The Reader Page 15

  “Devon is still at Samara, isn’t he?”

  He smiled at Atarah. “See, Mom? I told you she was smart.”

  “Mom?” I rasped. “She’s your mom?”

  The security guard fastened my other arm to the chair. I struggled, but . . . so sluggish. What had he slipped into my coffee?

  Two men. One can be trusted, the other not. One of my first memories from the shore. Or had it been a voice? Why hadn’t I listened?

  “What’s going on?” My head swung between Archer and his mom.

  “Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be okay. I needed to have you secure so you wouldn’t be tempted to run off.” He winked. “You know, when you get upset you like to do that.” He smiled and patted my leg.

  “How is everything going to be okay if I’m strapped to a chair?” I asked through gritted teeth.

  Atarah came over and sat on the coffee table in front of me. “I know this is probably unsettling, but really, Archer is right. You’ll love it here. It’s so . . . serene.” Her face lit up when she spoke.

  “Are you a, uh, a Reader?” I asked.

  “Oh, no!” She laughed and waved her hand in front of her face. “I’m a Jack,” she said with a huge smile.

  My breath caught, and I shivered, as though my blood had turned to ice.

  “Mom, we need to give her information a bit at a time so she doesn’t freak out. Look, she’s shaking.”

  She picked up a bell from the table and rang it. A man dressed in a butler’s uniform entered the room and bowed. “Yes, Ms. Atarah”

  “I’ll need a warm blanket.” She took a closer look at me. “And a heating pad. Do we have one of those?”

  “Yes, Miss Atarah.” He bowed again and left the room.

  “I’m so sorry.” She rubbed my hand. “Oh, you do feel cold. I didn’t mean to startle you. I know the Readers have a campaign to malign all the Jacks. Yes, it’s true, some of the Jacks have given us all a bad name. But we’re not all like that. It’s like any community—a few bad apples.” She shrugged.

  “But, but . . . Archer is a Reader.”

  “Yes, by all appearances. But Archer is half Reader, half Jack. His DNA favors the Reader side, so he’s probably fifty-one percent Reader. He’s lucky, he doesn’t have to change form like the rest of us.

  My gaze turned back to Archer. “But, if you’re more Reader than Jack, why are you here?”

  Atarah’s face scrunched into a frown. “His dad, always such a cold fish, judged poor Archer just because of his Jack blood. At least he never told any of the other Readers. Not for Archer’s benefit, mind you. It was because he didn’t want to lose his standing as the Head Elder. Even back then it was considered a poor choice to even talk to one of us. The Readers have always misunderstood us. He never really trusted you, did he?” she asked Archer.

  He shook his head.

  I wanted to say Archer proved his dad right, but kept it to myself.

  She turned back to me. “The only good thing his dad did was to teach Archer and I to block properly. He’s lived with the Readers all these years without one thought picked up by anyone. We’re the only Jacks who’ve been able to master the technique.” She smoothed her hair and continued. “Archer was never good enough for his father. After the war with the Seers, he sought me out, tired of all his dad’s criticism. We hatched this plan thousands of years ago.” She was back to smiling. “And here you are! All our hard work has paid off.”

  “If you knew where the compound was all this time, why didn’t you move in earlier?”

  “That was the beauty of our plan. We kept Samara’s location limited to a small, select group. Some Jacks can be, what’s the word I want? Oh yes, unpredictable. I worried they’d form a premature strike before you, the Lost One, showed up. The Seers had never made a mistake in their foretelling, so we patiently waited for your arrival.” Atarah licked her lips like she’d just eaten a decadent piece of chocolate. Ugh. “Poor Archer had to live with those people for thousands of years.”

  A shadow of an emotion I couldn’t pinpoint flashed in Archer’s eyes.

  Devon and the others needed to be warned. I struggled with my restraints, trying to be subtle about it so they wouldn’t notice.

  I said to Archer, “Uh, these fasteners are rather tight. I think I’m losing feeling in my hands.”

