Текст книги "Sweet Temptation"

Автор книги: Wendy Higgins

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 25 страниц)

CHAPTER TWO

Strange Girl

“My devil loves your angel, you can’t take that away . . .

See if she’ll take her halo off, if only for today.”

—“Devil’s Love Song” by Tishamingo

I am still pissed off when I get to the club. When we parted this evening, Father’s face was tight as he reminded me it’s now May and the child will be arriving soon. In the two months since I turned seventeen and showed defiance about the young girl, Father has been pushing me. Testing me. Nothing is good enough.

We stand backstage and Raj is adding more gel to his fauxhawk, staring in the mirror and pinching the tips of his hair. His eyes are bloodshot from the spliff he just smoked. “What’s wrong with you?” he asks.

I shake my head and look away. I can’t exactly tell him my father’s a demon, that he expects me to do horrible things. No humans know what I really am.

I’m still trying to scrub the image of the enslaved girl from my mind as we take the stage. It does me no good to think about her, or the hundreds of others like her who I’ve hurt already.

Don’t feel.

Don’t think.

Don’t acknowledge it’s real. Just go through the motions, like always.

I slide onto my stool and twirl the drumsticks, savoring the familiar feel of the cool, smooth wood between my fingers. Deep breaths. Time to clear my head in the only way I know how. Sitting behind the drums, I am myself. The real me. Even during sex I cannot completely let go—I am hyperaware. Music is the only way.

I look out at the packed house. Girls screaming, jumping up and down in front of the stage. Loads of skin on show.

This I can do.

Starting with feather taps and working my way across the set, I rip a line of beats to warm up. Immediately the energy in the room changes, heightens. Conversations hush and heads turn toward the stage, then voices buzz back to life louder than before. A wicked beat can change the entire atmosphere in a room. Michael, feeling it too, shoots me a grin before checking his cords and mic. I feel eyes on me, heating my blood. Yeah, a good beat is sexy. Makes people wanna move their bodies . . . their hips. . . .

Plain vanilla my arse.

Damn it. I have to stop thinking about that.

Michael throws his strap over a shoulder, electric guitar slung low. He picks off a few notes, eyeing Raj on bass until they both nod, satisfied with the sync.

When we’re set, Michael motions the DJ, who tells the room to give it up for Lascivious. And they do. Nice and loud.

I purposely don’t eye the energized crowd as Michael takes to the mic with the welcome. I have to focus. Can’t be distracted by all the chicks and their curves.

Michael gives me the go with a flick of his chin and I raise the sticks above my head to count us in.

“One, two, three, four!” Bam.

First song is high energy, throwing me into a chop out and ending with muscle burn. All the shit in my life disappears and there’s only the creation of beats—beats that vibrate from soul to soul across the room, bringing flesh to life, every cell thumping in a rhythm they can barely contain. We’re on fire.

I imagine joy is something akin to this. Just letting go.

My forehead is already damp by the end of the first song. I push my hair aside and get set for the second song, which begins slower.

When the room settles I start on the warm cymbal, a shushing buildup to a quiet beat. Michael always makes it to second base with the microphone when he sings this ballad bit. And then the real fun begins—dramatic silent pause and stillness, followed by a raw, all-out punishment of the drums, screamed lyrics, and a high-decibel refrain loud enough to rip the rafters from the roof.

This is The Zone. The place where I can truly breathe.

My body takes over, and hit after hit falls just right until the crash of the cymbals. I whirl the drumsticks over my head with a flourish, then tuck them under my arm.

Damn, what a rush. I feel good. Focused. Until my stupid hair catches in my eyes and I can’t blink it away. I swat it aside. We have a minute before the next song while Michael bullshits with the fans a bit, keeping them worked up.

Two girls in front shout my name. Mother Nature has blessed them both with perfect tits, and they, in turn, bless us all by wearing tiny shirts. Such kindness deserves a grin. Maybe they’ll make it backstage later. I shift on the stool as I imagine it.

