Page 134 of Wicked Nightmare

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 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 your skin. Remind you who you are. You don't belong to them. You belong to me."

Her voice lingered, her fingers caressing 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 conscience. 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."

My skin went cold. "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 of.

"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."

But even as I said it, more of my past flickered at the edges of my mind. The endless challenges. The way they'd praised my ability to lie, to manipulate, to kill. How they'd encouraged my worst impulses, rewarding me for cruelty.

Fuck. What if Sarah was right? There's no way humans are born as devoid of empathy as I am. Only, I wasn't fully devoid, was I? There was my love for Lakey, my "feelings" for Rose. Every day that we didn't kill for fun was another day further from what was comfortable for me. Safe. I couldn't decide if that was a gift or a curse.

I closed my eyes, trying to shut out the world, but all I could see was that foster home that went up in flames. The overcrowded rooms, the constant fear. And Lakey, tiny, vicious Lakey, standing over a woman in a lab coat with a book of matches and murder in her eyes.

Had that been part of the plan all along?

"We need to dig deeper," Sarah was saying, her words barely penetrating the fog in my brain. "Find out how far this goes, who's really behind it all."

I nodded mechanically, not trusting myself to speak. What if we were exactly what they wanted us to be?

And what the fuck did that make us?

Rose's voice cut through my spiraling thoughts, sharp and tinged with desperation. "But what about our families? Our parents? They can't all be... fabricated, right?"

I opened my eyes to see her looking frantically between Sarah and Lakey, searching for reassurance. Back to this fucking question.

"Oh, sweetie, I'm just going to be honest since you keep fuckin' asking," Lakey said, crossing her arms. "I hate to break it to you, but if they haven't found you by now, they're probably dead, or wishing they were. Or probably didn't even exist, in which case, count your lucky stars."

I snorted, grateful for Lakey's twisted humor. It grounded me, pulling me back from the edge. "Look on the bright side, Rosie," I drawled, forcing a smirk. "At least you're not alone in this shitstorm. We're all fucked up together. You at least had parents. Maybe. Probably. We were likely the result of some dude jizzing into a tube and spewing out some random clump of cells, only to be injected into the bag we called our home for nine months."

Sarah shot me a withering glare. "Real helpful, Cam."

I shrugged, leaning back in my seat. "What? You want me to lie and say everything's sunshine and rainbows? That's more your department, isn't it?"

Kyle glared at me in the mirror, but I couldn't stop myself. Push and provoke. It's what I do best. Anything to keep from examining my own demons too closely.

Lakey tried to distract me with some more off-color jokes, but beneath the banter, I could see the concern in her eyes. She could sense the storm brewing just beneath my skin. She was trying to grab me. To pull me back from the edge of the pit that the devil was trying to drag me down into. I wanted to reach out, to feel her warmth against me, but I held back. Some wounds are too raw to touch, even for her.

Rose was going on about some mystery woman that she supposedly remembered from the orphanage. I was beginning to doubt some of her memories because she always had yet another thing she randomly remembered.

Lakey turned back to Rose. "So, this mystery woman. Any other details you can dredge up from that Swiss cheese brain of yours?"