Chameleon (The Domino Project Book 1)

by K. T. Hanna

  The domino rises off one knee, and the others close in formation. There’s a small golden thirty-five embedded in the metal of the adrium on her left-hand shoulder. “He always thought of you as her.”

  Sai takes a step back, shaking her head. “He?”

  Thirty-Five face flashes through colors and steps closer. “Twelve. Always trusts you.”

  Sai shivers, and not from the cold. “What do you want?” she asks, modulating her tone and dismissing Mason with a motion of her hand as he waits to see if she needs his help.

  “We haven’t heard from Twelve in weeks.” She pauses, as if searching for vocabulary, her head cocked to one side. “Sometimes he isn’t there, but then he always is. We’ve been waiting, but he isn’t back. Now there is you.”

  “You’ve been waiting down here?”

  Thirty-Five nods.

  “Waiting for me?”

  “Waiting for Twelve, but he is not here, and you are.” She reaches out a hand, before drawing it back. “We are breaking. Something isn’t right.” Her voice is sad and metallic. The resonance almost makes Sai cry.

  “Go with them,” she says impulsively, pointing to the mass of patients being ushered out. “Help them get out and then we can help you.”

  Thirty-Five nods again. “We help you. You help us. We find Twelve.”

  Sai shakes her head. “I don’t know where he is, but this will help. A lot.”

  Thirty-Five bows her head and moves down the corridor, the others flanking her eerily. As they approach the rest of the group, more dominos filter out of uninhabited hallways. Mason looks up at Sai, startled, and she nods as she brings up the rear.

  “Let them help.” Sai fights the urge to sit down on the floor, and instead leads Aishke with her through the throng of people slowly making their way to the elevators and out to the safety of the tunnels. “I have to make one last trip. Kayde’s tip. Are you okay getting them out?”

  Mason nods, and she knows the escape route is well off-camera. She walks out of the corridor and into the limelight. “Our presentation is almost over. We hope you’re empowered by this little revelation.” She gestures to the guards who’re sitting wide-eyed, trying to loosen their bindings.

  “In a few hours this will be over, and tickets out of here will be on hold.” She lowers her voice. “If this scares you and you no longer want to let lies control you, find one of our patrols, and we’ll take you with us, while you’re able to think for yourself.”

  She reaches up and puts a hand over the camera—the signal for Kayde to cut the transmission, but to keep the grid offline for several more hours—then hurries back the way the others headed. Catching up with Mason, she slows down. He carries an exhausted Aishke easily as he walks.

  “Do you think it worked?” he asks her.

  “I hope so, or Bastian is up the creek.” She runs a blood-caked hand through her dirty hair and sighs. “I have to duck out up ahead a bit. I only have a few hours to scout this out and maybe retrieve some more people.”

  Mason nods. “We’ll be fine.”

  They enter the tunnels from a wider section, and a lean ball of energy barrels into her. “Sai!”

  “Iria.” Sai smiles. “I thought I told you not to come to the front lines.”

  “We’re the retrieval team. That’s not front lines!”

  She glares at the older girl and shrugs. “Fine. Whatever.”

  Sai turns back to Mason as they file through the tunnels. “What’s the news? How’re the reactions?”

  Mason shrugs. “GNW is still scrambling to organize. They’re going to erase that broadcast and hunt it down. With their suggestion grids cast over the entire population, this will fade into the memory they choose.”

  “But Kayde is working on that, right?”

  “She can work more efficiently now. You got the Holy Grail, you know.”

  “What?” She shakes her head, trying to piece together a team in her head.

  “That specially stored Shine you secured. With that, Kayde will be able to produce Ebony much easier, and they’ll never be able to reproduce the pure Shine they need for extraction. That stuff is the original invention.”

  “Surely they have a recipe somewhere?”

  He shakes his head. “Nope, for all the dickish things in the world my grandfather did, he destroyed any other way to recreate the drug before senility completely over took him.”

  Sai feels the color drain from her face. “Your grandfather created that crap?”

