by H. L. Burke
Shepherd winced. “Straight to the point. Another reason we could’ve used you on the committee. You have the tact to say things gently but you’re honest—perhaps to a fault—which reminds me, I need that promise from you. Nothing we say after this point leaves this office.”
Prism’s chest tightened, but she needed to know. “You have my word.”
“Good.” Shepherd tapped her carefully manicured nails on the desktop. “What do you know about laboratory activation of sable genetic sequences?”
Prism frowned. That wasn’t what she’d expected this to be about. Not that she’d known what to expect, but definitely not that.
“I mean, I’m hardly a scientist, but I know the basics. Sable genes exist in a percentage of the population—I’ve heard the estimates run anywhere from twenty-five to fifty percent—but most are inactive, dormant until acted upon by an outside catalyst. Once activated, though, they remain active and normally pass biologically from parent to child.”
“That’s the basics. You are aware of Brink’s attempts—and apparent successes—in heightening sable abilities, increasing the dominance of those traits within the genetic code of the individual?”
“Yes, like he did to Aiden.” Prism’s heart ached. Aiden never wanted that sort of power. He was laid-back, pragmatic, and above all ethical. The ability to kill a person with a glance wasn’t something he’d want to be burdened with.
“What do you know about activating secondary sable genes?” Shepherd leaned forward in her seat.
Prism’s throat tightened. She squirmed in her seat, feeling like she was being watched or evaluated—maybe both. “I’ve heard that it’s been attempted.”
“It has, multiple times. Unfortunately, there’s something in our makeup that seems to object to the activation of more than one set of sable genes at the same time. It’s why the Mymic device backfired. It’s why whenever we’ve attempted it in a lab setting, the results have never been as desired. Sometimes multiple genetic sequences will activate, but in a weakened form, leaving the sable worse than useless. Other times they will wreak havoc in the subject’s body leading to unexpected mutations—and even death.”
“I’ve heard of those, but was under the impression that DOSA had stopped doing that sort of experiment well before my time.” Prism gripped the arms of her chair. “Now, considering everything else DOSA has been doing behind closed doors, it wouldn’t surprise me if that’s not the case.”
“We’ve tried to proceed with caution and ethics, but yes, we’ve been pursuing the possibilities.” Shepherd’s face remained placid, near expressionless, as if she were determined not to give Prism any cues to work with. “Of course, that does not leave this room.”
“Understood.” Prism dropped her gaze to her lap. “What does this have to do with me or Aiden?”
“Our experiments to add on an extra layer of genetic code over pre-existing sable genes—or even in normies who do not carry a sable gene—have always backfired. However, we have theorized that if a sable had a secondary genetic sequence as well as their active one, we might be able to bring it to light, so to speak.” Shepherd’s eyes narrowed. “However, for that we’d need a sable with two genetic contributors, one active, one inactive.”
“You mean two sable parents.” Realization dawned over Prism. “Like Aiden and I have.”
“Exactly. While you actively exhibit sable traits from your mother and your brother showed those inherited from your father, theoretically the genetic material for both sets of powers exists in each of you.”
Prism’s blood ran cold. “You’re saying that you can naturally activate my secondary sable genes—and give me Aiden’s powers?”
“Theoretically, yes, we can. It’s a simple injection, and we should know within an hour if it’s having results.” Shepherd stood and walked around the desk to stand over Prism. “However, this is untested. We have never had an opportunity to work with a sable with two parental gene lines, and even if we had, every sable is different. We don’t know the side effects. It’s a risk. It could harm you, or it could do nothing at all. However, with the Mymic device stolen, it’s your best chance to do what you intended to do.”
Prism’s hand slipped into her jacket pocket and grasped her phone.
Fade wouldn’t like this. He’d tell me to run. Remind me that it’s his turn—but even he said turns don’t apply when one of us can’t do the dangerous thing. Fade can’t take this on for me. He doesn’t have the same genetic sequences as I do, as Aiden does. I’m the only one who can do this. Oh, but if it goes wrong, what could I lose?
