Untouched The Girl in the Box

Chapter 22



I found myself in the cafeteria. The glass had been repaired from when Clary and I had our epic battle, but the kitchen looked as though it were closed. The options for meals appeared to have been carted in by caterers; the serving buffet (which we had destroyed) was gone, replaced by long tables, heating elements and silver devices designed to keep the food warm. Most of the cafeteria ladies were gone, but the few that were left gave me glares as I passed. Nothing new there.

Until I got to the end. I picked up a croissant and put it on my plate, ready to face the inevitable crowd to see if there was a place for me to sit by myself. “Excuse me?” The light voice jarred me and I looked up to see one of the cafeteria workers. She was young, a little older than me, but round of face and with big brown eyes. She smiled at me and I looked back at her. “Thank you. For warning us to get out of the kitchen before it happened.”

I stared at her. “What?”

“When you and the big man fought into the kitchen?” She indicated with her eyes to the corner where M-Squad sat, Clary laughing his way through three plates piled high in front of him. “You warned us to get out right before it exploded.” Her eyes were sincere and her smile was sad. “I just wanted to say thank you.”

“I wouldn’t have let you get caught in the middle of what was going to happen.” I managed to croak the words out. In truth, I didn’t even remember saying anything to them. If I had, it was an offhand comment, no more worthy of recognition than anything else you do without thinking about it.

Yet somewhere, deep inside, I felt Wolfe, almost buried, stir in revulsion. Zollers had given me a second dose of the drug after our session in his office, and the drowsy effects were considerably less (though I was still tired). I could feel him though, in there somewhere, upset at what I had done.

Naturally, it caused me to smile back at the girl. “You’re welcome.”

I walked across the cafeteria to where a guy sat at a table for two, all by his lonesome. He looked, honestly, like someone had stolen all his happy. I stopped in front of him. “Is this seat taken?”

“What do you want?” Scott Byerly’s voice was worn resignation, all shot through with deadness.

“I want...” I took a deep breath. “I want to apologize.” I swallowed my pride and went on as he looked up in surprise. “There may have been some other influences pushing me toward what I did to you, but it was still wrong and ultimately it was on me. I...I’m sorry.”

He seemed to awaken, his glazed-over eyes darting back to life. His leg slid the chair out across from him and a nod of the head was all it took to convince me to sit down. “You know where Kat is?” He looked at me with a little hope.

I froze, mouth full of Swedish meatballs (they were awesome, way better than anything Mom made). “Yes,” I said at last. “She’s in the basement at Headquarters.”

He leaned across the table and whispered to me. “Why is she there?”

“It’s kind of a long story.”

His eyes narrowed. “Maybe you’d prefer to talk about something else? Like, say, damned near killing me?”

I swallowed hard. “You didn’t accept my apology, did you?”

“Not yet. Why is she down there?”

I looked around on all sides of us. Nobody seemed to be very interested, and no one was in earshot. “She didn’t tell you?” I waited until he nodded before I looked around one final time. “The exploding guy, the one that trashed the Science Building—he’s after her. Wants her released from here.”

His face flushed. “She’s not a prisoner. She’s here because she wants to be.”

“That’s not how he sees it.”

His hand slammed the metal table and left an indentation. “It doesn’t matter how he sees it; she’s not going anywhere with him!”

“Take it easy. I’m not arguing with you, just telling you the why.”

He stared off into space and then his eyes came back to me. “You’re a succubus?”

I chewed on the next Swedish meatball, almost afraid to answer. “Yeah.”

“They don’t have the greatest rep among metas.”

I laughed. “Hard to see why that could be; we touch people and they die.”

“‘I’m death’.” He shook his head. “That’s what you meant when you said you were Kat’s opposite.”

“She can give life,” I speared another meatball with particular violence, “all I can do is take it away.”

“Hm.” His eyes were sad. “You haven’t asked me about my power yet.”

“Huh?” I looked back at him. “Oh, yeah. Well, can you blame me? Until now, I was afraid a mutual discussion of powers might out me for the weirdo I am.” I turned my gaze back to my plate. “Besides, I didn’t really want to...um...”

“Be civil?”

