Penumbra (11 page)

O'Hearn raised an eyebrow, as if surprised by the question. “Humans do have forty-six. Vampires who were once human have forty-eight. Shifters have fifty, changers and weres fifty-two. If any of those becomes a vamp, then they gain an extra pair of chromosomes. You, my dear, have fifty-five.”

“Meaning what?” Sam crossed her arms. The gray ring around the blue of her eyes gleamed ice-bright in the fading light. “You said you detected partial shifter coding, but even with the extra chromosome that still only gives me a max of fifty-three.”

Finley cleared his throat. “The two extra come from the vamp coding we found.”

Gabriel frowned. “I thought you had to undergo the change to gain the extra chromosomes.”

“So did I.” O'Hearn's voice was dry.

“Normally, yes,” Finley said. “But in recent government tests, vamp chromosomes have been successfully introduced into both pig and rat embryos.”

Sam's face echoed the horror Gabriel felt. Government meddling with the very beginnings of life could never be a good thing.

“What the hell is the government doing that for?”

Finley shrugged. “Vampires have what humanity has long searched for—life everlasting.”

Sam snorted. “Yeah, but at what cost?”

“To some, the cost doesn't matter.” Finley hesitated, frowning slightly. “Anyway, while we were trying to decode the unknown strands, I remembered my father once saying he worked with a man who could melt into shadows. Handy, when you were a member of covert operations. At the time, I thought my father meant a vampire, but since AD Stern here questioned me about the existence of shadow walkers, I began to wonder.”

“So you questioned him?” Gabriel interrupted tersely. Finley had a tendency to ramble if left unchecked.

The young doctor nodded. “He confirmed the man was a walker. One of six the Australian military had on the payroll.”

If they were on the payroll, why was there no record of them now? “What happened to them?”

Finley shrugged. “Dad wasn't sure. It seemed they disappeared after the Race Wars.”

Sent to Hopeworth, perhaps? It was certainly a possibility—especially if Sam proved to have walker blood in her.

“Could he point you to anyone who might know more?”

“He did—to two men, actually. Robin Deleware and Frank Lloyd. Deleware died some three years ago, and Lloyd—”

“—is a general stationed at Hopeworth,” Sam muttered. Her gaze met Gabriel's. “That man keeps reappearing.”

And the reason behind Lloyd's interest in Sam was becoming clearer. “Lloyd's not likely to help us.”

“No,” Finley agreed, “but Deleware still might. It appears he was Karl's uncle.”

“On my mother's side,” Karl explained with a grin. “I inherited all his books when he died, you see. Among them were his journals.”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “I thought personal journals were banned in covert operations?”

Karl's grin widened. “Rules are made to be broken, as you should know.”

Ignoring the jibe, Gabriel asked, “So what did the books reveal?”

“The answers, at least to some extent. It appears that both Lloyd and my uncle were involved in the research side of operations. Walkers are mentioned extensively in three of his journals, and then they disappear abruptly.”

Because the walkers themselves disappeared? Or was there a more sinister reason?

Sam shifted slightly on her chair, and her tension was a darkness that crawled through his mind. Her thoughts flashed like fire behind that darkness. He only had to reach out and he could be there, sharing them. But he didn't reach out. He didn't dare. He had a feeling that if he breached them one more time—as he had when he'd used their bond to find her at the condemned hospital—he would never again be able to raise the barriers that had protected him for so long against the psychic bond of his twin, and the more recent one he'd developed with Sam. “What did the journals say?”

“For a start, they noted that the walkers had an extra chromosome, one that resembled an S. While it had no pair, it seemed able to fuse itself onto the X and Y pairings. To what purpose, we have no idea, but it's exactly what we've seen in Samantha.”

“All of which means squat to me.” She hesitated, drinking the remainder of her scotch in one quick gulp. “Nor does it really tell us what the hell walkers were.”

Karl smiled. “I suppose it's hard to get excited if you're not a scientist. From what the journals say, walkers were not, in fact, human—not even in the sense that changers and shifters are human. They are, in fact, an entirely new species rather than a human offshoot.”

Other than a slight leeching of color from her face, there was no immediate reaction from Sam. But her shock clubbed at Gabriel's mind, almost numbing in its intensity.

“Not human in what way?” she said, her voice soft and tightly controlled.

“They were elementals—the essence of nature itself. There were apparently four types—sun, earth, wind and water.”

