Red Handed (10 page)

“Sit, both of you.” Even issuing orders in the middle of the night, Mia was still as pretty as a ballerina. Her hair gleamed darkly in the light, like black silk. Her face was smooth, her eyes bright. Did the woman not need to sleep?

Both Kitten and I sat on the floor, right where we were. I sent my gaze throughout the room. It was like every classroom I'd ever been inside and that surprised me. I guess I'd expected guns and knives to be hanging on the walls. A mat for fighting, maybe. Not math equations projected from holoscreens. Not desks and chairs.

“At a desk, girls,” Mia said with a roll of her eyes.

Kitten and I scurried to the desks at the head of the class and sat like good little frightened robots.

“Now, then. Welcome to orientation.” Mia sounded calm and emotionless once again. She locked her hands behind her back. “I bet you're wondering why you were called out of bed this early in the morning on your first day here.” She paced in front of us.

I nodded. Kitten did, as well. Neither one of us spoke. It wasn't that I was intimidated by Mia—okay, I was—but because I was awed by her. She was fluid and graceful, lithe, as she moved. What's more, she was lethal in a way I hadn't realized before. Every few seconds, she dropped her hands to her side and fingered the hilt of a blade strapped to her waist.

“You're here at this hour because most A.I.R. agents work at night. Yes, some work during the day, just like cops, because law is needed even in the daylight. But our sun is too strong and too damaging for a lot of otherworlders, so most crimes happen at night. You need to learn to embrace this hour.”

I nodded again, even though a part of me wanted to leave the room. Sure I was fascinated by what she was saying—I hadn't known aliens were sensitive to our sunlight—but I resented being taught this way, as if we needed permission to take our next breath.

Kindness wouldn't have killed her.

“While your regular classes will begin later today, you will first watch videos of alien crimes. You will watch how A.I.R. agents successfully—and at times, unsuccessfully—hunted and fought their targets. Watch closely. Learn.”

“Have you killed?” I asked, finding my voice.

She nodded without hesitation. “Many times.”

“Do you regret it?”

Again, she didn't hesitate. “I don't regret a single action I've taken. It will be best for you if you come to terms with what you must do now rather than later. Emotions will weaken you. They will distract you.” She shoved back the sleeve of her shirt, revealing the length of her arm.

The first thing I noticed was a tattoo of the Grim Reaper's scythe. It stretched across her arm from wrist to elbow, a black talisman. The second thing I noticed was the long, puckered scar that slashed beside it.

“Ooohh,” Kitten breathed.

“Predatory other-worlders,” Mia said, “will not hesitate to kill you. Or your family. Do not hesitate to kill them first.” She dropped the sleeve and lifted a remote from the granite counter behind her, then pressed a button. Images began flashing over the far holoscreen.

Violent images. Bloody images. People fighting creatures I'd never seen before, in ways I'd never seen before. My mouth dropped open. It was a lethal dance of blades and guns and fists. Of teeth and claws and fury.

Of crimson blood, of black blood.

A couple of times I heard Kitten gasp. I glanced over at her, if only to escape the screen for a moment. Her face was pale. She'd been so happy at the prospect of fighting only a few hours earlier. Probably before she realized that death would come of it. Maybe hers.

I wasn't horrified like I probably should have been. Scared, yeah. That, I had in spades. Who wouldn't, with new knowledge of alien powers—mind control, walking through walls, teleporting. Not to mention the guns and knives, claws and teeth.

Like I'd told Ryan, I was willing to do anything to protect my mom from these
things
. I wanted, finally, to be a girl she could be proud of. I wanted to make up for all the times I'd told her that her job as a waitress was meaningless and that what she did for me wasn't enough. I'd only ever caused havoc and emotional pain to those around me. If I decided to see this A.I.R. thing through, could finally change that. Excitement bubbled inside me at the thought. For once, I could be a hero.

Doubts, though, were excitement crushers. What if I was one of the ones kicked out after the first month? No one but Mia had wanted me in the first place. I mean, really. Should I put all my energy into something that would most likely be taken from me?

I just didn't know.

