Read Red Handed Online

Authors: Gena Showalter

Red Handed (8 page)

“And the redhead with the sweet voice?”

“That's Siren.”

Perfect name
, I thought. She had a bad personality, but I suspected her voice could convince people to do anything. “Is
she
human?”

“Yeah. Don't worry, though. You won't see much of her. She helps gather the new recruits and then disappears for a while. I don't know where.”

Before I could respond, the door opened. A young girl was ushered inside the room by Roses. She had the weirdest hair I'd ever seen, with orange-gold stripes and brown and white hunks. Her eyes were up-tilted and golden, the irises pointed on top and bottom. Her skin was a pretty amber.

Roses somehow seemed taller and more muscled than I remembered. “Phoenix, meet Kitten,” he said, “Kitten, meet Phoenix.”

Kitten's lips curled in a welcoming smile, and I returned the greeting, no longer feeling quite so alone. She wasn't the ginormous musclegirl I'd envisioned. She was actually delicate and serene looking, like the other Terans I'd seen.

How had this creature fought an Ell Rollis and won?

“Nice to
see
you,” she said.

“You, too.” Why had an alien been chosen for an alien-fighting camp? Seemed weird to me. Wouldn't that mean she'd have to kill her own kind?

“Now I know everyone's name but yours,” I said to Roses.

“I am Kadar.” He leveled a hard gaze on Ryan. “Let's go, boy. Your father wants you back in the room.”

His father?

I must have said the words aloud because Kadar said, “Boss. Top Brass, the big cheese.”

My mouth fell open, and I glanced questioningly at Ryan.

He wasn't looking at me but at Kadar—who was in the process of turning on his heel and striding away, completely unconcerned. Ryan followed after him without a word. The moment he left the room, the door closed with a quiet whoosh.

His dad was the man in charge. I didn't know what to think of that.

“What the hell was that Q and A about?” Kitten burst out the moment we were alone. “They asked me the freakiest questions ever. Ev-er. My sister told me they'd interview me, but she didn't mention an all-out interrogation. They knew about every mistake I'd ever made.”

“Me, too.” Thankfully she didn't ask what my mistakes were. I explained what Ryan had told me, and Kitten's eyes—those lovely cat eyes of hers—titled higher. She actually purred.

“How long do you think we'll have to stay in this room?” she asked, rubbing her hands together. “I'm ready for action.”

“I don't know.” Also I didn't know why Boss failed to explain any of this to us. Did he
want
us left in the dark? If so, why? I mean, if the man's goal was to heap as much stress on us as possible, he'd already succeeded.

“I wonder how many kids are here and how they'll react to me,” she said, the barest hint of vulnerability in her voice. “You know, 'cause I'm an Outer.”

That she feared being rejected really resonated with me. If I hadn't liked her already, I would have then. “
I
like you,” I said.

“Maybe we can be partners or something. But you better not let me down. I refuse to be one of the losers sent home.” She pranced around the small room, radiating excitement. She even rubbed her temples against the walls. “Just think. If we make it to the end of the program, we'll get to fight crime and all that shit. There's nothing better than kicking ass and taking names!”

I could think of a few things I liked better. Boys, music,
relaxing
.

“This is, without a doubt, the coolest thing to ever happen to me.” As she spoke, her nails elongated to sharp points. The slight sheen of golden hair on her skin stood at attention.

I'd never been in a fight just for the fun of it. But I didn't have nine lives—did she?—so was going to be careful with the one I had. Finally.

“I wonder if we'll get to stay in barracks with the boys or not,” she said.

“I don't know.” What I wondered was if the instructors lived here. Say, a certain hand-to-hand combat instructor named Ryan…. Did he have a girlfriend? My hands tightened into fists at the thought.

“Uh, who are you thinking about, girl?” Kitten smiled over at me. “Your face got all gushy and red. And you better not say Bradley. I'd have to hurt you. That boy is a mhore and no friend of mine is going to date a mhore. Wait. We are going to be friends, right?”

“Yes.” I blinked in confusion. “A what now?”

“A mhore. A male whore.”

I barked out a laugh. “You don't have to worry about me and Bradie boy. He's not my type.” I hadn't dated in a while and had rarely dated boys my own age, but I didn't tell her that. I didn't want her to ask questions, like where I'd met my last boyfriend. Then I'd have to admit I'd been to rehab.

“So we're friends?” Kitten asked again.

“I hope so. I could use one right now.”

“Me, too.” She leaned close, whispering, “Who
were
you—”

The door opened for the third time, and the ballerina—Mia Snow, Ryan had called her—strode inside, holding a plastic cup. Kitten pressed her lips together and stared in awe.

Mia wore confidence like a cloak; it oozed from her. Despite that confidence, she didn't look capable of fighting me and actually winning. I was taller than she was by two inches.

However, she did look capable of killing me in cold blood. There was something about those enigmatic blue eyes that said, “Enjoy your current breath because it's your last.”

Why had she fought for me? I didn't understand and was afraid to hope she saw something good in me. Yeah, she'd mentioned passion. But that didn't seem like enough to me.

“My name is Mia, and I'll be your guide.” She stopped just in front of us and slapped the cup in my hand. “This is for you. I'm sure you already know the drill.”

A blush heated my cheeks. My first drug test would be today, it seemed. Kitten stared at the cup in confusion.

So I wouldn't have to comment, I returned my attention to Mia, who was clad from neck to toe in skin-tight black syn-leather. At least, I thought it was syn-leather. I'd never seen material so soft and supple. Surely it wasn't real.

