As she rounded the corner, she saw Lucky ahead. He turned and met her eyes. She never thought she’d see someone so brave look so afraid.
A scream came from behind her, and she whirled to find Nok with a hand over her mouth, letting out frightened little gasps. A creeping feeling crawled up her neck—the same feeling she got around the black windows, only a thousand times stronger. Lucky crashed into her, holding her tight, preventing her from turning around.
“What is it?”
“Don’t, Cora. Don’t look.”
Whatever was standing right behind her was terrifying even to someone as brave as him. But he couldn’t stop her from looking. She had to.
She looked over her shoulder.
They weren’t alone.
11
Cora
A NEW FIGURE—A MAN—STOOD next to the cherry tree. He had to be close to seven feet tall. Something about his black uniform suggested a soldier, though Cora had never seen clothes like his before. They fit closely to the muscles of his arms and chest and moved with him so seamlessly that they were almost liquid cloth—except for the row of knots down one side. He wore a utility band slung across his chest, which glistened with equipment that looked far more advanced than the prototypes her father invested in. He carried himself as stiffly as a soldier in an army recruiting ad, with buzzed hair and the straight back of a warrior—except for a few key differences. His impressive height. His skin, which was somewhere in between the color of copper and bronze and reflected the sunlight like metal. And his eyes.
They had no irises. No pupils. They were entirely black.
Breath slipped from her. His was the face from her dreams. The most beautiful creature she had ever seen, yet he no longer looked angelic. He was terrifying.
And he isn’t human.
They weren’t in a dream, or virtual reality. They’d been taken by gods or aliens—or monsters.
The soldier flexed his glove.
Rolf fell to his knees. Nok crumpled next to him. The soldier’s presence screamed danger, but there was something captivating about him too, like staring into a flame. It was impossible to look away.
Coldness pooled between her shoulder blades. She leaned closer to Lucky, her heart pounding. Had this man been the shadowy figure behind those black windows? Studying them, like Rolf said? Was he the one who had dressed her in a stranger’s clothes?
Movement flickered to her left.
The black-eyed man’s presence didn’t seem to have the same captivating effect on Leon, who let out a war cry and lunged forward. Cora’s breath caught. Don’t fight back, that was the rule in situations like this, but Leon hadn’t gotten the memo—or hadn’t cared.
The soldier watched patiently, arms at his sides.
Leon collided with him.
Cora flinched. She expected cracking bones and spurting blood, but the moment Leon touched his shoulder, the stranger threw him. It was an effortless movement, no more than swatting a fly, but it sent Leon—who had to weigh 250 pounds—fifteen feet away.
All the strength from Cora’s body drained into the grass.
Leon pushed himself up, shaking the sweat out of his hair, looking stricken. “That bastard—he zapped me with some bloody thing!”
But the stranger held no weapons.
“Remain calm,” the soldier said. There was no trace of an accent, but his pitch was monotone and deep, just as unnatural as his eyes. “You are not in danger.”
“Who are you?” Lucky asked.
The soldier cocked his head. A second passed, and then another. Cora burrowed deeper against Lucky’s chest. The man’s eyes burned right through her, down to her innermost thought, hypnotizing her with a single look. She traced her eyes over his bare arms, his hands, his chest. The angel from her dreams—or rather, a demon. He looked so very close to being human, but he was beyond that, clearly from another place or time. Not just his metallic skin and otherworldly beauty, but the magnetic feeling he gave off. He radiated otherness.
“I am your Caretaker,” he said.
“Take us home,” Lucky demanded.
The Caretaker tilted his head, as though perplexed by the idea. “That is impossible. You are on our aggregate space station, far from your solar system. These habitats are meant to replicate the lives you would have experienced on Earth. We hope it pleases you.”
Cora drew in a sharp breath.
Not on Earth?
Her fingers fell away from Lucky and curled around the edges of a nearby tree, her stomach weightless even though nothing had changed. The tree beneath her hand wasn’t real. The grass wasn’t real. It wasn’t attached to soil; only whatever made up their space station, metal and pipes and tubing and materials she’d probably never heard of.
A cherry-blossom petal fluttered to the ground.
It landed in the grass, and she jerked her head up. Nok sobbed loudly—real tears, nothing fake now—and Rolf took her hand, as though hand-holding could protect them. Leon lay flat like he’d been knocked out cold.
Stay calm. Wait for help. Meaningless words now.
“Why did you bring us here?” Cora asked.
“We took you for your own benefit. My people are called the Kindred. We are the most advanced among the intelligent species, and as such, take responsibility for overseeing lesser races. We are stewards of endangered species such as yours.”
“Endangered?” The word tasted wrong in Cora’s mouth. Siberian tigers were endangered. Polar bears were endangered. Not humans.
The Caretaker flexed his black gloves. “Earth is a dangerous and unpredictable world. The practices of your species are unsustainable. So we have brought you here, where we can ensure the survival of your race regardless of your planet’s well-being. Here you have ample sustenance and a microcosm of the various habitats and cultures in your world. We have given you a variety of stimuli to exercise your minds and bodies. You will find these enrichment activities to be rewarding.”