Red Handed

by Gena Showalter

  I crossed my arms over my chest and cast my gaze throughout our surroundings. We were in the hall, and we were alone. "Ask Allison," I said. "She came to me looking for trouble."

  He arched a brow, not pacified in the least. "My sister has never attacked another trainee before. Did you provoke her?"

  Scowling, I slapped at his finger. A few minutes ago, he'd been super nice to me, so his accusation hurt all the more. "I. Did. Nothing. So don't you dare try to blame this on me."

  He grabbed my wrist. I thought he meant to jerk me forward and scream in my face for daring to hit him, but he didn't. He held onto me, stared at the length of my arm. Bit by bit, his expression softened. "You have talent, Phoenix. I don't want to see it wasted."

  My shoulders sagged, the fire of my anger dying a quick death. Our gazes met, exactly as they had only a short while ago. A shiver of awareness stole over me. I drank in his appeal. I could feel his body heat. His fingers were calloused and created a dizzying friction against my skin.

  In the next instant, he released me and stepped away. He tangled a hand in his dark hair. "What are you doing to me?"

  My jaw dropped in astonishment. "Me? I'm not doing anything." Except wanting you, I added silently. I still wanted him to kiss me. The need was so strong that I suddenly didn't care about being kicked out. About getting in trouble and having my memory wiped.

  "Not doing anything--ha!" He snorted. Once again, he closed the distance between us.

  Yes, I thought. Closer...closer...

  His clean, pine scent wafted around me. "You're all I can think about anymore," he whispered in my ear. "I look for you in the halls. I'm constantly wondering what you're doing and who you're doing it with. Why do you think I was looking in on the party? I was hoping you'd catch a glimpse of me and come out. I can't get you out of my mind, even though you're forbidden."

  I gulped. So, he felt it, too, then. The hum of attraction. The need. I opened my mouth to reply, to tell him how I felt, but he shook his head.

  "Don't say a damn word," he said in that whisper. "If I hear that you want me, too, I'll lose control." He pushed out a shaky breath, and it fanned my lobe. "Boss watched your fight. He watches and sees everything because there are cameras everywhere. Even here."

  I paled.

  "Come on," Ryan said, loudly this time. "Boss wants to see you and Allison."

  I followed behind him, staring at his back. His words replayed through my mind. Not that words that should have, but the ones that shouldn't have: You're all I can think about anymore.

  Ryan wanted me. Ryan really wanted me!

  A wonderful and terrible discovery. For a few, needy seconds, I had thought I could give up A.I.R. for a single kiss from him. Lucid now, I knew that wasn't true. I couldn't. I wouldn't.

  I belonged here. I didn't want to leave, no matter what I had to do to remain.

  The knowledge swam inside me as if a switch had been thrown. I admitted it now--now that I'd broken a rule and being kicked out was more a possibility than ever. A bitter laugh escaped me. What a time to realize the truth. This camp was worth fighting with all my might to stay.

  I had purpose here. I had goals. Becoming an A.I.R. agent was forever; protecting innocents was honorable. There was no better career choice for me. I can't lose this.

  At the moment, camp was all I had.

  I remained silent while Ryan led me through the halls. Soon I found myself seated across from Allison and facing the silver-haired Boss, who sat behind a large desk. He wore those same black glasses. The entire wall behind him was sectioned into different holoscreens, displaying different scenes. The party. All the classrooms, which were currently empty. The hallways. Kids who were striding to and from their rooms.

  Boss leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. "Someone want to tell me what that was about?" he asked in that deep voice of his.

  I shrugged, trying to act nonchalant even though fear pounded through me. This was exactly the situation I hadn't wanted to find myself in. Thanks a lot, Allison.

  My knuckles throbbed as I came down from my adrenaline high.

  "She's a bitch," Allison said, pointing at me.

  I didn't respond, though I wanted to. Badly. Hold it together; act like an agent.

  "You've been against her since Ryan told me how she fought and Mia recommended her," Boss said. "Why?"

  "She's a flyer," Allison gritted out.

  "Former," I said.

