Rippled (3 page)

“Krista, are you okay?” I asked again, flashing a quick smile when she looked at me.

“W-where am I?” Her gaze dropped from my face, to my hands on hers, to the door and back to me again. “My name…how do you know my name? Who are you?” She pulled her hands from under mine, and the weary, half-lidded eyes of moments earlier grew wide and dark.

Crap.
I cleared my throat and reached for her again. “Easy.
Easy,”
I murmured when she flinched away from me. She looked up at me, vertical lines etched into her brow. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m here to help.” I monitored her rigid posture before continuing. “Do you trust me?”

The tone she used was one of malice and disgust. “Trust you?” she cried out as she swung her legs over the side of the table. “I don’t even know you!”

She faltered, and I caught her before she could fall to the floor. Krista was silent then, and with my help, she made it back onto the table. She was calm—because I’d proven myself to her or because she couldn’t walk on her own, I couldn’t tell.

Assured she wouldn’t try to run away, I continued, “You may have seen me when you first came in, but we haven’t been formally introduced. I’m Brian.”

She shut her eyes tight, then opened them again. “Krista…but you already knew that, didn’t you?”

I nodded. “Not much happens here that I don’t know about.”

I held her steady when she went to swing her legs over one side of the table again. I handed her one of the thin blankets the first chance I got, but she declined my offer.

“And where is here?” she asked after a long moment, setting her bare feet on the floor before pushing off the table.

“It’s…complicated.” I wrapped the blanket over her shoulders and put a hand on the small of her back. “And something I want to explain, but not here.” I gestured at the cold room. “Do you think you can walk?”

She looked from my arm, which she’d grabbed on to for support, to her feet, then to the door. “I-I think so.” She took a step to test her balance then glanced back at me. “Don’t let me go, okay?”

Wouldn’t dream of it.

I smiled and carefully led her out of the room. We paused just outside the lab where Malcom had first had her so I could retrieve her shoes. While I was grabbing them, Krista took her time studying the chair, the broken straps on the floor, the tray of instruments and the silent monitors.

“I’ve been here before,” she began, taking a step into the room.

I returned to her side before she could take another step. “What do you remember?”

Knowing what she knows now will give you more control over the situation.

It was the last thing I actually wanted to hear, but it was for the best. I could guide her thoughts if I wanted to, but I wouldn’t. She deserved an explanation, and not a half-assed one either.

“Not much to be honest.” She bent over to tie her shoes, then took my hand again. “But the rooms are familiar—you’re familiar.” She paused to look at me. “Your eyes.”

I dropped my gaze. When I looked up again, she’d moved on to studying something else. I stopped her before we could step outside and removed my shirt, placing it on top of the blanket I’d given her earlier.

She frowned at me and wrinkled her nose. “A little too soon in our relationship for this, isn’t it?” A smile tugged at her lips, but only made it halfway.

It was enough. She was alert.

Alert enough to make jokes.

I tried to hide my sheepish grin. “It’s pretty cold outside, and we have to go out there to get you to your personal quarters.”

For the next handful of steps she didn’t take her eyes off mine. I didn’t need to look ahead since I was familiar with the territory, but the gaze she held to mine was almost challenging. A dare to tell her whatever it was I knew. And I would, just as soon as we got back inside.

“We might have to run,” I warned her, slowly turning the knob on the door.

“How cold is cold?” she asked, a shiver running through her.

“Cold enough for ice. Cold enough for snow.”

She shivered again and hugged my shirt around her smaller frame. She yawned and almost fell backwards. In fact, she would’ve had I not been standing right behind her.
She’s not awake yet.
It would take some time for the sedative to completely wear off.

“How far?” she asked when I helped her stand back up. “And why are you the only…the only one here? What is this place?”

And here come the questions.
“I’m here because…”

“Because what?”

Because I don’t see you as a piece of meat.
I bit at my lower lip. “Because…I couldn’t leave you.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “I’m not sure if I should be flattered or creeped out.”

