Awakening (22 page)

W
E FOUND THE TRUCK—an old SUV—hidden behind a neighboring barn. The door was open. A piece of metal had been jammed into the ignition to hotwire it. Simon was checking that out, trying to see if he could start it up, when three people ran from the woods: Derek, Andrew, and Tori.

Simon and I flung open the front doors and climbed into the back. Derek took the passenger seat. Tori sat on my other side in the rear.

“That was a quick rescue,” Simon said as Andrew started the truck.

“No rescue required,” Tori said. “I can take care of myself.”

Derek muttered something about remembering that the next time he risked his life to help her.

As Andrew got the truck moving, I asked Tori what happened. She’d been taken captive and held under guard as the others searched. At first, she’d had two guards, but when things started going wrong they’d left her with only a single guard.

“One handy binding spell later? They lost their only remaining prisoner.”

“You think they’d have taken your spells into account,” Derek said.

“Well, they underestimated me,” she said.

Derek grunted. Simon started asking something, but Andrew shushed us while he drove the truck over a rough field. He kept the lights off and rolled along slowly.

Simon shifted beside me, getting comfortable in the cramped backseat. His hand brushed my leg, then found my hand and took it. When he smiled over at me, I smiled back.

I expected him to give his usual reassuring squeeze and let go. Instead he seemed to take my smile as a sign of encouragement and entwined his fingers with mine and rested them on my thigh. As tired as I was—my brain reeling with questions, adrenaline still pumping—a little buzz passed through me. Silly, I guess. Making a big deal out of holding hands? So fifth grade.

I was sure, for Simon, it
was
no big deal. While he wasn’t the first guy to hold my hand, let’s just say my experience with boys didn’t go further than that.

The buzz passed quickly, though, as we reached the road and Andrew turned on the headlights. He asked if we were all okay, and the first thing out of my mouth was, “Was my Aunt Lauren with you?”

His eyes met mine in the rearview mirror as he frowned.

“Lauren Fellows. She works for—”

“I know your aunt, Chloe, but, no, she wasn’t there.”

“Chloe thought she saw her,” Derek said.

Simon twisted to face me. “What?”

“I—I saw someone. It sounded like her and it kind of looked like her, from what I could see in the dark….”

“Did
you
see her?” Simon asked Derek.

“He didn’t,” I said. “And he should have, because she ran right past him.”

“You saw a ghost,” Tori said. “And you think it was your aunt.”

“More likely a spell,” Derek said. “They have stuff like that, right, Andrew?”

“Absolutely. Glamour spells and other illusions. If you didn’t get a good look, that’s probably intentional—whoever cast it didn’t want you studying the illusion too closely.”

That made sense, but I still couldn’t shake the gut feeling that I
had
seen her. Not Aunt Lauren but her ghost.

Simon leaned into my ear and murmured reassurances, saying they wouldn’t kill Aunt Lauren—she was too valuable.

“How’s your arm?” Derek asked when I stayed quiet too long, lost in my worries.

“Did you pull your stitches?” Simon asked.

“No,” Derek said. “A bullet grazed it.”

“A
bullet
?”

Andrew steered to the curb and hit the brakes. “You were shot?”

“No, no. It’s just a scratch.”

Andrew hesitated, but I assured him—and Simon—that I was fine, and Derek confirmed that the bullet had only just passed through my shirt, grazing me.

Andrew turned back onto the road. “We’ll get it cleaned up when we stop. I can’t believe they…” He shook his head.

“Hey, I skinned my palm,” Tori said. “Ground it up pretty bad.”

“You need to check Chloe’s stitches, too,” Derek said. “She got cut with glass a few days ago. They fixed her up, but it should be looked at.”

Tori waved her injured palm. “Anyone? Anyone?” She rolled her eyes. “Guess not.”

“It looks sore,” I said. “We should get some iodine on it.”

She gave a wan smile. “I can always count on you, can’t I? Guess I know who sent the cavalry back to rescue me.”

