“If I tell you… you’ll do what needs to be done?”
“I’ll trade myself for Silas. Yes.”
“You know that your pairs might never forgive you? Including Silas?”
“It’s not their choice.”
“Alright then.” He motioned the stool and I sat on it obediently, folding my hands in my lap and smothering my emotions. He said, “Weston’s father died when Weston was twenty-four. He wasn’t equipped to lead the people—his father hadn’t trusted anyone, including Weston. Maybe there was a reason for that, but it didn’t do him any good. By the time Weston took the helm, he was not only unprepared, but also highly underqualified. The pressure was extreme; the pressure to find his pair, to produce a Voda Heir, and above all… to keep our people safe. The human government saw this, and they struck. They started kidnapping Atmás, experimenting on them, trying to emulate or extract their powers. Now our Atmás, as you know, are generally very powerful people. If it were only them, things might have worked out differently, but the humans figured out our weakness. The pairs. They figured out that all they needed to do was threaten a pair, and the Atmá in question would do anything they wanted, even if it meant betraying Weston.
“So Weston started experimenting as well. He discovered Dominic and together, they created the first in vitro fertilised Atmás. The aim was to use gene splicing techniques to prevent his Atmás from forming pairs—making them stronger, more powerful, and less vulnerable. The ultimate soldiers. The champions of our people. Unfortunately, no amount of genetic mutation is going to change nature, and the Atmá magic proved too strong for the single receptacle of a pair-less body and mind. Most of the first batch died off in the first six months. There were only two survivors: the two that Dominic had performed extra testing on. They figured out that the drug Dominic had been feeding those last two subjects to amplify their powers, actually worked in a different way. For a paired Atmá, it did amplify power—dangerously so. For an unpaired Atmá, however, it acted as a substitute receptacle for the missing pair. They repeated the process, doubling the drug dosage that Dominic had used on the two survivors—but like before, they went too far and got too greedy. Most of the second batch died, leaving only a set of twins… and by then, Dominic had run out of time to repeat the experiment, because the humans had clued onto what was happening inside that medical centre. Are you following so far?”
I thought I nodded, but I wasn’t sure. My head may have simply dipped from the sudden overload of information. “Are you saying I’m a…”
“You’re an IVF baby.”
“Who were my parents?”
“Random volunteers. Really, the who is unimportant. Your true creator was Dominic.”
“And you’re one of the subjects?”
His face reddened, and he stayed quiet, averting his eyes to the bench top. My heart-rate kicked up and I jumped off my stool again. Before I knew it, my hand was around his neck, my injured fingers digging into skin. His eyes had gone wide, his hand against my chest. He wasn’t really pushing me away, and that gave me pause.
He couldn’t be my twin.
He wasn’t quite a decade older than me, but he was close to it. He waited, surprisingly patient, while I struggled with myself. I was breathing hard, but the sudden surge of violence had been born from an overwhelming fear, and that fear rose with each second that the anger ebbed away. Jayden wasn’t my twin; he was one of the survivors from the first ‘batch’ of test subjects. I was one of the survivors from the second.
“You know who he is.” My voice was breathless, shaky. “My twin. The messenger.”
The hand on my chest twitched—the only outward sign that my words had affected Jayden. It slid upwards, cupping my neck in much the same way that I held his. His fingers tightened fractionally, his eyes narrowing.
“I’m a good ally,” he said, standing and forcing my hand to lose its grip. Instead of releasing me, he only squeezed harder, turning me suddenly so that he could crowd me against the counter. His entire person radiated malice. “But I’m an even better enemy. Trust me on that. If you want to keep me as an ally, you’ll never ask me about him again, do you understand?”
I tried to pry free from the fingers around my neck, refusing to answer him. He bent, placing his forehead against mine. My thoughts were suddenly very crowded, as though herded to the surface and stirred into agitation. There was a sudden swelling feeling in my head, like it was about to explode, and I groaned in pain.