“Why not a little bit of both?” I shrugged. “Safer to side with caution, right?”

“I…guess.”

I started to open the door and stopped. “Are you okay to run? There’s a pretty big yard between us and where we need to go.”

She took a step back as she tried to avoid the swirling flakes of snow that made it through the cracks. “You weren’t kidding about the snow.”

“Yeah, it comes pretty quick sometimes.”

“So, if I told you I couldn’t run, what would you do?”

That’s permission enough for me.

“This.”

Chapter Three

Krista

In the time it took for me to take a breath and keep my teeth from chattering, I was in Brian’s arms. I winced around the ache in my temples as he held me to his chest—for warmth or some other agenda, I couldn’t say. No matter his reasons, I was thankful for it. Not just because I couldn’t walk straight, but for keeping me warm, or at least as much as he could against a freak blizzard.

As he carried me over an open yard, past men in uniform, it was then I realised just how exposed I was. Frantic, I hugged the clothing and blankets closer to my skin, but God only knew where the rest of my things were.

I knew I should’ve been freaked out by this guy I’d just met, but something somewhere inside told me I knew him. I just couldn’t remember what that something was.

Not to mention if it even exists.

I could’ve been suffering from that mental state kidnapped victims get. The one where I’m supposed to trust my captor because they’re all I’ve got.

No, that couldn’t be it. I would’ve remembered.
Drugs.
Okay, so that might have been it, but it just didn’t feel right. When I looked at his eyes, I didn’t have any negative feelings. And his voice. I’d heard it before.

I lifted my head away from Brian’s shoulder when he stopped in front of a smaller building, and looking around, I saw it wasn’t the only one. There were dozens of them laid out into rows.
Houses,
I decided, or as close as one could get if they were all just single-storey buildings.

Again, I tried to figure out what had brought me here, but every thought, every scenario, seemed just as unlikely as the last.

Brian said he’d explain everything.

Maybe, but how much of that did I really believe?

It’s hard to be sure of anything when your memory sucks.

Had it always sucked? Had I become this way after I got here?

Did you make me this way?

I glared at Brian, but his eyes were set in front of us, staring down one of the men in uniform. My eyes went wide when I noticed the man’s sidearm, and I shrank against Brian’s chest.

“He…” I whispered, trying to send my voice over the howling wind. “He has a gun.”

Brian nodded to me, then said, “Open the door.”

“Name?” the guard asked.

“Krista,” Brian said.

“I’m sorry,” the man in uniform said. “But Malcom has ordered that this one not be—”

“Let them through,” another man called from behind us, his eyes settling on mine. “She’ll catch her death out here if you don’t.”

“Sir.” The first man stepped aside so Brian could open the door. “You will find everything you need inside.”

Brian nodded and glanced back over his shoulder, but the second stranger had already disappeared. “Come, let’s get you out of this snow,” he said, cradling me with one arm as he made his way indoors.

“What was that all about?” I asked in a thin whisper.

“What?” Brian asked, seeming somewhat surprised. “The guards?”

“Uh, yeah? Is he going to be there all day?”

“All night, too.”

I eyed the door when it closed, able to hear it lock somehow from the other side. “And how do we get out?”

Brian pointed to an odd speaker beside the door with a button underneath it. “Intercom,” he said gently. “You push the button and then let the guard know when you need to use any of the facilities. He’ll be the one escorting you when I’m not around.”

“And…am I the only one with an escort?”

Brian shook his head. “No, everyone here has a guard standing outside their quarters.”

“What about you? You didn’t have a guard escorting us here.”

“I’m a senior resident. The trust they give me comes with the territory.” He shrugged.

“Mind telling me how long this headache is supposed to last?”

Brian set me down on the edge of the bed and handed me a glass of water from a side table. “It’s hard to say. We all react differently.”

“We?”
As in, you’ve gone through this before?

