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"I smell food."
"Dead or alive?"
Clay laughed. "Dead, darling. Dead and cooked."
He heaved himself up, looked around, then motioned for me to wait and vanished into the woods. A half-minute later he returned with a picnic basket. Well, a cardboard box actually, but the smells drifting from it were definitely of the picnic variety. Laying it on the grass, he unpacked cheese, bread, fruit, a covered plate of chicken, a bottle of wine, and assorted paper and plastic eating tools.
"Picnic fairies?" I asked, then caught a whiff of scent that answered my question. "Jeremy." I grabbed a drumstick and tore a chunk from it. "I'm spoiled."
"You deserve it."
I grinned. "I do, don't I?"
We polished off the meal and the wine in under ten minutes. Then I reclined on the grass and sighed, content and sated for the first time in nearly two weeks. I closed my eyes and the first seductive tug of sleep washed over me. Sleep. Uninterrupted sleep. The perfect cap to a perfect day. I rolled against Clay, smiling drowsily, and let the waves of slumber pull me under. Then I bolted awake.
"We can't sleep out here," I said. "It's not safe."
Clay's lips brushed my forehead. "I'll stay awake, darling."
As I opened my mouth to argue, Jeremy's voice drifted from the distance. "You can both sleep. I'm here."
I hesitated, but Clay pulled me back down, entwining his legs around mine and cushioning my head with his arm. I wrapped myself in his warmth and fell asleep.
It was late afternoon when Jeremy nudged us awake. Clay grunted between snores but didn't move. I yawned, rolled over, and kept rolling until I was lying on my other side, whereupon I promptly fell back asleep. Jeremy shook us harder.
"Yes, I know you're still tired," he said as Clay grumbled something unintelligible. "But Elena needs to speak to the others today. I can't postpone it until morning."
Clay muttered under his breath.
"Yes, I know I could," Jeremy said. "But it would be rude. They've been waiting all day."
"We need--" I began.
"I brought your clothing."
"I need to brush--"
"There's a comb and mouthwash with the clothes. No, you're not going back to your room or I suspect I won't see either of you until morning. We're meeting in fifteen minutes. I'll keep it short."
The meeting was to be held in Kenneth and Adam's room. As we crossed the parking lot, I saw Paige pacing the crumbling sidewalk. Her arms were crossed, probably against the cool night air, but it looked as if she was holding in a barrage of questions she'd been waiting half a day to fire at me. Just what I need--No, that wasn't fair. Of course, Paige was anxious to speak to me. I'd been in the enemy camp. I'd seen what we were up against. It was understandable that she'd be bursting with questions about the compound, my captors, the other prisoners--Oh, God. Ruth. Paige didn't know about Ruth. The past week was such a jumble that I'd completely forgotten Paige had contacted me before Ruth died. The last she'd heard, her aunt was alive. Damn it! How could I have been so insensitive? Paige had been waiting for news of her aunt. She'd held off while Jeremy treated my wounds, given me time to shower, then came to ask about Ruth. And what had I done? I'd snuck out the bedroom window.
"I have to talk to Paige," I said.
"Stay in sight," Clay called as I jogged away.
As I approached, Paige turned and nodded, acknowledging my presence, but saying nothing. Her face was expressionless, any annoyance hidden under a veneer of good manners.
"How are you feeling?" she asked. "Jeremy says your wounds aren't too bad."
"About earlier," I said. "I'm--I wasn't thinking--it's been a hell of a day." I shook my head. "Sorry, that's a lousy excuse. You wanted to know about your aunt. I never thought--I shouldn't have--"
"She's gone, isn't she?"
"I'm so sorry. It happened after we lost contact, and I forgot you didn't know."
Paige's eyes moved from mine, turning to stare over the parking lot. I struggled for something to say, but before I could think of anything, she spoke, her gaze still fixed on some far-off point.
"I knew," she said, her voice as distant as her gaze. "I sensed she was gone, though I'd hoped I was wrong." She paused, swallowed, then shook her head sharply and turned back to me. "How did it happen?"
