Page 67 of The Night Island

Pomona Finch had been thrilled when she had been invited to take over the lab. She hadn’t even blinked when she realized that theend product of her work would be psychically enhanced assassins. But then, Finch didn’t much care for people in general. The only things that mattered to her were the plants.

A few weeks ago he had been unlucky enough to get caught in the lab when an unexpected storm system had struck the island. There had been no safe way to get back to the surface until morning. He had been forced to spend the night listening to Pomona Finch hum to herself while she conducted experiments and tests on various plant specimens.

When she finally announced that she was ready to run her first experiment on a human subject, he selected another name from the list. He had been making preparations to pick up the individual when another disaster struck: he had discovered that someone else was in possession of the very same list and was trying to market it online.

He had managed to track down Phoebe Hatch before the other buyers got to her through a combination of good luck and the psychic-grade digital talents of his half sister, Celina.

In theory, Celina had no reason to assist him in the Night Island project. A success would only serve to reinforce her status as a loser in the fucking succession game their father was forcing his three offspring to play. But Cutler Steen had not taken into account the complex forces at work in sibling rivalries. Celina’s anger and resentment at dear old Dad had trumped her desire to see her half brother fail.

He now knew how Celina felt, Nathan thought. Too many things had gone wrong with Cold Fire 2.0 because he had been forced to work with unreliable assets like Finch and Keever and the Venners.

It wasn’t like he’d had much choice. There were not a lot of brilliant researchers who were eager to work in an underground lab dedicated to illegal paranormal experiments. And although therewere plenty of con artists who could have run a scam like the Unplugged Experience, there weren’t many who were willing to set up shop on a lonely island in the San Juans and agree to stay there for an extended period of time.

Nathan emerged from the thick foliage and stopped on the stone floor. He looked down at the big vault door. It stood open. The muddy footprints, the discarded poncho, and the jackets told him that everything he had feared was true. Rand and March had not only found the key on Keever’s body, they had figured out how to activate it and it had led them straight to his secrets.

Cold Fire 2.0 was dead. Yes, he had one success—proof of concept—but Rand and March had made it impossible to continue the project on Night Island. It didn’t matter if they lived or died. Either way they were a problem, because they would draw too much attention to the island. If they failed to return to the mainland, the damned podcast crew would come looking for them. If they made it back to Seattle, they would report the two deaths.

So, yes, time to cut his losses and clean up. Luckily he had Subject B, the one success of the Cold Fire 2.0 project.

He aimed the key at the steel door. The device pinged. The crystals flashed. The gate to the underworld closed and locked.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

I’m serious,” Pomonasaid, her voice climbing. “The herbicide is lethal.” She started to squeeze the trigger.

Talia held her breath but Luke was talking again, each word carrying currents of hypnotic energy.

“We believe you,” he said. “You want to put the canister down. It’s getting very heavy. You need to set it on the floor and get some sleep.”

“No,” Pomona whispered. The canister trembled in her grasp. She almost dropped it. “What are you doing to me?”

“I’m helping you get some sleep,” Luke said. “You’re exhausted.”

Pomona shivered. “I’m cold. It’s not cold in here. Why am I so cold?”

“Because your body is shutting down so that you can rest,” Luke said.

Talia wasn’t feeling the icy currents; nevertheless, she shivered when she heard them in Luke’s voice. Phoebe took a step back and hugged herself.

“Something is wrong.” Pomona watched Luke as if she wasseeing a vision, but she did not go down. Instead, she stumbled backward. She was still clutching the canister but she was no longer aiming it. Her eyes widened. “I know who you are. Subject A. The failure. Nathan Gill told me you had gone insane and died.”

Luke froze. Talia knew that Pomona’s statement had fractured his concentration.

“What do you know about me?” he asked much too softly.

Pomona, no longer under the spell of his talent, raised the canister again, her finger tightening on the trigger.

“You’re the test subject who disappeared after the first round of experiments,” Pomona said. “Gill was sure you had not survived. He said you had gone insane and died within hours. Something about a boat fire. But then, he was convinced the enhancement drug hadn’t worked on you, either.”

“What made him so certain the drug didn’t enhance my talent?” Luke asked.

“Because you used a scalpel to slit the throats of the two researchers who ran the initial trials, of course. Why use a blade and leave a mess if you had a lethal psychic talent? Regardless, you should be dead by now.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Talia saw Phoebe flinch and turn to look at Luke as if he had metamorphosed into a monster. That was unfortunate, but there was no time to deal with the problem. She focused on Pomona.

“Why was Gill so certain that Luke had died?”

“I faked my own death,” Luke said, his expression tight as he concentrated. “I remember some of it now. I stole the cruiser that was tied up at the dock. When I was near one of the other populated islands I set the boat on fire and sank it. I walked into town. I had some cash on me. I bought a ticket on a ferry and got off in Seattle.”

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