She pulled her phone out of her pocket and brought up the most recent picture, one she’d taken of Fade when he’d fallen asleep with Ruby in his arms, the tiny baby smaller, than his head, cradled inches from his face. Her heart ached for them. She wanted to run home, to throw herself into her husband’s arms and hold her baby and never look back—
Thinking the worst case scenario, if this kills me, Ruby will grow up without a mother, just like I did. A pang of grief stabbed her heart. Still, that’s the worst case scenario. The best case scenario is that it works. It activates. I can talk to Aiden, and we bring him home. I can’t live my life based on worst case scenarios—but can I afford to take a risk on the faint hope of the best?
She swiped through a few more pictures before opening another folder. A picture of Aiden smirked back at her. He deserved so much better than this.
He wouldn’t want you to take this risk either—but it’s not his choice. Oh, dear Lord, please let me not be making a horrible mistake.
She powered off her phone and shoved it back into her pocket. “I’m in. When can we get started?”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Fade walked into headquarters, feet dragging. He hadn’t been eager to strap on the Mymic device and use Aiden’s powers—potential brain damage was not something he took lightly. Still, it had provided a path forward, something that offered Prism hope. More importantly, it offered Prism hope in a way that let him absorb the risks. Now that that had been taken away from her, the thought that she might do something stupid wrapped itself around him and choked every thought with worry.
He tried to talk himself down from panicking and rushing back to check on her.
Lucia’s smart. Lucia’s capable. I don’t need to watch over her every minute. Damn, I wish I knew what Shepherd was up to with her.
He checked his phone. No new texts or calls. Of course, he’d only left Prism about a half hour before.
Laughter echoed through the lower floor. He followed it into the game room. Keeper stood over Yui who sat on the couch.
As a human.
Fade’s eyes widened. “She isn’t furry today?”
“Some things are worth being human for,” the woman murmured. Fade strode around the couch. Warmth flooded through him. In Yui’s arms, Ruby slept, tiny face peaceful and ... perfect.
“Yeah, I get that.” Fade smiled.
Yui’s lips pursed. “You want her back?”
Fade shook his head. “Not this instant. Thanks for looking out for her, you two. It’s good to have people we can trust.”
He settled into a chair and fiddled with his phone. The whole reason Lucia had sent him ahead was to get the team brainstorming about another way to help Aiden. The quicker he got on that, the less chance that Lucia would get desperate enough to do something reckless.
He eyed Yui. “I was supposed to call a group meeting when I got back. My instinct is just to text Wildfyre and Tanvi to join us. Are you going to want to be like that when they get here? Tanvi knows, but Wildfyre hasn’t been introduced to you as a human yet.”
Yui’s nose wrinkled. “Eventually he must know.”
“All right, if you’re comfortable.”
Fade texted Tanvi.
Things didn’t go great in DC. Want to catch everyone up. Do you know where Wildfyre is?
The dots pulsed alerting him to her typing a response for a few seconds befo
re her reply popped up.
He’s here with me. We were about to spar. Where do you want to meet?
Game room. Keeper and Yui are already here. Yui is unshifted. Might want to give Wildfyre a heads up.
What? And miss the fun? Nah, gonna record it.
Fade laughed quietly. “They’re on their way.”
A few minutes later Tanvi and Wildfyre entered the room. Upon seeing Yui, Wildfyre paused, tilted his head to one side, and then smiled. He glanced at Tanvi who was doing a very poor job of pretending to just be checking her texts while obviously aiming the camera at him.
A bemused look on his face, he strode up to Yui and bowed his head in greeting. “Yui, I’m assuming?”
Tanvi’s phone hit the floor. “Oh, come on!”
Yui returned the bow, her expression thoughtful but unfazed.
Fade arched an eyebrow. “How long have you known?”
“Since a little before the hospital attack.” Wildfyre settled into an empty chair. “I’ve met shifters before. Add that to the way you guys talk about her, and it wasn’t much of a logical leap. Nice to meet you more formally, though.”
