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Page 6
He took his time settling into a chair. Sweat trickled down the back of my neck, like a kid singled out in front of the class.
“We appreciate the help you’ve given us to try finding Simon, Chloe. We’re very worried, as you girls know.”
“Sure,” Rae said. “He needs that medicine. If I had any idea where to find him, I’d tell—”
She stopped and looked at me. Tori did the same, and I understood why I wasn’t getting this lecture in private.
“I gave you that list of places,” I said quickly. “That’s all I have.”
“They weren’t there, Chloe,” Dr. Davidoff said. “So we’ve reconsidered your offer. We’d like to take you along on our search this afternoon.”
That crash I heard? The collision of clichés. One: never look a gift horse in the mouth. Two: if it sounds too good to be true, it probably is. I’d been lied to and misled often enough in the last few days that I wasn’t just questioning this horse’s dental health—I was examining him from nose to tail.
“You want me to go with you…”
“Yes, and, with luck, the boys will see you and come out. There’s just one problem.”
Oh, I was sure there were lots of problems with this scenario.
“The places you’ve given us don’t seem right,” he said. “The boys are clever, and their dad taught them well. They’d either choose a private spot or a very public one, and the possibilities you’ve provided are neither. We think there might be one you forgot to mention.” He paused, meeting my gaze. “If there isn’t, then we don’t see the point of taking you along.”
That second crash? The sound of the other shoe dropping. Dr. Davidoff knew why I wanted to go with them, and he’d decided to play my game. Did I dare play along?
“Come on, Chloe,” Rae whispered.
“You’d better not think you’re protecting them by keeping your mouth shut,” Tori said. “Simon’s sick, Chloe. If he dies, I hope he haunts you until—”
“That’s enough, Tori,” Dr. Davidoff said.
“I…might have another idea,” I said. Oh God, I’d better have another idea. As hard as I thought, though, I needed time to come up with something good, and I wasn’t going to get that time. So I stumbled through a lame story about Derek and me running through that factory yard, until we found a hiding spot. Maybe that’s where he meant for our rendezvous spot. Only it had been dark, and we’d run through so many buildings that I wasn’t sure exactly which one we’d hidden in, but I’d recognize it when I saw it.
Dr. Davidoff smiled, and I braced for him to call me on it, but he just said, “Then it’s a good thing you’re coming, isn’t it?”
“And me,” Tori said. “I’ve barely been out of my room since we got here, and I haven’t been outside since Chloe arrived at Lyle House. I want to go, too.”
“It isn’t a field trip,” Rae muttered.
“Your help, while appreciated, won’t be necessary,” Dr. Davidoff said.
“You think I want to help? Sure, I’ll look around, for Simon’s sake. But I need to go shopping.”
“Shopping?” Dr. Davidoff stared at her like he must have misheard. We all did.
“Do you know how long it’s been since I got new stuff? It’s spring, and everything I have is from last year.”
“The tragedy. Someone call Amnesty International.” Rae looked at Tori. “You’ll survive. I’m sure it all still fits you.”
“Which is more than we can say for your wardrobe. Like another wrap, Rachelle? You’ve only had two so far.”
Rae lifted her hand, fingers splayed at Tori. “Like third-degree burns, Queen Victoria? You’ve only had first-degree so far.”
“Girls, that’s enough. Victoria—”
“And when my mom locked me away at Lyle House, she made me a deal. If I got better, she’d buy me a new laptop. Best on the market.”
“Why?” Rae said. “So you can IM your friends faster?”
“No, so I can work on my entrance package for software design camp at MIT.”
Rae laughed, and Tori glared. She was serious. Tori the computer geek? I tried to picture it, but even my imagination wasn’t that good.
Tori turned to Dr. Davidoff. “Obviously I can’t get better, and my mother knew it when she made that promise. So she owes me a laptop.”
Dr. Davidoff frowned, as if trying to follow her logic. Then he shook his head. “All right, Victoria. We’ll order you—”
“I know what I need and I’ll pick it out myself.”
