The Girl Who Wasn't (23 page)

“
Gone,” she says
simply.

I shake my head. None of this makes
sense. “But … how are you here, Anna? How did you find
me?”

Something subtle changes and I know
I’ve hit the mark. “I didn’t,” she admits. “Well, not on my own, at
least. I had help.”

“
Who?” The knot in my
stomach tightens.

“
Don’t get upset, okay, she
won’t hurt you anymore. That wasn’t supposed to happen before.
She’s—”

Anna is cut off as the bathroom door
opens and a girl walks in. Her red hair hangs loose down her back
and she smirks when she sees me, a satisfied, confident sort of
smile.

I scream. The sound is muffled by
Anna’s hand clamping over my mouth. She yanks me backward against
her chest and holds me by wrapping her free hand around my neck
while my feet hop and jump and struggle to carry me
away.

“
Relax, Raven,” the redhead
says. “Or should I say, Ven. I’m not here to hurt you.”

The sound of my real name sends a shock
through me. I go still in Anna’s arms and for a moment, I am lost.
I cannot remember how I got here.

I don’t know who I am.

But then she smiles and it
all floods in again. This party. The night in the alley. Her words
just now:
I’m not here to hurt
you.

I don’t believe her. I can’t. Not after
the marks I still wear from the last time we met. I renew my
struggle against Anna’s hold. I can feel her arm loosening.
Adrenaline surges through me and I yank sideways and then I am
free. I barrel into the redhead with my head down and my shoulder
jutting out, the force of it knocking her aside as I tumble out the
restroom door.

The hallway is empty. Obadiah is
nowhere in sight. My shoulders heave, the exertion and panic
wreaking havoc on my bruised windpipe. But I will not be cornered
by the redhead, not again.

I am frantic to find Obadiah. I know
she has done something to him. That thought is enough to tempt me
to turn around and fight. If not for me, then for him. But I am no
match for her. My only option is escape. At least until Linc and
the others come for me.

I shove the stairwell door open and
hurry through.

I have only a split second to decide up
or down before I hear the door opening behind me. Anna and her
friend with the iron fists are chasing me. I race downward. I am
faster heading down. And I am too afraid of being trapped on a
rooftop to go upward. I hope Obadiah is down.

My heels create an echoing thump
against the stairs. The sound is drowned out by the masculine
pounding of boots as the redhead—who has not bothered to dress for
a party—gives chase. I reach a door and race through too fast to
read the sign above.

Inside, it is pitch-black and I dart
sideways around some sort of exhaust system just as the door opens
behind me. I crouch down, my heart thumping so loud I am sure it
will give me away.

When my vision adjusts enough to make
out shapes, I continue left, darting farther inside what is
apparently a boiler room. Exhaust steam rises up around me, sucked
out massive piping capped with giant fans that carry it toward a
ventilation shaft overhead. The booted footsteps have faded. The
redhead has, for the moment, chosen a direction opposite of my
hiding spot.

I calculate the distance to the glowing
exit sign.

My escape plan is sidelined when far
back, I hear voices. One of them is obviously male and annoyingly
familiar and I cannot fight my curiosity. I hurry closer, careful
to stay hidden behind the exhaust units. It isn’t until I’m almost
upon them that I realize it is Daniel and the redhead. I inch
closer until their strained conversation reaches me.

“…
Wasn’t the agreement,”
Daniel says.

“
Obviously. Anna came on her
own—”

“
Annalyn,” he interrupts.
“I’ve told you over and over, Mel, you have to call them by their
Authentic’s name. One slip-up is all it would take to bring this
whole thing crashing down.”

Daniel’s words are starkly similar to
the stranger I heard with Titus yesterday. But Daniel can’t
possibly be referring to the same thing. Can he?

“
Whatever,” the girl
mutters. “
Annalyn
broke protocol. She got excited seeing a familiar face. I had
to haul ass to get down here before she did any real damage.” Her
tone is absent of the malicious twist she always uses with me. She
sounds annoyed. And slightly defensive.

“
Are you saying you can’t
handle one measly little product?”

“
Please,” she scoffs. “I
handled it. Stop worrying.”

“
As long as you keep
screwing it up, I’ll worry. Please tell me no one else saw
you.”

“
No one else saw
me?”

“
Melanie,” he growls. “This
is serious.”

Melanie. Her name is
Melanie.

She sighs. “There was a guy standing
outside the bathroom when I got there. I handled it.”

“
What guy?”

“
Whitcomb, I
think?”

“
Father or son?”

“
Son.”

Daniel curses. “You can’t hurt him. All
we need is his product coming in.”

“
I only knocked him out. I
don’t even think he saw me.”

“
You better hope so. Where’d
you stash him?”

“
In the coatroom. I still
don’t understand why we need this chick. We’ve got plenty of others
already stashed.”

“
And you don’t need to
understand,” he snaps at her. “You only need to follow orders. And
you can barely do that.”

“
Bite me.”

He grins. “Plenty of time for that
later, baby.”

She sidles up to him and presses her
body to his. “Promise?” she asks in a husky voice.

“
If you finish what you
started with Raven, then yes.”

Melanie scowls and steps back. “I’ll
finish what I started all right,” she mutters.

“
No more trying to kill
her,” Daniel says. “We want her alive. And besides, she’s only a
product.”

“
I know that. I just … when
I saw her, all I saw was the other Raven. I couldn’t help myself.”
She shrinks under Daniel’s glare. “It won’t happen again,” she
adds.

He sighs. “Where’s Raven
now?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. Probably
slipped out.”

