Текст книги "Taken by Midnight"
Автор книги: Lara Adrian
Соавторы: Lara Adrian
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Her voice, when she finally found it, held the barest tremor. “What is it?”
“We’re not sure,” Gideon replied gently. He brought up another X ray. “This one was taken twenty-four hours later. You can just make out the threadlike tendrils that have begun to spread outward from the object.”
As Jenna looked, she felt Alex’s fingers tighten around her own. Another image came up on-screen, and in this one, the tendrils extending from the brightly glowing object appeared to lace into her spinal column.
“Oh, God,” she whispered, reaching up with her free hand to feel the skin at her nape. She pressed hard and almost gagged to register the faint ridge of whatever it was embedded inside her. “He did this to me?”
Life … or death?
The choice is yours, Jenna Tucker-Darrow.
The creature’s words came back to her now, along with the recollection of his self-inflicted wound, the nearly indiscernible object he’d plucked from within his own flesh.
Life, or death?
Choose.
“He put something inside me,” she murmured.
The slight unsteadiness she’d felt a few moments ago came back with a vengeance. Her knees buckled, but before she ended up on the floor, Brock and Alex each had an arm, lending her their support. As terrible as it was, Jenna could not tear her eyes away from the X ray that filled the screen overhead.
“Oh, my God,” she moaned. “What the hell did that monster do to me?”
Lucan stared at her. “That’s what we intend to find out.”
CHAPTER
Two
Standing in the corridor outside the infirmary room a couple of minutes later, Brock and the other warriors watched as Alex sat down on the edge of the bed and quietly comforted her friend. Jenna didn’t break down or crumble. She let Alex wrap her in a tender embrace, but Jenna’s hazel eyes remained dry, staring straight ahead, her expression unreadable, glazed with the stillness of shock.
Gideon cleared his throat, breaking the silence as he glanced away from the infirmary door’s small window. “That went well. Considering.”
Brock grunted. “Considering she just came out of a five-day Rip van Winkle to learn that her brother is dead, she’s been leeched by the granddaddy of all bloodsuckers, brought here against her will—and oh, by the way, we’ve found something embedded in your spinal cord that probably didn’t originate on this planet, so congratulations, on top of all that, there’s a good chance you’re part Borg now.” He exhaled a dry curse. “Jesus, this is messed up.”
“Yeah, it is,” Lucan said. “But it would be a hell of a lot worse if we didn’t have the situation contained. Right now, all we need to do is keep the female calm and under close observation until we gain a better understanding of the implant itself and what, if anything, it could mean to us. Not to mention the fact that the Ancient must have had a reason for placing the material inside her in the first place. That’s a question that begs an answer. Sooner than later.”
Brock nodded in agreement with the rest of his brethren. It was only a slight movement, yet the flexing of his neck muscles set off a fresh round of pain in his skull. He pressed his fingers into his temples, waiting for the knifelike agony to pass.
Beside him, Kade frowned, jet-black brows furrowing over his wolfy, silver eyes. “You okay?”
“Peachy,” Brock muttered, irritated by the public show of concern, even though it was coming from the one warrior who was as tight as a brother to him. And even though the hard stab of Jenna’s trauma was shredding him from the inside out, Brock merely shrugged. “No big thing, just par for the course.”
“You’ve been eating that female’s pain for almost a week straight,” Lucan reminded him. “If you need a break—”
Brock hissed a low curse. “Nothing wrong with me that a few hours back out on patrols tonight won’t cure.”
His gaze strayed to the small panel of clear glass that looked in on the infirmary room. Like all of the Breed, Brock was gifted with an ability unique to himself. His talent for absorbing human pain and suffering had helped keep Jenna comfortable since her ordeal in Alaska, but his skills were just a Band-Aid at best.
Now that she was conscious and able to provide the Order with whatever information they needed about her time with the Ancient and the alien material embedded inside her, Jenna Darrow’s problems were her own.
“There’s something more you all need to know about the female,” Brock said as he watched her carefully swing her bare legs over the edge of the bed and stand up. He tried not to notice how the white hospital gown rode halfway up her thighs in the instant before her feet touched the floor. Instead he focused on how readily she found her balance. After five days of lying flat on her back in an unnatural sleep, her muscles absorbed her weight with only the smallest tremor of instability. “She’s stronger than she should be. She can walk without help, and a few minutes ago, when it was just Alex and me in the room with her, Jenna was getting agitated about wanting to see her brother. I went to touch her and calm her down, and she deflected my hand. Tossed me off like no big thing.”
