There was a file for each member of the Kindred. She opened hers first and stared at the photograph. She probably wouldn’t have recognized her seventeen-year-old self. Her face was thin, her hair long, her eyes held none of the guardedness she saw in them these days. She switched to the Word document. It was written by the colonel, but it held very little information. She read quickly. Basically, it stated she was too valuable to put at risk. She’d bet that had been hard to write. The colonel had never liked her—would probably have jumped at the chance to stick her brain in a jar and dump the rest of her in the garbage. The feeling was mutual.
She ignored the other files and moved straight to Sam’s. Her heart fluttered as she stared at the photograph for long minutes. He looked so much like her—his face thin, but his eyes were more...serene. She reached out and touched a fingertip to his cheek. Grief and loss crashed through her like a tsunami of pain.
Finally, she forced herself to close the photograph and read the accompanying report. There was more information here; maybe the bastard had had to justify his decision to himself as much as to anyone else. What sort of man could sign off onending the life of a seventeen-year-old kid? A boy he had known since he was a baby. A good person who had never done any harm to anyone.
How?
Rage engulfed her, and she had to bite back the scream. She gritted her teeth. The rage was familiar. For a while, after Sam’s death, it had controlled her, consumed her, but she’d believed it was in the past.
Except there it was, slumbering in her mind. Just waiting for something to rouse it back to wakefulness. She forced the feeling down so her brain could function, then scanned the report quickly, her mind snagging on certain words and phrases, trying to determine just why Sam had been chosen.
Duplicate genetic profile. She guessed that meant he was a twin. They had another one, which made him expendable.
Unsuitable for active missions: Sam had never been used for missions. She’d gone on her first at the age of sixteen—Jake had vetoed her use before then, said she was too young.
Hell, she’d wanted to go. That had changed pretty quickly. After the first time, she had been used almost exclusively for the missions. Sam was never chosen, even though, as a telepath, he was as powerful as she was. They had spent many hours discussing why. They’d decided he was too nice. They’d thought that maybe their controllers believed that he would not be able to cope with the images he might see in some of the minds he’d have to go into. That those images might traumatize him.
As if they gave a fuck.
Kaitlin had thrown up the first time. The subject had been a serial killer. A pedophile. She remembered what he looked like. He’d been tied to a gurney, tortured, and she’d thought she was saving him as well. Then she’d seen into his mind and for a brief moment, she had thought he deserved the pain. But only briefly. She’d saved his last victim and that had made it worthwhile.
She read on...
Deemed the most suitable candidate.
Those were the words that had sealed Sam’s fate.
The report was signed by the colonel. Her hands clenched into fists at her side. If he’d been present in that moment, she would have killed him with her bare hands.
She took a deep breath. She needed to see this through, and she forced herself to read the rest of the reports—there was a lot of technical stuff, which she didn’t understand. The final file was a video.
Did she want to see it?
But she had to. Imagination could probably—hopefully—conjure up far worse scenarios than reality. She’d dreamed of what he had gone through so many times.
She opened the video file, her breath catching in her throat as she saw Sam. He was led into the operating room, appearing a little lost. She recognized the medical staff from the compound. She recognized Linda—the woman they had killed the night they’d found Sam.
As he lay on the gurney, he seemed relaxed, not bothered.
She saw the moment that changed. His eyes widened. He was staring at the doctor; his expression filled with horror. At a guess, he had read the man’s mind. That was against all their protocols, but she imagined that the days of isolation had worn away his resolve to stick to the rules. He screamed then. Screamed her name, and every muscle in her body clenched tight. He’d expected her to save him.
Her.
What a joke.
He screamed again, fighting against the restraints. The nurse jabbed a needle into his arm, and he collapsed back, his eyes closing.
She forced herself to watch the video through until the end. Watched them desecrate his body. Tears fell down her cheeks, and she didn’t bother wiping them away. At least the screams had been fear rather than pain. She’d been so scared about what he had gone through.
When she’d been tortured, she’d thought of Sam. The memories had made her stronger, helped her withstand the pain. Maybe she’d thought of it as punishment for what she had done. Or maybe what she hadn’t done. She should have seen what happened to Sam coming. She should have known there was something wrong. When the staff at the compound started wearing the reflector devices, hiding their thoughts, why hadn’t she realized that they weren’t safe?
For that matter, why hadn’t Jake? The others? She’d been a child, only seventeen. They’d been adults. The closest thing to a family she had, and they had let her down. Let Sam down. All of them. Even Kane, who’d promised to help. He could have moved in and saved them. Instead, he’d tried to eliminate them all.
In that moment, she recognized that she had lost faith in everyone. Even herself. Maybe especially herself.
If only...
She switched back to the photo of Sam and curled on her side, her head on the cushion.
