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Heightened: The Federation Series Page 11


  I think for a moment. I thought so too, but I realize it’s not fear but fearlessness that I am experiencing now.

  We follow the officers to the shuttle. We don’t enter the same car as they do; we ride the car behind them. I can see into their car, and I’m able to keep a close eye on them. We ride for about 20 minutes, deep into the center of the city. The streets are dark and quiet. Most of the passengers have gotten off the shuttle.

  We come to a stop and the men exit their car to the right. We exit to the left. We take cover behind a shrub and wait for the shuttle to leave. We watch them enter the building across the street. There are glowing signs in the window, and we can hear music playing inside.

  “Where are we?” Mandy’s voice is cheerful. She must have finally changed emotions. “It’s so quaint.”

  “I think it’s a bar?” Grace says. “I’ve heard about these. They are illegal, right?”

  “Yes, they are,” I say. I head across the street. My friends follow me. I hesitate for a moment before I open the door. I think about Adam and what he would think if he knew what I was about to do. He would not be pleased.

  “We only have tonight,” Grace says.

  “Tonight,” I repeat, “and they are in there…if we get in trouble, they have to help us, right?”

  “Right,” Mandy grabs my arm and pulls me inside. Grace follows.

  It’s dark and loud. I cough. An unusual smell and smoke fill the air. At first I think the room might be on fire but I notice that the smoke is coming from something sticking out of the mouth of a man sitting at a counter.

  “Cigarettes!” Grace squeals. “Isn’t this exciting?”

  “I’m starting to think this might not have been the best idea.” I apparently have switched from fearlessness to regret.

  “We’re not backing out now,” Mandy says. “Look, they’re over there.”

  We start to follow, but a large, unclean man steps in front of us.

  “Where do you think you are going?”

  “We’re with them.” Mandy points towards the officers. “We’re interns and we’re running late. If we don’t catch up, we’re going to be in trouble.”

  He places his hand on his chin and appears to mull over Mandy’s story. “Okay, go ahead, but don’t think for a minute you’re fooling me with that story.”

  “Thank you,” Grace says.

  “Hey, just be careful.” He says. “Where you’re going, no one is going to care who you are or what you do. Stay close to your officers.”

  We push through the crowd and enter a hallway that leads to a staircase. We climb down two flights and then enter another corridor. In front of us is a set of elevators. We wait.

  The doors finally open and we step inside. It goes down.

  “I can’t believe we are doing this,” I say, my voice is shaky...fear again. My emotions are jumping back and forth. I make a conscious effort to focus and even out my responses. It is supposed to get easier as the night goes on; once our bodies get used to the program we will gain more control.

  “We just need to stick together.” Mandy was now experiencing, reassurance?

  The doors opened. We stepped out into another hallway. We walked towards the music. We stepped out into a room full of people. Some were dancing, some were standing around, but all of them are touching.

  I know we are in trouble, as soon as I realize we are the only interns in the room. We must have traveled several stories below the city. We head into the crowd, and I hold onto Graces's hand. I’m afraid I will get lost.

  “Where did they go?” Mandy tries to shout over the crowd.

  “I don’t know,” I say.

  “Look, over there!”

  They are standing at the bar, and they’re not alone. There are females with them, all over them. There is a girl sitting on Quinn’s lap, and he has one hand on her waist and the other on her leg. I can feel the heat spread across my face. I don’t have to guess what emotion I am feeling right at this moment…I’m feeling anger. I’ve felt it before, but not as intense and focused as I am right now.

  Grace looks disappointed. “Do you think they are their girlfriends?”

  “No, I think they are something entirely different.” I look around the room. The women are all barely dressed, and the men have their hands all over them. Fear and self-preservation replace my anger. I’m starting to gain a better control of myself. “I think this is a bad idea.”

  “No, it’s our one chance to live like humans are supposed to live,” Grace says. “I’m going to kiss someone tonight.”

  “Let’s get a drink.” Mandy pulls me along again.