Kade’s brows rose. “Forgetting the fact that you’re Breed and have the reflexes to go along with it, you’ve also got about a hundred pounds on that female.”
“My point exactly.” Brock glanced back at Lucan and the others. “I don’t think she realized the significance of what she’d done, but there’s no mistaking the power she threw at me without really trying.”
“Jesus,” Lucan whispered tightly, his jaw rigid.
“Her pain is stronger now than it has been before, too,” Brock added. “I don’t know what’s going on, but everything about her seems to be intensifying now that she’s awake.”
Lucan’s scowl deepened as he glanced at Gideon. “We’re certain she’s human, and not a Breedmate?”
“Just your basic Homo sapiens stock,” the Order’s resident genius confirmed. “I asked Alexandra to conduct a visual scan of her friend’s skin right after they arrived from Alaska. There was no teardrop-and-crescent-moon birthmark anywhere on Jenna’s body. As for blood work and DNA, all of the samples I took came back clear, as well. In fact, I’ve been running tests every twenty-four hours, and there’s been nothing notable. Everything about the woman to this point—aside from the presence of the implant—has been perfectly mundane.”
Mundane? Brock barely refrained from scoffing at the inadequate word. Of course, neither Gideon nor any of the other warriors had been present for the head-to-toe body search performed on Jenna upon her arrival at the compound. She’d been racked with pain, drifting in and out of consciousness from the time Brock, Kade, Alex, and the rest of the team who’d joined them in Alaska had made the trip back home to Boston.
Given that he was the only one who could level her out, Brock had been drafted to stay at Jenna’s side and keep the situation under control as best as it could be. His role was supposed to have been purely professional, clinical and detached. A specialized tool kept close at hand in case of an emergency.
Yet he’d had a startlingly unprofessional response to the sight of Jenna’s unclothed body. It had been five days ago, but he remembered every exposed inch of her ivory skin as though he were looking at it again now, and his pulse kicked at the memory.
He recalled every smooth curve and sloping valley, every little mole, every scar—from the ghost of a c-section incision on her abdomen, to the smattering of healed puncture wounds and lacerations that peppered her torso and forearms, telling him she’d already come through hell and back at least once before.
And he’d been anything but clinical and detached when Jenna lapsed into a sudden convulsion of agony in the moments after Alex had finished searching in vain for a birthmark signifying that her friend was a Breedmate like the other women who lived at the Order’s compound. He’d placed his hands on both sides of her neck and drawn the pain away from her, all too aware of how soft and delicate her skin was beneath his fingertips. He fisted his hands at the thought as it rose up on him now.
He didn’t need to be thinking about the woman, naked or otherwise. Except now that he’d gone there, he could think of damned little else. And when she glanced up and caught his gaze through the glass of the little window in the door, an unbidden heat went through him like a flaming arrow.
Desire was bad enough, but it was the odd sense of protectiveness serving as a chaser that really threw him off kilter. The feeling had begun in Alaska, when he and the other warriors first found her. It hadn’t faded in the days she’d been at the compound. If anything, the feeling had only gotten stronger, watching her fight and struggle through the strange sleep that had kept her unconscious since she’d come out of her ordeal with the Ancient in Alaska.
Her frank gaze still held his from across the infirmary: cautious, almost suspicious. There was no weakness in her eyes, nor in the slight tilt of her chin. Jenna Darrow was clearly a strong female, despite all she’d been through, and he found himself wishing she’d been a mess of tears and hysteria instead of the cool, in-control woman whose unflinching stare refused to let him go.
She was calm and stoic, as brave as she was beautiful, and it sure as hell wasn’t making her less intriguing to him.
“When was the last time you ran blood work and DNA?” Lucan asked, the grave, low-voiced question giving Brock something else to focus on.
Gideon pushed back his shirtsleeve to check his watch. “I drew the last sample about seven hours ago.”
Lucan grunted as he pivoted away from the infirmary door. “Run everything again now. If the readings have changed so much as an iota from the last sample, I want to hear about it.”
Gideon’s blond head bobbed. “Given what Brock has told us, I’d also like to take some strength and endurance measurements. Any information we can gather from studying Jenna could be crucial to figuring out what exactly we’re dealing with here.”