  "Flyers do not recover," Allison insisted. "Especially not this one. You didn't see her in school, Dad. She used Breathless constantly. She was rude. She stole things from my locker. She treated everyone but her friends like dirt. She was loud and obnoxious in class, always disrupting the teacher. Some of us actually wanted to learn," she snapped at me.

  My hands fisted. "She finally got clean. She hasn't used in months. She even passed Angel's test. She is also sorry for stealing from you." I'd stolen a lot of things, I knew that, but I didn't remember what or from who.

  "Will you be able to resist when we're in the field and drugs are all around you?" Allison demanded. "You'll get high and the rest of us will be left vulnerable because of it."

  I raised my chin, determined. "You haven't even given me a chance. You've already held my trial and convicted me."

  "She's right," Boss said, gaze narrowed on his daughter.

  Allison's lips pressed together in a tight line, but she didn't comment.

  "This is strike one, girls. Two more and you're out. And yes, Allison, I'm talking to you, as well. For today's incident, I'm forbidding both of you from attending social functions for two weeks. If you fight again, the consequences will be worse. I need my trainees to work together, to be a team. If there's friction among agents, other-worlders will exploit it and win. That's why you will now spend a few hours every evening together, getting to know each other."

  "What!" Allison gasped.

  Boss arched his brows, and they peeked over the top rim of his sunglasses. I was surprised to see that his eyebrows were inky black. "I've given my final verdict. You may leave."

  Pause.

  We sat in stunned disbelief. For different reasons, I'm sure.

  "Leave!" he barked.

  Neither of us spoke a word as we stood. We glanced at each other, frowned, then looked away. Two weeks of Allison. I didn't like it, but I'd endure it. I hadn't been cut from the program. Not severe as he'd promised.

  I was grinning as I left.

  12

  Surprisingly, the next two weeks passed with lightning speed, my forced time with Allison the only dark spot. I was tested for Onadyn every day, and I passed. I loved my new friends. I loved my classes and was learning so much.

  Well, that wasn't exactly true. I should have been learning so much. I was having trouble memorizing the minute details. There were just so many species and so much information to take in that I sometimes found myself daydreaming during class.

  Sometimes I prayed for the proverbial bell to ring.

  So far I'd learned that some aliens didn't breathe from their noses, but from their ears. Some didn't have a spinal cord or bones or even heartbeats. Some excreted poison and we weren't to touch them. Could I name which aliens had these traits? No. Not even upon threat of death.

  Really, how was a girl supposed to keep all of that straight?

  Of course, there was one thing I knew for certain. I missed my interaction with Ryan. I saw him in combat class, but he never again called me up to demonstrate. He never made eye contact with me. After the amazing things he'd said to me...he wanted me, he thought about me constantly...I was going crazy.

  Logically, I knew why he was treating me this way. Logically, I knew it was better that way. But I didn't like it and I wanted him to stop.

  Don't think about him. I need to study! We were going to be tested soon. Okay. So. The Arcadians were psychics, superfast, and almost humanoid.

  The Mecs, I'd discovered, could control the weather and liked things hot. The
best way to weaken them was to freeze them. Artic, a gun that shot bullets of liquid nitrogen, was in development. I couldn't wait to try it!

  Ell Rollises, who were large and strong but could not form a thought on their own, were often used as bodyguards. They obeyed orders without hesitation and when they were given a task, nothing deterred them from it. Even if those orders were to destroy the world.

  Some Tarens--Kitten's race--could actually walk through walls. Kitten denied having the ability herself and refused to confirm that others like her actually could. She refused to confirm anything. I was glad she'd remained mute. I mean, really. Learning that I (and others) could incapacitate my roommate and friend by pinching the back of her neck had not been fun.

  I didn't feel sorry for Kitten, though. We were also learning how to incapacitate humans in case they interfered with our work.

  In weapons class, I'd finally gotten to fire a loaded pyre-gun. The beam shot from the barrel smoothly, easily. In fact, I wouldn't have known I'd fired if not for the yellow beam that had lit up the room like a fireworks display. Well, that and the aftereffects. The destruction from that beam was amazing. My target had become a smoldering pile of ash in seconds.