Suddenly the woman named Siren, the one with the sweet voice, came onto the screen, capturing my full attention. She walked toward a group of other-worlders, humming under her breath as if she hadn't a care. The pale-skinned, pale-haired creatures were smiling as if they were entranced. When she reached them, she went silent, jumped up, higher and faster than I'd ever seen anyone move, and she attacked with a single knife.

They were dead in seconds.

Then Mia's beautiful face came onto the screen. It was night and she stalked toward a giant, muscled man with yellow scales instead of skin. He did not have a nose.
Ah, an Ell Rollis
, I thought, recalling the description Kitten had given me. The Outer had a little boy by the throat and was squeezing. The boy was flailing.

Mia approached them silently. When she reached them, she raised a knife. It glinted silver in the moonlight. Without a word, she reached around the monster and slit its throat. Just like that. One minute he was alive, the next he wasn't.

Kitten gasped again as the giant tumbled to a bloody heap, releasing the boy along the way. I never got to find out what happened to that little boy because the screen went blank.

Real-life Mia stepped in front of the screen. For a long while, she didn't speak. She regarded us intently, studying. Then, slicing through the silence as deftly as she'd sliced the alien, she said, “Think you can handle this life?”

Could I?

Kitten gave an uncertain nod.

“Yes,” I said, suddenly knowing it beyond any doubt. I could. The real question was, would A.I.R. let me?

We spent two more hours in orientation, going through some tests to determine if we had the smarts to graduate high school early or needed more classes and exactly what level of instruction we'd require. Of course, we weren't told our grade. We had to wait for that.

Afterward, Mia escorted us to our next class. The room was an exact replica of the other—except this one had other girls inside. My nervous system kicked into gear, as if it was the first day of high school all over again. Would they like me? Would they instantly hate me? How long had they been a part of the school?

Would I cause my brain to bleed by asking myself too many questions?

“Everyone, I need your attention. I'd like you to meet Kitten.” Mia urged Kitten forward with an insistent push. “And this is Phoenix.” She shoved me forward, as well.

I stumbled to a stop and gave a little wave. “Hey.”

“Hey,” I heard from several of them. Some of my nervousness eased. Obviously they didn't plan to ignore me.

“This is Alien Anatomy 101,” Mia said. “Mishka Le'Ace will be your instructor. Everyone calls her Le'Ace.”

I didn't mean to, but I yawned. I was not used to lack of sleep.

Mia's eyes narrowed on me. “Am I boring you, Miss Germaine?”

My cheeks heated as everyone's attention focused on me. “No.”

“You're boring
me
,” a clipped voice said.

From the corner of my eye, I saw a woman step forward. I turned and faced her, immediately seeing it was the beauty from yesterday's interview, the one with the most exquisite, perfect features of any human I'd ever seen. Probably in the entire world.

“She's genetically altered,” Ryan had said.

Up close, her rich brown hair was glossier than I'd realized, her hazel eyes sparked with green, and her lips glistened with the perfect amount of gloss. Her skin was flawless. She wore a red dress suit, perfectly tailored to fit her perfect curves.

I wanted to hate her, but she looked too much like an angel.

Ryan had told me she was emotionless, born to kill anyone and anything when ordered. If I'd have met her on the streets, I never would have guessed. I would have thought she was a model or a businesswoman. Maybe that was why she was so good at her job. Who would expect her to render a death blow?

She probably walked up to her targets, smiled sweetly, and then killed them before they realized what was going on.

“Thank you, Miss Snow,” Le'Ace said in that formal voice of hers. She had a crisp accent I couldn't quite place. Russian, maybe. “I can take it from here.”

Mia strode out of the room.

I moved toward one of the empty desks, but Le'Ace stopped me. “Not yet, Phoenix. First, I have a test for you.”

Frowning, I froze in place. The new teacher was picking on me already, it seemed.

Kitten tried to move around me.

“Nope. You too, Kitten. Turn around and face the wall,” Le'Ace said, showing no mercy.

Several seconds passed, and we did nothing. Just remained in place. What kind of test was she going to give us that we needed to turn around and face the wall? Did she plan to whip us to see how much we could tolerate? Strike us from behind? Or was turning around the actual test? Maybe we were supposed to know that to turn our back to her was to give her power over us.

