Touching Smoke (27 page)

Garrison was sitting on the terrace when we were escorted — at gunpoint — downstairs for breakfast. The early morning sunlight shone around him, bouncing off the silver cutlery and the polished marble. He was surrounded by columns, wrapped in rose vines. Beyond that was the ocean, lapping and dancing beneath the rays of warm light. Gone were the clouds, but the fresh scent of rain, sea salt, roses, moist soil and dewy grass lingered in the air. Garrison glanced up briefly when we found him. Then, he continued drowning his tea in honey.

“Good morning!” he greeted us. “I trust you slept well.”

We hadn’t. We’d stayed up most of the night, or what was left of it after we’d arrived, devising ways to escape. But several things kept hindering those plans, no car, no idea where we were and no way of escaping with the guard issued to stand outside our door, hired to follow us if we took even one step out the door. At that moment, the guard in question stood just on the inside of the terrace doors, close enough to intervene if needed, but far enough not to appear as though he was following.

“There are outfits in the wardrobe,” Garrison said, eyeing my torn and stained jeans and filthy t-shirt. Yeah, Amalie’s old things no doubt. Imprisoned in her room was one thing. I drew the line. “If they’re not to your taste, we can get you new things,” he went on, ignoring or not seeing my scowl. “As for you, Isaiah, I’m sure we can find—”

I sucked in a lungful of air and blurted, “Amalie was your daughter!” It came out like an accusation, and maybe, it was because the guy had some serious explaining to do, like, why was
I
having dreams about
his
dead daughter!

Garrison never so much as batted an eyelash. He nimbly set the honey pot down with a soft clink and picked up a teaspoon. We watched, waited as he stirred his drink then took a dainty sip. It was a full minute before he spoke. “I was wondering when you would bring her up.”

At least he hadn’t denied it.

“What happened to her?”

He set his cup down. “I was hoping you would tell me.”

I swallowed hard. “She jumped.”

A fleeting shadow passed over his eyes. If I hadn’t been convinced he was a monster without human emotions, I would have pegged it as sadness. “Yes.”

“What is going on with me?” I gripped the top of the chair in front of me, the intricate design cutting into my palms. “Why am I seeing her in my dreams?”

His eyes widened, surprise sending his eyebrows up his forehead. “Your dreams?” he took another sip, his expression thoughtful. “Interesting.” He sat back in his chair, a king on his throne. “She was your age when she took her life.” I didn’t miss the tremor in his hand when he swiped it over his face, or was that part of his grieving act. “Too young to do what she did. She was so beautiful, like her mother. They both could light up an entire room with just a smile.”

“Why did she do it?” I asked, banishing the surge of sympathy I felt welling up inside me.

His green eyes rose and pinned mine. “You tell me.”

I jerked back as if struck. “How would I know?”

“You know,” his voice was no louder than the whisper of the wind playing through the roses. “You just have to remember.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I shot back. “You promised us answers, not more riddles.”

All seriousness vanished from his face and he was beaming again. “So I did. Come. Sit. Have some breakfast and we shall talk.”

We took the seats he offered, because what other choice did we have? Isaiah kept himself between Garrison and me, remaining broodingly silent.

“Eggs? Sausage? Toast?” Garrison offered, gesturing to the platter of grilled meat, scrambled eggs and golden slices of bread.

I shook my head, not hungry for food, but I did pour a cup of coffee that I left untouched at my elbow. Isaiah turned his attention over the ocean, his face as dark and thunderous as the clouds we’d seen the night before. Garrison watched him silently, eyes narrowed — ever the observant scientist, I noted.

“So, what would you like to know?” Garrison asked once it was apparent that we weren’t going to accept anything from him.

“Where are we?” I asked at once.

He sat back in his chair. “Home. The location is very remote and heavily protected,” he added as though making sure we knew we had no chance of escape. “I assure you, nothing will bother you here.” In other words — no one will ever find you here. Yeah, I got it.

