Daughter of Nothing Page 13

  Sensei!

  She didn’t know how much time she’d lost, but she didn’t think she’d be able to meet Sensei’s time. Still, he’d make her pay for every second she was late. She staggered toward the running path. “Thanks for helping, Elias. Your timing couldn’t have been better.”

  He followed after her. “Do you want me to come with you?”

  She stopped and offered him the best smile she could muster. “I would hate for you to suffer Vaughan’s fate.”

  Elias’s eyes widened, as if just realizing he was alone with two girls. “I’ll give you a few minutes head start so we don’t return at the same time.”

  “Are you coming, Belle?” Jacey called with false cheer.

  The pale girl shook her head as she picked her way back to the path. She stopped near Elias. He stood at least a foot taller than her, though her imperious bearing evened the difference somewhat. “You two make a fine couple,” she said. “You’re both good-looking. And you both are very skilled at hurting Vaughan.” With that, she marched down the path in the other direction.

  Jacey ran.

  Her muscles objected at first, and she struggled to maintain even a slow jog due to the pain in her back and legs. But a few minutes of effort and the raging fury in her heart warmed her up.

  Belle had laid the trap as expertly as a shaddle spider. It took Jacey a few minutes to figure out how she’d done it. Belle had gotten to Sensei’s dojo first, had told him she wanted to make up with Jacey. All she needed was some alone time. Like a run.

  “Clever girl,” Jacey said. It had been easy for Belle to find willing accomplices from Vaughan’s Nine. They worshipped him, after all. That’s why they’d cut Elias out.

  But why had Belle gone to so much trouble? Jacey had known Belle all her life and had never seen so much emotion from her. Belle’s words came back to Jacey. “This is half of what you deserve for what you did to Vaughan.”

  The answer hit Jacey like a hurricane gale, fanning the flames of Jacey’s rage even higher. Belle’s attack wasn’t because Jacey had disgraced herself, and by association, all of the girls.

  Belle was in love with Vaughan.

  That Belle held any affection for anyone or anything struck Jacey as ridiculous. She would’ve laughed if she hadn’t been so angry.

  She poured her rage into her run, let it push her faster and faster. By the time she broke from the path and into the quad, the anger had strengthened to white-hot intensity. But it had also compressed, as if all the power of the sun had been squeezed into a point no bigger than the tip of a thornskipple barb.

  Sensei waited for her with a stopwatch. “Excellent.”

  Jacey coasted to a halt and bent double, pulling in huge breaths. “How late am I?”

  “Late? You beat my mark by fifteen seconds.”

  Jacey let herself fall onto her back, not caring about the bruises and cuts.

  “Get up. It’s not nap time.”

  Jacey moaned and covered her face with her hands. “Haven’t you noticed my legs? They’re all bloody.”

  “Thornskipple, eh?”

  “Wielded by vigilantes who think you and Dr. Carlhagen have been lax with my discipline.”

  Sensei extended his hand to help her stand. “So that’s what was going on at Jacques Point.”

  Jacey’s hand went to the radio on her waistband. He’d been monitoring her progress.

  “Then you know I wasn’t alone there.”

  “Yes, Elias showed up. Is he the vigilante?”

  She wondered why Sensei didn’t ask about Belle and the two boys, but then realized that they hadn’t had radios with them. But Elias had.

  “No. He saved me from the worst of it. Are you going to report me and him to Dr. Carlhagen?”

  “No,” Sensei said, “I didn’t catch you together. Do you intend to register an accusation against anyone in particular?”

  Jacey pictured Belle’s face, the cruel smile, the vicious anger as she whipped the thornskipple branch through the air. Belle would deny the charges, as would Kirk and Horace.

  Jacey decided she needed more time to think it through. If Dr. Carlhagen believed Jacey’s accusation, Belle would be punished. But after that, the girl would have even more reason to exact revenge.

  Jacey shuddered. And Belle might have another shaddle spider hidden away somewhere just in case she decided Jacey needed another round of punishment.

  “Not at this time.”

  Sensei guided her to the squat rack and adjusted the height of the hooks to just below the level of her shoulders. He clanked a barbell onto the hooks.