Damn, but this was confusing. I envisioned myself making the wrong choice and getting myself kicked out
today
.

“Turn. Around,” Le'Ace commanded sharply. Obviously she was not used to being disobeyed.

Apprehension and a little resentment slithered through me, to be treated like a child again. My jaw popped as I finally pivoted on my heel. Now was not the time to rebel. Kitten quickly followed suit.

“Good,” Le'Ace said. She walked to us, her red heels clicking against the tile. “You're going to tell me everything you remember about the room and its occupants. Every detail. Phoenix, you're first. Tell me about the girls.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. So, turning around hadn't been the test. I only had to—ah, crap. Did I even remember a single detail about the girls? I'd been so nervous, I hadn't really looked at them. “I don't remember.”

“You must remember something.” My back was to her, but I could feel the condemnation radiating from her. “Concentrate,” she barked, sounding like a military general. “Think.”

I closed my eyes and blanked my mind. Concentrating as she'd commanded, I replayed my entry, trying to soak in every detail. I saw…nothing.

“You will not have this long in the field,” Le'Ace said. “If this were a mission, you'd be dead by now.”

Several girls snickered. My cheeks heated for the second time.

“Tell me what you see,” she ordered.

Think. You have to remember something
. “There are eight girls sitting at the desks, and they're wearing white clothes. Just like me.” How was that for stating the obvious and trying to buy myself some time? “Two are black.”
Yes!
I thought with satisfaction. That was right, I knew it was.

Suddenly a picture of them formed in my mind, details I thought I'd overlooked as clear as if I was actually looking at them. “One of the girls is Asian. One, the one with white hair, has a tattoo on her face.” I was so proud of myself, I wanted to clap.

“And what is the tattoo?” came the unimpressed response.

My shoulders tensed as I focused on the girl in my mind. I mentally brushed away the white strands of hair shielding her cheek, revealing more and more of her face…the marking…“It's blue.” And it had sweeping…no. Wrong. What was that? “The edges are jagged but…I can't see it clearly,” I admitted.

“Yes, you can. Think harder.” Le'Ace patted me on the back and it was a surprisingly rough
thump, thump
. More strength than I would have deemed such a beauty capable of displaying.

My hands clenched at my sides, and I squeezed my eyelids as tight as I could. I pictured the white-haired girl again. Her desk was in the third row. Her hair was long and straight and—oh! She had blue streaks in her hair. Streaks that matched the color of the tattoo. I told Le'Ace.

“That's right,” she said, “but that's not what I wanted to know.”

Obviously the woman was a task master.
Concentrate!
Tattoo. Blue. Pointed ends. Three pointed ends, to be exact. My eyes blinked open as the answer slammed into me. “It's a trident,” I said, confident.

“Good. Slow, but good.” Le'Ace patted my back again, and this blow almost hammered me to the floor. She must not know her own strength. Or maybe she did and just didn't care. “Remember to study a room and its occupants every time you walk into someplace new.

Her approval warmed me, and I found myself grinning.

“Kitten,” she said, “it's your turn. Tell me about the room itself.”

I twisted so that I could see the girls I'd just spoken about. They were exactly as I'd pictured them, even though I'd only had a few glances. Pride filled me. In the past, I'd studied my surroundings to make sure there were no cops present so I could fly. This time, I'd done it for a good reason.

My teachers used to tell me I'd killed so many brain cells by doing Onadyn that I'd never be sharp, never be considered intelligent. Those comments had hurt, still hurt, actually, when I allowed myself to think of them. I liked to think they'd told me those things to make me stop doing drugs, not because they thought I was stupid.

“The walls are light brown,” Kitten began.

When she said no more, Le'Ace said, “Is that the only color?”

There was a long pause. I crossed my fingers behind my back.
You can do it, Kitten
.

“Yes?” Kitten said, though the word emerged as a question.

“Are you sure?”

“No. Yes. Yes, I'm sure.”

“Good. But do not let someone's question waver you and do not give an answer unless you are sure. Now, what else do you remember? You've had plenty of time to think about it.”

