Conduit by M J Marlow (books to get back into reading .TXT) 📕

dropped down next to Jonas. His twin, Jason, was on the other landing on the left side of the building. Jonas nodded and I saw the three people who had been shadowing me approaching. They stopped just shy of the building and we moved into the shadows where they would not spot us. “I sent the rest of the kids to Gramps,” I told Jonas as we watched them. “He is taking us all in, Jonas; so don’t give him any trouble.” He nodded and we watched the three strangers. They were talking about me and I was angry. They had threatened my family because they wanted to take me away. Why hadn’t they just walked up to me and talked? Why all this sneaking around? I felt a shiver run up my spine and knew these people meant harm. It was the only explanation for this subterfuge. I leaned down so I could hear them more clearly. “This is the princess we were sent to find?” the leader of the team, Henri’s grad student, frowned. “She’s living in an abandoned building like a rat.” “Given what we’ve learned of her history in the foster homes they sent her to,” his shorter companion shrugged, “this is an improvement.” “She’s a common criminal,” the third member of the team, and only female, sniffed. “How can we bring such a creature to the Professor? He won’t believe she is this ‘princess’ he sent us after.” I listened to them and frowned. Strangers meant threat of discovery and a change of home. It had happened many times over the past two years, and our family was quite used to it now. The younger members were on their way to safety so it was just the twins and I now. What did they mean ‘princess’? And who was this ‘professor’ they mentioned. I looked over at the older twin, Jonas, and he made the crazy sign. That made it worse. We could deal with sane people. They usually came looking so they could ‘help’ us; and this meant the ones they could catch ended back up in the foster care system. At least as long as it took for us to find them and bring them home again. But these people did not work for child welfare. They were here for me. “We should wait until she comes out again,” the shorter male said softly. He was looking up the front of the building and we backed into the shadows. “I have a feeling she is not alone here.” “She was not shopping for herself,” the leader nodded. He was frowning as he thought over the request. “We have no time. We need to bring her with us by the end of the month.” “That’s only three weeks, Justin,” the female protested. “Why the rush?” “Because, Henry, Karen,” the one called Justin replied, “that is what the Professor wants. He said there was a festival coming up that the Abbott wished us to use as our starting point for the trek into the valley.” I couldn’t let them into the sanctuary. So I dropped down off the fire escape and rose to my full height of 5’5 to glare at them. The one called Justin was nearly a foot taller than me, but I did not let this frighten me. They were the intruders here. They were the ones who did not belong. I looked at the other two and dismissed them as unimportant. The twins would keep watch on them for me. It was the giant who was in charge here; he was the one who had to be convinced to leave me alone. “You are not welcome here,” I said simply. “We have come to extend an invitation to you from our employer, Dulcinea,” Justin said simply. He was intrigued. This dark-haired, dark-eyed child was fearless. She stood there in front of him, daring him to do something. He caught sight of the two teenaged boys on the fire escape nearby. “We are not going to hurt you, child.” “You want to take me away from my place,” I shot back at him. “How is that not ‘hurt’?” I moved as the other male stepped closer and hissed at him. “No one touches me!” The twins dropped down to back me up. At 18, they still had time to grow, but they were already well over six feet tall. I saw the newcomers back up a bit as they took in the stern-faced red-haired boys and my confidence returned. “You are not welcome here,” I repeated. “If we see you here again, we will make you hurt.” “My God!” Henry exclaimed as I turned on my heel and entered the building with the twins. I sent the twins to catch up with the others and moved to a place where I could listen and watch. “She is a princess!” “She is just a terrified child,” Karen corrected him, “looking to protect herself and the others with her from the world she has been taught exists.” She was pulling out the phone when they heard sirens approaching “Perfect timing.” “You’re a real bitch, Karen,” Henry smiled as they moved off to watch. “She’s not coming out voluntarily,” Karen shrugged, “and our time is limited. So we let the experts do the dirty work for us.” She patted her purse. “I have all the paperwork proving the girl is my ‘cousin’ all ready. Professor Boussard already contacted a judge who named me as her guardian.” “He knew something like this might happen?” “You know the Professor,” Justin smiled. “He never leaves anything to chance.” He could hear the sirens coming closer and they found a place near the door. “There she is,” he hissed as I came out the front to see what was happening. He grabbed me and pulled me back, his hand over my mouth to keep me from crying out. “Don’t fight, child. This is for the