“She's genetically altered,” Ryan had said.
Up close, her rich brown hair was glossier than I'd realized, her hazel eyes sparked with green, and her lips glistened with the perfect amount of gloss. Her skin was flawless. She wore a red dress suit, perfectly tailored to fit her perfect curves.
I wanted to hate her, but she looked too much like an angel.
Ryan had told me she was emotionless, born to kill anyone and anything when ordered. If I'd have met her on the streets, I never would have guessed. I would have thought she was a model or a businesswoman. Maybe that was why she was so good at her job. Who would expect her to render a death blow?
She probably walked up to her targets, smiled sweetly, and then killed them before they realized what was going on.
“Thank you, Miss Snow,” Le'Ace said in that formal voice of hers. She had a crisp accent I couldn't quite place. Russian, maybe. “I can take it from here.”
Mia strode out of the room.
I moved toward one of the empty desks, but Le'Ace stopped me. “Not yet, Phoenix. First, I have a test for you.”
Frowning, I froze in place. The new teacher was picking on me already, it seemed.
Kitten tried to move around me.
“Nope. You too, Kitten. Turn around and face the wall,” Le'Ace said, showing no mercy.
Several seconds passed, and we did nothing. Just remained in place. What kind of test was she going to give us that we needed to turn around and face the wall? Did she plan to whip us to see how much we could tolerate? Strike us from behind? Or was turning around the actual test? Maybe we were supposed to know that to turn our back to her was to give her power over us.
Damn, but this was confusing. I envisioned myself making the wrong choice and getting myself kicked out today.
“Turn. Around,” Le'Ace commanded sharply. Obviously she was not used to being disobeyed.
Apprehension and a little resentment slithered through me, to be treated like a child again. My jaw popped as I finally pivoted on my heel. Now was not the time to rebel. Kitten quickly followed suit.
“Good,” Le'Ace said. She walked to us, her red heels clicking against the tile. “You're going to tell me everything you remember about the room and its occupants. Every detail. Phoenix, you're first. Tell me about the girls.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. So, turning around hadn't been the test. I only had to—ah, crap. Did I even remember a single detail about the girls? I'd been so nervous, I hadn't really looked at them. “I don't remember.”
“You must remember something.” My back was to her, but I could feel the condemnation radiating from her. “Concentrate,” she barked, sounding like a military general. “Think.”
I closed my eyes and blanked my mind. Concentrating as she'd commanded, I replayed my entry, trying to soak in every detail. I saw…nothing.
“You will not have this long in the field,” Le'Ace said. “If this were a mission, you'd be dead by now.”
Several girls snickered. My cheeks heated for the second time.
“Tell me what you see,” she ordered.
Think. You have to remember something. “There are eight girls sitting at the desks, and they're wearing white clothes. Just like me.” How was that for stating the obvious and trying to buy myself some time? “Two are black.” Yes! I thought with satisfaction. That was right, I knew it was.
Suddenly a picture of them formed in my mind, details I thought I'd overlooked as clear as if I was actually looking at them. “One of the girls is Asian. One, the one with white hair, has a tattoo on her face.” I was so proud of myself, I wanted to clap.
“And what is the tattoo?” came the unimpressed response.
My shoulders tensed as I focused on the girl in my mind. I mentally brushed away the white strands of hair shielding her cheek, revealing more and more of her face…the marking…“It's blue.” And it had sweeping…no. Wrong. What was that? “The edges are jagged but…I can't see it clearly,” I admitted.
“Yes, you can. Think harder.” Le'Ace patted me on the back and it was a surprisingly rough thump, thump. More strength than I would have deemed such a beauty capable of displaying.
My hands clenched at my sides, and I squeezed my eyelids as tight as I could. I pictured the white-haired girl again. Her desk was in the third row. Her hair was long and straight and—oh! She had blue streaks in her hair. Streaks that matched the color of the tattoo. I told Le'Ace.
“That's right,” she said, “but that's not what I wanted to know.”
Obviously the woman was a task master. Concentrate! Tattoo. Blue. Pointed ends. Three pointed ends, to be exact. My eyes blinked open as the answer slammed into me. “It's a trident,” I said, confident.
“Good. Slow, but good.” Le'Ace patted my back again, and this blow almost hammered me to the floor. She must not know her own strength. Or maybe she did and just didn't care. “Remember to study a room and its occupants every time you walk into someplace new.
Her approval warmed me, and I found myself grinning.
“Kitten,” she said, “it's your turn. Tell me about the room itself.”
I twisted so that I could see the girls I'd just spoken about. They were exactly as I'd pictured them, even though I'd only had a few glances. Pride filled me. In the past, I'd studied my surroundings to make sure there were no cops present so I could fly. This time, I'd done it for a good reason.
My teachers used to tell me I'd killed so many brain cells by doing Onadyn that I'd never be sharp, never be considered intelligent. Those comments had hurt, still hurt, actually, when I allowed myself to think of them. I liked to think they'd told me those things to make me stop doing drugs, not because they thought I was stupid.
“The walls are light brown,” Kitten began.
When she said no more, Le'Ace said, “Is that the only color?”
There was a long pause. I crossed my fingers behind my back. You can do it, Kitten.
“Yes?” Kitten said, though the word emerged as a question.
“Are you sure?”
“No. Yes. Yes, I'm sure.”
“Good. But do not let someone's question waver you and do not give an answer unless you are sure. Now, what else do you remember? You've had plenty of time to think about it.”
“There's a holoscreen above the center platform and the floor is made from silver tiles.”
“You can see the floor now,” Le'Ace said dryly. “That doesn't count. What about the desks? The chairs? How many are there?”