Tremble (Denazen #3)(55)



Kale seemed vindicated by this answer, and nodded, “Can you make the dark ones go away?”

“No way, man. Like I said, someone else’s work. But I think they might fade on their own.” He nodded in my direction. “If the sound of her voice makes the real ones fight for dominance, I’d say just keep her talking. Think of her as your North Star. It looks like they’ll fight their way free eventually.”

Aubrey had been right. The daily meetings with Dad’s Six had been to maintain control over Kale. By keeping him away from her, we were slowly breaking the hold.



Kale crossed the room to Dax’s computer, then stopped, staring at the machine like he’d never seen it before. “I— What do— Where…” The CD clunked to the desktop, and Kale brought his hands to his head, fingers wrapping in his dark hair. “What is wrong with me? Why can’t I remember how to use this thing?”

I didn’t know what was on the disk, and that scared me. All I wanted right now was to curl up in oblivion and sleep till next spring, but Kale was antsy because of Aubrey’s claim for the truth. The minute we left the others, he asked about playing the disk. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t put it off.

Gently, I pulled his hands away and picked up the CD. “Because you’ve never used a computer, Kale. Your vocabulary is…different. You’ve spent time with Kiernan and the others so you’ve picked up some slang, but I guess they couldn’t imprint practical knowledge. You remember watery things about people and events, but this is different. You don’t remember because it’s something you’ve never done.”

I dropped the CD into the drive and gave the door a small nudge. It closed, the computer monitor blinking to life as the disk started spinning.

The moment the picture flickered to life, I knew we’d made a horrible mistake.

On the screen, Kale was chained to a wall in a small room. He wore black sweatpants and a dark gray T-shirt wet with perspiration. Weary eyes trained ahead, he stared at something off-camera with unadulterated hatred. Bruises decorated the right side of his face, and he was exhausted—it was evident in his half-lidded stare and slumped posture—but there was still a spark of fierceness to him. Determination.

To his right stood a man I’d never seen before. Wearing a white lab coat and standing impossibly tall, he had salt and pepper hair and cold, dead eyes. He motioned to someone off-camera, and a slip of a girl stepped into view. She stopped in front of Kale and cupped his face on either side. If not for the chains, it would have looked like a loving embrace. The softest touch of two people with deep feelings for each other.

Kale’s eyes met hers, and his lips moved, but whatever he said was too low for the microphone to catch. A smile followed and then his eyes squeezed closed, lip twitching and body going rigid. He tried to pull away, but the chains prevented him from moving out of reach.

“Tell me the name of the girl you love,” someone on the other side of the room, out of the camera’s eye, said in a commanding voice. I didn’t need to see him. That voice, so full of vile and lies, was embedded in my memory as sure as my own name.

Dad stepped forward, his back to the camera as Kale’s eyes opened. With a taunting smile and a sigh, he said, “Deznee.”

“You’re making things harder on yourself by fighting the process. Mindy tells me this can be quite painful.”

“Then I have nothing to fear. If there’s one thing you’ve taught me over the years, it’s to deal with pain. There’s nothing you can do that will take her away from me, Cross,” Kale said, voice low. “Nothing.”

Dad’s anger was evident in his stiffened shoulders and fists clenched tight. “Again,” he barked. “Do it again.”

I didn’t realize who he was talking to until the girl took Kale’s face in her hands again, this time with more force.

“What is the name of the girl you love?”

“Dez,” Kale spat, eyes still closed.

The girl’s fingers twitched, knotting through his hair.

“What is the name of the girl you love?” Dad asked, rage dripping from every word. I’d never wanted to physically harm anyone as much as I did him in that instant.

“Dez!” Kale screamed. A tremor ran through him, body trembling.

Mindy let go for an instant, eyes wide with surprise, but had him back in her hands in seconds. “He shouldn’t still know her,” she cried. “This is impossible—”

Dad kicked a small rolling cart to his right. It wobbled, toppling to the ground with a loud clatter as metal instruments—sharp-looking ones—spilled from its insides. “Again!” he screamed. “The name of the girl you love is…?”

The sound of Kale’s voice as he bellowed my name stole all the air from the room. The reason we were here, the possibility of someone walking through the door, all vanished as I fought with the picture on the screen in front of me. His voice broke, throat more than likely raw, as he screamed it. Over and over. DezDezDez. The force of it sent the girl backing away and made the man in the lab coat cringe.

Beside me, Kale’s eyes stayed glued to the screen. I made a move to remove the disk from the drive, but he grabbed my hand, fingers wrapping tight.

Onscreen, Dad and the man huddled in the corner with the girl, who had to be Mindy. Kale had slid down the wall. He would have fallen to his knees had the chains stretched that far. Instead he was hanging, the metal cuffs digging into his already battered skin and making me sick.

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