  My strength, I had learned, was in my aim. The more I practiced, the better I became. I was very, very good at hitting what I focused on, even from long distances. I could throw shooting stars better than anyone in my class.

  Ryan had taught us how to hide and eject razors from our shoes and shirtsleeves. Every day I felt a little more powerful. A little more important. A little more unbeatable. I think I'd wanted to feel that way my entire life, but hadn't, and so had turned to Onadyn to forget my failure. A.I.R. was my new high.

  I grinned. What's more, once a week we practiced breaking and entering. So far, we'd learned how to tap phones and bypass a general security system. How cool was that?

  "What are you smiling about?" Allison snipped.

  I quickly lost my grin. The two of us usually spent our time griping and insulting each other. Today, our last day together, was apparently not going to be different.

  "Mind your own business," I said.

  "Mind your own business," she mocked.

  I flipped her off and sat back in the uncomfortable chair I'd been assigned. I stared up at the ceiling, knowing cameras were watching me. I didn't know where they were, though, because the ceiling looked like any other. Blocked and silver. Unassuming.

  "This sucks," I muttered.

  "I'd rather eat maggots than be here with you."

  "Maybe I'll talk to your dad about arranging that for you."

  "Talk to him and I'll kill you." Her fists clenched atop the table that separated us. "One day, we're going to meet on the streets and--"

  "Let me guess," I said, cutting into her speech. "You'll make me sorry I was ever born. Very original."

  She didn't reply, and I forced my mind away from her. God knows I'd rather think about anything but her--even my upcoming math exam. Math. Ugh. I almost groaned.

  I'd found out that I had passed all my regular studies tests but math. Therefore, I had to take a math class every night. Trig, of all things. Why hadn't that been deemed obsolete by now? Once I passed that, I'd get to graduate high school. I was excited by that prospect. Me, a graduate!

  I'd written my mom about it, but had not heard back. Either she hadn't written or A.I.R. was screening my mail (as promised). I was hoping the latter. My therapy sessions with Angel convinced me more every day that my mom did care about me, she just didn't know how to deal with the thought of losing me like she'd lost my father.

  I know I'd thought it before, but one day I really was going to make her proud of me. I was going to apologize for every negative thing I'd ever done to her. I was going to pay her bills and let her retire, relax, and enjoy life. That was my dream, at least. No one had told me how much money A.I.R. agents raked in. But even if I made a pittance, every dime would go to her.

  Bad daughter no more. Nope, not me. I was someone to praise.

  I mean, I sat through my boring alien politics class every Wednesday and I didn't punch the walls or allow myself to fall asleep--even though I sometimes wanted to sleep more than anything else in the world because I still hadn't adjusted to my new schedule. Now that was discipline!

  Really, who cared about the ruling classes of the other-worlders? I didn't.

  I'd much rather be in my Thursday alien interrogation class. Now that was a class guaranteed to keep a girl up at night. In it, we learned exactly what to say and do to get the answers we needed. Through unassuming questions at first, we were to discover what the subject wanted or was afraid of and then use that information to our advantage. We were to maintain eye contact. We were to lie. We were also to torture, if necessary, to get what we wanted.

  I shuddered at the thought, an action born of dread and anticipation. Keeping this planet safe was as heady as it was scary.

  "What are you thinking about now?" Allison demanded.

  "Torture," I answered honestly.

  One of her eyebrows quirked up. "Mine?"

  I shrugged. "Perhaps."

  "That's not something I'll ever have to worry about. You'll be kicked out of camp sooner or later. You and that Teran friend of yours."

  "She has a name," I said through clenched teeth.

  "Yeah. Alien."

  I gripped my knees to keep from reaching out and slapping her. "She's a better person than you'll ever be." Kitten and I had grown very close these last two weeks. She was, without a doubt, my best friend here.

  She hadn't cared about my drug use. She was smart and witty and always had my back. At school, I'd had friends but they would have ratted me out to save themselves--and often had. I also loved that Kitten was as crazy for Bradley as I was for Ryan. Not that either of us would ever admit to such a thing. Well, not out loud.