  Mason nods, his own expression grave. “It’s not something we’re proud of. You have to remember that GNW was initially a pharmaceutical company, trying to give those affected since the meteors the option so their abilities didn’t change their lives. I know it’s hard to believe, but like many other things, the road to Shine is paved with good intentions.”

  She swallows several times to make sure she doesn’t snap, and decides to change the subject. “Will they get back safely? Have we started getting them to the medic ship? Are Jeffries and Vaneska holding up well enough?”

  Iria laughs. “It’s going better than expected. Almost feels too good to be true. Jeffries still hates you though.”

  “Not surprised.” Something nags at her in the back of her mind. “How’re we schedule-wise?”

  Mason glances at his watch. “Just over three hours in.”

  “Sai.” Kayde’s voice is loud in her ear and makes her jump.

  “Yes,” she snaps back. “Sorry, you startled me.”

  She can hear her laughing. “I should be able to maintain a few more hours of their system. Don’t worry—just get back before the sun compromises my connection and the safety of your team.”

  Sai nods her, forgetting for a moment that she can’t see. “Excellent,” she says instead and hears the connection phase out.

  “Truth be told, Mason, I’d prefer for us to be moving away under the cover of dark in case the light heralds the returning of their brains.” She pauses for a moment, cringing as she asks, “Casualties?”

  “Three,” Iria answers, her tone subdued. “A few dozen are injured, but they’ll be fine. She takes a deep breath and sighs. “We lost a few, including Trikel.”

  Despite only knowing the woman for a short time, her death hurts. Right now, there’s no time for grief. Pushing it aside as they arrive at the exit junction she needs, Sai clears her throat. “Iria, come with me. Mason, can I take the two men you sent in with me today?”

  “You mean Ethan and Panel?”

  “Apparently.”

  “You need to get better with names.” He motions for the men to join them and Sai smiles.

  “Adding it to the list. We’ll see you in a few hours.” As they set off in a steady jog, Sai tries to ignore her unease.

  In the end, Mason sends another man to accompany them. Ethan, Panel, and Deacon. Sai is quite certain the extra protection is for Iria, but given her own limp, she might be kidding herself. She highly doubts anything will come of the visit anyway.

  “Thanks,” Iria says as they exit the tunnel in the outskirts of the city. Her fresh smile falls as she looks around them. “People live here?”

  Sai nods, feeling equally as disgusted. “I used to live like this.” There’s pain in her voice at the memory. Memories of her parents before she collapsed Block 63 make her eyes sting.

  “Oh.” Iria’s voice is softer now, and a faint pink suffuses her mocha skin. “I didn’t realize.”

  Sai concentrates on being careful in this area and ignores Iria’s discomfort. She can hear people off in different directions. Screams here and there, the occasional thud of something falling. The worst sounds are those in the corners of the buildings, in the alleyways they pass. The ones doped up, staring at the ceiling of the city, imagining it to be the most perfect place on earth as their brains melt into some sort of goo that barely holds their bodies together.

  The effect of Shine on non-psionics makes bile rise in her throat. She glances at Iria, relieved to see i
t makes someone else feel the same way.

  Sai forces herself to focus. It would be so easy to relax and go home. Because that’s what her little apartment in the Mobile is—a true home. The first she’s ever had. But dubious as it might be, what if there are people here she can save? What if she can give someone else a chance at a home? Everyone deserves a life free from destitution.

  She glances at her reader to double-check and frowns. The area looks deserted. But that would discourage people from settling there, which is probably what such a facility would want. Sai pushes out her senses and finds nothing at all, not even an absence of something, which would indicate a hidden lab.

  Panel, Deacon, and Ethan fan out, crouched low, weapons at the ready. There’s one tall building off to her left, just outside the bare lots. It would make sense that she isn’t picking up anything if the facility is underground, just like the other one.

  “This way.” She motions the rest of her team over to the building. It’s badly maintained, but none of it is crumbling yet. Sai frowns.