“Oh, Wonderkid,” Jayden sighed, “don’t make me show you. Don’t make me threaten you any more than I have to. I will help you. As much as I can. But there are some lines that I can’t cross—more lives depend on it than yours or mine.”
It was too much. The heaviness inside my head. I dipped into a strained nod, and he immediately backed away from me. He sat back on his stool, turned toward me as though willing to pick up our conversation exactly where we had left off. His expression was even exactly the same: a polite mix of playful amusement and veiled curiosity.
It was beyond frightening.
I didn’t consciously sit back down. It was more like I stumbled backwards and the stool caught me.
“Whose side are you on, Jayden?”
“My own.”
“Why do you want me to trade places with Silas?”
“You’re one of my own.”
“Because you’re a test subject too?”
He nodded, his features hard—all emotion once again drained from his eyes. “I believe in Weston’s vision, even though I don’t support his methods. Above everything, he just wants to secure a future for our people. He’s a violent, sadistic bastard, but he’s our greatest hope right now because nobody else would even dare to do the things that he has done. Things that needed to be done, whether we’d like to admit it or not.”
“You think you can champion the Zev people?”
“I think we all can. You, me, and… well… at least one of the others. Your twin is too far gone. He’s demonstrated again and again that he will betray anyone who stands in his path: and his brand of betrayal won’t just affect one person. It will affect us all.”
I wanted to ask for names, for specifics, but his vicious reaction to the mention of my twin warned me away from the topic. Still, I couldn’t help but prod just a little bit.
“Is that why you won’t say anything about him? Because he’s blackmailed you just like he’s blackmailed me?”
He said nothing, but something in his face hardened, and I hastened to continue talking before I angered him again.
“Do you know why Weston is so opposed to his sons having an Atmá?” I asked the question cautiously, curious as to whether Jayden was aware of my current status as the Voda Heir.
Jayden turned pensive, and as hard as I watched him, I couldn’t see a spark of anything more in his expression.
“Of course I know,” he admitted quietly. “And I can see from your expression that you do too. Why do you think I’m the only test subject in the Klovoda? And the youngest agent to be promoted into the Klovoda at that. Why do you think Weston keeps me so close?” He tapped his temple. “Not even Dominic knew. It’s a secret that Weston has kept well-guarded. I wouldn’t be surprised if he went to his grave without ever revealing it.”
“But Silas knew?”
His eyes refocused, and I watched as he pulled himself from the tangle of his own thoughts. He smiled, barely, and rubbed a finger over his chin. “Yes,” he decided. “It seems he did. Silas is the one person who seems to be able to match my gift for collecting secrets. I use my power, and he uses his computer. It’s impressive, really.”
“Is that why he hid his first Atmá away?” I asked, trying to keep my voice even.
“It’s not my place to tell you about her.” Jayden watched me cautiously as he spoke. “I was surprised when he told me about you, as any sane person would be. Neither of us had even dreamed that it was possible for a person to steal a pair, but he didn’t doubt for a
second that you had done exactly that. His mark didn’t change, but hers did. All signs pointed to you being particularly powerful. You had to have been, since you were raised without Dominic’s drugs to keep you stable—your mother took you for regular testing, you see, so Dominic couldn’t chance slipping you any pills. Your powers came into fruition early, too. Usually the bond begins to strain you toward your pair as soon as your powers are activated, but you managed to sustain all on your own. Unfortunately, that didn’t stop you from needing a pair. You sought out the most powerful magical blood in our world, and you made it yours. That is beyond unheard of.”
“Wouldn’t Miro have possessed the most powerful magical blood, since he was supposed to be the Voda Heir?”
“He did, but his mental state wasn’t weak enough for you to break through. Silas was constantly being tortured by Weston to test the reactions of women whom Weston suspected were bonded to him. One night—specifically the night that Weston almost killed him—he was so weak that you were able to connect with him. He was your pathway to Miro. I took most of your paintings and destroyed them the day I took your memory … but they were all of Miro, not Silas.”
