Reborn (Altered) (17 page)

Nick followed me inside the main house. Aggie wasn’t home, thank God. I found a note from her stuck to the fridge saying she’d gone to the hospital for a volunteer night shift.

“I think I need to lie down,” I told Nick.

“You need anything?”

“A glass of water?” I said.

“I’ll bring it up to you.”

“My room is the second door on the left.”

He nodded and disappeared into the kitchen. I heard him opening and shutting cupboards as I trudged up the stairs. While I had a few moments alone, I changed into a pair of black leggings and an oversized T-shirt.

Nick came in a few minutes later with the glass of ice water in his hand.

“Thanks.” I took it from him and grabbed my bottle of meds from the desk. I shook out two and swallowed both with a gulp of water.

“What are those for?” he asked quietly, as if he was unsure whether he should ask.

For some reason, with him, I didn’t feel like I had to hide anything. “Anxiety.”

He nodded at the cobalt glass bottles. “And these?”

Crap. When I’d asked him to bring me a glass of water, I’d forgotten all about those.

“Memory bottles,” I said. “Scent is strongly tied to memories. And sometimes I just need a happy one.”

Don’t look at the end of the row
, I thought.
Don’t look.

But he did.

He found the
GABRIEL
bottle easily enough—I’d forgotten to tuck it back behind the
CARNIVALS
bottle—and pulled it down. That exposed the
NICK
bottle, and he grabbed that one too.

“I have a bottle?” he asked. “Two bottles?” He seemed amused by this.

“It’s weird, I know.”

“It’s not. Scent
is
a powerful trigger. But I wouldn’t think my place in your past was a good one.”

It’s good and bad. It’s many things.

“Can I smell them?” he asked.

I shrugged, trying to hide my dismay.

The cork came out with a
pop
. He took in a breath. “Cinnamon,” he said. Another breath. “Pine?”

“Yes.”

“And something else woodsy.”

“Cedarwood. And musk.”

He replaced the cork and smiled. “I smell good.”

I laughed. “Well, I’m not in the habit of making terrible scents.”

“And the other bottle?” he asked.

“Brand-new.”

He replaced the
GABRIEL
bottle on the shelf and tried the
NICK
bottle. “The same, but with something new. Something”—another sniff—“flowery?” He looked slightly horrified by this.

“Lavender.”

“I smell like lavender?”

“It could be your laundry detergent.”

He nodded and smiled, like that made sense. “Anna likes the flowery shit.”

“Anna?”

He paused for a second, then said, “My sister.”

“Where is she now?”

“Home. Michigan.”

“Do you still talk to her?”

He nodded. “I live with her. With her—and Sam and Cas.”

“Your brothers?”

Another nod. He thought for a beat, then shook his head. “Actually,
no. They’re not related to me. They were a part of my group, with the Branch. But they’re like my family.”

“Oh.”

The way he’d said that, quiet and husky, made me think these were details he hadn’t wanted to share. More of the truth he wanted to keep buried. And if he was sharing these things with me, what did that mean?

He put the
NICK
bottle back and leaned into my desk, crossing his arms over his chest. I tried so hard not to look at the massive bulk of muscle on his upper arms. Tried and failed. I was not immune to the sight of a good-looking boy. In my room, of all places.

“What’s Anna like? Do you get along with her?” I asked.

“I didn’t use to. I do now. She’s… strong, and smart. And forgiving.” He ran a hand over his face, a very human gesture that I didn’t see him do often. “Like you, she’s been through a lot.”

“Are you and her, like, you know…” I trailed off, wondering why in the hell I’d broached that subject in the first place.

“No,” he said quickly. “She’s with Sam.”

I exhaled with relief. “So you’re not—”

“With anyone?” he asked, his voice laced with mirth. His eyes always seemed brighter when he was amused. “No.”

The heat returned to my cheeks. “It’s not really any of my business anyway.”

“I don’t mind you asking.” A pause. “Are you with anyone? Evan seems really protective of you.”

I brought my legs up and folded them beneath me on the bed. “I’m not with Evan. He’s just a friend. I’m not with anyone. Not a lot of people would feel like dealing with the crazy girl.”

He scoffed. “First of all, you’re not crazy. Second of all, Evan, as much as he is a jackass, does legitimately seem to like you.”

I looked away, feeling a smile tug at my lips. I’d liked Evan for the greater part of the past year. I would have given anything to know he felt the same way about me.

But now I wasn’t so sure what I wanted.

Nick changed everything.

He pushed away from the desk. “Will you be all right if I leave for a little while?”

“Yeah.” I could already feel the anxiety meds kicking in. I fought back a yawn. They always left me sleepy. “When will you be back?”

“Not for a while.”

I nodded. “Do you want me to bring breakfast again tomorrow?”

I wanted him to say yes more than I’d ever wanted anything.

“Sure. If you want.”

He started for the door, but paused halfway there and glanced at me over a shoulder. “You’re sure you’re okay? I can stay.”

“I’m fine.”

He nodded, as if relieved I’d declined. I didn’t blame him. No one wanted to take care of someone who was in a miserable mood. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

I smiled. “I’ll be there bright and early.”

“Not too early,” he said. “I’m not a morning person.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

I caught the barest hint of a smile on his face as he pulled the door closed.

I curled up on the bed, hugging a pillow close to my chest. The sooner tomorrow morning came, the better.

25

NICK

AS SOON AS I GOT BACK TO THE APARTMENT, I stripped off my shirt and tossed it in the corner. It was still wet at the chest.

I sucked at consoling people. In fact, I was terrible at it. A shirt soaked with tears was about all I could manage.

