Touching Darkness

by Jaime Rush

  Though he hadn’t actually asked more than stated, she said, “I’d love some. It smells wonderful.”

  “Comes from the rain forest.” He pulled down a dark brown mug and poured her coffee from a French press. “And yes, it’s fair trade.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “How did you know I was going to ask that?”

  His mouth quirked in a smile. “I’m a mind reader.”

  “Seriously?” With anyone else, she would have thought he was kidding.

  “Yes, but everyone else isn’t like us.”

  Point made. “Okay, seriously. How does it work?”

  “I just get words here and there. I can’t read every thought. Most people’s thoughts are noise, repetitive thoughts of worry, running conversations, to-do lists. From you I got: Mmm, coffee. Fair trade?”

  She started to think it would be quite annoying to live with someone who could read minds but stopped. “That could come in handy with the women.”

  His mouth twisted in a sardonic smile. “It’s not like I’ve had much of a chance to try it.”

  “Your father has been in hiding for probably your whole life.”

  He took a sip of coffee. “Yeah. We’ve lived here for the last ten years. Home-schooled by Mom, socialized by television. When Lachlan and I were young, we imitated canned laughter whenever someone told a joke or fumbled something.

  “Our father arranged for us to get false identities showing that we got our education in Japan to explain why we weren’t in the American school system. I had just gotten a job at a record store and hooked up with a band. I was actually beginning to live a normal life…until my father phoned yesterday. Now we’re in hiding again.”

  He glanced away for a second, then looked at her again. “I saw you roaming around last night, mate.”

  “Me? I don’t think so.”

  “You were heading back to the guest room. What were you doing?”

  “Getting a drink of water.” The words came out, but she didn’t actually remember doing so.

  He studied her, probably reading her thoughts to see if she was lying. “Hope you found it all right.”

  “I think so.” She took another sip of coffee. “What do you know about BLUE EYES?”

  “Dad told us about the program, what they accomplished.”

  She stepped in front of him and tried not to sound too desperate. “What’s in the Booster?”

  “He says it’s best if we don’t know. The antidote is the important thing.”

  She followed his gaze to the courtyard. Lachlan was sitting on the stone floor, wearing only shorts, his legs crossed. “Is he meditating?”

  “He’s punishing himself. Come on, I’ll take you to the lab.”

  They walked through the courtyard, and Lachlan didn’t seem to notice them. The goose bumps on his body made her wonder how long he’d been out there. The mornings started out cool.

  When they reached the lab, Amy asked, “What’s he punishing himself for?”

  “Killing our mother.” He opened the door, letting her hang on those horrible words.

  It’s not nice to drop a bomb like that and walk away, you know.

  He gave her an unapologetic look and walked inside.

  She followed him to where Richard was leaning over Astrid 4222’s cage. She had decided not to tell Lucas about Richard’s accusation of murder. That needed to be told to all of them in person.

  She leaned close to the cage. “How is she doing?” The mouse was sniffing up at them, bobbing her head.

  “Not bad. I’ve examined the video of her through the night. No seizures, normal sleep patterns.” He looked at her. “Tell me, how many Offspring are with you?”

  It was hard to trust anyone, especially someone involved in the program. “A few of us.”

  He nodded, as though he understood her reluctance. “You said Lucas was experiencing blackouts and painful storms of images. Does anyone else have odd symptoms?”

  “Eric’s always been on the edge. One of us can heal, but she’s been warned if she heals too many mortal wounds, it could psychically break her down.”

  Richard nodded. “It isn’t so much what she’s doing but the frequency and intensity. That’s true for all of you.” He looked at Magnus, who was watching other Astrids in an adjacent cage. “My sons started showing their abilities when they reached puberty. They had each inherited some of my abilities. I’d told them about BLUE EYES years earlier; I had to explain why we were living the way we were…and what was going on inside them.”

  “That sure beats the birds-and-bees talk for complexity.”

  Magnus laughed but Richard didn’t. “It would have been easier to explain string theory.”

  Magnus looked at the clock and left.