“Wow.”
“Silas knew that he wouldn’t simply be able to hide you away from his father. Not if you were that powerful. He would have to hide you away from our whole world.”
“And he did,” I mused, “for years.”
“Your pull was too powerful, though. The others kept trying to move back to Seattle without knowing why. It turns out your power wasn’t satisfied with just one pair, and it latched onto the other two brothers as well. Maybe because they were the second most powerful pair, or maybe because they were so closely related to your first pair. I don’t know why.”
“Why did he let them see me? He went to so much effort to keep me a secret.”
“Ahh… you can thank Gerald for that.”
“Gerald?”
“As you know, he was tasked to watch you as soon as you were confiscated from the Klovoda. He attached himself to your mother in the weeks after you left us. From what I understand, he got her pregnant with Tariq a year later to lock her into the marriage. I believe she had begun to entertain thoughts of leaving him. Maryanne changed your name, forged you a whole set of new documents, and tried to hide you from the Klovoda, not realising that Gerald was one of them. Gerald gave progress reports for a while, but then he seemed to… decline. From what I’ve been told, he was drunk most of the time, and stopped checking-in with Weston. They lost touch with you for a little while, but there was nothing that they could do when Maryanne was alive anyway. The Klovoda tried to get into contact with you after her death, but Gerald blocked them at every turn. He thought it was a game. He demanded money, demanded to be given an Atmá power of his own. He thought it was possible, since we had created you. He wasn’t interested in spying anymore.”
“Couldn’t the Klovoda have just snatched me away?”
“No.” Jayden frowned, dipping his head forward in a disapproving shift of expression. “The Klovoda isn’t in the business of kidnapping children, Seraph. They wanted you to be eased into our world. They tried to recruit Tariq instead, hoping to get him onto their side. Tariq rebuffed them much more violently than Gerald, saying that his mother had warned him about them. Had warned him that he would need to protect you when the right time came. He took his role very seriously. Basically, until the Adairs and Quillans, nobody was able to touch you.”
“How does that have anything to do with Silas allowing everyone to move back to Seattle and get close to me?”
“He found out that Dominic and Weston were getting impatient. They were going to make a move on you once and for all. He knew that his distance wasn’t going to protect you anymore. Not once they saw your mark—singular, because he thought it was only one. He told Dominic that he would spend the next year getting close to you, and then he would be the one to introduce you to the Klovoda. They agreed, and then things got messy.”
“Because of Noah and Cabe.”
Jayden nodded. “Because of Noah and Cabe. He trusted Miro to get close to you, but when he realised that you’d stolen a second pair, he was forced between a rock and a hard place. He didn’t trust them the same way he trusted Miro.”
“Because Miro was in love with someone else,” I uttered softly, my mind connecting all of the dots. Sorrow flooded into me, washing away all of the confusion with a barrage of memories: Quillan’s face was in every single one of them, looking distraught, torn with confusion, reeling in his own personal brand of regret.
I had never hated anyone so much as I hated myself in that moment. I was the worst kind of monster alive.
“I’m ready,” I croaked out, standing on wobbly legs.
Jayden pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and punched in a number, handing the phone over to me. I didn’t need to ask whom he had called, just like I didn’t need to think about what I was going to say. There was nothing complicated about how I felt or what I needed to do. In fact, nothing had ever been so simple.
“Jayden.” Weston answered the phone after only a few rings.
“No,” I replied, my tone surprisingly even. “It’s me.”
He paused on the other end and I thought that even his breathing had halted, held back by his surprise.
“You’re going to release Silas,” I continued. “Tonight. I’ll meet you at the Komnata, and this time nobody is shooting anybody. You’ll secure my invitation into that stupid boat house, I’ll leave with you, and Silas will leave with two of Jayden’s men. Do we have a deal?”