Dr. Davidoff stood. “As you wish. Tomorrow we’ll—”
“Today. And I want a spring wardrobe, too.”
“Fine. I’ll ask someone to take you—”
“You think I’m letting some middle-aged dweeb help me choose clothes? I’m going today so Chloe can give me a second opinion.”
“You want Chloe to help you shop?” Rae said.
“Well, I sure don’t want you, skater girl. Chloe may be a loser, but she’s a loser with money, and someone has taught her some small degree of fashion sense.”
“No, Victoria,” Dr. Davidoff said. “You are not going—”
She walked over to him, rose onto her tiptoes, and whispered in his ear. A look passed over his face, one part shock, two parts sheer terror.
“I see,” he said. “Yes, now that I think about it, perhaps you could help us find the boys.”
“I thought so.”
She sauntered back to her chair. Blackmail? Two weeks ago, I’d have been horrified. Today, I was impressed.
It’s a classic movie moment. Our hero, trapped in a jungle prison, plots and schemes until finally he breaks free…to find himself miles from civilization with no idea how to get home. Likewise, my ploy to “help” find Simon and Derek had paid off, and I had only the faintest notion of how to use the opportunity.
And Dr. Davidoff didn’t give me time to plot my next move. He called Sue and told the others to meet us at the front door. I asked for a pit stop at my room, to grab something warmer, but he said they’d do it for me. I had the foresight to specify which sweatshirt I wanted—Liz’s green Gap hoodie.
As Tori and I waited up front with Sue, I felt a now-familiar warm current tickling across the back of my neck.
“Leaving without saying good-bye?” the demi-demon whispered in my ear. “And leaving me trapped here, after all I’ve done for you?”
There was no menace in her voice, just a teasing lilt.
“I’m sorry,” I said automatically.
“An apology? My, my, such a polite child. No need to apologize. I didn’t expect you to free me now. You’ll be back when you’re ready, and when you are, I’ll be waiting.”
“Girls?” Dr. Davidoff said, striding toward us. “Our car is here.”
As we followed him out, that warm breeze ruffled my hair. “Good-bye, child. And do be careful, you and your little band of magic makers and monsters. Keep those lovely powers of yours in check. I’d hate for the apocalypse to start without me.”
Ten
WE RODE IN A minivan with Dr. Davidoff, Tori’s mom, and a driver I didn’t recognize—a blond security guy. Behind us, in another car, was Sue, a balding driver, and the dark-haired man who’d had the gun the night we’d escaped Lyle House.
There was a fourth person in that car: Aunt Lauren. I hadn’t seen her—I knew only because Dr. Davidoff said she would be. When he did, I’d scrambled into the van as fast as I could, so I wouldn’t see her come out.
How was I going to face Aunt Lauren? Even thinking about it made my stomach ache. I’d spent the last twenty-four hours trying hard not to think about her, about what she’d done.
My mom died when I was five. Aunt Lauren was her younger sister. In all the years of moving around with my dad, who was always away on business, leaving me with a succession of nannies and housekeepers, Aunt Lauren had been the one sure thing in my life. The person I could count on. So after I escaped, when I got hurt, and Rae and I were separated from the guys, we’d gone to her for help.
And Aunt Lauren took me back to Dr. Davidoff. If she’d thought she was sending her delusional niece back to the nice folks who could help her, then as angry and hurt as I’d have been, I’d have understood. But Aunt Lauren hadn’t been tricked by these people. She was one of them.
She’d put me—or my mom, I guess—in their experiment. She’d let them kill Brady and Liz and the other girl, had maybe even helped them do it. And now, knowing all this, I had to face her and pretend it was okay.
The minivan had a middle seat that could turn around, and that’s where Tori’s mom sat. For the first part of the trip, she read her Wall Street Journal, gaze lifting now and then to be sure we hadn’t vanished. Tori and I rode, staring out our respective side windows, as if they weren’t too darkly tinted for us to see more than shapes outside.
