He rubbed her back. “Evil Owen. Don’t tell my team about him. They’ll believe you.” He chuckled. He looked down at her, brushing a stray curl from her face. “I do know what end’s up. So until we unscramble you, maybe you could rely on me?”
She nodded.
“And also, I’m just putting this out there, there’s a psychologist in town who’s a solid guy. He did great with Rocco—he’s still going to him. If you ever want to see him, I can take you there or bring him here.”
She leaned back and looked up at Owen. Her eyes had to be some crazy color, for he looked shocked seeing them. This was all still too raw for her. She was dealing with her very soul here. It was too soon—and she was too fragile—to trust it with someone else. “Can we just start with you for a while?”
“You bet.” He pulled on the black T-shirt he’d been holding. “Hey, I was thinking you must be starving. Why don’t we go say goodnight to Troy, then snag something from the kitchen? We’ve already used up our cuddle time, and we’ll have to meet with the Ratcliffs soon.”
She smiled, relieved he understood how much seeing her son would reset her. Addy nodded then looked at herself in the mirror and realized she hadn’t started her makeup, then remembered she didn’t have to. She gave Owen a little smile and left the bathroom. He followed her into the hallway. His feet were bare. She had the feeling he was completely at home just as he was.
She could learn from that.
He reached for her hand as they went up the backstairs in their wing. Neither of them spoke as they made the long trek through the core of the house to the far bedroom wing where Rocco and Mandy had their suite of rooms. The couple was on the sofa in their sitting room, watching TV.
Mandy smiled as they approached. “Hey, you two.” She and Rocco got up to greet them.
“We wanted to say goodnight to Troy,” Owen said.
“Great timing. We just put them to bed,” Mandy replied.
“I hope Troy hasn’t been any trouble for you,” Addy said.
“No trouble at all. He never is.”
Mandy and Addy started toward Zavi’s room, but Owen stopped Mandy. “Can I have a quick word?”
“Sure,” Mandy said. “Addy, go on in. I’m sure they’re still awake.”
When Addy left, Owen looked at Mandy.
“How are things going?” she asked quietly.
He looked from her to Rocco, then shoved his hands in his pockets. “Fine. Look, do you remember bringing in clothes for the ladies? Seemed like for a bit we kept needing extra things.”
“I do.”
“Any chance there’s a pair of pajamas or something casual that might fit Addy?”
“Oh, I’m sure there is. What does she need?”
Owen shrugged. “Something slouchy.”
“Yeah, we’ve got that somewhere. I’ll dig it up and take it to your room…her room?”
“Her room. We’re going to get some late dinner.”
“Wynn said she wanted us all there when she met with her parents…or whoever they are,” Rocco said. “Russ just took a meal tray to them, so you’ve got a little time.”
“I intended for us all to be there anyway,” Owen said. “The time’s over for hiding this shit, now that we’re all targets.”
“Casey’s coming up to hang with the boys when we meet,” Mandy said. “Hey, do you think Addy might enjoy some riding lessons? Could be a good distraction.”
Owen blinked as he stared at her. Rocco’s woman was spot-on. “Yeah. I think that may just be exactly what she needs.”
Addy came back in the room. “What do I need?”
“Riding lessons,” Mandy said. “There’s something about spending time on a horse that puts the world into perspective. Do you know how to ride?”
“I did ages ago, when I was a kid. I haven’t gone riding in forever. Do you do English or Western?”
“Western.”
“I never learned that.”
“Same principles, just a little different practice. Want to try?”
“Yes. That would be fun, actually.”
“Yay! I have some free spots tomorrow. I’ll come get you.”
“Can Troy join us?”
“Of course,” Mandy said. “But in the beginning, let’s work on each of you separately. We’ll work up toward a trail ride with a whole bunch of us.”
Addy smiled. A real smile, Owen noticed, not one of the placating fake ones she’d cultivated, which he fucking hated.
“I can’t wait,” she said. “Thanks, Mandy.”