“Then a sun elemental could, say, control a fire, or even appear to swallow it?” Gabriel said, remembering the story he'd read in the archives. And a water elemental could control a storm, using the lightning as a weapon, as Sam had done.

Karl nodded. “Each walker was the master of his element. Their ability to disappear into shadows came from the fact that they were more energy beings rather than flesh. Vampires disappear into shadows by exerting psychic pressure on the human sense of sight, making it appear as if the shadows have wrapped around them. A walker merely loses his human shape, reverting to an energy form.”

Sam scrubbed a hand across her eyes. “So basically, what you're saying here is that
I'm
not human? That I never was?” She hesitated, swallowing heavily. “How is that even possible? I'm not made of energy, for Christ's sake. I'm flesh and blood.”

“Sam, you have human elements in your coding, the same as a changer, a shifter or even a were.” O'Hearn's voice was gentle, almost soothing. “But the dominant coding in your DNA seems to be what we presume is walker coding.”

“If the walkers were all-powerful, why even bother patching in changer or were coding? It's not as if I can shift or change.” Sam ran a hand through her hair, eyes a little wild.

She didn't want to be anything more than human, Gabriel realized. She might want to discover her past, but in many respects she feared it, too. Or, rather, feared discovering just what she might be—and what she could do. And while that fear was totally understandable, if what O'Hearn was suggesting was true—and he had no doubt that it was—then it was more important than ever that they press forward on the quest to discover who had made her, and why.

Because not only was the military now interested in her, but someone far worse also held an interest. Sethanon.

“But you
can
channel the power of the storms,” O'Hearn continued softly. “Which suggests, perhaps, that the walker strands
are
dominant.”

“Meaning I'm likely to dissolve into darkness at any given minute?”

The silence seemed filled with sudden tension, and Gabriel wondered why.

Finley cleared his throat. “As a matter of fact, you have already begun to fade.”

“What the hell are you on, Finley?” Gabriel snapped. Sam was sitting there, as plain as day, despite the darkness that had gathered in the office. He could see the fear in her blue-gray eyes, the whiteness of her knuckles as she clasped her hands in her lap.

O'Hearn and Karl shared a look. Karl waved a hand in Sam's direction. “You can see her?”

Stupid question—wasn't it? “Yeah.” He frowned. “You honestly can't?”

“No,” Karl said, and glanced at O'Hearn again. “It's as we thought.”

“Yes.” O'Hearn sighed.

Gabriel took a deep breath to calm a surge of anger. “Would you three kindly explain what the hell is going on?”

“Sorry, my friend, but we just had to be sure.” Karl held up a hand as Gabriel opened his mouth to make a retort. “My uncle's journals had one very interesting side note about walkers. They come as a pair. They have to, apparently. If a walker does not have a base—someone to call them back, if you like—there is a huge risk of them becoming lost in the powers they seek to control.”

Something cold washed through him.
You are her anchor, her reality,
Jess had warned. “I'm not a walker.”

“No,” O'Hearn agreed. “But I've talked to your father, and I checked your genetic background. It's highly possible that there is walker blood in your line.”

“Meaning what?” The question came out harsh and was, in some ways, inane. He understood the implications clearly enough. He just didn't want to face them.

“Meaning,” Karl said softly, “that it's possible that you and Sam are destined to be a pair, and there's not one damn thing either of you can do about it.”

S
AM MET
G
ABRIEL'S GAZE.
T
HOUGH
there was absolutely no emotion on his face or in his hazel eyes, his horror washed through her mind like lava.

He'd spent half his life fighting a similar bond with his twin, and he was not likely to accept it with her.

Not that
she
wanted to be tied to anyone right now, either. Her social life might suck, but being alone was far better than being forced into the company of a man who didn't want to be there.

Damn it,
why was
nothing
ever simple in her life?

Right now, she wasn't sure whether she should laugh or cry or rant at the heavens and fate itself for throwing so many wrenches her way…

She glanced back to Karl. “What exactly did your uncle say about the walker pairing?”

Karl sipped his coffee, as if considering the question. Though it was more likely he was considering how to phrase his reply without upsetting anyone, she decided.

“He said it was destiny. That, in much the same manner as a shapechanger, they pair for life. They share thoughts, and to a lesser extent, powers—and even when apart, they know what the other is feeling or doing.”

