With a silent scream, the touched human clutches his cheek as if he’d been burned.
Except I know it isn’t fire.
It’s acid.
“I can tell you know him.” Veronica crosses her legs, letting her high heel dangle from her toes. “I know that’s your son.”
It’s a punch to my stomach to hear the word uttered.
Michael.
And he’s fighting with the wolves? Why isn’t he in Boise with Sam and Dani?
“If you can explain what he just did when he laid his hand on that man, I might share where this was.” Veronica taps another cigarette from her packet and offers it to me.
I’m not even addicted. They’ve just become a comfort mechanism…something to do in these grueling sessions.
“I don’t know why you’re even bothering. You know the answer probably better than I do. It was three types of DNA that went into the creation of that virus. Dire wolf—” I gesture at the computer as another three dog mutants appear and dash across the view. “—axolotl—” I wave my hand over my body. That’s what gave me the rapid healing ability. “—and jellyfish. Wouldn’t it make sense that someone got the best part of that concoction?”
My poor little boy. He’s grown into a handsome man.
And fighting against humans.
Why?
I wish I had a way to reach out to Dani. She’d be able to tell me what is going on.
My eyes are fixed to the screen, hoping to see him again.
There’s a girl? They’re kissing!
My hand flies to my chest on its own and tears well.
He’s in love.
I’m struggling not to cry when Veronica slaps the screen shut. I have to remember, she isn’t my friend.
None of them here at this facility are. They tricked me to be here and use me as their very own blood factory.
“Tell me more about his father, and I may let you watch further.” Her notebook reappears on her lap by some mystical movement.
Or because my focus is still on the closed hard case in front of me.
Michael is alive. And he’s ferocious.
I hate that he was attacking people. What did they do?
“What do you want to know?” Desperation tinges my words. It’s been so long since I’ve seen my boy. There’s an ache in my chest, a fresh reminder that he’s out there in a world full of danger.
Some of the biggest threats smile from a leather overstuffed chair with a promise of fulfilling my heart’s desire.
Except I know she won’t.
“What makes him special? How didhecreatethat?” She waves her wrist limply to the coffee table. “We’ve implemented a breeding program that continues to fail to replicate the results.”
Gross.
I hate how she says it that way. Like I’m an animal.
