I woke to Aunt Lauren shaking me.
"I know you're tired, hon. Just come on inside and you can go back to sleep."
I stumbled out of the car. She caught me, Rae diving in to help.
"Is she okay?" Rae asked my aunt. "She lost a lot of blood."
"She's exhausted. You both must be."
When the cold air hit, I yawned and gave my head a sharp shake. I could make out a building in front of me. I blinked hard and it came into focus. A yellow brick rectangle with a single, unmarked door.
"Is this the hospital?"
"No, it's a walk-in clinic. I called Buffalo General and Mercy and their emergencies are packed. A typical Sunday morning. Between the Saturday night gunshot wounds and the drunk drivers, it's a zoo. I know a doctor here and we'll get you straight in."
She looked up as a small, gray-haired woman rounded the corner. "Oh, there's Sue. She's a nurse here. Rae, Sue's going to take you over to the waiting room, get you some breakfast, and check you over."
I peered at the woman as I struggled to focus. She looked familiar. When she stopped to talk to my aunt, I realized she must be her friend. But even after she walked away, it niggled at the back of my foggy brain, some connection I wasn't getting.
It wasn't until we were inside that I remembered where I'd seen her. Just last night, clutching the chain-link fence, calling my name.
I wheeled on Aunt Lauren. "That woman —"
"Sue, yes. She's a nurse here. She'll take good care of—"
"No! I saw her last night with the man who shot at us."
Aunt Lauren's face crumpled and she put her arm around me. "No, honey, that's not the same woman. You've been through a lot and you're confused —"
I pushed her away. "I'm not. I saw her. Is she the one who recommended Lyle House? We need to get out of here."
I ducked out of her grasp and raced back to the door. I grabbed the handle, but she caught up, holding it shut.
"Chloe, listen to me. You need to —"
"I need to get out." I pulled on the door with both hands, but she held it fast. "Please, Aunt Lauren, you don't understand. We have to get out of here."
"Would someone please help Dr. Fellows?" a voice echoed down the hall. I turned to see Dr. Davidoff striding toward us.
A man hurried past him, coming at me with a syringe.
"That won't be necessary, Marcel," Aunt Lauren snapped. "I've already given her something."
"And I can see it's working very well. Bruce, sedate Chloe, please."
I looked up at Aunt Lauren. "Y-you drugged me?"
Her arms went around me. "You'll be okay, hon. I promise."
I lashed out, hitting her so hard she stumbled back. Then she turned on Dr. Davidoff.
"I told you this wasn't the way to handle it. I told you to leave it to me."
"Leave what to you?" I said, taking a slow step back and hitting the door.
She reached for me, but my hands flew up, warding her off.
"Leave what to you?"
The man with the syringe caught my arm. I tried to yank away, but the needle went in. Aunt Lauren stepped toward me, mouth opening. Then a woman hurried down the hall, calling to Dr. Davidoff.
"The team just called in a report, sir. There's no sign of the boys."
"Surprise, surprise," Aunt Lauren said, turning to Dr. Davidoff. "Kit taught them well. Once they're gone, they'll keep running. I warned you."
"We'll find them."
"You'd better, and when you do, I expect that brute to be handled the way he should have been handled years ago. Put down like a rabid dog. Wait until you see what he did to Chloe's arm."
"D-Derek?" I struggled against the pull of the sedative. "Derek didn't do this. I cut myself —"
Aunt Lauren caught me as I slid down the wall. I tried to push her away, but my arms wouldn't respond. She shouted for them to hurry with the stretcher, then leaned over me, holding me steady.
"You don't need to cover for him, Chloe," she whispered. "We know what he is." A glare back at Dr. Davidoff. "A monster. One that didn't belong in the . . ."
I didn't catch her next few words. The hall flickered, fading.
When I focused, I saw her face over mine. "But we won't let him hurt Simon, Chloe. I promise you that. When you wake up, you're going to help us find Simon and bring him home. I know he's important to you. He's important to all of us. You all are. You and Rachelle and Simon and Victoria. Very special. You're —"
Everything went dark.
Forty-seven
I LAY AWAKE, STARING AT the wall. I couldn't bring myself to roll over and look around. Couldn't even bother lifting my head from the pillow. I could feel the pull of the sedative, luring me back into sleep, but I kept my eyes open, gaze fixed on the green painted wall.
Aunt Lauren had betrayed me.
When she'd thought I'd been fooling around with Derek, I'd felt betrayed. Now I looked back on how furious I'd been and my throat tightened as I prayed I could go back there, to where that was the worst thing I could ever imagine her doing.
It was all a lie.
She was a lie. Our relationship was a lie.
Even when I was a child seeing bogeymen in the basement, she'd known perfectly well I was seeing ghosts. My mother knew it —that's why she'd insisted we move.
I fingered my necklace. Was this more than a silly talisman to convince me I was safe? Did my mother really think it would protect me? Is that why Aunt Lauren had insisted I wear it at Lyle House? Simon said necromancy was hereditary. If both my mother and my aunt had known about the ghosts, it must run in their blood.
Did my father know? Was that why he stayed away from me? Because I was a freak?
I thought about my mother. About the accident. The hit-and-run driver had never been found. Had it really been an accident? Or had someone killed —?
No. I squeezed the thought from my brain as I clutched the pillow tighter. I couldn't let my mind start running away like that or I'd go crazy.
Crazy.
Aunt Lauren knew I wasn't crazy, and she let me think I was. Shipped me off to a group home.
A group home filled with other supernatural kids.
When Aunt Lauren said we were special, she'd included Rae. So she must really be one of those half-demons. What about Tori? What was she? Did her mother know? If her mother worked for them, she must know, and if she did, and blamed Tori for not getting better . . .
What kind of parent would do that?
But hadn't my aunt done the same thing? Only she sweetened it with smiles and hugs and maybe that was worse. Right now, it felt worse.
Was Lyle House where they sent us when things went wrong? Put us there and medicated us and tried to tell us we had a mental illness? But why? Wouldn't the truth be easier? Why not tell us when we were young and prepare us, and teach us how to control it?
From what Simon said, that's the way it was supposed to work. You told your kids and you trained them how to use and hide their powers before they lost control.
What was Lyle House?
I remembered what Simon said about his dad.
He worked for this research company, supernatural doctors and scientists trying to make things easier for other supernaturals.
Then I heard the ghost of the witch buried in the basement.
Sam Lyle promised us an easier life. That's what we all want, isn't it? Power without price . . . You see, little girl, all scientific advancement requires experimentation, and experimentation requires subjects, and that's what Michael and I were. Lab rats sacrificed to the vision of a madman.
I leaped up, heart thudding so hard I couldn't breathe.
Aunt Lauren said we were special. All of us. Rae and Simon and Tori and me.
But not Derek.