The Forbidden Trilogy(142)

The para-power she wielded could prove valuable in the future, and he prided himself on keeping all of his tools in the best possible shape. "Take her to the doctor and make sure she is given the best care possible. I want her alive. Are we clear?"

If only he could remove the side effects of her healing power, he might take it for himself. He cursed the scientists, who took too long. If his son had lived longer, if he'd been able to keep the best parts of The Seeker's powers and leave the rest, he could find all of the kids he needed and he wouldn't be in this position.

The guards nodded while one lifted her in his arms and left the room. The cat darted out from under the bed and followed them.

Mr. Steele focused his attention on the body and waited with the patience of a man who had no conscience.

When its eyes opened in panic, Mr. Steele dove into its mind.

Implanting false memories required careful attention to detail. The memory had to align with the rest of the subject's experiences. To manipulate someone into action based on a false memory required even more skill and care—something he prided himself on.

First, he rummaged through his mind in search of a memory of equal importance that he could sacrifice—another kink in his power, which he intended to fix once he perfected his formula. Eventually, he'd be able to implant memories without payment with his own, and erase memories without carrying them around in his own mind. Mr. Steele relished the promised freedom. While he didn't have to suffer the indignities of any emotions attached to memories, he did not enjoy the experience of other people's lives in his mind.

He had no idea how his daughter, Sam, could stand to read minds all day long. To be exposed to so much... humanness.

Once he selected his memory, he held it in the Sphere of Transfer, as he called it. Then, he began to remake the memory into what he wanted his subject to believe was its own.

The art of memory making required his full focus. He tweaked smells and sounds, adjusted what stood out and what faded into the background. When the memory was nearly perfect, he added the missing piece, the part that was hardest for him to create, as he had no experience of his own from which to draw.

He had to add emotion.

It took two hours to get it just right. Once the memory was ready, he pushed it out of the sphere and into the subject's mind, allowing it to find its place amongst the other memories organically.

If Mr. Steele had done his job right, and of course he had, this memory would compel his subject to bring him his granddaughter when she was born.

That child's cerebrospinal flu would contain the purest, most powerful para-powers he'd ever created, and those powers would be his.





Chapter 67 – Sam



I stand in a white gown made of silk and lace and look over a canyon with no way to cross. My feet are perched on the edge, toes hanging over the deep abyss of red and gold with clouds billowing below me.

In this world of dreams, I consider jumping and letting the clouds catch me in a puffy bed of cotton, but I don't.

A force pulls at me. On the other side of the canyon a girl reaches for me.

Her silky auburn hair floats behind her in the wind. Though she is far away, my eyes zoom in on her like binoculars, and I can see each heart-breaking tear as it slides down her cheek.

Her voice breaks through the clouds and sends them scattering like scared mice. "Please, help me."

"Where are you? What happened?"

Something pulls her from behind, pulls her away from me. She cries out again. "Please!"

"What's your name?"

One last cry and she is gone, but her last word hangs on the wind. "Serena."

I fall to my knees and sob. Serena, Gar's gifted daughter. Her father had died trying to save me and now I must repay the debt. I must save Serena.

My dream changes and I sit in a dark attic, chained to a bed. No! I don't want to be here. No!

The Seeker, my brother—his memories pull at me. His powers flow in me and crash into my mind, straining and cracking me.

He knew how to find Serena before he died. And now his father, our father, knows.

I must save her.

I need to wake up.

The dream locks its teeth into me like a rabid bulldog, but I fight it and push away.

Harder. Fight harder.

The dream teeth tear through my flesh, and still I push.

Like getting stabbed in the stomach, carved apart from the inside. Pain pins me to my unconscious world like a bug stuck on a board as part of a collection.

It rips me apart. My body is turned inside out and something spills from my body and onto my bed.

***

I jerked awake in my bed, flushed with sweat and stinking of fear, but the pain of my dreams continued to torture me. Gasping and wracked in pain, I hollered for someone, anyone to help.

Who would come? Drake? He wouldn't come. Drake had left me and our baby and wouldn't be back. I thought I'd accepted that, moved on without him, prepared myself for life as a single mother. Now, with the moment of birth so close, my mind latched onto thoughts of him, and I hated myself for still needing him—hated that I felt so alone.