  Every night I got to hear a replay on the "awful" things Bradley said to Kitten at their last encounter.

  "Why don't you find someone else?" I'd finally asked her yesterday.

  "Because," had been her stubborn response. "And who said I wanted him?"

  I had rolled my eyes. "If you don't want him, tell him that. Maybe he'll leave you alone and find someone else."

  She'd hissed low in her throat. "He just smells so good, okay. But I don't share, ever, and he's the type who likes to spread it around."

  Unlike us, Cara and Erik had copped to feelings. During the mixers, they were always hiding in a corner, talking, laughing, and touching each other. I sighed, a little jealous.

  "What now?" Allison said.

  "Why do you want to know?"

  "Your voice is better than silence. Slightly," she added darkly.

  "Yours isn't," I replied. God, I wanted to shake her. She was so smug, so superior. And I was still fuming about her disdain for Kitten.

  Allison scowled over at me. "Listen. Let's cut the crap and talk about the real issue here. You like my brother. I see the way you look at him, and I'm sick of it."

  I chewed on the inside of my cheek until the metallic twang of blood lined my tongue. "Well, do you see the way he looks at me?"

  "He doesn't like you," she insisted. She leaned forward, palms resting on the table. "And even if he did, he wouldn't risk our father's wrath and do something about it. The two of you are hopeless."

  I knew that, and I didn't like the reminder. "If we're hopeless, why are you so worked up about it?"

  She ran her tongue over her lips, but didn't say anything.

  "Nothing's going to happen between us, okay," I said, bitterness layering my words. "So you can just relax about it."

  "Fine."

  "Fine."

  She turned her head, staring at the walls that enclosed us. Several minutes ticked by. The silence became thick and heavy, enveloping us.

  "What do you think everyone is doing right now?" she asked. For the first time, she spoke to me as if I were an acquaintance rather than an enemy.

  "Havin
g fun," I grumbled.

  "Yeah," she said wistfully. "Having fun."

  It was Friday, social day, so everyone was at a party. They were drinking punch, eating delicious food; they were talking and laughing. And I was stuck here. New hookups were probably happening right now. I wondered if Bradley and Kitten had finally made a move on each other.

  "You know," Allison said on a long sigh, "I never got in trouble before you arrived."

  "So I've been told," I said dryly. "You shouldn't have attacked me. Why did you, anyway? And don't say your brother--you knew nothing would ever happen between us."

  "You were getting on my nerves, strutting around as if you owned the place." She drew a circle on the tabletop. "I've been here for months. Me. Not you. I've earned the right to strut. You haven't."

  That wasn't the only reason she'd jumped me. I could see the knowledge in her eyes. "I'd say it was to solidify your place here, but you've been here so long, you don't need to prove yourself anymore."

  "Ha! You have no idea."

  I sat up straighter in my chair, peering at her. "Then why don't you explain it to me so that I do understand?"

  Her jaw became a mutinous line a split second before she crumbled and the words poured from her. "I always have to prove myself. My father runs this place. If I'm not the best, people begin to question my talent, as if I don't have any. They forget the kills I've already made."

  I arched a brow, a mimic of the expression she'd given me a little while ago. A mimic of her father. "So you decided to challenge me? A new trainee?"

  "Everyone's in awe of you." She scrubbed a hand down her face. "Did you see the new girl?" she said, sotto voce. "I hear she took down a gang of Sybilins on her own. Did you see the new girl? I hear she knocked Ryan on his ass."

  I wanted to grin at the memory, but didn't dare. There was a vulnerability to Allison now that kind of--God, I hated to admit this--saddened me. Even reminded me of myself.

  "I have to prove myself, too, you know?" I told her.

  She snorted in disbelief. "Everyone already loves you."

  "I'm the girl who was addicted to Onadyn. I'm the girl who could start flying again at any moment. I'm the girl the instructors might kick out at any moment." I crossed my arms over my chest, daring her to contradict me.

  Her cheeks fused with color, a bright, bright red. "All right. Fine. You have to prove yourself, too."