“It’s better if I just show you.” He squeezed my hand, set the glass back down on the table and backed away. “Don’t freak out, okay?”

Don’t freak out about w—?
“Holy shit!”

If I’d blinked at that very moment, I would’ve missed it. Even then, I wasn’t sure if it had actually happened.

Of course it did.

There, in front of me, stood a snow leopard. A living, breathing cat that should’ve been out in the mountains somewhere. Not here.

It flinched and took a step back when I cried out. It didn’t move after that. It didn’t say a word.

Animals don’t talk, remember?

Then how do you explain it just appearing out of thin air? It has to be from the drugs.

If that were true, then both Brian and the leopard were just a hallucination.

That would explain why you feel so comfortable with him.

No, it wasn’t a hallucination. It felt real—
was
real
.
Concerned with what I could see, and even more so with what wasn’t there, I inched to the middle of the bed.

Yeah, like that’s going to help.

I eyed the door and wondered if it was locked from the inside or by the guard we’d passed on the way in.

It will kill you before you even get there.

“You freaked out,” came Brian’s voice. The leopard canted his head to one side. “How do I look?” He mewed, then asked, “Do I look fat in this coat?”

I had still been trying to shake off my surprise from seeing a wild animal in front of me when it had spoken.
With Brian’s voice.
Its lips were moving, but instead of growling or whatever it was that snow leopards did, it was talking.

With Brian’s voice!

And after the leopard’s—after Brian’s last comment, I wasn’t sure if I should laugh, cry or call for help.

“Uh,” I began, trying to pick my jaw up off the floor. “I don’t even know where to start.” It was a wonder I could even talk.

It’s the drugs.
Whatever I was on was keeping me calm. It had to be. No one in their right mind would be this calm in front of a wild animal, let alone a snow leopard. “A little warning would’ve been nice!”

The leopard—Brian—sat back on his haunches. “Would you have believed me if I had told you?”

“I still don’t believe it.” A part of me wanted to reach out and touch his fur, to see if what I was seeing was real. But the rational side of me held me in place in the middle of the bed. “Why? How is this…? Who did this to you?”

“That’s interesting,” Brian purred, flicking an ear in my direction.

“What is?”

I’m not seeing this. It isn’t real. Time to wake up, Krista. Any minute now. No pinch in the world could wake me up from this dream
…

That’s it!

“You aren’t real. This is all a dream, and you can’t die in a dream.”

“Wrong on both counts, actually. This isn’t a dream.” He took a step towards me. “And you can die in a dream if it’s the right one.” Another step.

“And is…is this the right kind?”

“Krista, this isn’t a dream.” He stopped a few feet away from the bed. “And what’s interesting is the fact that you asked who did this to me. You didn’t ask how this happened or if I was born like this.”

“What, with the ability to…to transform?” I shook my head. “I would’ve read about it in the paper or something.”

“Then how do you explain myself and everyone else here? We exist—we’ve existed for over a year. You never read about it, though, did you?”

“I…no, I guess not.”

You should be running. Like now. Right now.

I didn’t move.
He isn’t a dinosaur. He can see you whether you move or not.

“So, what happened? Is this…” I gestured to his furred body. “Is this why I’m here?”
Is that why I can’t remember anything?
“Have I—?”

Brian was shaking his head before I could finish. “No, you haven’t shifted.” He bowed his head. “Well, not exactly.” When I didn’t take my eyes off him, he continued, “Okay, you kind of did.”

“Kind of?”
Why don’t I remember it?

He sighed. “A shift isn’t complete until the shifter, meaning you, is comfortable in her skin.”

“Okay, so then what kind of…shift? What kind was it?”

“Your first. But nothing happened.”

“Brian, I’m sure if I shifted, I’d be able to remember it.”

“Well, what do you remember?”

I hung my legs over the side of the bed and held my head in my hands. “Not much.”

“I need you to tell me everything you know.”

“You…” I glanced up at him. “You were there, though, weren’t you?”