  Something occurred to her then. “Dr. Carlhagen doesn’t know you can track the radios, does he?”

  The martial arts master didn’t answer except to rack twenty-kilo plates onto both ends of the barbell. “Ten squats.”

  Jacey ducked under the barbell and positioned it on her shoulders. She straightened, lifting the weight from the hooks. “Why did you turn me and Vaughan in?”

  “I had no choice. A student came to inform on you.”

  Jacey knew instantly who had done it. The one person who always policed Jacey’s conversations with Vaughan.

  Belle.

  17

  Your Virgin Blood

  By the time Jacey arrived at the hacienda, the sun had nearly set behind the mountains to the west, leaving the school in shadow. The hacienda stood higher on the slope, so a few beams warmed her back, casting her shadow onto the hacienda’s mahogany doors. They swung open at her approach. Mr. Justin greeted her with a bow and a smile, crow’s feet crinkling up to his temples.

  “This way, Miss Jacey,” he said and led her down a corridor to a large bedroom.

  “Your gown,” he said and pointed toward a closet. The only garment in it was her white gown on a hanger.

  “You’ll find other items here.” He patted the top of a mahogany bureau with a gilded oval mirror over it.

  The butler bowed and took his leave, instructing her to go to the pool area when she was ready.

  The large and airy room was half the size of Girls’ Hall, but instead of bunk beds lining the walls, a huge mahogany-framed bed dominated the room. Tall, carved posts at each corner held a canopy above. It seemed ridiculous to have a roof over a bed that was inside.

  Jacey glanced at the dress, but felt little enthusiasm for it. She went to the bureau to see the other items Mr. Justin had been referring to. She pulled open the top drawer.

  She didn’t know what she was looking at until she removed the white lace garments. They had tiny, pink flowers on them. The first piece was obviously a brassiere, but so different from the plain black ones the girls were issued. Beneath it lay matching panties. They were beautiful and soft, as if they were made from air.

  She stripped off her uniform and slipped into the dainty underthings. As she turned to get the gown, she caught her reflection and froze. She turned this way and that to study herself. The thornskipple wounds tracked across the front and back of her legs, each puncture a raised welt, like a particularly bad insect bite.

  They itched and burned. She twisted to see the scrapes and bruises on her back.

  Sucking air through her teeth, she grabbed the dress and stepped into it. The fabric stung as it contacted her wounds. Zipping it all the way required painful contortions, especially following Sensei’s workout. But Jacey didn’t want Dr. Carlhagen helping her with it.

  She found a pair of cream-colored ballet flats on the floor of the closet and slipped them on.

  She pulled the rubber band from her ponytail and let her hair fall around her shoulders. For reasons that Jacey couldn’t understand, and which seemed silly, her fancy underwear made her feel especially pretty. She also felt vaguely guilty walking around in them, as if she was keeping some scandalous secret.

  The thought trailed off as she realized Dr. Carlhagen knew this particular secret. He’d selected the items for her. And since there hadn’t been any resupply lockdowns since Birthday, he�
��d had them ready for her all along.

  Jacey rubbed her elbows as goosebumps rose on her skin. She went out to the pool, stopping as she noticed a man standing next to it holding a glass.

  The man turned. It was Humphrey.

  She was thankful he hadn’t seen her as she walked in, or he would have noticed how surprised she was. He was truly dashing in the suit, very much how she imagined Dr. Carlhagen might have looked when he was young.

  She cleared her throat and stepped forward. Humphrey turned and tilted his head curiously. His eyes narrowed. “Jacey?”

  She smiled and lifted an eyebrow, enjoying his astonishment. But definitely not enjoying the flash of awe in his eyes. Certainly not. He seemed to drink her in, and she had to fight off a silly urge to twirl and show off the dress.

  Careful, she warned herself. Humphrey was not her friend. She had to assume that everything he did, every reaction he showed, was a calculated move to put her off-guard.

  She decided to go on offense. “What’s that in your hair?”

  His hand went to his close-cropped hair, which glistened as if wet. He scowled. “Something Mr. Justin gave me. It’s called pomade.”

