The Eve Genome (9 page)

Did you know our genes represent only 2 per cent of the DNA in our chromosomes? The other 98 per cent is non-coded DNA. Scientists still don’t know the purpose of this non-coding DNA.

-Your World, Biotechnology & You

CHAPTER EIGHT

ADRIANA SINCLAIR

              We were almost at the edge of the slum. I drove this time so he could get in and out of the car with ease, in the event of another incident like the one in the back ally. It was my last chance to ask before we went in.

              “Why did your eyes turn red back there?” I asked.

              He looked down. “Internal cranial pressure. It happens only when I do something out of the ordinary. You know. Use my super powers.”

              I laughed at his attempt at a joke, even though he looked grim. “Does this happen often?”

              “No. But remember, I’ve only started to accept and use these abilities. Maybe it’ll go away, or maybe it’ll get worse. I don’t know.”

              “What about Marcus? Do his eyes do it?”

              He contemplated for a moment. “Come to think of it, I’ve never seen it happen. But maybe that’s because I have to try so hard. It comes easy to him.”

              Finally, an off-ramp led to the worst part of Denver. I pulled onto it.

“This is a bad idea,” Kalan said. “I don’t think we should go in there.”

I scrutinized the deteriorating brick walls of the King George hotel, the one the hobo attacker directed us to. It was a six-story structure, each floor with smashed windows and graffiti-riddled brick.

              I parked Kalan’s car on the side of the deserted road.

“We’ve come all this way, and if we leave now, we’ll have no more answers than we did yesterday,” I said.

              “Yeah, well, yesterday I didn’t know my mother lived on skid row.”

              I set my hand on his arm. Sunlight caught his silvery eyes and exaggerated the high contrast of his pitch-black pupil. “She doesn’t live on skid row. She lives in an abandoned hotel. That’s the lap of luxury for a squatter.”

              Kalan chuckled. “Good one.”

              His smile made me feel better. He might have strange, scary powers reminiscent of some kind of mutant superhero, but at his core I was certain Kalan was a good, decent man. “I know it’s dangerous, but we made it through last time, didn’t we? With my killer roundhouse and your freaky strength, I’m sure we can get through it.”

              Kalan nodded. “We may not be so lucky this time.”

              “I need to know the truth. I need to understand the truth about me and my blood and why you and Marcus are the way you are. You heard the homeless guy. If we don’t find out, we’re probably going to have G-Men on our tails for the rest of our lives.”

              “If I believed they really were G-men, I’d feel relieved.”

              “Who do you think they are?” I asked. “Scientists, like my grandmother and great-aunt believe?”

              “I don’t know.” Kalan’s expression was odd and unreadable as he cleared his throat. “Probably. Scientists with a very specific agenda.”

              I took a deep breath and let it out in a long puff. “We aren’t going to figure this out without going in there. It’s time.”

              Kalan took in a long, deep breath. “Okay.”

              We got out, entwined our hands and set off across the road, toward the abandoned hotel. On the front, the door was held on with a jerry-rigged nail and wire. Kalan unlatched it, and squeezed my hand. “Are you sure about this?”

              “I’m sure.”

We plunged into the darkness of the former lobby.

              The wooden check-in desk remained intact, but it had holes in the frame and was covered in graffiti. The floor appeared to be pale white marble but was hardly visible through the dirt, dust and grime smeared on top.

“Where are the people?” I whispered. Surely with this much floor space, there would be a few people squatting down here?

“I don’t know.” Kalan tugged at my hand. “Let’s go up?”

I nodded. To the left was a spiral staircase, part wrought iron and part wood that snaked around to the second floor. The marble stairs were so worn from use they were in a permanent u-shape.

              The higher we climbed, the darker it got, with the only light coming through a few tiny windows near the top floor. With each step, more clutter tripped us. A shoe, used needles, charred aluminum foil, and food garbage including tin cans, milk jugs and rotting vegetable matter. The stench was unlike anything I’d smelled before, far worse even than the hoodlums in the back ally. It more closely resembled a combination of feces and vomit—after hours of cooking in a crock-pot. My guts churned. 

I stumbled—a stuffed toy? Kalan grabbed my elbow to keep me from falling directly on top of it, but not before I got a closer look. Bile backed up my throat at the sight of the dead cat.

“Ugh!” I squeaked. My attempts to stay quiet made my voice crack.

“Here. Come over on this side near the banister,” Kalan said.

I stepped to the other side of the staircase, where it appeared to have a more used path with less garbage.