  They move silently, even Iria. It’s good to know her friend understands when to shut up. There are three elevators on the right side of the building. That area is well-lit, in contrast to the rest of the structure, but Sai is still wary and her companions’ facial expressions echo her own concern.

  She walks over to test the exit door down, but the handle is locked and won’t budge when she tries to force it. They can’t use the emergency staircases to navigate below. Swallowing her hatred for elevators, Sai pushes the button to call one up.

  A jolt runs through the supports as the mechanism springs to life, noticeable even through the concrete beneath her feet. The elevator opens to reveal a spacious interior and no troops to fire on them at will. Even with all five of them inside, Sai feels less panicked than she thought she would.

  Just as Iria leans forward to hit the close door button, Sai sees something move out the corner of her eye, followed by a sharp, resounding snap.

  Everything moves in slow motion. Sai extends her shields around the group and shoves them out of the elevator with the power of a phase, but her energy flags. She slams hard against the cold cement floor at a diagonal angle, one knee on the edge of the doorframe, the other one farther in. The hands reaching for her move sluggishly; her own fingers find no foothold to pull herself forward.

  “Sai!” Iria’s scream echoes in Sai’s head.

  There’s a blur in front of her, and she feels herself pulled away from the door as excruciating pain rips through her body. She can’t feel anything except exploding agony that pulls dark edges around her vision.

  “Sai!”

  The voice rips her momentarily away from the focus of pain. “Dom?”

  “I didn’t mean to, Sai. I wasn’t me.” His words stumble over each other, and his eyes radiate every color of the spectrum.

  Pain bleeds back into her mind, and she reaches up a hand to touch the smooth surface of his face as he pulls her into his lap. “It’s okay Dom, we got it. We saved them.”

  Even to her own ears, her words are slurred. But it’s okay because she made a difference, and Dom is there after all. Dom and his safe arms. Dom and the hum of his adrium psionics as it infuses her.

  She can hear the others murmuring and panicking as she drifts in and out of consciousness, but the only voice she wants to hear soothes her with hurried words.

  “Lend me your talent, Sai,” Dom coaxes her, and she hears the strain in his voice. “Just lend me the talent. I have the energy.”

  And it’s Dom, so she lets him in, as her head swirls with dizziness. Slowly the pain recedes and her weakness steadies.

  Sai isn’t sure if she’s dreaming or not when she feels herself lifted onto a stretcher. Nor is she sure of how much time has passed. The faint light deep down tugs at her, but she doesn’t have the energy to respond.

  All that feels certain is the lukewarm touch of Dom’s adrium hand as he strokes her hair back from her face, murmuring words she can’t define. While the hum of his psionics lulls her to sleep, one thought echoes in her mind:

  I will not be broken.

  A lot of people helped me get to this stage of my career, as well as shaping this book into what it is today.

  First and foremost, I have to thank Jami Nord—her unwavering belief in me, her staunch constructive criticism, and her relentless perfectionism. Without it, I wouldn’t be here, and I probably wouldn’t be writing. And to Owen, whose keen eyes make my fight scenes beautiful.

  To Trevor, for letting me pursue my dreams, and to Kami, for being an amazing driving force, even though she never understands why I have to work when she goes to sleep.

  To my papilie, for his ability to be constructively critical even though he has a father’s pride, and to mumskins, for giving me a love of reading from before I can remember.

  To my first-round readers for tearing things apart: Kylie, Quentin, Jai, Anthony, Heather J. and Heather C. To the final round of readers, for nitpicking me into the ground: Becca, papilie, and hubs. And then there was Jude—thank you for believing when no one else did.

  To my CPs who encourage gently, while critiquing ruthlessly and supporting me all the way: Brenda, Andrew P. and Heather R.

  To my dear friend Carrie Ann, who held my hand every time I panicked and showed me better ways to achieve my ends. And to Caitlin for calming my fears about interior design.

  To my amazing cover artist, Sean, and his pure talent and ability to transfer my vision to the cover. Also to Becca again, for being meticulous and amazing in her nitpicking of all the final details.

