And vampires? Well, that was just silly.
But I opened the book up anyway. Just like the others, it had a list of page numbers in the front. I flipped to the first one.
“Stories of creatures that conquer death by consuming the blood of the living are quite common in various cultures. These creatures may have very little in common in other respects, but the consumption of blood is nearly always present, as is the ability to rise from the dead.”
Underneath this, Jude had written the same thing underneath that had been in the first book I’d looked at. “Ambrosia equals blood?”
Hmm... That did fit, didn’t it? Vampires were immortal because they drank blood, weren’t they? So if the drink of the gods had been blood, then maybe vampires and gods were sort of all the same thing. Maybe when there hadn’t been a place in culture for stories about gods, they’d just been turned into monsters—vampires.
Except that didn’t make any sense, because vampires were people first. They turned into vampires, and then they drank blood. Gods weren’t people. They were gods.
But there had been that story in the Greek mythology book about Hercules being given ambrosia and then becoming immortal, hadn’t there?
Well, even if that fit, it didn’t have anything to do with us down here, did it? Jude wasn’t saying that we were all vampires, and that was why we didn’t die, was he? We didn’t drink blood.
Maybe it was in the food!
I recoiled in horror.
But that didn’t make any sense. We’d been brought here because we didn’t die. So whatever was making us heal quickly, it had to have been happening before we showed up here. They weren’t giving us blood to make us heal. We already could heal.
Well, Jason and the others could, anyway. There was no denying that I hadn’t bounced back from the dehydration as well as he and Boone had. And my scar was back, and apparently more visible with every passing day. Jason’s scars weren’t back. What did it mean?
I remembered Jude asking if I was worse than the others when we’d been locked in the gym. How did he know that?
There were too many questions. I didn’t know the answers to any of them. I closed the books, frustrated. I stacked them against the wall. I would think about something else. None of this was important.
* * *
I felt well enough to get out of bed and go to the main room for dinner, so I left my bed over Jason’s protests. “I’m not fragile,” I told him. “You can’t treat me like I am.”
Emma sat at a table by herself. I started to join her, but she glared at me. “Stay back, troublemaker.”
I found another table instead. We were having lasagna for dinner that night, and it was pretty good. Boone joined us for dinner. He sat next to Grace, and I noticed there was a distinct lack of his yelling at her or her calling him names. They were getting along much better.
Jude came out to get his dinner too. I expected him to disappear to his room with it, but he actually came to our table and sat down.
I smiled at him. “I had some time on my hands, so I got through your books. You want them back?”
He nodded. “Sure.”
“I still couldn’t totally figure out where some of that stuff was going,” I said. “I made notes and everything.”
“Detailed notes?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said.
“Jude gave you books?” said Jason.
Hadn’t I told him about this? Jude had made it clear that he didn’t want to discuss anything in detail in front of the cameras, so I guess I hadn’t felt like it was a good idea to bring it up with Jason either. If we took a shower later, I would tell him everything. Maybe he could figure out why Jude wanted me to read about vampires and gods. I sure as heck couldn’t.
I nodded.
“What kind of books?” said Jason.
“Just books,” I said.
“It’s not a big deal,” said Jude.
Jason tossed his plastic fork onto his tray. “Why are you eating with us, anyway? I thought you stayed clear of everyone.”
Jude picked up his tray. “Forget it. I’ll leave.” He turned to me. “I’ll pick up the books later, okay?”
I put my hand on his arm. “You don’t have to go.”
“Oh, he doesn’t?” Jason fixed me with a very annoyed look.
“Dude,” said Boone, “you should have never messed with his girl. I know we were all doped up and stuff, but that was a bad move.”
Jason sat back in his chair. “Yeah, about that. I never did get a chance to talk to you about it. What the hell were you doing, anyway?”
“Jason, don’t,” I said. “You know we were all crazy. The aphrodisiacs made it impossible to think straight.”
“Right,” said Jason, “and if this were the first incident, then I’d let it go.” He pushed up from his chair and jammed a finger in Jude’s face. “But you have a history of shit like this.”
Jude set his tray down and stood up, nose to nose with Jason. “How do you figure that?”
“Oh, come on,” said Jason. “You’ve been trying to move in on her ever since the first time we met you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said. “There’s nothing between me and Jude. Sit down.”
He shot a glance at me. “This isn’t about you. I trust you.” He swung back to look at Jude. “I don’t trust you. I never have.”
“Move in on her?” Jude shook his head. “Uh-uh. It’s all in your head, man.”
Jason let out a disbelieving laugh. “No way. I see the way you look at her.”
Jude clenched his teeth. “ She kissed me . I never once tried a single thing. It would have blown my cover.”
“Wait,” said Grace. “You kissed him?”
I sighed. “I told you about that, remember? I was only trying to get away from him. I had to distract him, and he fell for it. Besides, it was a million years ago.”
“But he’s spent all that time rotting away in here,” said Jason. “Probably thinking about you every time he beats off.”
Jude ran a hand through his hair. “I’m not into her. I swear to God.”