“Is this where we…?” I trailed off. What was I supposed to say? Where we were created? Brought into the world? Cooked up?

“No, my lab is elsewhere.” His secrecy did not go unnoticed.

“You said my parents came to you.”

He nodded. “Ashton was very excited about it. We’d been partners since he first heard that I was making progress with Isaiah. Of course, we’d met off and on throughout the years, during charity events and such mainly. He’d always known what it was that I did. I never made it a secret. Then he met your mother and they both got it in their heads that they wanted children. Well, that wasn’t a problem for me, not when I’d helped a great number of people with that exact dilemma—”

“Dilemma?”

“Conceiving,” he explained. “We specialize in genetics. At the time, we were searching for a cure to help women carry to full term, something your mother couldn’t do.”

“So you decided to toss together a cocktail of mixed DNAs in there for the fun of it?” Isaiah shot back, knuckles caps of white snow against his golden skin.

Lines appeared on either side of his mouth. His shoulders slumped slightly. “I can understand where you would think I did wrong, but there is a whole science behind what I do! You can’t just remove strands of DNA without replacing it. Sometimes, the only path to success is to push the boundaries, open doors. It’s what your father wanted! He asked me to remove several of your more… unique coding so I did.”

“What did you put in us? What unique coding?”

A new life sparked behind his eyes. “Oh, you two,” he inhaled deeply through his nose and exhaled shakily through his mouth. “You will change everything anyone has ever known about life and creation. You… you are… perfect!”

A chill swept through me despite the balmy weather. Isaiah had said the same thing to me not too long ago, but it hadn’t made me feel violated. It was as if Garrison had reached out and touched me. Repulsion made me want to shower, to scrub every inch of myself until the phantom feeling was erased.

“What did you do?” I managed to push out.

His chair screeched against the slabs of stone making the terrace floor. He shot to his feet. Next to me, Isaiah tensed, braced for an attack. “I made you strong. I gave you abilities that nature wouldn’t. I made you powerful! I made you better.”

“What did you
do?”
The words lodged in my throat.

He turned to us then, eyes alit with an eerie glow. “Have you asked yourself
why
yet?”

I blinked, taken aback. “What?”

His smile was frightening. “Why!” he repeated. “Why are you able to do the things you do? See the things you are able to see? Smell, run, taste… want!” His teeth flashed. The smile looked painfully wide, like a clown’s twisted leer. He looked horrifyingly mad. “Have you asked yourself
why
you want Isaiah as badly as you do?”

I hadn’t, but then again, I was a sixteen-year-old girl, and Isaiah was gorgeous. Evidently, that wasn’t what Garrison meant.

He wasn’t finished. He turned his attention on Isaiah, eyes wide with intensity. “And have you asked yourself why her? Have you wondered how you are always able to sense her? Smell her? Hear her, even though she never says a word.” When we both remained silent, his smile vanished, and he heaved a burdened sigh. “Do you honestly believe that what you feel is normal? The insatiable hunger, the drive… the thirst?” He looked at me when he said the last part. “Have you ever wanted to taste anyone as much as you want to taste Isaiah?”

No. I had never wanted anyone the way I wanted Isaiah. The very idea of drinking from anyone else brought a wave of nausea coursing through me. With Isaiah, my mouth started salivating.

“You deliberately made us this way?” I whispered, disturbingly hurt rather than angry. “Why would you do that?”

“I warned your mother,” Garrison moved with the speeds of a whirlwind around the terrace, circling the table like a large dog, confining his prey. “I warned her of what would happen if she agreed. I told her. But she refused to take no for an answer. She wanted a baby no matter what the consequences.”

“She didn’t want this!” I shouted, twisting in my seat as he pushed around behind us. “She was on the run my entire life because of what you and my father did.”

“Ah!” he stopped next to his chair, pressing one hand on the glass for support and leaning across to stab a finger in my face. “That is where you don’t understand. Your mother knew! The minute you were injected into her body, she knew, but she didn’t care. Whatever sacrifices she had to make, she would deal with them later, she said.”

