Probably more than I cared to know.
We are here to stop them.
Blake’s words came back to me, and I sucked in a breath. Stop who? How could the Luxen be the bad guys? My mind raced, caught between wanting to figure out what he meant and not trusting anything he said.
Archer returned with a plate of eggs and bacon in one hand and a little carton of milk in the other. He sat them down in front of me wordlessly, then produced a plastic fork.
I stared at the plate as he sat across from me. A lump formed in my throat as I reached out slowly, my hand hovering over the fork. I suddenly thought of what Blake had said about his stay here—about how everything had been covered in onyx. Had that been true? The fork was obviously harmless, and I had no idea what to believe anymore.
“It’s okay,” Archer said.
My fingers wrapped around the plastic fork, and when nothing hurt, I breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”
He watched me, his expression telling me he had no idea what I was thanking him for, and I kind of wondered, too. I was surprised by his kindness. Or at least I saw this as kindness. He could’ve been like Blake and the other guy and not given a damn about my starving.
I ate my food quickly. The whole thing was awkward on a painful level. He didn’t speak, and he didn’t take his eyes off me once, like he was on alert for shenanigans. I wasn’t sure what he expected me to do with a plastic plate and fork. Once, his gaze seemed drawn to my left cheek, and I wasn’t sure what he was staring at. I hadn’t looked in the mirror when I got ready.
The food tasted like sawdust in my mouth, and my jaw ached from the chewing, but I cleared the plate, figuring I needed the energy.
When I finished, the plate and utensil were left behind on the table. Archer’s hand was on my shoulder again. Our trip back was silent and the hall a bit more crowded. We stopped outside a closed room. Without knocking, he opened the door.
Another medical room.
White walls. Cabinets. Trays with medical instruments. A table with…stirrups.
I backpedaled, shaking my head. My heart pounded crazy fast as my gaze bounced from Dr. Roth to Blake, who was sitting in a plastic chair. The other guy who’d gone with Blake earlier was nowhere to be found.
Archer’s hand tightened, and before I could get completely out the door, he stopped me. “Don’t,” he said softly, loud enough for only me to hear. “No one wants a repeat of yesterday.”
My head jerked toward him, and my eyes locked with his blue ones. “I don’t want to do this.”
He didn’t blink. “You don’t have a choice.”
Tears rushed my eyes as his words sunk in. I glanced at the doctor, then at Blake. The latter looked away, a muscle popping in his jaw. The hopelessness of it all hit me. Up until that moment, I don’t know what I was really thinking. That I still had some say in what was going to happen around me and to me.
Dr. Roth cleared his throat. “How are you feeling today, Katy?”
I wanted to laugh, but my voice came out a croak. “What do you think?”
“It’ll get easier.” He stepped to the side, motioning me toward the table. “Especially once we get this done.”
Pressure clamped down on my chest, and my hands opened and closed at my sides. I’d never had a panic attack before, but I was pretty sure I was seconds away from one. “I don’t want them in the room.” The words came out quick and raspy.
Blake glanced around and then stood, rolling his eyes. “I’ll wait outside.”
I wanted to kick him as he strolled by, but Archer was still there. I turned to him, my eyes feeling like they were bulging out of my head.
“No,” he said, moving to stand in front of the door. He clasped his hands. “I’m not leaving.”
I wanted to cry. There would be no fighting back. The room, like the hallway and cafeteria, had shiny walls. No doubt it was the mixture of onyx and diamond.
The doctor handed me one of those god-awful hospital gowns, then pointed toward a curtain. “You can get changed behind there.”
In a numb haze, I headed behind the curtain. My fingers fumbled over my clothing and then the gown. Stepping out from behind the curtain, my body was hot and cold, legs weak as I walked forward. Everything was too bright, and my arms shook as I hoisted myself onto the padded table. I clutched the little ties on the gown, unable to look up.
“I’m going to take some blood first,” the doctor said.
Everything that happened next I was either hyperaware of or completely detached from. The sharpness of the needle as it slid into my vein, I felt all the way to my toes, then the slight tug of a tube being replaced atop the needle. The doctor was talking to me, but I didn’t really hear him.
When it was all done, and I was in my clothes again, I sat on the table, staring down at the white sneakers he had given me. They were my size—a perfect match. My chest rose and fell in deep, slow breaths.
I was numb.
Dr. Roth explained that blood work would be done. Something about checking out the level of mutation, a workup of my DNA so it could be studied. He told me I wasn’t pregnant, which was something I already knew; I almost laughed at that but felt too sick, really, to do anything other than breathe.
After that was all said and done, Archer stepped forward and led me out of the room. He’d said nothing the entire time. When he placed his hand on my shoulder, I shrugged it off, not wanting to be touched by anyone. He didn’t place his hand on my shoulder again.
Blake was leaning against the wall outside the office, his eyes sliding open when the door shut behind us. “Finally. We’re running late.”