Generation 18 (Spook Squad 2)
“Allars was little more than a piece of meat the scientists were using. He was one of eight. He was told nothing and knows nothing—despite the presence of his name on your birth certificate.”
This man knew too much about her. And though he could read her thoughts, she sensed he wasn’t doing that now. “How do you know about the certificate?”
“I sent it to you.”
“No, you didn’t. Jack did.”
His eyes were as shuttered as his face, yet she could almost taste the wariness in him. Its touch was so strong she might have named it fear in any other man.
But this man didn’t fear. Didn’t care.
And how the hell she knew that, she couldn’t honestly say.
“Yes, I know.”
He tilted his head to one side. “You cared for him, didn’t you?”
She dropped her gaze. “He was my friend.” Or at least, she had thought he was—but that had turned out to be another great lie in the story of her life.
“And now?”
“Now I have only my work.” And a partner who didn’t want her.
“Sometimes it is better that way.”
Only a workaholic or the dead would think that. But her private life was not something she wanted to discuss with this man.
“Jack said he got that information from Sethanon. Are you Sethanon?” If he was, she should be shooting him rather than talking to him. Especially when Sethanon was the number-one villain on both the SIU’s and the Federation’s hit lists.
“Sethanon is not a name I ever gave myself.”
Truth or lie? She couldn’t tell, and that worried her. “Allars told me he was involved in a project called Penumbra. That four of the eight involved were a changer, a shifter, a vampire and a werewolf.”
“And the other four were psychically endowed. Mike Shean was a strong telepath and empath. Jeremy Park was a fire-starter. Rae Messner’s gift was psychometry, and Fay Reilly was an emotive.”
She stared at him. “How the hell do you know that?”
“Simple. Because I was there.”
“You were one of the scientists?” She couldn’t help the incredulous note in her voice. She could believe he might have been in the military, but a scientist? No way. This man was a killer, born and bred.
But then, with what she was beginning to learn about Hopeworth, maybe that wasn’t so far off the mark.
He laughed—and it was an oddly familiar sound that scratched at the back of her mind.
“Not a scientist. Not even a test subject.”
“Then what?” If he’d been involved with security, surely he wouldn’t have known so much about the project.
“Samantha, you have all the answers you need. All you have to do is look for them.”
“So, we’re back to the riddles again.” She sipped at her coffee. It was strong and sweet, with just a hint of hazelnut.
“Your favorite, I believe,” he said softly.
This time he was reading her thoughts. She put her coffee down and leaned back, crossing her arms. “Tell me your name.”
He hesitated. “I go by many names these days.”