Toxic (Denazen #2)(55)

Another time, she turned on the outside hose and tried to use the water inside to control it, breaking four windows and smashing in the side of her mom’s car. The decline in her mental facilities was apparent at the end.

The experiments got stranger and less thought out. In one, she filled her dresser drawers with water. When it leaked out, she tried using her ability to put it back in, becoming frustrated when it leaked out again. Her last noted experiment detailed how she’d gone to Memorial Park after dark and tried to remove the water from the pond.

The more I read, the less sense the pages made. Layne became more paranoid. As far as I could tell, she’d never even been officially contacted by Denazen.

Early the next morning, I abandoned Kale’s room in favor of food. I’d dozed for a few hours here and there, but nothing much. Things inside my head were churning and wouldn’t allow for peace. The nausea seemed to have let up, and having not eaten anything substantial in the last few days, I was feeling peckish.

I pulled my hoodie tight around my shoulders and sank into the kitchen chair to try and get a bowl of cereal down. I’d been starving when I started, but after a few bites, the sugary puffs in the bowl were unappetizing and tasted stale. I shoved it to the side and eyed the diary, then the door. Twice Jade had poked her head in to see if Kale was there. If she did it again, there was a good chance I’d try to strangle her.

Kale was still out like a light, and I was getting fidgety. The diary left me a little confused. Wasn’t Denazen supposed to be raising these kids to believe in their glorified bullshit? From what I’d read, Layne Phillips seemed to have no idea who they were or what they were about. She did, however, know about Supremacy. That kind of stumped me till I’d gotten to the end of the journal. Three weeks before her birthday, she started having nightmares. A man appeared, telling her she was destined for great things. He told her all about the Supremacy project and that she’d been chosen. The poor girl had been convinced she was headed for the happy house.

“Hey.”

I pushed the diary aside and looked up. Kale was standing in the doorway, hair mussed and eyes bleary. For someone who’d gotten a lot of sleep, he looked beat.

“Hey, yourself.” I stood. “How do you feel?”

He stepped into the room, rubbing his head. “Fuzzy. Like I hit my head. Did I hit my head?”

I smiled and held out the uneaten bowl of cereal. Kale took it. “It’s the drug they use on the dart. It’ll go away. Promise.”

He took a bite and made a face. Not enough sugar. Kale was the only person on earth I’d ever met to use more sugar than me. He poured it over everything. I’d even caught him sprinkling it on toast a few weeks back. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

He pushed the bowl away and leaned forward. “You’re holding your shoulder.”

Crap. The pain was pretty much a constant now. The temperature shifts still came and went, but they’d subsided in frequency and strength. I wanted to feel good about this—hoping it proved Dad was lying, and I was getting better without help. “Oh. Yeah, slept wrong. Spent the night in the lounge chair in your room.”

For a second I was sure he’d call bullshit, but he nodded. “Did you find anything in the book?”

I snorted and grabbed it from the table. “Nothing useful.” Waving it back and forth, I smiled. It was Sunday. I was feeling crappy. Some Kale time might make things better. It technically couldn’t be kissy Kale time, but anything was better than nothing. I’d been thinking about it last night, and I’d finally worked up the guts to tell him what was going on. I wanted to do it before I lost my nerve. “Let’s sneak out and hit the hiking trails behind the hotel. I’m restless and could totally go for blowing off some steam. We can talk…”

He didn’t answer right away. When he did, it was with a frown. “I’m meeting Jade in a few minutes.”

“Meeting Jade?” I couldn’t stop my voice from rising. It was a stupid question, I already knew, but I asked, anyway. “What the hell are you meeting her for?”

“Ginger wants us to put in more hours of practice.”

“Of course she does,” I said. “Ya know, for someone who swears she won’t interfere in people’s lives, it looks like she’s doing enough of it from where I’m standing.”

“Am I interrupting something?” Jade appeared in the doorway looking like a teenage boy’s dream. Tight denim skirt, strappy sandals, and a top that looked like it belonged on a kindergartener. Someone hadn’t checked the weather outside.

“You’re always interrupting something,” I mumbled. Stepping up to Kale, I said, “Good luck with practice. Come see me after?”

He smiled. “You know I will.”

I wrapped my arms around his shoulder and pulled him close. He was watching me with a mix of hunger and fear. He knew what I was about to do. Part of him wanted it, and part of him was afraid. I knew, because it was exactly how I felt.

The instant our lips touched, I felt a sting. It started small—nothing more than a funky pins-and-needles numbness—but with each second I didn’t pull away, it grew sharper and harder to ignore. After a few seconds, his arms wound around my waist, fingers digging in to draw me closer.

I hoped Jade was getting this. Getting that she’d never be getting this.