“She didn’t know!” I refused to believe it. My mother would never have done it if she had known what I would become. What I would have to face.

“I sent your father second-by-second details of everything we did, every process, every step, every single minuscule change. How is it my fault that he didn’t share them with her? My job was to bring you into the world, which I did.”

I was breathing hard, the buzzing in my ears growing to new heights. I blinked back tears. “What did you do to me?”

Garrison jerked back, looking oddly stricken, like I’d somehow wounded him. He stared at me, his head tilted to the side. Seconds ticked into minutes and still he remained frozen in thought. Then, he sighed, head dropping forward. His shoulders pressed inwards as he deflated into his chair.

“I see no matter what I tell you, you will continue to perceive me as the villain,” he slicked a hand back over his hair and sat back heavily. “I suppose it’s a cross I will need to bear,” he righted himself, tugging on the lapels of his jacket and smoothing a hand down his front. “But I will tell you this, everything I did, everything I will do, is for the good of mankind.”

Isaiah snorted. “How is playing God good for mankind?”

“Well,” Garrison splayed his hands open, palms up, “look at yourself for instance. You would not be here were it not for me. Neither of you. You would not be together. I made that happen. Not many would claim to have found their soul mates in their lifetime, but you have. You’ve found each other. The perfect match. Two pieces of a very important puzzle. Your existence is
the
key to the next evolution.”

My heart faltered in my chest. It may have ceased beating altogether. It was hard to focus on that when I was struggling to remember how to breathe, how to think. His words, they said so much, yet explained nothing. But it was the second time Garrison had called me the key.

“My father sent Isaiah to be with me,” I said at last, albeit it came out weak.

“Only because I sent Isaiah to him knowing he would use the boy to protect you,” Garrison said.

I swallowed the ball of nails wedged in my throat. “So… you did this? You made me fall in love with Isaiah?” beside me, I felt Isaiah stiffen, but I didn’t look at him. I couldn’t. Behind the veil of pain and anger, I was fighting a new wave of tears, one of humiliation and I couldn’t face him. “Why?”

Garrison never so much as faltered in his response, nor did he seem affected by the single tear that slipped past my guard and rolled down my cheek. “Because I needed a key for my weapon and your already unique DNA was perfect.”

I rocked my head, shaking away the toxic fog hindering all rational thought impossible. “What?”

He leveled me with a stare, his face an arctic mask of hatred. “I forged the future, Fallon. It took me years of trial and error, but I was finally able to generate the essential elements needed to create the ultimate being. Isaiah’s high-speed regeneration abilities made him the perfect specimen. All I had to do was add a few minor perks and he was ready.”

“Ready for what?” Isaiah ground out.

Garrison wasn’t given the chance to answer when Maia sauntered into the room, clad in her usual spandex, this one in a cotton candy pink to match the strips in her hair and the pale shade shining her lips. She stopped just on the threshold and surveyed the scene with a sick sort of amusement, like she knew exactly what we’d been talking about and knew just how much Isaiah and I were hurting.

“I’m sorry to break up this warm heart-to-heart, but there’s a call for you in the office, sir.”

Garrison offered her what may have passed for a charming smile. “I’ll be right there. Thank you, Maia.”

Inclining her head, Maia turned on her ice pick heels, but not before slanting me a cutting smirk. Her hips swayed as she strolled out.

“Excuse me.” Garrison rose to his feet and left us.

He disappeared through the open terrace doors, leaving Isaiah and me alone for far longer than I could stand. I willed myself not to look at him as I rose out of my seat and crossed to the stone railing. I glanced back only once when a shuffle of feet alerted me to the third party joining us. The guard said nothing, but stood watching me the way a chess player watches a piece on the board, like he expected me to do something. It didn’t take any real brains to guess what that was; he was worried I would jump, causing him to lose his job. Well, he wasn’t going to get that lucky.