Betrayed (7 page)

Rae slowly sat up, her body cramping in a dozen d i fferent spots after holding still in a small place for so long.

"Aiden," she said softly. "I need to-"

His eyes, wide with shock, met hers in the rearview mirror. The car veered to the left, dangerously close tothe cars
parked along the curb. "Don't move. Don't say anything," Aiden barked. Rae could see the muscles in his neck
tense as he carefully and deliberately drove the half block to the nearest strip mall, pulled in, parked, and turned off
the car.

Slowly he turned toward her. "Rae Voight," he said, sounding like he was talking to himself. His gaze sharpened
on her face, and Rae felt her veins constrict, slowing down the blood flowing through her body. He was just an
ordinary-looking forty-something guy, even sort of dorky with his old-guy little ponytail. But there was a coldness in
his eyes that she could feel in every drop of her blood. "What exactly are you doing in my car?"

Rae pushed herself up onto the backseat. She wasn't going to have his conversation from the floor. "What exactly
am I doing in your car?" she repeated, using Allison's group-therapy technique to give her time to, well, basically,
get her brain-her cold brain-working again. "I'll tell you exactly what I'm doing here," Rae said. "I… I… A woman
called my house and told me to meet you at the Motel 6 last Saturday. When I got there, I was tied up and gagged. I
might not have lived through it if-"

"And you got into my car? What in the hell were you thinking?" Aiden demanded, sounding a lot like Anthony did
when he got pissed off. "Who was itthat grabbed you?" He twisted farther around, grabbing the top of the front seat
with both hands. "What did they look like? I need to know everything you can remember."

"They had masks on," Rae told him. She could describe one of them, the fake meter reader, because she'd seen
him at her house. But she didn't know how much she wanted to let Aiden know she knew.

"How many were there?" Aiden's eyes were practically shooting ice pellets.

"Two," Rae answered. Her fingers itched to sweep the top of the front seat, but Aiden still had a death grip on it.

"And what did they say to you? They must have asked you questions. I need to know everything."

You already said that once, Rae thought. And that tells me that you know a lot. If you didn't, you'd be driving me to
the police station right now so I could make a report. Or at least you'd be taking me home.

"Start with anything," Aiden urged. "A smell. A sound. One detail can help you remember the rest."

"It's not like I'm going to forget anytime soon," Rae answered. She flashed on the feel of the quilted bedspread in
the motel, the feel of the blindfold, and the little beads of sweat its warmth had brought out on the skin around her
eyes. "I'm sorry," Aiden said quietly. He released hishold on the front seat and rubbed his temples. "I'm sorry. It must
have been… I can hardly imagine how you must have felt. But if you tell me what you remember, there might be
some way I can help."

A way he can help. Not the police. Not the FBI. Him. Rae felt like dozens of needles were pricking her from the
inside. Who was Aiden Matthews, really? Because he definitely didn't teach pottery or whatever at the community
center. She knew from going fingertip-to-fingertip with him the last time that he'd seen her mother at the center and
that he had at least some information about experiments done there, possibly on Rae's mother and the other
women in her group. But maybe his involvement went a lot deeper. Did he help on the experiments? Run them?

Was he trying to find out what she knew so he could protect her kidnappers?

Whatever his deal is, it's safe to tell him what you remember from the motel, Rae thought. If he was connected to
the kidnappers, he'd know all that, anyway. But she was suddenly very glad she hadn't admitted that she knew
exactly what one of the kidnappers looked like without his mask.

"There's a Winchell's Donuts over there," Aiden said. "We could go in, get a coffee or a soda for you if that would
help." She shook her head. This was the place Raeneeded to be. "I'm okay. I'd rather just get it over with," she
answered. Then, trying to make the move look completely natural, Rae rested her hands on the top of the front seat.

almost killed again
not even a year since/got to take him down/where/Amanda Reese/

Rae's body turned to steel, hard, unbreakable. And cold, so, so cold. It was as if she'd become a machine and she
wouldn't be able to make a move until someone picked up a remote control and punched in her orders.