“
I need to go wipe the
security feed. Make sure no one IDs either of us. No more
screw-ups, Mel. I mean it. Next time I tell you to grab this girl,
make it happen.”

“
It’s not my fault. That
freaking security guy is like a ninja,” she says. “He keeps saving
her ass.”

Daniel nods. “Linc Crawford. I’ll speak
to Gus.”

“
Can’t you get him
reassigned?”

“
Not without tipping off
Titus.”

“
What the hell good was it
to force Titus to switch Gus for his product if he can’t help with
stuff like this?”

“
Because, idiot, it gives us
the inside track on Titus’s whereabouts. I made sure he was gone
tonight, didn’t I? And now it’s all for nothing because you
couldn’t control one stupid product.”

“
Don’t call me an idiot,”
she snaps.

“
I’ll figure something out
to deal with Crawford. Get the hell out of here and back to base.
And no more calling me to social events. This was too
risky.”

“
Yes, sir,” she says, her
words full of sarcasm. She gives him an exaggerated salute. Then
she presses a quick kiss to Daniel’s scowling mouth and slips
away.

Chapter Thirteen

Two days later, I have examined every
book, essay, and newspaper I can find in Rogen Tower. None of them
mention what I’m looking for: Twig City. I wonder how many others
from this world know its name or even that it exists. I am tempted
to ask Gus. I’ve seen him only twice since the night I heard Daniel
and the redhead—Melanie—say that he is an Imitation. A product, as
they call it.

Both times he is the same old Gus,
grouchy and silent. His examiners would be proud of the way he’s
integrated himself as his Authentic. He seems completely immersed
in his role. Because of that, I can’t bring myself to give away
what I know. About him. Or Senator Ryan. Or his son.

One thing is clear. Titus
has no idea it is Daniel trying to kill me. And I have no idea if
he’ll even believe me if I tell him. Or if I want him to. The
redhead’s words replay in my mind so many times, they are imprinted
on the inside of my eyelids:
or the others
we’ve got stashed.

I go back to what the stranger in the
study said to Titus, about being disturbed by all of the
disappearances. And I think he must mean Imitations are
disappearing. Being taken. By Daniel, it looks like. The idea of
Imitations being held against their will somewhere in this city
gives me enough pause that I don’t tell Titus what I know. Not all
of it. And then I remember the fresh wound on Anna’s arm. Her
missing GPS. Her complete willingness to be aligned with
Melanie.

Deep down, I know my reticence is due
to one thing. Would I be better off letting Daniel and Melanie have
me? I don’t have an answer for that yet.

The only reason I went forward with the
story of my attack was for Obadiah. By the time I arrived at the
coatroom to check on him, he’d already woken and notified security.
The police were called—the first time I’d seen a legitimate police
officer since arriving at Rogen Tower—and an official report made.
Titus showed up and swept me away before I could give more than a
preliminary statement, shushing me all the way to the
car.

Once inside, I gave him an edited
version of events, careful to leave out all mention of Annalyn
being Anna or the fact that Daniel was there, a veritable
string-puller. When I mentioned Melanie, Titus’s face went red and
he pressed his lips together so tightly they turned white. He
hasn’t been home since. From Gus and the other security guards who
watch me, I’ve gathered he is holed up inside Twig City. I can only
guess he’s trying to ready his new product line more quickly than
intended.

The men are tight-lipped about
everything. My exercise routine goes by the wayside. They are all
on edge and I overhear a couple of them talking about the men who
were with me at the party that night. Both team leaders were fired
and no one has heard from them since. The general consensus is that
any one of the remaining men will be next.

For their sakes, I want so badly to say
it is Daniel who Titus wants. Daniel who works with him. Daniel who
comes to dinner and hangs on his every word. Daniel who will
someday run the empire he is secretly already trying to take over.
Or crush.

But I don’t. Because six words repeat
over and over in my head.

…
Or the others we’ve got
stashed.

And I know if Imitations are in danger,
there is absolutely no one else in the entire world who can help
them—except maybe me.

I close the book I’m holding and return
it to the shelf with the others that contain essays on subterranean
particles. It is a dusty shelf tucked away in the corner of the
parlor. There is nothing helpful here, but I’ve been through
everything else.

“
What are you looking
for?”

I spin and find Linc standing just
inside the open door. His expression is one of open curiosity but I
know it’s more than that. For the past two days, he’s kept his
distance, watching with sharp eyes as I search through the tomes
for answers. Now that I’ve come up empty, I realize I never
expected much to begin with.

“
I don’t know,” I answer
honestly. And because I’ve never come right out and asked, I add,
“How much do you know about the work done by RogenCorp?”

“
They conduct scientific
research for private companies through grants and donations,” he
says, eyeing me as if he thinks it’s a trick question.
“Why?”

“
Just trying to understand
more about what they do.”

“
Why don’t you ask your
father?”

I stare at him pointedly.

“
Yeah, okay,” he says. “But
why the sudden interest?”

I shrug. “Nothing better to do, I
guess.”

He folds his arms across his chest in
challenge. “You’re lying.”

“
All right. I think the
people after me have some connection to RogenCorp.”

He straightens, instantly alert. “What
makes you think that?”

I return his gaze without a word. I can
see the frustration set in. I hurry to speak again before he can
accuse me of another lie. “Do you know a girl named Annalyn
Benner?”

His brow crinkles as he tries to place
it. “Benner … a statesman’s daughter, right? Why do I remember that
name?” Recognition dawns and he looks back at me. It is a regretful
sort of expression. “It was on the security reports yesterday. She
was killed in a carjacking a couple of days ago. Why? Did you know
her?”