“Whatever you need,” Lucan said grimly. “Just get it done, and fast. This situation is important, but we also can’t afford to lose momentum on our other missions.”
Brock inclined his head along with the other warriors, knowing as well as any of them that a human in the compound was a complication the Order didn’t need when they still had an enemy on the loose—namely Dragos, a corrupt Breed elder whom the Order had been pursuing for the better part of a year.
Dragos had been working in secret for many decades, under more than one assumed identity and within clandestine, powerful alliances. His operation had grown numerous and long-reaching tentacles, as the warriors were discovering, and every one of those grasping arms was working in concert toward a single objective: Dragos’s complete and total domination over both the Breed and humankind alike.
The Order’s primary goal was his destruction and the swift, permanent dismantling of his entire operation. The Order meant to take Dragos out at the roots. But there were complications to that goal. He had all but vanished recently, and there were, as always, layers of protection in front of him—secret allies within the Breed nation, maybe outside of it, too. Dragos also had an unnumbered army of skilled assassins at his command, every one of them born and bred specifically for killing. Deadly Breed males who were direct progeny of the otherworlder who, until his escape to Alaska a few weeks ago and subsequent death, had been under Dragos’s command.
Brock glanced into the infirmary room where Jenna had begun to pace back and forth like a caged animal. To say the Order had their hands full at the moment was putting it mildly. Now that she was awake, at least his part was over. His talent had seen Jenna through the past week; where she went from here would be up to Gideon and Lucan to decide.
Inside the room, Alex pivoted away from her friend and approached the door. She opened it and stepped out to the corridor, her brown eyes soft with concern under the dark blond bangs that fringed her forehead.
“How’s she doing?” Kade asked, moving toward his woman as though gravity pulled him there. They were a newly mated pair, having met during Kade’s mission in Alaska, but looking at the warrior and his pretty bush pilot Breedmate, it seemed impossible to Brock that they had only been together for a couple of weeks. “Does Jenna need anything, babe?”
“She’s confused and upset, understandably,” Alex said, moving into the shelter of Kade’s body just as he had done with her. “I think she’ll feel better after a long shower and some fresh clothes. She says she feels stir crazy in the room and wants to take a walk to stretch some of the tightness out of her legs. I told her I would ask if it was all right.”
Alex looked to Lucan as she said it, directing the request to the Order’s oldest member, its founder and leader.
“Jenna is not a prisoner here,” he replied. “Of course she is free to wash and dress and walk around.”
“Thank you,” Alex said, gratitude brightening some of the uncertainty in her eyes. “I told her she wouldn’t be kept here as a prisoner, but she didn’t seem to believe me. After what she’s been through, I guess that’s not surprising. I’ll go tell her what you said, Lucan.”
As she turned to slip back into the infirmary, the Order’s leader cleared his throat. Kade’s mate slowed and swung a glance over her shoulder, some of the wind already leaving her sails as she met Lucan’s stern look. “Jenna is free to walk about and do most anything she likes—so long as someone is with her, and so long as she doesn’t try to leave the compound. See that she has whatever she needs. When she’s ready for her walk around the compound, Brock will take her. I’m putting him in charge of her well-being. He’ll make sure Jenna doesn’t lose her way.”
Brock had to work to bite back the curse that rose to his tongue.
Just frigging great, he thought, wanting like hell to reject the continued assignment that would keep him in close quarters with Jenna Darrow.
Instead he acknowledged Lucan’s order with a nod.
CHAPTER
Three
Jenna’s hands were fisted as she shoved them deep into the pockets of the belted, white terry robe that covered her thin hospital gown. Her feet swam in the new, but extra-large, man-size slippers Alex had retrieved out of a cabinet drawer in the infirmary room where Jenna had awakened less than an hour ago. She shuffled beside her friend, walking along a lighted, marble-white corridor that snaked and twisted in a seemingly endless maze of similar walkways.
Jenna felt oddly numb, not just from the shock of hearing that her brother was dead but from the fact that the nightmare she’d awakened from had not ended with her survival. The creature that had attacked her in her cabin might have been killed, as she’d been informed, but she wasn’t free of its hold.
After what she saw in the X-ray images and on the video feed from the infirmary, she knew with a bone-deep dread that part of that fanged monster still held her in its ruthless grasp. She should be screaming in terror for that knowledge alone. Deep down, fear and grief roiled. She clamped a hard lid on her bubbling hysteria, refusing to show that kind of weakness, even to her best friend.
