I slid out of bed and stumbled down the hall toward the kitchen. It was early. The clock on the wall above the door read 7:12, but someone was always up around here. It made me think of Rosie, the desk clerk killed in the Sanctuary fire. She’d never slept.
Thinking about Rosie made me think about coffee. We’d always butted heads, but the girl had an appreciation for coffee rivaled only by my own. I rounded the corner of the kitchen, intent on beelining to make a pot, but someone had beaten me to it.
“Deznee.” Ginger raised her mug and gave it a little wiggle. It was an old white ceramic thing with Chippendales dancers on the front. Knowing her, it was full of fruit punch, not coffee. “Good morning.”
I stopped in the doorway and took in the room. Ginger wasn’t alone. Dax was there with Mom, as well as Vince, a Six Kale and I met over the summer while visiting the names on the list my cousin Brandt had given us. A Denazen raid had destroyed Vince’s home shortly after we’d lost Kale, but thankfully I’d given him Dax’s cell number and we were able to bring him in safely. He’d been with us ever since and had started taking more of an active role in things. In recent weeks, he’d gone out with Alex and several of the others in search of new Sixes. He felt the need to pay forward the favor we’d done to him by warning others.
“Morning, Dez.” Vince nodded.
“Come in. Sit down.” Ginger pointed to the other end of the table at the one person I didn’t know. A tall guy with black hair and linebacker shoulders. Our eyes met and for a second, I was sure I’d seen him somewhere before, but then he spun away. “Deznee, this is Henley.”
I circled the table and pulled my Xtream Scream mug down from the cabinet with a nod in his general direction. “Oh, yeah. You’re the man on the inside, right?” The smell of the coffee was comforting, and when I sat down across from Mom and took that first heavenly sip, for one brief moment all was right with the world.
Then that Henley guy opened his mouth.
“So anyway, they’ve decided to terminate them. The order went out early this morning.”
I let the cup thunk to the table. Cream-colored liquid sloshed over the edge, collecting in a puddle at the base. “See, that’s not the kinda thing I really wanna hear first thing in the morning. Who ordered what terminated? Someone catch me up here.”
Dax sighed. “Denazen has been playing in the kitchen again. They’ve officially started the third Supremacy trial.”
“Officially?” I laid my hand across the table, right at the rim, to keep the spill from going over. Mom, with a roll of her eyes, tossed me a paper towel. “I didn’t even know there was an unofficial.”
“There is,” Henley said with a frown. “And it seems they got it right—for the most part. Incompatibility for the new drug seems to be sitting at fifty percent. And what’s worse? They don’t need babies anymore. Any age will do.”
“Wow.” I took another sip and set the mug down. “Way to ruin a morning, dude.”
“That’s me,” he said with a wink. Pulling something from his pocket—a Reese’s peanut butter cup—he unwrapped it and popped the small candy into his mouth. “Always happy to bring the sunshine.”
Mom frowned. This was a touchy subject for her. She and I were part of the second trial—one that, so far, had proved unsuccessful. While pregnant with me, she’d been given a drug to enhance my Six ability. It worked—but with some hefty side effects: an increase in abilities, followed by insanity, and then eventually death. Sometimes I thought she felt guilty about the whole thing. She was the one given the drug, and yet I was the one with the pendulum swinging over my head. “So they’ve started using it? The new drug?”
Henley opened his mouth, but I beat him to it when something dawned on me. “Oh my God. That’s it. They used it on Kale! That explains the difference in his ability.”
Henley finished chewing his candy and swallowed. “I can’t say for sure, but from what Ginger told me, yeah—though it shouldn’t have messed with his memory. Either way, he’s lucky to be alive. Like I said, there’s only a fifty percent survival rate.” He frowned. “But the new trial isn’t the only bad news.”
