Intuition (22 page)

The hallway is quiet and deserted as the elevator doors open—I must have beaten them here anyway. I stop, looking at the numbers on the doors. In my mind, I hadn't gotten any further than this; I figured I'd get to the lab and watch as the Sekhem dealt with Veronique. I didn't count on being here all by myself. I turn back to the elevator, thinking that they can't be very far behind, when I see my reflection in the brushed metal doors. I look small and young, like someone who's lost in a much bigger world. Except that I don't feel like that person anymore. I feel like someone who needs to start making things happen. To show Janine and the Sekhem that I'm not just some Shewi who needs their help to do everything.

I turn and face the empty hallway again. There are nothing but identical doors on each side, marching toward a window that looks out over the bay. Veronique's lab number means that her room must be down toward the end. As I take a few cautious
steps in that direction, I start to think about what I'm going to say when I get there.
What the hell were you thinking?
seems like a good place to start, but I'm going to have to trust myself this time. I'll figure something out.

Two rooms down from the end of the hallway, the door that matches Veronique's number is open just a crack. It's too small to see through, so I push it with my finger and it inches open a little farther. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest, and I take a deep breath to try to calm down.

“Hello? Veronique?” I call, pushing the door open all the way. I don't see anyone, but the lab is completely trashed. Papers and broken glass litter every surface; two stools have been overturned, and another one is lying on a black countertop. Entire drawers have been pulled out and emptied onto the floor. It feels like the room is still in motion—as if the papers have just finished fluttering to the floor. I jump back, scared that someone might still be here, but a quick glance around tells me the lab is empty. I take a few cautious steps into the room, glass crunching under my feet even though I'm trying to avoid messing anything up. The Sekhem sure worked fast—they must have been in and out before I even got off the bus. I wonder if they found what they were looking for. And if they took Veronique with them.

I peek around the island in the middle of the room and see a pool of reddish-brown blood on the floor. She must have put up a hell of a fight. How did they get her out of here without anyone seeing them?

I hear footsteps pounding down the hallway, and for a split second a jolt of fear races through my body—they must have come back for something. Janine told me to stay out of this.
What are the Sekhem going to do when they find me here? Before I can react, the door is thrust open, and I don't know who is more surprised, me or Griffon.

He takes just a second to recover at the sight of me, standing in the middle of the mess. “What happened?”

“I'm not sure. I think the Sekhem had to take things further than Janine thought; there's a ton of blood on the other side of this counter.”

Griffon grabs my arm and pulls me back toward the open door. For an instant I get a sense that he wants to protect me. It makes me both irritated and grateful. “This wasn't the Sekhem,” he says, his voice rising with alarm. “I'm the first one here—everyone else is coming up behind me.”

I feel a shiver run down my back. “You mean this was someone else? Who? Nobody else knows.”

He takes in the room at a glance. “We don't know who else Veronique told. She's insane—she might have talked about this to almost anyone.” Griffon runs his hand over his newly short hair with a pained expression on his face.

I can sense his anxiety. “What do you mean?”

“If you're right, and Rayne transitioned—”

“I
am
right,” I insist.

Griffon ignores my interruption. “Then this might be a very big deal.” He looks down at my hands. “Did you touch anything?”

I shake my head. “Just the door. I got here just a few seconds before you did.”

That seems to calm him some. “Good. That's good.”

“Shouldn't we call 911 or something?”

“No.” Griffon looks at me like I'm stupid. “We'll handle this
ourselves. The university won't even know that anything was wrong by the time we leave tonight.” He looks back down the empty hallway. “You should go before everyone gets here.”

“I don't want to go. This is as much about me as it is about you.”

Griffon looks surprised. “It's just easier if you stay out of this.”

“But what about Veronique? What if they found what they were looking for?”

“We have people all over—we'll be able to figure out who did this. And to stop what she's created from getting into the wrong hands.” He hesitates. “Look, Cole, it's just better for everyone if you stay invisible for now. Once you're in the Sehkem, there's no turning back. You need this time to transition and develop your skills. That's what I'm trying to give you—more time. Now quit being so stubborn and take it.”

I'm about to protest when I stop. I can see the truth behind his words and how intensely he believes in them. He's trying to do this for me. “Okay. For now. But . . .” I'm about to ask him to call me when I remember where we are, who we are to each other now. “Make sure Janine calls me.”

“I will.” He looks relieved. “Now go.”

I run back down the hall and push the elevator button. The one on the left opens almost immediately and I get in, pushing the button for the ground floor. Before the doors can close, I hear the other elevator ding and a rush of footsteps as people get off. I push myself into the corner as I see the backs of several men rush down the hall. Just before the sliding doors meet, Giselle stops in midstride as if I'd shouted at her and turns to look
directly at me. I catch my breath as the elevator jerks and starts down, my reflection barely recognizable in the metal doors.

“Staying in tonight?” Mom asks as she passes my doorway.

I look up from my laptop. “Yeah. I'm tired.”

She leans against the doorframe. “It's been a tough couple of days, hasn't it?”

I laugh, thinking about how much she doesn't know. How much she'll never know. “I haven't been sleeping much.”

“Well, now that Rayne's on the mend, that should get better. Do you have any lessons tomorrow?”

“Not until eleven,” I say.

“Good, you can sleep in. I'm going to go watch the late news if you want to come sit with me.”

