THE PERFECT TEN (Boxed Set)

ankle. “What is that ring on your leg called?”
    I shrugged, trying to come up with a bland description that didn’t scream criminal.
    Unfortunately, Tony decided to help me out. “It’s an electronic monitoring device.” At the blank looks, he added, “You know. Remote surveillance via an electronic device attached to a person or vehicle.” He winked at me. “That way their whereabouts can be monitored using GPS which reports their position via a cell phone network back to a control center.” 
    “To control a prisoner?” Zilya offered.
    Thanks, Tony. Why not tell them I was suspected of theft and destruction while you’re at it?
    Tony swallowed and avoided looking at me. “No, it’s a tracking device.” He let out a dark chuckle. “But this place is kryptonite for technology.”
    “You think this is funny?” Zilya demanded, a frown creasing her face.
    Tony raised his bound hands. “It was a joke, sister. Just a joke.” 
    Her frown deepened. If I had dug a pit for myself, Tony threatened to turn it into a bottomless hole. But before I could kick him into silence Zilya spoke to Mathias. “They do not dress as us so they could be high-ranking tek-nah-tee. They may wear strange uniforms thinking to confuse or trick us.”
    Now we were being judged by what we wore? “What do our clothes have to do with anything? We’re not tek-nah-tees, whatever they are. We’re here by accident.” I hoped to distance myself, Tony and Gabby from whatever had killed children and the brother of somebody in this room. I felt certain the person those two boys had referenced as losing a brother was part of this discussion. Mathias or Callan?
    I also wanted to alert Tony and Gabby that being a tek-nah-tee was not a positive point, and even worse that Zilya inferred we might be high-ranking.
    Callan’s penetrating gaze cut across the room to me with the precision of a honed knife and held the warmth of an ice storm. “Does SEOH think us so stupid as to believe this ruse? To send a bunch of vid players in here to pretend to be what you’re not? To what purpose?”
    I lifted my hands, palms out, and shook my head. “I would love to know what someone in this place was talking about. I don’t know what CO is. What does C and O stand for?”
    Zilya’s glower suggested she addressed a moron. “Is this the part in your script where I spell S-E-O-H and explain who that monster is? So sincere sounding. Save your effort for when you stand in front of a recorder again, vid player.” 
    “I’m not a player or a vid whatever.”  Wait, had she said a vid ? I did know what a vid was–the short version of video–and that players performed in them. At last, a reference point for things that were coming back to me in bits and pieces.
    “A great loss to young tek-nah-tee males, no doubt,” Zilya sneered, then paused and said louder, “Our houses do not allow vids or fictitious tales shared. We are immune to your training.”
    Gabby piped up, saying, “Sounds like a boring-ass house to grow up in, if you ask me.”
    Zilya scrutinized Gabby. After studying her closely, Zilya paused then her eyes flared with disbelief. “What house are you from?”
    Why did she say house as if it was more than a dwelling?
    Gabby gave a wry laugh, letting everyone know she found Zilya’s question absurd. “This month? I’m stuck in a dorm room. No house, thanks to dear old dad.”
    Based upon Zilya’s blistering scowl, that had been the wrong answer. “They think everything is funny, Mathias. Shall we see how much they laugh when they face death?”
    His drawn-out sigh spoke of lost patience.
    I doubted his could equal mine, but I was making no headway with the current conversation. Time for a different approach. “This is the truth. We don’t know where we are or how we got here. If you can tell us how to get back, we’ll be on our way.”
    Zilya started to speak, but fell silent when Mathias raised his hand.  “We will not release you to report back to SEOH.”
    Gabby muttered low, but not low enough. “What exactly are you accusing us of?”
    Zilya’s attention returned to Gabby in a way that sent spikes of worry running along my spine, especially when Zilya demanded, “Look at me.”
    Gabby straightened her spine and leaned forward, only her eyes defying Zilya. “Get your fill.”
    “Your eyes do not match.”
    Irritation rushed out with Gabby’s next breath. “Yeah, well. Some of us must rise above the