21
When Ridley woke again, there was no needle in her arm. The metal stand with the IV bag had been pushed away from the bed. “Ah, good morning,” Doc’s bright voice said, startling her. She turned her head to the other side and found him standing there, tapping away on the commpad again. “I did not expect you to be awake for another hour or two. Well, this means we can get on with the fun earlier rather than later.”
“The … fun?” Ridley blinked a few times. Her head didn’t feel nearly as muddled as the last time she’d woken, when Lilah was in here. Unless … had she dreamed that?
“I have good news and bad news.”
“Um, okay …”
“The good news is that I have been granted permission to stop sedating you,” Doc said. “I will also stop administering arxium. A new containment chamber has been under construction and was completed yesterday. You will be free to experiment with your power and the heirloom stone to see what more we can learn from you.”
“Oh. Great.” Silently, Ridley added, I’ve always wanted to be able to teach people things so they can use them to kill the rest of my kind. Out loud, she asked, “What’s the bad news?”
“Well, at this point it seems you are unfortunately no different from the other elementals. Your magic is no different, even though you are an heir. So there is no sense in keeping you around. Mr. Davenport has allowed me to run a few more experiments, mostly involving the heirloom stone, but if there is nothing to be gained, then we will dispose of you. He says you are more trouble than you’re worth.”
“Dispose of me.” Fear dragged an icy finger up Ridley’s spine. “Yeah, that—that is bad news. But … how do you know I’m no different? Does that mean …” Ridley shook her head. “Wait, is Lilah—did she …”
“Lilah Davenport is dying,” Doc said.
An odd ache sucked Ridley’s breath away. She and Lilah may have disliked one another for many years—even hated each other at times—but Ridley had never wanted her dead. She repeated the words in her head—Lilah Davenport is dying—but they sounded a little ridiculous. Lilah wasn’t the sort of person to simply … die. None of the Davenports were. If there was an obstacle in their way, it had no choice but to move. Plain and simple. It seemed as though death shouldn’t be any different.
“But she was fine last night,” Ridley argued.
Doc frowned. “Last night?”
“Yes, she … she was here, wasn’t she? You were here too. Or … did I dream that?”
Doc’s frown remained in place. “The sedative is strong. She should not have been able to wake you, and you should not remember if she did.” He shook his head. “Not that it matters. She may have seemed fine last night, but she is dying now. Slower than the others, but the same symptoms. The magic is visible just beneath her skin. She cannot pull it back within herself. Soon it will consume her.”
Ridley stared at him. The detached manner in which he listed Lilah’s symptoms made her shiver. “Can … can I see her?”
“No. You cannot see her. One of my colleagues will bring you some food soon and move you to the containment chamber. You will wait there until the arxium is gone from your system, and then you can begin experimenting.”
Lilah was dying. She was dying. Ridley couldn’t quite wrap her mind around the concept. Guilt crept in at the edge of her mind. It was her magic that was killing Lilah. It wasn’t her fault Lilah had used the serum on herself, but she still felt some sense of responsibility.
She thought of Archer, and the ache in her chest intensified. He loved his sister. Though his family wanted nothing to do with him now, he would hear of Lilah’s death soon enough. Would he ever know what had really killed her? If Ridley ever saw him again—if she ever managed to get herself out of here—would she be able to tell him? My magic killed your sister. Even in her head, the words were difficult to formulate.
Doc turned and strode toward the door, commpad in hand.
“Oh, wait,” Ridley said. “What about the stone? I need it so I can test things out.”
He let out a single laugh through his nose. “I’m not going to leave it with you now. It will remain locked up with all our important samples until you’re safely within the containment chamber and ready to use it.” He shook his head, laughing to himself as he left the room.
Well. So much for ending up alone with her mother’s stone so she could heal herself and get out of here. She’d have to figure something out once she was inside the containment chamber. Doc would probably flood it with arxium gas once he decided they were finished experimenting, forcing her to return to human form. She would have until then to figure out just how powerful she could be. She would explode her way out of there if she had to. Or burn the place down like she did last time. She had no idea how this containment chamber was supposed to be able to contain her—presumably Alastair Davenport would have put every possible precaution in place—but she would test it to its absolute limits.
Doc’s colleague, the woman in the lab coat and gas mask, walked into the room—minus the mask this time. Except … it wasn’t the same woman. It was—
“Christa,” Ridley said, so shocked to see the woman who’d given her up to the Shadow Society that her voice lacked all emotion. A moment later, an appropriate amount of rage boiled its way to the surface. “You!” she hissed as Christa disappeared from view behind the bed. “Wow. You know what? I’m actually not surprised. You were happy to leave us for dead, so I should have guessed you’d be happy to experiment on us as well.”
“Yep,” Christa said quietly. “That’s exactly right.” Something clicked loudly behind the bed, and then Christa wheeled it toward the door.
“You are one serious piece of work,” Ridley told her as she strained against the straps securing her wrists to the bed. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to do with her fists, exactly, but she couldn’t stand being so helpless while Christa wheeled her toward her fate. Everything inside her screamed to fight back. “You pretend to help people who just want to live a quiet life the way they used to before magic was banned, and all the while you’re secretly in league with the Shadow Society.”
“Will you shut the hell up?” Christa whispered. They were out in the hallway now. “I’m trying to get you out of here.”
“Oh, sure you are.”
“You know, Ridley, your survival instinct is impressive. I have to admit, I was surprised to see you alive.”
“No thanks to you.”
Christa steered the bed around a corner. “It wasn’t personal,” she said quietly.
“It sure felt personal when I woke up on the wrong side of the wall with a bunch of Shadow Society members trying to kill me.”
“I did what I had to do to protect the people in my bunker.”
“I was one of those people, Christa. As were Callie and Malachi and my dad. And however many other people you’ve handed over to the Shadow Society.”
The bed stopped in front of an elevator. Christa stepped around it and jabbed the button on the wall. She crossed her arms, saying nothing.