Your One & Only(32)

He lifted her from the floor. The smoke was thicker now, and the crashing sound of a ceiling caving in reached him from the hallway. His chest constricted. He couldn’t remember if he’d grabbed his inhaler before he left the cottage. It was too late to check his pockets.

Nyla stirred in his arms. At least she was still alive.

“Hang on to me,” he said, his voice choked. “Don’t let go.”

Dodging a row of doorways walled off by crackling flames, he finally reached one that hadn’t been blocked. He shifted Nyla, hauling her over his shoulder. With his free arm, he rammed his other shoulder into the door until it fell open. Outside, Jack laid Nyla on the ground, and Althea cried out the girl’s name, Nyla-313. He’d forgotten which one she was—he knew only that she wasn’t Nyla-314. Jack dropped to his knees, doubled over and coughing, unable to get the smoke out of his lungs. Even racked with coughs, he saw Althea’s hand seek out Nyla’s to hold. It was such a slight touch, both casual and needful, and Jack understood that they were friends.

His coughing grew worse. Althea glanced at him, her worry for Nyla clear on her face, though now it seemed focused on him too. He forced in a lungful of air, but then it felt trapped in his chest until every cough was like a dagger.

Althea bent over him. “Jack?”

He warded her off with his hand, feeling like everything near him was blocking the air, and also wishing she wasn’t seeing him like this. The edge of his vision darkened.

The clones had started to arrive. They ran toward Nyla and Althea, and called to each other for water and buckets. They paid no attention to Jack, who second by second was more sure he’d pass out. The Samuels descended on the two girls, and then a hand appeared in front of Jack’s face holding an inhaler. Jack grabbed at it, fumbled it to his mouth, and pressed, sucking in the acrid, chemical taste. He pressed again, and again, until finally the coughing eased and his lungs cleared. Jack sat back on his heels and looked up to see Sam standing over him.

“What happened?” Sam asked.

The Viktors shouted orders, sending people for hoses and buckets, telling them to go to the river.

“I don’t know.”

Jack watched sheets of flame leap from the building. It was fully engulfed, blazing orange. The North Lab was where the amniotic tanks were, where they grew the clones. It was all destroyed now. There hadn’t been any fetuses in the tanks, not this year, but what would happen if they couldn’t replace those tanks? They’d never be able to grow the next generation.

Jack realized that Sam wasn’t watching the building. He was watching Jack, studying him. His eyes felt like sandpaper, he was scratched up from running in the jungle, and he’d slept all night in wet clothes. His breathing was still ragged, and blood ran down his arm from a gash he didn’t remember getting.

“Are you okay?” Sam asked.

“I’m fine.”

“What was Nyla doing in the labs?”

Jack paused, then said quietly, “You should know. You sent her.”

Sam nodded, confirming what Jack already knew.

Nyla lay on the ground surrounded by Sam’s brothers. They lifted her to a stretcher, and Althea covered her in a blanket. Nyla’s sisters appeared, crowding themselves around the throng of Samuels. Jack thought a few of the Nylas were glaring at him, though some looked with simple curiosity, probably wondering what had happened. He supposed they knew Nyla had been with him last night. It had been only a short time ago, though it felt like longer.

He tried to pick Nyla-314 out of the crowd of Nylas and found he couldn’t. In his mind, she’d looked so different from her sisters, sweeter somehow, more beautiful. Before, he thought they’d been sharing secret looks, but it’d all been in his mind. He shook his head, feeling deceived all over again.

Sam took in the scene. Althea and Nyla, the fire, Jack’s scratched face. Jack watched Sam, calm and deliberate, trying to figure out what had taken place.

“Did you do this?” Sam finally asked.

Jack reeled as if he’d been struck. “How can you ask me that?”

“If you did this, you should run, Jack. Go to the jungle, don’t come back.”

Jack almost laughed. Sam didn’t realize that was exactly what Jack had planned. “You said I’d die in the jungle.”

“If you did this, destroyed the lab, hurt one of our own . . . they’ll kill you, Jack.”

Althea left Nyla and came to Jack.

“How did this happen?” she asked. “Why were you at that house while Nyla was locked in your room?”

Sam’s head tipped toward Jack at this information. Jack swallowed, wishing he didn’t have to explain any of it, and certainly not with Althea listening. No doubt she wouldn’t care what Nyla was doing in his room. She was more familiar with the Pairing Ceremonies than he was, so she would think nothing of it. But he hated her hearing the details. Though perhaps the Nylas hadn’t just talked with each other about him. Maybe Althea had already heard every intimate detail of what he and Nyla had done together. Maybe they’d reported and catalogued to one another all his physical responses, things he’d done on instinct, driven by desire and an imagined sense of closeness. Jack squeezed his eyes shut to block out the feeling of exposure.

The Samuels carried away an unconscious Nyla. He hadn’t started a fire, but he had locked her in his room. He’d left her there. It shouldn’t have mattered. She should have been safe. He spent every night sleeping in that room in the labs. So why did this happen now? It had clearly been done on purpose. Someone had aimed to destroy the labs, or maybe to harm him, and they’d instead hurt the Nyla. Could the Council have done it, trying finally to get rid of him? But they didn’t need to sneak around to terminate their own project, and anyway, there were easier ways to get rid of him than destroying the whole lab. Maybe Carson-312—but then why would Carson start a fire in another part of the building rather than Jack’s own rooms? In any case, Carson could be vicious, but Jack didn’t think Carson would actually try to kill him.