The Cage(23)

“You are not supposed to be here,” the Caretaker said. “I must return you.”

He seized her shoulders. Electricity tore through her. She tried to twist away, but he lifted her so high her feet dangled above the ground.

“Put me down!”

Incredibly, he did. Her feet connected with the floor. She winced as her hurt elbow popped. He took notice and turned her arm palm up, then gently inspected the bruised bone of her elbow. His fingers tightened over the bones, and with a snap they realigned.

She stumbled back to the safety of the wall. “How did you do that? And how did we transport here?”

He touched the knife hilt. “You thought you could harm me with this, but it is not a weapon.” He pulled it out, a thin strip of metal that ended in a needle as long as her forearm. It dripped with something that looked like blood, but darker than a human’s. “It allows me, and anything I am touching, to dematerialize. Now take my hand.”

She shook her head.

“I thought it was a dream.” Memories of his beautiful face stumbled into her head. “But it wasn’t. It was real. I remember your face because you were the one who took me, didn’t you?”

“I must return you to your habitat.”

He reached for her. She jerked back, skirting the room. Her eyes searched for any possible exits but found nothing. The light was bolder on the far wall, beneath what looked like a pulsing blue cube; starry light poured through wall seams that were shaped like a rectangle and tall enough for a person to pass.

Was that a door?

Don’t fight back. Don’t try to escape.

But this wasn’t a man she was going to be able to reason with. This wasn’t a guard at Bay Pines who could be bribed or flirted with. Wherever they were, the police weren’t going to find them. The only thing left was escape.

“You cannot escape,” he answered.

She whirled. Had he read her thoughts—or just seen the intention on her face? Either way, she forced her chin high.

“I can try.”

She shoved off from the wall and dove toward the doorway, just as he lurched toward her. She braced to feel his superhuman grip on her arm, but a burst of static came from the communication device on his wrist. It distracted him long enough for her to dig her fingers into the glowing door seams and pull until her muscles screamed, but nothing happened.

Abruptly, the door slid open on its own.

She fell through and slammed onto a hard metallic floor on the other side. Four sets of perfectly polished black boots stood in front of her, attached to bodies that, when she dared to look up, showed four sets of black eyes. Kindred. Just like the Caretaker. They were all between six and seven feet tall. All with skin that shimmered like metal, ranging from dark bronze to ruddy copper, and dressed in cerulean uniforms with knots along the left side—three had six knots, one had seven. Two had a slimmer build, with glossy black hair tugged back in stiff knots and uniforms tailored to their curves. Females.

None of them had the Caretaker’s knifelike apparatus strapped to them, but they all wore some form of equipment slung around their hips. It spanned their thighs and looked like the protective wear an athlete might wear, but it was covered in flat buttons. When one of the female’s black-tipped fingers pressed against the buttons, Cora realized they were keypads. Computers, maybe?

The four Kindred stood in front of a metal table that bore a body, laid flat as though sleeping, long dark hair still stained with salt. On the body’s chin, a scar shaped like a lopsided heart.

Cora recognized the dead girl and screamed.

Powerful hands grabbed her from behind and lifted her to her feet. The Caretaker let her go, and she braced herself against the wall, head spinning. “What are you doing to her?”

The Caretaker’s wrist communicator buzzed incessantly, but he ignored it. “They are examining Girl Three’s body, as per protocol. They are researchers who are here to monitor your safety and record data about your interactions.”

“She’s dead! What do you need to monitor?”

The Caretaker’s black eyes slid to the others. “Every time a ward dies, we take the opportunity to examine the body, to record any changes in your species’ physical evolution.”

“Evolution happens over aeons. You can’t track it with one person.”

“Your limited mind cannot understand our advanced technology, nor the finer points of evolutionary theory.”

There was an ominous ring to his words. The girl with the heart-shaped scar was naked now, no more white sundress; and from what Cora could see, she didn’t have webbed fingers or extra toes or anything evolutionarily advanced. She was just a girl, like Cora. It hadn’t been that long ago that Cora and Lucky had dragged her out of the water.