The Nine Lives of Chloe King (23 page)

BOOK: The Nine Lives of Chloe King
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“I didn’t mean to hurt you, but I had to stop you.”

“Didn’t mean to … ?” Alyec demanded, pointing at the blood running down his leg.

“I had to stop you,” Brian reiterated. His brown eyes were wide, begging her to believe him. “If you keep heading down to the water … there are others, at least a dozen or more of… us, waiting for you, in case you do escape. Some with more … conventional weapons.”

“Who the hell is the Tenth Blade?” Chloe demanded. “And what do you have to do with them?”

“Their only purpose is to kill people like us,” Alyec said.

“Not all of you; that’s not true. …”

“Tell that to the Rogue.”

“Only the
dangerous
ones!”

“And what is Chloe? Dangerous?” Alyec growled and leapt at Brian, pushing past Chloe. His claws were fully extended; they were shorter and thicker than Chloe’s. He was aiming for Brian’s neck.

“STOP,” Chloe said, pushing him out of the way and planting a firm hand on Alyec’s shoulder to stop him. But he was angry, raging, out of control.

Without thinking, she took her hand and cuffed him on the side of the head to snap him out of it.

Like a cat cuffs her kittens,
she realized after she did it.

Alyec shook his head, dazed, but stumbled back.

“Is that why you hung out with me?” Chloe demanded. “To keep tabs on me so they could kill me?” She looked Brian in the eye. So much made sense now—and it was a thousand times worse than she’d ever thought.

“No! I mean, I was supposed to keep track of you, learn about you, talk to you. Become … friends.” They held each other’s eyes for a moment; it was obvious he meant something else entirely. He hung his head. “Then I found out the Rogue was after you, and I wanted to stay by you and protect you—when I couldn’t convince them to call him off.”

“Don’t believe him! Stupid monkey,” Alyec said.

“I’m here talking to you, aren’t I?” Brian shouted at him. “Why would I lie
now?”

“I can’t believe it.” Chloe backed away from him. “I can’t believe you’re part of a group that wants me
dead.”

“It’s more complicated than that, Chloe,” Brian said tiredly. “Even Alyec can tell you that.”

“Why did you warn me to stay away from him?” Chloe demanded. “Because you didn’t want me learning the truth?”

“No. Alyec is a known … troublemaker. I didn’t want you drawing attention to yourself, falling in with the wrong crowd.”

“Looks like I fell in with the
right
crowd,” Chloe said disgustedly. “Finally.” She ducked down and put Alyec’s arm around her shoulders to help him walk. “A couple of years of working out in the ’real world’ so you could be a
zoology major?”

Brian flushed with shame. “Chloe, I really liked—I really like you.”

“Whatever,” Chloe said, leading Alyec away.

Epilogue

Alyec lay on
her couch, his injured leg raised. It wasn’t that large a cut, but the shuriken had sliced through tendon, making it impossible for him to walk. Chloe’s own wound on her side had stopped bleeding but continued to ache.

Dazed, exhausted from the fight, and unsure what else to do, Chloe took some taquitos from the freezer and put them in the microwave. She had maybe an hour before her mom came home and serious explanations began if Alyec wasn’t gone.

“This sucks.” Alyec swore, looking at the cut.

Leaning against the stove, Chloe put her hands to her face and finally began to cry.

“Hey, don’t do that,” Alyec said, pushing himself up and hobbling over to her. He put an arm around Chloe. “It’s very confusing, I know. … But don’t worry! Everything will be explained. There’s so much you need to know—about who you are and where you came from. And you will be safe, I promise. There are these people you should meet now; I think you’ll like them. …”

Chloe gave Alyec a small smile. Somehow she knew he didn’t mean any of his friends from school. And that was fine by her.

THE STOLEN

For K. A. Kindya. Ra, Ra, Ra!

Prologue

She was back
at the Golden Gate Bridge.

Paul and Amy were already gone. The highway spanning the bridge was empty of cars. The water below had stopped. Everything was silent, waiting.

Chloe wasn’t surprised when Alexander Smith—the Rogue who’d tried to kill her before—seemed to drop out of the sky, a dagger in each hand. He was saying something but making no sound. She could tell he was going to attack and ducked, but her movements were so very, very slow….

