Uncontrollable powers. Emotion based.

I remembered Tori sobbing that she couldn't help it, that when she got mad, things just happened. Like Liz. Like Derek. Like Rae. Like me?

I skimmed over the next page. It detailed how they'd handled these "unsuccessful" subjects-put them into a group home, tried to medicate their powers and convince them they were mentally ill. When that failed...

The powers of supernaturals increase through p.u.b.erty, meaning the powers of these failed subjects will continue to grow. It can be reasonably hypothesized that their powers will become more volatile and uncontrollable, threatening the lives of the subjects; the lives of innocents around them; and, perhaps most important, posing an immense exposure risk to the entire supernatural world.We undertook this experiment in hopes of bettering the lives of all supernaturals. We cannot, through our actions, endanger that same world. As responsible scientists, we must accept responsibility for our failures and deal with them decisively to minimize the damage. While the decision was not unanimous, it was agreed that if the predetermined rehabilitation process fails, the subject must, with deep regret, be terminated quickly and humanely.

At the bottom was a list of names. Beside each was their current status.

Peter Ricci-rehabilitatedMila Andrews-rehabilitatedAmber Long-terminatedBrady Hirsch-terminatedElizabeth Delany-terminatedRach.e.l.le Rogers-rehabilitation progressingVictoria Enright-rehabilitation progressing And finally, at the bottom, two names.

Derek Souza-???Chloe Saunders-???

I don't know how long I stared at that list-and those question marks-before something hit my skull. I spun as a stapler bounced onto the carpet.

"Cafe mocha," said Dr. Davidoff, right outside the door. "Decaf, nonfat."

As I logged off, my gaze flipped between the reading room door and the kneehole under the desk. The kneehole was closer, but then I'd be trapped. A spurt of courage sent me lunging for the door. I made it-to the door, not through it into the reading room-as the hall door clicked open. I wheeled and pressed myself against the wall, beside a tall bookcase. I was out of sight but just barely. the door, not through it into the reading room-as the hall door clicked open. I wheeled and pressed myself against the wall, beside a tall bookcase. I was out of sight but just barely.

I reached for the reading room doork.n.o.b. If I opened it wide enough to get through, though, he'd notice.

Go to the desk, I pleaded. I pleaded. Check your e-mail. Check your voice messages. Just please, please, please, don't check on me. Check your e-mail. Check your voice messages. Just please, please, please, don't check on me.

His footsteps headed straight for me. I plastered myself to the wall and held my breath. His arm appeared. Then his knee. Then- He stopped. The arm and knee turned toward the desk. He bent and picked up the stapler.

Oh, G.o.d. He knew. I had to come clean. Make up a story and turn myself in before I was caught. I stepped forward. A chattering broke the silence. My teeth? No, the pen holder on his desk was shaking, pens and pencils rattling.

Dr. Davidoff stared at it, his head tilting as if to say, Am I doing that? Am I doing that? He caught the pen holder. It stopped shaking. As he pulled back his hand, the mouse rolled across the pad. He caught the pen holder. It stopped shaking. As he pulled back his hand, the mouse rolled across the pad.

"Well?" a voice said by my ear. "Are you just going to stand there?"

Liz stood at my shoulder. She jabbed her finger at the door.

"Go!"

I made sure Dr. Davidoff had his back to me, then eased through the door.

"Lock it!" she whispered.

I reached around and turned the lock. The pens chattered again, covering the click of the door latch.

Liz stepped through the wall and waved me to the chair like she was shooing a cat. I'd barely settled in with the book when the door opened.

Dr. Davidoff took a slow look around the room. I followed his gaze, frowning, like I was wondering what he was searching for. I forced myself to look past Liz perched on the side table.

"Dr. Davidoff?"

He said nothing, just looked around.

"Did you forget something?" I asked.

He murmured about checking on dinner, then left after pausing at the door for one last, slow look around.

"Thank you," I said to Liz after Dr. Davidoff had locked me in again. "I know you're mad at me, for saying you're dead-"

"Because I'm obviously not dead, am I? You said the reason I couldn't touch stuff or move it was because I was a ghost." She smiled smugly, pulling her knees up and hugging them. "So I worked really hard at moving stuff. If I concentrate, I can. That means I must be a shaman."

