Read Stolen for Free Online Page B

earlier. I didn’t consider how…disoriented you must have been.”
Julia stared at his extended hand, but didn’t take it. “Does that mean you believe me about Cayne?”
Nathan sighed and rubbed his face.
“You’re wrong about him,” she said.
“I know you think so.”
“I know so.”
Nathan seemed constantly at the edge of a frustrated fit, and Julia found herself agreeing, a little bit , with Meredith: It was fun to see him worked up.
He made an obvious effort to control himself, and after a deep breath, said: “Dinner. I’d like to show you the way to our dining hall.”
Julia considered, and ultimately decided there was nothing lost in not being hungry. “After you,” she mock bowed, and Nathan turned on his heel, like an old English butler.
His cult uniform stretched over his shoulders as he moved, and his pants showed the mold of his butt, which was, astonishingly, kind of cute. Oh no no no . Julia squeezed her eyes shut, then scampered after him. “Cayne. I want to see him. Would that really be so hard to arrange?”
“Tomorrow.” Nathan said. “I’ll take you to see him tomorrow—if you’re cooperative.”
“What am I, your hostage?”
Nathan’s eyes narrowed. “You’re on our turf now.” When she didn’t say anything, he added, “Our rules.”
“I got it.” Julia wondered if he realized how toolish he sounded. “I bet you were class president.”
“Class what?”
“President.” Nathan didn’t say anything, but Julia got the impression that— “Did you not go to school?!”
Nathan’s expression hardened, and to her shock, Julia realized she was right. “It’s okay if—”
“I went to school.” There was a little pause, like maybe he would tell her more, but then he said, “Enough questions.” He hunched his shoulders ever so slightly and lengthened his stride. Julia sensed, more than saw, his aura flickering.
She followed behind him, surprised at how awkward she felt. Shepherd or not, Nathan was (apparently) not as unflappable as he had at first seemed, which was weird.
Silence hung between them like a big gray curtain. Their identical shoes made identical smooshing sounds against the stone floor.
The dining hall was only a few minutes’ walk down one of the hall-tunnels, and Julia thought it looked a heck of a lot like a regular ole cafeteria. Nathan led her to a small, round table filled with the kind of people Julia had sat near in the high school cafeteria. As Nathan introduced them, she felt a soothing rush of ease. At least she’d never sit alone here.
First to stick out his hand was Bobby Claymore, a round-faced boy a few years younger than Julia; he had stringy, cheek-length hair that was neither brown nor blond. There were two brown beaded necklaces peeking out the collar of his gray shirt. Thierry Dalon greeted her with a French accent and actually kissed her hand. He wore the same drab clothes as everyone else, but with his frizzy brown hair and easygoing manner, he somehow made them look a little cool. Randy Quillian —ooh, she’d heard of latté -smuggling Randy—had a silver nose ring and white-blond hair cut into a Mohawk-ish shape. He hunched over a thick book, cradling it in his thin hands. When he shook her hand, his eyes shone with an intensity that reminded her of…well, someone very intense.
Franklin Crist spoke with an accent Julia didn’t recognize and had a weak and clammy handshake. He hardly looked up from his notepad to say, “hello and welcome.” And then there was Monte Bellfast . He was the friendliest at the table—or maybe it was best described as most at ease. He gave Julia a nod rather than shaking her hand, and said, “Welcome.” With his smooth chocolate skin and his easy smile, he reminded her a lot of Dirk (and Dwight).
Franklin, who was short and round and had chipmunk cheeks, moved to pull up a chair, but before he could drag it over, Julia heard Meredith’s voice.
“Jules! Jules! Over here!”
And it was weird, Julia