There was a scream as one of his daggers grazed her head.
But that didn’t really happen,
she realized, confused.
That’s not what happened last time. I was supposed to leap at him. …
He was coming at her, two more daggers in his hands, murder in his eyes.

Chloe couldn’t make herself move.

But I won this fight,
she told herself, panicking.
I’ve already been through all this and I won—

The Rogue’s arm shot out, dragging a blade across her face. Chloe leapt back just in time.
Did he scratch me? Am I bleeding?

“Brian!” she called out, knowing her friend was supposed to appear. But wait, wasn’t there some confusion? Had he been helping her or the Rogue?

Brian appeared, standing at an impossible angle on the rail. He looked serious and his arms were crossed. “Who is it?” he asked gravely. “Me or Alyec?”

“Help me!” Chloe screamed, trying to run away from the Rogue.

“You cause a lot of trouble,” the Rogue said with a faint smile.

Then he drove a blade deep into her belly.

As she fell, she saw Alyec run and leap at Brian.

“No!” she screamed as the two boys went tumbling off the bridge.

The Rogue smiled, his face so close that his sour breath enveloped her. He raised the blade again, this time aiming for her neck.

One

“No!”

Chloe woke up covered in sweat and trembling.

“It was a dream,” she said, letting her tense muscles sink back into the bed. She had fought the Rogue a day ago—and she had won, if you could call it that. He had fallen off the bridge when Chloe failed to grab his arm, and now he was the one who was dead. Chloe was okay. Alyec and Brian were both alive. Everything else was just a nightmare.

The room was bathed in a soothing half-light that could have been dawn but somehow
felt
like dusk. She wasn’t home; the crisp richness of the bedding and the velvet fringe of the throw someone had tucked around her were definitely alien to the King household. Where
was
she? Slowly it came back to her.

Alyec had taken her to this place after the fight. His leg was injured by one of Brian’s throwing stars. Brian had claimed that he was trying to stop them from running deeper into Tenth Blade territory, but Chloe still wasn’t sure if that was true. … They had taken a taxi; she remembered looking out the window and seeing that they were on the bridge, the beautiful lights of San Francisco receding behind them. When they finally stopped, she was led through pitch darkness up to a house, where a short blond woman greeted and welcomed them, even though it was the middle of the night. She led them through narrow halls and—

Chloe sat up, remembering more from last night.

Something had passed them in one of the halls that still scared Chloe, even now that she was safely tucked in a luxurious bed.

The hall was dark and empty, and then, seemingly out of nowhere, a girl her own age drifted past them, silent as a black ghost. Her eyes gleamed in the low light, green and slit like a cat’s. From underneath her straight black hair poked two giant ear tips, pointed, black, and covered with fur. She was gone as quickly and silently as she came.

Chloe had gasped and pointed and Alyec rolled his eyes and explained that the cat girl was just Kim. The other woman nodded nonchalantly. But even that simple explanation didn’t make Chloe feel any better. She had no idea where she was or who these people were that Alyec had taken her to.

“I’ll come by soon,” he had promised after they stopped at a door.

“Go
away,
Alyec,” the woman said sweetly, pushing Chloe into the room. For some reason it was that maternal tone, the nice-but-ordering voice, that had set Chloe at ease again. Wherever they were, there were normal rules and people.

She couldn’t see much in the tiny space except for a bed with about a thousand down pillows. She collapsed on it without asking.

“You have a nice little nap,” the woman had said, clucking her tongue and pulling a velvet chenille throw up over Chloe’s shoulders.

As exhausted as she was, Chloe hadn’t been able to fall asleep instantly, and when she had, her dreams had all been nightmares: she was back on the Golden Gate Bridge, fighting for her life against the Rogue, the Order of the Tenth Blade’s most lethal—and psycho—assassin. Sometimes in her half dreams Alyec was there, sitting on the side and watching like he had or fighting beside her. Sometimes Brian was there, helping her like
he
had—or chasing her the way she thought he had. Even though it had all really happened, it
still
didn’t feel real. But it was.

Now that she was awake, Chloe was
still
tired and without answers to the questions that had been plaguing her nightmares:
Why me? What did I ever do to anyone?