“God, it stinks,” I said. I trudged up, wary of touching the banister. Finally, we neared the second floor.

The emptiness of the vacant first floor was at complete odds with the shoulder-to-shoulder people of the second floor. I could barely see in the dim light that shone through the few small windows, but what I did see chilled me to the core. Bone-thin, most of them, in varying states of illness and disease. The smell here only added a new element—the stench of urine and human decay.

The burgundy carpet that had once covered this floor was now deteriorated to the point where in some places it was a fine brown dust. Wood shone through at various bald patches as well as a blue-coloured foam underlay that was broken off into cotton-ball sized chunks. The fancy velvet brocade wallpaper was mostly peeled off, with only a small jagged strip remaining around the top where hands couldn’t reach.

Directly in the middle of the room was charred wood and ashes, the remains of a fire. Ringing it were sleeping bags in primary colours, domed tents, dolls and toys and numerous full garbage bags.

My skin crawled. Every lucid gaze fixed on me and Kalan. The whites of those eyes shone in the dimness, amplifying the filth of their skin and hair.

Could Kalan’s mother be here?

A low hum of muttering and various movements began. Kalan must have taken this as a cue, because his voice, strong and sure, rang out.

“I’m looking for my mother. Her name is Genevieve. Some people may know her as Jennie.”

Another rustle of movement and whispering, but nobody came forward. Kalan shifted his weight from foot to foot. I wanted to reach out and hold his hand, but I was so damn scared I could hardly move.

“Have any of you seen my mother, Genevieve?” Kalan remained calm and commanding, his body tall. He took a step further into the room. I glanced back at the staircase, my leg muscles twitching.

A woman with frizzy red hair, a pronounced hunchback and curved-in shoulders pushed herself to standing and shuffled forward. Kalan immediately walked toward her.

“Don’t you come any closer,” she said.

Kalan stopped, his entire body tensing. He put his hands up. “I’m not here to cause problems, ma’am. I’m here to find my mother.”

The woman’s bowed-forward frame lowered slightly, as if the force of gravity was too much. “That’s not what Genevieve said.”

Kalan sucked in a noisy breath. “You know her?”

The woman stooped forward even more. “You are
not
welcome here. Genevieve doesn’t want to see you.”

Kalan’s shoulders drooped about two inches, almost as if his helium-filled body had been punctured with a sharp needle.

“I don’t think I’ve made myself clear. I want to speak to her. That’s all.”

The woman took a hobbling step backward when a tall man who’d been leaning against the wall raced to her side. He focused on Kalan, his lips pulled back in a snarl to reveal rotten and missing teeth. Kalan stopped and the woman straightened with her protector now at her side. “She said there would be a day when the white one or the dark one might come. She said this day would happen.”

“We’re her children,” Kalan said. “Of course we would come to find our mother!”

She shook her head, the frizzy red hair whirling about, dust and dandruff floating up from the action, the particles lit up by the dim stream of light from a window overhead. Her henchman glowered. While the two of them in their various stages of poor health would not normally be cause for concern, the fact that we were surrounded by people made them a formidable force. I clasped my hands behind my back to hide their trembling and attempted to steady my breath.

“No. She doesn’t want to see you. She never wants to see you. You’re a freak of nature, and she wishes her botched abortion had been successful!”

Now Kalan’s head tilted back, as if he’d taken a blow to the face.

The woman pointed a gnarled finger at Kalan. “Get out of here. You aren’t welcome here.”

“But I just—”

“Get him!” The woman’s shrill shriek cut straight through me, sheering off every last nerve.

A flurry of activity ensued, screams and shouts as the group charged Kalan at the same time. I screamed as they pile-drove him into the decrepit floor. A loud crack rang out as Kalan’s body met wood. I lunged for him and clawed at those in the dog pile. My fingernails scratched and tore at any skin or fabric my fingers came into contact with.

Somebody grabbed me around the waist and ripped me backward, flailing and shrieking Kalan’s name. I was dragged into the stairwell and shoved down the stairs. I grasped at the banister and caught an iron rung, but momentum twisted my arm and forced me to let go. My elbow tangled between rungs and pain sliced white-hot through my elbow and shoulder. My feet continued to travel down the stairs and wrenched my arm even further.

I screamed and looked up at my assailant. A middle-aged man with long brown hair and a thick gray beard looked down at me with a smile on his face. His eyes were red, glossy and hooded.

My trapped arm stopped the descent, and I twisted to right myself. Despite the terrible pain, I gingerly removed my arm from the banister.

My attacker’s face remained fixed with that same smug expression.

