had risen in her throat, sweat popped out on her forehead and neck, and her hand froze in mid-motion.
He’d been watching her thrash herself. “I couldn’t use my pyrokinesis on that guy,” he said. “Now I know why. He’s got powers like us.”
“You told whoever you were talking to that he wasn’t an Offspring. You said something about that when I projected to you, too. What’s an Offspring?”
“You. Me. Do you know anything about your history? About why either your mom or your dad died when you were a baby?”
“I only know I inherited my paranormal ability from my mother.” Hadn’t Westerfield asked if she knew anything else? Insinuating that there was something else.
“Did Darkwell tell you how he knew your mother?”
She sat down, facing Eric. It felt intimate somehow, but she pushed that thought away. He knew things, things she needed to know. “Just that he’d read about her ability in some report. I wanted to see it, but he pretty much blew me off, promising he’d try to find it but never doing it.”
He held up his finger. “Lie number one. He recruited your mother and several others, including my mother, to join a program called BLUE EYES back in the eighties. He gave our parents something that boosted their abilities, and he used them to kill people. Only that substance made them go crazy. And that made the project one big fat liability, so it was shut down and covered up. How did your mother die?”
It was none of his business, that’s what she wanted to say. “She killed herself.”
“Lie two.” He held up a second finger, and his certainty shifted something inside her. “They killed her. Darkwell couldn’t afford to have anyone start questioning why the people in his program had become unstable.”
She could barely push out the words, “Darkwell killed her?” She hadn’t committed suicide? Hadn’t abandoned her?
“He denied it, and in that I think he was telling the truth. There were two men behind the program. We thought the other one was Sam Robbins, but he wasn’t”—he raised his eyebrow at her—“ruthless enough. So maybe someone behind Darkwell, a silent partner. Maybe the guy who’s after us now.”
She’d unconsciously moved closer to him, wanting to soak in his words about her mother. “That guy killed my mom?”
He shrugged. “It’s possible. We’re the offspring of the people in the program. We inherited the supercharged ability. And we inherited the possibility of going crazy, too, if we use our abilities too much.” He leaned back. “How did it feel, having someone gunning for you without even knowing why?”
“Awful.”
He nodded. “That’s how I felt, before I knew what I know now. Someone hunting me down because I’m a liability. How did it feel that he could get inside you? That it was so hard to fight, you thought you were going to die?”
She frowned. “The worst—one of the worst things I’ve ever felt.”
“Now you know how I felt when your boyfriend was screwing around in my friggin’ head, trying to make me do things I didn’t want to do.” His words were like a slap in the face.
She pushed to her feet and turned away. Eric was the enemy, not the victim. “What about this substance you mentioned?”
He stood, though she saw how tired he was. He reached up and held onto a loop of rope hanging from the ceiling beam, flexing his biceps in the process. “We just found out it was some kind of alien DNA. We inherited that, too.”
He liked the shock and revulsion on her expression; she could tell by his smug smile. “That’s plain freaky.”
He shrugged. “Yeah, but it opens up possibilities. Who are our ancestors? What else can we do? Look at what that guy can do. He must be infected with the same stuff.”
She shot him a look. Was he making this up? No, he was excited about the alien DNA.
She looked at her hand. What she expected to see that she hadn’t already noticed, she didn’t know. As though just knowing
He’d been watching her thrash herself. “I couldn’t use my pyrokinesis on that guy,” he said. “Now I know why. He’s got powers like us.”
“You told whoever you were talking to that he wasn’t an Offspring. You said something about that when I projected to you, too. What’s an Offspring?”
“You. Me. Do you know anything about your history? About why either your mom or your dad died when you were a baby?”
“I only know I inherited my paranormal ability from my mother.” Hadn’t Westerfield asked if she knew anything else? Insinuating that there was something else.
“Did Darkwell tell you how he knew your mother?”
She sat down, facing Eric. It felt intimate somehow, but she pushed that thought away. He knew things, things she needed to know. “Just that he’d read about her ability in some report. I wanted to see it, but he pretty much blew me off, promising he’d try to find it but never doing it.”
He held up his finger. “Lie number one. He recruited your mother and several others, including my mother, to join a program called BLUE EYES back in the eighties. He gave our parents something that boosted their abilities, and he used them to kill people. Only that substance made them go crazy. And that made the project one big fat liability, so it was shut down and covered up. How did your mother die?”
It was none of his business, that’s what she wanted to say. “She killed herself.”
“Lie two.” He held up a second finger, and his certainty shifted something inside her. “They killed her. Darkwell couldn’t afford to have anyone start questioning why the people in his program had become unstable.”
She could barely push out the words, “Darkwell killed her?” She hadn’t committed suicide? Hadn’t abandoned her?
“He denied it, and in that I think he was telling the truth. There were two men behind the program. We thought the other one was Sam Robbins, but he wasn’t”—he raised his eyebrow at her—“ruthless enough. So maybe someone behind Darkwell, a silent partner. Maybe the guy who’s after us now.”
She’d unconsciously moved closer to him, wanting to soak in his words about her mother. “That guy killed my mom?”
He shrugged. “It’s possible. We’re the offspring of the people in the program. We inherited the supercharged ability. And we inherited the possibility of going crazy, too, if we use our abilities too much.” He leaned back. “How did it feel, having someone gunning for you without even knowing why?”
“Awful.”
He nodded. “That’s how I felt, before I knew what I know now. Someone hunting me down because I’m a liability. How did it feel that he could get inside you? That it was so hard to fight, you thought you were going to die?”
She frowned. “The worst—one of the worst things I’ve ever felt.”
“Now you know how I felt when your boyfriend was screwing around in my friggin’ head, trying to make me do things I didn’t want to do.” His words were like a slap in the face.
She pushed to her feet and turned away. Eric was the enemy, not the victim. “What about this substance you mentioned?”
He stood, though she saw how tired he was. He reached up and held onto a loop of rope hanging from the ceiling beam, flexing his biceps in the process. “We just found out it was some kind of alien DNA. We inherited that, too.”
He liked the shock and revulsion on her expression; she could tell by his smug smile. “That’s plain freaky.”
He shrugged. “Yeah, but it opens up possibilities. Who are our ancestors? What else can we do? Look at what that guy can do. He must be infected with the same stuff.”
She shot him a look. Was he making this up? No, he was excited about the alien DNA.
She looked at her hand. What she expected to see that she hadn’t already noticed, she didn’t know. As though just knowing
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