Red Handed (9 page)

Kitten paled and her mouth fell open. I cut off a laugh.

Mia stopped at an arched doorway at the very end of the hall. She faced us, her expression blank. “This is your room. Kitten, place your palm in the center of the black box.”

I peeked around Mia's head to see what black box she was talking about. It was at the side of the door, a perfect square at eye level. Multicolored buttons lined the top.

Tentatively Kitten reached out and did as she'd been told. A blue light similar to the one that had scanned Mia's hand traced the entire surface of Kitten's palm. “It's warm,” Kitten said.

“Scan complete,” a computer-animated voice said. “Welcome, Kitten.”

Blinking in surprise, Kitten dropped her arm to her side.

Mia flicked me a glance. “Your turn, Phoenix.”

Once my scan was finished, Mia punched a series of button and the door opened. “Besides the staff, only the two of you will be able to enter this room.” She paused for several seconds, head tilting to the side as if in thought. “Unless, of course, some of the girls have finally mastered breaking and entering, then it's open season. I suggest you study ways to increase security.”

Shock coursed through me. “We'll learn how to break into people's homes?”

“Of course,” she said, her tone suggesting I was silly for even asking. “Not all of your targets will surrender easily. They'll hide. They'll lock themselves away. You'll have to be able to reach them no matter where they are, won't you?”

“Yes,” I said, excited by the thought. It was just so…
bad
, yet would be totally legal when doing it as an agent. Too cool.

“Hell yeah,” Kitten said.

Slowly Mia grinned. I guess she liked our enthusiasm. “I suggest you study the map inside your manual, as well. I will not be giving you a tour of the rest of the building. You'll be expected to learn and memorize the layout on your own because you'll be expected to memorize the cities you enter and the prey you stalk on your own.” She didn't wait for our response, but strode into my new room.

Curious about the place I would now call home, I followed quickly. It was small but clean, with two stiff-looking beds, two plain, silver dressers, two silver desks, and a bathroom with a toilet, mirror, and dry-enzyme shower stall.

“There are clothes for each of you in the dresser. Standard uniform of white pants and top.”

“Yipp-eeee,” Kitten muttered. “Uniforms.”

“You may write your family, but be advised that all correspondence will be monitored.” She spread her arms wide. “If you have any questions, there is a manual inside the top left drawer of your desk. I suggest you read it. Memorize it.”

“Sure thing,” I said.

She turned to Kitten. “You're going to spend the next two minutes sprinting in the hall.”

“Wait. What? I—”

“Go!” Mia snapped.

Kitten leapt into action, running into the hallway.

Now Mia looked to me. “I suggest you fill the cup. I've bought you two minutes. Whether you're done or not—”

I didn't hear the rest. I was racing into the bathroom. As quickly as I could, I filled and capped the cup, righted my clothing, and strode back into the room. Mia was wearing gloves, I noticed. She took the cup, her gaze locked on mine.

“You'd better not let me down.”

“I won't.” I hoped.

Panting, Kitten raced back into the room. “All…done.” She hunched over, anchoring her elbows on her knees. “What was that for?”

“Question me again and you'll run for an hour straight. See you around, girls.” Mia strode from the room, the door shutting behind her.

“What have we gotten ourselves into?” I breathed.

“I'm not sure yet.” Kitten fell onto one of the beds. “If I figure it out, I'll let you know.”

Page one of the A.I.R. Trainee manual

Page two

The map. (Or rather, maze.) Building after building, all connected through intricate hallways and more hallways. There were classrooms, barracks for both boys and girls, two Commons, many restricted areas, a gym, a weapons room, an interrogation room (just the thought made my stomach hurt), and an observation room.

Page three

I pinched the bridge of my nose. Those were the things we should do with our spare time? Interesting that they didn't mention slapping each other around or knifing each other while we slept. Hurting and killing were
important
. Right?

Groaning, I flipped the page.

Page four

With a weary sigh, I put the manual aside and lay down. “Lights out,” I muttered. Instantly the light on my side of the room dimmed, throwing the room into pitch black. Most of the day had wasted away, anyway, and Kitten was already asleep. She and I had talked for hours, getting to know each other better. The more I learned about her, the more I liked.

She was playful, witty, and loyal. She came from a big family and I could see the affection in her eyes every time she mentioned her sisters and brothers. If they needed her, she'd do anything and everything to get to them.

I was a little envious. I'd always wanted a sister, but my mom hadn't remarried or even dated since my dad left. She worked and took care of me, and that was about it. Maybe my dad had had another kid with his new wife. I could very well have a sister or brother I didn't know about. Since leaving us, he hadn't even called.

A sharp pain tore through me with the thought.

Just go to sleep
. For the next few hours, I tossed and turned, unable to settle. I was wearing unfamiliar clothes, stiff and a little snug. The mattress was firmer than mine at home, and the blanket lacked the fresh smell I was used to. The room was too dark, the only hint of light coming from the wall clock. I could hear Kitten's soft exhalations and purrs.

My mind raced as pieces of the “welcome” letter in the manual continually took center stage. If I broke three rules, my memory would be wiped. How much of my memory, though? Everything or just camp? Everything might not be such a bad thing. I thought I might like starting from scratch, with nothing of the past to taint my thoughts.

Still. I hadn't known something like that was possible.

I'd decided to stay here for now. But I didn't like rules—never had—and didn't like the thought of being so constrained. And so…
punished
if I failed.