“Don’t think you’re going back in there, bitch.”

I shot him my most withering glare. My mind whirled as I tried to think of a solution.

A sudden concussion of sound reverberated the floor beneath my feet. My bearded attacker spun around and ran back in.

My sleeve was torn, and blood spread out from a central point like red food dye in white icing. With my good arm, I held my injured arm tight to my side and went back up the stairs.

I entered the second floor and my jaw dropped, my legs nearly giving out.

The dog pile on top of Kalan looked like a swarm of maggots. They writhed, twisted and flipped about. Kalan was almost covered, and the way the angry horde flopped and bumped, it was clear Kalan was no match for the sheer number of people.

I went for them once again, and with a bloodcurdling battle-cry, I grabbed the backs of shirts and flung people aside, as hard as I could. The larger, more robust men were under them, and through the flurry of limbs and heads, Kalan’s face came into sharp focus.

One whole side of his head and face was covered in blood, like a complicated latticework of crimson swirls. A scream tore from my throat, and I jumped on the back of a larger man and clawed at his cheeks, his eyes, his neck. He yelled and yanked me off by the hair so I tumbled to the floor.

I scrambled back to my feet. The man was already right back on top of the maggoty heap. The pile of people flew off of Kalan in a burst. Their bodies hurdled through the air as if each person was merely the weight of a kitten.

Kalan, bloodied and bruised but now back on his feet, looked down at the people he’d tossed off of himself. They surrounded him on the floor in a six foot perimeter. His eyes flashed blood-red.

#

              I dabbed gently at the blood on Kalan’s face, though somehow, miraculously, his cuts were already partly healed, including the purple bruises under one eye that were now a pale greenish-yellow. We’d checked into the first descent hotel we found to tend to our injuries, regroup and strategize our next step. Luckily, the hotel suite was impeccably clean.

              “How is it possible you’re healing so fast? I mean, your cuts are almost gone, your bruises…” I wiped a smear of dried blood from his lips. “Even your black eye is almost gone.”

              Kalan blinked as he gazed into my eyes, watching my every move. “It’s one of the effects of the genetic modifications. Rapid healing has been the one thing I’ve always appreciated about being different. I’ve been able to heal like this for as long as I can remember.”

              Here, in the bathroom light, Kalan’s eyes were glossy and near colourless, like polished silver, the blood-red gone. I wanted so badly to lean down and kiss his silvery lashes that curled against his cheek. Instead, I made another slow stroke with the cloth to the side of his jaw, where blood had dried and stuck to his pale stubble. “I thought they were going to kill you.”

              Kalan ran his thumb across my cheek. “I thought so too. When I saw him drag you to the stairwell… I almost went out of my mind. If they hadn’t been tackling me at that moment, I would have torn him in half.” He looked at me with intensity, a kind of deep intimacy I’d never experienced before with another human being.

              A strange tightening sensation started in my belly and I set the washcloth back into the rusty-orange colored water in the sink. I evaluated his appearance, finally satisfied that most of the blood was cleaned off. He hadn’t flinched once, not even when I’d scrubbed at his sore eye. 

              “The first time I saw you I thought you looked like a hero from a cartoon. Some kind of angelic Superman. But now I realize you’re not an angel or a superhero.”

              Kalan snorted. “No. I’m not.”

              “You’re just a person. You may have chromosomal mutations and genetic abnormalities, but you and I are the same.” I gathered his hands in mine. “We’re human.”

              He looked into my eyes, blinking, but not saying a word.

              “And it’s because of our ordinary, average humanity that we are alike. We’re flawed, we’re weak, we have issues and family hang-ups. But when we’re together, it’s like all of that is more easily endured. Like the flaws are smoother, the feelings softer around the edges, the hang-ups more tolerable.”

              Kalan shook his head, his eyes closed. “I don’t know why you’re saying this. But I want to believe it. I need to believe it.”

              “What do you mean you don’t know why I’m saying this?” I asked. “You think I’m saying it to make you feel good about yourself?”

              “I don’t know. Nobody has ever said anything like that to me before.” Kalan’s voice was soft and low. “All I know is that I am… I think, I’ve—Oh, Jesus, Adriana.”

              I set my palm on his soft cheek and gazed into his eyes. The atmosphere between us was almost palpable as he waited for my response.

I let my hand drop away from his cheek. “What would have happened to us in there if you weren’t super strong?” I asked.

Kalan’s shoulders sagged a bit, obviously not expecting my question. He followed my every move, even as I pulled the plug in the sink and let out the bloody water.             

