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There was a whirring sound and after a short wait, the doors opened up.
“Ladies first.” Jackson gestured toward me with a grin.
I gave him a tight smile and stepped inside the elevator. Declan silently stood by my side, his arms crossed over his muscled chest. Jackson joined us, leaning his shoulder against the wall of the elevator as the doors closed.
“Shouldn’t take long,” he told us casually, as if he hung out in secret laboratories every day of his life.
While the elevator began to descend, I focused on slowing my breathing and trying to find my courage. Focusing on the positive would definitely help.
My answer could come today. The end of this nightmare.
My cure. A ticket back to a life that I’d formerly taken for granted, but I sure the hell would never do that again.
There were so many things I’d do differently this time, so many things in my life—normal, everyday things—that I missed. My introduction to death and monsters had shaken up every one of my previously held beliefs about the world, and I knew that darkness lurked in the shadows, darker than I ever thought possible. But this knowledge had only worked to make me hold tightly onto life, to see it as precious and temporary, and to value it more than anything else.
Where there’s life, there’s hope.
Jillian Conrad: Positive Thoughts Only.
Who knew? But it was true. Under my veneer of pessimism and paranoia, there existed a shiny layer of hope. And I had more than enough of it to share with Declan, whether he wanted it or not.
The elevator doors finally opened to a long white hallway that reminded me of a hospital. And this hallway wasn’t empty like upstairs. There were people there, a few men, and a couple women, wearing white lab coats. They took little notice of us as we exited the elevator and began to follow Jackson down the hallway.
So far, this felt much more like a secret underground research facility than the upstairs portion had hinted at. With each step I took I felt more courage, more resolve, and more of that bright and shiny hope, now glowing softly at my core.
Jackson led us to a room at the end of the hallway with a white, windowless door. He didn’t knock, he simply twisted the door handle and pushed the door open.
“After you,” he said to me, gesturing for me to go inside.
I took a deep breath and did just that.
CHAPTERFOUR
Inside,a man was seated at a large white desk that held a computer monitor, a keyboard, and a stack of file folders. He was fiftyish, with fine features, and dark hair that was salt-and-pepper at the temples. Wire-framed glasses perched on his nose. Combined with the white coat and the stethoscope that hung around his neck, my first impression was that he looked like a doctor who’d graduated top of his class.
This was a good first impression.
“Jackson,” the man exclaimed. “You’ve arrived.”
“As promised,” Jackson confirmed. “Dr. Victor Reynolds, this is Jillian Conrad and Declan Reyes.”
Dr. Reynolds stood up from his desk and came to face us. He pushed his glasses up with his index finger before he slowly scanned Declan from leather boots to eyepatch, his expression tense. Then he reached his hand out in greeting, and Declan hesitated only a moment before shaking it.
“Carson Reyes’s son,” he said.
Declan nodded stiffly. “That’s right,” he replied.
“I know how very painful it is to lose someone you love in such a violent and unexpected manner, Mr. Reyes. My condolences.”
Declan nodded stiffly. “Thank you.”
The doctor extended his hand to me. “Miss Conrad.”
“Dr. Reynolds,” I replied, shaking his hand. “Please, call me Jill.”
“Very well, Jill.” He didn’t let go of my hand, instead turning it over to inspect my palm, my fingernails, and my wrist. “Fascinating.”
I couldn’t help but laugh nervously. “Is it?”