Argh. Stay focused.

The third song begins. Raj picks the tune on his bass line, and then I come in strong, willing myself to get lost in the intricate details. When it ends I quiet the tinging cymbals between my fingers. With a tilt of my head I flick the hair from my eyes and grab my water bottle from the floor.

I scan the crowd, attempting not to check out the gorgeous cleavage display for the time being, hoping to avoid the faces of a few girls who’ve been stalking me. But my scanning skids to a halt at the sight of a fresh-faced blonde staring right at me. She’s a complete doll with a wild mane of long hair and a spicy red aura. But the bit I notice next sends an iced razor down my spine.

Bloody hell . . . is that a badge on her chest? I stare in disbelief at the small, round supernatural burst of light emanating from the core of her torso. It isn’t black like most badges—it’s a dark yellow swirled with white. I’m suddenly stiff and on guard, imagining the knife in the ankle of my left boot. I search around the strange girl, looking for a possible guardian angel, but she has none.

Shit. A bloody fucking Neph is at my gig. Sent by my father, no doubt.

SHIT!

I try to swallow but can’t, so I force down a few gulps of water. For half a moment I forget where the fuck I am. Then Michael is giving me the go for the next song. I drop the bottle to the floor and pull the sticks from under my arm.

I’ve lost all focus. I don’t know how I stay on beat. I glance over to keep an eye on the Neph, but she’s gone, pushing her way through the crowd. What is she up to? It takes every ounce of self-control not to abandon the band and follow her. She goes into the loo, but it’s likely a ruse. I thought I knew every Neph close to my age, but I’ve never seen her. I’d remember that face. That hair.

I silently curse the song for being so long, but at least it’s our last before the next band comes on. I shove my auditory senses over the massive crowd and straight into the girls’ loo. I listen, trying to make sense of the silly conversation while thrashing out the backbone of the song.

“I heard that guy Kaidan has gonorrhea.”

I miss a beat and my bandmates shoot me questioning glares. I can’t remember the last time I’ve dicked up a song, but I’m too concentrated on the bathroom drama.

Gonorrhea?

Clearly the Neph is trying to keep the other girls from coming backstage to meet me. Fewer obstacles in her way as she attempts to find me and . . . do what? Kill me? Test me somehow for Father and the other Dukes?

And now what is she going on about? She’s taking back what she’d said about me and apologizing? What the . . . ? This doesn’t make a bit of sense.

Finally the blasted song is wrapping up and I can put an end to this rubbish.

The blond Neph heads back into the club just as we’re rushed off the platform. I keep my hearing tight around the girl as I walk backstage. She meets up with some guy called Jay. Their conversation sounds ordinary. She’s a good actress, but she can’t fool me.

Anna. He calls her Anna.

Jay is taking “Anna” backstage. Perfect. I feel the weight of my knife in my boot as Michael, Raj, and Bennett high-five down the hall and bump shoulders next to me.

Time to play, little Neph.

Ah, cripe. Three local models are waiting for me backstage. I forgot I’d invited them. My mind is too preoccupied to fully appreciate the females encircling me as I sense the Anna girl walking in with two human boys.

The girl next to me lifts a cigarette. I have a matchbook out of my pocket and lit before she can reach for her lighter—a pub talent I’d perfected at age fourteen after seeing my father do it. But I can’t pretend to be more interested in the girls—I’m too distracted by Anna as I watch her human boys leave her there, looking out of place and uncomfortable in her own skin. And her aura! Her emotions are on display all around her. Why the hell is she letting them show like that? Some sort of trick to confuse me, no doubt. Can you trick your body into displaying false emotions?

The models chat me up and I reply absently, but I can’t for the life of me take my eyes off Anna. And then she raises her eyes to mine, giving my pulse a punch.

Her aura goes berserk, and she drops her eyes abruptly, as if shy. As if. Does she think I’m a fool? She looks back up, and I swear she appears terrified, which irks the hell out of me. She thinks she can play me? Balls to the wall. Time for confrontation.

