Stolen (11 page)

Julia considered telling her about the prophetic stuff—and maybe even Lazarus the Turtle—but shook her head.

“That’s good.”

“This place is intense.”

Meredith nodded.

“I didn’t even want to come here.”

“Me neither.”

“Did they force you?”

Meredith nodded. “My aunt and uncle.”

“Nathan like…kidnapped me.”

“No
WAY
.”

“Cayne and I…” Julia pursed her lips. “Cayne and I were in D.C., downtown. We were fighting off a Bound—this other Nephilim thing—when Nathan and…Drew and some others showed up. They grabbed Cayne, and then they grabbed me. We weren’t even doing anything to them.”

Meredith’s mouth hung open. “That’s insane!
Omigod
, Julia, I had
no idea
. That’s like never happened.”

Which made Julia feel even worse. She should have done something to stop what happened. But she’d just…given up.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to get the nerve to admit what was twisting her up in knots. “I’m worried about Cayne. Worried that I won’t be able to help him. Does everyone hate Nephilim as much as Nathan does?”

“He hates them a whole lot,” Meredith hedged.

“Why?”

“A Hunter killed his parents.”

A sick, cold feeling settled in Julia’s chest. “Are you sure?”

Meredith shrugged. “He doesn’t talk about it, but everybody knows. Probably heard it from Drew, though. He and Nathan were pretty tight at one point, before Nathan went all Chosen Crazy and started working for The Three.”

“He works for The Three?”

“It’s just this rumor…”

Julia pressed her palm over her eyes. “I think I need to sit down.”

*

She didn’t know why she confided in the girl. Meredith wasn’t a friend. They’d never gone through anything together. And what she wanted—what she
really
wanted—was to escape with Cayne and never think about the Chosen again.

But Meredith’s eyes were big and solemn, and she kept offering Julia gum, and she went on and on about how awful it was that Julia had been “snatched,” and Julia was tired and confused and…not herself. Just seriously not herself, because the Julia she’d thought she was would never, ever,
ever
spill secrets to
anyone
. Except Cayne.

And yet…she found herself sitting cross-legged on the sauna bench, smoothing her creased pants down with her fingers, leaning forward and peeking at Meredith’s aura.

Still purple-gold. Nothing weird.

She felt relieved.

Meredith noticed. Julia knew she noticed, because the girl’s pretty face went blank and curious.

“I…” Her throat was dry. She didn’t want to say it. “Nathan kept saying he
knew
Cayne was bad. Like,
knew
knew
.”

           
 
Meredith’s eyes widened. “Do you think Cayne was the one?”

“I don’t
know
.” Her stomach churned. “But he told me he’d done bad things, and at the time I told him I didn’t care.” She felt so stupid admitting it, but even now, when she thought of Cayne: Did she care?

“Yeah, okay.” A huge pink bubble bloomed between Meredith’s lips; she popped it, looking contemplative. “But it would have to be a Hunter, and those are really hard to come by. There are only like—”

“Cayne’s one.”

“Oh.” She looked down at her lap for too long, playing with a stray thread in her shirt. When she looked up, her face was stark. “I hope it wasn’t him. You might want to try to find out, because if it was, Nathan’s going to…I don’t know.” Her mouth scrunched. “He also had a little brother. Joshua. He was only one when…whatever happened.”

Julia stood up, feeling like she might tip over. “Can I go to my room now?”

“Why?” Meredith looked skeptical.

“I want to rest.”

“Oh,
c’mon
.”

Julia exhaled. “I need to talk to Cayne. I need to talk to him right now. Because I don’t think he would do anything like that but…”

Meredith stood up, brushing off her pants. “If you get caught, you could get in serious shit.”

“Yeah, don’t care. I have to do it. I don’t care about getting in trouble. I’m
not
staying here. I’ve had enough of staying in suck-
tastic
places in foster homes.”

Meredith looked surprised, but her expression quickly turned around. “Go you! But only if you swear I can come with.”

           
Julia nodded. “But I need to find Cayne. I can’t go anywhere without him.”

Chapter 11

Julia walked back to her room. She lay on the bed and studied the German flash card Meredith had given her. Inside the huge, red-
markered
letters of the word “
krankheit
” were Meredith’s guesstimated directions to the prison. She’d said she wasn’t sure about the directions (“at all”) but she’d pointed Julia toward an area of the compound that was off limits.

While she was studying the card, thinking miserably about Nathan and Cayne, she saw a tall, wide form stop outside the hazy glass door. She sought his aura without meaning to, getting only a glimpse before realizing a) it wasn’t silver (boo) and b) speak of the devil: It looked like Nathan. She waited for another retaliatory gut-punch, and when none came, she jumped up and pulled the door open.
 

     
“Nathan, hi.” She smiled, like everything was just gee-golly good.

