by K. T. Hanna
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.
Parasite (The Domino Project #3) Excerpt
Coming February 2016
CHAPTER ONE
The rumble in his stomach feels like indigestion, but he knows it isn’t. Bastian puts his hand to his mouth as if to smother a cough, disguising the sliver of white powder he slips through his cracking lips, to control the outburst and dull the awakening. He glances to the middle of the courtyard they spend their school breaks in—where a group of adolescents huddle around a boy of similar age.
Zach revels in the attention, basks in it even. It’s obvious he’s dramatizing everything, his moans of suffering far more pronounced that this feeling should cause. At least, it is to Bastian. Not that it matters. Zach can have all the adoration, after all, he craves it. The less attention, the less Bastian’s abilities will be noticed. Ever since he was young, his brother worried about when his powers would wake. He warned him, schooled him, and treated him as if he’d break—as if he’d be taken away.
There’s too much Bastian has to accomplish to risk being locked up and leeched of power. Fear grips his gut again, and his breath comes quickly. Deep down, just like his brother Mason, Bastian harbors the same thirst, the same need - the same iron clad will to do whatever it takes.
Another rumble interrupts his thoughts, fighting the drug and his own harsh control of the situation. Out of the corner of his eye Bastian catches a glimpse of something, and for a moment, just a moment, forgets his plight. It comes back with an extra sharp dig to his entire diaphragm, as if out of spite.
He bites down on his lip and leaves Zach to his circle of adoration. A few steps bring him to sit on a brick planter near the outer wall of the atrium that serves the inner-Central elite. Once out of sight, Bastian clasps his arms around his middle and turns the corner only to stop short and cock his head to the side.
“Twelve?” He asks softly, having heard of the experiment before. It looks liquid and odd, lacks any real definition but for arms, legs, and a head. None of the features are defined properly and an iridescent shimmer runs through it constantly, like stars in their own galaxy. It’s taller than he is, a dark oval shape where the face should be.
“Domino.” Its voice is strange, alien sounding, as if it doesn’t get a chance to use its vocal chords much.
“You’re a domino.” Bastian states, fascinated by it—so like himself and yet completely different. “You were the twelfth.”
It nods and mimics him, cocking its own head to the side for a moment before straightening and cracking something that can’t possibly be bones because he doesn’t have them. Bastian fights off a shiver.
“I am Domino.” The metallic clang is gone, leaving the tone softer, more gentle, and decidedly more human. It pushes itself away from the wall and takes a few steps back and forth. As it moves, its legs take on a more defined shape, followed by its upper torso and arms.
“It’s the eyes that are hypnotic, fascinating as they whirl through a multitude of colors Bastian didn’t even realize existed. Slowly, the domino’s face takes on human shape, the mimicry is gone. There are edges to him, distinctly alien ones, but Twelve is definitely male. His skin isn’t skin, it’s a shimmering form of metal, fading in and out with his surroundings, disorienting Bastian a little.
“Thank you.” And it... no, he smiles.
The expression sends another shiver up Bastian’s spine. “You’re welcome,” he manages not to stammer. And still, he can’t tear his eyes away, despite the way his own gut it twisting and tearing at him, trying to break free. He stumbles and leans against the wall, aware that he probably shouldn’t be standing.
The domino frowns, a strange expression on the reflective face. Bastian wonders why he can’t see himself in it.
“You are not well.” He states.
“No, no I’m really not.”
“But you hide it. I understand this.” With one quick motion, the domino lifts Bastian up before he can protest, and carries him down the short flight of stairs he didn’t even know existed, just behind one of the brick walled planters. The glass at the top of the courtyard glints in the filtered sunlight as the hybrid carries him into a small room. Inside, there are padded benches and some worktables in what looks like the room used to maintain the break area outside.
“I will hide you until you wish to be found.”
Bastian wonders why it doesn’t feel dangerous. After all, the horror stories around the school about the Domino Project could chill anyone’s blood. But this one, the first one, feels nothing but safe. There’s a strange compassion in those flickering eyes, and even the weird expressions that flit over his face.
The padded bench he’s placed on it firm but not uncomfortable, and the stress of standing, of holding up the appearance of not experiencing powerful awakening abilities has been more than Bastian can bear for a while now. He sags down onto the surface, finally allowing himself a break as a wave of dizziness washes over him.
The domino frowns. “You are hurt.” He reaches out a hand and presses it to Bastian’s chest, eyes closed for a moment. “You should let it pass. Even I had to let it pass.”
“I know, I just don’t want everyone to know.” Bastian sighs out the words with more effort than he expected.
“Then not everyone will know.”
Bastian blinks at the other, but there’s no change in stance or demeanor. “Why help me?”
The domino shrugs, such a human gesture it’s difficult for Bastian to think of him as anything but. “Because you spoke to me. Because you do not believe all the thoughts fed to you. No one has spoken to me as a person since Mathur died. Not one.”
“Oh.” It’s a good reason, a very good reason, and Bastian relaxes. “Thanks Dom.”
“Dom?” Dom smiles, a scary parody of the human expression with a mouth that doesn’t seem to understand the concept. “I like that.”
Safer than with Mason, safer than in the court yard, Bastian finally lets the power that’s been trying to bubble up through him for the last few days free rein. Even the Shine, still bitter on his tongue, can’t dull the pain as it tears through his body.
But Dom—with his cool hand gently over Bastian’s mouth to subdue the screams of pain, and a strange bubble of domino shielding tightly clamped around the room—helps Bastian plant the seed of a long awaited revenge.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Praise for CHAMELEON (The Domino Project #1)
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Excerpt from PARASITE (The Domino Project #3)
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