by Sophie Davis
“I am glad to see the retrieval went well,” he commented, his fingers twitching at his sides as he longed to touch Alexander.
Without thinking, I turned my body slightly, putting myself between Mac and his grandson. “If you consider a casualty a success, then yes, I guess it went well,” I snapped. Several of Graham’s men shifted uncomfortably at my harsh retort.
“It’s always a risk,” Mac said smoothly, refusing to engage.
Erik stepped forward and put a warning hand on my back. “The boy is scared, Director. I suggest he stay with Talia until you move him to the school,” he said stiffly.
“Ms. Choi is more experienced with children. She will take the boy until tomorrow,” Mac declared, nodding for Cadence to relieve me of my responsibility.
Reluctantly, I let her take him and this time, Alex didn’t put up a fight.
“Byrnes, Kelley, with me. I want a full report. Natalia, go get cleaned up, but do not go anywhere until I have a chance to hear your report,” Mac continued.
I wanted to protest. I wanted to be there to control whatever Erik and Graham told him. But Erik’s hard stare told me to keep my mouth shut.
“Just go to your room and wait for me there,” Erik sent.
“We have to do something, Erik. We can’t let them take him,” I pleaded again.
“We won’t. Just wait for me in your room. I’ll be there as soon as I’m done,” he sent back, already following Mac and Graham to the elevator.
“Don’t worry, Talia. I’ll make sure he’s okay,” Cadence said kindly.
“Thanks,” I mumbled. “Will he be in your room, like if I wanted to come see him…?” I let my voice trail off with the question.
“Of course. Why don’t you come see us once you get cleaned up and we’re settled in,” she offered with a small smile.
Alex reached one of his small hands blindly towards the sound of my voice. I intertwined my fingers, still covered in his mother’s blood, with his and squeezed gently, reassuring him that I would come for him. Then I boarded the elevator to my room, dreading what I knew I had to do next.
Donavon answered on the first ring.
“I was wondering when I’d hear from you.” His holographic image smiled at me from the communicator.
My heart broke. As much as I wanted to be mad at him, wanted to hate him, for keeping such a monumental secret from me, I couldn’t. What I was about to tell him would crush him and I hated hurting him more than I already had. But I also had to warn him. I just hoped he had his own contingency plan.
“It’s been crazy here,” I replied quietly.
“Yeah, those Aptitude Tests are hectic,” he agreed.
“It’s not just the testing,” I began, readying myself to launch into the carefully prepared speech I’d scripted on the way to my room. “Your father sent me as part of a retrieval team to collect a child he believed was being purposely hidden from Toxic.” I tried to gauge Donavon’s reaction in the hazy image projecting from my communicator.
“I see,” Donavon said thickly.
“The boy was in Howard’s Knob, a small town in North Carolina,” I continued. “And the mission went badly.” I closed my eyes, fighting the tears back and trying to keep my voice even.
“How bad?” Donavon asked tersely.
“The mother was killed when she put up a fight,” I replied.
Donavon gasped. I wanted to tell him the truth about how Kandice had died, but I knew this conversation would be monitored; I needed my version of events to match the official one.
“The boy, Alexander,” I emphasized his name in case there was any doubt in Donavon’s mind why I’d called him now, “is okay. He’s here at the hotel, with Cadence. I’m going to see him again in a little. I just called because I wanted to talk to you. The whole thing was a nightmare.”
“I’m so sorry, Tal,” he choked back a sob and my chest ached for him. “I never meant for you to –” he started to say, but I cut him off before he said something he might regret.
“It’s okay, Donavon. I’m worried about the kid. He’s so scared,” I whispered, unable to hold the tears back any longer.
“Has Alex said anything?” Donavon asked.
“Not yet,” I breathed back.
“Tal, I......I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Donavon’s voice was muffled as he tried to conceal his tears.
“I have to go,” I said hurriedly. “I just needed to hear your voice.”