Earlier I'd tried to explain why I hadn't told her sooner that she was a ghost. I'd said I'd thought she might be a shaman, because Derek said they could astral-project-appear without their bodies.

"They've got me drugged up," she continued. "That's why I keep getting all confused. I can't wake up, so my spirit is moving around instead."

She dangled her legs again and made figure eights with her feet, watching the giraffes on her socks dance. She didn't believe what she was saying. She knew she was dead. But she wasn't ready to face it.

As for being able to move objects, Dr. Davidoff had said one kind of ghost could: a telekinetic half-demon. When Liz got mad, objects had attacked whoever she was angry at. Now, as a ghost, she'd finally learned to harness her power.

In life, Liz thought she had a poltergeist. In death, she was one. She just couldn't accept that yet. And I wasn't going to force her.

Eight.

W E HAD SPAGHETTI AND E HAD SPAGHETTI AND meatb.a.l.l.s for dinner. Rae's favorite. I couldn't eat, only sipping at a gla.s.s of flat c.o.ke, but she didn't notice my loss of appet.i.te. She was like a kid on her first day back from camp, with so much to tell that it burbled out in one endless stream. meatb.a.l.l.s for dinner. Rae's favorite. I couldn't eat, only sipping at a gla.s.s of flat c.o.ke, but she didn't notice my loss of appet.i.te. She was like a kid on her first day back from camp, with so much to tell that it burbled out in one endless stream.

She'd had a training session, a demonology lecture, and a long talk with Dr. Davidoff, who told her all about her mother and their hopes of contacting her. And as she talked, all I could think was, We've been genetically modified. We're Frankenstein monsters We've been genetically modified. We're Frankenstein monsters-failed Frankenstein monsters. And I have no idea how I'm going to break it to you. Frankenstein monsters. And I have no idea how I'm going to break it to you.

"I saw Brady today," I finally blurted.

Rae stopped, fork raised, dangling spaghetti strands swaying. "Brady? Seriously? He's here. Oh my G.o.d, that is so cool." Her grin blazed. "And you know what the first words out of that boy's mouth are gonna be? 'I told you so.' He kept saying there was nothing wrong with him, that something weird was going on-"

"He's dead Rae. I contacted his ghost."

She blinked. One slow blink, and then it was like someone paralyzed every muscle in her face, and it went completely still, her eyes empty, expressionless.

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to blurt it out like-"

"Why would you make up such a"-she seemed to chew over her words, searching for the best, before spitting out-"vicious lie." lie."

"Lie? No! I'd never-"

"Why are you doing this, Chloe?"

"Because we're in danger. We've been genetically modified and it didn't work. The Edison Group killed Liz and Brady and-"

"And it's only a matter of time before they kill us all. Mwah-ha-ha! Mwah-ha-ha! You really do watch too many movies, don't you? And now those boys have brainwashed you with their conspiracy theory c.r.a.p." You really do watch too many movies, don't you? And now those boys have brainwashed you with their conspiracy theory c.r.a.p."

"Conspiracy theory?"

"All their talk about Lyle House and the evil people Simon's dad worked for. Those guys have you so brainwashed, you need to make the Edison Group into the bad guys. So don't tell me stories about Liz and Brady being dead."

My voice went as cold as hers. "You don't believe me? Fine. I'll summon Liz and you can ask her a question only she could answer."

"Don't bother."

I stood. "No, really. I insist. It'll only take a sec."

When I closed my eyes, her chair squealed. Fingers clamped around my forearm. I opened my eyes to see her face, inches away.

"Don't play games, Chloe. I'm sure you can make me think Liz is here."

I looked into her eyes and saw a glimmer of fear. Rae wouldn't let me summon Liz because she didn't want to know the truth.

"Just let me-" I began.

"No."

She gripped my arm tighter, her fingers scorching hot. I gasped and yanked back. She let go quickly and a stricken look crossed her face. She started to apologize, then stopped herself, marched across the room, called reception, and said we were done with dinner.

I was actually glad to get back to my cell. I needed to figure out how I could convince Rae that we needed to escape...and what I'd do if I couldn't.

I had to get out. Those question marks beside Derek's name meant they hadn't decided what to do with him, and I'd already known that. Now I'd seen the same marks beside my name.

