into the room, closing the door until only a sliver of light is left, so it doesn’t lock behind him.
“Jax, thank Arras,” I say. “What’s going on?”
“Kincaid is furious. He thinks the breach came from the inside,” Jax tells me, setting my plate down on my vanity.
“And he’s keeping us in lockdown until he figures out who it was,” I guess.
“No,” Jax says, his face sagging. “He’s already decided who it was.”
I bite my hand so I won’t scream. If Jax is walking around with the other Sunrunners, and I’m locked in my room, that must mean I’m the prime suspect. Or Jost and Erik are.
“Dante’s gone,” Jax continues. “And so is your mother.”
“I know,” I murmur.
“Kincaid thinks you had something to do with it.”
“I didn’t.” I tried to stop him, but I don’t tell Jax this. The less he knows, the less likely he is to get in trouble himself.
“I can’t stick around,” Jax tells me, “but I’m working on something.”
“And I’m supposed to wait?” I demand, balling my fingers up so tightly that my fingernails pinch into the soft skin of my palms.
“You don’t have a choice. I’ll get you out of this, but I need you to listen to me. Don’t eat your dinner.”
“I couldn’t eat if I wanted—”
“Don’t even touch it.” Jax stops me. “Throw it out. Hide it. When we come for you, pretend you are asleep.”
They’re coming for me. I can’t quell the rising panic at this thought. Tonight they’re coming for me. “Who is coming? Why?”
“I can’t stay, but you can trust me,” Jax says, pulling open the cracked door and disappearing. It clicks behind him.
I don’t have any other choice.
I stay in bed, the contents of my dinner stashed in a drawer in the vanity. I’m too afraid to move for fear that they’ll come without warning and catch me awake, ruining Jax’s plan. When the lock to my door finally clicks open and feet shuffle across my floor, I squeeze my eyes shut and try to stay still.
“She’s out.” I hear Jax’s voice, which puts me at ease.
“Be sure, I hear she’s dangerous,” another man says.
“I said she’s out. Don’t worry, I’ve got her.” Hands slide under me and lift me up. I’m cradled against Jax’s chest.
“Keep quiet,” he whispers.
The sensation of being carried off is surreal. I can’t open my eyes to see what path he’s taken or where I’m going, but my mind involuntarily guesses each step of the way. The light filtering through my eyelids grows brighter and the air cooler.
“Put her down there.”
“Okay.” Jax squeezes my hand when he lays me back on a metal slab, and I struggle to keep my breathing slow and rhythmic. Where am I? What’s going on?
“You can go,” the other man commands.
“One thing first,” Jax says. A moment later something crashes into the exam table and falls to the floor. My eyes fly open—I’m unable to keep them shut. Jax rushes over and helps me off the table. I have to step over a body when I do it.
“Is he dead?” I ask, staring down at the man.
“I knocked him out,” Jax says. He squats to riffle through the lab coat the man is wearing, pulling a thin plastic card from the man’s pocket.
“What is that?”
“Security clearance,” Jax says. “We don’t have much time.”
I follow him out of the exam room and into one of the corridors of the estate’s lower level. It looks like the hallway that leads to the cells, but I’ve never been here before. Nondescript steel doors line the corridor.
“These are the alteration labs,” Jax explains. We turn left and immediately meet with a set of security doors. Jax holds the security card to the scanner and the doors glide open to allow us entrance.
“Where are we going?” I ask, checking over my shoulder.
Jax doesn’t answer. Instead he pushes open a white door. Privacy screens partially obstruct several hospital beds, and on the near wall, lit boxes display black-and-white images. I step closer to examine them.
“So this is where he makes his toys,” I say, remembering Kincaid’s strange play and the actors adjusted to perfection for our entertainment.
“Not only his toys,” Jax says. He flips a switch on the wall and a light buzzes on behind a bank of mirrors. Only then do I see the images hanging across them. The light casts shadows across the film and a variety of shapes appear before me.
I wander closer and peer at the sheets. “Is this…?” I let my voice trail into a question.
“A brain,” he confirms.
“And the others?”
“Chest. Hands.” He rattles through a list, pointing to each picture. Some of them are obvious, such as the spindly bones of a hand and foot, but others require concentration to see clearly.
“He uses these to perform the alterations?”
“Tailors use them,” he corrects me.
Tailors, like Dante or myself or Erik.
“X-rays give us a basic pattern to work from. They guide the measurement process,” Jax explains.
“What do you need measurements for?” I ask, my alarm building to a frantic pulse.
“Remember the actress who wanted her face back after the play?” he asks.
I nod.
“A Tailor uses measurements to change someone’s features. It’s not always necessary, but it speeds the work along,” Jax says.
“Why are you showing me this now?” I demand. Being in this room gives me the creeps, and it further reinforces the idea that the Guild is using Tailors in their efforts to map and alter. I had been close to going under the Tailor’s instruments in Arras. I don’t like being so close to them here.
“You didn’t look closely enough,” Jax prompts.
I stare closer but it’s still a mass of murky white and spindly bones. Jax’s long finger trails to the bottom of the X-ray I’m studying and I follow it. There’s a mass of meaningless numbers and codes. Measurements of some sort, I assume, but it’s what’s underneath the gibberish that stands out:
SUBJECT: LEWYS, ADELICE
“This is me?” I ask aloud. I’m not really speaking to him, only trying to wrap my head around what I’m seeing.
“You aren’t the only one,” he murmurs. “You deserve to know what Kincaid had in store for you.”
I scan the next image. Valery. Erik. And the next. Jost.
“How did they get these?” I ask loudly. Jax shushes me.
“They don’t have surveillance in here, do they?”
“Would you keep records of your misdeeds on tape?” he asks. “But it’s still not a good idea to yell.”
Good point.
“I don’t understand where they came from,” I repeat, trying to fit the pieces together. “I never agreed to be mapped.”
“Do you think Kincaid’s the kind to ask? This isn’t the first time Kincaid ordered us to drug you.”
“And you did it? Before now?” My fingers jab at him.
“Dante wanted to see what Kincaid was up to.” Jax spreads his hands apologetically and backs a few steps away from me.
Of course Dante would risk me to learn more about Kincaid. It doesn’t even hurt anymore to realize that, not after his attitude about abandoning my mother. But how had I missed it? The dreamless nights, the world fading