Jason leaned in close. “You’ve been in here for ten years, right? Guess beating off is as close as you’ve ever gotten to the real thing.”
Jude shoved Jason. “Shut up.”
Jason strode around the table and grabbed Jude by the front of his jumpsuit. “Careful, little brother. You know if we get into a scuffle, I’m going to win.”
“Right,” Jude spat in his face, “because dear old Dad Teddy made sure to train you , while he left me with our crazy mother.”
Jason let go of him. “You think that was a cake walk? Do you have any idea what the Sons made me do?”
“Do you have any idea what it was like growing up with a woman who was seriously deranged?”
“At least you had something like a normal life,” said Jason. “You got to go to school. You got to talk on the phone. You could have friends.”
“With a mother like Crazy Lady Weem?” Jude snorted. “I didn’t have any friends. And you can take care of yourself. You’re in here less than a month, and they block off the gym and take away the TV. I’ve been here ten years . I never got close to getting out. If our parents had thought I was special, the way they thought you were—”
“I was special.” Jason’s eyes blazed. “I was so special that I got to go just as crazy as our stupid mother. I forced people to kill for me. I controlled their minds. I made them like it.” He retreated, taking several deep breaths. “You don’t want to be me, little brother. Trust me.”
Jude swallowed. “You don’t want to be me either.”
So that was what all of this was about. It wasn’t about me at all. Why hadn’t I seen it before? I remembered the things Jason had said when we were back in Italy, when I found out he had Jude tied up in the basement of an old building at our school. For the first time ever, when Jason talked about his family, I had seen a spark of emotion.
I got
it now.
Jude made Jason see his parents differently. Before Jude, they’d only been unfeeling people, who’d used him as a pawn in their demented schemes. After Jude, Jason had seen that they’d had another side. There had been another little boy, one they hadn’t used and manipulated.
At least he didn’t think they had. He couldn’t see that Jude had been manipulated and used too.
“You controlled people’s minds?” said Boone.
Jason didn’t say anything.
“You remember what I was saying about Kieran and Eve?” I said.
Boone’s eyes widened. “That was true?”
Jude crossed the room to Jason. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry I shot you.”
“I’m sorry I tied you up and tortured you,” said Jason.
Jude stuck out his hand. Jason put his in it, and they shook furiously. Somewhere in the middle of it, the shake turned into a hug. They slapped each other on the back hard.
And then they released each other.
I caught Grace’s eye. “Boys are weird.”
She laughed.
It was true, though. I never quite understood how guys could be ready to beat each other up and then be friends right afterwards. Of course, maybe “friends” was putting it too strongly. After they stopped hugging, Jason and Jude came back to the table, and neither said a word the rest of the time we were eating.
After dinner, Jude came by and took the books back. I still wondered why he wanted to know about how we’d healed from the coma, but I didn’t expect we’d have a chance to really talk about it. Not with the cameras everywhere. Not considering Jude wanted to keep everything secret.
I did get in the shower with Jason and explain all of the stuff in the books to him. He didn’t spend much time puzzling over it. He said, “Jude’s been in here for a long time. He’s been thinking about all of this way too much. The important thing is to get out. We need to be focusing on escape.”
I agreed with that. “So, our plan is to try to take hostages when they take our blood?”
“Definitely,” he said. “I’ll get one of those doctors, hold him up to the cameras and tell them I’m going to blow his head off if they don’t let us out.”
“What if they don’t care about their doctors?” I asked.
“Then we make the doctors get us out,” said Jason. “What person isn’t going to open that elevator in Jude’s wing if he’s threatened with death?”
“You’re right,” I said. “It’s a good plan. We just have to be ready when they come.”
Jason narrowed his eyes. “Oh, I’m ready.”
* * *
Later that evening, I was in the library, actually looking for a book to read to pass the time since the movies were all gone. There wasn’t a lot of very interesting stuff there. I thought that my initial idea that they’d gotten the library donated from some professor’s estate might have been true. There were books about anthropology. Books of literary criticism. There didn’t seem to be one single novel in the lot. Sure, there was a complete works of Shakespeare, but I remembered trying to read that stuff in high school. It gave me a headache, and I always needed the teacher to explain it to me the next day anyway.
I wrinkled up my nose and pulled a book off the shelf at random. I opened it to the title page. In Search of the Elixir of Life . In the upper corner was a handwritten note, “Property of Bartholomew Penn.”
Great. Now we knew who to blame for this boring collection of books. He even sounded boring. Bartholomew? Seriously?
I slid the book back on the shelf. And then I saw something that made me start. A memory swam back to me. Jason and I were beneath the library in the Sol Solis School in Italy. Professor Moretti was yammering on about how Jason was the chosen one or whatever. And he had a book.
Moretti handed the book he was holding to Jason. “However, Ted showed me this.”
Jason opened the book. It was very old. The pages were crumbly around the edges. The interior was in a language I couldn’t understand. “Is this in Latin?” asked Jason. He turned to the title page. Then he looked up at Moretti. “A book about King Arthur?” he said. “Are you kidding?”
“Not just any book about King Arthur,” said Moretti. “This is a book that traces the genealogy of the historical King Arthur.”