But there was a true calmness inside her, one that had been with her in the infirmary room—since the moment Brock had put his hands on her and promised she was safe. It was that reassurance as well as her own determination to soldier on that kept her from breaking down as she walked the labyrinth of corridors with Alex.
“We’re almost there,” Alex said as she led Jenna around another corner, toward another long stretch of gleaming hallway. “I thought you’d be more comfortable getting cleaned up and dressed in Kade’s and my quarters rather than the infirmary.”
Jenna managed a vague nod, although it was hard to imagine that she might be comfortable anywhere in this strange and unfamiliar place. She walked cautiously, her rusty cop instincts prickling as she passed unmarked room after unmarked room. There wasn’t a single exterior window in the place, nothing to indicate where the facility was located, nor what might lie beyond its walls. No way to tell even whether it was day or night outside.
Above her head, tracking the length of this corridor like the others, small black domes concealed what she guessed must be surveillance cameras. It was all very state-of-the-art, very private, and very secure.
“What is this place, some kind of government building?” she asked, voicing her suspicions out loud. “Definitely not civilian. Is it some kind of military facility?”
Alex slid her a hesitant, measuring glance. “It’s more secure than any of those things. We’re about thirty stories belowground, not far outside the city of Boston.”
“A bunker, then,” Jenna guessed, still trying to make sense of it all. “If it’s not part of the government or military, what is it?”
Alex seemed to consider her reply for a moment longer than was needed. “The compound we’re in, and the gated estate that sits above us on street level, belongs to the Order.”
“The Order,” Jenna repeated, finding that Alex’s explanation was raising more questions about the place than it answered. She’d never been anywhere like this before. It was alien in its high-tech design, a far cry from anything she’d ever seen in rural Alaska or any of the places she’d been in the Lower Forty-eight.
Adding to the strangeness, beneath her slippered feet, the polished white marble was inlaid with glossy black stone that made a running pattern of odd symbols along the floor—arcing flourishes and complex geometric shapes that somewhat resembled tribal tattoos.
Dermaglyphs.
The word leapt into her thoughts out of nowhere, an answer to a question she didn’t even know to ask. It was an unfamiliar word, as unfamiliar as everything about this place and the people who apparently lived here. And yet the certainty with which her mind supplied the term made it feel as though she must have thought or said it thousands of times.
Impossible.
“Jenna, are you all right?” Alex paused in the corridor a couple of steps ahead of where Jenna’s own feet had ceased moving. “Are you tired? We can rest for a minute, if you need to.”
“No. I’m okay.” She felt a frown creasing her forehead as she glanced up from the intricate design on the smooth floor. “I’m just … confused.”
And that was due to more than just the peculiarity of where she found herself now. Everything felt different to her, even her own body. Some part of her intellect knew that after five days unconscious in a sickbed, she probably should be exhausted from even the short distance she’d just walked.
Muscles didn’t naturally rebound from that kind of inactivity without a bit of pain and retraining. She knew that from her own personal experience, from the accident four years ago that had put her in the hospital ICU in Fairbanks. The same accident that had killed her husband and young daughter.
Jenna remembered all too well the weeks of hard rehabilitation it had taken to get her back on her feet and walking again. And yet now, after the ordeal she’d just awakened from, her limbs felt steady and nimble. Completely unaffected by the prolonged lack of use.
Her body felt oddly revived. Stronger, yet, somehow not quite her own.
“None of this makes sense to me,” she murmured, as she and Alex continued their progress down the long corridor.
“Oh, Jen.” Alex touched her shoulder with a gentle hand. “I know about the confusion you must be feeling right now. Believe me, I know. I wish none of this had happened to you. I wish there was some way to take back what you’ve gone through.”
Jenna blinked slowly, registering the depth of her friend’s regret. She had questions—so many questions—but as they walked deeper into the maze of corridors, the mingled sounds of voices carried out from a glass-walled room up ahead. She heard Brock’s deep, rolling baritone and the lighter, quickly spoken, British-tinged syllables of the man named Gideon.
As she and Alex neared the meeting room, she saw that the one called Lucan was there, too, as were Kade and two others who only fortified the large-and-lethal vibe that these guys seemed to wear as casually as their black fatigues and well-stocked weapons belts.