  We sit at the bar, at the opposite end from the officers.

  “Why don’t we just walk up to them?” asks Grace. “I want to kiss him.”

  “I think we might be in trouble if they find us here,” I say. “Adam is going to kill me.”

  “What will it be ladies?” the bartender asks.

  “Surprise us,” says Mandy.

  He comes back with a round of dark blue and orange drinks; I take the first sip. It’s fruity and goes right down. My head starts to feel fuzzy and light, but I drink another and another.

  “How much do we owe you?” Grace asks the bartender.

  “Nothing,” he says, “the man at the table one paid for your drinks.”

  I look over and see a tall man, staring at us. “Why would he do that?”

  “Maybe he’s just nice?” says Grace.

  “Let’s dance,” Mandy grabs our hands and pulls us out into the room.

  We aren’t out there long before we are joined by a group of young men. They aren’t dressed in Federation approved attire, and their hair is longer than regulation too. One of the men grabs Mandy by the waist and pulls her to him. He grabs her shoulders and presses her tight against him, and then he kisses her.

  Grace and I just stare with our mouths wide open. Grace laughs and wraps her arms around one of the other guys. My head is fuzzy, and I feel like the floor is moving beneath my feet. I need to sit down. But I’m quickly grabbed up by one of the men.

  His hand slides down my back, and he grabs my butt and pushes himself against me. I push away. He kisses my neck, and I grab his head and twist him away. He doesn’t let go.

  I don’t fight anymore because I’m not sure I can stand on my own. The drink must have been strong. I feel a wave of heat, and before I know it; I’m throwing myself all over him.

  He doesn’t resist. His tongue is on my neck, licking his way down to my collar bone, along my chest and down between my breast. I tip my head back and let him explore. He has one hand on my waist and the other on the front of my shirt. He grabs my breast and runs his finger over my nipple.

  I let out a moan.

  “Are you okay?” Grace asks. She grabs me and yanks me away from the man. “What are you doing?”

  “It feels amazing,” I say. “I had no idea.”

  “What about Quinn?”

  I look over at the bar. The girl is still sitting on his lap. An intense urge to grab the girl by the neck, and drag her away from him, and beat her senseless, overtakes me.

  “I’m going to kill her,” I say, and head towards them.

  Grace grabs me and drags me away, “You need to stop.”

  “He’s mine,” I say. “She can’t be touching him. Let me go!”

  “I’m not letting you do something stupid,” she says. “Sit down!”

  I look at her, and I can tell she’s serious. I take a seat. She doesn’t release her grip on my arm. I rest my head on my hand and sip an ice water. The entire room is spinning. I close my eyes.

  “He’s coming over here,” Grace says.

  “Who,” I ask?

  “Your officer,” Grace’s voice is sharp. I hold my head.

  I hear Mandy’s voice, “Are we in trouble?”

  “What do you think?”

  I look at him. He is angry. His friends are with him.

  “Come on, it’s the h
eightening,” Grace says. “Let’s just have fun, and tomorrow, if you regret it, then we can be in trouble.”

  I groan. What is wrong with her? What is wrong with me?

  “I’m game,” one of them says. “I’m Smith; this is Max, and Mr. Wonderful is Quinn.”

  “This is not a good idea,” says Quinn. “Max?”

  “I’m Grace,” her voice is so sickly sweet that I think I might throw up.

  She walks up to him and smiles. He doesn’t take his eyes off of her but doesn’t look impressed. She looks pathetic. It’s disgusting.

  I plop my head back down on my hands and close my eyes.

  “You gonna be okay?” Grace asks.

  I wave my hand at her. I’m afraid if I open my mouth I won’t be able to control my stomach.

  “We won’t be far if you need anything,” Grace leaves with Max, and Mandy and Smith join them. I’m alone with Quinn; I’ve wanted this all day, but now all I want is to close my eyes and fall asleep.

  “What the Hell are you doing here,” he asks?