     
That had the wrong effect. He eyed her suspiciously. “How are you feeling?”

     
“Better,” she hedged. She waited for him to mention the infirmary, but instead he said, “Meredith told me you came to lie down.”

     
She thought about nodding, just rolling with it. Sneaking off later. And she decided against that. She folded her arms. “I want to see Cayne.”

     
“What?”

     
“You said you’d take me to see Cayne today. I want to see him.” When Nathan opened his mouth, she held up one hand. “I’ve been very cooperative, even after that weird ceremony where I had my super-aura-seeing freak out.”

     
He narrowed his brows, and she went for the jugular. “You left me with
her
. With Dizzy. You know she’s a freak. Admit it!” Julia had seen his eyes as he left; she knew guilt without having to peek at his aura.

     
“Dizzy is a freak?” he said stupidly.

     
“YES. Please don’t lie to me. It’s not your thing. I know it’s not. So keep your promise from yesterday. Take me to see Cayne.”

     
To Julia’s complete shock, Nathan flattened his lips, exhaled out his nostrils like an angry horse, and said, “Fine.”

     
For a moment she was too shocked to respond. Then she nodded. “Thank you.”

She’d expected a tense, unpleasant walk, but Nathan was surprisingly communicative.

She followed him through what felt like ten miles of identical tunnels, enduring his questions—which, while not ferocious or insulting, were delivered in a hard, flat tone. “Did
Mer
take you to the infirmary?” (“No. I wasn’t sick. My powers just went crazy.”
Mer
, she thought, and raised her brows.) “Did you ever get breakfast?” (“Do you care?”) “Are you…angry at me? For bringing you here?” (“No, I love it here, Jim Jones.” To which Nathan said, “Jim who?”) “Um, were you born here?” she asked. Her stomach flipped as soon as she said it.
Moron, moron, moron!
Why would she ask about his childhood?

     
“No, I wasn’t born here.” He gave her an odd, wide-eyed glance—one that made him look surprisingly vulnerable, maybe even almost
emotional
—and Julia held her breath, waiting for the blow. The accusation. The bit about his dead family, slain by a Hunter. It didn’t come.

     
Instead his shoulders slumped, his face went very flat, and when they started walking through walls—and Julia had to pretend she’d never done it—his hand around hers felt stiff and heavy. As they Floated through the wall together, she felt a surprising, unpleasant wave of serious Nathan sympathy. Which seemed an awful lot like Cayne
 
skepticism. Something she so did not want to feel right now. Not when she was finally getting to see him again.

     
She was glad when they emerged from the wall and Nathan dropped her hand. When she had the wherewithal to look around, she found herself in the most narrow hallway she’d ever seen. Seriously—it was only wide enough for people walking single file. The walls were curved, the ceiling arched, the echo making Julia feel that at any moment it would close on her.

     
Then she realized that in an escape situation, it probably would.

     
Nathan waved her forward. “You can go first.”

     
Julia shook her head. “No way. This place is freaky.”

     
She could
feel
the freakiness. The bad vibes. The tunnel-hall didn’t sound or smell any different than any other throughway—it was that same shimmery, pale stone—but something about it
 
made her stomach tie itself into a pretzel.

     
Nathan shoved past her, mumbling, “Alright,” in a kind-of hostile tone she thought might have masked something more melancholic.

     
After walking for so long she was afraid he was luring her to something else, Nathan stopped at what at first appeared to be a random spot. Then she noticed the square cut into the wall and watched him press his hand on it. A beam of golden light shone between his fingers, and she was able to see his face, tight and pale.

     
He was nervous. And that made her
super
nervous.

     
In the flash of a second, a copper-looking door appeared in the wall; she glimpsed a dark color through the small, barred window, and then the door peeked open, revealing a huge man dressed in a black guard jumpsuit. Nathan said something Julia didn’t catch, and the wide metal door squealed open wide.

     
Nathan waved her inside. “See
ya
,” he said, trying and failing to sound flippant.

     
“But—”

     
“He’ll tell me when to come back.” And then Nathan was gone, leaving Julia with an annoying feeling of abandonment.

     
The guard didn’t nod or even look at her; he shuffled down another hall, his shoulders brushing the walls as he moved.

     
The walls looked like copper—one big, long sheet of copper, until finally they partitioned off into large squares with copper bars, copper hinges, copper keyholes.
 

     
Julia’s heart was in her shoes; she felt desperate to see Cayne and also afraid to see him. She saw “waste” (not waste; she hated that term) and a dirty-looking Nephilim with long, scraggly black hair. She saw a short, stout Nephilim with a buzz cut and vacant eyes. She heard a wrenching scream and stopped. The guard turned, grunted. She walked forward on wobbly legs and… there he was.