Blood Promise (A SkinWalker Novel #4) (A DarkWorld SkinWalker Novel) (40 page)

"So, based on the conclusions of one man's supposed research you've become an active participant in genocide."

Nevins blinked. "Of course not. This isn't genocide. Targets are specific. We test for certain markers. Only those who show signs of becoming a danger to society are eradicated."

Like cockroaches.

Logan didn't back down "You didn't eradicate pests, Brett. You killed people."

"You don't understand," Nevins said "They were no longer people. It was in their DNA, right there for us to see that they would eventually be a danger."

He paused and met Logan's eyes. "Don't you see? They
deserved
to die."

"A
ND
WHO
DID
THOSE
INVESTIGATIONS
and the experimentation that confirmed these dangers existed?" Logan asked, his tone hard.

Nevins hesitated. "I wasn't told who did the research. I was just shown it." For a moment he looked lost, as if he realized there were missing pieces in his reasoning.
 

Then his features tightened. "I know what you're doing, Westin. Still the same little upstart, wanting to push his way into things he doesn't understand."

His dislike for Logan was palpable, and I let my panther surface slowly, fingers forming paw and claw, mouth filling with sharp, deadly teeth.

Logan shook his head. "I don't want
in
, Brett. I want to help you
out.
If what I've seen so far is true, then you're in danger from the very people you trust."

"No." Nevins jerked his head back as though a poisonous insect had buzzed in his face. "That's a lie. You're envious. You weren't chosen. You, with your power and your security clearance. You with your so-called friends in
high
places
."
 

He sneered the last two words and his expression spoke volumes. "You weren't the one they wanted in the end, were you? It was
me
."
 

And on the last word he unfolded his arms and whipped them behind his body. Even as he swung them around to aim the pistol at Logan, I was flying through the air.

I slammed into his chest, ignoring the ear-splitting shot past my ear, the fabric of clothes ripping under my claws, the scent of blood and skin as I peeled it from his body.
 

Then he hit the ground with me on top of him.

I tilted my head and growled, my roar reverberating through the trees. My canines were a mere inch from his throat when Logan yelled, "Kai, don't."

Even though Logan begged me to stop, my panther roared for the kill. She was so close, thrusting against me, her need for blood and death a living thing.

I stared into Nevins' terrified eyes and smelled a hint of urine. The big bully had been beaten by a bigger one. That ended it for me. I wasn't a bully. I didn't want to debase another person.

And I stepped away, more because it sank in how badly he'd been manipulated. Total mind-fuck.

As I pulled my panther back Nevins scrambled onto shaking legs.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" He glared at me. Then at Logan. "Keep your bitch away from me, Westin."

"She's not
my
bitch." Logan smiled. "You're hers."

I took a step closer, surprised that he didn't run for his life. "What happened to the scar?" I asked studying his cheek. "I thought I left you with a pretty memento of our last meeting."

He shrugged, trying for nonchalant. The shiver in his knees, however, revealed his true state of mind. "Part of the post-mission restoration. Something to do with reconstruction of the wound that brings it back to its original state." Then his mouth snapped shut as if he realized he was revealing far too much.

Too late, Nevins.

"Look, Nevins," Logan said. "I'm trying to help you before it's too late. Before you're either too far gone, or too dead to get out of his clutches."
 

Nevins shook his head. "I don't believe you. He's not capable of what you're implying. Any deaths were specific, and the massacres you're talking about were just training exercises."
 

Training exercises?

"Which ones were just training?"

"The goblins, and the kids in Cicero."

So he did kill Mika. My gut twisted as I accepted that he was my mark now.

Just one more question. "And the Masai tribe?" I asked softly.

He shrugged. "I wasn't part of that one."
 

"How did you know these were just training exercises?" Logan asked.

Nevins rolled his eyes. "Because they were. He said they were."

"Then," I said, "how do you explain all the people you killed and all the bodies left behind after you were done?"

"Bodies?" He roared out a laugh. "There were no bodies afterward. The people were just projections made for us by the telepaths he hired. They created images for us to use as training."

It looked as though Logan was right after all. Nevins was as much a victim--in his own way--as the people he'd gunned down. The difficulty was how to make him see it.

And then I asked, "Did you pick up your shells and bullets afterward?"

Nevins hesitated. "Why would we do that?'

"Because if you were shooting at projections the bullets wouldn't hit anything. Ammo would be lying everywhere on the ground. Did you do a cleanup?"

