Shadows Strike(8)
“Are you in the army?” he asked, fearing her answer. She was damned good with a gun. When he had ordered her to hit the main arteries, she had done so with her next shot.
“No. We traveled around so much when I was a little girl that I swore I’d find an occupation that would allow me to put down roots and stay in one place.”
That was a relief. “What occupation did you choose?”
Her face scrunched up. “Do you want my public profession or my secret profession?”
Intrigued, he chose “Both.”
She sighed. “I read minds for a living. But everyone thinks I read facial expressions.”
“I’m not following you.”
“I call myself a FACS specialist, someone who studies the facial action coding system.”
The facial action what? “Still not following you.”
“The facial action coding system categorizes the physical expression of emotion through minor contractions or relaxations of one or more muscles in the face. I’ve gained a reputation for being so accurate that I’m often called in by local law enforcement and sometimes by the military and . . . certain agencies . . . to observe interrogations and interviews and tell them whether or not the suspect or criminal being questioned is telling the truth. Those who call me in think I’m reading microexpressions.”
“But you’re really reading thoughts.”
“Yes.”
Law enforcement. Military. Certain agencies. Hell. After everything that had happened during the past few years, Seth—the leader of the Immortal Guardians—would have Ethan’s ass if he didn’t call the network in on this. And Chris Reordon, head of the East Coast division of the human network that aided immortals, would go ballistic if he found out Ethan had let someone with Heather’s connections retain knowledge of vampires’ existence without Chris’s ensuring she would keep the information to herself.
“Are you and your father close?” he asked.
“Yes. Why? What’s wrong? You look worried all of a sudden.”
Inwardly, he swore. She had been honest with him. He wouldn’t feel right about being less than honest with her. “I am worried,” he admitted.
“Why?”
“We’ve worked very hard to keep our existence hidden from humans.”
“You and the other vampires?”
Again he swore silently. He didn’t want to lie to her. She really had saved his ass earlier, taking out a couple of the vampires so he would only have to defeat five rather than seven. And she had revealed more about herself than she had cared to at his request.
But life had grown incredibly dangerous for immortals of late. So many enemies had risen up against them. Both vampire and human. Until he gained some assurances that she wouldn’t tell her father or any of her other contacts, he couldn’t explain the differences between vampires and immortals. He couldn’t even tell her that he was an immortal.
“Yes.” Technically, he didn’t lie. Vampires didn’t want humans to know about them either, especially after rumors of recent events had circulated the globe.
“Are you afraid I’ll tell someone?”
“Yes.”
She shook her head. “Who would believe me?”
“Your father might, if the two of you are close.”
She considered that for a moment. “I think Dad would worry that I’d suffered a mental breakdown or something if I started babbling about vampires.”
Five years ago, Ethan would have agreed. Now . . . not so much. “You haven’t told him about the dreams?”
“No. I won’t tell him about this, either. As I said, he’d only worry about me.”
“Would you be willing to sign a confidentiality agreement, vowing not to tell anyone what you learned tonight or what I’m prepared to tell you?”
She stared at him. “Seriously?”
“Yyyyyeah,” he said with some regret.
“There are vampire lawyers?” she asked incredulously.
Several lawyer/bloodsucker jokes sprang to mind, but Ethan opted to keep them to himself. “Not vampire. Human. The humans who work with us—”
“Humans work with you?” She seemed more taken aback by that than by the lawyers.
He nodded. “And they’re very protective of us. The powers that be will have my ass if I don’t let the humans talk to you so they can be assured of your silence.”
She pulled her hand from his grasp. “Be assured of my silence how? By making me disappear? Because you look like you think they’re going to—”
“No,” he hastened to correct her. “They won’t harm you. They’ll just talk to you and ask you to sign a confidentiality agreement. That’s all. I’ll be with you the whole time.” Holding her hand, if she would let him. And he would kick Reordon’s ass if Chris upset her.
A full minute ticked past.
“Do I have any choice in this?” she asked, her pretty face grim.
“Not really. But I promise, Heather, no harm will come to you. You’re a gifted one. These confidentiality agreements aren’t just meant to protect us. They’re meant to protect you and other gifted ones, too. Once you understand all that being a gifted one entails, you’ll likely conclude that hiding what you are has been the wisest decision you’ve ever made.”
She studied him for several long minutes. “Okay, I’ll sign. Now tell me what you meant by that. Why are gifted ones so special?”
It didn’t surprise him that she would wish to know that first. Being different and not understanding why sucked. “Gifted ones are men and women like you and me who were born with gifts ordinary humans don’t possess. Those gifts are a result of extremely advanced DNA.”
Her brows drew down. “How advanced?”
“Every human has forty-six DNA memo groups that provide the blueprints for his or her existence. According to our researchers, gifted ones have seven thousand.”
She stared at him, unblinking. “Seven thousand?”
“Yes.”
“And everyone else has forty-six?”
“Humans have forty-six.”
“If they’re human, then what the hell are gifted ones?”
“We don’t know the source of our advanced DNA. We just know—or rather we’ve learned, over the millennia—that it’s best to conceal knowledge of our differences from the general public.”
“What do you think would happen if humans found out?”
“In the past, they slew those whom they discovered were different. Today they would dissect you, experiment upon you, and seek to duplicate and exploit your gifts for monetary gain . . . if they didn’t kill you outright.”
She gave him a slow nod. “Yeah. That’s pretty much what my dad told me.”
“So he knows you’re telepathic?”
“Of course.”
“And he’s never told the men he works with?”
“The army? No. He tells them the same thing I do, that I’m a FACS specialist.”
That was good. That was very good, and should help ease Reordon’s concerns regarding the military.
She pursed her tempting lips. “This might be a good time for me to admit I’ve used my gift for my own monetary gain.”
“How so?” Judging by her current modest lodgings, she wasn’t wealthy.
“I paid my way through college with money I acquired gambling.”
He fought a smile. He knew many telepathic immortals, Lisette included, who had gambled their way to an impressive fortune.
“But I always chose the guys I fleeced carefully,” she hurried to add. “They were all either assholes or bored multimillionaires or billionaires who wouldn’t miss it. Or both. With a few freaks thrown in.”
Ethan laughed. “Good for you. I admit I’ve done the same.”
“You’re telepathic, too?”
“No. It’s the photographic memory thing.”
“Counting cards?”
He nodded. “And everyone really does have a tell. When you remember every second of everything you see, you identify those quickly and can guess—”
“If your opponent is bluffing.”
“Exactly.”
“I don’t feel so bad now.”
He winked. “I never felt bad.”
Her lips quirked up in a smile as her brown eyes lit with amusement. “So . . . any other revelations you’d care to make while I’m sitting down?”
“Actually, yes,” he said. “I’m not a vampire. I’m an immortal.”
She studied him a long moment. “This is going to be one of those days, isn’t it?”
Again he laughed and wished his damned back didn’t hurt so much when he did. “The traits humans have long associated with vampires—fangs, superior speed and strength, enhanced senses, photosensitivity, greater regenerative capabilities, and a need for blood—are a result of a very rare symbiotic virus. Vampires are humans who have been infected with it. Immortals are gifted ones who have been infected with it. In humans, the virus causes progressive brain damage that drives them insane. With gifted ones, however, our advanced DNA protects us from the brain damage, as well as some of the other, more corrosive aspects of the virus.”
“So no insanity?”
“No insanity.”