Seeing his familiar face didn’t bring the warm fuzzies. He and the other guy were heavily armed.

They ushered Blake and me toward the elevator, and I craned my neck, trying to see around them to get a grasp on my surroundings. There were several doors like mine, and it looked just like the corridor at Mount Weather. A heavy hand landed on the small of my back, startling me.

It was Archer.

He sent me a look I couldn’t decipher, and then I was in the elevator, squeezed between him and Blake. I couldn’t even lift my hand to brush away the damp, cold hair that clung to the back of my neck without knocking into them.

Archer leaned forward, pushing a button I couldn’t see because of his mammoth body. I frowned, realizing I didn’t even know how many floors this place had.

As if he were reading my mind, Blake looked down at me. “We’re underground right now. Most of the base is, with the exception of the two upper levels. You’re on the seventh floor. Floor seven and six are housing for… well, visitors.”

I wondered why he was even telling me this. The layout had to be important information. It was like…like he trusted me with the knowledge, like I was already one of them. I shook the ridiculous notion out of my head. “You mean the prisoners?”

Archer stiffened beside me.

Blake ignored that. “The fifth floor houses Luxen who are being assimilated.”

Since the last of the Luxen arrived when Daemon and his family did, more than eighteen years ago, I couldn’t imagine how they were still assimilating any of them. My educated guess was that these were Luxen who they believed didn’t “fit” with the humans for one reason or another. I shuddered.

And underground? I hated the idea of being underground. It was too much like being dead and buried.

I wiggled my way out from between them, stepping back as I dragged in a deep breath. Blake eyed me curiously, but it was Archer who planted a hand on my shoulder, guiding me forward so I wasn’t behind them, like I was going to ninja-stab them in their backs with my invisible knife.

The elevator came to a stop, and the doors slid open. Immediately I caught the scent of food—fresh bread and cooked meat. My stomach roared to life, grumbling like a troll.

Archer’s brow went up.

Blake laughed.

My cheeks flamed. Good to know my sense of pride and embarrassment was still intact.

“When was the last time you ate?” Archer asked. It was the first time he’d spoken since I’d been with him and Dr. Roth.

I hesitated. “I…I don’t know.”

He frowned, and I looked away as we stepped out into the wide, brightly lit hallway. I honestly had no idea what day it was or how many days I had been out of it. Up until when I smelled food, I hadn’t even been hungry.

“You’re meeting with Dr. Roth,” Blake said, starting toward the left.

The hand on my shoulder tightened, and even though I wanted to shove it off, I became very still. Archer looked like he knew how to break a neck in six seconds flat. Blake’s gaze went from Archer’s hand to the man’s face.

“She’s going to get something to eat first,” Archer said.

Blake protested. “The doctor is waiting. So is—”

“They can wait a couple more minutes so the girl can eat something.”

“Whatever.” Blake lifted his hand in a way that said, It’s your problem, not mine. “I’ll let him know.”

Archer steered me toward the right. Only then did I realize the other military guy had gone with Blake. For a second, everything spun as we started forward. He walked liked Daemon, taking long, quick strides. I struggled to keep up while trying to absorb every detail of where I was. Which wasn’t much. Everything was white and lit by bright track lighting. Identical doors lined both sides of the endless hallway. The low hum of conversation behind closed doors was barely discernible.

The scent of food grew stronger, and then we came upon double glass doors. He opened them with his free hand. I felt like I was being escorted into the principal’s office instead of into the rather normal-looking cafeteria.

Clean square tables were spaced in three rows. Most of the ones up front were occupied. Archer led me to the first vacant table and pushed me down into a seat. Not a big fan of being manhandled, I shot him a glare.

“Stay here,” he said, then spun on his heel.

Where in the hell did he think I would go? I watched him walk toward the front where a short line of people was waiting.

I could still make a run for it and take the risk of not knowing where to go, but my stomach tumbled at the prospect. I knew how many floors were above. I scanned the room, and my heart sank. Little black dots of doom were everywhere, and the cameras weren’t so hidden. Someone was probably watching me right now.

Men and women in lab coats and fatigues milled around, none of them giving me more than a cursory glance as they passed by. I sat uncomfortably straight, wondering how commonplace it was for them to see a kidnapped teenager scared out of her mind.

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

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