best.” Two cars squealed up to the nearby curb and men in dark suits ran into the building. I struggled to free myself. They were here for me as well; the truth of that sang into my mind. Why was I suddenly so popular? I had spent the past thirteen years of my life falling through the cracks in the foster care system. Now I had two groups of people, with very different agendas, looking for me. I didn’t want to be with either. I sent Justin flying and fell as something struck me over the back of the head. I collapsed to my knees, shaking my head at being taken down so easily. The twins would be horrified. “Geez, Karen,” the other man exclaimed as he helped me to my feet. “Did you have to hit her so hard?” “I’d have hit her harder,” Karen replied coolly, “but we were told to bring her to them undamaged.” I found myself being taken to a car nearby and my rescuer took his hand off of my arm for a moment to open the door and I was gone. I ran down the block and ducked into an alley, pausing only a second to catch my breath. I could hear him yelling my name and I laughed as I ran off. Such an idiot! Did he really think I was just going to go along with his plans? I knew what kind of ‘invitation’ a stranger would extend to a 17 year old girl and I was not going to let that happen to me. I had people counting on me and I was not going to abandon them. I doubled back into the building and retrieved the emergency fund, nearly three hundred dollars I could use to afford bus fare somewhere. I called Gramps and asked him what I should do and he begged me to come to him. But I couldn’t let them follow me to the others; they might threaten the children to make me obey them. “Damn.” “She’s not coming in, is she?” Jason asked as he and his twin sat near the windows of the Judge’s home office. “Of course she isn’t,” Jonas replied. “Dulcie thinks we’re safe. She doesn’t want to jeopardize us.” “She’s too young to be out there on her own,” Jason protested. “She’s too little to fight off the bastards who would come after her.” “Dulcie can handle herself just fine,” Jonas sniffed. “We taught her everything we know, bro. No one is going to get the drop on her.” “Pray to God,” Gramps prayed as he typed my name into the computer while he listened to the twins argue. “Why don’t you two go see how dinner is going?” “Those kids really care about each other,” Jeanne shook her head as the boys left. She closed the door at the familiar look on her father’s face. “Something new?” “Some woman appeared out of nowhere to claim the girl as her relative. I was under the impression that Dulcie had no living relatives, David,” he said to his investigator and son-in-law standing in the doorway of the connecting room; “so we have to add Karen Whiting to your list of people to investigate.” “Why would anyone kidnap that child?” Jeanne asked as she sank down in one of the armchairs in front of the desk. “She doesn’t have a family to extort money out of.” Her eyes widened as her father frowned. “No!” She was back on her feet, shaking her head. “Not her, Dad!” “Not if I can prevent it,” Gramps replied. His fingers were dancing on the keyboard as he shot an email to Child Welfare on behalf of Dulcie. He asked them to send the people who had taken Karen’s documents at face value to bring the file to his home office. And only when he had gone through every channel he could think of did he call the police. “My ward, Dulcinea “Dulcie” Santos is lost,” he said simply. “She is being stalked and is too frightened to come home. She thinks these people will hurt us if she does. I want her back home with me where I know she is safe.” He sent a photo of me over the email. “I’ve just emailed you her latest photo.” He nodded and smiled briefly. “Yes, Commissioner,” he frowned at the man’s comment. “She is a very pretty girl. Find her for me.” His frown deepened. “Are you certain? By all means, then,” he said as he looked stricken, “take her there. I’ll check up with the man myself.” He hung up and put his head in his hands. “Damn!” “What is it, Dad?” “It would appear that Dulcie does have living relatives,” he told his daughter and her husband. He went to pour himself a whiskey. “Her grandfather is Prince Antonio Rivero Santos, a high ranking Spanish official. Dulcie’s father was his son.” “Her father wasn’t American?” Jason frowned. “Apparently,” Gramps stated, “only her mother was. They were in America as graduate students when they were murdered. Dulcie was four years old at the time.” “Why didn’t he claim her?” Jeanne asked him bluntly. “When he knew his son was dead; why didn’t he come for his granddaughter?” “Apparently,” Gramps frowned, “they were estranged. Prince Rivero Santos has not spoken to his son in almost ten years. He did not even know he had a daughter-in-law, much less a grandchild.” “That’s crap, Judge,” David snapped. “I’ve heard of this man. There is no way he wouldn’t keep tabs on his son despite an estrangement. He let that child disappear.” “Then I’ll have to ask him why,” Gramps nodded. “I am going to make an appointment to see him.” He dialed a number and asked to speak to the Spanish attaché. “My name is Judge Norman Davenport,” he said bluntly. “I am Dulcinea Santos’ guardian.” He heard a soft hiss. Obviously the man had been unaware of this connection. “I would like to