“This is the tech lab,” Alex explained to her. “All the computer equipment you see in there is Gideon’s domain. Kade says he’s some kind of genius when it comes to technology. Probably a genius when it comes to just about everything.”
As they paused in the passageway, Kade glanced up and gave Alex a lingering look through the glass. Electricity crackled in his silver eyes, and Jenna would have to be unconscious in her sickbed not to feel the shared heat between Alex and her man.
Jenna got her own share of looks from the others gathered in the glass-enclosed room. Lucan and Gideon both turned her way, as did two other big men who were not familiar to her. One of them a severe-looking, golden-eyed blond whose stare felt as cold and unfeeling as a blade, the other an olive-skinned man with a thick crown of chocolate-brown waves that accentuated his long-lashed topaz eyes and an unfortunate mass of scars that riddled the left side of his otherwise flawless face. There was curiosity in the men’s frank stares, maybe a bit of suspicion, too.
“That’s Hunter and Rio,” Alex said, indicating the menacing blond and the scarred brunet respectively. “They’re members of the Order, too.”
Jenna gave a vague nod of acknowledgment, feeling as conspicuous in front of these men as she had her first day on the job with the Alaska State Troopers, a fresh-from-the-academy rookie and a female besides. But here, the feeling wasn’t so much about gender discrimination or petty male insecurities. She’d known enough of that bullshit during her tenure with the Staties to realize this was something different. Something a whole lot deeper.
Here, she felt that by virtue of her mere presence, she was treading on sacred ground. In some unspoken way, she got the sense from the five pairs of eyes studying her that in this place, among these people, she was somehow the ultimate outsider.
Even Brock’s dark, absorbing gaze settled on her with a weighty appraisal that seemed to say he wasn’t sure he liked seeing her there, regardless of the care and kindness he’d shown her back in the infirmary.
Jenna wouldn’t have argued that point for a second. She tended to agree with the vibe she was getting through the glass walls of the tech lab. She didn’t belong here. These were not her people.
No, something about each of the hard, unreadable faces fixed on her told her that they were not her kind at all. They were something else … something other.
But after what she’d been through in her cabin in Alaska—after what she’d seen of herself in the infirmary room—could she even be certain of what she was now?
The question chilled her to her bones.
She didn’t want to think about it. Could hardly bear to accept that she’d been fed upon by something as monstrous and terrifying as the creature that had held her prisoner in her own home all those hours. The same creature that had implanted the bit of foreign matter in her body and turned her life—what little had been left of it—inside out.
What was to become of her now?
How would she ever get back to the woman she was before?
Jenna nearly sagged under the weight of more questions she wasn’t ready to consider.
Making it worse, the sense of confusion that had followed her through the corridors of the compound rose up on her again, stronger now. Everything seemed to amplify around her, from the soft buzz of the fluorescent lights over her head—lights that glared too bright for her sensitive eyes—to the accelerating drum of her heartbeat that seemed to be heading for overdrive, pushing too much blood through her veins. Her skin felt too tight, wrapped around a body that was quickening with some strange new awareness. She had felt its stirrings from the moment she’d opened her eyes in the infirmary, and instead of leveling out, it was getting worse.
Some strange new power seemed to be growing inside her.
Stretching out, awakening …
“I’m feeling kind of weird,” she said to Alex, as her temples ticked with the pound of her pulse, her palms going moist where they remained fisted deep inside the pockets of her robe. “I think I need to get out of here, get some air.”
Alex reached out and brushed a strand of hair from Jenna’s face. “Kade’s and my quarters are just up this way. You’re going to feel much better after a hot shower, I’m sure.”
“Okay,” Jenna murmured, allowing herself to be guided away from the glass wall of the tech lab and the unnerving stares that followed her.
Several yards ahead in the curving hallway, a pair of elevator doors slid open. Three women walked out wearing snow-dusted winter parkas and wet boots. They were followed by a similarly bundled-up young girl who held a pair of dogs on leashes—a small, exuberant mutt terrier and Alex’s regal gray-and-white wolfdog, Luna, which had apparently also made the recent move from Alaska to Boston.
As soon as Luna’s sharp blue eyes lit on Alex and Jenna, she lunged forward. The girl who held the leash let out a little yelp, more giggle than anything, her parka hood falling back and freeing a mop of blond hair to bounce around her delicate face.
