A few minutes tick by and then I hear the lock on the door click. Nichelle enters wearing black pants and a shirt with her hair pulled back. She looks like she’s cleaned up, smiling at me as she shuts the door.
“Hi, Kayla.” She acts as if she’s innocent and hasn’t done anything wrong.
Anger fires through me and I hop off the cot and storm towards her, ready to beat the shit out of her. “Don’t ‘hi, Kayla’ me.”
She pulls out a long knife and aims it out in front of her. “Relax and let me explain.”
I stop a few feet in front of her, eyeing the knife in her hand, knowing I could stop her from stabbing me if I really wanted to. “Explain what? How you lied to us; tricked us into believing you, only to lock us up?”
She keeps her knife pointed out and steps back, putting space between us. “That’s not how it is. This was only a precaution to make sure that there’s no chance that any of you will attack our people.”
I can feel the truth radiating from her, but I’m still skeptical. Plus, I’m still not over the fact that she stabbed me with a needle. “If that’s true, then why did I see a Higher with you earlier?”
Her brows dip. “A Higher? I’m not sure what you mean. There are no Highers here.”
Anger consumes me. I ball my hands into fists. “I saw him before I was injected and knocked unconscious.”
She shakes her head and opens her mouth, ready to speak, but we’re interrupted when the door creaks open and a man walks in. His hair is white like the outer part of ash, he has creases in his skin and his clothes looks old. He carries a stick that he leans on, as he hobbles as if it’s hard for him to walk, yet his pale eyes make me wonder if it’s all a trick.
I’ve lost all my trust, and in a flash, I lunge forward, snatching the knife from Nichelle’s hand and quickly skittering around her. Then, I dive for the Higher, grab his arm, and twist it behind him as I move around him, putting the blade to his throat.
He drops his stick in a panic. “Oh, no.”
“Kayla, no!” Nichelle shouts with her hands out in front of her. “Don’t hurt him.”
The Higher tips his head back and looks up at me and I’m surprised by his fearless expression. “Well done, Kayla. Monarch has turned you into exactly what he had hoped for.”
I press the knife closer to his throat, but he still keeps calm. “Then you know that I’m not afraid to use this to finish you off.”
“I’m sure you aren’t, but I’m not a Higher,” he says evenly. “I’m just an old man that was bitten a long time ago.”
I don’t want to believe him, yet my little gift lets me know that he is telling the truth, even though it’s confusing the shit out of me—everything is. “What are you then? You have the eyes of a Higher.”
Nichelle inches closer to us, her hands still out in front of her, her movements calculated and cautious. “Kayla, please put the knife down. This is Mathew and he’s here to help you.”
Mathew motions his hands at Nichelle, ushering her back. “It is okay, Nichelle. Kayla has a good reason to not trust us. We didn’t exactly give her and her friends the best welcome, did we?”
A trickle of blood runs down his throat from where the blade is pressing. With reluctance, I remove the knife from his neck and back away, letting him go. I have my answer; if he really were a Higher, he would not be bleeding, he would heal. I shove him over next to Nichelle and she catches him in her arms.
“Both of you better explain where my friends are and what is going on,” I demand.
Nichelle shoots me a glare as she examines Mathew’s neck while he fights to get his footing. “Are you okay?” she asks him and he nods.
Nichelle still checks the wound then pulls out a cloth from her pocket and hands it to him. Mathew takes the cloth as he picks up the stick and puts his weight against it. Then he presses cloth over the wound to stop it from bleeding.
As I watch them, I can tell that there is a bond between the two of them, almost like Nichelle treats Mathew as if he is her father.
“You are good at what you do,” he says to me. “And I’ll explain everything I know. But first, how about I take you to the rest of your friends? I’m sure that they’re just as anxious to see you as you are to see them.”
Again, I know he speaks the truth, but for some reason, I feel wary. Still, having no other choice, I nod and follow him out the door with the knife clutched in my hand, not ready to fully trust them just yet.
Chapter 12
They take me down a hallway and into a large room, keeping close to me like they think I’m going to run or something. Inside the room sits a wooden table with chairs down both sides of it. There are no windows and the only light comes from the candles placed sporadically about, the flames flickering and dancing.
Leaning his weight on his stick, Mathew limps to the end of the table and takes a seat. He motions for me to take a seat next to him as he sets the stick down on the ground. “Please, have a seat.”
I waver, looking around at the empty room while hovering near the door. “I thought you said we were going to meet the others?” I still have the knife, holding it out to the side, and Mathew eyes it with interest.
“You don’t have to worry about it, Kayla. It’s okay to put the knife away; we aren’t going to hurt you.” He smiles at me as he crosses his arms on the table. “I’ve sent for someone to bring your friends here.”
I plaster a fake smile on. “I think I’ll simply hold onto it, just in case.” I select a spot at the table a ways away from him and pull out a chair, sinking down into it. Nichelle goes to the opposite side of the table and takes a seat right next to Mathew. We wait in silence, eyeing each other down; Mathew trying to look comforting while Nichelle looks annoyed.
Finally, the door opens and a man enters with Greyson and Aiden to the side of him. They both look confused, looking around, but show no signs of being harmed. Aiden doesn’t have his hood on and his hands are out, making me wonder if they came from inside the building or if darkness has arrived
“Please, have a seat,” Mathew says, gesturing at the table.
Aiden’s eyes land on me and he rushes over to sit beside me while Greyson walks to the other side of the table and takes a seat opposite of Mathew.
“Where’s Maci?” I ask Aiden.
“They patched her up and she’s resting in a room,” he answers, staring Mathew down with a cold, hard glare. “Who’s the old guy?”