  Archer walked over to study my hands. He picked up each finger and massaged it. “We can’t loosen them, not until you’ve heard everything about our plans. And your—well, we’ll talk about that later. We’ll untie you after you’ve been given the important details.” He made a tsking sound. “Your fingers have enough circulation. Remember, I’m a doctor.”

  If he winked at me again, I’d scream.

  The haziness cleared, and I searched around the room for a weapon. Archer would be a strong adversary, but I could most likely flatten his mother in thirty seconds or less. I’d only seen two other men so far. The Kubotan was tucked into my purse in the Jeep. Ugh. I examined my restraints. Made of Velcro, they were strong and tight. I twisted my wrists a little more. They wouldn’t budge.

  “So, Archer. You’ve lived with the Readers for thousands of years while planning their deaths?” I asked, trying to wiggle my wrists free.

  His usual warm expression went dark. “Yes, it hasn’t been easy.” He rose and walked toward the floor-to-ceiling windows that highlighted the view of the lake and surrounding mountains. “But, one side has to die. Because of the Seer’s vision, I was forced to choose. I can’t lose my mom.” He turned back to me. “You’ll come to understand my decision. After it’s done, we’ll give you another wipe so you won’t be burdened with these memories.”

  “It’s true then. The Jacks—you—wiped my memory.”

  “Not me. We have a specialized team. As you’ve probably heard, we haven’t perfected it yet.”

  “So you’ll just give me some sort of memory wipe every year, is that your plan?” Not going to happen.

  “No. We’ll only need to do it once or twice. With the subjects we’ve been experimenting on, each time they have a wipe done, they remember less and less.”

  My right wrist loosened a little. If I could keep distracting them from my movement and the noise of the Velcro loosening, I’d be able to grab the glass candle holder and use it as a weapon. Once free, I could take down any attackers, hotwire the Jeep and get myself out of this place.

  “How do you plan to kill the Readers?” I asked.

  Atarah giggled, placing her hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry to be rude, dear. We can’t give you that information. I like you, though. You have spunk.”

  The feeling was not mutual.

  “She does. You should see her in action.” He chuckled. “The Jacks knew you were most likely the Lost One after your parents published the article about you. We’d been tracking you for centuries. Your mom and dad had done a great job hiding you, but we sighted you on a rare outing about a year ago.” He shook his head. “They were so careless. Thousands of years wasted because they wanted to take you to a small town fair.”

  “Why didn’t you just take me then?” Their plan didn’t make sense.

  “We needed to make sure you were the Lost One before taking possession,” Archer’s mom said. “There’ve been mistakes in the past. We’ve almost been exposed too many times.”

  “I suspected it was you when you took Devon down during training.” Archer chuckled. “Mom, you should have seen it. She was great.”

  Atarah nodded in agreement. “She’s perfect.”

  They wouldn’t think so for long. My fingers started to wiggle loose from the bindings.

  “Anyway, I knew for sure when Markus arrived. After he tried to claim you, Devon fell apart. I knew at that moment it was you. The Seers predicted we’d all have a connection with you, and it’s true. Devon never showed any real interest in the new Readers before you showed up.”

  Dread snaked through my body. No. “Archer,” I whispered. “You didn’t. You
killed Markus?”

  “Don’t look at me like that. It was the only way. They all have to die anyway. Markus’s time was just a little sooner.”

  “Devon and Lucy are your cousins and best friends. You’d kill them?” Numb with shock and disbelief, I remembered all the joking around, the movie nights, poker games, and long, philosophical discussions.

  “Like I said, it’s a tough choice, but I made it. I can’t stop the war—it’s been foretold.” He turned to his mom. “I have to protect my mom. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

  Archer had always been a yes man to his dad. Every time they were together, Archer was formal and polite. I should have realized something was off. That’s probably why he’d turned into a mama’s boy.

  My hand was finally free. It was time. With lightning speed, I picked up the metal chair and swung it as high as I could, aiming for Archer’s temple. It connected on the side of his head, and, with a loud yelp and crash, he went down.

