The Vanishing Girl (10 page)

My face fell, and I didn’t have the energy to hide my hurt. Caden’s brow furrowed and he cupped my chin. “I’ve spent all this time trying to figure you out, but you, I don’t think you’ve even tried figuring
me
out,” he said. “Otherwise it’d be obvious that I like you. I like you so much that it’s seriously starting to concern me.”

At his words I could feel my sadness and guilt ebbing, replaced by a wonderful kind of curiosity. In spite of myself I cracked a smile. He noticed my smile and leaned in and gave me a quick kiss. “So happy to see that smile again, princess.”

The kiss took me by surprise, and I grinned a little more after he pulled away. In spite of my dark mood, my stomach felt bubbly and light, like I could laugh for hours.

Caden eyed me. “Don’t think this,” he moved his hand between the two of us, “is over. Because whatever this is, it’s just beginning.”

Chapter 17

I slumped in
the guest chair I found myself in. Across the desk Dane Richards sat, hands folded, assessing me. I knew things were bad when he made a special visit to the facility and called me in for a late night meeting just to rip me a new one.

“What were you thinking?” he said.

My eyes lifted from the linoleum floor. Rather than looking at Richards, I focused my attention on one of the plaques hanging behind him. They had words like
honor
and
courage
written on them. I was starting to think that I had no idea what those words really meant.

“I was trying to use my skills as a distractor,” I said, my voice hoarse. It had been a day since the simulation, and I still felt as emotionally raw as when I’d been at the club. I’d messed up. Bad.

“Uh huh,” Richards said, appraising me with his eyes. “If I remember correctly, we don’t train our distractors to push their partner
while they are holding a loaded gun
.”

I didn’t respond, just stared first at Richards, then at the awards mounted on the wall behind him, my jaw clenching.

“You almost got several people killed.”

I rubbed my eyes, my face hot. My fingers came away wet with my tears. “I know,” I said.

“Your simulation was a travesty to our program, and frankly, I’m disappointed in you.”

I don’t know why that statement, amongst the rest, made me snap, but it did.

“Disappointed?” I asked looking up. “You’re the one who sent me uninformed and inexperienced into a simulation. How could that have possibly gone well?”

His face flushed, but his expression remained unchanged. “Your genetics were coded to handle high stress situations. Even inexperienced, you and Caden should’ve been able to successfully complete the simulation.”

“Okay, and that’s the other thing,” I said. “I thought these were simulations, not real missions.”

“Did you read the email sent out about the simulations?”

I hesitated. “Yes,” I finally said. I had read a paragraph of it.

“Then you should know that the simulations were heavily fortified missions. We had backup there to cover you and Caden, should anything go awry
—
which it did. You’re lucky they were there.

“You should’ve also received some information about the first simulation and what was expected of you,” he continued.

“You mean like hurting people?” I shot back at him.

He glanced down at a sheet of paper in front of him, his eyes moving across the page. “It says here you weren’t expected to
—
that’s why you weren’t equipped with a weapon
—
so no.”

He set the paper aside and leaned forward. “But don’t expect to keep that bleeding heart attitude of yours. This is what you’re being trained to do
—
protect national security no matter the cost. Sometimes that means resorting to violence. And no, you don’t get a choice
—
unless you’d like to risk thousands of American lives because you’re too squeamish to hurt one thug?”

I lifted my chin. “What if I just refuse to participate in any missions?”

Richards laid his hands flat on the desk and pushed himself out of his chair. He looked menacing. “You’re thinking of breaking your contract? Considering what you know about our government, how do you think that’s going to go?”

Not well.
I swallowed and stayed silent. Damn him.

“That’s what I thought. The truth is that you’re no longer just a civilian. You’re being trained as an asset
—
a spy. Your knowledge of classified information makes you both valuable and dangerous. If you decided to not cooperate, the consequences would be grave.”

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

He’s taunting me.
Silently he was daring me to cross the government. And he knew I wouldn’t. Why would I trade potential death during a mission for certain death or imprisonment if I challenged them?

I placed my hands in my lap where I could fist them without him seeing. “Understood,” I said, making sure that I kept my own expression neutral.

“Good.” He straightened up the papers in front of him. “You are to visit Debbie this week to be debriefed. I hope this doesn’t happen again. You are free to go.”