There’d been no chance to grab my backpack. Even Tori hadn’t been allowed to bring her purse, as much as she’d argued. At least I had money. I’d arrived at Lyle House with my wad of twenties and my bank card stuffed in my shoe, and they were still there. I wore jeans, a long-sleeved shirt, and sneakers. A change of underwear and socks would have been nice, but right now, my bigger concern was how thin my shirt was.
“Dr. Davidoff?” I leaned as far as my seat belt would allow. “Did you get that sweatshirt for me?”
“Oh, yes. And you’ll need it. It’s chilly out. Diane? Could you pass this to Chloe?”
When I saw the green hoodie coming over the seat, I let out a sigh of relief.
“Isn’t that Liz’s?” Tori said.
“I don’t think so.”
“No?” She snatched it from me and read the tag. “Since when do you wear a ladies’ medium? I bet you aren’t even out of the kid’s department yet.”
“Very funny. Yes, I usually wear a small—”
“Extrasmall.”
“But I like my sweatshirts big, okay?”
“You think I’m stupid? This is the same hoodie I borrowed from Liz—the one you came into my room and asked about the other day.”
Tori’s mom lowered her newspaper.
“I—I thought Liz might want it back. Rae mentioned that you still had it so—”
“So you appointed yourself keeper of my friend’s stuff?”
Tori’s mom folded the paper onto her lap, her long red finger nails ironing the crease. “Is that Liz’s sweatshirt, Chloe?”
“M-maybe. When we left Lyle House, I grabbed clothes in the dark. I have one that looks like it. I’ll wear it today, then give it to you, so you can get it to Liz.”
“You better.” Tori started handing it back to me.
Her mother plucked it from Tori’s fingers and folded it onto her lap. “I’ll see that Liz gets it.”
“C-can I wear it today? Dr. Davidoff said it’s c-cold—”
“You’ll be fine.”
Tori rolled her eyes. “It’s no big deal, Mom. Just give it to her.”
“I said, no. What part of that isn’t clear, Victoria?”
Tori grumbled under her breath and turned back to her window.
Her mom looked at me, her expression unreadable. “I’m sure you’ll be just fine without it.”
When the driver dropped us off on the street behind the factory complex, my teeth were chattering, and not just from the cold. Tori’s mom knew why I’d had that sweatshirt—and that I had realized Liz was dead. Why else would a necromancer make a point of getting a personal article from her?
First Dr. Davidoff, now Tori’s mom. Did anyone not see through my schemes?
Maybe one person. The one who might still see me as sweet little Chloe. The one who thought I hadn’t really meant to run away from Lyle House but just got caught up in the plots of those boys.
“Aunt Lauren?”
I walked over as she got out of the car with Sue. I felt like I was looking at a stranger who’d taken my aunt’s form.
“You’re freezing.” She rubbed my arms, being careful with the injured one. “Where’s your coat?”
I saw Tori’s mom watching. If I tattled to Aunt Lauren, she’d tell her why I wanted Liz’s hoodie.
“I forgot it. It was warmer last week.”
She looked around. “Does anyone have an extra—?”
The dark-haired man from Saturday night climbed from the front seat and held out a nylon jacket.
“Thanks, Mike,” Aunt Lauren said, and helped me into it.
The sleeves dangled six inches past my fingertips. I rolled them up, hoping the extra folds would keep me warmer, but the jacket was so thin it didn’t even seem to stop the wind.
“Do you have the insulin?” I asked.
“I do, hon. Don’t worry.”
As the group prepared for the search, I stayed close to Aunt Lauren. She liked that, and kept her arm around me, rubbing my shoulder, as if to keep me warm. I gritted my teeth and let her.
“Now, Chloe,” Dr. Davidoff said when everyone was ready, “tell us where to look.”
The real rendezvous point was the warehouse nearest the factory. So the goal was to keep them as far from that as possible, in case the guys decided now was a good time to check in.
“We started in the warehouse where you guys tracked us and I did this—” I lifted my injured arm.