reason she was here.
She didn’t respond and each moment of silence increased the pressure in my chest. Finally, she said, “You couldn’t have known this would happen.” Then she closed her eyes and edged slightly away—a rebuttal to further conversation.
Kyle squeezed my hand and pressed a gentle kiss to my temple. “It’s not your fault,” he whispered.
“Yes it is.”
I rested my cheek on his shoulder. His bare skin was warm and smelled faintly of smoke. “So I guess my attempt to save you from the life of a teenage runaway was a colossal failure.” My throat constricted and my voice came out thick. “If I hadn’t gotten you locked up, you might have gotten out.”
A tear leaked from the corner of my eye and Kyle stiffened as it landed on his chest. He let out a deep breath, almost a rough sigh. “I love you. You know that, right?”
“Me too.” It occurred to me that the only times either of us had managed to say those words had been either during or just after mortal peril.
The truck shuddered to a stop.
Fear flooded my chest and sweat soaked the back of my shirt.
Next to me, Serena let out a small, strangled noise.
I had to find a way to get her out of this. To get both her and Kyle out of this.
The doors were thrown open. People struggled to their feet and moved back, hugging the shadows as two Trackers lowered the ramp and two more covered us with guns. As impossible as it seemed, they made the Trackers I’d come across in Hemlock seem tame.
Like cattle, we were forced off the truck and counted before guards in blue uniforms took over and herded us across an expanse of pavement. They carried guns that looked every bit as dangerous as the ones the Trackers were toting and made sure no one made a run for it.
Not that there was any place to run to.
We were in a courtyard behind a massive gate. A thirty-foot-tall fence topped with loops of razor wire stretched out from either side of the entrance and disappeared into the dark. It was easy to imagine that it went on forever.
Serena tilted her head to the side. “It’s electric,” she murmured.
“She’s right.” The girl from the coffee shop—the one with the indigo streak—was standing with Eve. “I can hear the voltage.” She took a step back and bumped into the wolf behind her. She shook her head sharply, the gesture almost violent. “I can’t be here. I can’t be in a camp.”
“It’s okay, Mel. We’ll be okay.” Eve’s tone was reassuring, but her eyes darted nervously to the guards and Trackers.
“It’s not me I’m worried about.” The look Mel shot Eve was pure misery. “What about my nan? Without someone there to look after her and make sure she takes her meds . . .” She swallowed. “What happens to her when I don’t come home?”
Eve didn’t answer.
I turned away.
Across the courtyard, a three-story building stood sentinel against the night. Ivy crawled up its redbrick walls and its roof rose up in a peak sharp enough to puncture the sky. It looked old and out of place compared to the collection of one-story buildings that ranged out behind it.
There was nothing to indicate which camp—and Mel was right, it had to be a camp—we were in.
A man with a clipboard strode forward. “I need you to form two lines. If you’re eighteen or younger, line up on the left. Over eighteen, line up on the right.”
I stood between Kyle and Serena. Only three wolves moved to the right. The man walked down our line, unlocking our cuffs. The weight around my wrists fell away, and I tried to massage some of the feeling back into my skin.
No one uncuffed the wolves in the other line as guards ushered our group past a row of identical white jeeps and to a brick building—also white—near the gate. A small sign on the building’s door read Admissions.
Inside, we were left in a windowless room with white tile walls. Fluorescent lights were embedded in the ceiling. One bulb was on the fritz: it flickered and hummed like those lanterns people hung outside to zap bugs. The room was completely devoid of furniture except for three booths—identical black tables enclosed by floor-to- ceiling glass on all sides—along the far wall. They looked vaguely familiar. When I realized why, I shivered: the glass walls reminded me of Houdini’s Chinese water torture cell.
No one went near the booths. Instinct or mob mentality kept us pressed tightly together, as far away from that side of the room as we could get without actually stepping on one another’s feet.
After a few minutes, two guards with holsters around their waists—Tasers on one side, guns on the other— led a man into the room. The man was young with dark skin and wide-set eyes. He was dressed in white and pushed a large steel cart in front of him.
He cleared his throat. “I need you to form three lines, one in front of each booth.”
No one moved.
The guards began dividing us up, threatening to use the Tasers when people didn’t obey quickly enough.
I ended up being the sixth person in the middle line. Serena was directly in front of me. Kyle was the first person in the line on the far left.
“Walk into the booth opposite you when directed,” said the man in white, “and just follow the instructions. First group in!”
My heart twisted and I had to fight the urge to run forward as Kyle crossed to a booth, pulled open the door, and stepped inside.
After a second’s hesitation, the other two wolves entered their own booths, letting the doors swing shut behind them. There was an audible click once all three were inside—as though a deadbolt had been thrown.
The wolf in the middle cell—a girl with waist-length dreadlocks and an Emily the Strange T-shirt—tried to open her door. Her mouth stretched in a silent shout when she realized she was locked in. She raised her fists and pounded on the glass as Kyle and the boy on her right looked on.
The man in white walked to an intercom to the left of the booths. He pressed a button and leaned toward a small speaker. “The glass is shatter resistant and soundproof. Just calm down and follow the instructions. It will all be over in a minute.” He returned to the steel cart.
Shoulders shaking and fists clenched, the girl turned to the table in her booth. Kyle’s gaze locked on mine for an instant before he followed suit.
My stomach somersaulted as I stared at Kyle’s back. I was convinced that something horrible would happen, but after a few moments, he turned around, something clenched in his fist.
“Next group in,” said the man in white as the locks disengaged. The three wolves exited the booths and walked toward him. They each handed over what looked like a small plastic square and were told to wait at the back of the room.
Three groups later, it was Serena’s turn. She flinched as the door closed behind her but came out unscathed.
“Next!”
I could practically feel Kyle’s eyes on me as I walked forward and stepped into the booth.
I glanced to either side. Mel—the girl from the coffee shop—was in the booth on my right while an unfamiliar boy was in the booth on the left. Unlike the glass door, the walls between the booths were frosted up to chest-level.
An automated voice rang out of a hidden speaker. “Take a slide from the dispenser in the middle of the counter.”
Sure enough, there was a stack of glass slides on the tabletop. I pulled one out and held it between my thumb and forefinger.
“Place the slide on the counter and then press your index finger to the red