  “Go away,” I say.

  “You need to come with me,” he says. “I have to detain you.”

  “I can’t,” I say.

  “You understand the punishment for resisting an officer, right?”

  I mumble. My stomach is churning, and I know I can not physically move at this point without getting sick. I gag but manage to hold it in.

  “What did you drink?” he says.

  “What do you care,” I ask? “You seemed perfectly happy with her.”

  He sighs, “Emma, I don’t know what you think, but I don’t plan on spending my Heightening arguing with an intern. We’ve been investigating you all night.”

  “What did I do,” I ask, knowing that I have given him every reason to not only investigate me, but detain and neutralize me.

  “Are you complacent,” he asks?

  “I have no idea what I am right now,” I say. “It’s the Heightening; I don’t have to be complacent.”

  He’s quiet for a moment. “You have a point.”

  “If you detain me,” I say, “you’ll ruin your night, and that girl hasn’t stopped looking over here since you came over.”

  He looks towards the girl. She waves to him and blows him a kiss. “She’s nobody.’

  “You might as well go and have intercourse with her because I’m not touching you,” I say.

  He laughs, “What makes you think I’d be interested in an intern? You have nothing to offer me.”

  I don’t reply. I know I have the world to offer him. I remember being wrapped in his arms, spending hours together.

  “What did you drink,” he asks again?

  I point to my glass. He picks it up and smells it, and then sets it back down.

  “What did it look like,” he asks, “did it taste funny?”

  “I don’t know,” I’m annoyed, “it was a rainbow.”

  “You’re kidding me,” he huffs. “You bought a drink and you have no idea what it was?”

  “I didn’t buy it,” I sputter, “some guy did.”

  “Who?” He sits next to me.

  “I don’t know…over there.”

  I fold, my arms on the bar, and my head is resting so I can look at him. He places his hand on my back, and he rubs me in a soft circular motion. I groan. It feels incredible. I grin and close my eyes.

  I hear him laugh, “You are messed up.”

  “Mmm, hmm,” I’m drifting off into sleep. “Quinn?”

  “Yeah,” he says.

  “I just wanted you to know that I try,” I stammer. “I always try, but I’m not fast enough…strong enough, but it’s not because I don’t try.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You,” I whisper.

  “What about me?”

  “I run,” I say, “but you’re better than me, smarter.”

  “You’re not making any sense,” he says.

  “Just once,” I say, “let me die, don’t save me.”

  “You need to go home,” he says, “I’ll be right back.”

  I don’t move. The bar is solid and if I press my face to it; I feel stable.

  “How are you feeling,” Mandy sits beside me, “Quinn says we need to take you home.”

  I don’t respond. I can’t even open my eyes, without the entire room twisting and shaking. Mandy’s words vibrate through my head.

  “I think he’s right,” says Grace.

  “Ladies, I hope your evening is all you expected it to be.” I look up and see a rough looking man. “My name is Marcus.”

  “I’m Grace; this is Mandy,” Grace’s voice is scratchy, “that is Emma.”

  “Emma, what a beautiful name,” he’s talking to me. He grabs my hand. “Well, ladies I’ve come to reap my kindness.”

  “Excuse me?” asks Grace.

  “You’re not from around here,” he says, “I paid for your drinks, now you pay me for my kindness.”

  “How much?” asks Mandy.

  “Her,” he points to me.

  “We can pay you,” says Grace. I can hear the panic in her voice.

  “Sorry, I don’t negotiate.” He grabs my arm and pulls me up, another wave of nausea, floods over me. “When I’m finished with her, I’ll send her down and you can retrieve her from the bartender.”

  “No, wait” Grace grabs, my other arm.

  Marcus pushes her down and pulls me away.

  I’m in trouble.

  I look over my shoulder. Grace tries to come after me, but a mountain of a man steps in front of her. She looks at me.

