thankfully, there was no sign of Marcus.

  Similar to the rest of the building, this room held no windows. However, that wasn’t what drew my attention. Instead, it was everything else. Ornate furnishings surrounded a glowing gas fireplace. The fireplace stood in the middle of the room. Glass encompassed all four corners of it, so no matter where you were, you could see the bluish flames.

  On the far wall stood built-in bookshelves. Most of the shelves were empty. A few had rows of novels. Music played softly from surround sound speakers. Beethoven’s ninth symphony. A dining table and chairs were set up to the right. Dishes and juice glasses sat on it. A basket of pastries and a bowl of freshly cut up fruit filled the middle of the table. Scents of coffee drifted toward me.

  My stomach grumbled. I hadn’t eaten since last night, and I was guessing it was morning now.

  A jangle of keys sounded. Raven’s hands brushed mine when he unlocked the handcuffs. I shook my arms when they were loose.

  “Have a seat.” Raven gestured toward the table.

  My gaze darted to the door.

  Raven’s hand clamped around my bicep. His eyes swirled brighter. “Lena, have a seat.” His tone was calm but firm.

  I tried to wrench my arm free.

  His grip tightened and a small fire erupted a few feet from me, burning in mid-air.

  My eyes widened.

  “Sit.”

  I didn’t want to. I wanted to kick and flail and act like a raving lunatic to show him I wouldn’t be so easily controlled. We both stood staring at one another. Tension oozed between us, like electrically charged particles right before a thunderstorm, as if neither was sure what the other would do next. His grip tightened. A fire erupted inches from my face.

  I sighed. “Fine, I’ll sit, but can you tell me what time it is?”

  The fire extinguished. “Just after seven in the morning.”

  So I’d been missing for around eight hours. Eight hours of Flint having no idea where I was or what was being done to me. And eight hours where I had no idea where he was or what was being done to him. And sixteen hours before I’d have my powers back. I swallowed thickly.

  “Are you going to have a seat now?”

  The carpet sank under my boots as I walked to the table.

  Raven gripped my arm the entire way. I expected him to pull out the chair across from me and join me for breakfast, but he didn’t.

  “Aren’t you going to sit too?”

  He shook his head and walked to the far bookshelf.

  The sound of a door opening made my gaze fly to the corner of the room. A door blended into the wood paneling.

  My breath stopped as Marcus appeared. Raven barely glanced up.

  Marcus stepped into the room. Cold eyes met mine. He was dressed immaculately in a three piece charcoal gray suit and tie. Dark, leather shoes covered his feet. His hair was expertly styled and as he drew closer, I smelled a hint of expensive cologne.

  All hunger rumblings vanished. I straightened in my seat, my legs tensing, ready to jump at any second. Marcus just smiled, his eyes never leaving mine.

  He looked exactly as he had on the news segments, minus the scrape on his cheek. Cold, calculating and deadly. Like a shark circling its prey.

  “Galena.” He pulled out the chair across from me and sat gracefully.

  Everything about him hinted at a privileged upbringing: his clothes, manicured fingernails, expert haircut, everything. I figured he was as rich as Father.

  Marcus fluffed the large, linen napkin beside his plate and settled it on his lap. “It’s nice to see you again.”

  A memory crashed upon me so suddenly, I gasped. It was of being tied to a metal gurney, while Marcus stood above me, smiling as he filled a syringe. I couldn’t have been older than four. I’d been terrified as I stared at him. Father hadn’t been in the facility that day, and Marcus had taken advantage of that. When I’d peed myself as he poked me maliciously with the needle, he’d simply looked at my urine soaked pants and shook his head. “Really Galena, you’re old enough to know better than that.” The medicine had burned as it crawled up my veins. I’d started crying then, silent tears rolling down my cheeks. I’d wished so badly that Father was there. He’d never hurt me like that. The few times Father had given me a drug, he’d held me on his lap, crooning to me.

  But not Marcus. Throughout it all, Marcus had just raised an eyebrow at my trembling figure, continuing with his work as if I were merely an inconsequential pion.

  “You look quite pale.” His voice pulled me back to the present. He reached for the pastries. “Hungry?” He held the basket out for me.

  His eyes were gray and empty of emotion. I wondered if he ever felt anything. He was completely devoid of empathy—I’d learned that much as a small child. Now, sitting in front of him as an adult, I still felt terrified. I wished I could throw the basket in his face or spit in his orange juice, but all I did was stare. Fear once again coated me, making me incapacitated.

  It was exactly how I’d initially felt in the Chicago warehouse two weeks ago. Only then, I’d had my ability to call upon.

  Now, I had nothing.

  A flushed feeling crept up my cheeks again and more than anything, I wanted to bolt, but I knew that was useless. One, I sat as frozen as a statue, like a scared rabbit, hunted and cornered, unable to move. And two, I had no power. Without being able to form energy balls, and with Raven standing quietly by the bookshelf, thumbing through a book, I had no way of escaping.

