Fated: The Epic Finale (Talented Saga Book 8)

by Sophie Davis

  The story was tragic. It also didn’t make much sense. I shook my head, confused.

  “Alcohol should’ve made her abilities weaker. Or, at least, made her unable to wield them effectively,” I said. “It takes so much concentration.”

  “Not always,” Erik pointed out. “Heightened emotional situations can lead to large outpourings of power. You know that.”

  It wasn’t exactly a dig, but it felt like one. I recalled finding Donavon and Kandice together in his cabin. That hadn’t ended well either.

  “I wasn’t drunk,” I said flatly.

  “Neither was Denna,” Crane said. “Alcohol, drugs—those weren’t her vices. Not exactly. Power was what she craved. She started using boosters to enhance her natural abilities at a very young age. Eventually, it was too much.

  “From what I’ve been told, the night she died, Denna had used so many injections that she didn’t even know her own name by the time her father confronted her.”

  I swallowed around the lump in my throat. Erik. Penny. They hadn’t been whooping it up and using boosters, but all the talent signatures Mac had injected would produce the same result. In fact, they were already producing the same result. My best friend and my boyfriend were both headed toward breakdowns of epic proportions.

  Was I? I wondered. Was that why Crane looked like he wanted to lock me in a bubble and pump me full of suppressant? Did he believe that my power would one day kill me, too?

  “What about her brother? Um, Darin?” I asked to change the subject.

  “He’s the first Morpher in the family,” Mr. Kelley noted, looking thoughtful.

  I shook thoughts of Denna from my mind and focused on her brother.

  It wasn’t unusual for talented children born to talented parents to have different powers. Still, it felt somehow important that Darin was a Morpher. He also happened to be a very skilled one. According to the reports of whoever was watching him, Darin started morphing into other people at the age of two. That was unheard of. Even in the early generations, human morphing was a learned skill. No one did it automatically, and it was never a first form.

  “Go back,” Erik said. “Let’s look at the mother.”

  At some point during Crane’s story, Erik had picked up Alex. The little boy reached a hand in my direction, and I scooted closer to the two people I cared most about in the world.

  Epsilon clicked on Darin’s wife, Caralyn McDonough. Her personal information populated the screen, including her full name.

  Caralyn Montague McDonough.

  The birth name gave me pause. Montague was Emma’s last name. I glanced around at the others. They all wore blank expressions, except for Erik. He’d noticed the last name, too, and understood the significance. Or maybe he’d read it from inside my head.

  “She was a dual threat,” James commented, breaking into my thoughts.

  Still contemplating the potential familial connection between Emma and the McDonoughs, I had yet to get past the name. James was correct; the report listed Caralyn as both a Morpher and a Mind Manipulator. Had Darin married her in the hope of reintroducing mental powers into the family?

  If so, it hadn’t worked. Mac was a strong Morpher, but he didn’t possess any mental abilities.

  “Gretchen does, though,” Erik reminded me.

  And so did I.

  Donavon had all but admitted that his parents forced him into a relationship with me. I’d thought it was because Mac wanted to keep me close. Which, I supposed, was probably true. But was the real reason Mac wanted me to date Donavon because he hoped our offspring would inherit my abilities?

  I didn’t know how to feel about that. I suddenly understood why Mac didn’t push Donavon and me to rekindle our romance after I returned from Nevada. Because of my injuries there, I couldn’t have children, even with reproductive technologies. I could no longer give him a kid with mental powers.

  But why? Why would Mac want that?

  I had no answers, though a lot of crazy theories swirled around my mind. Epsilon returned to the screen with the main family tree, and we continued to go through the names. I already knew a lot of the information in the other files, since they belonged to Mac, Gretchen, Donavon, and—

  “Wait, Alex?” I demanded. “That’s not possible. They didn’t know he was part of the family until right before everything in D.C.”

  “Maybe we should take a break?” Mr. Kelley interjected pointedly.

  “That’s a good idea, Earon,” Crane chimed in. “I believe Gentry was working on lunch for everyone.”