“Two halves of a whole,” Gabriel murmured. But he wasn't looking at her, wasn't looking at anyone. His gaze was withdrawn, internal. He was seeing—remembering—things to which none of them were privy.

And yet his words sent a chill through her. Joe had said that exact same thing more than once. And he certainly
hadn't
been referring to Gabriel and her.

“So simply because Gabriel can see me when I fade into shadow, you're presuming he's my…what did you call it? Base?”

Karl nodded. “That, plus the fact that you've formed a connection, despite Gabriel's efforts to stop it.”

“A connection that is entirely one-sided, I assure you.” Which was not exactly true, but, damn it, she couldn't help fighting the finality of Karl's words. Life had thrown some pretty shitty things at her lately, but being stuck with a man who really didn't want her in his life had to be one of the worst.

And it didn't matter a damn just how much she was attracted to him. Being forced together would destroy any chance she had of changing his mind.

“Since your abilities are still in their growth stage, perhaps that is to be expected,” O'Hearn said.

But her abilities
weren't
in their growth stage—not if what she was now seeing in the dreams were to be believed. “Or it could be taken as a sign that you are way off course.”

“Maybe. But when you add the fact that Gabriel shares your pain when you've been injured, I think it's pretty conclusive.” O'Hearn hesitated, her gray gaze eagle sharp. “You might be interested to know that, now that we've noted your fading, you've become solid.”

“A subconscious reaction rather than conscious,” Finley murmured. “Interesting.”

Sam glanced down—not that the lower half of her body looked any different now than it had a few minutes ago, when she'd apparently become one with the darkness. She met O'Hearn's gaze again. “If I do have walker genes that are beginning to assert themselves, then there's another possibility. Base-wise, I mean.”

O'Hearn frowned. “What?”

Sam glanced at Gabriel. There was a sudden stillness about him that spoke of…not shock, not anger, but a weird mix that was both. Suddenly she wished she'd never spoken. Hell, she didn't even
know
who Joe was. He could be a mortal enemy of everyone in this room.
She
could be, for all she knew. She swallowed to ease the sudden dryness in her throat.

“I mean that I'm in telepathic contact with another man. I have been for months.”
Years.
“He seems to know an awful lot about me, and he's said more than once that we're two halves of a whole.”

Gabriel didn't move, didn't physically react. But his gaze burned into hers, and his tension washed through her mind. Tension, and something else—something she couldn't define.

“Who is this man?” His voice was soft, as devoid of emotion as his face.

It was a shame she couldn't say the same about the link they seemed to have developed. She rubbed her arms. “I don't know. He tells me his name is Joe Black, but it's an alias. There's no information on record for a Joe Black matching his description.”

“Then you've met him?”

She hesitated. “I had coffee with him. He's a shapechanger. His other form is a crow.”

“I see.”

She had a horrible feeling that crows had just made his hit list, which made no sense. Surely he should be happy that there was a possibility that he wasn't her base. That there was someone else who might fill that role. He didn't want ties of any kind—not with his twin and certainly not with her.

O'Hearn cleared her throat softly. “You've never mentioned this before.”

She shrugged. “I never thought it was important before.”

The doctor glanced at Karl. “This puts an interesting spin on things. Did the journals mention anything else about the pairings?”

Karl shook his head. “Regretfully, no. As I said, the mention of the pairing was little more than a side note.”

“Well, we certainly need to find out more about Mr. Black.”

“Leave that to me,” Gabriel said, his voice a monotone.

O'Hearn raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. “I'd also like to perform some tests with you both. See just how strong the connection is between you.”

“We also need to perform tests,” Finley added, “to define your psychic talents and strengths.”

Sam frowned as his words brought back memories of the dream. Memories of being chained to a chair while the flames licked her face and the trauma and anger it had caused. The deaths
she'd
caused as a result.

If
the dream was to be believed, that is.

But even if it wasn't, there'd been too many tests in her life already. She really didn't want to do any more. Yet if she wanted answers, what other choice did she have? Still, that didn't mean she had to be an overly willing guinea pig, either.

“That might be difficult, given my current assignment.”

Especially since whatever spare time she
did
have she wanted to spend down in Kingston fixing up her house, not hanging around either SIU's or O'Hearn's labs. As much as she wanted to discover who and what she was, she also longed to get on with her life. She'd already been in a holding pattern for far too long. For the first time, she actually had something she was
excited
about.