“Maybe I will in a minute,” I say. I turn back to my search as she walks down the hallway. I'm trying to see if Veronique belonged to any clubs or hung out with anyone that might give a hint about who might have beaten us to the lab. For a brilliant young biochemist, she has a surprisingly small Internet footprint. I'm scanning through some entries about her research in college when I hear Mom shout from the living room.

“What?” I say from the doorway.

“Quick!” she says. “Come in here!”

I rush to the living room in time to hear the reporter say “. . . cause of death is unknown at this time.” He's standing in a marshy field lit by spotlights, and I can see airplanes taking off somewhere behind him. The headline scrolling down below reads “Body of Young Scientist Found Near Airport.”

“Authorities say a search of her laboratory has so far turned up nothing, although that is the last place where she was seen earlier this afternoon. Anyone with information about this case is asked to contact the San Francisco police department.” The reporter signs off and the screen flickers to another story.

“That was Veronique!” Mom says. She looks stricken. “They said that they found her body this evening, but they don't say what happened.”

I stare at her, unable to think of anything to say. There was a lot of blood at the lab; I should have seen this coming. I wonder if they got what they needed from her. “I don't believe it.”

Mom puts one hand to her mouth. “Me neither! She was such a nice young woman. They were just here a few months ago—remember, she played piano for us? So talented . . . it's such a waste.”

I nod slowly. I know I should be feeling relief—Veronique's gone and she won't be bothering us again, at least not in this lifetime. But all I feel is numb.

Mom looks up at me. “I wonder if the boyfriend had something to do with this. He was nice enough, but I always felt that he was a little shifty. Most of the time, things like this have to do with people you know.” She shakes her head sadly. “Still, it's such a shame.”

“It is,” I agree, not knowing what else to say. It's much safer to have Mom thinking that this is some sort of domestic-violence case. Not that she would ever guess the truth—that as crazy as she was, Veronique unlocked the secrets of Akhet transition. And that knowledge got her killed.

Janine isn't telling me the whole truth. I can't read her all that well over the phone, but even so, I'm sure there's something she's hiding when she calls this morning about Veronique. She said all the stuff I'd expect her to say—that the Sekhem are on top of it, that I should just sit tight and wait for news, but there's something deeper behind her words. It's been over a week since we've had an empath lesson, and I'm thinking it's time to schedule another one—I'll be able to find out more if I see her face-to-face.

I'm checking my phone again when I see Drew walk in the front door of the studio. I duck my head and pretend I don't see him through the glass of the practice-room door, focusing on the piece in front of me and my fingers on the strings. I glance up again and see him walking back toward the exit, surprising myself by opening my door and calling out to him. “Drew!” The
instant the word is out, I regret it. I don't want to encourage him. But I need to feel connected to other Akhet right now, and he's about the only one left who actually wants to see me.

He spins around and looks at me sheepishly. “I was just leaving you a note.” He nods toward the front desk. Rebecca waves a piece of paper in my direction, her eyes following Drew's every move. I walk over and grab it from her.

“It's an invitation,” he says. “To a party at my new place on Friday. I figured coming here was better than stopping by your house.” He looks right into my eyes. “And you haven't been returning my calls.”

I glance over and see Rebecca hanging on his words. I walk back toward the open door of the practice room and motion for him to follow. No harm in being seen with him here this time. I fold the invitation in my hands. “Sorry about that; it's been kind of crazy lately.”

“How's Rayne?” He seems genuinely concerned.

“Better.” I hesitate. Janine said not to tell anyone about what happened with Veronique. Even though I'm sure Drew had nothing to do with it, I decide to listen to her. “Looks like they figured out what kind of infection it was and how to treat it. I'm going to the hospital as soon as I get out of here. I think they're going to let her go home soon.”

“Good! I'm really glad.” He nods toward the invitation. “Well, Portia Martin's coming back into town for a show this weekend, so I thought I'd have some people over,” he continues. “A little housewarming dinner at my new place. I'd love it if you'd come.”

I glance back at the closed door, but everyone seems to be
minding their own business. “Some people? Like the people who were at the club?”

Drew grins and sits down at the piano bench. “Yes. Mostly Khered. It'll be a good opportunity for you to meet other Akhet. People who might be able to help you in this lifetime.”

I've been thinking about Frank and the different Akhet I met with Drew that night. I know what Griffon and Janine think about them, but they all looked so content and happy. Still, accepting the invitation feels like some kind of betrayal. “I'm not sure I can make it.”

Drew pokes at a few of the piano keys. “Too bad.” He looks up and smiles at me. “But I understand.” He puts his hands on the keyboard and plays a few chords, expertly and without hesitation. This isn't his first time at a piano.

He nods toward the cello. “Have you been playing?”

I shrug. Not like he has any stake in it. “A little. It's a right-handed cello that . . . that they made for me.” It feels wrong to even say Griffon's name in front of Drew.

“Cool.” Drew plays a few riffs. “We should play together sometime.”

I shake my head.

“Not in front of anybody. Just for fun.” Drew's fingers hover over the keys, and then I hear the first few bars of “River Flows in You.”

I take a step toward the piano, my heart pounding at the familiar notes. “Stop.”

Drew lifts his hands off and the sound vibrates through the small room. “Okay,” he says slowly. “Why?”

“Just . . . not that song.”

“You don't like Yiruma?”