If Simon Sito fathered a child, was that child superhuman? Was that child Paulson? If so, what could Paulson do? Or was he like her—a dud?
“I’d have thought you’d be resting.” Dr. Mentis stood in the doorway. “You’re still injured, even if you don’t want to admit it.”
Her face burned in a panicked flush. Quickly, she shut down the computer file. She hadn’t heard Arthur enter the room. She’d been too wrapped up. Or he moved too quietly. Or he’d convinced her mind that she didn’t hear him. Paranoid, paranoid …
Either in response to his suggestion, or her own shock, a headache launched itself through her skull. The stitches on her cut throbbed; she could feel them.
“I had a couple of things to look up.” She had no reason to feel guilty. She’d been invited here.
“What have you found?”
The source of all your power. “I’m still not sure. I’ve been digging into Sito’s assets for DA Bronson, but I’ve opened a couple cans of worms.”
“I’d have thought that would have been old news by now. We have more urgent questions, don’t you think?”
She hesitated to ponder those questions, and how the one connected to the other, when he could see those thoughts laid bare.
“I’ve been to see Mayor Paulson,” he continued. “I came in with the crowd for his press conference this morning. I was hoping to learn what was behind all those snappy sound bites and high ideals he’s always spouting off about. Do you know what I found?”
“What?”
He started pacing a long, slow circuit around the room. “Nothing. I found absolutely nothing at all. His mind was blank to me. I couldn’t read him.”
Just like the Destructor. Like Sito. She now recognized the tension in Arthur’s frame—he was afraid. That knowledge tingled across her skin. Dr. Mentis was never afraid. He was never anything.
“Oh my God.”
“You know what it means, don’t you? You’ve suspected it for some time.”
“I’d rather not talk about it. I still don’t know anything for sure.”
“That’s a bit disingenuous. You know plenty, but you’re not saying what.”
She wouldn’t fall into that trap. She wouldn’t say a damn word.
He didn’t stop walking. “Celia, what are you trying to hide?”
Nothing, she wanted to say, but didn’t. She wondered why she didn’t just say it, knowing Arthur could read the thought behind her eyes. My grandfather and Simon Sito worked together to create superhuman mutations.
“I’m not trying to hide anything. I just—I just want to be sure before I say it.”
“I’m worried.”
The fact that he’d admit to an emotion of any kind shook her. “There’s a lot to worry about.”
“I’m worried about you. You worked so hard to get yourself away from all this, and here you are, back in the middle. And you put yourself here. I hope you’re not trying to prove something.”
And she knew. The thought was simply there, and it wasn’t hers. You are more important to me than anything.
“So what if I am?” she said, her voice cracking. “You don’t have to ask any questions. You just know.”
“I try to be polite.”
He always said that. But this didn’t feel like politeness. It wasn’t enough for him to read the answer in her thoughts, he wanted her to say it. This inspired in her a contrary desire to push him. What would she have to say, how mean would she have to be, before he reacted? That was the teenager again, the angry girl Celia had never quite escaped. She shouldn’t be like that, not with him. There was a time he’d been her only friend.
“Maybe I’d like to try and keep a few secrets. I don’t have much of anything else.”
Mentis stopped pacing and laughed softly, as sinister an expression as she’d heard from any criminal. “There are no secrets around me.”