They went down the stairs in Rocco’s wing, then headed for the kitchen. The lights had been dimmed, as it had been shut down for the night. Owen turned them up, then went searching in the fridge for something for them to eat. “Looks like stroganoff was dinner tonight. Sound good? Or do you want me to make some sandwiches.”
“Stroganoff, please,” Addy said.
“Works for me.” He took some out and heated it up, then dished it out for both of them, making sure their portions were equal. He took a bite, then moaned. Russ was a helluva cook. They sat on tall stools at the counter that overlooked the sink.
“There’s no way I can eat all of this. I’ll get fat.”
He shrugged. “Eat what you want.” He took another bite, watching her eat. “You know, I don’t care if you’re fat. I don’t care what you wear. I don’t care if you have makeup on or not. I care about the real you. I care that your soul’s near mine and neither of us is alone.”
“I’m not sure I still have a soul.”
He smiled. “You do. It’s in there. I’m glad you’re going riding with Mandy.”
“I’m looking forward to that.”
They ate in silence for bit. Owen went around the counter to get them both some water. “Can I ask you something?” He ran the tap.
“Sure.”
“Who’s Troy’s father? It’s not Edwards.”
“I don’t know.”
Owen frowned. “How can you not know?”
“He was conceived at one of Cecil’s rape parties.”
“Fuck.” All kinds of questions jumped to Owen’s mind, but he thought he’d peeled off enough of her layers for one night. Or maybe he wasn’t ready to hear the story.
“Yeah.” She pushed some noodles around on her plate. “I think it may have been a guy Cecil called his War Bringer.”
He looked at her. “That guy’s dead. He tried to initiate Fiona and Kelan killed him.”
Addy looked at him. Her beautiful and changing eyes went from glowing blue to orange. “Good.”
“You don’t seem to hold any resentment toward Troy for his origins.”
“I don’t. I love my boys. Even when I thought Augie was Cecil’s, I loved him. They’re so innocent, Owen.” She sighed, then looked at her plate for a minute. “Do you think blood runs true?”
“How so?”
“Do you think Troy will be like his father?”
Owen shook his head. “Not possible. You got him away from Edwards early enough. And you’ve taught him kindness. He may well grow up to be a warrior, but I can’t see him fighting on the same side as his bio dad.”
Owen’s phone buzzed. He looked at the text. “The people claiming to be Wynn’s parents are coming down to meet with us. If you’re okay with it, I’d like you there. They might know something that could help you.”
“Yes, I’d like that. Maybe they can explain what’s happening. Guess it’s good I dressed after all.”
“You could have met with them in jammies. Wouldn’t have been good for my concentration, but you’d have been comfortable.” He smiled when she laughed, glad he’d talked her down from her panic earlier. That had been a terrifying thing to watch.
22
Angel let himself in to Wynn’s apartment. When she saw him, she grabbed him in a big hug. He held her tight, wondering how he’d ever lived without her. After a minute, he pulled back. She knew it was time for the meeting. She ran her hands over her ha
ir, then straightened her sweater and smoothed her jeans.
“My God,” she said. “I’m so nervous. Are you sure it’s them?”
“No. Not at all. They look like they’re my age. Nowhere near old enough to be your parents.”
“How is that possible? Do they think we’d be easily fooled by imposters?”
“We’ll have their DNA results back in a couple of days. We’ll compare it to yours.” He gave her a half-grin. “You know, fuck Owen. You don’t have to meet them if you don’t want to. I’ll keep them locked up in the bunker while we get this sorted out.”
She lowered her gaze to the fleece pullover he wore. “If I hadn’t seen what happened to Addy, I wouldn’t believe any of this was possible.” She met his eyes. “I’m ready to talk to them.”
“I’ll let Kit know we’re ready.” Angel sent a text.