“Thanks, Tal,” he whispered.
I slammed the disconnect button. I jumped off my bed and ran into the bathroom. I turned the water in the shower as hot as it would go, tearing my clothes off in the process. Then I collapsed on the shower floor in a ball, my head resting against the cold tiles and sobbed. I cried for Alex and what his life would be like if I couldn’t rescue him. I cried for Donavon and the pain and fear he must be feeling, knowing all his efforts had been wasted. I cried for Kandice and the awful, unfair way she’d lost her life. And I cried for myself, for all I had lost - my parents, my sense of self, my innocence.
Long after the shower water turned cold, I sat ridding myself of the ugliness that had been building inside of me for months, maybe even years. Kandice’s coldblooded murder reminded me too much of my parents. All this time, I believed in what the Agency stood for, thought that it was worth fighting for, but now I knew that we were no better than the men that had killed my family. Erik had tried to tell me, but not until I’d seen the atrocities our men were capable of doing did I understand completely. I couldn’t believe I’d been so blind.
Sitting on my bed, wrapped in my Hamilton bathrobe, I weighed my options. If I took Alex and made a run for it, where would I go? Would I even make it out of the city before Toxic caught me? And how would I take care of him if we did manage to make it out? I was so reliant on Mac and the Agency that I had no idea how to survive on my own.
On the one hand, the Agency had taught me to survive. I knew basic first aid, how to defend myself, and even how to kill. On the other hand, ever since I was ten, Toxic had provided me with everything I needed. I didn’t even have my own money. Mac paid for everything I owned. I was trained to hunt people, not animals for food. Hell, I didn’t even know how to cook if I did manage to kill something to eat. In my entire life, I’d never felt so lost or helpless.
A knock at my door sent a ripple of panic through me. If it were Mac, I wouldn’t be able to control my temper, to pretend as if everything was okay. I reached out and realized, with tremendous relief that it was Erik. Mentally, I unlocked the door, easing it open as an invitation.
“Hey,” he called tentatively, poking his dark head through.
I offered him a weak smile in return, but couldn’t find the strength to respond verbally.
“The Director wanted me to let you know he doesn’t need your report, after all. Between mine and Graham’s, he is satisfied,” Erik said, crossing the room and joining me on my bed.
I nodded, relieved. The longer I could put off facing Mac, the better.
“Why don’t you lie down for a while and try and get some rest,” Erik suggested pushing back a stray piece of wet hair clinging to my forehead.
“We have to meet Anya soon. Besides, I want to go see Alex, make sure he is okay,” I sent.
“Are you sure you’re up for going? I can go talk to her by myself,” Erik offered, rubbing the back of his rough hand across my cheek.
I closed my eyes and breathed in his scent, leaning against his shoulder. “I want to go. Whatever she found out is about me. I need to know,” I insisted.
Erik wrapped one arm around me and pulled me against his chest. “I figured you’d say that. I have some stuff to take care of. At least try and rest. You’re going to need your strength later.”
“Do you have a plan?” I asked, playing with one of the buttons on his shirt for lack of something better to do with my hands.
“Not yet, but I will. The Director said they won’t move Alex to the school until th
e morning. I’ll come up with something by then,” Erik promised.
“Why are you willing to help him? You hate Donavon,” I pointed out. The two boys had never been on good terms and the situation with me had only exacerbated the already tenuous relationship.
“I’m beginning to think I might’ve misjudged him. The guy has been going through a lot. And besides, I kinda owe him,” Erik said.
“Owe him?”
“He did keep my letter to himself. He could have handed it over to his father, gotten me in a lot of trouble, but he didn’t. And I always knew there was something off about Toxic, but it’s obviously worse than I imagined. I want you and Alex to be safe,” Erik replied.
“What about your family? If you help us, won’t Mac do something to them?” I knew what Erik was risking and I couldn’t let him do that for me.
“I’m working on it,” he said evasively.
