prologue
Twenty years ago.
Project: Blood Assassin
Subject: Eight
Day: 1099
Time: 09:07
Subject Eight was born for this.
Eight is responding superbly to the methods I’m applying. Nearly better than any other subject before him.
Losing the majority of them was deeply troublesome. Especially Seven, being Eight’s monozygotic twin—which was the main reason why we chose them for this project. The experiments we were doing on both subjects reaped quite thrilling results. Furthermore, the possibilities of having identical assassins were widely popular with our investors.
Nevertheless, I did it. Today, Eight killed for the first time. No hesitation. No remorse. Not even a speck of emotion.
I’m far from done, but I’m one step closer to success.
Tomorrow, we’ll move to a new location once again. After what happened last year, I need to be extremely cautious.
I’m not going to lose Eight and my legacy.
I put the file down on top of the others on my office desk.
“You were right, Meg. There was one more kid.” Linda lets out a long, grievous sigh as she drops into one of the two armchairs in front of me.
A year ago, we uncovered an unsanctioned secret government project called Blood Assassin. A group of kids with psychotic traits had been kept imprisoned and experimented on by scientists. Their aim was to turn them into skilled, unemotional hitmen—machines under their control. However, Subject One had escaped and was found by a sheriff. Thanks to him, we rescued the others.
The scientists kept files—very detailed ones—on each subject, seven kids in total. An empty box labeled with the number eight was also found, which made me wonder if one more subject was out there. Now, Linda is confirming my terrible suspicion. She discovered the empty facility subject Eight was moved to just before we got to the others a year ago.
“Eight wasn’t there. They left in a hurry, a few days before we arrived, judging by the dates on those disturbing files the asshole in charge left behind,” she adds. Linda’s techs were ableto recover them from the computer they left, even though they’d deleted them.
“Were they tipped off?” The way they ran just a few days before Linda got to them is too convenient.
“Maybe. But it’s only normal for them to be extremely cautious after we found the first facility and almost shut down the project. Nevertheless, I’m looking into the possibility that there might be a whistle-blower in my squad.”
“At least now we have proof that there’s another child. And that he is Uriel’s twin brother,” I say.
Uriel, Subject Seven, is one of the kids we rescued and subsequently fostered. They were all kidnapped by those scientists or sold to them by their own families. After experiencing such a traumatic event and having shown psychopathic traits, no other foster family would have wanted them or been able to give them what they needed. That’s why Linda and I decided to welcome them into our home. We have the means and the skills to help them—me being a forensic psychiatrist and Linda an Intelligence Asset. The government was only too happy to make the wholeincidentdisappear—since it would have created severe repercussions if the news of a senator and two military generals financing an unsanctioned project that experimented on kids saw the light of day.
Twelve months have passed since we started this tough journey, and although every day is a battle—taking care of six kids with different conditions is a full-time job—I feel grateful and hopeful.
“Even if we found Eight, time would keep passing, time he’d spend with those devious fuckers. He has already killed, Meg. You read the file.”
Linda is afraid he is too far gone already. But I’m not. Not yet.
“I did read them, and I still have faith.” I look straight into her beautiful blue eyes. She is more than my work partner. She is my other half, the only person I trust with my own life. “He’s a child, utterly alone, pushed on the wrong path by fear and his survival instincts.”
“A child with psychotic traits.”
“Yes, and a superior IQ of 134.” He’s incredibly smart. All these children are—their superior intellect is another reason why they were chosen for the project.
“He’s following their orders,” she cuts me off, springing off the armchair and moving toward the unlit fireplace. “Do you remember how hard it was to pull the others back from the brink of devastation and havoc?”
“They got better.”