“Aren’t you just a ball of happy,” I mumbled, downing the entire cup of coffee in four long pulls. “Can’t say I’m really thrilled to make your acquaintance at this point…”
Henley flashed an apologetic smile and kept going. “This morning they declared all the old models obsolete. They’re not going to wait for the rest to turn eighteen. They’ve ordered them—”
“Terminated,” I finished for him. That’s where I’d walked in on the conversation. Perfect. “How many are there?”
Mom leaned back. “Including you? Twelve.”
“That’s a lot of potential crazies to hunt down,” Alex said, leaning back in his chair. “With all the resources Denazen has, we’ll never get to them all in time.”
Henley nodded and pulled out another piece of candy. I resisted the urge to jump up and snatch it away. The smell of peanut butter was making me sick. “Twelve total—but you have two already, so, really, only ten. And not all of them are still out there. Some have already been terminated.”
“Two—me and who else?”
Henley turned, pinning me with a look that sent chills down my spine. “Me.”
This kept getting better and better. “Do we know which of the ten are already dead?”
He shook his head. “Unfortunately, not without going to check on each one. We have someone else on the inside. She’s good with a computer, but they’re keeping the info pretty close to the cuff. They erased all the files. Our guess is they’re playing it safe and using paper.”
Wonderful. “Do we have names? Addresses?” I glanced back at the coffee machine. Vince had just poured the last of the pot into his cup. Perfect. I was going to need more caffeine to deal with this. Like, much more. “Please tell me we have something to go on because otherwise this is going to be an epic needle-in-a-haystack thing.”
Henley looked uncomfortable. “We have the names and last-known locations, but that’s no guarantee you’ll find them there. I’m pretty sure it’s an old list.”
“And we can’t get an updated one because they’re not keeping it on the computers anymore. What about you?” I nodded to Henley. “Can’t you go in and dig something up? Isn’t that what you’re there for?”
Ginger shook her head. “Henley’s position on the inside is no longer viable. He’s here to stay.”
Henley stood. “I’ve got a massive headache. Do you mind if I crash?”
“Of course,” Ginger said, standing as well. “Deznee, could you please show Henley to five twelve?”
“No,” he said, glancing at me from the corner of his eye. “You can just tell me where it is. I can find my own way.”
Ginger narrowed her eyes. “Deznee will take you.” Without another word, she turned and exited the kitchen through the door on the opposite end, Dax following close behind. Mom hung back for a moment, then left as well, leaving Vince at the table shoveling away at an enormous bowl of cereal. I’d never seen anyone eat as much as he did. Anytime I saw him, he was chewing on something. The guy’s metabolism must operate on triple speed because he was thin as a rail.
“Well, I guess you’re showing me to my room.” Henley turned and started for the door. As he stepped away from the table, I noticed something bulky in his side pocket. Something round—like a wheel. There was only one person I knew who carried a wheel with them everywhere they went.
Brandt.
I waited until we were down the hall, past the common room, before I stepped in front of him. “So that’s it? You’re not planning on saying anything?”
He stopped just short of crashing into me, eyes wide. “Huh?”
“Really? You’re gonna play dumb? With me?”
“I don’t understand. What are you—”
“The skate wheel is sticking out of your pocket, brain trust.” The wheel was from his favorite skateboard. It was the one and onl
y thing he’d taken before leaving Parkview behind.
He patted his hip like he’d forgotten it was there—totally unlikely, since he never went anywhere without the damn thing—and cursed. “I can explain.”
“I doubt it,” I said, bitter. One foot in front of the other, I started walking again, a confusing mix of anger and elation twisting my gut into a knot. “I haven’t seen you since before Kale left. I waited—you obviously knew what was going on. You had to know I needed you.”
“Dez—”
“What could you possibly have to say, Brandt?” I was angry, but more than that, I was hurt. Whenever the bad crap went down in my life, Brandt always had my back. He was a Soul Jumper, which meant that when my cousin’s body died, his life force jumped into the nearest person. In the event that person was a Six, he inherited their abilities.
Brandt had obtained incriminating information about Denazen, and Dad had him killed. They didn’t know it—and hopefully never would—but he was alive and well. After his first death, he’d jumped into Sheltie’s body, the Six who’d murdered him. Sheltie could invade your dreams, so even though my cousin had to stay out of sight, he was in my dreams when I really needed him.