“Hi, Alex!” she said, laughing as Luna pulled her along the corridor in her wake. “We just got back from a walk outside. It’s freezing up there!”
Reaching out to pet Luna’s big head and neck, Alex gave the child a welcoming smile. “Thanks for taking her. I know she likes being with you, Mira.”
The little girl bobbed her head enthusiastically. “I like Luna, too. So does Harvard.”
Whether in protest or agreement, the scrappy-looking terrier barked once and danced frenetically around the larger dog’s legs, stubby tail wagging about sixty miles an hour.
“Hello,” said one of the three women. “I’m Gabrielle. It’s good to see you up and around, Jenna.”
“I’m sorry,” Alex interjected, rising to make quick introductions. “Jenna, Gabrielle is Lucan’s Breedmate.”
“Hi.” Jenna brought her hand out of her robe pocket and extended it in greeting to the pretty auburn-haired young woman. Beside Gabrielle, a striking African-American woman offered a warm smile as she extended her hand in welcome.
“I’m Savannah,” she said, her voice like velvet and cream, instantly making Jenna feel at home. “I’m sure you’ve already met Gideon, my mate.”
Jenna nodded, feeling ill-equipped for pleasantries despite the warmth of the other women.
“And this is Tess,” Alex added, indicating the last of the trio, a heavily pregnant blonde with tranquil, sea-green eyes that seemed wise beyond their years. “She and her mate, Dante, are expecting their son very soon.”
“Just a few more weeks,” Tess said as she briefly clasped Jenna’s hand, her other coming to rest lightly on the large swell of her belly. “We’ve all been very concerned about you since you arrived here, Jenna. Do you need anything? If there’s something we can do for you, I hope you’ll let us know.”
“Can you zap me back in time about a week?” Jenna asked, only half joking. “I’d really love to erase the past several days and go back to my life in Alaska. Can anyone here do that for me?”
An uneasy look passed between the women.
“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” Gabrielle said. Although regret softened her expression, Lucan’s mate spoke with the serene confidence of a woman cognizant of her own authority but disinclined to abuse it. “What you’ve been through is terrible, Jenna, but the only way through it is forward. I am sorry.”
“No sorrier than me,” Jenna said quietly.
Alex murmured a few hushed words of good-bye to the other women. Then she scratched Luna behind the ears and gave the wolfdog a quick kiss on the snout before navigating Jenna back toward their trek up the passageway. Somewhere in the distance, Jenna picked up the harsh grate of metal striking metal, and the muffled sounds of laughter amid a spirited conversation—by the tone of it, a good, old-fashioned pissing contest—between at least one woman and no less than three men.
Jenna shuffled alongside Alex as they turned a corner in the corridor and the din of voices and weaponry faded away. “How many people live here?”
Alex cocked her head, considering. “The Order has ten members right now who live here at the compound. All but Brock, Hunter, and Chase are mated, so that makes seven of us Breedmates, plus Mira.”
“Eighteen people in total,” Jenna said, absently counting them off in her mind.
“Nineteen now,” Alex corrected, as she slanted a gauging look over her shoulder.
“I’m temporary,” Jenna said, walking along, up another length of marble hallway, then pausing behind Alex as she slowed in front of an unmarked door. “As soon as one of your new secret agent pals figures out how to get rid of the thing in my neck, I’ll be leaving. I don’t belong here, Alex. My life is in Alaska.”
The way Alex’s sympathetic smile wavered on her lips put a lurch in Jenna’s pulse.
“Well, here we are.” She opened the door to a private apartment and motioned Jenna inside. She walked ahead of her and turned on a table lamp, filling the spacious quarters with a muted glow. Alex seemed anxious somehow, walking through the place like a whirlwind and talking too fast. “I want you to make yourself at home, Jen. Relax for a minute in the living room, if you like. I’ll get you some fresh clothes and start the shower for you. Unless you’d rather close your eyes for a little while? I could give you one of Kade’s T-shirts to sleep in and turn down the bed for you.”
“Alex.”
She disappeared into the adjacent bedroom, still talking a mile a minute. “Are you hungry? Would you like me to fix you something to eat?”
Jenna walked over to the open doorway. “Tell me what’s going on here. I mean, what’s really going on.”
Finally, Alex paused.
She pivoted her head around and just stared for what felt like a full minute of silence.
