The woman gave a sharp nod. “I must thank you for your quick reflexes.” She turned and nodded to the door. “If you’ll both come with me.”
We followed her around the desk and through the door to an elevator. She stepped in, motioning for us to follow, but Kale stopped short. He glared at her and took a step back. “Are there stairs?”
The woman balked. “Of course there are, but we’re going—”
“I’ll take the stairs.”
She looked to me for help, but I only shrugged, stepping off the elevator. Ten minutes later the woman, who introduced herself as Sira by floor four, stopped in front of one of the rooms and pulled out a set of keys. “If you’ll wait in here, someone will be along shortly.”
She held the door open and once we were inside, closed it behind us. From the other side, I heard the echo of her heels clacking on the linoleum fade.
Kale stared at the two single beds in the middle of the room. With caution, he approached the first, and dropped to his knees. Once satisfied there was nothing there, he moved to the next.
“What are you doing?”
“Checking under the beds.”
I rolled my eyes. “I can see that. Why?”
He stood, face serious, and said, “Because that’s the first place I’d hide if I wanted to kill someone.”
The way he said it made my skin crawl. Like informing me the forecast called for rain.
He sat down and nodded to the large window. “Tell me about your life. Tell me what it’s like to live out there.”
“There’s not much to tell. I’m a screwup—bad grades, always in trouble.” I laughed and sat down beside him. “Hell, Dad probably contemplated sending you to punish me on more than one occasion.”
He leaned close and ran a finger over my cheek and down to my chin. “You’re a good person.”
“So are you,” I whispered. Then, making a spur of the moment decision, I brushed the lightest of kisses on his left cheek.
He sat up straight, eyes wide, and touched the tip of his index finger to his cheek. “What was that?”
I blushed. “A kiss.”
“That’s what a kiss feels like?”
“Well, technically. There are a lot of different types of—”
“Show me.”
“Show you what?”
“Show me some of the other kinds.”
“You’re asking me to kiss you?”
He nodded, hands curled over the edge of the bed. “Is that not right?”
“I—” I didn’t know how to respond. Imagine that. Me. Speechless. Glaciers were probably popping up all over hell.
Kale was sitting next to me, eyes full of surprise and hope. Who was I kidding? The guy was gorgeous. Kissing him would by no means be an act of mercy.
I leaned in, blood pounding in my ears like the bass in the back of Brandt’s Jeep. Our lips were inches apart, breath mingling, when a noise came from the door. We both jumped as a petite redhead entered. Wow. Talk about crappy timing! “You are Dez and Kale, I presume?”
We nodded.
“Good. I am Misha Vaugn. Please, may I ask who sent you to me?”
“My cousin.” I stood. Kale did the same. “He…found your name…” …while sneaking thorough some super-secret files in my dad’s home office.
“And what exactly do you need my assistance with?”
I hesitated. If Misha wanted to help, then she was against my dad. If she was against Dad, would she really help me? Or by extension, Kale? She might see it as a trap. I probably would.
“We need help, and we don’t know where else to turn.” I took a deep breath. “I’ll be honest with you. My name is Deznee Cross. Marshall Cross is my dad. Do you know who he is?” I held my breath and waited for her to kick us out. She didn’t.
“I know of Marshall Cross,” she said, disgust evident in her tone. Oh, look. Another fan. “Continue.”
“Yesterday, Kale broke away from Denazen. He found me by accident and I helped him escape. I didn’t know about my dad and I didn’t know about Denazen. I brought Kale back to my house, but my dad came home.”
She arched a brow. “I bet that was quite a surprise.”
“He attacked Kale and we ran.”
“Come here, girl.”
Misha Vaugn might have been a slim, petite woman, but boy did she have one hell of a presence. I didn’t intimidate easily—usually I was the first one to step up and start something—but this woman freaked me out.
“Give me your hands,” she said.
I did. She took them, closing her eyes.
“You helped the boy escape,” she said, eyes still closed. I wanted to point out that we’d covered that already but decided against it. A few moments of silence passed before she opened them and released my hands. “The Denazen Corporation uses people like Kale and me for their own purposes. They steal children away from their families and brainwash them.” She eyed Kale with sympathy. “They do whatever is necessary to rid them of conscience and humanity. Some of the young ones don’t survive their methods. The ones that do are locked up and…coerced to do Denazen’s bidding. If that doesn’t work, they’re eliminated.”
Kale’s voice was whisper low, like a puff of smoke hanging in the air. “When I was younger, Sue told me to do what they wanted. She said I needed to be blank. I had to do my job or they’d keep hurting me.” He pushed the sleeve of his shirt up to reveal a nasty-looking scar. “She would cry when they hurt me. I hated when she cried.”
My stomach squeezed and acid bubbled in my throat. What the hell had they done to him? To her? Time for answers. “What are they? I mean, is it government-related or something?”
Misha frowned. “We believe the government is involved, yes, but there’s still much we don’t know.”
“The Reaper?” I asked “My mom told Kale to look for someone called the Reaper. Said he could help. Can you tell us anything about him?”