“But you said you didn’t need rescue, remember?” Simon said.

“It’s the thought that counts.”

“We wouldn’t have left you there, Victoria.” Andrew glanced back at her. “Tori, is it?”

She nodded.

He smiled at her. “It’s good to see you and Simon together.”

“Whoa, no,” Simon said. “We’re
not
together.”

Tori agreed, just as emphatically.

“No, I meant—” Through the mirror, Andrew’s gaze went from Simon to Tori. “I, uh, meant all four of you. I’m glad to see you together. That’s one thing Kit and I agreed on, that the group was wrong to keep the subjects separated.”

“So you worked for them, too?” I asked. “The Edison Group?”

Simon nodded. “He got out just before our dad.” He looked at Andrew. “That’s how they knew where to find you, isn’t it? When we escaped, they figured we’d come here, so they grabbed you to use as bait.”

“That seems to have been their plan. And, anyway, it was a good excuse for picking me up, something they’ve wanted to do for years.”

“How come?” Tori asked.

“We’ll talk about that later. First, let’s find something to eat while you guys tell me what’s been going on.”

The only place we found open was a fast-food drive-thru in the next town. I wasn’t hungry, but Simon insisted on getting me a milkshake and I sipped it as he explained to Andrew what had happened with us—Lyle House, our escape, the compound, the experiment, the deaths of Liz and Brady and Amber….

“Rachelle is still there,” Simon said as he finished. “Chloe’s aunt, too, who’s obviously their hostage now, like you were.”

“Unless she’s—” Tori began.

Simon’s glare shut her up. “She’s fine. But we need to get them and our dad out. Chloe’s aunt doesn’t think he was taken by them, but he must have been.”

“I’d have to agree,” Andrew said. “Nothing in my own searches has suggested any other explanation.”

Derek looked over sharply. “You’ve been looking for him?”

“For all of you.”

We drove for almost an hour and passed through only one big town. We were getting farther and farther from New York City. Finally, Andrew turned into a private drive even longer and more winding than his own.

“Where are we? A safe house for supernaturals?” Simon nudged me. “Like something out of a movie, huh?”

“Well, it certainly has played that role before, for supernaturals on the run from Cabals,” Andrew said.

“Cabals?” Tori said.

“A whole other situation. But this place really serves more as a hostel for visiting members of our group. It was owned by one of our first members—an ancestral estate that he willed to us for the cause.”

“What cause?” Tori asked.

“Monitoring and ultimately disbanding the Edison Group.” He slowed as the dirt lane turned rough. “Or that was our original goal. We started as a band of former Edison Group employees, defectors like me who were concerned about their actions. Not just the Genesis Two project—that
is
one of our main concerns, but the Edison Group goes far beyond that. Eventually, we were joined by others, who took issue not only with the Edison Group’s activities but with those of the Cabals and other supernatural organizations. Still, the Edison Group has remained our primary focus—monitoring their activities, conducting small acts of sabotage.”

“Sabotage?” Simon said. “Cool.”

“
Small
acts. Our main goal has been on monitoring, to the growing disgust of some of our members, myself included.”

“Was Dad involved?” Simon asked.

Andrew shook his head. “I suppose you know your dad and I had—”

“A falling-out.”

“Yes. And it was over this group. Your dad always stayed out of it. Too political for him. He’d been willing to help, but otherwise he didn’t participate. He thought it would call undue attention to you boys. But I was pressured by the others to bring him in. As the father of two subjects from the Edison Group’s most ambitious—and potentially dangerous—project, he’d be the perfect person to help attract powerful new members from the supernatural community. He was furious. All his work to keep you hidden, and now I wanted this. I’ll admit, I supported the idea. But I underestimated the danger you faced from the Edison Group. I see that now.”

He turned another corner, slowing more as the ruts in the road got deeper. “After your dad and you two disappeared, and we heard rumors the Edison Group had you boys, some of us began arguing for a more active stance. We were convinced you—and the other subjects—were in danger. Others with more influence insisted that the group wouldn’t hurt you.”