Until one day he just wasn’t.
He grabbed my arm to stop me, then leaned back against the wall. “Just ’cause I was out of sight doesn’t mean I wasn’t looking out for you.”
“I didn’t need anyone looking out for me. I needed my best friend.”
Brandt shook his head. “I’m sorry. Nothing I say is going to seem like a good enough reason.”
“Try me.”
“I did visit your dreams, Dez. I visited, and I got so freaked by what I saw that I made myself stay away.”
Not what I’d expected.
He pulled the wheel from his pocket and rolled it between his hands. The Brandt equivalent of a nervous twitch. “You were hurt and terrified. The way it manifested in your dreams really hit me. I—I was afraid if I kept seeing stuff like that, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from running home—and I couldn’t do that. Not when there’s so much else at stake.”
I understood—sort of—but it didn’t make me feel any better. Brandt had been my rock. Not having him there, with everything that had happened, was hard. I’d missed him. “So that’s it? You’re here now?”
He nodded and we started walking again.
It took exactly six steps for it to hit me.
“No—”
“Dez, don’t.”
I froze, heart nearly seizing. “Ten—you said—you and me…” Forming a coherent sentence was nearly impossible. “You jumped into the body of a Supremacy victim?”
4
Brandt sighed, stuffing the wheel back into his pocket. “I didn’t plan it, Dez. It just happened.”
“I don’t understand,” I said. Deep breaths. In through the nose. Out through the mouth. Nice and easy. “What happened to the Sheltie suit?”
“It’s a long story.” He glanced down the hall, like he was checking to make sure we were alone, then leaned closer. “Cross and Kiernan were wrong. A few months ago they told you they’d found a cure—but they hadn’t.”
He was wrong. Had to be. “Kiernan is over eighteen. I know that for a fact.”
“They gave her something they thought was the cure, and it did work—for a while. After a few months, though, it started breaking down. She began showing signs of decline.”
She’d seemed perfectly fine at the party. “But you’re saying she’s okay now?”
“Ginger will fill you in on the bulk of it, but the short version is yes.” He gestured to himself. “But that’s where my new body comes in. To make the cure work, they needed something from someone. A man named Wentz. Ginger sent me in to get to him first, but I failed. I died trying to stop them.”
“And you ended up in the same boat as me,” I said, the knot in my chest getting bigger. “So now not only am I on death row, you’re there with me. Your strategy leaves a lot to be desired.”
He took my hand and squeezed. “We are not on death row.”
I pulled away and opened my mouth to argue with him.
He cut me off. “Dez. Look who you’re talking to. Soul Jumper, remember? Other than dealing with the current effects, I’m not in any real danger.” He thumped me lightly on the shoulder. “Come on, you know that.”
Wow. Duh. He had a point. Why hadn’t I seen that for myself? Because my own brain was starting to scramble, that’s why. Easily distracted and unfocused, I found my mind wandering lately. The Supremacy drug—it had to be. But that didn’t matter. Not now. For the first time in months, things were starting to look up. Time to suck it up and take back my life. “But what about the cure? If you failed, how—”
“Ginger will kick my ass if she knows I’m telling you about all this. Let her fill in the rest of the blanks.” He swayed a little, and I felt bad for badgering, but there was one more thing I had to ask.
“What about Kale? Do you know what they did to him? He—he’s so different.”
The sympathy in Brandt’s eyes bugged me for some reason. Maybe because, for the past few months, I’d seen it in everyone’s eyes. Annoying compassion for the poor, lost girl. “The new Supremacy drug would account for the change in Kale’s ability, but I’ve never heard of it messing with someone’s memories. I guess it could have been the thing that scrambled his eggs, but I doubt it. They’ve given it to twenty people. Nine or ten survived, and as far as I know, their heads are still in working order. If I had to place bets on the cause, I’d go with a Resident.”