When the aliens had first came to our planet through inter-world portals and war had erupted, animals and plants had nearly been decimated. Some of our lakes had even dried up. We'd had to rebuild, well, everything—one of the reasons we were the “New World.” Now we were a society who relied totally on synthetics—fakes, manufactured reproductions.

I didn't just know that from my history books. I knew that because of my great-grandpa. He'd lived through it and had delighted in telling me story after story of poverty and famine. During the rebuilding, the “Enlightened Age,” he said they'd had to find new ways to survive and had relied on alien technology and alien food supplies.

“I'll be here for the next few weeks, helping you settle in,” Mia continued. “If you're lucky, I'll even train you.” Her voice was dainty, but like her eyes, it held layers of sharp steel. “If anyone bothers you or gives you trouble, don't come to me. Handle it yourself. That's part of being an agent.” She paused, studied us. Whether she liked what she saw, I couldn't tell. “I believe a good team works together but a great team likes and respects each other. I can't make the others like you.
You
have to do that.”

O-kay. That had just seriously lowered my chances.

“No questions? Good,” she said before we had time to respond. “Let's do the tour thing. This way.” She pivoted on her heel and seemed to float away.

Kitten and I shared a reeling glance, then trailed after her. I kept the cup at my side as a long, white hallway closed around us. What was it with these people and the color white?

This way, you'll stand out on the monitors
, my common sense piped up.

Ahhh. Now that made sense.

“Did Bradley make it or was he rejected?” Kitten asked Mia, and I had to wonder about her obsession with the boy. Seemed like more than simple curiosity.

“For now, he's in,” was Mia's response. “Who knows how long he'll be allowed to stay. He's been taken to the boy's quarters.”

Kitten frowned. “No co-ed, huh. That would have rocked.”

Mia cast a dark glance over her shoulder. “Fraternizing isn't forbidden, but it
is
discouraged. At least in the beginning. Neither of you need the distraction right now.” Her gaze focused on me for a split second longer, hard and knowing.

I experienced a flash of resentment. She'd fought for me, but even she acted like the slightest thing would send me into a drug-induced tailspin.

I bet nothing distracted Agent Mia Snow, though. I stared at her. Long black hair swished over her back. The strands were like a midnight waterfall. Still, she looked like she was marching into battle. Ready to kill.

She made a sharp turn, and the walls became silver panels. “The floors are heat and weight sensitive; they logged you into the database the moment you stepped upon them. Your shoe size was taken, your measurements, and your retinal ID.”

Wow. Talk about high-tech.

Talk about Big Brother. Constantly being watched was one of the reasons cameras had been outlawed without a license.

“This is a restricted area, and we'll know the moment you enter without permission,” Mia said. “The computer will recognize your identity, and because of your measurements, it will know exactly how much of an electric shock to administer to hurt without killing.”

I wasn't impressed by the technology anymore. I was pissed. “We're to be prisoners then?” I gritted out.

She shrugged, unconcerned. “It's for your protection.”

“Oh, really. How so?” I insisted.

“There are other-worlders out there who want nothing more than to destroy this school and everyone inside it. If you were to sneak out, then inadvertently lead them back here…understand now?” she said.

My irritation drained, and I slowly nodded. Kitten did, too. If I decided to leave permanently, would they let me go without a fight? Dread slithered through me.

Two more turns and we came to a dead end. Mia placed her hand on one of the silver panels and a blue light flashed, consuming her arm to the elbow. At the same time, a red beam scanned her face.

“Welcome, Mia Snow,” a computerized voice said.

The dead end split down the center, revealing a wide chasm that opened into a room far different from everything I'd seen of the camp up to that point. Bright colors. Furniture. Comfort. Like home.

Despite that, my palms began to sweat.

We entered a lounge area, and there was a smattering of girls. Some were watching a holoscreen, some were sitting at a table, snacking and talking, and some were strewn out on chairs and couches, reading. All of them stopped what they were doing and simply stared at me and Kitten. Conversations tapered to quiet.

Don't notice the cup, don't notice the cup
. No one looked remotely friendly. No one said a word to us or even waved.

Kitten, I saw, was the only other-worlder in the group.

Mia kept a steady pace in front of us. “This area is known as the Common. You can relax and socialize here in your free time.”

“You mentioned that we aren't allowed to leave the building,” I said. “Does that mean we can't go outside at all?”

“Not for a while,” Mia replied. “For the reason I mentioned before and because most of the world doesn't know about this program and that's the way we want to keep it. Once we know you can be trusted to keep the secret, even under torture, and once we know you are good enough to spot and lose a shadow, you will be allowed to leave at your leisure.”

Forget the spotting and losing of a shadow. I had a feeling it would take a long time to convince the agents to trust me with their secrets. Not only that, but torture? The only way to prove I could keep a secret while being tortured was to actually be tortured and keep the secret. A shudder raked my spine.

We exited the Common and entered a forked foyer. The walls were painted a pretty shade of blue, but there were no holoimages, no pictures.

Mia turned left. “Your room is this way,” she said. “I hope you're memorizing the path.”

Uh, no. I hadn't been. There were a few girls in this hallway, and they mashed themselves against the wall as Mia passed them.

“Everyone has a roommate,” she continued. “There is to be no fighting in your room. Save it for the combat arena.”

Rolling her eyes, Kitten raised her fist up and down in front of her chest, mimicking a guy masturbating.

“I see that, girl,” Mia said without turning around.

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