A slender hand grabs my arm and calls my name in a whine. I raise an index finger and excuse myself.

The Neph’s eyes dart all around as I approach, which only makes me stare harder. What is the point of this frightened, innocent act? I don’t know what she’s playing at but she’s about to lose.

Finally she holds my eyes, locked.

“Who are you?” I ask.

Her mouth pops open. “I’m . . . Anna?”

Trying to be cute, eh? Not buying it. But damn, she is cute. Fifteen. Maybe sixteen. Legs and arms are a bit too thin in the denim skirt and tank top, but she’ll fill out as she gets older, no doubt. Her long, honeyed hair falls smoothly to her waist and her face has lovely symmetry. Brown eyes that tip slightly downward at the corners. Small nose. Rosebud lips. The wholesome, all-natural look is quite brilliant if she’s trying to put me at ease, but I’m not buying it.

“Right. Anna. How very nice.” I lean closer. “But who are you?”

“I just came with my friend Jay?”

She begins to babble and fidget as I stare at her nervous aura and that amber-and-white-swirled badge at her lower chest. I’ve never seen a Duke with an amber badge, and white is unheard of—the light of angels. Anna crosses her arms where I’m staring and I look up.

Her lips are pursed like she’s offended . . . and she has the loveliest beauty mark at the top edge of her lips. God, I want to touch it . . . to kiss her mouth and lick that dark freckle. Naturally, that thought leads to imagining her naked, silky hair falling all around her. She wouldn’t be able to keep up the innocent act in bed with me. I’d have her true vixen side showing in no time.

Hey, arsehole, she’s likely here to gather intel that could lead to your death, I remind myself, clearing my head and shifting before my body has a chance to take over. I have a firm “no Neph” rule.

This girl is strange, no doubt, but I can’t help getting closer. If she’s pretending to be human, I want to see how far she’ll take this impromptu act.

“Where’s your angel?” I ask.

“If you mean Jay, he’s over there talking to some man in a suit. But he’s not my boyfriend or my angel or whatever.”

She seems genuinely flustered. If this is all a charade, why are her colors jumping around like that? Light gray, medium gray, fuzzy, sharp, and yeah boy . . . a nice swirl of red. She wants me, but I can tell she’s not happy about it.

Completely baffling.

Why doesn’t she just show her hand? Tell me what she wants? Why play this game when she knows I can see she’s a Neph? I’ve even seen her gazing at my badge. I step back as a thought occurs that freaks me the fuck out. What if she doesn’t know what she is? What we are?

No.

That isn’t possible. Perhaps back in the day when Dukes had countless offspring there could have been unaccounted-for Neph orphans. Everything is tightly regulated since the Great Purge a century ago, when the Dukes wiped every Neph from the face of the earth. Thousands of us were killed because our numbers overwhelmed our demon fathers. Apparently the Neph were growing out of control, not being careful with their powers, and even sliding under the radar when it came to working. Now there were only a hundred something Neph children, and the Dukes were careful not to overpopulate again.

Someone has to know about this girl. Perhaps she’s been kept hidden from other Neph, to be used as a secret weapon against us—to confuse the hell out of us and then go for the kill.

I wonder how far she’s willing to take this before she fesses up. I glance over at the humans she came with.

“Not your boyfriend, eh?” At this, she appears angry. “Are you certain he doesn’t fancy you?”

I grin and she juts out her chin, standing a little taller, which isn’t very tall at all.

“Yes, I am.”

“How do you know?” I ask.

She seems to ponder this question before spouting smartly, “I just know, okay?” Her arms are still firmly crossed over her chest.

I lift my hands and laugh in the face of her adorable show of sassiness. Perhaps I’m having a bit too much fun with this whole thing, but I can’t help myself. It’s just so ridiculous. I’m determined to out her by any means. Intimidation hasn’t worked, so it’s time to turn on the charm.

“I’m terribly sorry, Anna. I’ve forgotten my manners. I thought you were . . . someone else.”