"Are you sure?" she heard Aiden ask, his voice coming in distorted through her cold metal ears. "You look pale."

It's your body. You control it. There's no remote, Rae told herself. She concentrated all her attention on her fingers
and managed to make them let go of the front seat. The moment the contact was broken, Rae's body felt like flesh
again. Soft flesh. Flesh that could so easily be hurt. What had made Aiden so hard? So Rae realized that Aiden was
staring at her. She didn't know if he had any idea about the power her mother had. If he did, she didn't want him to
suspect Rae had it, too. Act normal, she told herself.

"It's just that thinking about being held prisoner, it's like I'm suddenly back there," Rae managed tosay. Which was
true. But that was minor compared to the oily fear that was crawling through her now. Aiden's thoughts made it very
clear that he knew at least one of the men who'd kidnapped her. And that man was a killer-or Aiden thought he was.

"Take your time," Aiden told her. "I know it's hard."

"The men didn't ask me any questions," Rae began. "I thought they would. I thought that's why they'd tricked me
into going to the motel," she continued on autopilot. Her head was still full of the thoughts that she'd gotten from
Aiden. Did the "killed again" part have to do with Amanda Reese? Had the man Aiden was thinking of killed Mandy's
mother? That fit in with Rae's theory. It would explain the killed-her-mother thought on the piece of plastic from the
motel.

"And did they-" Aiden hesitated, then plunged on. "Did they draw blood? Or take a tissue sample?"

"No. God, why would you ask that?" Rae burst out. Except she had a decent idea why-maybe there was some way
to tell from her blood or cells that she had a power.

"Did they give you anything to eat or drink?" Aiden asked, ignoring Rae's question. "Tuna sandwich," she
answered. "Did it taste at all unusual?" Aiden pressed.

Translation: Did it taste drugged? Rae thought. "It tasted okay," Rae said. But was it okay? Had she been drugged
in the motel? If she had, had they "Did you hear any conversation between the two men?" Aiden went on. Suddenly
he was like a robot-grilling her with almost no emotion.

"No," Rae said. "Wait, maybe one of them said, 'Get the other one,' or something like that."

"Other one? What did that mean?" Aiden had his hands on top of the seat dividing them again, leaning close.

Is he trying to fake me out? Rae wondered. Trying to convince me he doesn't know anything at all? "My friend
Yana was at the motel with me," she explained, since she wanted Aiden to think she trusted him. "They kept her
there, too." "And that's all you heard?" Aiden asked.

Rae met his gaze, even though it made her feel cold. "Yeah, that's it."

"Is there anything else you can tell me? It doesn't matter how small." Aiden kept his eyes on hers without blinking.

"No," Rae said. She just wanted to get out of there, get home, home to her own room, home with her dad close by.

"Okay," Aiden replied. "Now listen closely. If I ever need to get in touch with you, I'll say it'sbecause your aunt is
sick. Got it? Your aunt is sick. If anyone phones you and claims to be me without using those words, then you call
me immediately."

Rae decided to risk one question of her own. "Do you think someone is watching you? Is that how whoever called
me knew to use your name? Because whoever it was thought I would trust you enough to meet you."

Aiden took Rae's head in his hands and leaned so close, their faces almost touched. "If you don't do exactly as I
say, you could lose everything and everyone you care about." He spoke slowly and deliberately, as if Rae were a
very young child. "If you're contacted again, call me. That's all you need to know."

Right, Rae thought. Just call him. That's easy. That's simple. It's not like every single time I decide who to trust, I'm
putting my life in danger.

The bell rang. Anthony blinked in surprise. He hadn't been expecting it. And how land of the bizarre was that? Had
he ever been in a freakin' class and not known how many minutes until his release? Especially when it was the last
class of the day. Most of the time he'd had his eyes on the clock, watching the second hand's final rotation,
watching the minute hand click into place.

