The Reckoning

I tried getting up, but my muscles refused, and I slumped to the floor. The last thing I saw was Andrew’s face, inches away, dead eyes staring into mine.

Thirty-nine

COLD METAL VIBRATED AGAINST my cheek. A car roared past.

“How’s his blood sugar?” A distant woman’s voice. Margaret.

“Low.” A man’s voice, closer. Russell. “Very low. I can give him a glucose shot, but we really should-”

“Do that.”

“Derek.” Simon’s voice now, the name coming out as a moan.

My eyes fluttered open. We were lying on the floor of a van. Simon was a few feet from me, still asleep, face screwed up, like he was in pain.

“And give him more sedative,” Margaret called back from the driver’s seat. “I don’t want them waking up.”

“He really shouldn’t get too much-”

“Just do it.”

I closed my eyes to slits, so they wouldn’t realize I was awake. I tried to look around without moving my head, but all I could see was Simon and, over his head, Tori’s sneaker.

Derek. Where is-?

My eyelids closed again.

The van stopped moving. Cold air rushed over me, exhaust fumes blasting in. The engine rumbled, then died. Another rumble, like a closing garage door. The wind disappeared and everything went dark. Then a light flicked on.

Simon retched beside me. The stink of vomit filled the van. I pried my eyes open to see him, sitting, supported by Russell, who held a plastic bag for him.

“Simon.” My voice came out thick.

He turned. His eyes met mine and struggled to focus. His lips parted and he rasped, “You’re okay,” then he gagged and hunched back over the vomit bag.

“What did you give him?” a man’s voice snapped.

I knew that voice. Cool fingers wrapped around my bare arm. I looked up. Dr. Davidoff’s face hovered above mine.

“It’s all right, Chloe.” He smiled. “You’re home.”

A guard rolled me through the halls in a wheelchair, my arms and legs strapped down. Tori rode beside me, also restrained, pushed by another guard.

“It’s a temporary measure,” Dr. Davidoff had assured me when the guard bound me to the chair. “We don’t want to sedate you again, so this is our only alternative until you’ve had time to reacclimatize.”

Dr. Davidoff walked between the guards. Behind them, Margaret and Russell walked as they talked to Tori’s mom, who hadn’t said a word to her daughter since we’d arrived.

“We decided this was the best place for them,” Margaret was saying. “They need a level of control and supervision that we just can’t provide.”

“Your compassion and consideration are overwhelming,” Diane Enright said. “And where did you want us to deposit your finder’s fee again?”

I could feel the chill in Margaret’s tone when she answered. “You have the account number.”

“We aren’t leaving until we’ve confirmed the deposit,” Russell chimed in. “And if you get any ideas about not paying us-”

“I’m sure you’ve taken precautions against just such a possibility,” Mrs. Enright said drily. “A letter to be opened in the event of your sudden disappearance, exposing us all?”

“No,” Margaret said. “Just someone waiting for our call. A colleague with a direct line to the Nast Cabal and all the details of your operation. I’m sure Mr. St. Cloud wouldn’t want that.”

Dr. Davidoff only chuckled. “Threatening a Cabal with a Cabal? Clever. But that won’t be necessary.” The good humor drained from his voice. “Whatever Mr. St. Cloud’s interest in our organization, we remain an independent operation, meaning we do not operate under the auspices of his Cabal. You made a deal with us-a sizable payment in return for our subjects and the disbanding of your little rebel group. You have earned that payment and you will get it without treachery or threat of violence.”

He glanced back at them. “However, considering it is, ultimately, Mr. St. Cloud’s money that is paying you, I would suggest that when you leave the safety of our walls, you get as far away as you can, as fast as you can.”

When Tori’s mom led Margaret and Russell away, I asked about Simon. I hated giving Dr. Davidoff the satisfaction of hearing the tremor in my voice, but I had to know.

“I’m taking you to see him now, Chloe,” he said in that condescending fake-cheerful tone I knew too well. Look how good we are to you, it said. And look how you treat us. We only want to help. My fingernails dug into the arms of my wheelchair.

Dr. Davidoff strode ahead and opened a door. We went up a ramp and found ourselves in an observation room overlooking an operating room. I looked down at the shining metal operating table and the trays of gleaming metal instruments, and I gripped the chair tighter.

A woman was in the room, off to the side of the observation window, so I could only make out a slender arm in a lab coat.

The door to the operating room opened, and a gray-haired woman entered. It was Sue, the nurse I’d met last time I was here. She wheeled a gurney. Simon lay on it, strapped down.

“No!” I flung myself against the restraints.

Dr. Davidoff chuckled. “I don’t even want to know what you think we have in mind, Chloe. We’re bringing Simon in to hook him up to an IV. Being diabetic, he’s easily dehydrated by vomiting. We don’t want to take any chances, not while that sedative is still upsetting his stomach.”

I said nothing, just stared down at Simon, my heart thumping.

“It’s a precaution, Chloe. And what you’re looking at is simply our medical room. Yes, it’s equipped for surgery, but only because it’s a multipurpose room.” He bent and whispered. “If you look closely, I bet you’ll see dust on those instruments.”

He winked, the genial uncle humoring the silly little girl, and I wanted to-I don’t know what I wanted to do, but something in my expression made him flinch and just for a second, that genial uncle vanished. I wasn’t the docile little Chloe he remembered. It would be safer if I was, but I couldn’t fake it anymore.

He straightened and cleared his throat. “Now, if you’ll look down there again, Chloe, I believe you’ll see someone else you recognize.”

I turned toward Simon, still lying on the gurney, pale as the sheet pulled over him. He was listening to the woman in the lab coat, but I could only see her from the back. She was slender, below average height, with blond hair. And it was that hair, the way it swung as she leaned over Simon, that made my breath catch.

Dr. Davidoff rapped on the window. The doctor looked up.

It was Aunt Lauren.

She shaded her eyes, like she couldn’t see anyone through the tinted glass. Then she turned back to Simon, talking as he nodded.

“Your aunt made a mistake,” Dr. Davidoff said. “You were so upset when we brought you here that she panicked. She was under a lot of stress and she made some bad decisions. She sees that now. We understand and we’ve forgiven her. She’s a welcome member of the team once again. As you can see, she’s back to work, happy and healthy, not chained in a dungeon or whatever horrible fate you’d imagined befalling her.”

He looked down at me. “We aren’t monsters, Chloe.”

“So where’s Rachelle?” Tori’s voice made me jump. Her chair was next to mine, but I’d forgotten she was here. “She’s up next on the happy-friends reunion tour, I suppose.”

When Dr. Davidoff said nothing, the sneer fell from Tori’s face.

“Wh-where’s Rae?” I asked. “Sh-she is here, right?”

“She’s been transferred,” he said.

“T-transferred?”

He forced a jovial note into his voice. “Yes. This laboratory is hardly the place for a sixteen-year-old girl to live. It was only temporary lodgings, which we would have explained if you’d stayed long enough to let us. Rachelle has been moved to-” He chuckled. “I won’t call it a group home because, I assure you, it’s a far cry from Lyle House. More like a boarding school. A very special boarding school, just for supernaturals.”