“And you as well.” Yui focused on Ruby again.
Tanvi huffed and sat cross legged on the floor. Keeper remained standing over his wife.
Fade drew a deep breath and launched into an explanation of what had happened in DC.
Tanvi’s scowl deepened with every word. “I’m so sick of that a-hole being one step ahead of us—even when he’s dead.”
“Yeah, so am I.” Fade ghosted his hand through the arm of his chair and back out again. “We’re back at square one, though.”
“Ach, I don’t like Lucia being alone with Shepherd right now, not even a wee bit.” Keeper’s brow furrowed. “Any guess as to what she wanted?”
“No.” Fade checked his phone. No notifications from Prism.
He texted, Hey, let me know when you’re done, and if you’re heading home, okay?
He waited for a moment, but the text remained delivered but unread. His jaw clenched, and he shoved the phone into his pocket. “I don’t like it either, but Prism is desperate. Aiden has given her just enough communication to give her hope. If we can’t get him back now, it’s going to break her open.”
“We’ll be here for her. No matter what, but dammit, I don’t want to give up on Aiden either.” Tanvi’s fingers tightened into her knees. “We can’t trust the committee. One of their members killed him and another turned him into a freakin’ zombie for Pete’s sake!”
“Yeah, the committee has a less than stunning record.”
And one of them has pulled my wife into some sort of secret conference.
Fade resisted the urge to pull out his phone again.
“There has to be something we can do to get to Aiden.” Tanvi tugged furiously at her ponytail.
“Maybe there is.” Wildfyre leaned forward in his seat. “Brink’s a villain. They have their patterns. Like, I have never known a supervillain mastermind worth his salt who didn’t have a lair of some sort. Considering the resources we know Brink has at his fingertips, he’s not working out of a studio apartment or some puny self-storage unit. He needs space. He’s got energy consumption. There’s a lair somewhere. I’d bet the farm on it.”
“He also gets around,” Keeper pointed out. “He’s hit targets on both the east and west coast.”
“Considering his MO, he could be controlling the teams remotely, though.” Fade continued to fidget with his powers. “I don’t know a lot about Brink personally, but I very much doubt he’s putting his own person in danger during the attacks. Depending on the method he’s using to control his team, he simply wouldn’t need to. He’s too calculating to put himself in danger just for the show.”
Tanvi bounced to her feet. “If he’s using some sort of signal to control them, maybe we could find a way to jam it.”
“Theoretically.” Wildfyre’s mouth pinched. “Do any of us have any sort of expertise in that field, though?”
Keeper shrugged. “I know a bloke.”
“Of course you do,” Fade and Tanvi said simultaneously.
Keeper laughed. “I’ll make a call—” He took a single step away from the couch then stumbled. Dropping to his knees, he gripped his skull and cried out in pain.
“Bob, are you—” Tanvi yelped and likewise collapsed. She hid her eyes behind her hands and whimpered. Fade’s powers surged to life instinctively.
Yui pulled Ruby closer against her chest, and Fade and Wildfyre exchanged a look.
A faint pain radiated through Fade’s skull, like someone were prying at the surface trying to get in. His powers fought back against it, pushing it away.
Thinking fast, he reached down and grabbed Tanvi by the shoulder and extended his fade into her.
“No!” she gasped, jerking away from him.
He gaped at her.
She shook her head. “It’s Aiden. He’s trying to .... ouch, easy boy. Keeper?”
“I feel it too,” the older man groaned. “The poor lad is frantic.”
The scratching at Fade’s consciousness intensified. He focused on it. Sure enough, the familiar energy of Aiden permeated the surge. An idea took root in Fade’s mind.
God, if You’re listening, please don’t let me regret this.
Drawing a steadying breath, he let his powers retreat into his core.
A stabbing pain drove into his mind, and he sat down heavily.
Aiden, it’s me. What is it? What do you need?