  Richard picked up Astrid 4222, but not by the tail like she’d seen in the movies. He let her sit in the palm of his hand. “Both boys embraced their skills. Lachlan is the oldest one, by eleven months, two days. He’s twenty and one year, two months, four days. Thirteen months, one week, three days ago he had mastered many of his skills. But he was also showing signs I had seen in myself: agitation, no impulse control, blackouts, and sleeplessness.”

  “Sleeplessness?” Eric hadn’t been able to sleep since he’d burned Jerryl.

  “It was maddening. I had been working on the antidote, giving it to myself in various doses over the years, but it proved to be unstable. It decreased my symptoms but also my abilities. I was afraid to use it on my sons. Because I knew the more we used our powers, the faster the insanity came, I warned the two not to use them, at least on purpose. The way you see glows and Magnus’s ability to hear thoughts can’t be controlled.”

  Amy shook her head.

  “I can astral project, have since I was fourteen years, four months, and twelve days. The first time, it seemed so natural. I quickly discovered it wasn’t natural at all, that, in fact, no one even believed me. I validated my sons when they began showing the signs. I prepared them. Magnus can move things, as I can, at his target location. Lachlan and I could astral project to not only other places but other time periods as well.”

  “You can go to the past?”

  “It made teaching him history quite fascinating.” He was still focused on Astrid, stroking her back. “We’ve gone to the Wild West, Victorian England, and even the Civil War period.”

  “That’s incredible!”

  A reminiscent smile crept onto his face. “It was. I have an affinity for time. I can tell you what day it was on any date you give me.” Thus his way of breaking down measurements of time. He sank into his thoughts for a moment.

  Amy leaned against the counter. “What’s the difference between remote viewing and astral projecting?”

  “When we project, we have an astral body. We can interact with people or objects at the target location. And we can be seen as an apparition.”

  “An Offspring who’s working with Darkwell can astral project, too.”

  His head whipped up. “Who?”

  “Fonda Raine.”

  He got very pale.

  It didn’t take her long to figure out the timing his mind was calculating. Offspring inherited their parents’ abilities. The Booster had made the recipients amorous.

  “She’s your daughter, isn’t she?”

  “Possibly. Her mother said the child couldn’t be mine, because the timing of ovulation didn’t work for our single assignation. She was married, you see. But she couldn’t astral project.”

  “Which makes Fonda an Ultra. That’s what Darkwell calls the Offspring who come from two of the program’s subjects. They’re even stronger, and more susceptible to all of the side effects.” Which explained why Nicholas heard her and Jerryl having crazy-monkey sex.

  Richard put his hand over his mouth, his thoughts deep and dark.

  She was thinking, too. “What could her mother do? Fonda may have inherited that skill as well. We need to know, because right now, she’s our enemy. Your enemy, too. Darkwell no doubt
has her trying to locate you.”

  “She could freeze time for a period. Really, it’s a matter of changing the perception of time. Time freezes for the other person. So even if a target was being guarded, our assassin went in, shot him, then got out. When time resumed, the target was mysteriously dead.”

  “That’s wild. And scary as hell. Did Darkwell suspect you’d gotten her pregnant?”

  “No. We kept it quiet.”

  She was startled to see Magnus walking across the courtyard wearing a kilt and carrying a sword. He walked purposefully over to Lachlan, swung the sword up and then down in an arc to press against his throat.

  “Oh, my God. Am I seeing that? Or did I just slip to another time period, too?”

  “It’s time for practice. Lachlan will stay out there all morning unless Magnus prods him. They’ve been practicing swordsmanship since Magnus was ten years, two months, and two days and Lachlan eleven years, four months, one week, and two days. I thought they should be prepared.”

  Lachlan didn’t seem bothered or afraid. He stood, slowly and painfully, with resolve on his face and followed Magnus.

  “Magnus said he was punishing himself.”

  “Yes, though in a way it was my fault.”

