“I just thought… maybe… you and Vance were close. Maybe he mentioned something?” She waved a hand for the second time. “Never mind. Of course you and he wouldn’t have spoken about top secret lab business.”
I watched a couple of men exit a red car and approach the main entrance. The car and their clothes weren’t typical of IIA, and I slid easily inside their heads. But when I heard their thoughts, I knew they were here for Bree.
I nudged her. “We have to go.”
Bree moved to exit the booth, but Mrs. Howard grabbed her daughter’s arm again. “If you can help me locate this missing oracle, I know they’ll let your father go.”
~~~~~
We resorted to taking the bus to our next destination—a destination Bree had yet to disclose to me, probably because she was still angry. She was back to disguising our appearances from everyone except each other. She gnawed on a nail while staring out the window.
“Why did you tell your mom you didn’t know anything about the oracle?” I asked.
“It was the feeling I got when she told me that Dad was taken into custody because he wouldn’t give me up. And she acted like she didn’t even know what this ‘optical learning tool’ was, yet she knew Vance and Lora had been working on it.” She returned her gaze to me. “Then, she confirmed my suspicions when she told me they would release Dad if she handed over this thing she pretended to know nothing about.”
“What makes you think she was pretending?”
“Because she called it by its actual name at the end of our conversation, and I couldn’t remember calling it an ‘oracle’ anywhere in the course of the conversation except when I was speaking inside your head.”
She stood and pulled on the string to alert the driver we wished to get off at the next stop.
We stepped off at the edge of a suburban area filled with cookie cutter houses. Bree was staring at the map in her phone as we walked. She had to know it was risky to have her phone turned on, but I said nothing.
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”
“We’re going to see Janice Davenport.”
“And she is…?”
“Vance’s personal assistant. She hinted that Vance was experimenting on human clones that had come from Palmyra. And Addison said she was the only person she recognized going in and out of Building B the last couple of days.”
“Do you trust this woman?”
Bree angled her head toward me. “Jonas, I’m pretty sure there’s no one left in my life that I trust.”
Ouch. Wasn’t sure I deserved that. “That’s pretty melodramatic, Red, even for you.”
“You think so? My dad is taken by IIA agents, and you don’t tell me?”
“And you were about to leave this morning without telling me. I’d say we both have a little work to do.”
She seemed to think about that, but continued on in silence.
We entered a neighborhood of middle class homes. Somewhere out of sight, a couple of lawnmowers competed with each other for most annoying sound. Dogs barked from behind chain-link fences. Bree flinched every time a car door slammed and twitched at the sound of every voice.
Then she put a hand on my arm. I followed her line of vision to a white sedan down the street. There appeared to be two heads inside.
“I see them,” I whispered, then looked all around us to verify there were no others. “Is that the house?”
“Across the street from them. The A-frame.”
She looked both ways, then crossed the street. We jogged up a driveway, then cut through a couple of back yards until we got to Janice’s.
Unfortunately, Janice’s back yard was surrounded by an eight-foot fence.
“Can you climb?” Bree asked.
“Sure. I guess.”
“Good. Give me a boost.” She placed a hand on the fence and lifted a foot, motioning for me to give her my hands.
I did what she wanted while praying she didn’t break an ankle or an arm in the process. “We don’t have Jack here to heal broken bones.”
She rolled her eyes, placed her foot in my hands, and then very gracefully vaulted over the fence. I boosted myself up and over, getting a splinter in my palm in the process.
Bree examined it, then dropped my hand with another roll of the eyes.
We skirted around a well-manicured vegetable garden, walked past a fire pit with several Adirondack chairs that reminded me of the house where I lived briefly in Lexington with Georgia and Fred, and approached the back patio door.
The glass on the door was broken, and the door itself was ajar. I touched Bree’s arm. Something’s wrong. What do you know about this woman?
She shrugged, pinning me with those analyzing eyes. What do we know about anyone?
Would you cut it out? You know you can freaking trust me.
Then be ready to have my back. She pushed the door open, and as she did, a piece of glass fell from the door and shattered on the tile floor.
We both cringed.
“I guess we’ll consider that ‘Hello,’” she muttered. Then she called out, “Anyone home?” She stepped lightly through what looked like an enclosed back porch and entered a kitchen that smelled like one of those cake-scented candles. The house was quiet—too quiet.
“Ms. Davenport?” Bree sang. She rubbed her arms, where goose bumps were visible.
We walked through the kitchen, Bree leading, but as soon as she stepped through the doorway on the other side, she stopped so suddenly I bumped into her. My hand went instinctively to her waist. And then I saw what had made her stop: an unconscious Addison tied to a chair in the middle of the living room.
Her chin rested on her chest; her shoulders slumped. For once, she looked every bit the ten-year-old little girl. When she flitted around saving us from IIA agents and police, and even last year when I had known her to help Sandra, she had seemed invincible. But seeing her now, I knew she’d met her match—and that worried me. If someone could capture Addison, what could he or she do to one of us?
Bree looked back at me. I don’t hear anything. Is anyone else here?
