The scientist motioned to one of the tables.
“Go ahead and hop up here for me,” he said before grabbing one of the many plastic boxes stacked on one of the shelves in the corner. I sat on the very end of the table, wringing my hands in my lap. I looked around anxiously as both Mark and Clark walked up to me, Clark offering me a comforting smile.
The scientist returned with the plastic tub and a device I knew was used for scanning the chip behind my ear for my medical information.
“Alright, I’m going to scan this now,” he murmured, setting the plastic tub down and pressing the tip of the pen behind my ear as he glanced down at his tablet once again. He stared at it for a moment and then nodded, moving the pen away.
“Good. So, we’re just putting in three tracer chips. They will be placed under the skin of your left ankle, the joint where your thumb meets your hand, and then one next to your right shoulder blade,” he explained. He opened the tub and I saw new, plastic-wrapped instruments, including a tray and a bottle of solution. The scientist wheeled over a stand and spread everything on the surface before reaching out to Mark for the chips.
“I will numb the areas before putting these in, don’t worry,” he laughed lightly—I must have looked terrified judging by the tone of his voice.
He filled the metal tray with the solution and dropped the microchips in to sterilize them before grabbing one of the three syringes he had to unwrap. I cringed and closed my eyes as he ripped off the plastic, trying to keep my stomach from squirming at the sight of the needle. The scientist must have seen my behavior because the next thing I heard was:
“Do you have a fear of needles?”
I nodded, my eyes still closed.
“I’ll have Clark hold your hand while we do this, alright?” the scientist said gently. I was surprised at how nice he was, considering his place of employment. “I need you to take off your shoe and sock and roll up your jeans on your left leg,” he instructed. “This should work very quickly. Have you ever been numbed by the dentist?” I nodded. “It’s going to feel like that.”
With shaking hands and a light head, I kicked off my shoe and pulled off my sock. Everyone was waiting patiently, but I felt embarrassed by my shaking hands and frightened by the needle that glinted maliciously in the scientist’s hand.
When my leg was exposed, he placed a hand against my knee, using his arm to brace my leg while positioned the syringe.
“Take Clark’s hand. Face away and close your eyes. There will be a pinch and then it will feel cold.”
I did as I was told, squeezing Clark’s hand tight. I cringed when I felt the pinch, knowing it was the needle going under my skin. It took everything I had in me not to be sick or pass out. Every muscle was clenched tight until the needle was removed, and even then, I still felt the lingering nausea.
“Okay, we’ll wait a few moments. While we’re waiting, I’ll also numb your hand,” he said, motioning Clark to step to the other side of the table. Clark took my other hand. I still kept my eyes shut, not sure if I could handle the way the room was spinning.
The scientist set my hand on the biting cold surface of the stand and steadied my fingers before reminding me of the pinch and pushing the needle into my skin. I wanted to lay on the table, or even on the floor, just to have something solid to support me.
I felt the tingling for a few minutes in both my hand and my ankle.
“Can you feel that?” the scientist asked, poking my ankle.
I shook my head.
“Can you feel this?” he pressed, prodding the middle of my calf. I nodded tightly, eyes closed. “Okay, we’re ready for the first one. Mark, over here…” he said. I heard footsteps and then felt Mark’s warm hands brace my knee and rest over the top of my foot. “Okay, Lily, squeeze Clark’s hand, keep your eyes closed. You will feel some pressure on your ankle, but you should not feel any pain. If you do, tell me immediately and I’ll stop.”
I nodded, turning my head to Clark, who wrapped his other hand around the back of my head, guiding me to rest my forehead on his shoulder. I took deep breaths. Because I was so anxious already, I felt the pressure that the scientist warned of and it made me jump. However, Mark held my leg steady with surprising strength.
It felt like an eternity that I felt the pressure and the movement of the scientist as he moved around me, placing the first tracer in my ankle. I didn’t actually feel anything, but being so tense, I was more sensitive than I should have been. By the time I felt the bandage on my ankle, I was afraid to move at all for fear of passing out.
“First one done,” the scientist announced. Mark’s hands moved, my leg falling limply over the edge of the table. The jolt scared me and I had to take slow, even breaths to keep from vomiting.
“Here, drink some water,” the scientist said quietly, bumping my hand—which was still clutching Clark’s desperately—with what only could have been a plastic bottle. I shook my head, my eyes tightly closed. “It will help a little.”
Shakily, I took the bottle, trying to lift it to my lips, though Clark had to help support the bottle so I wouldn’t drop it. I managed one big gulp before I pulled the bottle away, exhausted.
“Let’s just get the next one done and then I’ll let you recover while your shoulder numbs.”
Once again, I placed my head against Clark’s shoulder while Mark steadied my forearm and the pressure was applied to my hand. I was so tired that my body felt as though it was shutting down, numbing my brain a little to what was happening. My hand was carefully wrapped and I was offered water again. If I had not exhausted myself so much, I would have been embarrassed at being so worked up.
I was lucky that the others in the room were patient.
I could not tell how long it was before I was able to open my eyes but when I did, I saw everyone standing calmly. I assumed my reaction was something that the scientist was familiar with. No one spoke, which helped greatly, since there was no noise other than my labored breathing.