  Alex still had hold of my fingers and didn’t want to let go. His free hand was wrapped around Erik’s neck, and his little legs clung to my boyfriend as though his life depended on it. I didn’t want to take a break. I wanted to see what else was in the files. I still didn’t know how or why this mattered, but it did.

  Resting my free hand on Alex’s back, I put my head against his.

  “It’s lunchtime, buddy, okay? Mr. Kelley is going to take you to eat,” I said, meeting Erik’s father’s gaze.

  “What ‘bout you?” Alex asked in a small voice.

  “I have some stuff to finish. Erik and I will find you very soon. Okay?”

  For a long minute, Alex refused to let go of us. Finally, after I promised to see him before he went to sleep again, he relented. I kissed his forehead, and Mr. Kelley pried him away.

  “Why don’t you three get something to eat, too?” Crane said, nodding to Kenly, Alpha, and Epsilon. “Maybe take a nap?”

  Kenly started to protest, but James didn’t let her finish.

  “Food is fuel, and we need fuel,” he said, holding up a hand. “Besides, Riley was awake a bit ago. He’d love for you to stop by.”

  She looked to me, and I nodded.

  “Go. James is right. You’re no good if you don’t take care of yourself.” I smiled at Alpha and Epsilon. “You guys, too. Phi, Zeta, and the twins will be excited to see you.”

  Alpha seemed uncertain. “I am close to unlocking more files,” she hedged. “We believe they might involve the creation drug.”

  I wanted to tell her to stay and finish the decryption. If there was information inside those files that could help with the cure, I wanted Dr. Patel to have it as soon as humanly possible. Yet Alpha was visibly exhausted.

  A few hours won’t make a difference, I told myself. Even as I thought it, I wasn’t sure the statement was true.

  “Go. Really. The files will be here after you’ve rested,” I said with considerable difficulty. I obviously didn’t sound as sincere as I’d hoped, because Erik chimed in.

  “We can’t have you burning yourselves out now,” he said. “We’re going to need you.”

  “If you are sure, Talia?” Alpha asked.

  “Positive.” My smile was strained but passable.

  Alpha and Epsilon both gave me polite nods, then followed Mr. Kelley from the room. Kenly stood to leave as well but hesitated when James followed suit.

  “Why don’t you stay and help Talia?” Kenly suggested. “I’ll be okay. I’m just going to get something to eat and nap, you don’t need to come.”

  “Go head, James,” Crane insisted. “I’ll stay with Talia and Erik.”

  I suspected that he was worried about what we might find in Mac’s files. He probably wanted as few people around as possible until we knew what we were dealing with. It almost seemed like Crane knew, or thought he knew, more about the reason behind Mac’s detailed records.

  “Want me to stay, Ian?” Brand offered.

  “No need. Spend some time with Penny. Check in with our people about Henri, please. See if anyone’s got a lead on his location,” Crane instructed.

  “Of course. Let me know if you need me.” With that, Brand was out the door.

  “Let’s split the rest of the family trees,” I suggested once only Erik, Crane, and I remained. Erik had taken Epsilon’s seat in front of the main screen. “How many are there?” I asked him.

  “Ten diff
erent family trees,” he replied after a few taps.

  I blew out a breath. “Guess we’d better get started.”

  The holoscreen split in three, with a different image projecting in each direction. Crane and I pulled chairs over to the desk and settled in.

  “Anything special we’re looking for?” Erik asked.

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. “I mean, Mac kept these hidden under layers of encryption for a reason, right? There must be something special about them, some reason for all of this data.” Looking at Crane, I tilted my head to one side. “Any thoughts?”

  He sighed. “A few. Danbury was a complicated man.”

  “Care to elaborate?” I asked when Crane didn’t continue.

  “For now, let’s look for connections,” he said carefully. “A common thread between the ten families would be telling about the motives behind them.”

  By luck of the draw, the first graphic on my side of the holoscreen belonged to the Bordeaux family. I clicked on the patriarch, Jacques Bordeaux.

  And my jaw dropped.

  No, no. This can’t be right.