I stick out my hand. “I’m Kaidan Rowe.”

She pulls a hand away from her side and takes mine. Hers is soft and cool and seems right at home in mine, which is an idiotic thing to think. This little Neph is having bizarre effects on me. I stare into her eyes wondering how she can hide her deceit so well.

I’m about to pull my hand away when hers suddenly warms . . . and she full-out blushes. Un-fucking-believable. How did she get herself to do that? I’ve never seen a Neph blush in my life. Her aura is going mad again, lust winning out as the dominant color. And just to be sure she isn’t simply an expert at mind games, I open my sense of smell and let it surround her.

Oh damn. Definitely giving off pheromones.

She smells divine. Like a fresh pear. And some dainty flower I can’t put a name to. That’s gonna bug me.

Right. I chuckle at the craziness of it all and slowly take my hand back. I’m about to tuck my sense of smell away when I get an idea. One more test to see if I can get her to admit to being Neph. I search down the street, bypassing foul city scents until I find what I’m looking for.

“Ah, smells good. There’s nothing like American hot dogs. I think I’ll have one later.”

She looks at me like I’m crazy and says, “I don’t smell anything.”

“Really? Lean toward the door some. Breathe a bit . . . deeper.”

I can tell she knows what I mean. Her face tightens in concentration and her little nose slightly flares until I know she’s smelled it. One mile away. I wait for her to try to deny it, but she only shakes her head and blinks at me. Yeah, that’s right. . . . I can do what you can do, so let’s cut the shite, shall we?

“Hmm. I suppose I was mistaken then,” I say with a healthy dose of sarcasm.

This has gone on long enough. I need to get some answers, out of the public eye.

One of the abandoned models takes this inopportune moment to approach, stepping between us. I whisper what she wants to hear—that I’ll be over in a moment to take them home, and then we’ll have all night. She walks away satisfied, while I feel anything but. I can’t get out of work to chase this Neph girl, especially if I’m under some sort of surveillance. But I will find her. Her human “friends” are over there giving their information to our road manager. I’ll find out where they live, what school they attend, what parties are happening in their area. . . . I have resources, and people give out a plethora of information on their social media accounts.

“Maybe I’ll see you around, Anna. I’ll be sure to give your boyfriend Jay’s songs a listen.”

As I turn to walk away, I hear her say, “He’s not my—” but I don’t stop to listen. My beautiful dates are waiting none too patiently.

I listen from across the room as the bloke Jay goes back to her, inquiring about me. I almost spit my bourbon through my nose when he says, “Man, y’all looked like you were gonna rip each other’s clothes off!” and she hits him. Instead I make eye contact with Anna one last time and wink at her. Damned if she doesn’t blush again before turning quickly to leave.

She deserves an Oscar, that girl.

I try to give the models my full attention, but all I can think about is Anna. I listen to her conversation as they drive away. She’s just about to ring someone named Patti when they exit my range of hearing.

“Freesia!” I say aloud when the name of the flower finally comes to me. She’d smelled of pears and freesia.

The models give one another funny looks and giggle.

I shake my head. “Sorry. Don’t mind me.”

They laugh now and I grin, feeling like an idiot—an unfamiliar feeling for me.

Intrigue like I’ve never experienced floods me, and I don’t like it. Everything about her screamed of innocence, but that’s impossible. Her sudden appearance in my life will drive me to distraction, something I cannot afford. Still, I know I will replay our meeting for days—the images—her all-natural appearance, her open expressions and colors, and her seemingly authentic friendship with a human boy.

Either this Neph has some twisted, ingenious plan to entrap me, or she truly doesn’t know what she is. If that’s the case, it means serious danger for her. Not that I should care. Not that I do care. I’m intrigued is all—enough to know that I won’t rest until I find out more about this mysterious Anna.

CHAPTER THREE

More Confused Than Ever

“Burning mud in my eyes,

Blinding me from the truth.”

