The Cage(84)

Had he wanted her to show him?

She gasped, shocked by her own line of thought, unable to calm her rapid heartbeat as easily as he was able to. She squeezed the bone, refocusing herself.

“What the hell is this?”

Cassian didn’t blink. “That belonged to a previous inhabitant of this environment.”

“A dead inhabitant.”

The accusation seemed to slip off his smooth skin, and he cocked his head calmly. “Yes. We are able to synthetically replicate your world within these boundaries, but it requires a large supply of carbon. If a human dies, it is perfectly logical to recycle their carbon. Most is absorbed quickly; sometimes there are pieces that take longer.”

“This whole place is made of dead bodies?”

“We use a variety of carbon sources, not only human carcasses. I would place the number of bodies that have been absorbed into this environment at eighteen. This enclosure is relatively new. Your cohort is only the third one to occupy it.”

She squeezed the bone harder. “What happened to the other two groups?”

“The cohorts both failed. Each ward was terminated as a result of their own actions.”

Cora frowned, uncertain of what he meant.

“They murdered each other,” he clarified calmly, as though this information didn’t trouble him in the least. But it rocked Cora; her heart seized into a fist.

“Murdered?”

“We discovered that none of the previous inhabitants of this environment were adaptable to captivity,” he continued. “They grew irate. The males fought over the females. They started wandering alone instead of residing within the settlement areas. Eventually they killed each other.”

“You mean they went crazy.” It was a struggle to control her voice. “They couldn’t handle your mind games. The headaches. The optical illusions. You pushed them too far, messing around with time and space, matching random strangers together . . . what did you expect would happen?”

She was shouting now.

He folded his hands. “It will not happen again.”

“Why not?” She threw her arm in the direction of the jungle huts. “Leon’s halfway there already!”

For a second his mask slipped, and she saw indecision in his eyes. “The previous cohorts were selected solely for their desirable traits and their fertility. Unfortunately, their advanced age made them unable to adapt. That is why the six of you are all of an adolescent age. Old enough for procreation, but young enough to adapt. We spent considerable time reconfiguring the habitats to reflect the needs of your age bracket.”

If it wasn’t for the heavy fatigue in her limbs, Cora would want to slap him. The adults all turned violent, so they took teenagers instead. This explained the childlike nature of life in the cage: the candy store, the arcade, the prizes. As if they were six years old, not sixteen.

“Is that really what you think matters to us? Toys? Candy?” She sucked in a breath. “Is that really what you think matters to me?”

She clamped her mouth shut before her voice broke. She knew how desperate she sounded. The other Kindred viewed them as dolls they could toy with, but she had thought Cassian was different. She thought he saw her as a person, not a plaything.

Maybe she’d been wrong.

Cora closed her eyes, but the image of the bleached bone didn’t go away. Was she truly just a chore for him—something to keep alive and healthy? What about the times he’d bent the rules for her? What about the necklace with the charm of a dog? What about the stars?

She clutched her necklace so hard that the sharp charms bit into her palm. With her eyes closed, she could almost believe she was back home. She’d wake in the morning in her own bed, with the smell of brunch downstairs, and the soft hum of the morning news on the downstairs TV.

“Cora.”

Her eyes snapped open. He’d moved close enough that she tasted metal.

“I know that more matters to you. I know that you long for home. I know that you wish you had told your family more often that you loved them.” He reached for her neck. The Warden’s hand flashed in her head, his fingers against her windpipe. But Cassian’s hand didn’t tighten around her throat; it stopped on the charm necklace. His bare fingers touched it gently, almost reverently, and that nameless electricity sparked around the edges of her throat.

“How long were you watching me on Earth?” she whispered.

“Long enough.”