I took a few more gulps of water.
“Are you ready for the last one?” the scientist asked carefully.
I hesitated before nodding, realizing it was a rhetorical question.
“Okay, you need to take off your shirt for this,” he said. “Clark, stand over there and turn your back,” the scientist nodded to an area of the room. Clark gave my hand a comforting squeeze before he stepped away and turned his back to us.
Though I was uncomfortable, I slowly pulled my shirt over my head and let it sit in my lap, feeling exposed and embarrassed in only my bra. Even though I was happy Clark had his back turned, I wished I had his hand for support.
The scientist felt along my right shoulder blade, pressing a little harder at one spot, lower on my back than I imagined the tracer would be.
“This is where the chip will go.” He reached across me to Mark and grabbed his wrist, pulling so that his hand rested on my left shoulder and his arm crossed my collarbones, giving me something to lean into. “Hold her steady.”
Mark’s other hand rested just above the scientist’s hands, and even though I was dizzy sitting upright, I felt that I had regained my bearings a little.
“Okay, you’re going to feel a pinch…” the scientist repeated. I lifted both hands to Mark’s arm and held onto the fabric of his jacket tightly, my head resting against his bicep. I felt the pinch and gripped tighter onto Mark’s arm, cringing. Then, the needle was gone and the scientist moved away. I felt Mark try to move, but I held onto him, refusing to let my support move, knowing I would collapse face first to the cement. I felt his hesitation and then his hands resumed their position, holding me steady.
I remained with my eyes closed and my head against his bicep, waiting for the ordeal to be over.
The scientist asked me if I could feel anything, and when I shook my head, he slipped my bra strap off my shoulder before telling Mark to hold me steady once again, applying pressure to the numbed part of my back.
I cringed and he
ld onto Mark tightly.
I was distracted when I felt Mark’s thumb moving over my left shoulder, trying to soothe me. I was so startled by the act of kindness that I opened my eyes and turned to look at him. He did not have his glasses on, so I could see him watching me, his eyes full of gentle compassion.
I closed my eyes again and leaned against Mark’s arm.
My final tracer was in, and the bandage was placed over the wound, though it was still several moments before I could release Mark’s arm to put my shirt on.
“Okay,” the scientist said when I was redressed. “Clark, you can come back now. As for the wounds they should heal in a few days. Try not to scratch them. You can take the bandage off tomorrow morning. Don’t shower tonight, and just be careful of the bandage around your hand for the rest of the day. If you can wrap it in just a regular bandage to keep the wound covered, it should heal faster.”
“…thank you…” I choked.
“Go rest,” he said. “Take the water also.” He placed a hand on my shoulder. “If you have any problems with them, like if they start to hurt or fester, let me know. My name is Randy.”
“Thank you…” I said, a little stronger this time.
I tried to walk steadily out of the lab, but ended up having to be supported by Clark as we walked the incredibly long distance back to the conference room. I continued to apologize, though I did not understand why I felt guilty.
Once back in the conference room, I curled up in one of the chairs and felt the exhaustion take hold of me. I wanted to talk to Clark, but stress pulled me into unconsciousness, and I was asleep in no time. I was woken by the gentle hand of Mark on my left shoulder. When he pointed to his watch, I realized it was time to go home.
Mark had to wake up Clark as well before we left the Commission.
I was still half-asleep as we retrieved our phones and drove to my house. I felt a dull pain on all three areas where the tracers had been placed, but it was not unbearable. What was unbearable was explaining the bandaged hand to Mykail and my mother and father over dinner. They were worried, but while my father was worried, my mother continued to insist that it was a smart idea for the Commission, stating that Dana knew what he was doing. Mykail just stared at me, silent and sympathetic.
When the time was right and I knew my parents had gone to bed, I crept to Mykail’s door, opening it skillfully to avoid the loud noise of the bolt. Mykail immediately pulled me into a hug.
“I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” I assured, hugging him back. “I’m alright.”
“Are you sure?” he asked, glancing at my hand, pulling it close and studying it. “Your mother said you have a fear of needles…”
“Yeah…” I said, embarrassed, particularly thinking about my behavior around the three who had been in the same room when I got the tracers. “It’s okay. I’m alright.”
“This is crazy, Lily…” he breathed, releasing my hand. “We need to find another way. This is too much. He’ll always be able to find you…”
“No, it’s too late, now,” I said. “It’s done. We’ll just keep going with the plan.”
He was torn, but I knew this was the best method. This was the way things had to be. There was no way to back out.
He sighed, looking at my hand again.
“Can I see the one on your back?”
I felt my heart race and the muscles clench in my abdomen. To show Mykail, I would have to take off my shirt again. I shivered at the thought, but it was not for the same reason I had in the lab. I was excited, nervous, and admittedly, a little embarrassed, but I still nodded and turned around, reaching down with shaking hands to pull my shirt over my head.
I still held onto the fabric of my pajama top and felt his eyes on the bandage on my back. I shivered as I waited for him to say something.