Besides, what was the point of discovering how strong the connection between her and Gabriel was when he had every intention of fighting it?

“Surely you can spare an hour or so a day.” Finley's tone suggested she was a fool if she didn't. But then, he was the scientist, not the lab rat.

“Maybe.” She glanced at her watch. She was due to meet Wetherton at his office by six thirty. If she left now, she'd not only make it there with time to spare, but she'd beat the storm brewing outside. And how she knew
that
without even turning around to look was something she didn't want to think about right now. “Look, can we wrap this up soon? I really have to get going.”

O'Hearn nodded. “Shall we book you both in for Friday, then? After lunch, perhaps?”

Sam sighed. “Try three. That'll give me time to catch up on sleep after my shift.”

The doctor nodded, her gaze on Sam's. Not meeting it, just
looking
at it. Sam raised an eyebrow and said, “What?”

“The blue in your eyes is receding as the night falls. The silver is growing brighter.”

“There's a storm gathering outside,” Karl commented. “If storms are her element, then that could be an indicator of power.”

“Or maybe just a sign that it's easier to see the silver in my eyes at night.” And yet, even though her back was to the window, the electricity of the oncoming storm danced across her skin, filling her with power, energy.

And
that
was terrifying.

Sam rose. “Let's continue this Friday, then.”

“Gabriel, perhaps you'd better escort—”

She held up her hand, halting Karl before he could finish. “I'm a big girl now. I don't need a nanny.”

“But the storm—”

“Is just a storm, like a thousand other storms I've walked through before without harm.” Something clunked at her feet, and she looked down to see her phone had somehow fallen out of her pocket. As she reached down to pick it up, she noted the tiny sparks leaping from finger to finger. As if the storm's energy had filled her to overflowing.

She wrapped her hand around the phone, hiding her fingertips in the process. Maybe it was a stupid reaction since she was here to discover answers, but right now, she just wanted out. Wanted time to contemplate everything she'd been told—the worst of which was not the fact that she was something other than human, but rather that she could be eternally tied to a man who—no matter what his sister might think—wanted nothing to do with her.

She straightened and gave the watching scientists a tight smile. “I'll see you all Friday.”

“Be careful,” Karl said. “If you
are
a walker and the storm is your element, you could find yourself lost in its power without even realizing it was happening.”

“The walker gene might appear dominant, Karl, but it is only one part,” O'Hearn said. “Don't you think the nonhuman mix might mute its force?”

Karl shrugged. “Until we do more tests, we don't know.”

“So, I'll be careful.” Sam glanced at Gabriel. He didn't say anything, just looked at her with an annoyed light in his eyes. Yeah, he was
really
pleased with the turn of events—and Jessie, for all her clairvoyance, had to have been mistaken. She turned and walked out the door.

It wasn't until she stood outside the building that she remembered she hadn't asked Finley about the tests on Wetherton's would-be assassin. She half-turned to go back inside, then stopped and took a long, shuddering breath. She couldn't do it. She couldn't face them all again. Not yet. She could ring Finley later, or send him an email or something. Right now, she desperately needed time alone to absorb everything she'd been told.

God,
that was
so
not the result she'd been expecting.

It was finally confirmed. She
wasn't
human. She was something else. Something created in a lab somewhere and brought up in clinical surroundings. But to what end? That was the question she had to seek an answer to, though her last dream was perhaps an indicator. Hopeworth had been playing in the genetic and psychic sandbox for some time, trying to create the perfect soldier, the perfect weapon. And her dreams indicated that she'd begun training to control her abilities at a very young age.

But if her walker genes were the strongest, did that mean she wasn't a product of Hopeworth? Her birth certificate—her
real
one, not the fake one that had been placed into the system the day she'd appeared on the steps of the State Care center for orphaned kids—gave the names of the eight people who were her “parents.” None of them were walkers, but shifters and psychics.

So if she was a product of the Penumbra project, as they were all presuming, where in hell did the walker strain come from?

The “real” certificate could be a fake, of course. But she had confirmation of both the project and the people involved from a man and a woman who were at Hopeworth at the time of Penumbra. She even had confirmation, albeit from a woman with memory problems, about her presence there. But that same project had been totally—and perhaps a little conveniently—destroyed by fire, so there were no records available to confirm anything they were told.