  I feel like I’m going to be sick. Every step sends a ripple across the contents of my stomach. I look into the crowd of the bar to where the guys are talking. Grace follows my stare; she nods and disappears into the crowd.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Emma

  We head into a back hall. It’s dark and grimy. We walk by a door that leads into the kitchen area; the smell of fried food, mixed with stale alcohol, almost sends my stomach into an uncontrollable convulsion.

  I gag and cover my mouth with my free hand. I’m trying to think, but my mind is still fuzzy. I look over my shoulder. Where are they?

  I’m not paying attention to where I’m placing my feet, and I land in a puddle of something. I slip, but Marcus yanks me up.

  “Ouch!” I push against him.

  “Stop!” he jerks me.

  I limp. I twisted my left ankle, and now it hurts. He doesn’t care; he just keeps pulling me along.

  We come to a set of stairs. He starts down. I grab the rail.

  “I can’t,” I say, “my ankle. I hurt it; I need to rest.”

  “No,” he says, “there’s no time.”

  “Please,” I beg.

  He tightens his grip and drags me down the stairs. I lean heavily on him, trying to keep my weight on my right foot.

  We go down two flights, and then we exit through an old rusty door. It makes a sharp, scraping noise, as it closes behind us. Two men meet us; they walk with us, down the hall. We enter a room, but they stay outside.

  Marcus lets go of me. I back away. He takes off his jacket and places it over the back of a chair.

  “My friends will look for me,” I say.

  “They won’t find you,” he says, “and if they do; they won’t make it past the guards.”

  “I’ll scream,” I say.

  “Why would you want to do that?”

  “I’m going to fight you,” I try to keep my voice calm. I don’t want to let him know how terrified I am. “I won’t go easy.”

  “I don’t believe you. You didn’t put up much of a fight coming down here,” he says. He sits in the chair and crosses his legs.”

  He’s right, I could have kicked and screamed, but I didn’t. Why? Maybe someplace deep inside, I wanted to be taken.

  “I may be small,” I say, “but I am strong.”

  “I hope so,” he says.

  “You’re sick,” I snap. />
  He laughs, “Emma, the last thing I want is to bed you.”

  “What?” I’m confused. “Then why am I here?”

  “Because you have something that my boss wants,” he says, “and he’s willing to do anything to get it.”

  “I don’t have anything,” I say.

  “You’re wrong,” he says. “You have everything. We’ve been watching you for a while. I just can’t believe you were dumb enough to walk right into our club.”

  “I don’t know what you are talking about,” I back up until I bump into the bed.

  “It has taken us years to figure out just how they were doing it,” he says. “The answer was so simple; we overlooked it.”

  “Doing what?”

  “You can’t trust anyone, “he says. “Especially, not those officers you were hanging out with tonight. You should be thanking me.”

  “Why?”

  “For saving you,” he says. “It wouldn’t be long before they figured out who you are.”

  “Who am I?”

  “You are the answer; we’ve all been waiting for, all these years,” he says.

  “You have got to have the wrong person,” I say. I sit on the bed. My ankle is swollen, and my head is still spinning. “I’m nobody.”

  “That’s what makes it such a brilliant plan,” he laughs. “You are nobody.”

  “How am I your answer?” I collapse on the bed. It feels so comfy, and my head is spinning.

  “I can’t talk about it,” he leans closer to me, “my boss will be coming soon, and he will answer all your questions.”

  “What if I don’t cooperate?” I say. “What if my friends find me?”

  “You don’t want that to happen,” he says. “He will not stop until he has what he needs, and he will make you cooperate.”

  He turns and looks at the door. I peer over too. I don’t hear anything. He stands and backs towards me. I sit up.

  “What…”

  He motions for me to be silent.

  I hear, what I think is a scuffle, from the other side of the door.

  He turns and looks at me, “don’t trust anyone, not even my boss. You need to get out of the city, and back home.”

  “I don’t understand,” I say.

  “Listen,” he says. “If it comes down to death or giving up the information…you must choose death. Don’t let anyone get it, no one, understand?”