Red Handed (15 page)

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Authors: Gena Showalter

BOOK: Red Handed
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“Pick it up,” she commanded. It was the first time she'd used such a stern, unbending tone of voice with me.

“No!”

“Pick it up, Phoenix, or I'll recommend that you're kicked out of the camp.”

The one thing that could make me obey. I liked this camp. I didn't want to leave yet. Still I hesitated.

“Pick. It. Up.”

“I hate you,” I hissed, finally reaching out. My fingers closed around the vial. “What kind of mind doctor are you, torturing me like this?”

She ignored my question. “Smell it.”

My hands didn't hesitate to obey. Without thought, I brought the vial to my nose and sniffed, savoring the scent of dew-kissed rain. Hmmm, so good. So delicious.

Poison
, my mind said.

Sweet
, my body replied.
One taste. One little sip
. What could it hurt?

In the end, I tossed it at Angel. The plastic vial nailed her in the shoulder. “
You
hold it,” I snarled at her.

For a long while, she didn't move or comment. Finally, she pinched the vial between her fingers and stuffed it back into her pocket. She gave me another of those enthralling smiles. “Under stress, and still you turned it away.”

I raised my chin. “That's right.”

“Good.”

“Bitch,” I growled.

She didn't lose her smile. “I want you to know, Phoenix, that it's not because your mother stopped loving you that she pushed you away. It's
because
she loves you that she did it.”

The switch of topics was jarring, but I welcomed it. The Onadyn was gone, out of my sight, out of reaching distance. I could handle anything else that was thrown at me. “I don't understand.”

“I met with her this morning, just so you know. She's terrified of watching you waste away, of watching you die, and telling you good-bye was more than she could have endured. Not after she watched your father walk away.”

The mention of my dad caused my stomach to twist painfully.

“Your mother wants you to have the life she herself could not,” Angel said.

“How can you be sure?” I asked past the sudden lump in my throat. In my mind, I replayed the last few minutes I'd had with my mom, studying her face, her eyes. They
were
tortured, I realized. Her body had been stiff, as if preparing for a blow. Her eyes had been watery, as if she'd been holding back tears. I gulped. Almost sobbed.

“You have a core of iron inside you,” Angel said, “a core that scares and intimidates those who do not possess the same. They know they cannot control you and flounder with how to deal with you.”

I didn't respond. I couldn't. A multitude of emotions swirled through me: shock, doubt, hope, joy, relief, and anger.

“Think about what I said, all right?”

Slowly I nodded.

“Good.” Angel waved to the door. “Get out of here. You have things to do, and this session is over.”

I didn't move. “Do I—get to stay at camp, then?”

“For now,” she said, as if it had never been in question. “Just know that you, more than anyone, can never let your guard down. You have to stay two steps ahead of the game or you will always be seen as second best.”

Frowning, I stood and moved toward the door. Her next words stopped me, however. “Just so you know, there was a truth serum in the water you drank. The fact that you were still able to resist the drug is astonishing and something to be proud of.”

What? I spun around. “Truth serum?”

“Here, drink this.” She lifted the cup of blue-tinted liquid beside her, stood, and closed the distance between us. “It will combat the effects of what I gave you, so you don't reveal any secrets to your new friends.”

She could be lying, but I didn't care. I didn't want to take the risk. I drained the contents. Grinning, she wrapped her arms around me and gave me a hug.

I hadn't been hugged in so many years I almost didn't know what to do. Almost. Tentatively, my arms wound around her, too. I wasn't sure if I liked her, but I couldn't have stopped myself from hugging her if a pyre-gun had been aimed at my head.

“Anytime you want to talk,” she said, “I'm here.”

11

The next day, after all our classes—and another therapy session for me (sigh)—it was party time. Or rather, time to “get to know each other.” We weren't to be given any beer, of course, but we had been told we'd get to listen to music, play games (video, virtual, and pool), and eat tons of food. Good-for-us food, but that was better than nothing.

“Get to know each other,” Mia repeated when we reached the threshold of a crowded but spacious room. Already I could hear the
bump, bump
, and grind of rock. “Get to know the older girls and get to know the boys. But don't forget, even for a second, that we'll be watching you. You know the rules.” Having said her piece, she was off, leaving us in an open doorway.

My shock that we'd get to spend time with the male trainees—and instructors?—barely had time to register before the girls surged forward. One of them grabbed hold of my arm and tugged me inside. All too soon I was standing on the fringes of the party. The room was dimly lit, filled to capacity, and cracking with laughter and conversation.

I experienced a shiver of nervousness.

Everyone around me seemed to know where to stand, how to stand, and what to do. I couldn't force my brain to work right. Should I smile? Or would that make me look too easy? Should I wave or was that something only losers did?

Should I dance or was that something only the older girls were allowed to do? Speaking of the older, more experienced girls, none of them cared to help us or welcome us.