  “Archer!” His mom raced to his side.

  I grabbed the glass candlestick and crashed in on the side of the table. I ripped the other restraint from my arm. Freedom. I waved my new weapon at her. “Don’t try to stop me.” I swung it at her for good measure.

  The words she spoke next froze me in place.

  “Maybe you’d like to talk to your parents first?”

  A security man rushed into the room.

  “Winston, get some ice for Archer’s head and bring Ann’s parents to us,” Atarah demanded.

  “You’re bluffing.” I gripped the broken candlestick, ready for battle.

  “They’re already here, Ms. Atarah,” Winston said.

  I braced myself and turned. The two people from my vision on the beach, who they wanted me to believe were my parents, stood hand-in-hand by the entrance. They were a little different, maybe older, but there was no mistaking their identity. I recognized them from my flashback.

  “Ann.” The woman put her hand to her mouth.

  The reaction I had this time was even stronger. My makeshift weapon dropped from my hand, shattering the glass table then tumbling to the floor. I gasped for air, not able to get enough. Flashing dots swirled before my eyes, threatening a blackout.

  The couple moved toward me, but I put up my hand to stop them.

  This could be a trick. These people—imposters.

  Get it together, Ann.

  I asked Atarah. “How do I know they’re really my parents? They could be part of your memory wipe, their picture implanted into my memory somehow.” I turned to the couple and asked, “Did you know they’ve wiped my memory?”

  “We know.” Tears ran down the woman’s face.

  “Do you have any memories of us?” The man stood rigid, waiting for my response.

  “Just the picture of you. That’s all. No memories.”

  His narrowed eyes landed on Atarah. “You said she wouldn’t be hurt.”

  She held ice to Archer’s forehead. “As I’ve told you, Mr. Baker, it will take another six to ten months for it to wear off. She’s not hurt, but look what she’s done to my poor Archer.”

  The woman, who could possibly be my mom, shot a slight grin and subtle nod my way.

  “Will you answer some questions for me?” I asked.

  “Of course, anything,” the man responded.

  “Tell me, what was our favorite movie to watch?” I asked the woman.

  Without hesitation, she said, “Pride and Prejudice.”

  Archer moaned and turned over.

  “Oh, thank goodness, you’re okay.” Atarah placed her hand on Archer’s forehead then sent a glare my way. Yeah, I knew her friendliness would be short-lived.

  I ignored her and asked the man, “What was our favorite dinner?”

  “Spaghetti.”

  “And . . .” I coaxed.

  “Meatballs.” He wiped a tear.

  My mom clapped her hands together. “You do remember some things.”

  “No, sorry. I don’t remember, but I was told about it.” Devon. The day on the river.

  Their smiles and bright eyes gave way to slumped shoulders and a disappointed “Oh.”

  I walked to stand in front of them. “But I believe you.”

  They each took one of my hands, and a comforting warmth swept through me. I had my parents back.

  My mom whispered in my ear, “You have powers, Ann. The memory wipe has made you forget them. Tap into it. You’re going to need them.”

  “What are you whispering about over there? No more talking until after the union,” Atarah said.

  Union? That couldn’t be good.

  Archer groaned again, taking her attention off us for a moment.

  I asked my mom, “Do you know what she’s talking about?”

  “Yes. They seem to think, if you marry a Jack, it will override the soul mate requirement. They have some High Priest or something to do the ceremony.”

  “Marry a Jack?” Archer? Or someone else? It didn’t matter who they chose. I wouldn’t go along with it.

  My mom noticed my expression and said, “I’m so sorry, Ann. They plan to use us as leverage to get you to go along with their plans.”

  “I’ll get us all out. How much security do they have here?” My mind raced with possible plans to escape.

  “They don’t need security for us.” Mom shook her head and held out her arm, revealing an ominous small lump above her wrist which made me uneasy. “They implanted your dad and me with a poison. If you try to remove it, it will release and kill us. They can also trigger it remotely.” She glanced back at Atarah. “If it means you can get away and save the Readers, I want you to escape. No matter what happens to us.”

