Chapter 131

Mira

If my body tried to pump any more adrenaline through my veins I probably would have passed out on the floor.

I tried to hide the fact that I was walking closer to one wall, pressing my hand against it when Malachi wouldn’t see that I need to support myself. Somehow I had convinced myself that since Julian was upstairs, unharmed and seemingly healthy, no one else was being held captive and had taken his place.

But of course they had. Malachi wouldn’t stop until he found whatever fountain of youth he was searching for. I glared daggers into the back of his head, totally checked out and not listening to anything he was saying.

I vowed then and there to make this part of my mission, a top priority. First I would get Julian out. Then I would get these children out. And then I would destroy Malachi and all that he stood for.

“Any questions?”

I managed to hoist myself back up and at attention by the time he turned at the end of the hallway. He looked so pleased with himself, like he was showing me his garage of luxury automobiles or prized race-horses.

I nodded, deep in scientific contemplation. “Do they answer to their numbers?”

He scrunched his mouth in thought. “Sometimes, though mostly I don’t need them to respond,” he admitted. “We recently stopped using their names, or changed them slightly, just so they don’t get too attached to one another. Numbers have worked so far.”

“And are they all Fated Mates?” I was breathing deeply to support my voice, my body still feeling shaky and off-kilter. “How do you test for that?”

“We find them through hospital records,” Malachi said, intrigued by my line of questioning. “And then we compare family history and overlapping bloodlines— I think that might have something do with it— and see where we end up. Some Fated Mates are born on the same day, some are born years apart.”

“There is still a lot you don’t know,” I said, gazing into the blurry distance down the hallway.

“Precisely.”

I made my way back down the hall, pausing to look into each room that contained a child. No one seemed to be in peril or in pain, and one was even relaxed and reading a book on a bed that looked similar to the one I’d slept in.

Each room had a thin window at the top, just above ground-level. It was big enough to let in the light and greenery outside without allowing even a young adult to climb through. They had art supplies or a deck of cards, each child given something to occupy their minds. And thinking back to the breakfast buffet, I put together that the food must be coming down to them.

So at least they were eating well, if that story could believed.

But something about their faces, the odd grey light of their eyes, made me think this was not a natural state of well-behaved children.

“They look…content,” I said almost to myself. There was a touch of astonishment in my voice that I hoped he didn’t hear. “That is— I am not seeing any major side effects from whatever testing they have been through so far.”

“Yes,” Malachi began, looking at me sideways, “this group is relatively new, but so far we’ve been pleased with preliminary results.”

“Only five,” I said pointedly. “Shouldn’t there be an even number?”

“Ah, yes, well,” Malachi looked at a room that was empty and dark. “Unfortunately not all Mates are meant for one another, and it can really mess with the data.”

“So what happens to them?”

“The weaker one is removed from the program,” Malachi said it like it was a little league baseball team. “We make sure to compensate them for their time, and offer our services if any side effects appear down the road. There are waivers.”

“One must be thorough,” I said, fighting against the bile rising in my throat. I had to focus on what I could control. “And what about their activities— are these chosen by you?”

“Our brain scans can detect interest, right-brain vs. left-brain, that sort of thing,” Malachi said, again the proud owner of some shiny toy. “If they don’t feel like talking to us, we have other ways of choosing small gifts for them. It’s good to keep the brain active and evolving, we are monitoring that as well.”

“I’d like to interview them, if I can,” I said perhaps a little too quickly. “It could help me determine what sort to herbs they might respond to. It seems that each is going through something different, and the herbal combination can be that specific to each individual.”

Malachi took in my request in the same way, looking fascinated like I had just learned to speak after years of being mute.

“I’ll see what their schedule will allow,” he said, as if he had to put them all in a minivan to get them to a piano lesson. “We try to limit their outside exposure, as I’m sure you can understand, just so they don’t feel overwhelmed. Strangers, however well-intentioned, can be unnerving to a vulnerable child.”

“And it might affect the data,” I said, daring to stare hard into his eyes in an amicable challenge.

“Precisely,” he said with a nod. “But I can definitely give you access to their charts and backgrounds, if that will help as a starting off point. You’ll have full access to the supply room in the lab as well, and give me a list of anything else you may need.”

“Thank you,” I said, feeling real gratitude even for this man I did not trust. I thought of all the good medical research that could be done with his resources, if it was put in the right places. My one saving grace was that at least I was taking a hold of some of it, and maybe with time I could send more of it out to those who really needed it.

I had never thought I would become a modern day Robin Hood with a medical degree, but one can never predict the future.

“One thing,” I said as he walked toward the door leading out of the hallway and back upstairs.

“Yes, Doctor?”

“I’ll need to get outdoors more, to collect specimen,” I said, drumming up all the confidence I could. “I saw some useful things out there today, but I imagine so much more is beyond the fence. I can smell water not far off, which will provide me with some useful medical plants.”

Malachi stopped and turned his head to speak to me over his shoulder.

“With an escort, for your safety, that can be arranged,” he told me.

I followed him up the stairs, feeling that at least one part of this experience was positive. If I could get beyond the fence, I had a chance to get a message out.

I turn away from Malachi in the hallway.

“I’m going to clean myself up, then I’ll check on those patient charts.”

“Sure, we’ll touch base later,” he told me, gesturing his approval that I go towards my room. I took a few steps away, then he stopped me. “Oh, Mira! I almost forgot to give you this.”

It was an envelope, thickened with its contents.

“What’s this?”

“Just something to get you started.”

His footsteps echoed down the hall as he walked away from me, and I opened the envelope.

It was full of cash.