“That’s it?” Weston didn’t need any time to digest my offer. “After three months, that’s all you have to say?”
“Not quite,” I hedged. “I need a little extra insurance.”
“How much extra?”
“I don’t want him hurt ever again.”
“I can’t promise that. I’ll give you a month. One month free of pain.”
“One year, for all of them.” One year until Silas reached the cut-off age for bonding and Weston had no excuse to torture him anymore.
“Define all of them?”
“Every single one of my friends.”
Weston laughed, the sound booming through the metal and glass instrument in my hand. “You’ve got balls, girl. Five friends, one year, except Silas. He still only gets a month.”
“Seven friends. Eight months. Including Silas.”
“Not happening.”
I growled, my fingers pinching the phone so hard that my hand started to throb. “Eight months for the rest of them and six months for Silas. Final offer.”
“Fine.”
“And Weston?”
“Yes?”
“That starts right now.”
He laughed again. I could feel the curiosity in Jayden’s stare, so I turned away from him to face the bare hallway leading back to his sitting room.
“Done,” Weston said, hanging up on me.
The Komnata didn’t hold fond memories for me. The scar on my shoulder tingled as I stood on the edge of the swamp, glaring into the reflection of the mossy ripples before me. There was a bite to the breeze that wrapped cold fingers around my body and squeezed, stealing my composure and filling me with familiar trepidation. A borrowed beanie attempted to shield me from the mist of rain that whispered over us, but it was unsuccessful, and I was shivering by the time Weston arrived.
I ignored him, my eyes on the two men that had dragged a body from the back of Weston’s limousine. The man was limp between them, his skin stained in a red-turned-brown meld of colour, his head lolling and his limbs hanging. He was taller than the two carrying him, so the tops of his feet were scraping against the bitumen. I cringed and reigned in the urge to run to Silas to make sure that he was okay, because he wasn’t okay. He never had been, and he never again would be. He might have had a chance, before I had stolen him from his true Atmá, but there was no use dwelling on things that might have been. If there was
anything in life that was guaranteed to slow your progress forward, it was the knowledge of an alternative path to the one you were on. This was my path now, this was Silas’s path now, and there wasn’t any point in thinking about the other paths that might have been taken, because they were innumerable. Silas could have been born to someone other than Weston. He could have been the firstborn, the Voda Heir, and an Atmá himself. He could have been an opera singer. He could have been a drug dealer like I had always expected. He could have been anything; he could have done anything…
I could have stolen anyone.
I watched as Silas was loaded into the car by the side of the road and I was filled with a shame so deep it brought tears to my eyes. It had taken me months to work up the courage to do this. I had been forced to choose between the threat of betraying the people who only wanted to protect me and the threat of choking on my own self-loathing. Eventually, the latter had won out.
“Your demands?” Weston stopped before me, holding out his hand and blocking off my view of the car and Silas.
I dug into the pocket of my coat, pulling out the folded piece of paper with the names on it. Eight months wasn’t long, but Weston wouldn’t be able to lay a hand on Quillan, Noah, Cabe, Tariq, Clarin, or Poison during that time. And six months for Silas might just be enough. It filled me with a very small amount of peace, but also a considerable amount of unease because in my haste to protect the others, I had all but forgotten about the collar around my neck.
I tried to peer around Weston while he was distracted with my list, but the doors had already closed, and the car was pulling away from the curb. Either they didn’t want to take any chances that something might go down at the Komnata again, or else Silas needed urgent medical attention. I didn’t want to dwell on which option it was.
“I’m ready,” I said to Weston.
“Very well.” He held out his arm, bending it at the elbow. Give me your thoughts, the gesture seemed to say.
I contained my emotions, forcing my mind to go blank as I placed my hand on his arm. Jayden appeared on my other side, distracting me for a moment. I was strangely glad that he was there.
Lead Heart (Seraph Black Book 3) Page 11