  Jacey made a show of looking at it, considering it. “Turn around.”

  He did, but he kept turning his head to face her.

  “Turn around, I said.”

  He looked away.

  She made a few humming noises. “I guess I like it.”

  He flashed a dark look at her, obviously irritated. Humphrey didn’t accept other people’s opinions. She enjoyed how the compliment put him off-balance.

  He lifted his water glass and took a long drink to cover his disconcertion. She was preparing another assault when Dr. Carlhagen came in, his cane clicking on the tile.

  “Welcome, welcome,” he said, smiling broadly. “Please, this way to dinner. Mr. Justin has prepared a delightful meal.”

  He ushered them into the dining room. It held a very long, dark wooden table, big enough for twelve but with place settings for three at one end. The walls were white, and a rattan fan hung from the peak of the cathedral ceiling. A wide window let in a welcome breeze redolent with bougainvillea blossoms.

  “Jacqueline, you sit to my left,” he said. “Humphrey to my right. You’ve both had etiquette, so I expect perfection.”

  “Jacqueline?” Jacey asked.

  Dr. Carlhagen put a hand to his head and laughed. “I’m sorry. You remind me of someone I used to know. Your names both begin with J, so . . .”

  Humphrey swept around the table and pulled the chair out for Jacey. As she sat, fire erupted along the backs of her legs from the thornskipple wounds. She clenched her jaw tight.

  “You’re injured,” Humphrey said, still behind her. He brushed a thumb across the back of her right shoulder, where a bruise peeped from beneath the strap of her dress.

  “I fell during a trail run this afternoon.”

  “Oh.”

  Humphrey and Dr. Carlhagen took their seats. Mr. Justin came in with a bottle and poured red liquid into tall, narrow-stemmed crystal glasses. Jacey had never seen anything like them, couldn’t help admiring their elegance.

  “It’s like a ballerina in fifth position,” she said, tracing a finger down the stem to the wide base.

  Dr. Carlhagen laughed, a high burbling sound. “Indeed it is,” he said. “I never noticed that.”

  Jacey took a sip of the dark liquid and made a face as it burned the back of her throat. She had expected fruit punch, but this was not sweet. It left a strange bite on the back of her tongue. “What is this?”

  “Wine,” Dr. Carlhagen said. “It’s a Cabernet Sauvignon. From Chile unfortunately, but I’m not about to tap into my French reserves for mere novices.”

  At the word novices, Jacey became suddenly alert, realizing she had been lured into a dangerous ease by Dr. Carlhagen’s charm. She turned the word over in her mind and decided he was reminding them of their place.

  Dr. Carlhagen turned his attention to Humphrey. “You wash up admirably. Quite dapper. Let me see your fingernails.”

  Humphrey hesitated, then held out his hands for Dr. Carlhagen to inspect.

  The doctor frowned. “Still biting them, I see. Next time you visit, I expect to see them growing back.”

  “Yes, sir.” Humphrey’s face flushed with mortification.

  Jacey felt a little pleasure at it. But still, she had nothing to gain by openly delighting in his discomfort.

  Mr. Justin bustled in, breaking the strange moment. He delivered a plate of salad adorned with cherry tomatoes, mango, and a light dressing.

  Jacey picked at it, found it delicious, but was somewhat disappointed. It was the same fare she’d eaten her whole life at the Scion School. In fact, she’d made this salad many times when she was a Snake.

  She finished her salad and took another sip of the wine, surprised to discover the flavor more interesting following the salad.

  “Go slow, my dear,” Dr. Carlhagen said. “A little wine will go a long way in your virgin blood.”

  Jacey nearly choked on the wine. She quickly took a sip of water, conscious of Humphrey’s eyes on her.

  Dr. Carlhagen sat up a bit straighter and patted his pocket. “That reminds me. Your accouterment is not yet complete.”

  Jacey couldn’t imagine what more she could wear—unless he had a hat in his pocket.

  He pulled out a long, thin box, hinged on one side. He smiled to himself as he opened it and turned it to face her.

