The Awakening

Ten

WE RODE IN A minivan with Dr. Davidoff, Tori’s mom, and a driver I didn’t recognize—a blond security guy. Behind us, in another car, was Sue, a balding driver, and the dark-haired man who’d had the gun the night we’d escaped Lyle House.

There was a fourth person in that car: Aunt Lauren. I hadn’t seen her—I knew only because Dr. Davidoff said she would be. When he did, I’d scrambled into the van as fast as I could, so I wouldn’t see her come out.

How was I going to face Aunt Lauren? Even thinking about it made my stomach ache. I’d spent the last twenty-four hours trying hard not to think about her, about what she’d done.

My mom died when I was five. Aunt Lauren was her younger sister. In all the years of moving around with my dad, who was always away on business, leaving me with a succession of nannies and housekeepers, Aunt Lauren had been the one sure thing in my life. The person I could count on. So after I escaped, when I got hurt, and Rae and I were separated from the guys, we’d gone to her for help.

And Aunt Lauren took me back to Dr. Davidoff. If she’d thought she was sending her delusional niece back to the nice folks who could help her, then as angry and hurt as I’d have been, I’d have understood. But Aunt Lauren hadn’t been tricked by these people. She was one of them.

She’d put me—or my mom, I guess—in their experiment. She’d let them kill Brady and Liz and the other girl, had maybe even helped them do it. And now, knowing all this, I had to face her and pretend it was okay.

The minivan had a middle seat that could turn around, and that’s where Tori’s mom sat. For the first part of the trip, she read her Wall Street Journal, gaze lifting now and then to be sure we hadn’t vanished. Tori and I rode, staring out our respective side windows, as if they weren’t too darkly tinted for us to see more than shapes outside.

There’d been no chance to grab my backpack. Even Tori hadn’t been allowed to bring her purse, as much as she’d argued. At least I had money. I’d arrived at Lyle House with my wad of twenties and my bank card stuffed in my shoe, and they were still there. I wore jeans, a long-sleeved shirt, and sneakers. A change of underwear and socks would have been nice, but right now, my bigger concern was how thin my shirt was.

“Dr. Davidoff?” I leaned as far as my seat belt would allow. “Did you get that sweatshirt for me?”

“Oh, yes. And you’ll need it. It’s chilly out. Diane? Could you pass this to Chloe?”

When I saw the green hoodie coming over the seat, I let out a sigh of relief.

“Isn’t that Liz’s?” Tori said.

“I don’t think so.”

“No?” She snatched it from me and read the tag. “Since when do you wear a ladies’ medium? I bet you aren’t even out of the kid’s department yet.”

“Very funny. Yes, I usually wear a small—”

“Extrasmall.”

“But I like my sweatshirts big, okay?”

“You think I’m stupid? This is the same hoodie I borrowed from Liz—the one you came into my room and asked about the other day.”

Tori’s mom lowered her newspaper.

“I—I thought Liz might want it back. Rae mentioned that you still had it so—”

“So you appointed yourself keeper of my friend’s stuff?”

Tori’s mom folded the paper onto her lap, her long red finger nails ironing the crease. “Is that Liz’s sweatshirt, Chloe?”

“M-maybe. When we left Lyle House, I grabbed clothes in the dark. I have one that looks like it. I’ll wear it today, then give it to you, so you can get it to Liz.”

“You better.” Tori started handing it back to me.

Her mother plucked it from Tori’s fingers and folded it onto her lap. “I’ll see that Liz gets it.”

“C-can I wear it today? Dr. Davidoff said it’s c-cold—”

“You’ll be fine.”

Tori rolled her eyes. “It’s no big deal, Mom. Just give it to her.”

“I said, no. What part of that isn’t clear, Victoria?”

Tori grumbled under her breath and turned back to her window.

Her mom looked at me, her expression unreadable. “I’m sure you’ll be just fine without it.”

When the driver dropped us off on the street behind the factory complex, my teeth were chattering, and not just from the cold. Tori’s mom knew why I’d had that sweatshirt—and that I had realized Liz was dead. Why else would a necromancer make a point of getting a personal article from her?

First Dr. Davidoff, now Tori’s mom. Did anyone not see through my schemes?

Maybe one person. The one who might still see me as sweet little Chloe. The one who thought I hadn’t really meant to run away from Lyle House but just got caught up in the plots of those boys.

“Aunt Lauren?”

I walked over as she got out of the car with Sue. I felt like I was looking at a stranger who’d taken my aunt’s form.

“You’re freezing.” She rubbed my arms, being careful with the injured one. “Where’s your coat?”

I saw Tori’s mom watching. If I tattled to Aunt Lauren, she’d tell her why I wanted Liz’s hoodie.

“I forgot it. It was warmer last week.”

She looked around. “Does anyone have an extra—?”

The dark-haired man from Saturday night climbed from the front seat and held out a nylon jacket.

“Thanks, Mike,” Aunt Lauren said, and helped me into it.

The sleeves dangled six inches past my fingertips. I rolled them up, hoping the extra folds would keep me warmer, but the jacket was so thin it didn’t even seem to stop the wind.

“Do you have the insulin?” I asked.

“I do, hon. Don’t worry.”

As the group prepared for the search, I stayed close to Aunt Lauren. She liked that, and kept her arm around me, rubbing my shoulder, as if to keep me warm. I gritted my teeth and let her.

“Now, Chloe,” Dr. Davidoff said when everyone was ready, “tell us where to look.”

The real rendezvous point was the warehouse nearest the factory. So the goal was to keep them as far from that as possible, in case the guys decided now was a good time to check in.

“We started in the warehouse where you guys tracked us and I did this—” I lifted my injured arm.

“Climbing out the window,” Dr. Davidoff said.

I nodded. “I didn’t know I’d hurt myself, so we ran. Derek wanted to get us as far from that warehouse as possible. We seemed to run and run, going around all these storage buildings, trying to find a good hiding spot. I—I wasn’t paying much attention. It was dark and I couldn’t see. Derek could, so I followed him.”

“A werewolf’s enhanced night vision,” Dr. Davidoff murmured.

“We finally found a spot that Derek said would make a good place to hide and we should stay there until you guys left. But then he smelled the blood—”

Aunt Lauren’s hand tightened on my shoulder, as if imagining me seconds away from being devoured.

“So he helped me,” I continued. “He bandaged it up. But he said it was bad and I needed stitches. Then he smelled Simon. That’s why we left—because of my arm and Simon—but before we did, he said the spot would make a good hiding place, that we should remember it.”

“And you didn’t,” Tori said. “Nice going.”

“It was dark and I was confused. I figured he meant he’d remember it—”

“We understand, Chloe,” Dr. Davidoff said. “And you’re right. It certainly sounds more promising than your other suggestions. As for whether you’ll know it when you see it, though…”

“We had to rip up my T-shirt to bandage my arm. The rest of my shirt should still be there.”

“All right, then. Chloe, you go with Mrs. Enright—”

Aunt Lauren’s hands gripped my shoulders. “I’ll take Chloe.”

“No, you’ll take Victoria.”

“But—”

Tori’s mom cut her off. “Do you have blur spells, Lauren?”

“No, but—”

“Do you have any powers at all?”

Aunt Lauren’s grip on my shoulder tightened. “Yes, Diane. I have the power of medicine, which is why I should be the first on the scene when Simon is found—”

“You’ll be nearby,” Dr. Davidoff said. “I need Chloe to have an escort, but we can’t let the boys see her escort. Diane will take care of that.”