There was a definite hierarchy here. A tier of importance—at least in the older girls' minds. Obviously they thought they were better than us. Fine. Whatever. Maybe one day, we'd feel the same about new recruits. Until then, I considered it a stupid mind-set.

Everything's going to be fine
. I released a long, drawn-out sigh, taking in the sea of white clothing I saw. The only difference between the kids—fashion-wise—was skin and hair color. I'd fit right in, so that was one worry I could cross out.

Why are you still standing here? Do something!

“Ohmygod, I'm on sensory overload,” Jenn said.

“Want to, I don't know, mingle?” I asked the girls.

“Not yet. I'm scoping,” Cara said, sounding as nervous as I felt.

They might look in control, but they didn't feel it and that comforted me. I wasn't the only one.

“This place is delectable,” Kitten said, sounding as eager for action as ever.

Okay, she was the exception.

The floor was black and white tile, almost dizzying. A strobe hung from the ceiling. Holographs of movie stars danced in each of the corners. Several tables were piled high with the promised food, and there were couches and plush syn-fur chairs to relax upon.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Emma stride to a far, empty corner and disappear in the shadows. I frowned. “What's Emma's problem?”

Dani waved a hand through the air, wisping strands of light hair in front of her eyes. She brushed them aside. “Who knows?”

“I do,” Jenn answered. Dark eyes glistening, she leaned toward us and whispered, “Don't tell anyone, okay, because I totally don't want to become the gossip, but she was out swimming one day and was raped by a group of Lyrosses.”

Shock coursed through me, followed quickly by sympathy. I'd never heard of a Lyross, but rape was rape.

Jenn must have sensed my puzzlement because she added, “Not a lot is known about them, but we have learned that they came through the portals a few years ago and now live in our oceans.”

Okay. I was sooo never going swimming again. Why the hell was information like that kept quiet? That was something people had a right to know. I wondered how many other human women had been raped by them while swimming.

Lindsay's face softened. “Poor thing. Raped.” She shuddered.

“That's awful.” Features sad, Johanna placed a hand over her heart. “Just…awful. My sister was raped by a boyfriend, and I remember the hell she went through during recovery.”

“How do you know all of this?” I asked Jenn.

“Duh. I know just about everything because Boss tells my mom. I think they're—” She stopped, her mocha-colored features contorting as she made a gagging sound “—lovers. Anyway, Emma tried to kill herself afterward and was brought here when she recovered. They want to channel her rage, make her a cold assassin, like Le'Ace, or an unstoppable agent like Snow.”

My gaze leveled on Emma, trying to find her in those shadows. I saw only darkness. Raped. I couldn't imagine such a thing. I'd had sex more times than I should have, had been too young, unprepared, doing it for all the wrong reasons, but each time had been my decision. I didn't know how I would have reacted if I'd been forced.

I wanted to go to her, but didn't. She'd only push me away, reject me. I knew it beyond any doubt. Besides, what help could I give her? I didn't know the pain of what she'd endured; in her mind, I'd never be able to understand. It was like a nonuser trying to talk to me about addiction. Nothing came of it but frustration.

Just then, someone laughed. Someone else chortled. I tore my attention from the corner and scanned the room again. Nothing had changed. Conversation flowed around us like rivers.

The older girls preferred the lounge area, I realized after closer inspection. They kept most of the boys occupied—except for a small group who stood off to the side, gazing wide-eyed at everything around them. Exactly like me and my friends were doing.

They must be the new male recruits.

“Which one do you think is that perv Bradley?” Kitten asked, leaning into me.

“Oh, oh, oh. And just who is Bradley?” Cara twirled a lock of dark hair around her finger. “Where'd you meet him?”

“Yeah,” Jenn piped in, her expression rapt. “Tell us!”

Kitten quickly explained, and she couldn't keep the relish from her voice.

“Maybe that one's Bradley,” Dani said, pointing. She was pretty, her pale hair, pale skin, and green eyes giving her a fairy-tale aura as she next waved at one of the boys, grinning coyly.

I looked over at the circle of boys, who were looking at us now. They were all tall and lean and very toned. They ranged in hair color, from the darkest of night to the brightest of morning. A few were gorgeous, some were cute, and the rest had average faces that could easily get lost in a crowd. It was the most handsome one who was waving back at Dani.

“I sincerely hope that's not Bradie boy,” I said. Kitten would not like it if Bradley developed a crush on Dani. But as cocky as Bradley was, he had to be one of the gorgeous ones.

I, as it turned out, was wrong.

Two of the boys disconnected from their group and maneuvered through the crowd, heading straight for us. One was plain-looking, and one had a rugged appeal nothing female could deny. Both appeared happy. Cara and Jenn fiddled with their hair and blotted their faces with their hands.

“Testosterone alert,” Dani muttered, sounding pleased. Excited.

“Ohmygod, I want him,” Cara said. “I call dibs on the tall one.”

When the boys arrived, they stopped in front of Kitten. The shorter of the two, the plain one, had dark hair and almost feminine green eyes; he gave the Teran a chin nod. “You Kitten?” he asked.