I didn’t push. Whatever he was working on, he didn’t want to share and I doubted I wanted to hear it just then; I’d had more than my share of surprises for the day. I was likely in store for at least one more when we finally met up with Anya.
“You rest. I’ll come get you when it’s time to go.”
Erik got up and pulled the covers down, prompting me to crawl under. I hadn’t realized how truly exhausted I was until my head was nestled in the pillow. Erik kissed me lightly on the forehead before turning to leave.
“Erik?” I called, just as he set one foot through the open doorway.
He turned to look at me, his face drawn and anxious. He was bearing the weight of my stress in addition to his own.
“I love you,” I sent.
“I know, Tals. I love you, too.”
As promised, Erik returned half an hour before we were due to meet Anya. He was agitated and distracted by the worries swirling in his head. Neither of us spoke much as we made the same trek across town that we had nearly a week before. Erik’s mind was carefully barricaded. For once, I was immensely grateful. I hated how uneasy he was, but my control was near the breaking point and having his thoughts mingling with my own wouldn’t help.
When we arrived, the food court was only half-full and few of the diners paid us any attention. Anya was easy to spot, her dark hair shining like a beacon from the back corner of the room. Her hair was still shiny and perfect and her pretty pink sundress fit like a glove, but her face was drawn and her smile was strained when she greeted us. Suddenly, I wasn’t so eager to hear what she’d found. The bothered look in her emerald eyes filled me with a sense of a foreboding. Whatever she had to report, I wasn’t going to like.
Anya stood from the round plastic table that she’d claimed, her salad untouched in front of her, and hugged Erik. I was so anxious and unsettled, I didn’t even have to suppress the urge to hit her this time. Then, to my surprise, she wrapped her thin arms around me. I awkwardly returned her embrace. Once Erik and I were seated, Anya wasted no time with pleasantries.
“I ran your blood,” she began slowly, fixing me with her dazzling eyes.
“And?” I prompted her, hoping she would reassure me that I wasn’t diseased in some way.
Erik grabbed my hand and nearly crushed it in his own.
“Well, I’m not sure what it means,” she warned as a disclaimer. “But, well, I found a couple abnormalities.”
This was unsurprising since obviously, I’d been poisoned. I knew there was something abnormal in my system. I urged her on with my eyes.
“I found two Talent Signatures in your blood,” she continued, gauging my reaction for some understanding as to what she was talking about.
I had no clue what that meant. Mac had given me a brief rundown on what a Talent Signature was, but I was still unclear on how they worked or whether having two was good or bad. I shook my head to indicate she needed to explain.
“Every Talent has a Talent Signature unique to them. No two are supposed to be alike. Having two is rare,” she continued.
“Rare?” Erik repeated. “So, some Talents do, then?”
“Dual Talents would, right?” I cut in, thinking about Kenly and what Erik had said after we tested Ingrid the telepath.
“Exactly. A dual Talent has two distinct signatures, both specific to them. What’s odd about yours is they aren’t.”
“What?!” I exclaimed. “What do you mean mine aren’t specific to me? Are they specific to someone else?”
Erik sent me calming vibes. I took a couple deep breaths to regain my composure. My hysterics wouldn’t make the situation any better, likely much worse.
“Well, one of your signatures is unique to you. When I analyzed it, I was able to tell you are a Mental Manipulator with telekinetic powers and some control over the elements. Does that sound right?” she asked calmly, her eyes darting between me and Erik.
I wondered whether she understood the mental messages passing back and forth.
“Yeah, she can do all that,” Erik answered for me.
My own mouth was still gaping from her statement about the two Talent Signatures. I was clearly a couple paces behind the two of them.
“The second signature is a generic one,” she continued. “When I analyzed it, I found the signature is a generic morphing signature.” Anya uneasily fixed me with a wan expression.
A Morphing Signature? That was impossible; I’d never been able to morph. And when I’d taken my Placement Testing, there was no indication that I had the ability to morph, even at a very low level. I stared at her dumbfounded, unable to speak because I had no idea what to say. I looked to Erik and was alarmed to find relief and understanding written on his face.