“Well, they were wrong,” Tori said.

“Yes, and with your story, we’ll have the proof we need to take action.”

We turned yet another corner and the house appeared. For a moment, all we could do was stare. It was like something out of a gothic novel—a huge rambling Victorian, three stories tall, surrounded by forest. If there were gargoyles up there, shrouded by darkness, I wouldn’t be surprised.

“Cool,” Simon said. “Now this is where supernaturals should live.”

Andrew chuckled. “And, for the next few days, it’s where
you’re
going to live. You can settle in here and rest while we make plans.” He glanced back at us as he parked. “But don’t get too comfortable. I’m about to ask the group to conduct a jailbreak at Edison Group headquarters, and it’s been a lot of years since any of us have been there. We’re going to need your help.”

I
WENT TO BED and I slept. I wasn’t sure I would, with the lingering excitement of the night, my fear over Aunt Lauren, my worries about the surrounding forest, filled with animal corpses waiting to be raised. But for the first time in weeks, we were safe, and that was all the encouragement my exhausted brain and body needed to shut down and bless me with deep, dreamless sleep.

I knew this wasn’t the end. Not by a long shot. Even the first step—persuading the rest of this group to go back—wouldn’t be as easy as Andrew hoped. And even when it was over, it wouldn’t truly be over. Not for me.

I was changed. Not just the genetic modification, but me—I was different. The very thought of going home to Dad and our condo and my school and friends made my brain reel. That life was gone now. Maybe I’d go back to it someday, but it would be like replacing an actor with someone who looked, sounded, and even behaved differently. I wouldn’t be the same person. I wasn’t even sure I could play the role.

My old life felt like a dream—a mostly pleasant, uneventful dream. Now I’d awakened from it and realized who I was and what I was, for better or worse. There was no closing my eyes and sliding back into that blissful dream of normal. This was my normal now.

I
MISSED THIS WITH the last book, so I have a bunch of folks to thank. First, to Sarah Heller, my agent and fairy godmother for this series, who took my wish of wanting to write for young adults and made it happen. To Rosemary Brosnan of HarperCollins, who worked with me for the first time on
The Summoning
. Working with a new editor can take some adjusting, but she made it a breeze from day one. Also a huge thanks to Maria Gomez of HarperCollins for introducing Rosemary to my books. Thanks, too, to editors Anne Collins of Random House Canada and Antonia Hodgson of Little, Brown UK, who have been with me from the start and are always willing to let me try something new. And thanks to Kristin Cochrane at Doubleday Canada for her support and hard work behind the scenes.

On this particular book, I had my first batch of Darkest Powers beta readers. Thanks to Sharon B, Terri Giesbrecht, Stephanie Scranton-Drum, Matt Sievers, and Nicole Tom, who read an early copy and helped me find errors that slipped past everyone else (apparently the shark in
Deep Blue Sea
was a Mako, not a Great White—whoops!).

KELLEY ARMSTRONG
is the
New York Times
bestselling author of the Women of the Otherworld series and the first book in the Darkest Powers series, THE SUMMONING, about which
Kirkus Reviews
said in a starred review: “Terrifying ghosts, smatterings of gore, and diverse teen voices will prompt young adults to pick up the next in this series.”

Kelley has been telling stories since before she could write. Her earliest written efforts were disastrous. If asked for a story about girls and dolls, hers would invariably feature undead girls and evil dolls, much to her teachers’ dismay. All efforts to make her produce “normal” stories failed. Today, she continues to spin tales of ghosts and demons and werewolves, while safely locked away in her basement writing-dungeon.

To find out more about the Darkest Powers series, visit www.chloesaunders.com.

Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins author.

Copyright

THE AWAKENING. Copyright © 2009 by KLA Fricke Inc. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

Microsoft Reader March 2009 ISBN 978-0-06-185784-3

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