Misha shook her head. “I have heard of him, but I do not know where he is. The rumor is he was once one of the most dangerous of Denazen’s weapons. He is the only one to have escaped their facility and survive.” She looked at Kale and smiled. “Until now.”
This Reaper guy had escaped Denazen—something I was starting to see was no small feat. If I could find him, he could help get my mom out. He might be my only chance of saving her.
“Who would know where to find him?”
“The Reaper is deep in hiding,” she said with a frown. “There are rumors of him being spotted all over the country, but no one knows where he really is.”
“No offense, but that doesn’t help us at all.” Rumors were useless. For all we knew, the Reaper was some urban legend made up to make little Sixes eat their veggies and feel safe.
She leaned over and opened the nightstand drawer. Pulling out a pad of paper and a pen, she scribbled something and tore the page off. “Go to this address and speak with Cole Oster. He may be able to give you more information.” She stood. “You are welcome to stay the night, but you must leave at first light. It is too dangerous to have you here, Deznee Cross.”
I nodded and thanked her, settling back on the bed.
She made it to the door, before turning and giving Kale a stern look. “Because of the dangerous nature of your gift, I’m afraid I’ll need to insist you stay in this room at all times. I do not wish to see any of my guests harmed.”
Kale nodded and watched her leave. By the time the door clicked closed, he was sitting beside me again. Warmth soaked through my jeans where he rested a hand on my leg.
“Okay,” he said.
“Okay?”
“She’s gone.”
I glanced back at the door. “Yes, she is.” I knew what he was hinting at, and for some reason it made me nervous. A
nother first. I made guys nervous, not the other way around. I wasn’t sure I liked this new turn of events. Expect a guy to notice your new shoes or killer pair of jeans, or hell, even remember your name, and you’re asking too much. But if you’re about to kiss him? He’s a dog with a big juicy bone.
He touched my cheek, smiling. “That was nice.”
I sucked in a breath. God he was cute… “Was it?”
He nodded enthusiastically. “What’s another kind?”
His grin was infectious. I shifted on the bed till I was sitting sideways, facing him. He did the same.
Reaching out, he grabbed my hand and placed it on his chest, over his heart. “Why does my heart pump faster when we’re close? How is it you do that to me?”
Under my fingers, his heart hammered a rhythm that matched my own. I smiled. “Nerves, excitement, fear. Could be a lot of things.”
“Nerves?”
“Like when you’re worried about something. Nervous.”
“I know what nervous is.” He took his hand off mine and leaned toward me, pressing it over my heart. I tried not to focus on what his hand was curving around. “Yours is doing the same. Are you nervous?”
“Yeah, I guess I am, a little.”
His hand stayed there, but his eyes were on mine now, searching. “Nervous because of me?”
“Yes,” I said. “No. I mean, it’s complicated.”
He leaned back, expression sour. “I don’t like that word. Complicated.”
I laughed. “No one does, trust me.”
“Do I make you afraid?”
The laughter died on my lips. What to say? Yes. I was afraid of him. Terrified, actually. But not for the reasons he thought. Moving his hand, I grabbed his chin. Taking one last gulp of air in an attempt to chase away the butterflies going to town in my stomach, I closed the small distance between us.
Our lips met, warm and soft, and I felt him stiffen. Not quite the response I normally got. Reaching up, I slid my fingers along the sides of his face and into his hair. When he still didn’t move, I pulled away to look at him. His arms stayed at his sides, knuckles white as he clutched the edge of the bed. Breath coming in heavy pants, he looked down at himself for a moment before grabbing my hand and placing it over his heart again.
“It’s even faster now.”
So was mine. I leaned in again, kissing him until he relaxed. With a contented sigh, he reached for my waist and drew me closer. After what seemed like forever, I pulled away and smiled.
“We should really get some sleep,” I whispered.
Kale frowned. “I’m not tired.” He ran his finger along my bottom lip. “I’d like to do that again. Please?”
I chuckled and slipped from his arms. “You’re a lot more normal than you think.”
“That was like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. Does it feel like that every time?” He leaned back and swung his feet up without taking the boots off.
“With the right person, probably.” I pulled off my sneakers and burrowed under the covers of the other bed. The cheap hotel duvet was rough against my skin. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine it was as soft as my down comforter at home with its homemade, jersey covering, and thick, fluffy filling. The pillow was hard—even with the second one stuffed beneath it. The duffle Brandt had given me was about the same size. I could make it a third pillow but it probably wouldn’t work and wasn’t worth the headache I’d still have in the morning.
“What was it like for you?”
I leaned over and flicked off the light. A car pulled into the parking lot, headlights shining through the small gap in the drapes. The light sent shadows dancing across the walls.
“It was… different,” I admitted with caution.
Across from me, Kale gave a satisfied-sounding hmm, and I drifted off to sleep with a goofy smile on my lips.
6
As promised, we’d left the hotel at first light. The same woman who’d been manning the front desk the night before gave us an overly cheerful wave and thanked us for staying as if we’d been on vacation. Then, when we opened the door, she told us never to return.