Did he know something that he wasn’t telling me? Surely, if I had the ability to morph, then Erik would know. He would be able to mimic the power. Yet, if he’d known this whole time, why hadn’t he said something? Or had he? This was what he’d been debating telling me that day in the hotel room, I realized. He’d even suggested that I was a dual Talent. That being shot somehow caused the second Talent to emerge.
“I can’t morph,” I told Anya, because I couldn’t. No matter what Erik thought or what my blood indicated, that fact still remained.
“You would be able to if you weren’t taking that suppressant,” Anya replied evenly.
I sat back in my chair, letting the weight of her words sink in. If what she was saying was true, and I kind of thought it might be, then a couple of things that had happened to me over the past year made a lot more sense.
Morphers had extremely heightened senses. Mine had always been good because of the sensory perception exercises Mac made me do, but not like they were lately. Even Erik had noticed how much better my eyesight and hearing had been since my return from Nevada. The night I confronted Penny, I swore my nails turned to claws and that my teeth sharpened, but when I had tried to explain that to Dr. Wythe, he’d said I was confused and delusional. I hadn’t taken my medicine that evening in my haste to find Penny, which was probably why I’d partially morphed. Partially morphed. I repeated the words over and over in my head, trying to get used to the idea.
When I’d sparred with Erik earlier in the week, I’d beaten him for the first time ever. He swore he hadn’t let me win. At the time, I’d thought he was just trying to make me feel good, but now I doubted that was true. Morphers typically have a strength that’s hard to compete with in a fight, and seeing as I was already close to Erik’s exceptional skill, the combination would be unbeatable.
This new development even explained my ridiculous mood swings and excessive reactions to certain situations. Not that I wasn’t prone to out-of-control responses to stress, but lately, I’d been more irrational than usual. Donavon once explained that Morphers feel things more intensely than others. Most learn to control their reactions when they’re young; they have to if they want to have any friends. Someone just learning to deal with her new emotions wouldn’t be able to handle her new impulses, though. Even my physical reactions to Erik’s touch were more visceral than before. I’d
practically begged him to have sex with me more than once. My cheeks flamed at the memory.
When I looked at Erik, I knew that he, too, was remembering some of the same events I was. Understanding lit up turquoise eyes. There was something I still couldn’t comprehend.
“Why would Mac want to suppress that?” I looked at Anya, hoping that she’d have a good explanation. Then, another question occurred to me. “Why would Crane want me to be able to morph? I mean, why would he have injected me with something that would make me stronger? I didn’t even know that was possible.” I looked back and forth between Erik and Anya. They seemed to be having a silent conversation. Both had worked out the conundrum I was still trying to process. My temper flared when I realized that I was the only one not in on the secret.
“What?!?” I demanded, yanking my hand free from Erik’s and sitting forward in my chair.
Erik rubbed my back, trying to calm me. I wanted to swat his patronizing hand away, but I refrained when I realized that I was succumbing to my heightened emotions. You’re stronger than this, I commanded myself.
“I don’t think the Coalition was the one who injected you with whatever it is that gave you the ability to morph,” Anya said slowly, looking a little fearful at my display of uncalled for rage. “You received several blood transfusions after you were shot?”
“Yes,” I confirmed, comprehension dawning on me.
“One of them was of unfiltered blood, right?” she continued quietly.
“Yes,” I said tightly. So, Donavon’s blood had made me sick.
“I believe it was that transfusion that is giving you ‘seizures’,” she confirmed my thoughts. “Except they aren’t exactly seizures. Your body is trying to morph. It’s a natural instinct and it wants to act on it, but it can’t because of the suppressant. You are strong, though, and your system is fighting the suppressant, so sometimes, you start to morph, but can’t and that is when you have these ‘seizures’ or whatever,” she explained.