Wynn’s nerves tightened as they went into the living room. Selena was the first to join them, then the others came in. Max and Greer were the last, bringing the couple who said they were her parents. Wynn studied them, bombarded by so many thoughts simultaneously. The pain of losing them, the shock of moving in with Grams, sorrow that Grams had passed just weeks before seeing them again, worry about how they’d survived the Omnis, anger that they’d chosen their jobs over her. Fear that it might not be real. Everything. It all locked her up. She couldn’t speak. Didn’t reach for their hands to return their offered handshakes when introductions were made. Joyce and Nathan Ratcliff. They used her parents’ names; they looked exactly as they had in the photo of them she had…but they weren’t her parents.
They were talking to her, but the words slipped away. She tried to recall what their eyes looked like in her memories. But what they’d seemed like to an eleven-year-old was nothing like what they seemed to her as an adult. She saw sorrow and guilt in theirs. Was that acting? Had Jafaar picked random people to have cosmetic surgery so that they looked like the old pictures of her parents? Why? Why had they left her? Why had they come back?
She looked at Angel, afraid she wasn’t ready after all. He put his arm around her. “Why don’t we all sit down?” he suggested. “This isn’t something easily understood. I’m sure it’s overwhelming to everyone.”
Wynn and Angel sat on the sofa, across from the people posing as her parents. Angel kissed her temple and squeezed her hand, then whispered, “Breathe, baby. We’ll sort this out.”
“Start at the beginning,” Wynn ordered. She rubbed her thumb over the butterfly that Mr. Edwards had carved into her palm.
The couple exchanged glances, then Joyce focused on Wynn as she started their story. “Your father and I were doing groundbreaking work in the field of gene therapy using bio-nanotechnology. We presented our work at a conference and were approached by a venture capitalist that wanted to hire us. He had deep pockets. We were tempted by his offer. His financing could take our work light years beyond where it was.”
The man continued. “We didn’t take his offer, however. There was just something off about him. His company was new. The man himself, and the principals he listed, had no history in our field or any other scientific venture. Sometimes, if something’s too good to be true, it is. We sent him packing.”
“Or we thought we did,” the woman said. “When we turned him down, things got ugly. He gave us two choices. Go to work for him, and he would spare you and Grams. Or resist and he would kill you both and still take us.”
Wynn listened intently. All of it made sense with what she now knew of the Omni world, but that didn’t mean any of it was true. She refused to be duped simply because she desperately wanted their story to be true…wanted her parents back in her life…wanted the world to be not quite so evil.
“There were so many times we tried to leave,” the woman said. “Every one of them was met with renewed threats against you and Grams. They bought a house near you. Let us see you from a distance. We went to your high school graduation. We visited your college, saw you walking around campus. Went to that graduation ceremony, too. Never were we allowed to speak to you, though there were times we walked right past you. It was hell, but it was wonderful getting to at least keep tabs on you.”
“Thirteen years,” Wynn said. “That’s how long you were gone. Thirteen years. In all that time, you couldn’t have reached out?”
“We made sure Grams had money for you,” the man said.
“Did she know?” Wynn asked.
“I wonder about that. She was presented with the trust fund for your and her support shortly after our deaths,” he said.
“That fire in the lab that ‘killed’ you,” Wynn said, using air quotes, “killed a lot more than you. It destroyed careers and ended the reputation of the business you worked for.”
The woman nodded. “It would have taken many more lives had we not cooperated. The people who had us meant business.”
“And you couldn’t get word out to the cops or the FBI or someone that you were being held against your will?”
The woman sighed. She looked at the man. “We tried. Several times. Each time, something bad happened to you or Grams. Remember Grams’ car accident? Remember the flu that sent you to the hospital? Remember Grams’ stroke?”
Wynn shut her eyes, chilled by the near-death experiences these people knew about. Still, someone doing background research on her would have turned them up. Nothing in her life had been hidden.
“So you were responsible for Grams’ stroke?” Angel asked. Wynn was glad he did, because she couldn’t have voiced that question.
“Not directly. But indirectly, yes,” the woman said.
