I felt a twinge in my chest. Envy? Pity? Hell if I knew. "Maybe you do have real memories," I found myself saying. "Maybe they took you later."
Rose's eyes snapped to mine, a flicker of hope amid the turmoil. "You think so?"
I shrugged, uncomfortable with the question. I didn’t fucking know, but I didn’t want her to feel whatever she was feeling right now. "Fuck if I know. But if they did, we'll find out. And then we'll make 'em pay."
Lakey giggled. "Oh yes," she reached around me to grab Rose’s hand, squeezing tightly. "We'll paint the walls red with their blood."
Sarah rolled her eyes at our antics but there was no real exasperation behind it. She knew what we were by now, knew the monsters that lurked beneath our skin. And yet, here she was, still fighting alongside us.
Maybe we were all a little fucked up. Maybe, by slumming it with us, we gave her permission to untie her panties and give some murder a go. I’m sure she’d find it quite freeing.
As conversation faded around me, I felt my mind start to drift. My ears started ringing, painful and loud. The cramped interiorof the car seemed to melt away again, replaced by echoing voice, blood splattered everywhere. My blood?Fuck. Not now.
I clenched my jaw, fighting against the flood of memories. But they came anyway, disjointed flashes that made my skin crawl.
The cold bite of metal restraints.
The sting of a needle.
A voice, clinical and detached: "Patient Y is responding well to the treatment."
I blinked hard, forcing myself back to the present. My fists were clenched so tight my knuckles had gone white. Lakey was eyeing me with a mix of curiosity and concern, her hand back on my thigh.
"You okay there, babe?" she murmured, low enough that only I could hear.
I managed a tight nod, not trusting my voice. My throat felt raw, like I'd been screaming.Had I? Christ, I hoped not.
Sarah was now talking, her words a distant buzz in my ears. I focused on Lakey's touch, on the warmth of her hand against my leg. It was real. This was real. Not those fucked-up memories of needles and pain and—
"Cam?" Sarah's voice cut through the haze. "Cam?"
I plastered on my most charming smile, ignoring the way it felt like shattered glass in my mouth. "Mmhmm. What?” I still couldn’t see, blinders over my eyes as I fought to come back to myself. Disassociation was a bitch, especially when you’re in a car with people you don’t particularly trust.
Lakey's fingers tightened, a sign she was with me. She knew me too well, could see that something was off, that I wasn’t here. But she didn't call me out. She knew better than to expose any weakness —mine or hers— when others are around.
Instead, she leaned in close, her breath tickling my ear. "When this is over," she whispered, "I'm gonna tattoo every inch of yourskin. Remind you who you are. You don’t belong to them; you belong to me."
I couldn't help the shiver that ran through me. Her voice lingered, caressing fingers over my leg as my vision started to clear, replaced by a memory of her sitting on my lap, her giggles loud in our kitchen as she dotted my skin with hearts. Someone once called me a pussy because of them. I pulled him close into me and slid my hand down his pants before wrapping it around his cock. The guy had been so excited until I started squeezing and squeezing, until his screams were interrupted by a pop and his blood spilled into my hand.You’re right… I am a pussy, so what the fuck does that make you?
It took me a minute to realize that Lakes was staring at me, waiting for a reply. "Promise?" I murmured back.
Her answering grin was all teeth before she made a kissy face and smushed her lips on my cheek. "Cross my heart and hope they die, baby."
Sarah's voice cut through our little moment. "Right, so as I was saying. They want people in high places, but how do you get that? You can’t just appoint an adult and pay them off. Eventually people grow a conscious. No, you make the type of person you want for each role. In my limited time as a social worker, they’d usually have me go to the poorest cities and see what kind of kids were there. The ones who displayed the most ‘promise’ would be marked, and I’d be tasked to remove them and place in a Chimera run foster family."
I felt my skin go cold, like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over my head. "What the fuck are you talking about?"
She leaned forward; her eyes filled with guilt. A haunted woman. "Think about it. Rose's memories, the facility we found — it all fits. They're not just raising kids to be obedient. They're selecting for specific traits. The DNA they’re using, it’s top of the line. Lack of empathy, heightened intelligence, charm..."
The words hit me like a sucker punch to the gut. I could feel Lakey's eyes on me, but I couldn't look at her. Couldn't let her see how close I was to losing my shit. The more Sarah talked, the more the darkness tried to drag me down into it. And it wasn’t a darkness I recognized or wanted any fucking part in.
"They want killers who can blend in," Sarah continued, her voice growing more confident with each word. "Monsters who can pass as human. And they're starting from scratch, breeding for those traits from birth. Cam… Lakey… I… I think you were their first attempts."
The air in the car felt thick, suffocating. I wanted to crack a window, but that would mean moving. And if I moved, I might shatter into a million pieces. Or I’d wrap my hands around Sarah’s throat and watch as the light died in her eyes.
"Well," Lakey said, rolling her eyes. “Isn’t that just beautiful? We left my sibling back in that bag, maybe we should go back and get him. Wouldn’t that just show them how well their tests went? Ruthless little Lakey nabbing a baby under the cloak of night. Outsmarting the scientists.” She clapped her hands and leaned forward, “I’d say I turned out pretty fucking perfectly, wouldn’t you?"
I barked out a laugh that sounded more like a strangled sob. "Speak for yourself, princess. Some of us are clearly the failures of the program."