His brows shoot up. “Wow. Okay. Wasn’t expecting that as your first question. Is there a particular reason you want to know?”
I cross my arms and hug myself. Is Jackson one of them? Is he some sort of spy? Worse . . . is he a shell? Is he an alien inside a human form? I should come right out and tell Luka what I saw, but that feels like a betrayal. I don’t want to stab Jackson in the back; I just want to make sure that he isn’t going to stab me first. “You said you’d give me answers, not offer questions for my questions.”
Luka scrapes his fingers back through his dark hair and frowns. “Okay. I did say that. No, I’ve never seen him without the shades.”
More questions leap to the tip of my tongue. Didn’t you ever wonder about them? Didn’t you ever ask him why he wears them? But asking Luka will only make him suspicious, and I’m not ready to divulge Jackson’s secret, not until I have the chance to stand face-to-face and demand answers from him. So I head in a different direction. “You’ve seen a room like that with all those . . . people . . . before. In Arizona.”
“It was smaller. Not as many—” He looks around as though deciding if it’s safe to talk. “Not as many rows of . . . people. But pretty much the same.”
“Those—” I break off and consider my words. “Those girls—can we call them shells?”
“I guess.” He looks around again. “Yeah, I guess we can.”
“Did you know them? Did they look familiar?”
He frowns again and shakes his head. “No, why?”
“I don’t know. Something about them nagged at me.” He just stares at me, waiting for more. I’m frustrated because I don’t have anything more, just a weird feeling that I’m missing something important. “Did you notice that they all looked the same?”
Luka nods. “Same original donor.”
That’s what Jackson called the dead girl in the cold room. “But the shells in Arizona came from a different donor?”
“Yeah.” He sounds upset. I don’t blame him. The Drau stole girls, killed them by taking their brains, kept their bodies alive with machines, and used their DNA to grow an army of mindless clones, also kept alive by machines. Clones who weren’t quite right and ended up rotting from the inside out. I’d say that’s reason to be upset.
“Do they use male original donors? Do they create male shells?” The questions come out in a rush.
Luka thinks about that. “I don’t know. I’ve only ever seen females. But I’ve only ever seen two places like this, so that isn’t much to go on.”
The relief I’d like to feel doesn’t come. Just because Luka hasn’t seen a male shell doesn’t mean they don’t exist. I’m quiet for a second.
“Luka, have you ever heard them speak?”
He knows I’m asking about the Drau. His brows draw together in a frown. “I don’t think so. I’ve heard them”—he cuts me a glance through his lashes—“I’ve, um, heard them scream. At the end, if you know what I mean. But not speak. I think they have this telepathy thing. . . .”
Unease crawls through me. “Do we? I mean, do you have a telepathy thing? Have you ever heard someone in your head?”
He’s still frowning. Slowly, he shakes his head. “No. Why?”
I shrug, trying to look casual. “Jackson said something about wanting to question one of the Drau. I was wondering how he would do that.” Through some sort of telepathy? Because he’s one of them? The thought is like liquid nitrogen in my soul. I don’t want Jackson to be one of the bad guys.
I can see that Luka’s about to ask me something. I don’t give him the chance because I’m not sure I want to offer answers.
“I appreciate that you’re answering my questions, Luka. The thing is, I’d like to know why.”
He looks confused. “You asked me to.”
“But I asked before, too, and you refused. What’s changed?”
“I told you, I’m sorry I left you alone before. That I didn’t tell you stuff.”
“I know. And I’m okay with that.” Sort of. I’m not so good at the forgiveness thing. “But why are you telling me stuff now?”
Now he looks embarrassed. He shrugs. “Jackson told you stuff, and he didn’t die a slow and painful death. Or a quick and painless one. So I figure that it’s okay to talk, so long as we’re careful.”
“Okay, that makes sense.” I think about my next words and choose them with care. “But I agree that we still need to be careful. I think that there really is a danger if we talk about stuff here in the real world. Maybe there are shells living right next door to us.” My gaze slides along the street, then back to Luka. “After what I saw today, I think the rules really are there for a reason.”
“I never thought they weren’t.”
A cool breeze dances across my skin. Except, there’s no breeze; it’s a hot, sunny, sticky day. Again, I look up the street, then down. There’s no one else around. Just to be sure, I recheck, letting my gaze slide along the porches of the houses closest to us.