  My father added, “We’ve talked about this, Ann. We’re prepared to die to save you and the other Readers.”

  “No! There has to be a way to save all of us.” I had to find a way.

  “Our purpose has always been to protect you. If we can get you free, that’s all we want.”

  My mom took my hand. “It’s my fault you’re here, that we’re all here in this place.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We’d hidden you for thousands of years, and tried to make a normal life for you at the same time. But it wasn’t normal. I’m sorry they took your memory, but some things . . .” Her sad eyes met mine. “You’ve been through a lot. Things I wouldn’t have chosen for you. You’re special, remember that.”

  “It’s okay. I understand.” The need to reassure overcame my feelings of loss.

  “I hoped for just one carefree day for you. That’s all, one day at the fair.” She hugged me. “I wanted you to experience some fun.”

  “It was a great day.” My dad smiled. “I think you did a hundred loops on the Ferris wheel.”

  “That sounds like fun.” I didn’t want my mom to feel bad, but I had an idea of what had happened.

  She nodded. “Somehow, the Jacks spotted us. We’d been on their radar for hundreds of years.” She took a deep breath. “We didn’t know about it until it was too late. We thought we were safe. They began to track us. That’s when we published the article, hoping the Readers would find you first.”

  “You didn’t know where the Readers were?”

  “We lost contact with them after the war. We had no way of finding them. As you know, they’ve stayed hidden away from the rest of the world. We knew about the Seers vision and had hoped the Readers would find us before the Jacks.” She glanced over at Archer and Atarah. “But before we could make contact, the Jacks stormed our house. They grabbed you before I could hide you away.” Her cheeks turned red. “I hated putting you in that place, especially after the incident with the rat.”

  Oh. The rat. I wouldn’t tell her the coffin-like hiding place was one of my only memories to come through. She had enough guilt.

  “Enough talking,” Atarah said. “They’ve filled you in about the poison?”

  Archer had gained consciousness and was propped on the couch, listening to our c
onversation.

  “Yes. I know what you’ve planned.”

  “The sooner you come to terms with it the better.” Her brow lifted. “Unless, of course, you want your parents to die?”

  I love you. I’ll find you no matter what it takes.

  My eyes shot open, and I gasped for breath. I clawed at the thing wrapped around my neck, choking me.

  Sheets. They had twisted around while I slept. I pushed the sweaty, matted hair from my face, calmed myself, and glanced around. I’d been too tired to notice the night before, but the bedroom they put me into—or locked me in—was ghastly. How old did they think I was, five? Pink walls, pink furniture, with a platform bed and a frilly, pink canopy. If I didn’t die from sugar-sweet overload, the pink sheets would finish the job.

  It was Devon’s thoughts that woke me, I was sure of it. I squeezed my eyes shut and thought . . . I love you, too. I’ll come back to you, hoping he’d hear me. Not likely though.

  Think.

  I threw the blankets to the side and stepped onto the stool to get off the ridiculous bed. A silvery light came from the window across the room. I pulled the curtains back, and, sure enough, someone had installed bars to keep me in. But they didn’t need them. I didn’t have my memories, but they weren’t able to steal the love I had for my parents. The Jacks couldn’t take that from me, even though they’d taken everything else. They had me at their mercy . . . for now.

  A tap on the door alerted me to Archer’s arrival. After he entered, he turned and spoke to the guard at my door. “I’ll knock when I’m done.” He closed the door and gave me a slight smile. He wore a bandage where I’d struck him. My eyes darted around the room, searching for another weapon.

  “Don’t bother. This room has been stripped clean. You won’t find anything.”

  “Figures,” I said under my breath.

  “What?”

  “Never mind. What is all this?” I gestured to the room.

  He smiled with the same warmth we had as friends. My stomach sank. He wasn’t the sweet, funny Archer I believed he was. Tears started to fill my eyes, but I blinked them away. There wasn’t time to grieve for the friend I’d lost.