I stood to leave, but I had to ask him one last question. “Why are you sending any untrained teleporters on missions?”

The skin around his eyes tightened. He didn’t say it, but I could tell he didn’t like a young girl like me questioning his authority. “I already told you,” he said. “You are a weapon Ember. You were born to do this.”

I walked into
my room, exhausted and ready to crash for the night.

Caden lounged in a chair next to my bed, looking way too comfortable and flipping through a romance novel my parents had packed in my suitcase.

“When did you get here?”

He held up my book, his thumb marking the page he was on, and ignored my question. “I still don’t understand why people go for these things.” He brought the novel back down to him. “I mean listen to this line: ‘He took me under the waterfall. His throbbing co
—
’”

I felt my cheeks flush. “Caden, what are you doing in my room?”

Before he could respond, he vanished, and the novel fell onto the now-empty seat.

Caden hadn’t walked over to my room. He’d teleported here. Which meant that, right at this moment, I could find him asleep on his bed.

I picked up the book and placed it on my nightstand, still embarrassed that he now knew some of the smut I read. I then changed into my pajamas, clicked off my light, and slid into bed.

As I waited for sleep, a grin began to spread along my face. Caden may have discovered my smutty reading material, but I’d also discovered something myself. Before Caden had fallen asleep, I knew the last thing he’d been thinking of.

Me.

I stretched my
arms and looked around. I was back in the dusty office and back in the same Big Brother T-shirt. I checked my pockets and found another tiny flashlight and a note.

Same key. Second drawer from the top.

Had the government
sent me to this office again? And if so, why would they want me to snoop around in here?

I rubbed my eyes with my thumb and index finger. All this espionage was getting to me. If I wanted to keep my sanity, I’d have to not question what was going on.

At my feet rested the tiny metal key. During my last visit I had vanished before I had time to reattach it to the bottom of the desk. The drawer I’d previously flipped through still hung open, its files gaping out. I slid it closed and picked up the key.

I inserted the key into the lock fixed on second drawer, turned it, and pulled the drawer out.

I clicked on the flashlight and shined it in. This drawer contained several files, but nowhere near as many as the one I’d looked through last time. I pulled out a manila folder with the name
Claire Dunning
written along the tab and flipped it open.

Name
: Claire Dunning

Age
: 18

Sex
: Female

Status
: Paired

Pair
: Matthew Simmons

Next to these someone had paper-clipped a photo. A sweet, sun-kissed teenager smiled at the camera. But it wasn’t her happy expression that made me drop my flashlight. It was her rounded stomach.

Claire was pregnant.

Why had the
facility filed information on a pregnant teleporter? Why did they care?

But I already knew the answer to those questions. If Claire was anything like me, scientists would likely be interested in how successfully she could reproduce. And how the child turned out. The thought disgusted me.

I flipped through the following pages and found out Claire’s pair was the child’s father. The file was last updated when Claire was thirty-five weeks pregnant. I did the math
—
that was roughly around eight months into the pregnancy.

The file said nothing about whether Claire or her baby had made it. The final entry was dated over a year ago.

I studied her photo again.

A morbid thought came to mind. I slid the file back in the drawer and moved down to the drawer filled with deceased teleporters.

My hand shook as I pulled out another file with the same name. Claire Dunning.

I now knew why they hadn’t updated Claire’s file. They hadn’t needed to. Both Claire and her child were dead.

I could taste
bile at the back of my throat, but I willed myself not to vomit. According to the file, she hadn’t been on a mission, she’d just teleported into a dangerous situation and left injured.

I knew from personal experience that my injuries tended to stitch themselves back up after I teleported
—
the healing process sped up. But it seemed that the more extensive the injury, the harder it was for the body to appropriately piece itself back together.

I flipped through the folder, thankful at least that this one hadn’t included any gruesome images. I couldn’t have handled that. I closed the file and jammed it back in with the others.

Claire’s file had mentioned that she had a pair
—
Matthew Simmons. I scoured the folders in the third drawer to see whether he was still living or not. If he was, I might be able to ask him some questions about the project.

Unfortunately, I found his file. He’d died shortly after he turned nineteen, about three months ago. Again, splicing.