—“Long Way Down” by Robert DeLong

I’ll admit, I’ve been stalking the hell out of the bloke called Jay. I cannot find a trace of Anna online, other than a list of choir award recipients from two years ago. But Jay has accounts on damn near every social media site available.

Today he posted: Raise your hand if I’ll see you shaking your stuff at Gene’s party tonight!

That started a quick strand of comments—I’m so going! . . . Gonna be tight. . . . I’ve heard his lake house is awesome! . . . Everyone’s invited! . . . Anyone know the address?

Bingo. Someone posts the address and I lock it into my mobile.

That night, with my bandmate Raj at my side, we roll up to the house on Lake Allatoona with nearly every other high schooler in the Atlanta area. Raj immediately heads down the stairs toward the smell of marijuana. I search the party with my hearing and find Jay—he’s loud and surrounded by laughing girls—but there’s no sign of Anna.

As I walk into the kitchen and glance out the window, I see why. She’s outside talking with a bloke.

“Hey.”

I look in the direction of the husky, sexy voice and see the speaker next to me. She’s got a drink in one hand, her other elbow leaning back against the counter. She’s a rocker girl with a streak of pink in her hair and plump, hot-pink lips. She’s wearing all black, in fishnets and boots.

She looks fun.

“Hey, yourself,” I say. I glance out the window again. Anna and the kid appear to be stargazing or something. Her aura is blasting a nervous gray with orange bursts of excitement. So strange.

Rocker girl doesn’t smile. Her aura is fuzzy, so she’s either been drinking a good bit or smoking downstairs, but she doesn’t wobble or show any signs of being impaired except for her heavy-lidded eyes draped in silvery-gray liner.

“Never seen you before,” she says. “I’d remember.” She reaches up a hand with chunky rings and flicks the hair above my eye. “I like your hair.”

I look at her neon-pink streak, a stark contrast to the black locks around it. “I like yours more.”

She keeps a straight face, too cool to smile, but her eyes momentarily glint. She reaches up again, and this time runs her fingers along the side of my hair before scratching behind my ear. I want to wag my tail for her, but I’m too distracted. I glance out the window again and she drops her hand.

“That chick is weird,” Rocker Girl says. She’s looking out at Anna now, too, and she sips her drink.

“How so?” I ask.

She shrugs. “I mean, she’s nice, I guess. Just kind of . . . freaky. She stares a lot. Doesn’t talk much.”

Interesting.

“You’re in school together?”

“Yeah, for, like, ever. Anyway—”

Raj bursts through the crowd. “Yo, Kai. Got us some goods.” He holds up his hand with some pills and bumps Rocker Girl’s arm.

“Hey, watch it!” she says, holding up her drink and wet hand.

“Sorry . . .” He looks her over. “Damn, you’re hot.”

Without looking away from her, Raj thrusts a pill my way, probably X, and I slip it into my pocket.

“What’s your name?” Raj asks her.

“Mandie.”

“Cute name. I’m Raj. Bass for Lascivious.”

She appears unimpressed, but I can see the swirl of orangeish-red attraction and excitement in her aura. “That’s a band, right? Yeah, I’ve heard of you guys.” Rocker Girl takes in his black fauxhawk and the myriad of piercings on Raj’s face and ears. She bites her black thumbnail between her teeth, as if considering him. Again, her eyes are alight, but she won’t crack a smile. Raj looks at me with his eyebrows raised, asking permission. I nod and turn back to the window.

Anna and the bloke are gone.

“Shite,” I mutter. I lean forward to see more of the back deck, but other people are spilling outside now, and I don’t see her anymore. I leave Raj and Rocker Girl, and Raj’s laughter follows me as I push through the crowd. I stop and lean back against the entrance of the main hall when I catch sight of Anna’s long, honeyed hair heading down the basement stairs. I won’t lose her again. I bubble my hearing around her and I spot the guy she was with, standing at the kitchen island.