Way to be hospitable.
The duffle bag Brandt had given Kale at the Graveyard had one of his blue T-shirts—luckily long-sleeved, a pair of black leather gloves, and two changes of clothes for me. Stuffed into the back pocket of my jeans was forty bucks. I felt bad for Kale having to wear a long-sleeved shirt and gloves in this heat, but better to swelter than unwittingly murder an innocent bystander.
We stood under the awning to wait for the bus—which was late as usual. I cleared my throat. “Look, I know you think you need to find this Reaper guy, but what if you skipped town?” The suggestion made my limbs go numb. I didn’t want him to leave, but I’d be a horrible person for not at least suggesting it. Selfish was something I’d never done. If Kale could make it on his own, who was I to try and keep him here?
“Skipped town?”
“Yeah, like, left. I can get you cash and you could book. Get a head start on Denazen.”
“And you would come with me?”
I started to pace. “Of course not. Now that I know my mom is alive, I can’t leave her. I’m going to find this Reaper and get him to help me save her.”
Eyebrows drawn, he shook his head. “Then why would I leave?”
“To be safe? To get away? I have a feeling life in that place was no day at the carnival. Why chance getting sucked back in?”
Kale stood and grabbed my hand. I had to remind myself to keep breathing. “If there is a chance to help Sue and see that you remain free, then it is worth the risk.”
Tiny prickles of happy sparked a reaction from every nerve ending in my system. A complicated swell of emotion—something I hadn’t felt in, well, ever—came rushing to the surface. I wanted him to elaborate. But of course, the bus picked that moment to roll into the stop.
We paid the fare and took a seat in the back. Kale wasn’t happy with the situation from the get-go. He scrunched up his nose and pointed to the woman in front of us. “Why is her hair like that?”
The woman, somewhere in her late twenties if I had to guess, turned and flipped us off.
I smacked Kale’s arm and whispered, “They’re called dreads. It’s a hairstyle.”
He didn’t lower his voice. “They smell funny.”
The woman turned again, this time gearing up to tell us off. Before she could get a word out, I mumbled, “He’s foreign. First day in America.”
She muttered something justifiably rude and turned back in her seat.
“Social Behavior 101…” I said, leaning close. “Don’t point out how other people look.”
He raised his eyebrows in confusion, and I sighed.
The bus dropped us off about three blocks from the address Misha had given me. The timing was perfect. In the short trip, Kale managed to piss off a pregnant woman by calling her large and a goth kid for inquiring about his makeup. If we hadn’t gotten off the bus when we did, there probably would have been a riot.
The strip was busy—summer was just getting started, and I felt better about being out in public. No way would Dad send his goons to attack us with all these people here to see it. At least, that’s what I hoped.
About two blocks away, Kale reached down and took my hand. At first, I freaked, thinking he’d taken it to pull me out of the way, or possibly to get my attention, but when my gaze skittered to his, panic thick in my throat, he wasn’t even looking at me. His eyes were trained on the sidewalk ahead, speed casual.
I waited, positive he’d let go…but he didn’t. When he caught me staring at our clasped hands, his brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?”
“I—nothing, I—” I felt like an idiot. I hadn’t stammered like a moron because of a guy since the age of thirte
en. I definitely didn’t love this new turn of events.
“This is correct, right?” He raised our hands, fingers still laced together. He nodded to an older couple approaching, hands clasped and laughing. “This is what people do here?”
“It’s a little more complicated than that.”
“Everything seems complicated here,” he grumbled.
“That’s life,” I laughed. “Life is complicated.”
“And that’s good?”
I nodded. “That’s good.”
He let this settle for a moment before squeezing my hand. “Explain what I did wrong. With the hand thing.”
I sighed. If I had to have the sex talk with a guy my own age, I was going to die. Baseball analogies wouldn’t work. He probably didn’t even know what baseball was. “When two people like each other, they hold hands.”
He looked down at our hands, still confused. “You helped me, so I do like you.”
Was it this hard for parents? “No, it’s a different kind of like. Like when two people want to be more than friends. Like, do more than just hold hands.”
“More? Like what?”
Oh. My. God. This was so not happening. “There’s like, as in you enjoy hanging out with someone, and then there’s like, as in they make you feel special. Happy. The kissing type of like.”
His eyes lit up. “Should I kiss you instead of holding your hand?”
My heart responded with a thumping, yes!
“I’m not explaining this right. People kiss when they’re attracted to each other. It makes them feel…nice.”
“Touching you makes me happy. It feels nice.” His grin widened. “The kiss last night was very nice.”
I sighed and gave him a small smile. This was a circular conversation and my brain was starting to overheat. All this talk of kissing and Kale looking at me with those amazing blue eyes… Focus! “I’m sure it does feel nice. But I think you like it because I’m the only person you can touch.”
He was quiet for a few minutes before answering. “Possibly.”
Something inside me twisted. I’d suggested it because it was logical, but still, I wanted him to insist I was wrong—which kind of bugged me. Now was not the time for crush obsession.