I Kissed a Dog

chapter 39

“Wake up! Chloe!” a shrill whisper whistled through my mind, knocking me from my sleep-induced vision and almost off my bunk.

Grabbing the thin blanket, I pushed up into a sitting position and found myself facing a wide-eyed Connie. Deb was snoring obscenely, her book flopped open over her face, several pages fluttering as she exhaled.

I was annoyed by Connie’s interruption. I needed to learn more from David but had no idea when he’d reappear. “So, now you’ll talk to me?” I whispered, sounding harsher than intended.

“Sorry about earlier, but I couldn’t risk it. Jazmine and her flunkies are psychotic at best.”

I couldn’t agree more with her judgment, and I was relieved she hadn’t taken my negative reaction to heart. I could use an ally in this Godforsaken place.

“So you know her real name too? Everyone else calls her The Mistress,” I hissed Jazmine’s pathetic, pornographic title, hating the way the words polluted my mouth.

Mistress of Misery and Mayhem fit our captor like a well-tailored suit. I envisioned greeting her with the title next time she materialized.

Connie inched closer, prompting me to do the same, until we were both teetering perilously close to the edges of our cots. Deb chose that moment to groan and then take a haphazard swipe at her blanket before returning to her snoring session.

Right now, it was crucial that we avoid waking our roommate. Connie seemed to agree as she maneuvered off her bed with great skill, pillow and blanked tucked under her arm.

Adjusting my weight, I followed her example and joined her on the floor by the dressers. I attempted to cocoon myself in my lone blanket, making sure I had a clear view of the sleeping, snoring beauty.

“Don’t worry; you’ll know if she wakes up. The engine will stop roaring.” Connie smirked.

I was beginning to like the fresh-faced blonde. She seemed to have the sarcastic routine down.

Not sure how much time we had before Deb emerged from dreamland, I fired off several questions I’d been dying to ask anyone with answers. “What is this place and why are you here? I think I know why they want me, but what about the rest of the women? And, Jazmine, how do you know her name?”

“This is an old, abandoned high school. All I know is it’s on an Indian reservation somewhere in Northern Washington.”

The school’s location made sense in light of what I’d learned at yesterday’s board meeting. Picturing Zane sent a fresh stab of longing through my core.

“As for our mysterious mistress …” Connie, unaware of my inner torment, glanced at Deb before continuing. “She showed up at the specialty bridal store where I work, about three weeks ago; said she was planning the wedding of the century. That’s what they all say.

Anyway, I smelled what she was right away. I was surprised she’d chosen to frequent a mutant-owned shop, being a purebred and all. We helped her pick out a gown, and then she returned a week later to check on its progress even though we’d given her a pickup date.”

I seethed at the thought of Jazmine planning a wedding to my husband. My. Husband. Thoughts of Zane threatened to generate a river of tears, something I didn’t have time to indulge. Swallowing hard, I met Connie’s eyes.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Nothing that I can’t deal with. Please … go on.”

“Well, like I said, she came back unannounced with two of her boy toys. Sensing danger, but not sure what to do, I did my best to please her. She still needed her bridesmaid dresses.

When I bent over to grab our latest sample book, one of her men knocked me out cold. I woke up in a van full of other mutant women. I happened to be seated closest to the front divider. I overheard the driver call her Jazmine. That was the first time that I heard anyone use her given name. She’d listed the name, Zane Marshall, on all her wedding documentation at the shop.”

I felt the usual wave of jealousy spiral through me

None of this made any sense. The one thing I was sure about: how much I hated Jazmine.

Maybe she was insane with no hidden motives. She’d certainly made her craving for Zane known to me. Maybe her sole purpose was to marry him and produce a litter of pups.

No. She was doing something far more devious than planning a wedding to an already married man. Her clandestine medical activities proved that. Killing off the men in Plum Beach, and searching for ancient coins weren’t part of her marriage preparations either.

Connie glanced again at Deb and lowered her voice. “I know this sounds stupid, but one of the others, a woman who has been here a long time, said The Mistress was rounding up all the most attractive mutant females to keep us under control, so she could use us as servants for her new army.”

I’d heard all about the whole army thing in my dream with David. “Great. Another take over the world scheme. A modern day Hitler who sprouts fur and …”

The snoring came to a sudden halt. Like an operating switch had been flicked into the off position. I stiffened and felt Connie tense beside me.

A few grumbles and pillow punches later and Deb settled back down.

Giving Connie a warning look, I nodded for her to continue.

By the time she finished, I’d pieced together a theory. One with a number of gaping holes, but it was better than nothing.

Jazmine, her sidekick, Martin, from Logan’s Board of Directors, along with a bunch of mutant-wannabe-warriors, were attempting to collapse the current purebred hierarchy and take control of their business interests, and God knew what else.

This wasn’t a fight for equal rights, more like a hostile takeover.

And as Connie had explained, it appeared as if Jazmine was trapping mutant women to do her bidding, ensuring she kept the upper hand with her male followers.

Unluckily for Jazmine, more of the female mutants were going to form bonds with their alleged, Loyal-to-The Mistress’ captors, following in the footsteps of Connie and Dillon’s blissful example.

In addition, according to Connie, Deb had started out as a serious ringleader, stirring up unrest and causing Jazmine more than a few headaches. Rather than killing her, Jazmine now used our still-snoring roommate’s popularity with the other women to her advantage.

Deb had been converted to the “lower level” spy; rooming with the women deemed rebellious, thus unworthy to serve their Mistress. In order to keep her circulating amongst the others, the time to reinsert her back into the general population had arrived. The cycle would continue. Deb would seek out any dissenters and report them while pretending to be their accomplice

Dillon had trusted Connie with the secret, warning her to keep any anti-Mistress views to herself. He was determined to protect Connie, even going as far as to start planning an escape.

If I had anything to say about it, me and any other desiring woman would be joining the lovebirds when they decided to leave the nest.

After two hours of hushed conversation, I determined Connie was worthy of my trust. I had to believe in someone. There was no way I’d get out of here alive on my own. Having a guard on our side would be yet another bonus.

Once we’d decided to trust each other, I launched into my own story, skipping the parts about Valamir, the coins, and my own advanced mindreading talents.

As I’d done so many times before, I shared an abridged version of my special skills, sticking to how the animal communication process had worked in the beginning. I didn’t want Connie or Dillon aware of my ability to delve into their minds’ darkest corners.

Under the circumstances, I could trust just enough to take the next step.

Anymore might prove deadly.