Several things happen in the next few minutes that I cannot make heads or tails of. Anna seems genuinely freaked out by the drug use downstairs and she hurries back up. The kid she’s with slips a powdered ecstasy tablet into her drink. When he gives it to her, she downs it as he watches in smug enthusiasm. She has to know the drink was drugged. Any Neph would have been listening to their date and gathered that much. But she allows him to think she’s clueless.

When she and her mates walk my way, heading toward the dance room, I think about hiding, but part of me hopes she sees me. Her friend catches me staring, but I pay her no mind. Anna’s eyes are glazed and her colors have faded to a thin, blotchy mist of confusion. I resist the urge to grab her by the arm and pull her from the party.

She’s only working, I tell myself. I’ve been blitzed out of my mind countless times while working. So why doesn’t this feel okay?

I glance into the dancing room, where the music is blaring. It’s dark enough in there to need my night vision—my pupils expand and I take in the sight of Anna dancing. She’s willowy and graceful, and most definitely high. I can’t stop watching her.

They walk past me again on their way back, and once again Anna does not look my way. Clearly the Neph girl is ignoring me. Her focus is unnerving.

The kitchen is too bright for me to remain hidden, so I stand around the corner and listen.

When Jay finds Anna, he is not pleased to find she’s not sober.

“Are you drunk?! What the hell, Anna?”

“Jay . . . Please don’t be mad at me!”

He’s been trying to score with a different girl all night, so I don’t think this is romantic anger he’s feeling—it’s a friendship thing. I don’t get it.

And then her date comes back, his aura a mix of purple pride and red lust. Everyone laughs at everything he says, and looks at him like he’s a demigod. Mr. Popular, no doubt. I want to take him outside and dunk his head into the lake a few seconds too long.

I watch as he takes Anna by the hand and leads her down the hall, past the dance room, up the stairs. I stand at the bottom of the stairs using my extended hearing to drown out the high volume of music and voices surrounding me. The bloke takes Anna into a room and closes them in. It sounds as if they’re climbing onto the bed.

My heart is beating faster than normal, and there’s a sour feeling when I swallow. I don’t feel right. This night doesn’t feel right.

Anna let herself be drugged and taken to a room—perhaps that’s how she works, pretending to be the innocent victim and allowing dodgy gits to believe they’re taking advantage of her. So why are my instincts screaming at me to go up there and intercept her?

I stand at the bottom of the stairs, leaning against the railing and pretending to look at my mobile. I feel girls looking my way, brushing purposely against me as they pass, but I ignore them and focus on the conversation in the upstairs bedroom.

“Everything feels so soft,” Anna is saying in a dreamlike voice.

“When I’m on E,” Creeper says, “I always think everyone should be naked. Just like Adam and Eve.”

A burst of laughter escapes me. Did he just use a biblical reference to get laid? That was the absolute worst line in history.

But Anna gives a breathy laugh and says, “Just completely natural and happy.” I roll my eyes. I’ve been high on ecstasy and I know how sensitive your skin feels, but she sounds like Snow White or something. I wish she’d stop humoring little Dopey.

I’m getting impatient.

“You know, Anna,” Creepy-Dopey says. His voice has taken on a false silky quality. “It wouldn’t take much for you to be more, I don’t know, popular or whatever. . . . I mean, you’re pretty, but you could be, like, hot. You know?”

Damn. Burn. Is he serious?

She sounds inexplicably sweet, not offended, when she responds. “I’m sorry, Scott, but even if I had the money, I just don’t care about those things. I want people to like me for who I am. Isn’t that what you want, too?”

I’m halfway up the stairs before I realize it.

Things are not adding up. This plonker’s words, plus what Rocker Girl said, and Anna’s friendship with Jay—what Neph chooses the “Unpopular” role? Especially when they’re as gorgeous as she is?

“Have you kissed many guys?” Creepy-Dopey is asking.

I’m at the top of the stairs now, heart slam-dancing against my ribs. I don’t feel right.