I immediately began searching the area for brain activity, then pointed to the ceiling. There is one other person. Upstairs. They might be unconscious. Their neurons were firing at a slow rate.
Bree darted to Addison’s side, and as she began untying her, I noticed that Addison was only loosely tied to begin with. It wouldn’t have been enough to hold her if she were to wake. Something wasn’t right.
As soon as I had the thought, something stung my neck. Bree, run! But I knew I was too late as I slumped to the ground and lost consciousness.
chapter twenty-five
Briana
I turned as Jonas’s body fell to the ground, his head hitting the hardwood floor with a dull thud. I knelt beside him. Jonas?
I touched his face, then used my mind to search inside his body, looking for any sign of what had made him pass out. A foreign substance was racing through his bloodstream, originating somewhere near his shoulder or neck. With a grunt, I rolled him over. Gah! Jonas! His head turned, exposing the other side of his neck—and there it was: a tiny dart sticking out from his skin just below his ear. I pulled it out, careful not to touch the needle.
“Hello, Briana,” a male voice said.
I stood, spun in a circle, but saw no one. “Show yourself, asshole.”
A figure appeared across the room. “Is that any way to talk to your brother?”
The figure that appeared before me was indeed a replica of my brother, and the sight nearly took my breath away. He looked to be around thirteen, blond hair, freckled.
I stood, enclosing the dart into my fist. “Who are you? What do you want?”
“Isn’t it obvious who I am? I’m your brother.”
“My brother is dead.”
He walked closer, and as he neared, I could see a metallic object in his eye. He had one of the optical devices—was it an oracle? “Maybe you’re right,” he said. “Maybe your original
brother is dead.” He lifted his hand and pointed a finger at his eye. “But I have his memories.”
“That’s not possible.”
He raised a brow. “Not possible?” He gestured to his perfectly cloned body.
Like Addison, he looked childlike, but he had the mannerisms of someone much older. It was… creepy.
“Remember all those times we went to OMSI?” the boy said. “Dad insisted we would learn science one way or another.” He laughed as if he was truly reliving the memory.
I swallowed hard and reminded myself that this was not my brother. This clone’s memories were manufactured inside a stupid unnatural device. “What did you do to him?” I nodded toward a lifeless Jonas.
“Just a little tranquilizer. It will wear off.”
“What do you want with us?”
“I just want to talk. For now.”
“So talk,” I ordered.
Addison moaned beside me.
Addison, can you hear me?
“What happened?” Her question came out in a slur of syllables.
The clone of my brother walked over to her and touched her head. She went limp again.
“What are you doing to her?”
“Just using my gifts. She’ll be fine.” He smiled, baring perfectly straightened teeth.
“What do I call you?”
“Raimund,” he said. “It means wise protector.” With that statement, he sounded more like the thirteen-year-old that he was. “People call me Rai.”
I didn’t care what the name meant or what people called him.
I fought the urge to look at Jonas. Jonas, I mindspoke. Wake up. I thought I might be able to flush whatever poison this Boone lookalike—this Rai—had injected him with if I could only concentrate for a few minutes.
“Who are you protecting?” I asked Rai.
“I’m programmed to protect my creator.”
“And who would that be?”
Another smile. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
I felt Rai enter my head, and I knew it was him, because he was clumsy and untrained, bumping around my thoughts. But Jonas had taught me well how to pocket and section off my mind; Rai would find nothing. Which was why I allowed him to poke around for a few seconds before I spoke. “Give it up, Rai. You’re not going to get information from me.”
“Addison is good at it, too. How did you guys learn that?”
“Jonas would have told you if you hadn’t knocked him out.” It was a lie, but whatever. “Now? You’ll be lucky if Jonas leaves you standing.” Not a lie.
His smile fell from his face, and he looked angrily at Jonas. “You shouldn’t be letting him near you. He’s one of Sandra Whitmeyer’s creations. He can’t be trusted.”
Interesting. He knows about Sandra Whitmeyer. “Once upon a time I would’ve agreed with you, but surely you’re aware that Sandra had a hand in creating all of us, even you. Besides, Jonas also had a hand in destroying Sandra.”
“Yes, but you’re my sister, and I don’t think Jonas respects you.” So, the memories programmed through a tracker made him protective of me, too.
I glanced down at Jonas. Let that be a lesson to you, I mindspoke to him, even though he couldn’t hear me. Respect other people’s sisters. “Is that why you choked him in the middle of the night?” I asked.
Rai laughed. “I wouldn’t have killed him.”
I nodded slowly, chewing on my bottom lip. “You just wanted to teach him a little respect?” I didn’t expect an answer. I began walking slowly around the room, running my fingers along picture frames and knick-knacks. “What did you do to Ms. Davenport?”
“She’s upstairs.”
“Is she okay?”
“Why wouldn’t she be?”
I gestured to the two unconscious clones in front of me. “I’m just judging by what I see.”
“Oh, I didn’t do anything to her. The nice old lady is just taking a nap. She’s very upset that someone killed two people at the company where she works.”
“Do you know who killed Vance and Lora?”
He cocked his head. “No.”