  My shoulders slumped. Despair swam through me.

  Knowing I needed to keep my strength up, as nauseated as I felt at the thought of eating, I hesitantly took a warm roll. It flaked a little in my grip. I sniffed it. It didn’t smell poisoned.

  Marcus picked up a pot. “Now, coffee or tea?”

  After a few awkward minutes, in which Marcus presented me with food, and I reluctantly took a small helping of everything—we sat facing each other with full plates and steaming cups of coffee. He began eating first. I hesitantly followed. His first question, however, almost make me choke.

  “How did you like your time in San Francisco?”

  I hastily took a drink of juice to keep from coughing uncontrollably. What is this? Small talk? My mind raced. He’d said, how did you.

  Does that m
ean I’m no longer in the city? Am I even in California?

  “Where are we?”

  Marcus cocked his head. “Didn’t Conroy teach you better manners? It’s rude to be so direct.”

  “Why did you take me?”

  He leaned back in his chair, sighing. “Such manners.”

  I balked. “You really think manners apply to this situation? You’ve kidnapped me, drugged me and are holding me prisoner!”

  Marcus eyed me coldly. “I hardly think taking back what’s mine is qualified as kidnapping.”

  “You think I’m yours?”

  “Of course you are, just as the others you grew up with are.”

  My mouth dropped. “So what are we to you? Pets?”

  He chuckled and dabbed at the corners of his mouth with his napkin. “Hardly. You’re like children to me.”

  My blood boiled so hot I felt my cheeks flush red. I shoved my plate away and stood so abruptly my chair tumbled over. It barely made a sound when it hit the thick carpet. “I will never belong to you!”

  Marcus raised an eyebrow as Raven raced over from the bookshelf. I’m not entirely sure why. It’s not as though I was a threat. Without my ability to see and manipulate clouds, I was a defenseless woman who’s only weapon was her heavy boots. Perhaps I could pull one leg back and nail Marcus squarely in the shin. It would hardly immobilize him, but it would leave a nasty bruise. I smiled inwardly at the thought.

  “Galena, please, that’s enough. Calm down.”

  Marcus’ unflappable demeanor dampened my anger. Fear crept into its place. He truly didn’t seem to care what he did to me or my family. We were simply pawns to him, in the larger plan he had for O’Brien. Whatever that was.

  “Sit down.” Marcus’ gaze never left mine.

  Raven righted the chair. I reluctantly sat. Raven returned to the bookshelf. Not once had he met my gaze since Marcus entered the room.

  Marcus raised an eyebrow. “It doesn’t have to be like this. I have much to offer you.”

  I eyed him skeptically.

  “If you cooperate, you’ll find it will work to your advantage.”

  “Where’s my family?” The question escaped me before I could stop it. I knew Marcus would most likely lie, tell me he had all of them and would torture them until I did what he wanted. It’s why I hadn’t asked anyone. I wondered if Raven would tell me the truth. I knew Dumber and Trevor certainly wouldn’t.

  Marcus leaned back in his chair, his cold gaze assessing me. After a second, he leaned forward and reached for his coffee. “I don’t know.”

  My heart pounded. “What do you mean, you don’t know?”

  “I mean that I have no idea where they are. They all escaped last night, which is fine, for the time being. You are who I wanted initially.”

  Joy burst through me, but at the same time, I told myself to control it. “How do I know I can believe you?”

  “You can’t.” He wiped his mouth and put his napkin on the table. His plate was empty. I hadn’t realized he’d kept eating after I’d jumped from my chair.

  “What about Raven?” I sensed Marcus was about to stand. For some reason, I felt bad things were coming once that happened.

  “What about Raven?” Marcus asked coldly.

  “Why haven’t you told him he has a brother and sister?”

  Raven had been thumbing through a book, but his movements froze.

  Marcus raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think he has a brother and sister?”

  “He looks just like Di and Flint, but I don’t understand. Father . . . I mean Conroy, never said anything about them having another sibling. Did you split them up at birth? Is that why we didn’t know about Raven?”

  Marcus’ eyes narrowed. “You’re making assumptions where you shouldn’t.”

  “Why? Because then Raven might want to meet them? Maybe learn more about the blood family he has? The brother and sister who would be thrilled to meet him?”

  “His blood family is dead.”

  “No, they’re not. They’re alive and well, and I’m guessing, at this very moment, looking for me, and if they knew about him, they’d be looking for him too.”

  “He’s not related to them!” Veins bulged in Marcus’ neck. He gripped the table tightly. Marcus’ perfectly cool exterior evaporated. His chest rose and fell as his eyes flashed daggers.

  Raven watched, his mouth dropping.

  I bit my tongue. Sweat erupted on my brow. Once again, the four-year-old inside of me whimpered.