“I’ve never kissed anyone,” Anna says. I nearly snort with laughter at the lie, as sincere as she may sound. There’s no possible way she’s never been kissed.

“Not even Jay?” he asks.

“No way. He’s like my brother.”

I’ve found their door and I’m standing in front of it.

“How long will this last?” Anna whispers. “This feeling?”

“About four hours. Then it takes a couple of hours to come down.” She makes a sad sound at his answer, and he says, “Anna?”

“Huh?”

“I want to be your first kiss.”

I grit my teeth and grip the door handle.

“Okay,” she whispers.

First kiss or fiftieth, doesn’t matter—this guy’s not getting any satisfaction under my watch. I wrench the handle down and kick the door open. They bolt upright on the bed.

“What the—” Creepy begins, shielding his face from the hall light, but I’m only looking at Anna, feeling a strange sense of relief. She squints at me.

“Ah, there you are, luv. Let’s go, then.” I motion her toward me with the flick of two fingers.

She stares, mouth open.

“Can you walk, or will I have to carry you?” I ask.

The guy finally sprouts a tiny pair of balls. “What are you doing, man?”

“I need a chat with Anna.” I’m watching her. She sort of smiles, dazed, then slides off the bed to stand.

“I’ll be back,” she says to him.

Like hell she will.

“I wouldn’t count on it, actually.” I enter the room and take her by the hand. We leave the bloke sputtering and red-faced with anger. He shouts at me, and I give him one hard-ass glance to shut him up before I slam the door behind us.

I hold her hand and lead her down the hall, down the stairs, through the party, onto the back deck, and down the steps leading to the dock and the water.

I am confused.

I don’t enjoy being confused.

I pull her faster down the dock, where we can be alone. But when we get to the edge of the dock, I’m at a loss. I sit, and she carefully sits next to me. I can feel her eyes browsing me, and I let her. I stare out at the moon’s reflection on the water.

I’ve never met a Neph who doesn’t act like one. She doesn’t hide her colors. She is kind to people, even when they’re deceptive to her, and there seems to be nothing in it for her. She appears to have a true friendship with a human, Jay. She says and does things that no Neph would dare say or do. And then there’s the part about her having no money, which can’t be true. Either she doesn’t know what she is or she’s got the most twisted and ingenious working profile I’ve ever seen. To have two completely opposing possibilities is mind-bending.

A breeze blows across the water and Anna shivers.

“Who are you?” I ask, just as I did when we first met.

She pauses. “I don’t know how you want me to answer that.” It’s almost like she feels bad about this. Then very suddenly, she gasps violently and her hands curl around the edge of the dock.

“What is it?” I ask.

“I think . . . It feels like it’s starting to wear off. But he said four hours!” She stands on shaking legs and begins to pace, hugging herself around the middle and hunching over.

It takes me a moment to realize she’s talking about the drug. She’s coming down from the high, but she seems almost panicked about it. I stand and block her exit down the dock so she can’t run. I need her to focus on me. Perhaps she’ll be more open while she’s still high.

I grasp her chin and lift her eyes to mine. We’ll start with Neph basics. We never get ill.

“Have you ever been sick?” I ask.

She holds herself tighter. “Sick . . . ?”

“The flu. Tonsillitis. Anything?”

Her eyes grow larger and for that second she stands a bit straighter as she stares at me. Then her body spasms and she bends at the waist, grabbing her knees. It seems as if she’s in true pain, but if it’s an act I will not play the fool.

“Maybe this little sweet will help you.” I hold up the pill Raj gave me, and Anna swipes for it, fast as a damn cheetah. But I’m quicker. Her eyes are flashing and eager with need. “Answer all of my questions first. Any illnesses in your lifetime?”

“N-no,” she stammers.

Good. We’re finally making progress.

“How far back can you remember?” I ask.

She stops shaking and stares up at me. Her mouth opens, then closes. She’s afraid to answer. I step closer, my heart beating uncharacteristically fast. I feel as if I’m on the edge of a discovery.