“There's a holoscreen above the center platform and the floor is made from silver tiles.”

“You can see the floor now,” Le'Ace said dryly. “That doesn't count. What about the desks? The chairs? How many are there?”

“I don't know,” Kitten replied, and her voice was tortured.

“Think.”

“I am!” she hissed.

“Think,” Le'Ace said in that still, crisp voice.

Another pause.

Kitten shrugged. “Twenty?”

Le'Ace pushed out a breath. “Wrong. Turn around and count. If these desks had been aliens, you would be dead.”

Seemed we'd be dead from a lot of things if this was the real world.

Kitten turned, and her cheeks were flushed a rosy red. “Twenty-one.” She stomped her foot. “I was close!”

“Close will not keep you alive. Close will send you to an early grave.”

Kitten's shoulders sagged. “I'll do better next time.”

“I hope so. Even if you had said twenty-one, you would have been guessing and that is simply not good enough. I told you not to guess. Details are important. Every detail. A single detail can save your life or destroy it. You must be aware of everything at all times.”

“Impossible,” I said. What she was saying was impossible. No way a person could input so many details so quickly.

“You had your fingers crossed at one point.” She arched a perfectly sculpted brow. “I know that but I wasn't looking at you.”

I pressed my lips together and tried not to be impressed.

“But you are,” she said as if she'd read my mind. Maybe she had. Was that possible? I gulped. More and more I was learning just how little I knew about the world and its inhabitants. “Have a seat, girls. Take a few minutes to meet the others.”

“But she's an alien,” a blonde said, pointing to Kitten. “I don't want to get to know her.”

Kitten hissed.

Le'Ace frowned. “She's nonpredatory. You'll treat her as you treat the other students or you'll return home. Understand? If you don't, you can go to your room and pack your bags right now.”

Everyone nodded, which saved them from my wrath. Right now, Kitten was my only friend. I was feeling a little protective of her.

I walked to the seat in back, between the tattooed blonde and the lovely Asian girl.

“Hey,” the Asian said.

“Hey,” I replied.

Tattoo turned away from me, giving me her profile. Asian leaned toward me and whispered loud enough for everyone to hear, “I'm Cara. Pay no attention to Emma, the bitch beside you. She hates everyone.”

Emma didn't respond to the jab.

“I'm Johanna,” one of the blond girls said, the one who had spoken against Kitten. “I saw you enter the Common yesterday. You don't look as nervous today.”

“Well, I've since read that oh so comforting manual,” I said dryly.

All the girls laughed. Except for Emma, whose gaze remained straight ahead. Still, I found myself relaxing. For the most part, they seemed to like me. How long would that last?

“Hey, Phoenix,” Kitten called. She'd taken an open seat up front. “This is Dani, Lindsay, and Jenn.” She motioned to a pretty blonde, a redhead, and the second black girl.

The girls smiled at me, and I returned the greeting.

“
They're
nice,” Kitten added with a pointed look at Johanna.

“Hey, I'm nice,” Johanna said. “Your heritage just caught me off guard, okay? We're supposed to kill Outers, not befriend them.”

“Not all aliens are bad,” Kitten growled.

Johanna held up her hands, palms out. “I believe you, all right? God. Give me a freaking break. I haven't slept in, like, a week.”

“Why don't you two start over?” I suggested.

Both nodded reluctantly. I introduced Kitten to the girls I'd met, and they exchanged greetings.

“All right,” Le'Ace said. She stood at the head of the class, her arms anchored behind her back. “Now that everyone knows everyone else, let's get started.”

Was it bad that I already wanted a break?

“This is Alien Anatomy 101. I will teach you everything A.I.R. knows about aliens and their bodies. As a bonus, I will teach you about their powers, their abilities, and their weaknesses. Some we know for sure, some are just guesses.” She leaned her hip against the metal counter. “What you learn in here needs to be applied in all of your weapons and combat classes.”

I settled more comfortably into my seat and cast another glance at Kitten. She was listening raptly, as if the world could be conquered with Le'Ace's words alone. Maybe it could. Kitten was also licking her hand and purring. Weird, but cute.