  Marcus continued to gaze at me, visibly struggling to compose himself. A few long seconds passed before he reached up and smoothed back his hair.

  In a way, it was oddly fascinating to watch him rein in the monster. The rapid breathing and protruding veins disappeared. The manic gleam in his eyes fell back, as if being closed behind a curtain. Once again, those irises were devoid of emotion.

  I knew better than to say anything else about Raven. I wouldn’t put it past Marcus to torture me to teach me a lesson, but I had learned one thing. Marcus didn’t want the subject brought up that Raven may be related to Flint and Di.

  It only further convinced me they were related.

  “Now, since you’re done eating, please come with me. There are a few things we need to do.” His cool words flowed over me before he rose elegantly from the table.

  MARCUS TOOK ME through the door in the corner of the room, the one he’d entered through. I tried to resist, but Raven followed, forcing me to move. I tried to make eye contact with Raven before he fell behind me, but he wouldn’t meet my gaze. The more I studied him, however, the more I was convinced he was Di and Flint’s sibling.

  There was no way he wasn’t related to them. It would be like saying Jet and Jasper weren’t brothers when it was so obvious they were. In the carpeted room, I’d seen a few of Raven’s mannerisms. The way he’d ran his hand through his hair a few times, while I was talking to Marcus—it was like watching Flint. Or the way Raven eyed me coolly, assessing me like a specimen under a microscope—it was just like Di.

  My boots made sounds again, once we left the strange sanctuary. The door in the corner led to another concrete hallway. Marcus stopped at the first door and opened it.

  “After you.”

  Everything in me screamed not to go.

  Marcus’ gaze hardened. “Galena . . .”

  A small flame erupted on the floor behind me. I jumped. Hesitantly, I walked forward since it seemed my options were either entering the room or being burned to death.

  A light flicked on when I stepped inside. The room was small with a metal tray, a small cabinet, a chair and what looked like a hospital examination table. Vials of drugs lined a metal tray. A syringe and needle lay beside it. My stomach plummeted.

  “Have a seat on the table.” Marcus walked around me and picked up the syringe.

  “No,” I whispered. I knew what he was going to do.

  “Unfortunately, you don’t have a choice in the matter.” Marcus picked up the vial and plunged the syringe into it. “From that impressive display of your powers the other week, I’m afraid you need to be subdued. It won’t do to have you harming myself or Raven.” He filled the syringe. “I will say that power you conjured piqued my interest. I had no idea you would grow so strong. So many interesting things to study now. However, until I can trust you to not hurt those around you, you need to be kept in line. This drug,” he put the vial back down and flicked the remaining air bubbles to the top of the syringe, “is the only way to guarantee that. Now, you either get on that table willingly or Raven will help you.”

  I whirled around, my curls flying with me. “Raven, please! Please, don’t do this! You have a family! I swear! Di and Flint, they’re your siblings! Please, help me and I’ll take you to them! You’re just like us, I swear! And then you’ll be free—”

  Something pricked my neck.

  I flailed my arms, but it was too late. Marcus pulled his hand back. The syringe was empty.

 
The oily feeling once again coated my veins. The drug swam through my bloodstream like a swimmer being pulled by a current. I was helpless to stop it.

  “Raven . . .” I begged, but once again, my eyes grew heavy.

  “Take her back to her cell. Leave her there until I call for her again.”

  The voice sounded fuzzy and strange. My vision swam in and out of focus before blackness once again descended.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  A heavy, pounding filled my skull. I moaned. My head ached in the worst way. Slowly, I opened my eyes. Blackness was everywhere. I groaned in disgust. Why am I always waking up in the dark? The damned headache only made it worse.

  Whatever I lay on was cold, hard and incredibly uncomfortable. The anger slowly vanished as panic set in. I reached out, hurriedly feeling everywhere. Nothing but a cold, hard surface greeted me. Where am I?

  “Hello?” I said.

  “Shh,” a voice replied.

  I bolted upright. “Who’s there?” I stared into the inky darkness.

  “It’s me. Raven.”

  The voice sounded as if it came from a few feet away. “Raven?”

  It all came crashing back then. Marcus had drugged me. I’d passed out again. I must be back in my concrete cell, and Raven is in here with me.

  A small flame erupted in the corner of the room. It illuminated the walls and the figure huddled beside it. His midnight locks were shadowed in the flame, but his eyes glowed a fiery orange.

  Being able to see made my heart rate slow, at least a little. “What are you doing here?” I inched back and pulled my knees up.

  “Waiting for you to wake up.”

  “Why?”

  He shrugged.

  “What time is it? How long did I sleep?” I rubbed my eyes. It was so hard to know what time it was in this perpetual darkness.

  A screen lit up. He had a smart phone. “Just after noon.” He put the phone back in his pocket.

  I eyed him. Since Raven was in here, that must mean he stayed with me after Marcus drugged me.

 

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