Anthony grabbed his binder and his reading book and jammed them in his backpack, then headed for the door.

"Got a minute?" Jesperson, Anthony's English teacher, asked.

"Uh, sure," Anthony answered, his stomach cramping a little the way it always did when a teacher wanted to talk to
him alone. He came to a stop in frontof Jesperson's desk. Jesperson was half sitting, half leaning on the edge. The
guy hardly ever sat behind it. "What's up?"

"Just wanted to check in with you and see how you're doing. It's a big change moving from Fillmore to here,"

Jesperson said.

"Big, yeah," Anthony agreed. He knew he should say something else, but he'd gotten a case of Bluebird brain.

Nothing but around twenty words in the head anywhere. "But I'm doing okay." "You like your tutor?" Jesperson
asked.

"Yeah, uh-huh," Anthony told him. And it was true. The guy was a book geek, but he never made Anthony feel like a
moron. It was kind of like working with Rae. Except the tutor boy didn't smell like citrus and girl. And he didn't trace
words on Anthony's skin the way Rae had. Not that Anthony wanted him to. But when Rae did it… it was like her
fingertip was sexier than other girls' whole bodies.

"And you're making friends?" Jesperson said, sounding like the answer was really important to him. "The guys on
the team," Anthony answered. "No one else?" Jesperson pressed.

Anthony shrugged. "I've met some people. It hasn't been that long."

Jesperson stood up. "Of course it hasn't. I'm sure in a few more weeks you'll know pretty much everyone around."

"Yeah, uh-huh," Anthony said again. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Was that it? Could he go
now?

"If you need any help beyond what your tutor can give you-or just want to talk-I'm available." Jesperson clapped
Anthony on the back.

"Okay, thanks," Anthony answered, backing toward the door. "See you." He turned and made it through the door,
glad to escape before Jesperson said anything else. Anthony'd used most of his twenty words, and besides, there
was something about Jesperson. He seemed… Anthony shook his head. He seemed a little too interested.

Interested wasn't quite it, but something like that.

Whatever, Anthony thought as he hurried down the hall. He made a right, then stopped, his sneakers squeaking.

Rae was standing by his locker. Crap. He wasn't up for talking to Rae, not when Yana was probably already in the
parking lot, waiting for him. He took a step backward. The locker stop wasn't absolutely necessary. He'd He'd go up
and talk to her. Because she'd already seen him, was already smiling at him. "Hey," he said as he approached her,
her blue eyes pulling on himlike a tractor beam. You'll just make it really fast, he coached himself. You'll do the locker
book exchange, then say you have football practice and that'll be it.

Anthony reached for his lock and started dialing in the combination.

"Um, hey," Rae replied. "I was hoping we could maybe go somewhere, like to Chick Filet or something, because
you-" "I can't," Anthony burst out. "I have football-"

"Because you don't have football practice today," Rae continued, speaking over him.

"Right, I know," he said. He'd screwed up his combination, and he started over, trying to look completely focused
on it while he frantically tried to come up with a reason why he'd just lied so stupidly. He'd gotten Bluebird brain
again. And her grapefruit smell wasn't helping. Nothing was coming to him. All he could think was what if Yana got
bored in the parking lot and came into the school, looking for him. He wasn't ready for another Rae-and-Yana scene.

Definitely not ready for Rae to see that he and Yana were… whatever they were. Even though she should know.

Probably.

"I have football the rest of the week is what I was going to say," Anthony finally said. He opened his locker and half
buried his head inside it. "Which is why today I'm taking Anna to the dentist," heburst out. "It's the only time I can
drive her." He yanked a couple of books out of his backpack, jammed them in his locker, and slammed the door.

"She was riding her bike, and she decided to try and do a front wheelie," he explained, still not meeting Rae's gaze.