Suddenly his hand was on my shoulder blade, gentle, as he pressed his lips to the top of my shoulder. My eyes fluttered shut involuntarily and I swayed. His other hand wrapped around my belly to support me.
He placed a few more kisses on my shoulder before I turned my head toward his, wanting more. He hesitated. I felt his breath on my lips, so I closed the space between us, turning and wrapping my arms around his neck as I kissed him full force, pressing my chest to his.
His arms circled my waist and lifted me, walking me to his bed and using his wings for support as he lowered us both.
Within the protective cocoon of his wings, there was nothing else. I felt his hands drift over my sides and arms as we kissed.
With his weight on his wings, both his hands were free to touch me. It was almost too much for my inexperience to feel one hand on my waist, another on my neck, and his lips and tongue against mine.
Like before, Mykail’s hips circled down to mine, causing a jolt to rocket through me and Mykail to swallow the noise I made in a deep kiss. I groaned again and my hips moved. I had never felt such intensity, and I was starting to crave the sexual contact. I didn’t care if it was the result of teenage hormones. I wanted him.
He broke away from my lips and moved to my neck, kissing and nipping in a way that made me bite my lip to keep me from making more noise. I didn’t know what to do, so I dug my nails into his back and felt his mouth on me, moving from my neck to my collarbone and then down my sternum, passing between my breasts as one hand came to rest over the cloth of my bra. I arched my back, pushing into his hand, biting my lip so hard it almost bled.
It was the most intimate we had been. He did not remove my bra and he did not make any further moves toward sex, which was good because even though my body was craving it, I knew we were not ready, particularly with the circumstances of our relationship.
Eventually, my jaw sore from kissing, Mykail rolled to the side, his wings still surrounding us.
“I’m sorry…” he whispered, as breathless as I was. “I did not mean to move that fast.” He looked at me seriously, his fingertips playing over my cheek as I tried to gain my bearings and calm the fire in my body. “If I do anything that you don’t want me to, I want you to say something and I’ll stop. I promise.”
“If that ever happens, I’ll let you know.”
He kissed me gently once on the lips before kissing my cheeks, nose, and even my ears, causing me to giggle. He backed away, a smile on his face.
“Hey, Mykail,” I whispered. “The experiments have a way to speak through gestures, right? The sign language?”
“Yes.”
“What does this mean?” I pinched my earlobe, mimicking Mark’s earlier actions.
“What?”
I repeated the action and he laughed, grabbing my wrist.
“No, that action asks the question ‘what?’” he explained.
“Oh…” I murmured, confused. Thinking back on the conversation Mark and I had struggled through, it didn’t make sense for him to ask such a question when he was the one explaining things to me.
“You seem confused,” Mykail chuckled.
“It’s nothing.”
“Which ear was it?”
I thought about it, pointing to my left ear.
“That’s different, then. That means ‘I’m sorry.’”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The biggest dilemma I faced Tuesday morning was not the quiz in biology class or the fact that I had not read the assigned chapters of An Angel Without Wings—it was that Mykail had left a hicky on my right collar bone and I was failing miserably at trying to cover it with makeup.
I resorted to finding a shirt to cover it, pulling a turtleneck from the bottom of my dresser drawer. I hated turtlenecks, but it was the only option—at least the colder weather gave me an excuse to wear it.
The turtleneck dilemma seemed pointless compared to the problem at lunch.
I was sitting with Becca, Taylor, and Jill, trying not to think of what had happened the previous afternoon when Felicity and seven other Commish Kids, including Dean and Ryan, came up to us. I hoped they would just pass by, bu
t I knew from their purposeful walk that they were on a mission to talk to me.
Becca had fallen silent when she saw my staring and her silence caught the others’ attention.
“Lily,” Felicity said sharply as she approached, “we need to talk.”
“About what?” I pressed.
“Miranda,” Dean growled. I felt my heart speed up. I saw Becca turn to me while the other two looked on, confused.
I stood, glancing apologetically at my friends.
“Sorry, I’ll be back.”
I followed the group of Commish Kids, every part of me was wary of the impending discussion. A part of my brain reminded me that I could use the situation to see if any Commish Kids were opposed to Dana after the ordeal with Miranda and Julie.
I was led to the back of the school, where we gathered around the door and everyone rounded angrily on me. I retreated a step, startled by their angry faces.
“Who the hell called the Commission on Miranda?” Samantha, a girl I had only met once, asked around her clenched teeth.
“I don’t know.”
“Is there any truth behind the accusations?” Matt pressed.
“Of course not, you moron!” Dean snapped, shoving the boy in the shoulder.
“I’m just asking…”
“Why are you asking me?”
“You’re Mr. Christenson’s new favorite, right?” Felicity growled. “You’re even going there after school like Clark, now.”
“…how do you know about that?” I asked suspiciously. They groaned and rolled their eyes, which did nothing more than aggravate me.
“Everyone knows. Everyone can see how fascinated he is by you and your family,” Ryan snorted.
“So, you’re going to get Miranda and Julie out,” Dean snarled.
“What?” I gasped, my eyes shooting wide. “What makes you think I can get her out?” My heart raced as terror ran through my whole body, worried that the others knew of our premature plans to infiltrate the Commission.
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