I pulled the book off the shelf. Was it the same one? It looked the same. It was in Latin, just like that one had been. I thought it was. I held it, carefully paging through words I couldn’t understand. Why was this book here?
It had belonged to Professor Moretti. The same man who’d assured us that the Sons had disposed of Jude’s body.
But Jude was here. We only had Moretti’s word that the Sons had disposed of him, and he’d obviously survived.
So, how had this book ended up here anyway?
Should I bring it with me and show it to Jason? If we were dealing with the Sons, then we were going to have to be careful how we engaged them. They were just as skilled as Jason at fighting.
I clutched it to my chest and started out of the library. But at the door, I heard the voices of Grace and Boone. They were in his wing.
“You kissed me and don’t pretend like it didn’t happen, you dick!” said Grace.
Hmm. That didn’t sound like a conversation I wanted to walk in on. I leaned against the door, unsure of whether I should open it. If I didn’t, I’d essentially be eavesdropping, and this was none of my business.
At the same time, I was curious. Boone had kissed Grace? When had this happened?
“It was a mistake,” said Boone. “I was happy to be alive. I thought I was going to die of thirst.”
“Well, you didn’t die, asswipe. Because I took care of you. And now you’re back to treating me like a kid.”
“You are a kid.”
“So are you.”
A heavy sigh from Boone. “Look, Grace, we’re stuck in this place, and there aren’t very many people around. So, of course, we’re gonna feel... things. Because, you know, there’s no one else around. But that’s all it is.”
“So you’re saying you only kissed me because there was no one else to kiss.”
“Basically.”
“You motherfucking bastard. I hoped your dick rots off and your balls swell up to the size of baseballs before bursting really fucking painfully.”
I winced. She did have a mouth on her, didn’t she?
The door to the library was thrust open.
I scurried out of the way just in time for Grace to come in and slam it behind herself. She turned on me, furious. “Were you listening ?”
“I, um, was in the library, and I couldn’t help but hear, but it wasn’t on purpose.”
She glowered at me.
“Sorry,” I said.
She kicked the door. “I shouldn’t have come in here. Now I’ve got to walk past his room to get back to my wing.”
I winced. “Sorry?” I didn’t seem to be able to think of anything else to say.
“He’s such an asshole,” she said. “Or are you going to defend him again?”
I bit my lip. “I think he’s confused. He’s a teenager.”
She narrowed her eyes.
Oops. Wrong thing to say. “Look, guys aren’t always as deeply into commitment as girls. Especially when they’re young.”
“That would make sense if he wanted to play the field or something, but there’s no field to play down here,” she said.
I opened my mouth to tell her that guys didn’t always make sense, but I never got there, because the now-familiar white clouds of gas started hissing out of the ceiling, and I started to feel sleepy. My last thought before I passed out was that if they were drawing our blood, I really hoped Jason and I were ready.
CHAPTER TEN
It was the rattle of gunfire that woke me up. I felt worse than I’d ever felt after being gassed like that. My whole body seemed sore, and I could distinctly feel the pressure of a needle at my elbow and my blood flowing out of
it. I felt lightheaded. Sluggish.
But I didn’t move. I didn’t even open my eyes. The fact that they thought I was out right now was my best advantage, and I wasn’t about to blow it until I had an idea of what was going on.
“What was that?” said a voice, male.
“Probably had to take down one of them. They’re awfully uncooperative these days,” said a female voice, quite close.
I could tell that I was strapped down to a bed, probably the bed in my room, if what Boone had said earlier was true. But the arm that had a needle in it was free. Maybe the tight bindings would have stopped the flow of blood or something.
“I’m going to check it out,” said the first voice. “You’ve got that one, right?”
“Yeah, she should have been awake five minutes ago. I don’t know what’s wrong with her.”
I heard the door to my room close. That meant I was alone with the female. I opened my eyes. A masked face loomed over me.
I didn’t waste a second. I brought my head up as hard as I could, hitting the woman’s skull with mine.
Ouch. That really hurt. But I didn’t have time to consider the pain. I had to move. I scrabbled at the straps that held me down, keeping an eye on the masked woman.
She had stumbled back from the bed, clutching her forehead.
One strap free. The top one. It would have to be enough. I inched my way up, using my back muscles to get higher on the bed. Once my other arm was free, I wriggled out of the bindings. The woman began to recover and come for me.
“Need help here!” she yelled.
I launched off the bed feet first, driving my shoes into her stomach.
She grunted and lost her footing, sitting down hard on the ground.
On my feet now, I aimed a kick at her face, and it connected. There was a crunching noise, and blood spewed out. I’d broken her nose.
She shrieked.
I ran past her, into the hallway. I might be free, but I needed a gun.
Right outside the door, I was greeted by a man wearing black clothes and brandishing a fully automatic rifle. Great. That thing was an aim-and-spray. I surveyed the guy quickly. Despite his black clothes, I didn’t think he was Sons. The Sons rarely carried military-grade weapons like that. Their skills and training were what made them deadly, not their fancy guns.
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