Chloe noticed a little side table that had been set up next to her while she slept. It was covered with a large doily and on it was a plate with various cold cuts and cheeses, slices of bread, and little cups of mustard and other condiments. A glass—
crystal?
—of water was placed next to a can of Diet Coke.

Chloe made herself the largest sandwich she could manage between two slices of thick brown pumpernickel, slathering it with mustard. It took only about a minute for her to gobble it down, maybe another to toss back the water and the Diet Coke. She let out a mighty burp (then looked around nervously, but no one was there). Somehow she wasn’t as frightened as she should have been. Her belly was full, she was in a beautiful room, and she was safe. Strangely, she sort of felt happy.

Chloe looked around: the beams and floor planks were ancient wood, dark and polished just enough to keep the dust away, not so much as to be shiny. The room itself was small but cozy: there was an intricate Oriental rug in dark colors in one corner, on top of which sat a lightly worn velvet armchair. Over its back was another chenille throw. An old-fashioned floor lamp with a slightly cracked marble base and brass upright lit the room with a soft orange glow from three fake candle lightbulbs. If Chloe had the money—and the right house—this was exactly how she would decorate it.

She rose and stretched, feeling her joints and muscles snap into place.
Back to my old self, finally.
She pulled her cell phone out of her back pocket and turned it on. Three-quarters battery left. No one had left her a voice mail, not even her mom.
She must have bought that whole “I’m going over to Keira’s” thing,
thought Chloe. She called Amy and was a little surprised when she didn’t pick up—both Amy and Paul had seen the whole Rogue-Alyec-Brian-Chloe mess last night—shouldn’t they be worried?

Amy’s voice mail beeped.

“Hey, it’s Chloe. I’m fine. I’m staying with some …” She paused for a moment, trying to think of the right word. “Uh, distant cousins and friends. Don’t call—I’m going to keep my phone off for a while. Save the battery. I’m safe, and I’ll call you later.”

Chloe then left a message for her mom, who wasn’t home. “Hey, I’m going to be with Keira for a little longer. …”

She heard the sound of old-fashioned high heels clicking down the hallway outside her room, growing louder as they came closer.

“Um, love you. And, uh, I’ll call you later—I’m turning off my phone. Okay, bye.”

Chloe quickly shut off her phone and put it away. Soon a woman appeared at her door, finishing up a conversation half in Russian and half in English on a tiny cell phone dangling with charms. It took Chloe a second to realize that she was the same woman from the night before who had taken her to this room, just in more professional clothes.

“Yes,” she said. “Two dozen. And tell Ernest thanks for the purple pens. The kids love them. Spaceba.” She hung up and gave Chloe a weary smile. “Sometimes I feel more like an office manager than president of this little place. How are you feeling?”

“Uh, fine, thank you …”

It was hard to tell how old the other woman was; her body was Tinkerbell perfect, small and curvy with a tiny waist and amazing calves that were highlighted by what looked like six-inch stiletto heels. She had short, elfin blond hair and black eyes. The skirt and jacket suit she wore were a little flashy for Chloe’s taste but obviously expensive. There was something more about her, though … the way she held her head, the way she stared without blinking, a certain smell that Chloe couldn’t put her finger on.

Chloe knew this woman was just like her. A cat person.

“I’m Olga Chetobar,” she said, extending a hand with long, perfect nails. One of them had a little golden charm dangling from the end. “I’m president of Firebird’s, well, we call it ’human resources’ department. We find and rescue, shall we say,
strays
and bring them home.”

“Home?”

“Sergei will explain—he’s very anxious to meet you.” Olga checked something on her phone again.

“Thanks for the—uh, lunch,” Chloe said, wondering if it would be rude to ask about a shower, new clothes, or getting in contact with her mom.

“Don’t get used to it,” the older woman said with a warm smile. “We all pitch in together around here. You will soon, too.”

“I don’t mean to be rude—it’s great here—but when will I get to go home? I think my mom is going to start to worry.”

Olga held up her hand. “Sergei takes care of this. Your mother will be informed that you were witness to a potentially lethal crime—which you
were
—and are in police custody. Or federal witness protection. Or something. Maybe he already told her? I don’t know the details—his people always do a good job, though. Come with me now.” She looked at her watch, something expensive with gold and diamonds. “He is expecting you.”

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