  Nestled on a cushion of black velvet lay a sparkling diamond necklace with a sapphire pendant.

  Her hand went to her chest. “Oh my.”

  She’d read about jewelry, had seen pictures. But the way the gems sparkled . . .

  “Please understand, this isn’t yours to keep, my dear,” he said. “Not yet, anyway.” He threw a look at Humphrey.

  Jacey tried to figure out what that glance meant, but her thoughts were interrupted as Dr. Carlhagen’s chair chuttered on the tile floor as he stood.

  “No, no, stay seated,” he said. He walked behind her, using the back of her chair for support.

  He draped the necklace around her throat. The pendant dropped just above the rise of her chest. He fumbled behind her for a moment, his gnarled hands stroking her hair away from the back of her neck.

  Jacey sat still, staring at Humphrey’s black tie, horrified at the heat in her cheeks. She flicked a glance up to Humphrey’s eyes, expecting to see his mocking smirk.

  His eyes bore into hers.

  She lowered her stare, watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. He too was trying to figure out what was going on.

  To mask his confusion, Humphrey grabbed his wine glass and threw back a long swallow, draining whatever remained. He grimaced, lips thinning as he swallowed it, then set his glass down too hard.

  Jacey filed the display away. That was the second time he had used drinking to mask emotions.

  Dr. Carlhagen finished securing the necklace and returned to his chair, face beaming.

  Jacey touched the necklace, suddenly aware of how much skin showed. A growing uneasiness threatened to kill her appetite. She didn’t understand Dr. Carlhagen’s behavior. He seemed too jovial. He knew she’d been found alone with Vaughan, and he knew she’d demanded the examination in the medial ward. But he pretended as if none of that had happened.

  Mr. Justin came in with bowls of soup. It was creamy and tasted slightly of citrus. Jacey had enjoyed the same dish many times before. She forced down half of it, taking pains to appear casual.

  She took another, longer sip of the wine, noticing that the glass was full again. Mr. Justin must have replenished it when he delivered the soup. She couldn’t remember how much she’d had. Already she was feeling a strange warmth in her head. She resolved to slow down.

  Humphrey focused on his soup and kept his eyes down.

  Dr. Carlhagen didn’t eat any. He leaned back in his chair as his eyes took on a faraway look.
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br />   “I remember when I was your age,” he said, looking at Humphrey. He laughed sadly. “Oh, the agony of it! So many emotions, so many ambitions, so many hormones.” He winked at Humphrey, who pretended not to notice.

  Dr. Carlhagen leaned forward, put his forearms on the table, and toyed with his spoon. “When I was young, well before the worst of the catastrophes, there was a popular type of story. They made movies out it, all following the same pattern. A young person would wish to be a grown-up so that they would be free to make their own choices and get out from under the control of their parents. Then lightning would strike, or they’d buy a magic potion, and poof!” His hand shot up, and the spoon waved in the air like a magic wand. “The young person and an older person would wake up the next morning having switched bodies.”

  He put the spoon down and chuckled. “A comedy. A sad, sad comedy.”

  He left a pause there, and Jacey obliged by filling it. “A sad comedy . . . ?”

  “Do you know why it’s sad?” Dr. Carlhagen asked. “Because the interesting part of the story is not about the young person in an older person’s body. The interesting part is about the older person in the young person’s body. Wish fulfillment, I suppose. The ability to relive one’s life, while retaining all one’s hard-earned wisdom.”

  He was quiet for a moment, this time clearly not wanting a question. He sighed and threw up his hands and laughed. “But look, I have a beautiful house, beautiful students,” he nodded to Jacey, “and a chance to mold the future leadership of the world.”

  He pushed the soup away. “I don’t like this soup. Where’s Mr. Justin?” He clapped his hands, and the butler appeared, carrying the entrée.

  It was steak, more standard fare from the school kitchens. Jacey ate a few bites and found her wine glass full again.

  Humphrey had more color in his cheeks than usual. But it was clearly the wine, for his eyes and jaw had softened. His habitual scowl had loosened into an expression of resignation, as if he’d finally come to terms with the fact he would have to sit through the entire dinner with her seated across from him.