tests?”
My fingernails bite into the flesh of my hands. “Protocols are done in C wing.”
“Mid-section?”
“Yes.”
He pushes a lock of blond hair from his face with an impatient hand. “Can you maybe use your spooky twin thing to hone in on her, Princess?”
I ignore the taunt and reach for my sister. Like slipping into her flesh, sinking into her body. Only this time—
A scream rips from me as my body jerks. Pain pulses through my lower belly, rippling up from the secret part of me to the tips of my fingers. I double up, try to protect myself. In an instant Jared is beside me, holding me up.
“What’s happening, Lucy?” he asks with dead calm. “What’s happening to Margot?”
But I can’t breathe, can’t think past the pain and horror. Can’ t stop, can ’t make it stop. “They’ re — don ’t know. So awful,” I tell him. “Hurts.” Tears leak down my face and cover his shirt. I look down and pull my fingers away, expecting to see blood. There’s nothing there.
Jared pulls my head back and makes me look in his face. “Tell me where it hurts. Where are they hurting her?”
He doesn’t look down to where I’m holding myself, to where my lower belly is being ripped to shreds by invisible knives. He keeps looking into my eyes, a witness to me living through my sister’s torture. But he knows.
“Okay.” His voice is gentler than I could have imagined. “Turn it off now, Lucy. Just turn it off.”
My teeth are clenched so tight my jaw is wired shut. “Can’t.”
I barely feel his hands cradling my cheeks, pulling damp locks from my eyes. Then there’s only Jared. Jared’s eyes, feral and light. Looking straight into me again. “Come on. Do it.”
I flick a switch I didn’t even know existed. Margot’s pain shuts down, and I am alone, drowning in need for my sister. He catches me as I slip toward the ground. The only thing pinning me to the here and now is Jared as he grabs hold of my upper arms. The warm rise of his chest as he holds me close to him.
When I’m able, I lean in close to his ear. “I think she’ s in Protocols, ” I whisper.
“What makes you think so?”
I shrug, unable to put into words the complicated network of signals I share with Margot. He studies me for a moment. Without another word he hoists an arm around my back and hauls me up. I try to shake off my sense of disorientation as we move toward the big ugly cargo bay doors, gray and dented in a dozen places. Jared stops and props me up with a steadying hand and a military look in his eye. Pulling out a smart device he taps in a series of numbers, then holds the phone up to a small black box nestled into the wall next to the door, at the level of my head. A tiny red dot turns green and a snick sounds loudly in the quiet bay. He pulls the door back slowly, positioning me behind his body. Nothing and nobody comes out. So he grabs my hand and we slip inside.
The hallways are deserted, filled with tinny music. It’s cranked so loud I want to cover my ears. Jared’s hand tightens on mine as he hauls me into a doorway and presses me back.
“You don’t move until I say so,” he breathes into my ear. “You do what I say, when I say it, or I’m hauling you out of here by your hair.”
I stare at him. Jared’s face is raw: all bones, pinched nose, and a flat, thin line where his very sensual lips have been pressed together. I expect panic to swamp me, but it isn’t there. Just the thought that, even though I don’t know this man, I trust he won’t do what he’s threatening. At least, he won’t drag me out by my shoulder-length hair. He’ll choose another part of my anatomy. His face tightens as we consider each other.
“Lucy?” His voice is barely audible. I nod. He nods. Apparently we’ve struck a bargain.
I point down the hall. Built in the shape of a giant “H,” the Clinic’s half dozen testing rooms are tucked away in the hallway that stretches through the middle section. Jared
My fingernails bite into the flesh of my hands. “Protocols are done in C wing.”
“Mid-section?”
“Yes.”
He pushes a lock of blond hair from his face with an impatient hand. “Can you maybe use your spooky twin thing to hone in on her, Princess?”
I ignore the taunt and reach for my sister. Like slipping into her flesh, sinking into her body. Only this time—
A scream rips from me as my body jerks. Pain pulses through my lower belly, rippling up from the secret part of me to the tips of my fingers. I double up, try to protect myself. In an instant Jared is beside me, holding me up.
“What’s happening, Lucy?” he asks with dead calm. “What’s happening to Margot?”
But I can’t breathe, can’t think past the pain and horror. Can’ t stop, can ’t make it stop. “They’ re — don ’t know. So awful,” I tell him. “Hurts.” Tears leak down my face and cover his shirt. I look down and pull my fingers away, expecting to see blood. There’s nothing there.
Jared pulls my head back and makes me look in his face. “Tell me where it hurts. Where are they hurting her?”
He doesn’t look down to where I’m holding myself, to where my lower belly is being ripped to shreds by invisible knives. He keeps looking into my eyes, a witness to me living through my sister’s torture. But he knows.
“Okay.” His voice is gentler than I could have imagined. “Turn it off now, Lucy. Just turn it off.”
My teeth are clenched so tight my jaw is wired shut. “Can’t.”
I barely feel his hands cradling my cheeks, pulling damp locks from my eyes. Then there’s only Jared. Jared’s eyes, feral and light. Looking straight into me again. “Come on. Do it.”
I flick a switch I didn’t even know existed. Margot’s pain shuts down, and I am alone, drowning in need for my sister. He catches me as I slip toward the ground. The only thing pinning me to the here and now is Jared as he grabs hold of my upper arms. The warm rise of his chest as he holds me close to him.
When I’m able, I lean in close to his ear. “I think she’ s in Protocols, ” I whisper.
“What makes you think so?”
I shrug, unable to put into words the complicated network of signals I share with Margot. He studies me for a moment. Without another word he hoists an arm around my back and hauls me up. I try to shake off my sense of disorientation as we move toward the big ugly cargo bay doors, gray and dented in a dozen places. Jared stops and props me up with a steadying hand and a military look in his eye. Pulling out a smart device he taps in a series of numbers, then holds the phone up to a small black box nestled into the wall next to the door, at the level of my head. A tiny red dot turns green and a snick sounds loudly in the quiet bay. He pulls the door back slowly, positioning me behind his body. Nothing and nobody comes out. So he grabs my hand and we slip inside.
The hallways are deserted, filled with tinny music. It’s cranked so loud I want to cover my ears. Jared’s hand tightens on mine as he hauls me into a doorway and presses me back.
“You don’t move until I say so,” he breathes into my ear. “You do what I say, when I say it, or I’m hauling you out of here by your hair.”
I stare at him. Jared’s face is raw: all bones, pinched nose, and a flat, thin line where his very sensual lips have been pressed together. I expect panic to swamp me, but it isn’t there. Just the thought that, even though I don’t know this man, I trust he won’t do what he’s threatening. At least, he won’t drag me out by my shoulder-length hair. He’ll choose another part of my anatomy. His face tightens as we consider each other.
“Lucy?” His voice is barely audible. I nod. He nods. Apparently we’ve struck a bargain.
I point down the hall. Built in the shape of a giant “H,” the Clinic’s half dozen testing rooms are tucked away in the hallway that stretches through the middle section. Jared
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