  My heart raced like a thundering herd of animals fleeing a predator. I felt like someone had punched me in the gut. My chest was too tight, my lungs too constricted.

  It wasn’t possible. I must have read the date wrong. Or maybe it had been entered incorrectly. I stared at Jacques’ birthday, willing the numbers to change. They didn’t.

  My world started to crumble around me, each piece of rubble crashing on my head.

  Jacques was a teleporter. A teleporter born before the Great Contamination.

  Erik’s head jerked toward me. “Are you sure?” he blurted.

  Crane looked up. “What?” he demanded. “What did you find?”

  I cleared my throat, impressed that my mouth worked. “According to this, there was a Teleporter born before the nuclear spill,” I explained. With two taps, I sent Jacques’ file to the other screens so they could read the truth of my words.

  Silence descended as we each read the scant information on Jacques Bordeaux. He was born on a small island off the coast France. His parents must not have been anyone of consequence; aside from their names, there wasn’t much information on either. Unlike the previous records we’d seen, the observational notes on Jacques were light. There were also notations in shorthand.

  “Do you know what these notes mean?” I glanced between Erik and Crane.

  My boyfriend shook his head. Crane didn’t answer. He appeared lost in deep, dark thoughts.

  “Ian?” Erik prompted.

  Crane still didn’t say anything. He didn’t look the least bit surprised.

  “You knew?” I demanded angrily. “You knew there were people born prior to the Great Contamination who were Talented?”

  My harsh tone got his attention. Crane met my questioning stare.

  “I have heard rumors, yes,” he said carefully. “I know that some, Danbury being one, believed that Talents existed prior to the nuclear spill.”

  “And you?” Erik pressed. “What do you believe?”

  “I believe in facts,” Crane replied. “I believe in evidence. Until this, I’d never seen any proof that our kind existed before the contamination.” Crane shook his head and gestured to the holoscreen.

  “I’m not even sure this is proof,” he continued. “History is full of accounts of the supernatural. Most of those are fabricated. Maybe not intentionally, but they’re still fiction. Just because it has been written, that doesn’t make it true.”

  Erik tapped the holoscreen and a name at the bottom of the Bordeaux family tree lit up. “Okay, then how do you explain that?” he demanded.

  Vester Ozolos.

  “Kip’s last name,” I breathed. “Kip is Jacques’ great-great-great grandson.”

  Silence fell over the room, each of us considering the ramifications of this new development. The Great Contamination wasn’t definitively responsible for the birth of the Talented. Kip was a descendent of a Teleporter born before the spill. I couldn’t decide which was more shocking.

  I wrung my hands, unsure how my next words would go over.

  “I don’t know if we should tell Kip just yet. We don’t really know what this means. And like you said,” I looked at Crane, “this might not be proof of anything.”

  “Don’t you think he has a right to know?” Erik asked me gently. “Wouldn’t you want to know?”

  “Talia’s right,” Crane interjected. “For now, let’s just keep going.”

  When I met Erik’s eyes, he looked away but nodded in agreement. He didn’t like keeping Kip in the dark any more than I did. At the moment, there simply wasn’t a choice. This news was huge. Not just for Kip, but consequential for our entire kind. If talents had existed before the Great Contamination, did that mean everything we’d been told about our origins was a lie?

  “Do you think Jacques is like Patient Zero?” I asked Crane. “You know, the original Talent?”

  He smiled indulgently. “No. I don’t think one man is responsible for our entire race. However, I do have a guess about the what the connection between these families.”

  I was pretty certain I knew, too. Even before a sharp gasp from across the desk drew my gaze to Erik.

  “What is it?” I demanded, mentally preparing myself for more life-changing information to be thrown my way.

  “I think I found your family, Tals,” Erik said softly, gaze still locked on the holoscreen.

  He sent the document to my screen, and I stared at the names of my ancestors. A hollow feeling permeated my gut. It was my father’s family, the Lyons. I didn’t start at the top this time. Instead, I started at the bottom. My parents’ names, Frances and Katerina, were linked by a horizontal line. A vertical line between the two led down to my name.