“I don’t know.” His voice was quiet. “What would I have done if you’d been seriously injured? I would have gone out of my mind.”

“Why? Why would you have been so shaken?” I swallowed, the memory of that moment with Derek, the day Analiese died, flooding me, washing away this temporary happiness. “I don’t think you see me clearly,” I said, washing his blood from my hands. “You seem to think I’m better than I am.”

His eyebrow crooked. “What is that supposed to mean?”

I felt like a bomb, ready to explode. I couldn’t have him looking at me the way he did… He had to know the truth.

“I almost made out with my sister’s boyfriend the day she died.” I gasped from my abrupt admission, and backed into the wall. It felt like every last ounce of oxygen had been stripped from my lungs.
Wow, Adriana, you are quite the colossal bitch-slut. I’m going to get up and leave now.

Kalan peered at me, his expression impassive. “You said
almost
. What stopped you?”

My mouth twitched and my chin quivered. “I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t mess around with him.”

“Why not?”

A salty tear burned its way down my raw cheek. “It was wrong.”

“Did you want to?” Kalan asked.

A sob tore from my mouth. “Yes! I wanted him first, and do you know what she did after I told her? She fucked him! That
same
night. She seduced the one guy I liked, and she never even apologized for it.” Tears flowed from my eyes now, dripping from my chin to my chest. I glanced at the door.

Kalan caught where I was looking and stood up, grasping both of my hands. “Did she do it to hurt you?”

“Yes.”

Kalan’s thumbs stroked my palms. “Why?”
              I bit my lip as another fresh round of sobs threatened at my throat. Finally, the words tore from my mouth, “Because I still had my innocence. And she could never get hers back.”

Kalan pulled me into his arms, my chest heaving. He smelled like blood and sweat and Kalan. “She was in pain. Her world, her life, everything was unjust.”

I pressed my cheek to his clavicle and breathed deeply. His supple skin was smooth beneath my lips. “I should have known that and understood it. But I didn’t. Instead, I was angry. Hurt. I wanted to get her back.”

“Of course you did. Who wouldn’t?” Kalan’s question was more of a statement.

“Anyone with half the emotional intelligence of a gnat would have forgiven her, Kalan. But not me. Not Adriana. No, I had to hold onto the resentment, and wait until my opportunity came… and then…”

Kalan placed a finger under my chin and raised my head so my gaze met his. “You didn’t do it. You’d forgiven her.”

I closed my eyes, wishing so much his words were true. The facts were the facts. I shook my head. “No. You don’t understand.”

“I think I do. I don’t think
you
understand,” Kalan said. His voice was firm but gentle.

“That’s where you’re wrong—”

“Forgiveness doesn’t mean
acceptance
. There’s a difference. You understood, you forgave her, but that didn’t mean you accepted what she did was okay. It wasn’t okay. She hurt you. Betrayed you. And you had a right to be hurt and angry. But you still forgave her for it.”

I gazed into silvery eyes that held mine, challenging me to disagree. Was he right? I swiped the tears off of my face and turned away, pushing him off to the side. I set my hands on the sink and looked at my blotchy face in the mirror. I was such a train wreck.
Look at you. Alone in the world. Analiese gone forever. This is what you deserve.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” I said. Then I ran a clean cloth under some cold water and washed my face, the coolness soothing to my chapped skin.

“You’re not ready to stop punishing yourself yet?” Kalan asked.

I didn’t respond. Instead, I took off my dirty shirt and threw it in the tub. “This is filthy. So are your pants.”

Kalan looked down at himself and stripped down to his black boxers and sat down on the toilet seat. After having been under the dog-pile of dirty, sick, homeless people there wasn’t a single item of outerwear that wasn’t soiled. I didn’t want to stare at him, but it was hard not to look.

I touched my sore shoulder. It was warm under my fingertips.

“Does it hurt?” Kalan asked.

“Yes. But at least it isn’t dislocated. Maybe the rotator cuff is sprained. I’m pretty lucky all that’s wrong is a tender shoulder and a bruise on my hip and elbow. Things would have been different if you were just a normal person.” I tried to keep my eyes on his face and not look down at his body. I failed miserably.

Kalan smiled and his face lit up. Without clothing on, and despite the blood and bruises, he looked like a meticulously sculpted god, his skin pale and flawless as marble. The toned muscle of his body almost stood out more because of his paleness, the way the hills cast shadows on the valleys, his shoulders wide and round, his arms thick and defined. Just like the statue of David, I could look at him for hours.

I touched his swollen cheekbone. “Does this still hurt?”