I needed to come up with an escape plan fast. But the moment I stretched out on my bed to start thinking, I discovered that my c.o.ke at dinner hadn't been just flat. It had been drugged.

I fell into a dreamless sleep and didn't wake until someone touched my shoulder. I opened my eyes to see Sue, the gray-haired woman who'd chased us at the factory yard. She stood there, smiling down at me like a kindly nurse. My stomach twisted and I had to glance away.

"Time to get up, honey," she said. "Dr. Davidoff let you sleep in today, but we have a full afternoon of lessons that I'm sure you don't want to miss."

"A-afternoon?" I said, sitting up. "What time is it?"

"Almost eleven thirty. Rach.e.l.le and Victoria are finishing up their morning lessons and they'll meet you in the dining room for lunch."

Nine.

L UNCH WAS VEGGIE WRAPS UNCH WAS VEGGIE WRAPS, salad, and bottled water. Tori's choice apparently. Rae said a polite h.e.l.lo to me, then not another word. At least she'd made eye contact, though, which was more than I could say for Tori.

We were finishing up when Dr. Davidoff came in.

"I apologize for the interruption, girls," he said, "but I need to speak to Chloe."

I rose. "Sure. Where-?"

"Here's fine."

He took his time settling into a chair. Sweat trickled down the back of my neck, like a kid singled out in front of the cla.s.s.

"We appreciate the help you've given us to try finding Simon, Chloe. We're very worried, as you girls know."

"Sure," Rae said. "He needs that medicine. If I had any idea where to find him, I'd tell-"

She stopped and looked at me. Tori did the same, and I understood why I wasn't getting this lecture in private.

"I gave you that list of places," I said quickly. "That's all I have."

"They weren't there, Chloe," Dr. Davidoff said. "So we've reconsidered your offer. We'd like to take you along on our search this afternoon."

That crash I heard? The collision of cliches. One: never look a gift horse in the mouth. Two: if it sounds too good to be true, it probably is. I'd been lied to and misled often enough in the last few days that I wasn't just questioning this horse's dental health-I was examining him from nose to tail.

"You want me to go with you..."

"Yes, and, with luck, the boys will see you and come out. There's just one problem."

Oh, I was sure there were lots lots of problems with this scenario. of problems with this scenario.

"The places you've given us don't seem right," he said. "The boys are clever, and their dad taught them well. They'd either choose a private spot or a very public one, and the possibilities you've provided are neither. We think there might be one you forgot to mention." He paused, meeting my gaze. "If there isn't, then we don't see the point of taking you along."

That second crash? The sound of the other shoe dropping. Dr. Davidoff knew why I wanted to go with them, and he'd decided to play my game. Did I dare play along?

"Come on, Chloe," Rae whispered.

"You'd better not think you're protecting them by keeping your mouth shut," Tori said. "Simon's sick, Chloe. If he dies, I hope he haunts you until-"

"That's enough, Tori," Dr. Davidoff said.

"I...might have another idea," I said. Oh G.o.d, I'd better better have another idea. As hard as I thought, though, I needed time to come up with something good, and I wasn't going to get that time. So I stumbled through a lame story about Derek and me running through that factory yard, until we found a hiding spot. Maybe that's where he meant for our rendezvous spot. Only it had been dark, and we'd run through so many buildings that I wasn't sure exactly which one we'd hidden in, but I'd recognize it when I saw it. have another idea. As hard as I thought, though, I needed time to come up with something good, and I wasn't going to get that time. So I stumbled through a lame story about Derek and me running through that factory yard, until we found a hiding spot. Maybe that's where he meant for our rendezvous spot. Only it had been dark, and we'd run through so many buildings that I wasn't sure exactly which one we'd hidden in, but I'd recognize it when I saw it.

Dr. Davidoff smiled, and I braced for him to call me on it, but he just said, "Then it's a good thing you're coming, isn't it?"

"And me," Tori said. "I've barely been out of my room since we got here, and I haven't been outside outside since Chloe arrived at Lyle House. I want to go, too." since Chloe arrived at Lyle House. I want to go, too."

"It isn't a field trip," Rae muttered.

"Your help, while appreciated, won't be necessary," Dr. Davidoff said.

"You think I want to help help? Sure, I'll look around, for Simon's sake. But I need to go shopping."