After finding a clean shirt in my bag, I tried Trev’s cell for the third time that day. It went straight to voice mail. I brought up the text screen and typed in,
Call me back, asshole
, then deleted
asshole
and hit send. The last bit was probably implied.

Now more than ever I had to get inside that lab. Chances were, it was the place Elizabeth had been held, and if so, there could be clues there as to what the program had been.

I had my suspicions, but I needed concrete proof.

As I waited for Trev to reply, I grabbed a bite to eat. After downing a turkey sandwich, I cleaned an apple and ate it as I stared out the front windows, zoning out, trying to put together a reliable theory about Elizabeth’s treatments.

When Trev didn’t immediately call me back, I went to plan B.

I called Anna.

“Hey,” she answered. “Everything all right?”

“You forgot the code,” I pointed out.

“If you’re reminding me of the code, then clearly Riley isn’t standing over your shoulder.”

I laughed. “That’s true.”

Anna was silent for a beat. “You laughed.”

I had.

“You never laugh,” she said.

“Are you going to give me shit or are you going to help me?”

She groaned. “What’s up?”

“I need you to call Trev and tell him I said sorry like seven times and that he needs to stop being such a pussy.”

“You talked to Trev?” she asked, ignoring the rest.

“Yes, and now he won’t talk to me.”

She sighed. “What did you do?”

“Why is it always my fault?”

“Because it usually is.”

“You’re starting to sound like Cas.”

“Nick.”

“I need you to call him. Please.”

Another sigh. “Why?”

“Because there’s a lab here, and he knows where it is.”

She relayed the news to someone in the room with her.

The phone exchanged hands. Sam came on the line. “We’re coming down. Don’t do anything until we get there.”

“I don’t need you here. I can handle it myself.”

“Nicholas.”

“Samuel.”

“I’d rather we go together, instead of you going alone with Trev.”

“We can trust Trev,” Anna said in the background.

“No we can’t,” Sam argued.

“Despite my obvious hatred for the guy,” I said, “I do think we can trust him. I just need him to talk to me.”

Sam was silent, then said, “Fine. But first sign of trouble, call. I don’t like you being down there without backup.”

“You’re like a broken record, you know that? I said I could take care of myself. I don’t need you to hold my hand.”

“Stop being so damn defensive. You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I got it, boss. I’ll send out a bat signal if shit gets real. Now, is Anna going to call Trev or not?”

“She’s calling him now on the other cell.”

I waited. Sam waited. I could hear Anna talking in the background, but I couldn’t make out what she was saying.

After a few minutes, she came back on the line. “He said to tell you to stop being so obstinate.”

I didn’t even know what that meant. “Fine.”

She went back to Trev to tell him he’d gotten his way, then said good-bye. To me she said, “He’s coming to pick you up right now.”

“He doesn’t even know where I’m staying.”

“It’s Trev,” she said. “Of course he knows.”

Trev and I didn’t talk much on the way out to the lab. Fine by me. It took us nearly twenty minutes to reach it. It was an old dairy farm, stuck in the middle of nowhere. There was a run-down house on the property, the windows boarded shut. The barn was in good shape though, and had clearly been kept up.

That must have been where the lab was hidden.

Trev parked just outside the double barn doors with the Jag pointed outward, for a quick escape.

“Did you go in the other night?” I asked him. “After you dumped me on the side of the road?”

“No.” He shut the car off. “I just drove past, then parked about a half mile away and walked back. I wanted to do some surveillance before I broke in.”

“And?” I asked.

“Nothing. No activity. None whatsoever.”

At least I hadn’t missed any fun.

There was a chain on the barn doors, padlocked with a commercial-grade lock. Thankfully, Trev had thought to bring bolt cutters, and we were through in less than a minute.

The doors shuddered as we opened them, the tracks corroded from neglect. Inside, the place was pitch-black and smelled faintly of hay and wet animals.

Trev clicked on a flashlight and shot the beam across the space. There were several rooms on the left where the horses would have been kept. Another room on the right, probably for supplies. There was a hayloft fully intact above us. Bats flickered in the beam of light.

“So how do we get in?” I said.

“Good question.”

I was the first one inside, and I used the light cast from Trev’s flashlight to guide me. I checked the horse stalls and didn’t find anything suspicious. Trev checked the supply room. Nothing there, either. There was one more room, on the right, in the way back. That, too, was empty.

“Shit,” I muttered. “Why do they have to hide their hidden lab so well?”

“It’s gotta be here somewhere.” Trev returned to the main part of the barn. “I’ll check the hayloft just in case.”

Seemed unlikely they’d hide a lab in a hayloft, but whatever. Gave me a chance to snoop alone.

Using my boot, I cleared away dry hay from the concrete floor of the back room. No embedded door handles. No obvious seams in
the concrete. I went back out to the main room and did a circle as my eyes adjusted to the darkness.

Something wasn’t right about this place. I just couldn’t tell what yet. I went to the back wall of the barn and ran my hand along it, feeling for anything that stuck out from the raw wood. There was another door there, but it led straight to the outside.

I glanced at the empty back room again. Then at the back wall.

“Trev,” I called.

He hung his head over the edge of the loft. “Yeah?”

“Get down here.”

He joined me a few seconds later.

“Look,” I said, and pointed at the back room. “If that room met the back wall of the barn, its square footage should be one hundred or so. Maybe a hundred and twenty.”

He looked at me in the gloom, and his eyes flashed. “That room is too narrow for that. It’s sixty square feet at the most.”

I nodded. “Exactly.”

We hurried into the room again and examined the wall that should have met up with the barn’s back wall. Ten seconds in, I found a loose board, and when I gave it a tug it swung out, revealing a door handle.

“Bingo,” Trev said.

I tried it, but it didn’t budge. There was a keypad, like all the labs had, embedded in the wall.