  Astrid 4222 squeaked as she ran up Richard’s arm and hid under his lab-coat collar. “Lachlan wanted to go to the battlefield of Culloden because of our family history. My wife’s history. I didn’t think it was a good idea, given his symptoms, but he was twenty and three weeks. Who listens to his father when he thinks he’s an adult? I didn’t realize he was addicted to astral projection. He had been covertly doing it every day. It finally caught up to him.

  “Lachlan took that trip to Scotland and became mentally trapped there. Magnus came running up the basement stairs yelling that Lachlan was going crazy, slashing his sword as though he were in battle. We all ran down…including my dear Astrid. Lachlan saw not us, but the enemy: English soldiers. And he came at us. He nearly lanced Magnus as he was trying to put his body between Lachlan’s and ours. Lachlan turned and stabbed Astrid in the stomach. I would have risked anything, even our safety, to save her, but she didn’t want that. She knew she was dying. So much blood. She died within five minutes.”

  Astrid darted down his arm and jumped into the cage. She leapt onto the wheel and began running furiously. Richard’s eyebrows furrowed, but he continued with his story.

  “By then Magnus had brought Lachlan back. He was devastated, still is. I can’t hate him, though I know he hates himself.”

  He was studying Astrid 4222 with a concerned expression. “Lachlan insisted I give him the latest version of the antidote. He was in a desperate state, and I complied. He slept for twenty-four hours straight. Over the next week, he had no blank-outs, no episodes, slept normally. But he’d lost his ability. He still hasn’t regained it.

  “I gave the antidote to Magnus, too. I couldn’t take the chance. He, however, did not lose his ability. I don’t like the instability of the antidote, but seeing what Lachlan went through—what we all went through—I decided I must find the children of the subjects. If my sons were experiencing this, you might be, too. But will your people take it?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  Astrid 4222 had worn herself out. She was panting on the cedar chips. Amy looked at Richard. “You said Darkwell killed our parents. How do you know?”

  “Because I projected into their final moments. I saw a man pull the trigger on your father. I saw Francesca Vanderwyck’s car get nudged off the highway by another vehicle. I saw a sniper take out Jack Stoker, even though he’d been brought under control after the shooting spree. And I saw two men hanging Wayne Blackhawk Kee.”

  Amy’s hand went to her mouth. Her heart tore as she imagined her father, a gun the last thing he ever saw. So he hadn’t killed himself, hadn’t failed to think about his daughter finding his body. She tucked that away to think about later. “Darkwell covered it up.”

  Richard continued. “If we went crazy, families would investigate, demand answers. It was easier to take us out. I knew I was next.”

  “What about Rand Brandenburg’s father? He supposedly embezzled money and killed himself when he was caught.”

  “Another cover-up. I doubt he took a dime.” He nodded to a fridge filled with jars of liquid. “I will prepare the antidote for your people. Each syringe will hold the exact amount I gave Lachlan and Magnus.”

  “I’ll need eight of them.” She was including Cheveyo, though she didn’t know if they would see him again.

  He walked out of the lab, leaving a soft light on for the mice. Amy heard metal clanging together. Behind one of the glass walls, Magnus and Lachlan engaged in a swordfight, both wearing Scottish regalia. Magnus had his curls tied back in a queue. Lachlan’s hair was loose and wild.

  She wandered over to watch them, caught up in the magnificence of their moves, the fierceness of their expressions. Magnus was everything she imagined a Highlander would look like, with his bare, broad shoulders and combination of strength and grace. Lachlan was no less handsome, but his moves were stiffer, angrier. His glow was jagged, even when he’d been meditating.

  She could also see Richard in the glass’s reflection as he knelt and took in the beauty of his slime molds. At the same moment, he sprang up and Magnus dropped his sword. Both men looked at each other, their expressions stark with fear. All three men walked toward each other.

  Magnus opened the door. “You felt it, too.”

  “Yes. Trouble. Not Amy Shane trouble.”

  “Darker, dangerous,” Magnus said. “We need to get her out of here.”

  “Not without the antidotes.” If something happened to Richard…she couldn’t chance losing the only way she knew to save Lucas. “I need at least two of them.” One for Eric, too.