I only had minutes left before I’d be sent back, but I wanted to see a few more files in the second drawer. A grabbed another manila file and opened it without checking the name.

This time when I glanced at the paper-clipped image, I did a double take. A headshot of Desiree smiled up at me.

Name
: Desiree Payne

Age
: 16

Sex
: Female

Status
: Single

Pair
: Charles Schwartz (deceased)

I skimmed over the rest of the notes on the first page until a word caught my eye. Pregnant. My eyebrows shot up.

Desiree had been pregnant?

I glanced at the other files in the second drawer. A series of female names decorated the tabs of each folder. As far as I could tell, no male teleporters had files in here. And I bet if I looked into each folder, I’d find the same word
—
pregnant. This drawer was dedicated to expectant teleporters.

I took a deep breath and flipped through the pages. The father of Desiree’s unborn child was unknown
—
either because she didn’t know or she wouldn’t say. But it wasn’t her pair; that I could tell. The entries ended at eight weeks into her pregnancy. I scanned the notes, and two sentences caught my eye.

Patient miscarried. Child’s genetics seem to be incompatible with mother’s ability to teleport.

Despite my dislike for her, my heart clenched. She was right to have a chip on her shoulder. She’d had to grow up too fast.

And then my skin felt clammy.

Could Caden be the father?

“
Rise and shine
, princess. Time to train.” I groaned and opened my eyes. Caden leaned over my bed, looking way too awake, as usual. Outside the sky was a deep purple, which meant it was some ungodly hour.

I rubbed my eyes and sat up, making sure my blanket covered my naked body. Not that it mattered at this point. “I thought we agreed that you wouldn’t keep barging into my room,” I said.

“And yet you keep forgetting to lock the door.”

“That’s not an excuse,” I mumbled. I gazed absentmindedly around the room. Then last night’s excursion rushed back to me.

I swiveled my head to face him, now hyper alert. “Did you get Desiree pregnant?” I asked, watching his expression.

Caden’s face lost all its humor; his expression hardened. “How do you know that information?”

“Oh God.” I looked away from him and scrubbed my face with a hand. “You were the father.”

“Whoa, backup,” he said, getting onto the bed. “I was definitely
not
the father. I’ve never been even slightly romantic with Desiree. She’s like a sister to me.”

My eyebrows shot up. “She makes it seem as though you two have some sort of history.”

Caden scooted himself next to me so that he could lean back against the headboard. I pulled my bed sheet closer to my naked skin. Not that there was anything there that he hadn’t already seen a few times over. “We’ve been friends for years
—
we were some of the youngest teleporters to arrive at the facility. Desiree, because her parents work here, and me because …” his expression darkened, “well, that’s a different story.”

The way he avoided his past made me suddenly want to know everything about it. But he clearly wasn’t ready to tell me, so I wouldn’t ask.

“We’ve had each other’s back for years,” Caden continued, “and when Desiree’s pair died about three years ago, she changed. She ran from her pain, usually into the arms of some good-for-nothing guy.”

Caden’s eyes got a faraway look to them. “She didn’t tell me she was pregnant until she lost the baby. At first I thought the miscarriage was a good thing
—
she was young and irresponsible after all. But the way she acted … it was like her pair had died all over again.

“That’s when I realized she wanted someone to love her unconditionally. The way her pair had before he died. I think she thought a baby would give her that.”

Caden shook his head. “Once I figured her out, I stepped it up as a friend. I was there for her like she needed someone to be. She might’ve wanted more than just friendship, but I never felt that way about her.”

Everything about the way Desiree acted began to make sense, and it was hard not to feel bad for her situation. She’d lost two people at such a young age. And now she went from having a close friend who she thought she might eventually date, to watching that same friend redirect his attention towards another girl
—
me. I’m sure the fact that Caden and I were a pair didn’t help.

At the thought of pairs, I remembered Claire from the file. Unlike Desiree, she hadn’t lost her baby. The baby had only died because Claire had.

Suddenly the taste of bile was back. I pushed the covers aside and ran for the bathroom.

“Ember?” he called after me.

I lifted the toilet seat and heaved.

I knew why Claire’s baby made it while Desiree’s didn’t. The father of Claire’s child was her pair. We’d been paired for breeding.