A memory of the night Aiden had died exploded in Fade’s brain, sending him back to that moment, watching the young man struggle to breathe, unable to speak. A message of pure emotion emanated from him.
Protect her. Protect her. Protect her.
I want to, but you have to help me. Give me more. Fade closed his eyes.
Can’t reach. Can’t escape. Can’t ... can’t ...
The mental signal weakened. Then with a last burst of energy an image flashed through Fade’s imagination, so quickly he could barely grasp it. A metal arch in a room surrounded by computers. Then like a radio being switched off, Aiden was gone.
Fade’s heart dropped to his stomach.
“Tanvi, Keeper, did you get that?” he snapped.
Tanvi’s chest rose and fell in great breaths as she picked herself up off the floor. “Do you think it means what I think it means?”
Fade gave a terse nod. “Brink has access to the gateways. He’s got to be aiming for DOSA HQ.”
“Pris is there,” Tanvi’s tone grew urgent.
Fade jerked his phone out of his pocket. The text he sent still showed as unread. He hit dial only to have it ring straight through to voicemail.
“Dammit,” he growled. “We’ve got to get to DC, now.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Prism held her breath, wishing she could still her pounding heart. She fidgeted as the lab-coat-wearing scientist fiddled with something across the room.
Am I really going to do this?
She slipped her hand into her pocket, wanting desperately to call Fade. He’d be wondering why she hadn’t returned or at least texted him. However, she worried if he challenged her, her resolve would melt.
I need to do this.
Her arm brushed her chest, and she felt dampness. Her face heated. Leaking already? Dang it, she needed to stock up on more of those cotton inserts. She glanced at the wall clock and tried to do a quick conversion from Eastern to Pacific time. Yeah, it was probably about time for Ruby to eat again. She’d left Yui and Keeper with a little pumped milk, and there was plenty of formula—
I should be with her. I’m a terrible mom ... no, I can’t think like this. Not now.
Shepherd approached her. “We’re about ready. You need to lie down for the administration.” She motioned towards a hospital bed in the corner of the room.
No more doubt. I’m going to do this. For Aiden.
Prism said a quick prayer before nodding. She remo
ved her bomber jacket to reveal a black tank top. Thankfully she’d worn a dark color. If she’d worn something light the circles of milk on her shirt would be all anyone could look at. Lying down on the hospital bed, she took deep calming breaths. Her mid-section still ached a little. She squirmed up on the pillows and grimaced at the un-toned bean bag that was her stomach.
Great, about to endure an experimental procedure to mess with my very DNA, and I’m worried about my lack of abs. She laughed quietly at herself and turned her attention to the scientist. His assistant strapped monitors to Prism’s chest and forehead.
The scientist approached carrying a single syringe.
“Just one injection?” Prism asked.
“Yes, that should be all we need.” He tapped the side of the syringe.
“Can you give me any idea of what to expect?” She gripped the sheets beneath her.
“It’s hard to say. I haven’t presided over anything exactly like this, but I have interacted with the laboratory activation of single-trait sables.” He gave her a comforting smile. “It’s rarely problematic though sometimes the results aren’t immediately apparent. Sometimes it can take days for the first signs of a new sable ability to show up. Other times they activate within a few minutes. There’s unfortunately no normal.”
“Is it painful?” She swallowed. “I mean, it’s all right if it is, but I would like to know what to expect.”
“Sometimes there are minor pains, akin to growing pains, I suppose, but I wouldn’t imagine that would be the case with primarily mental abilities. A mild headache would be the most likely side effect.”
Prism’s muscles relaxed. “I can handle that.” She angled away from the needle. She’d always found if she didn’t look, she barely felt them go in, but if she watched, she’d tense up and make it worse.
Shepherd stood near the doorway. “Are we ready?”
“Yes, ma’am,” the scientist said.
Prism felt the pinch as the needle penetrated her upper arm followed by a light burning, but not unbearable. No, if anything it felt like the clean, tingling sensation she got from strong mouthwash. She let out a slow breath.