I expelled a deep sigh and forced myself to think of anything other than A.I.R. Of course, my mom was the first thing that popped into my head. What was she dreaming of just then? Did she even miss me?

When I was a little girl, she'd held me close and sung me to sleep every night. She'd baked me breakfast every morning, smiling all the while. She'd been so happy. So carefree. Then my dad had left. Then I started doing drugs. All her happiness seemed to vanish. All the cares of the world seemed to settle on her shoulders.

At least I'd had Jamie to lean on, as bad an influence as she'd been. My mom had had no one when she should have had me.

God, I owed her so much. Tears burned my eyes.

Okay. Now I couldn't think about her, either.

Think about Ryan…
his sexy image sprang into my mind, making me shiver. Relationships between trainer and trainee were forbidden, the manual had said, but that didn't stop me from hoping he found me half as attractive as I found him. I would have liked to kiss him. Just once. With tongue, his arms—

Suddenly all the lights in the room flashed on, extremely bright to my eyes, which had become attuned to the dark. The beige walls came into focus, the metallic dresser. A mirror. I saw my reflection: rumpled, long blond hair. Sleep-heavy brown eyes. Swollen lips. I'd chewed them the entire time I'd lain awake, I guess, not realizing I was doing it.

“Kitten and Phoenix,” a computerized voice said.

Kitten jolted upright, her gaze wild as she looked around. “What happened? What's wrong?” Her voice was scratchy.

“Your presence is required in room three A. You have ten minutes,” the computer finished.

Groaning, I eased up and rubbed a hand over my face. “I wonder what they're going to do to us.”

“Or what they'll make us do,” Kitten grumbled. She threw her legs over the side of her bed. “What time is it?”

I glanced at the digital clock and its flashing red numbers. “Three a.m.”

“What?” She frowned. “You're kidding.”

“Look for yourself.”

She did. Her frown deepened. “That's insanity! Who gets up at three a.m.?”

“Apparently we do.” I lumbered out of bed. We took turns in the dry shower, the enzyme spray cleaning us in seconds. We hurriedly brushed our teeth and hair before studying the mazelike map in the manual.

“We should have studied this more carefully before bed,” she mumbled.

“Note to self,” I said. “Listen to Mia Snow when she speaks.”

“Three A,” Kitten said, tapping a long, pointed nail on her chin. “Looks like that's like four halls over. We'll never make it in time.”

“Crap. We can't break a rule on our first day.”

“Well, we've only got three minutes.”

“Then let's haul ass!” Determination filled me. “Come on.” I raced to the door and commanded it to open.

“What will the assholes who run this place do if we get lost?” Kitten said behind me. “Choke us with our own intestines?”

I didn't want to find out. “Being late is probably worse than committing murder.”

“We'll never make it,” she repeated.

“Yes, we will.”

We rushed into the hall and maneuvered through the unfamiliar passage. As we ran, Kitten fastened her multicolored hair into a ponytail.

Unlike the walls in the interview room, these hall walls were blue with posters taped throughout.
THE FEW, THE PROUD, AND THE BADASS
, one of them read.
IT'S NOT HOW YOU DO IT, IT'S THE END RESULT THAT COUNTS
, another said.

Surprisingly, there were other girls in the hallways, hustling from one room to another. No one said a word to us or even glanced in our direction. They were too focused, too hurried to reach their own destination.

Finally we found a door that had a large black 3A over the top. After a quick hand scan, we were able to enter. Mia Snow stood at the head of the room, her arms locked behind her back.

“You're late,” she said. “And that's not a good way to start the program. You're lucky I don't kick you out right now.”

“We're not late,” I told her through clenched teeth, trying not to pant. “It's three ten.”

Her dark brows arched. “If someone is six seconds late, they are…what?”

“Late,” Kitten and I muttered together.

“I told you to study the map.”

“We did,” Kitten said. “Kind of.”

I had glanced at it last night, but I hadn't tried to memorize it.
Too complicated
, I'd thought. I wouldn't make that mistake again. I
would
learn.

Mia's response was a commanding, “On the floor. Now!”

I looked at Kitten, and she looked at me. On the floor? Seriously?

“I didn't say stare at each other.” There was violence in Mia's tone. “I said drop.”

We dropped.

A minute passed in silence before Mia said anything else. She glanced down at her nails, suddenly radiating a breezy air. “I'm feeling magnanimous today. I'm going to watch you do twenty-five push-ups, twenty-five sit-ups, and twenty-five knee bends. Start.”

“Are you kidding me?” Kitten gasped out.

“Make that fifty.” Mia arched a brow. “Anything else you'd like to say?”

The words “help me” and “oh my God” came to mind. I remained quiet, though, and forced myself into motion. By the time I finished, I was a sweaty, burning, shaking mess. I'd never done so much exercise in my life. Kitten breezed through it as if she'd worked out her entire life.

I was beyond jealous.

“You're slow, Phoenix, and I expect improvement next time.”

Next time? I barely cut off my moan. “I'll do better.”

“Make sure of it,” was her clipped response. “By the way, you passed the test.”

A pause. “What test?” Kitten asked.

“I wasn't talking to you,” Mia snapped.

No, she'd been talking to me. I'd passed the drug test. Thank God.

“Make sure you pass the next one, as well, or I will be very upset.”

I gulped and nodded, not glancing in Kitten's direction.