Whisper (Whisper #1)(81)
“Anytime, princess,” he says meaningfully. Then he glances at his watch. “Our ten minutes are almost up. Are you ready?”
“Nope,” I answer, but I still move to my wardrobe and start digging through the mess that I made when I fell earlier, searching for where I hid the glove and glasses. “But I think we’re beyond me being ready. Turn around, will you?”
When he doesn’t move, I say, “It’s either you turn around to let me change, or you un-project yourself out of here and back to your little cave. No peep show for you tonight.”
“Just tonight?”
He puts his back to me, but not before I catch the smirk on his face.
“Careful, Lyss,” he adds, “or I’ll start to think you’re hitting on me.”
I ball up a pair of socks and throw them at his head. Even though they go sailing through him and hit the wall on the other side, I still feel better afterward.
Ignoring his chuckle, I make sure his back remains facing me while I quickly change into something more appropriate for the mission ahead. When I’m done, I say, “You can turn around now.”
Kael cracks up upon seeing my new outfit. “What, no balaclava?”
I glance down at the jeans-and-black-jacket combo that covers me from head to toe, having finished the look off with Esther’s boots that I’ve yet to return.
“I was going for clandestine,” I respond, gesturing to my dark clothes. “I want to avoid being noticed.”
Still laughing, Kael says, “You failed. Miserably.”
I’m not sure how to take his comment, so I busy myself with tying my hair back.
“Best if you just aim to stay out of sight completely,” he adds, saving me from having to form a response.
“That’s the plan,” I agree.
“Then go get ’em, tiger,” Kael says, shooing me toward the door. “I’ll have Smith project me back here in an hour to find out how it went.”
Something about those words helps loosen the tension knotting my stomach. Knowing that Kael will check in with me later — it’s comforting.
I’m still afraid of what I might discover tonight, but I meant what I said earlier — one way or another, I need to know the truth. I’m determined to see this through, to seek out the answers that have eluded me, to uncover Lengard’s deepest secrets.
Or, preferably, not. Because part of me still hopes that Kael is wrong and that I will find nothing.
But I’ll never know for sure unless I go and see for myself. So with a farewell wave to Kael, I step through the soundproof bubble and out of my room, ready to face the future and whatever it might reveal.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
The good thing I discover while leaving my suite is that Cami, Ward and Enzo aren’t around anymore, so I don’t have to think up some excuse for my late excursion — or my attempt at a stealthy outfit. In fact, when I pass Cami’s room, the door is open, and I can see that it’s empty. I spare a thought to question where she could be, before I realize that I don’t have time to wonder about that right now. Instead, I head out into the hall and, blending in as well as a hippopotamus wearing a bikini, I make my way along the whitewashed walls until I reach Falon’s office.
As Kael’s “good authority” promised, there is no answer when I knock lightly on the door. So, after a less-than-subtle glance over my shoulder, I place my infused glove on the scanner until it opens with a click. With my heart pounding in my ears, I push my way into the room and close the door quickly again behind me, then move straight to the inner touch screen panel.
I pull the gaudy glasses from my jacket and use them along with the infused glove again; it only takes a second before the secret wall exit hisses open and I slide through it.
Feeling distinctly edgy now, and very much just wanting to get back to the safety of my room, I half jog down the declining path, noting again that the walls steadily darken to charcoal by the time I reach the elevator. Now, at least, my outfit blends in better.
Once I’m in the metal box and the doors close behind me, I just stand there for a moment, bracing myself. This is as far as I’ve ever come. From here on out, not only am I on my own but I also have no idea where I’m going or what I may find. What if I do come face-to-face with a Speaker who can modify memories? What if I have to follow Pandora’s advice and “be creative” to stop them from stealing my thoughts?
My fears spiral until I’m verging on panicking and I decide that enough is enough. I’ve chosen my path, and I will see it through, come what may.
Determined, I lean forward until the infused glasses are scanned, and I quickly follow with my glove against the panel. Once the access light shows Falon’s ID is accepted, I press the “Up” button.
Just like the first time I used this elevator, it again moves at a fast-enough pace to make me nauseous. When it comes to a jarring halt, I have to place a steadying hand against the wall to keep from pitching out of the opening doors. But I recover quickly and scurry into the antiseptic-smelling hallway.
The bleach-like scent burns my sinuses and calls to mind memories from my short stay at the psychiatric facility. I hug the wall of the long corridor full of twists and turns and what feels like hundreds of corners. I attempt to muffle my footsteps, but it’s a challenge with my boots clickety-clacking on the linoleum, so I’m forced to tiptoe until I reach the single doorway at the end of the path.