Star jumped off the bed so fast, I almost took a tumble over the side.
“You’re going to lock me back in here, aren’t you?” I asked, and for a brief moment, I contemplated running her over like a linebacker. The girl looked as if she could use a supersized Big Mac meal. I could totally take her. I was sure of it, but I still had a gazillion unanswered questions, and until I talked to my parents, I couldn’t leave the fortress.
She eyed me warily. “I’m sorry. It’s for—”
I crossed my arms. “If you say it is for my protection, I’ll be forced to punch you.”
Her doe eyes got as big as saucers. She actually thought I would hit her.
“I’m kidding, mostly,” I added drolly. “I’m just going a little stir-crazy in here. Being contained goes against my free spirit. When do you think I’ll be able to leave this room?”
It was obvious I had made a mistake in teasing her. She clammed up and withdrew into her shell once again. “I should go, and you should get some rest. Your training starts tomorrow. You’ll need your strength.”
Star wasn’t joking.
Chapter Two
I’d both been looking forward to and dreading this day—the day the Institute put me in their training program.
At least I wouldn’t be stuck looking at the same blank walls.
But first, I got a long overdue visit from my father.
About damn time too. Him and me, we had words to discuss. Loads of them, and not all of them pretty, starting with why the hell I was locked in a room. I was fuming. Pacing a room the size of a walk in closet for four days would do that to a person.
The man who had been my idol as a child walked in with a smile on his face. His temples were peppered with gray hair just as I remembered, but the twinkle that had always been in his Irish green eyes was gone. In its place shined a calculated light utterly foreign to me. It changed his whole demeanor. “Good. You’re awake. How are you feeling?”
I blinked, wondering if he was being serious. “Like I’m living a bad dream.”
His hands clasped in front of him, the dark blue Institute uniform stretching over his shoulders. “The effects of the drug should be completely out of your system.”
My heart rate picked up. Inside I was torn in two. A part of me cautious, uncertain who I could trust, and the other part wanted to run into his arms, waiting for him to tell me he was sorry, that he loved me. I just stared at him. “You drugged me. Why?”
He smiled, but there was something off about it, like it had been practiced. “If there was another way, it would have been done, trust me.” He stepped forward and raised a hand in the air, as if to ruffle my hair, but then stopped. “I only want to keep you safe.”
What a laugh. I wasn’t positive I could trust him—my own father.
“The situation was precarious and needed to be handled with care,” he continued. “I would never have done anything to hurt you or that wasn’t in your best interests. I’m your father.”
I didn’t want the father-knows-best speech right now. What I wanted was answers that made sense, but I wasn’t sure he could give me what I needed. “My father wanted to preserve life. He never would have been part of something that destroyed it,” I pointed out.
“You only know what you’ve been told. There is so much more for you to learn, and that is why you’re here: to understand the world as it is now. I might seem different. You’ve changed as well, I see, but no matter what, Charlotte, you’re still my daughter.”
“Funny, I feel like a hostage.”
“I assure you there is nothing to get excited about. It was a precaution and that all changes today. We’re going to teach you the skills you need to survive.”
Was he kidding me? This had to be a sick joke. “If you call being tortured something to get excited about.”
“Muffin—”
Knots formed in my belly at hearing the childhood nickname. “I know you toss aside those who don’t fit into your mutated program. I know you torture those who are Gifted to figure out what they can do,” I cut in, growing more agitated by the second. “I know all about your little operation here. I’ve seen it firsthand. You kill people. Innocent people. You tried to kill me.”
My father frowned. “That is not true. I didn’t know you were with him. You have to understand things are different now.”
“I guess things have changed. I don’t know who you are anymore,” I ground out.
“You may not believe everything I tell you,” he continued, softening his expression, “which is why I think it is important for you to see what we do here with your own eyes, and then maybe you can begin to understand that we’re not the enemy; you can see the truth behind the Institute. Let me show you.”
As if I had a choice. “And if I refuse?”
“You’re curious. I can see it in your eyes. Why not give yourself the chance to see we’re really not the bad guys?”
“Don’t make me regret this,” I grumbled.
The moment my father and I stepped out of the room, two guards fell in step behind us. One of them was Trist. I liked to say it was nice to see a familiar face, but this particular face had once tried to kill me. Both guards were armed, and then, of course, they were also Gifted. The implication was crystal clear: I shouldn’t try any funny business.
As we walked, my father seemed taller than I remembered. “This is the housing wing, where you’ve been staying. There are three floors dedicated to sleeping quarters. The floor you are on is the executive one for staff and management. The other two floors are for trainees. Once recruits go through the program, we help them decide their future.”
“And do you lock everyone in?”
A small smile curved his lips. “No. Believe it or not, this isn’t a prison.”
“But you have a dungeon.”
He nodded. “We do. What civilized society doesn’t have a place to uphold law and order? In any species, there exists good and bad. The dungeons are there to contain threats.”
I wanted to press him, ask about Dash, but I feared being sent back to my own prison.
He ushered me toward an elevator, and I was surprised to see such technology still existed. In the Heights, there was nothing like this; it was as primitive as a land could get. My eyes swept the halls, trying to get a grasp of my surroundings. We had passed a dozen or more doors just like mine.
The elevator felt a little tight with squeezing the four of us into it. I moved closer to the wall, putting as much distance between Trist and me as possible. The other guard leaned forward and hit a button with the letter C on it. There were seven buttons, so I assumed there were seven floors.
“If the top three floors are for housing, what are the others for?” I asked, attempting to get a layout of the tower.