  “I’ll prepare them now. Then you must leave. I don’t want anything connecting you to us, even a phone number. But I will give you ours so you can contact us later. Then I’ll give you the rest of the antidotes.” He sprinted to the lab.

  Lachlan stepped up, his mouth in a bitter snarl. “She brought them here. They probably tracked her.”

  Amy wasn’t about to be cowed by his bitterness. “If one of our people found you, one of Darkwell’s can, too.”

  Magnus held his brother back, his hand on his upper chest. “Don’t blame her. We knew it was inevitable. It’s why Dad has prepared us all of these years.” He looked at Amy. “We have a safe room. Even if Darkwell finds our house, he won’t find us.”

  Richard burst out of the lab and handed her a box. “There are two syringes and my phone number. Check with me in a few days.” He looked at his sons. “Magnus, walk her to her car. Lachlan, help me prepare the lab. I can’t let Darkwell find my notes.” He turned to her. “I never told him about my wife’s pregnancies. They happened at the end of the program, when things were falling apart. The boys took my wife’s maiden name, MacLeod, to add an extra layer of protection. Darkwell must not know about them.” He waved for Lachlan to follow him to the lab.

  Box clutched in her arms, Amy ran back into the house, Magnus shadowing her. She gathered her things and left. She still hadn’t found out what the substance in the Booster was. And she might not ever if Richard didn’t survive.

  CHAPTER 38

  Gerard was hunched over a map with three of his hired mercenaries when Pope walked in. The men stared at the six-foot-five man with shaved head and eyes an unusual shade of violet-blue.

  “Excuse us for a minute,” Gerard told the men, who got up and left.

  When the door closed, Pope said, “Andrus is here.”

  “How did you know?”

  “I know, just as I know that his being here will bring much trouble. But I have a proposition for you. You can change what will happen if you send him back to prison now and cease all contact with him.”

  “You know? You can see the future?”

  Pope had always been evasive as to who he was and what he
could do. He had never alluded to the fact that he had any psychic abilities, and yet, somehow the men who’d been injured had miraculously healed without any memory of the ordeal, or of working for him. Gerard could hardly push for answers when Pope was helping him.

  “Yes, and yours is very bleak indeed. But it can be changed, as I said.”

  Gerard felt that twitch he got whenever Pope tried to take control of his program. His supposed prediction was meant to scare him into complying. Gerard wouldn’t be cowed.

  Pope continued, “I found another Offspring, one you will never find. I will give you his name if you comply.”

  A new Offspring: Gerard’s mouth salivated at the prospect. He wasn’t going to ask questions. He knew Pope wouldn’t offer any more information until he complied. He was already planning to find Nicholas’s sister, though Darkwell wasn’t too hopeful in bringing her over, at least voluntarily.

  “I’ll consider it.”

  Pope’s eyes narrowed, and Gerard saw an expression he’d never seen before: a childlike smile.

  “I must go.”

  Pope stepped out without even a good-bye, which was fine with Gerard. Sayre Andrus had found Richard Wallace when he’d gotten into Amy’s dreams and had her roam the house for clues. Andrus was going to be his salvation. And when nothing terrible happened, and Andrus either returned to prison or was killed in an accident, Pope would admit he’d been wrong. Maybe not in so many words, but in giving him that name.

  Soon his daughter would be back. All he had to do was get her under his control, and she would return to her senses. If she didn’t come on her own, Braden’s death would shatter the spell she was under. Gerard would treat this like a hormonal rage and let her grovel for forgiveness.

  He smiled. Soon all the Rogues would be dead, and he could finally move ahead on his plans to save the country.

  “This is too easy,” Olivia whispered, as they stepped into the clearing surrounding a white, windowless building in the woods. It wasn’t large, but it was tall, and flecks shimmered in the paint. It bore no identification of any kind. There was no gate or imposing signs about trespassers being shot at the road’s entrance. No security cameras were visible, no sign of an alarm system. “What if it’s a trap?”