“Explain yourself,” Owen said.
“We heard there were fighters here who are taking a stand against the Omnis,” the woman said. “We thought we had a chance to get out if we could contact you.”
“The chemical they gave to Grams was meant only to induce a coma,” the man said. “But that coma caused a blood clot that triggered the stroke. When that happened, we went on strike. We refused to continue working, and we shut down our lab at a critical point. In order to get us back online with their program, we negotiated for the ability to treat Grams. They moved Grams out of the palliative care center and into a private residence under their control.”
Wynn gasped. “Grams said she saw you there. I thought it was just a dream she had. Of course, she couldn’t have known you were imposters.”
“We aren’t imposters, Wynn,” the woman said. “We are your parents.”
Wynn let that slide. She didn’t have enough information yet to argue the point. For now, she was going with the imposter theory. “So you did something to her. You’re why she recovered so completely.”
“And we’re why she died,” the man said.
“How so?” Owen asked.
“They kept her sedated for your visits,” the woman said, “but we were seeing remarkable recovery from her. Her cells were regenerating. The man holding her, Jafaar Majid, saw the power of the work we’d been doing. He wanted it for his employer. He tried to negotiate with a man named Mr. Edwards for the franchise. Apparently it was denied him. He ordered Grams to be murdered for two reasons. He wanted to strike back against the Omnis, weakening their hold on us. And, we think, he wanted a corpse so that he could begin reverse-engineering what we’d done to Grams.”
“You gave Grams the same regenerative modifications that you gave yourself, which is why you look so young,” Owen said. The couple nodded. “But you aren’t immortal.”
Wynn looked at him. Where was he headed with this?
“No. We can be killed, just like any other living organism,” the man said.
“But it can take more to kill us,” the woman added. “If we sustain a mortal injury, and receive life support quickly enough, our bodies can regenerate and heal.”
Owen looked at Addy, then back at the couple. “One of our own has been modified. Can you tell me if the modifications you developed were the ones given to her?”
The woman n
odded. “We’ll need a blood sample, but yes.”
“Our lab wasn’t the only one at work on these modifications,” the man said. “The Omnis had dozens of labs going. Some of their work was successful, some not. Didn’t stop them from testing it on human subjects…often without proper protocols.”
“What was their objective with these human modifications?” Ty asked.
The woman pressed her lips together and sighed. “They wanted to engineer the perfect human. But they had several ideals they wanted configured. The perfect warrior. The perfect servant. The perfect mother. And, just in general, the perfect life—long, healthy.”
“And they wanted it done in a way that could be commoditized,” the man said.
“What does that mean?” Wynn asked.
“They wanted a corner on the market,” Ty said. “They wanted to control the market. Can you imagine the value of these human modifications? To live forever? To live forever in good health? To be able to decide who gets to live forever?”
The man nodded. “That’s the franchise Jafaar wanted for his employers. He’s willing to kill for it, and so are the Omnis.”
“We were told the Omnis are cleaning house and eliminating their researchers,” Owen said.
“It’s true,” the woman said. “They don’t want to risk these formulas slipping out into the wider population. They won’t even file a patent on them for risk of exposing their secrets.”
“So are these modifications truly epigenetic?” Angel asked. “Can they be passed down from parents to children?”
“In some cases,” the man said. “They can be passed from mother to child. It’s complicated. The ability to procreate is severely limited in those who’ve been modified. Once the shots are started, they have to be continually renewed, as the nanotechnology wears down inside the human body. Once started, especially on older patients, if the nanos are not renewed, the body begins aging at a rapid rate, one that sends it into shock and shuts it down. One lab has discovered how to trigger this rapid demise even on young patients.” He looked around at the group, then stopped at Owen. “This has the potential to be an extinction event if it’s not stopped…or if the antidote isn’t widely available at every hospital and clinic and remote medical outpost in the world.”
Forsaken Duty, The Red Team Series, Book 9 Page 21