We heard a thud overhead. Rai smiled. “Sounds like someone’s awake.”
“Is she your creator?” I asked.
His brows knitted together. “That’s a stupid question.” He looked toward the stairs. “Janice,” he called, his voice sounding more like the young boy that he was. “You have company.”
I heard footsteps on the stairs, and a moment later Janice Davenport appeared in the doorway. She looked at the two unconscious clones, at Rai, and at me.
And she smiled.
I raised both brows. “Ms. Davenport?”
“Briana Howard. I knew you would come.”
“How did you know?”
“Because I assumed it was really you posing as Vance in the office the other morning—the morning that someone had already murdered him.” She stepped forward. She was dressed in a long black skirt and a dark gray blouse—a woman in mourning. “Your father told me about your ability to appear as someone else, and I put two and two together.”
I saw Rai staring at me in his creepy I’m-a-clone-but also-your-brother sort of way, but ignored him. “But you didn’t tell the police,” I said.
“Of course not.”
“Why not? You know they’re sitting outside your house, right?”
She walked over to the front window, peeled back the curtains a hair, and peeked outside. “Those aren’t police,” she said, letting the curtain fall back into place.
“IIA?”
“Mmm. They’ve been there night and day since Vance was killed.”
That wasn’t really an answer. “Why? Did they think I would come here?”
“Not exactly. They want what Vance was killed for. And since that device hasn’t turned up, they’re watching anyone who might give them a clue where it is.” She turned to me. “So, let’s cut to the chase. Where is the oracle, Briana?”
“What makes you think I have it?”
“Because I spoke to Lora, and she said she gave it to Vance. And since we both know Vance never made it to work that morning, but that someone who could manipulate Lora and me into thinking they were seeing Vance did…”
“What does the device do?” I asked.
“Lora didn’t tell you?”
“She didn’t get a chance,” I lied. I just wanted to see if Janice would give me a different explanation. “But she did say that my dad would kill Vance for removing it from the facility.”
“Your dad didn’t kill Vance.”
“I didn’t say he did. But I am wondering why you would want a device that the IIA is after and that my dad would fire you for having.”
“That’s not exactly accurate.”
I tensed at the sound of Jonas’s moaning inside my head. Don’t move. Don’t speak, I mindspoke to him, keeping my eyes on Janice. “You don’t think my dad would have your head if this thing fell into your possession?” I asked.
“Oh, that part is true. But it’s not the IIA that’s after the oracle. They don’t even know that it exists.” She turned to Rai. “Knock her out. We need to go.”
Rai took a step toward me.
“Wait.” I held up my hands. “The IIA will find me. That’s the last thing any of us want. If they get a hold of any of us…”
“We’re not handing you over to the IIA.”
“Then what are you—”
Before I could finish the question, Rai waved a hand, grazing the front of my face with his fingers, and my mind went blank—but not before I’d decided that I absolutely hated this clone of my brother.
chapter twenty-six
Jonas
That little shit did something to Bree, and all I could do was lie there.
I was paralyzed. I couldn’t even open my eyes. When Bree spoke inside my head, I couldn’t speak back. I tried to let her know I would find her, no matter what, but I couldn’t form the words in my head, let alone reach out to her mi
nd.
And then she was gone—carried out of the house by two people who were going to wish they were dead if they harmed a single hair on her body.
Minutes, maybe hours, passed before my eyes finally fluttered open. When they did, Addison was in my face. “Sheesh! What the freak did they do to you?” she asked.
I stared at her. I licked my lips slowly. They were dry; my mouth felt like cotton. After several more blinks, I finally said, “Do you know where they took her?” My voice came out in a crackle. I stretched my fingers and tried closing them into a fist. My legs felt heavy. I could barely wiggle my toes.
“I can think of one place.”
“Building B?”
She nodded. “Can you move?”
“I’m working on it.” I slowly bent my knees, then straightened them again. “The IIA isn’t holding Dr. Howard.” I wasn’t sure why I trusted Addison with that information, but I had gotten inside Janice’s mind while I was lying there on her floor, paralyzed and pissed. Maybe I shared with Addison because she was the only one here. Maybe it was because I needed her, and I might not have a chance at getting past BioTech security to reach Bree alone.
“I know. I read minds too, you know.”
“Mrs. Howard said Janice told her Dr. Howard had been taken into custody.” I started to push myself up. “And Janice has a tracker at the base of her skull.” I had discovered it when I searched her mind. I had no idea what it meant exactly, but in my experience having a tracker was never a good thing.
Addison put a hand to my upper arm and helped me sit up. “I searched Janice’s mind while I pretended to stay knocked out. The last place I saw Dr. Howard in her mind was inside his own office. He accused her of betraying him and the company.”
“What else?” I asked.
“She was working with that Vance Carrington sleazeball to bring clones here.”
“But why? Was Dr. Howard involved?”
“Don’t know. Haven’t been able to figure that out. And I couldn’t get a trace on him beyond his office.”
“That woman will pay for what she did to Bree.”
“So will that asshole clone who thought it was a good idea to take the two of us down.”
Deceived Page 18