  “Don’t do this to yourself, Tals,” Erik sent. Ignoring him, I clicked on my own name.

  “I need to know,” I sent back.

  He didn’t press, but Erik didn’t leave my head completely. I didn’t mind, though. Having him with me meant I wasn’t alone, and that was comforting.

  “Talia, I don’t know if you should….”

  Crane’s words fell on deaf ears. I needed to know. Maybe that was hypocritical after I’d just said that we should wait to tell Kip about his family. Still, it wasn’t the most hypocritical thing I’d done or said that day.

  The file opened on my holoscreen, my name and talent classification at the top. No surprises there. The data had even been updated to include my created morphing ability. There were several columns devoted to blood test results, but the information was written in science jargon. I passed over the section with no more than a cursory glance. Scrolling, I reached the observational notes.

  That was when I lost it. At least I would have, if my boyfriend hadn’t interceded. In our time apart, Erik had mastered the ability to control minds.

  “It’s not that big of surprise, Natalia,” Erik sent. His words were heavy, yet they made me feel as though I were floating comfortably. “You knew the Director killed your parents, partially to get you. It only makes sense that he would have been observing you before then.”

  Of course, I thought. A part of me has known for a while that Mac must’ve been watching me from a young age, observing my abilities and documenting my power.

  It took me a minute to realize the thoughts and feelings didn’t really belong to me. At least, I wasn’t the one who’d conjured them. I shook off Erik’s control with considerable will and glared at him across the desk.

  “Really?” I demanded.

  He offered me a half smile. “Letting you lose your shit was the better option? I did what I did for everyone in this room.” His brow furrowed as he reconsidered. “The entire house, actually. You’ve destroyed larger structures.”

  Erik’s tone was light and teasing, clearly an attempt to calm me further. But his comment reminded me of Denna. Her loss of control had killed two people.

  I took a deep
breath. Compartmentalize. Emotions aren’t your friend right now. You can feel something later.

  My hunter’s training took over. I read the rest of the notes with a detached curiosity. There wasn’t anything unexpected, just creepy. Mac had put a tail on me from birth.

  With that same cold calculation, I reviewed my parents’ files. Several times, Erik tried to stop me. He pleaded with me but didn’t use his talents.

  I needed to know. I needed to know all my parents’ secrets. Apparently, there were a lot. Starting with the fact they were both talented.

  “You didn’t know?” Erik’s question wasn’t a question at all. He knew the truth. Still, I felt the need to respond.

  “Um, no. I guess I should have. I mean, I can sense other talents, right? So, it seems like I should’ve known. How did I not know?” I sounded hysterical and didn’t care.

  “It’s okay, Tals. You weren’t trained to use your abilities until you came to the McDonough School, right?” Erik soothed. He wasn’t using compulsion, just his normal talking-down-Talia-when-she-gets-into-one-of-her-moods voice. “Besides, you were around them all the time. You probably figured whatever you felt in their presence was normal.”

  “Or my mother, a fairly strong Mind Manipulator according to this, masked their essences around me,” I retorted angrily.

  For so long, I’d held my parents on a pedestal. I’d believed they were innocent saints when they died. Learning about their involvement with the creation drug had cracked that façade. Discovering that they were Talented and never told me, even as my talents grew beyond my control…that shattered the illusion entirely.

  “It’s not that simple, Talia,” Crane said quietly.

  I rounded on him. “Yes, it is. They told me not to use my abilities. They told me to hide what I was. They knew what I could do, how much I struggled as a child.” I had to bite back a sob. “And they lied to me.”

  “You’re being too hard on them,” Erik insisted.

  “You don’t understand what it was like, Erik.” I shook my head, fuming. “They kept me—“

  “Safe,” Crane finished. “They kept you safe, Talia. If you had been born in the States, things might have been different. But you weren’t. If you had been a Morpher, things might have been different. But you weren’t.” His dark eyes blazed with anger. “You saw what happened at the hospital today with Phi. How Dr. Icaria thought it was okay to hurt a child simply because he possessed a quality she wanted. Mind Manipulators as powerful as you are just as rare as Healers. Don’t forget that.”