His pupils dilated wide and black. “Not anymore.” He placed his hands on either side of my hips and pulled me slowly toward him. When our bodies connected, he leaned in to me, wrapped his arms around my waist and rested his head on my stomach. I stroked his silken hair and wondered if he could feel the pounding of my heartbeat, matching his.

We’d been to hell and back.

“What do you think will happen when we really find out the truth?” I whispered.

Kalan traced a line from my hipbone to my ribs, almost absently. “I think we will need a lot of therapy.”

“Funny.”

Kalan shrugged. “I have no clue.”

“Then I want to tell you something,” I said. “If both of us are potentially going to need years of psychotherapy to deal with the truth of our existence, then I want you to know how I feel.”
What was I going to say?

Kalan’s eyes widened. They were so bright they looked like twin diamonds. “How do you feel?”

“I… I want you—”

My words were cut off when Kalan pulled my face down and brushed his lips against mine. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he pulled me onto his lap. Our kisses were soft and gentle at first, but soon grew sharp with fear and desperation. His breathing staggered. Was it pain or the effort of restraint? His hunger was clear in the pressure of his lips, warring with his incredible effort to maintain control. His mouth was hot on mine, and he tasted like coppery blood. Was his mouth bleeding?

He tried to move with gentleness, but his movements were far from careful as he grasped the fabric of my camisole and tugged the hem up and over my head. His hands fisted my hair, winding through the strands so tight it almost hurt. The loss of control I felt was overwhelming. I gasped as I tangled my fingers through his hair, gripping tight enough that my teeth came down on his lip, grazing it slightly. He moaned, a sound edged with both pain and pleasure.

I leaned against him, his pale skin warm against mine. I gazed at the curve of his collarbone, the swell of his shoulders, the dip between his hipbone and waist.
You’re so perfect
. My fingers traced a line from his navel down to the waistband of his boxers. Kalan’s entire body stilled, and his breath hitched in his throat as I ran my fingers over the skin of his hard stomach, just above his waistband. My heart pounded so hard, I wondered if he could hear it.

He kissed my throat, his breath hot against my clavicle. Each kiss was like an electric jolt straight from my neck right down to my toes. I shivered at the delicious intensity of the sensation. The intimacy.

“Adriana. If you want to stop, we can…?” His voice buzzed against the skin at my throat, sending more electrical shocks through my body.

“No.”

“Are you sure?” Kalan asked.

“Yes. Are you?”

Our lips met again. His mouth was superheated now, impatient. His fingers found the clasp of my black lacy bra, and within seconds, we were skin to skin.

Kalan groaned as my body melded against his chest. The image of Analiese, pressed against Derek flashed through my mind, but somehow the memory of that moment lost its usual emotional reaction.

“I’ve wanted this since the moment I met you.” Kalan’s voice was husky. “I’ve dreamed of this moment every day since then. You are what I’ve been waiting my whole life for.”

Tears built at the back of my eyes, creating pressure and heat. “I have too,” I whispered.

Then he smiled and kissed me with such ferocity I forgot to breathe. I moaned as pleasure rippled through me, jolts of heat straight to my core as he removed the remainder of my clothing, one item at a time.

Kalan dropped his gaze and looked me over with that unbearable reverence once again. But this time, I revelled in it. “God. Look at you. You’re beautiful,” he said.

A quiver of excitement slid through me, and I couldn’t help but smile.
You don’t deserve to be this happy.
The burning heat inside me ignited into a full-fledged blaze. Our tongues twined together, a slow erotic dance. Then I noticed his lips were swollen.

“Your mouth. It looks… sore. What’s wrong?” I asked.

He licked his lips and smiled sheepishly. “I guess it’s not only your tears that cause my skin to tingle.”

I examined his lips, the way they were slightly redder than they usually were. My cheeks warmed. “What?”

“You’re like a superheating lube. But I’ve noticed it seems to be lessening. Maybe with exposure… maybe I’m building immunity?”

I stared at Kalan. He smiled as if unperturbed while I felt like crawling under a rock. Suddenly I was acutely aware that I was naked and vulnerable.

“You make it sound like this is no big deal?” I covered myself and turned to leave, but he stood up and grabbed my wrists, holding me in place with a gentle but firm grip.

“This isn’t a big deal. This is another genetic thing, I’m sure of it. Besides, it feels good. I can’t wait to see what it feels like when we....” He smiled, and his lips were on top of mine in an instant, his tongue invading my mouth. I went pliant in his arms.
Oh, my God.
All feelings of embarrassment vanished.