I didn’t glare, but it was close. “Connect...with others until now. I didn’t want to be disappointed or burned or let down.” I gritted my teeth. “In case I had to leave abruptly.”

“Leave, huh?” He picked at his food. “I could see that, if I was in your shoes. So why weren’t you more pissed when you found out I wrote that note?”

I flicked my eyes away from him but allowed a slight smile. “With as many real, legit, scary enemies as I’ve got, it seemed like a waste of time to worry about one more person trying to take a shot at me for something I already blamed myself for.”

“Yeah, well, that’s kinda dumb as far as reasons go, but I’ll take it, I guess. I took a cheap shot at you, you took one at me, we’re square.”

I frowned. “Yours helped drive me into a confrontation with a maniac that nearly killed me.”

“Yeah, well yours almost ended up taking my soul.”

“Touche.”

“It’s all a wash—” He stopped, looking past me then nodded slightly. “Here come Zack and Kurt.”

They stopped at our table, Zack looking a little haggard and Kurt looking like a blowfish ready to explode (I saw a nature documentary once). “Hey, guys.” Zack started talking, a little wan and more pale than usual.

“What’s the matter?” I leaned back in my chair, arm draped over the back as I looked up at them. “You look like you’ve had a rough day,” I nodded to Zack, “and you look like you were forced to skip breakfast, lunch and dinner.” I smiled at Kurt.

“Byerly,” Zack said as Kurt glared at me, “Old Man Winter and Ariadne want to see you.”

“Oh?” Scott pushed his tray away. “Might as well go see what that’s about.”

He stood and left, with a nod to Kurt. Zack watched his receding back for a minute then turned to Kurt. “Can you give us a few minutes?”

Kurt didn’t look amused. “Keep your hands to yourself,” he said to me.

“You sure?” I shot him a dazzling smile. “I could goose him a little bit, then maybe you’d look smart and commanding by comparison.” Kurt emitted a grunt and stomped off toward the serving line. “Don’t eat too much! You don’t want to mess up your girlish figure!” I turned back to Zack with a smile. “I just love antagonizing him. It’s like having a little piggy whose tail I can twist any time I want.”

He looked at me warily. “You feel better after making him feel worse?”

I ate another Swedish meatball. “Always.”

“Did Dr. Zollers give you a psychological explanation for why you do that?”

“Don’t need one. It’s because I have time and wit to spare.”

He sighed, his body uncomfortable. “There’s things you haven’t been telling me.”

I put my fork down. “In fairness, there are things I haven’t been telling anyone. It’s not like I’ve been looking forward to admitting I have Wolfe rattling ‘round up here.” I pointed to my head.

“And that you can touch other people’s dreams,” he said, quiet. He wouldn’t meet my eyes, but I thought I recognized his posture. He looked like he’d been betrayed.

“Not something I really wanted to brag about; first because I didn’t know I could trust you guys, then later, because I forgot.”

His eyes were accusatory. “You should have told us.”

“I did.” I felt a little guilt burning at me. “It just took me a little while.”

He stood. “That’s not fair, Sienna. We’ve been square with you since the word go and you’ve been holding out.” He shook his head. “I guess I expected more.”

“More what?” I snapped the words back at him. “You broke into my house, remember? I didn’t come looking for you guys, you stepped into my room with a tranquilizer gun, not vice versa. You talk about trust but you act all surprised that it’s been two weeks and I’m not ready to sign on and be a member of the team. Forgive me for not jumping in and telling you all my dirty little secrets yet.”

He stared at me evenly. “Feel better?”

“A little.” I sighed. “Seriously, though. I’ve been through the ringer with Perugini, Zollers, and now you. Can we just...talk about his later?”

“Yeah.” He looked down at his feet. “Ariadne wanted me to tell you that they assigned you a different room and moved your stuff.”

I took a slip of paper from his proffered hand. “Good timing, actually. This drug Zollers has me on to suppress Wolfe really takes it out of me.”

“Sleep tight,” he said. “I gotta get back to guard duty.”

“Zack,” I called after him when he started to leave. “I’m sorry.”

He nodded his head, just slightly, causing it to bob as he looked back to his shoes. “I know.”

“But it’s all out there now.” I looked at him hopefully. “I don’t think there’s anything else. No more secrets.” I smiled. “Now it’s just decisions to make.”