  And thank you to Julia E, Louise, Brianna, Kendra, and all of my street team.

  To my amazing friend Margaret, who said yes to helping me and took it so much further.

  Thank you to everyone who has cheered me on and helped me bring Sai, Domino, and Bastian into the world

  KT Hanna has a love for words so extreme, a single word can spark entire worlds.

  Born in Australia, she met her husband in a computer game, moved to the U.S.A. and went into culture shock. Bonus? Not as many creatures specifically out to kill you.

  When she’s not writing, she freelance edits for Chimera Editing, interns for a NYC Agency, and chases her daughter, husband, corgi, and cat. No, she doesn’t sleep. She is entirely powered by the number 2, caffeine, and beef jerky.

  Chameleon is her first book. You can find out more on KT’s website, kthanna.com.

  Hybrid (The Domino Project #2) Excerpt

  Available from Amazon

  CHAPTER ONE

  “Why is he different?”

  He hears the sounds and tries to give them meaning. His eyes are heavy and unwieldy, but when he manages to open them, an array of colors assault his mind.

  “Domino.” The word is so soft, almost reverent. He looks in the direction of the speaker and after much concentration defines a man with grey beginning to creep into his hairline and a kind smile. Not sure why it’s kind, he knows it is.

  “Domino.” He attempts to mimic the word, but the sound that escapes his own mouth is harsh and metallic, and he cringes in response.

  But the man chuckles and moves forward, placing fingers gently against his throat. A slight hum of warmth enters the system, and he blinks back and tries again.

  “Domino.”

  “Much better.” The man claps his hands together, tears dripping from one eye. “I am Mathur.”

  The Domino cocks his head to one side, still trying to puzzle out the strange surroundings he’s in and his innate understanding of everything around him. “I am Domino?” The sound feels different in his mouth now he knows it relates to him.

  Mathur nods. “You are my Dom. And I think, this time, you worked.”

  “Worked?”

  The woman over at the desk chuckles, her tone melodic compared to the older man’s. Silver weaves its way deftly through her hair, defined in a plait down her back. It makes her seem older than she looks. “We’ve b
een trying to make you for a long time.” Her tone is almost wistful and Dom frowns.

  “Why?”

  Mathur blinks at him and for a few moments no one has an answer. “Because we believed we could.”

  “Belief?” Dom closes his eyes for a few moments, running the concept over in his mind. A mind that, while his, feels foreign and new, yet older and knowing. “Because you wanted to prove yourselves right?”

  For a minute Mathur just looks at him, a strange red hue momentarily shadowing his face. “Maybe because we could is not always the best reason, eh?” He smiles kindly, but there’s something else Dom doesn’t understand behind those eyes. Something distinctly sad.

  The man turns and gestures to the woman. “This is Garr.”

  Dom inclines his head and tries to move, but finds restraints in place. “Am I not supposed to move?”

  “Ah, yes,” Mathur hurries to his side, the smile back in place, and unbuckles the thick straps. “I did not expect you to wake so soon.”

  Dom thinks he likes the smile. It’s used to put people at ease, but his own face doesn’t seem to want to stretch in the right way and he knows, without looking, that his mimicry of it has failed.

  “Am I alone?” he asks, unsure of where the question comes from.

  “For now.” And he believes the man, because after all, why would he create only one Domino and then leave it all alone.

  Dom stands next to Bastian, trying to battle the strange tide of emotion in him. The tide he didn’t even know he had.

  “Can you walk now?” he asks, after his newfound friend breathes easier.

  Bastian shakes his head, and even that motion looks uncertain. The gangly teen breathes rapidly, his pupils dilated, and the confident smirk that usually underlies every word he speaks is gone. “No, not yet. Let me sit a while.” The words are gasped and he looks pale and ill. Awakening will do that.

  “Did it work?” Dom asks.

  “I think we’d have visitors if it hadn’t.” The human boy grins weakly. “Thanks again. I thought the shine would work, but...”