Residents were Sixes who willingly lived and worked alongside Denazen. Their own personal superpowered butt monkeys. “Any ideas which one?”
He shrugged. “Wish I knew.”
We came to a stop in front of room 512—six doors down from mine. He looked a little pale, and every once in a while I swore I saw him tremble. “I have to ask—and I expect the truth. The headache—is that body declining?”
He brushed the lightest of kisses across my forehead. “Lemme crash for an hour or so. Then we’ll plot world domination, ’kay?”
Not the answer I’d hoped for. Hell, not even an answer at all. But for now it would have to do. I had a boyfriend to rescue and ten science project offspring to hunt down before they popped their lids—or Denazen did it for them.
Oh. And a cure to find so Brandt’s current body and I didn’t die a horrible, insanity-laced death.
Easy. Reeeal easy.
…
Showered and dressed, I found everyone clumped in the living room talking quietly. Dax and Mom looked cozy on the couch, while Alex was crammed into his beanbag chair—an essential piece of furniture for every living room, according to him. Ginger sat in her normal armchair by the door, wooden folding tray upright in front of her. There were a lot of Sixes under our roof, but the people gathered here had formed a sort of leadership chain. We were the enforcers of Ginger’s little army.
“So what’s the plan?” I asked, flopping down next to Mom. There was a renewed energy humming through my veins. Having seen Kale last night and getting Brandt back this morning had recharged my batteries some. A direction and a goal. We were facing one hell of a mountain, but I had my climbing legs back and wanted to get started. “How are we gonna use the info we have to get Kale back?”
“We’re not,” Ginger said. She picked a manila envelope off the tray beside her and waved it back and forth, accidentally smacking Vince as he walked in the room.
“Come again?” I’d heard her wrong. Had to have.
“We’re not going to do anything about Kale. At the moment, he’s not a priority.”
The temperature in the room plummeted and everything blurred to a filmy haze. “Not a priority? You’ve gotta be shitting me!” I jumped up and jabbed a finger at Mom, who seemed oddly unbothered by Ginger’s words. “Tell me she’s kidding.”
Mom opened her mouth but Ginger, with a stern look and sharp shake of her head, cut
her off.
Wow. So my own flesh and blood wasn’t going to side with me? She’d raised Kale inside Denazen as though he were her own for Christ’s sake. “He’s my priority. If he’s not a priority for you guys, then he’s one for me. The only one.”
“Deznee—” Ginger tried, but I steamrolled her.
“No way. No excuses. This is crazy. He’s your grand—”
“Dez!” Alex roared. He slammed the coffee table, rattling the cereal bowl Vince had just set down. “Sit down, shut up, and let her finish.”
I glared, wanting nothing more than to punch him, but sank onto the couch. Lately Alex seemed to have subscribed to the Church of Ginger. He backed her decisions—even when they made no sense. Made excuses for her—even when it was obvious that she was wrong. And now he was ready to let Kale flop in the wind because Ginger said so?
Okay. Maybe that one wasn’t such a big surprise, given the shared animosity between the boys.
Ginger cleared her throat. “As I was trying to say, there are more pressing matters. We know Kale is unharmed. He’s not going anywhere for the time being. Denazen is going to move on the Supremacy subjects swiftly.” She shot a glare in my direction. “In case you’ve forgotten, Deznee, that includes you and Brandt.”
I hadn’t forgotten. I’d tried, but I hadn’t forgotten. They wouldn’t let me. Mom was constantly bringing it up, working it into conversations at the most random times, and Ginger dropped hints on an almost daily basis.
“We haven’t long to find them.” She ripped open the envelope and leafed through a file, pulling out a wallet-sized black-and-white picture. Handing it to me, she said, “We must get to this woman before they do.”
Reluctantly, I took the picture. I was still pissed—but curious. The girl in the photograph was pretty, somewhere in her twenties with big hair and out-of-date clothing. I flipped it over. In small, blocky handwriting, it said, Penny Mills, 1974. “Who is she?”