He smiled. “Get to making ‘em, will you? Kinda curious if I’m gonna be working with you or not.”

“You think you could handle that?” I smiled at him impishly. “You might have to partner with me someday.”

He looked up as though he were thinking about it, then slowly nodded, only a hint of a smile visible, arching his lips up. “I think I could handle that. You know, for the good of the team.”

I flung my napkin at him in mock outrage. “For the good of the team, eh?” He laughed, retreating. “Keep yourself out of trouble, will you? Watch out for men on fire.” I looked at my hand, now covered in a glove and felt the itching that was coming from the last layer of skin returning. “They tend to leave a mark.”

He nodded and gave me a playful salute as he left the cafeteria, Kurt trailing behind him. I rubbed my eyes. Zollers’ drug was putting me down. I looked out one of the windows; it was probably midday, the cloud cover overhead still masking the sun from my sight. I walked back to my room across the grounds, the white blankets of snow still covering to the horizon. It wasn’t quite as oppressive today, for some reason.

I followed room numbers in the dormitory to the one on the paper Zack had given me. I opened the door, feeling like I was ready to collapse. I found a room inside that was the same as the one I’d had before, which gave me a moment’s pause. I unlaced and then kicked off my boots, pulled off my shirt, throwing it straight to the garbage, then stripped off my jeans.

I fell on the bed, on my back, not bothering with the covers. The cool air tickled my exposed skin and below me I felt the silky smoothness of the bedspread. The slight smell of construction was in the air; my old room was just down the hall, after all. I still had the faint aftertaste of Swedish meatballs lingering in my mouth and I hoped that when I woke up there would be more in the cafeteria. If there weren’t, maybe I could order them directly from the caterer. Or that nice girl in the cafeteria who thanked me. Saving her life had to be worth a few Swedish meatballs.

I stared up at the lightbulb above me as my eyes started to shut. They squinted as I tried to force them open one last time, but it didn’t work. I saw the light and it distorted and glared, reminding me of the rising flame in the darkness that was Aleksandr Gavrikov, hovering above me like what the sun must look like, lighting up everything around.

I closed my eyes, and he was there, on fire, just like all the times I had seen him but one. The flames flickered where his skin should have been, an inferno in place of flesh. I could almost smell the burning, taste the ash that should have been in the air. He edged closer to me but there was no heat, and for a bare moment I couldn’t figure it out, then I did. “Dreamwalking,” I whispered.

He floated closer, and I watched the fire recede from his hands, from his face. His dark hair appeared, then his nose and eyes. He looked less pallid than he had when I’d seen him in real life, and the world around us coalesced into my old room. Fire crawled up the walls, slowly burning around us as his feet touched the ground. The silence consumed me like the flames, surrounded me. He stood in front of me, staring into my eyes. “You said you would help me.”

I felt the burn of his almost accusatory stare. “I was trying to save your life.” I looked away, walked a few feet in the other direction, as though placing distance between us could absolve me of my promise. “Not to mention the lives of the others.”

His voice came back to me, cold and empty. “Did you tell them? Do they know what I want?”

“I did.” I turned back to him. “They’re not going to release her. They think you’re a dire threat.”

I saw the haunting in his eyes, the guilt in his face. “I am a dire threat. I am more than that. I am death; more death than they can handle.”

I didn’t blink away from him as he said it, but a part of it hit home. “Sounds familiar. I don’t think they’re going to just give her up on your say so, though.”

He took a deep breath, in and out, closed his eyes and smiled. “Then I’ll convince them. I’m in Glencoe. It’s only about fifteen minutes west of you. Tell them to come and see me and we’ll talk.”

Something about how he said it raised the little hairs on the back of my neck. “You just want to talk? Why do I doubt that?”

“I have a message for them,” he said with an icy calm. “Tell them. I’ll be waiting in the middle of town. Bring as many of their men as they’d like.”

I felt a chill of fear. “I don’t love the way you’re saying that.”

He burst into flames again, his brown eyes replaced by soulless, dancing fire. “Tell them. Tell them to come to me. I’ll be waiting.” He remained afire, but dimmed in my sight until he was gone, replaced by the light over my bed.





Robert J. Crane's books