Instantly I recognized his voice. It was all Bradley: cocky and just a little wicked.

“That's me,” Kitten replied. As eager as she'd been to see Bradley at last, she acted nonchalant now. “And you are?”

I wanted to grin, but didn't let myself.

He rolled his eyes, totally unimpressed with Kitten's performance. “As if you don't know, baby. This is my roommate and fellow badass, Erik Trinity. He's in his second semester here.” His arm wrapped around Erik's wide shoulders.

Erik had brown hair (that was a little shaggy) and green eyes fringed by long, thick lashes. He radiated confidence and attitude, and something about him beckoned and held a girl's gaze. He was tall and strong, the kind of guy you wanted at your side, who looked like he would stop at nothing to protect you.

“Which one is Phoenix?” Bradley asked.

“That would be me.” I raised my hand and gave a finger wave. I should have been excited to meet boys my own age. Especially since Erik was amazingly sexy and was grinning at me as if he wouldn't mind getting to know me.

He wasn't my instructor, and he wasn't strictly forbidden to me. So I should have smiled back. But…

“Meet our friends,” I said, then introduced them to the others. Erik spotted Cara, who'd called dibs, and his breath caught in his throat.

His smile widened, and a wicked gleam filled his emerald eyes. “Hey.”

Fickle, much?
I thought with an inward laugh.

Cara twirled a strand of hair. “Hey yourself.”

Despite the rules, hookups were going to happen. That much was obvious. Had Ryan hooked up with a fellow student when he'd been in training? The thought had my hands clenching.

Had he ever broken the rules and dated—kissed—a trainee?

Would he?

He would know what he was doing in bed, I thought, and perhaps even be able to give me an orgasm. I was embarrassed to admit it, but as many boys as I'd been with I'd never experienced one. I'd read about it in books, my friends had talked about it, and yet it had always eluded me.

An image of Ryan lying in my bed, summoning me over with a crook of his finger, flashed before my eyes. I shivered. I'd walk over to him, crawl up his body, and he'd kiss the breath right out of me.

“How you likin' your stay here, ladies?” Bradley asked, drawing me away from such bad, bad thoughts.

“I'm not a lady, but I'm suddenly loving it,” Erik said.

Everyone chuckled.

“You wanna go get a drink or something?” Bradley asked Kitten.

“No, thanks,” she answered. She flipped her multicolored hair over her shoulder. I caught a glimpse of pointed ears. “I'm not thirsty.”

Still playing hard to get, was she?

Disappointment flashed over Bradley's freckled face, but he quickly recovered. “Whatever,” he said. “You're probably boring, anyway, and would have ruined my good time.”

“Boring!” she gasped, glaring up at him.

“That's right.” He leaned into her personal space. “Your ears are working fine. I said boring. Want me to spell it, too?”

“You wanting me to scratch out your eyes and eat them?”

He flashed a smug grin. “Still desperate for a piece of me, are you?”

“Why you little—”

“Come on, Erik,” he said, cutting her off. “I need a shot of caffeine to wake me up. Kitten almost put me to sleep.” Without another word, the two boys were off. Bradley practically had to drag poor Erik, though, who kept throwing glances at Cara over his shoulder.

“I'll kill him,” Kitten growled. “Kill him!”

“Why didn't you have a drink with him?” Cara demanded, stomping her foot. “I wasn't done talking to Erik.”

“If Erik had wanted to talk to you, girlie, he would have stayed,” Kitten bit out. Her eyes watched Bradley as he approached another group of girls. She hissed under her breath. “A player. I knew it. And I am not boring!”

“Why don't you just admit it. You wanted a piece of Bradley,” I said.

She snorted and turned away from the boys. “As if.”

I shook my head—and from the corner of my eye I spotted Ryan standing in the doorway. I gulped. “Uh, listen, I need a moment…away from the crowd.”

“Want me to come with?”

“Nah.” Just seeing him for that brief second, my blood was too hot. My limbs were shaky. My airways were constricted. “Stay here. Have fun. I'll be back soon.” As I walked to the door, I saw that he was gone. Where was he?

I stepped out, searching…searching…

“Not your kind of party?”

Gasping, I straightened. He stepped from the shadows. Seeing him again, I actually ached. “Going to the party?”

“No. Not my turn to chaperone.” He paused. His head tilted to the side as he studied me. “Want to walk with me? Talk?”

Not a question that needed consideration. I nodded and stepped to his side. His pine scent hit me, and his hand brushed mine. Goose bumps broke out over my skin. I should have been used to them by now. We started forward, the only two people in the hall.

Why did the things that were wrong always feel so good?

“What do you want to talk about?” I asked to fill the silence.

“Why don't you tell me about your last boyfriend,” he said, eyes remaining straight ahead.

I almost choked. No way did I want to discuss my stupid decisions. “Why don't you tell me about your last girlfriend?”

His shoulders lifted in a shrug. “We didn't last long. She was a civilian and resented all the time I spent here. Your turn.”

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