"I . . . yes . . . maybe." He shook his head. "I don't . . . recall. We must have. Or even if we didn't, they would have called in a cleanup crew anyway. What difference does that make?"

"It makes a huge difference if the projections were real people who actually died at your hands and who actually told us what happened afterwards."

His face lost color. "Death talkers?"

"Uh-huh." I nodded.

He shook his head like it hurt. "No. This makes absolutely no sense. He wouldn't do something like this."

"Who is
he
?" Logan said softly.

He snorted. "There's no way I'd tell you that."

"Why not?" I asked stepping around him. "Is it because you can't
remember
who he is?"

"Of course I remem--" His expression was pained as he frowned at me. Then shocked as he concentrated, clearly trying to recall the name of the man who controlled him. "I . . . No. You're just trying to manipulate me."

"Nope," I told him. "You've already been manipulated. It would be evil of me to do such a thing now."

He made a strangled sound then turned and fled into the forest.
 

I shifted to follow and catch him but Logan touched my arm.

"Leave him. It's sinking in."

The sounds of Nevins crashing and thrashing through the undergrowth, sending the wildlife squawking, echoed behind him.

"Even if he doesn't want to believe it, a part of him knows the truth."
 

Jess emerged from among the trees. "That depends if that part of him has been erased."
 

"So he has been erased?" I turned to her, sure now I'd been right all along.

"That was good move to try and get him to remember the mastermind's name," said Logan.

"It made sense that he would have been tinkered with," I said. "What paranormal would agree to killing his own kind when the method used would make him vulnerable too?" I looked at Jess. "Did you find anything in his mind that would lead us to the main guy. Is it--?"
 

I stopped myself just before I spilled out the name but Logan was on his phone and talking quietly. I let out a breath.

"I am afraid the erasure of his memories was very thorough. And permanent." Jess's voice held a dull note of hopelessness. As if she felt that finding something solid to connect Storm to the killings was impossible.

I knew how she felt.

"I have to go now," she said. "I must make my report."

"Omega?" I asked, giving Logan a glance. Done with his call he was heading back to us.

"The Immortal High Council," she whispered in my head.

Startled I glanced up at her, but she was looking at Logan. "Let me take you two back to the city," she told him. "I have some errands to run."

I grinned. "We appreciate the ride."
 

"I do believe Logan appreciates it more.
You
could just run home. He has only human strength."

This time I had to laugh. I'd never heard Jess utter such a smartass remark. It was quite refreshing.
 

Logan met her smile with a broad one of his own.

"Where to?" she asked.

"O'Hagan's please," we said in unison. I was eager for food, less eager to face the shambles that was our apartment.
 

Jess dropped us off in the shadows of an alley around the corner from the pub, and we scanned the sidewalk before exiting the darkness and hurrying toward the sound of relaxation.

I made another round of calls and texts to Anjelo and came up empty. Despite the heavy weight in the pit of my stomach, I dug into my meal with gusto.

After a satisfying double cheeseburger for me, and a steak for Logan, we sat back replete but exhausted.

I yawned. "I feel like I've been going for days."

"You have," he said drily.

"Not as if I've had a chance to nap, you know."

He sighed. "I know all too well." He wiped his mouth with his napkin and tossed it onto the plate. "I hope tonight I can get some sleep."

"They're getting stronger?" I asked, stirring my milkshake with my straw.

He nodded and gave a tired sigh. "The littlest things set me off. Like the thought or the taste of chocolate cake, or ice-cream, or strawberry milkshake."

He looked down into the glass in his hand. It was an apple cider. He told me he'd gone for the cider because it wasn't strong enough to knock him out. The last thing he wanted was to pass out before he got home.

"I can see a figure in the dreams now." Logan was still staring into his glass. "It's not just a feeling anymore. There is someone there that I can't remember quite so clearly."

I didn't respond, what with Jess's words ringing in my ears.

"What Darcy said made me think about these dreams and memories." He tilted the glass, let the cider edge up to the rim. "This girl is just a ghostly shape, I have no idea who she is, but somehow I know she's real."

"Do you think you should see someone?"

"See someone?"

"Don't be obtuse. Speak to someone about it. A therapist or even a telepath. Someone who can look under the hood and see if anything missing in there." I gave him a teasing smile.

"Not about to take such a chance."

"Why not?" I asked. "Maybe speak to Darcy about your missing memories. Some of the stuff she said had to make you wonder if she could help you."

Logan studied my face for a long moment. Then he sat back. "As soon as this craziness dies down, I'll think about it." He smiled and leaned toward me. "I promise."

That was all I could ask for.