Whisper (Whisper #1)(37)

Despite how dangerous I am, perhaps I’m not the only monster in the room.

Ward sighs loudly. His eyes lock on mine, his once-warm gaze cutting through me like frozen daggers. When he opens his mouth, there is nothing familiar in the way he speaks to me.

“There are a few things you need to know before the others arrive,” he says.

His tone is crisp and to the point. I realize that’s how he’s going to play this. He’s not going to defend Falon’s accusations, because they were true. From here on out, he’s going to keep everything clinical, factual. No room for anything else. He doesn’t have to fake a friendship with me — not anymore.

“I presume Falon told you about Xanaphan, but I’m guessing he didn’t explain much more than that.”

I nod, even though it’s not a question. I’m just pleased I’ve managed to swallow back my emotions. I won’t let him see how upset I am. I’ll take my lead from him and never let him know how much he hurt me. From now on, he’s back to being just my evaluator. My trainer.

His eyes narrow slightly as he takes in my nod. “You can talk freely in here. This room is soundproof. More than that, the black rock surrounding us —” he waves a hand, indicating the glossy material “— is called ‘Karoel.’ It’s a rare mineral that acts as a buffer and blocks the power behind Speakers’ words. No words you Speak will be able to pass outside this room, nor will any unintentional consequences. And the words you do Speak in here will be harder to summon than elsewhere, making it less easy for you to lose control.”

I want to believe him — I really do. The idea of being able to talk freely, even in this small, dark room, is something I desperately wish for. But I’ve been so careful for so long, and I’m not willing to make any more mistakes. Mistakes like trusting this new, cold Ward. I cross my arms over my chest and raise my chin. He reads my meaning clearly, if the muscle ticking in his jaw is any indication.

“You’ll have to talk eventually. You need to train, and to train you need to Speak. If you don’t, you’ll be kicked out of the program. You’ve bought yourself some time, having shown your raw abilities earlier today, but make no mistake, Six-Eight-Four: Lengard has no place for unwilling, untrainable soldiers.”

I feel as if he’s slapped me. Not because of his threat, though that doesn’t sit well. But because of what he called me.

Six-Eight-Four.

Not “Chip.”

Not even “Jane Doe,” the unidentifiable, breathing corpse.

I am nothing. No one.

I am a test subject, not even worthy of a name.

I bite the inside of my cheek to keep the crushing weight of emotion from revealing itself through my expression.

Ward’s face hardens further at what he must assume is my indifference.

“From now on, your days will be spent down here to keep you fully immersed in the Exodus Project,” he tells me. “Your psych evaluations with Dr. Manning and your physical training with Enzo have been suspended indefinitely, and your sessions with Vanik will also be put on hold.”

I can’t keep the hopeful look off my face, until he adds, “Unless you fail to cooperate with us and we need a way to … motivate you.”

I’m calling him every dirty name I can think of in my mind right now. What happened to the Ward who took care of me? The one who embraced me in a bathroom while I clung to him for dear life? The one who teased me, held my hand, moved me out of a miserable cell and into an actual home? Who is this stranger in front of me, threatening me with Vanik of all people?

If I were braver, I would ask him if any of it was real. But I’m still too afraid to open my mouth, even with his promises about the soundproofed, protected room.

His promises mean nothing to me now. Just as they never will again.

The door hisses open before Ward can say anything else, and four people walk in. Two of them I already know.

“What’s up, JD?” Enzo sends me a wink and a knowing grin. “It’s about time you joined the fold. I thought you were never gonna Speak.”

I feel as if the ground is falling out from underneath me. Did everyone keep this secret from me?

“You okay, Jane?” Cami asks quietly, walking over and placing her hand on my arm.

I step back, breaking her contact and avoiding her gaze. But not before I see a flash of hurt flicker across her face.

I can’t deal with the fact that Cami is here right now. Or Enzo. I can’t handle the idea that they were a part of the performance, too. Playing a role, just like Ward.

Instead, I look at the two new faces. One of them I recognize as the paintball girl, Keeda, who still has blue smears across the front of her clothes and in her dark, over-the-shoulder braid.

The other boy at her side is unknown to me. His black hair is buzzed short at the sides but styled with a bright-red Mohawk on the top of his head. He also has an eyebrow ring and a lip ring, with ears so pierced that I can barely see the skin through the metal.

“Guys, this is JD,” Enzo says. “JD, meet Keeda —” he points to the girl, and she waves a paint-covered hand in my direction “— and Crew —” he motions to the metal-pierced Mohawk guy, who stares unflinchingly at me. “Sneak is around here somewhere, as well, but he’s shy, especially near girls. He’ll show himself when he’s ready.”