Page 69 of Gorgeous Misery

“Eye color has everything to do with it. Because those blue eyes, they come with a certain gene that helps control them. The girls?” I say. Because Merc already looks confused.

“Right. I get that part. But what about James? He doesn’t have blue eyes either.”

I point at Merc. “Good observation. No. James and Vincent do not have blue eyes. Same way I don’t. Or Harper and Santos. They did experiments on this in the Seventies. I don’t understand the science, so don’t ask me how they know this shit, but certain behaviors can be tied to the gene that expresses eye color. They did all the combinations. Blue, green, brown and… hazel.”

Merc shrugs. “OK. So? What happened?”

“Not much, actually. The blue eyes were desirable, obviously. Because in girls, at least, it toned down the insanity. Didn’t work that way for the men, that’s why the Company stopped breeding boys for the Zero program. What we have now, with these blue-eyed Zero girls, that’s as controllable as they come. With either careful or sloppy breeding they come out like Sasha. See, Sasha wasn’t a real Zero. She was a mix. Sloppy breeding saved Sasha. She and Lauren, they’re the only sloppy examples that I know of though.”

Merc doesn’t say anything, but I can hear all the questions in his mind. What about my girls? Were they carefully bred?

It’s Harrison who asks the question. “What’s this got to do with Daphne, Avery, and Lily?”

“Don’t forget baby Hannah,” I add. Because I need Merc to understand that he’s not alone in this. We’re on the same side.

Merc isn’t looking at me. He’s staring blankly at the curtains covering the hotel window. “Hannah, huh.” He looks at me. “What about Angelica?”

“She’s a real Zero. That’s why we were hunting her that year. She was very carefully bred. Like this Indie girl that Adam has. Like Wendy too.”

Merc’s eyes narrow down into slits. “Spit it out, Nick. What are you not saying?”

“I already told you. Your girls came from Carter Couture’s program. They were carefully bred, but not in the same way. Carter was looking for a more… pliable… version, I guess you’d call it.”

“Pliable, as in—”

“Easily manipulated.”

Merc lets out a breath. “OK. So that’s good, right? They’ve got the blue eyes and they’ve conformed. They don’t act out, Nick. They’re not like that. They’re good kids.”

I put up my hands again. “I’m not hunting your girls, Merc.”

“Then why are you telling me all this?”

“Because I think you and Carter Couture need to have a conversation about it. Or one day you might wake up to something very unexpected. You and I both know you’re gonna help Adam save Donovan. But just in case you get cold feet, I want you to know you’ve got something to lose if he dies as well. Now.” I pause to suck in a deep breath. “Where the fuck is Wendy?”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN - WENDY

NOT SURE WHAT DAY IT IS

NOT SURE ABOUT ANYTHING RIGHT NOW BECAUSE…

Something is wrong.

Wrong? No. That’s not the right word. The sick feeling in my stomach is familiar. I know it well. It’s the signal that I missed a very important detail and now I’m about to pay the price for this fuckup.

“Wendy.”

I feel like time has somehow… skipped. But I’m still on the phone with Merc and his voice is stern now. Commanding.

“Answer my question.”

I don’t even remember the question. I feel like an eternity has gone by since we last spoke. But it doesn’t matter. I wouldn’t be answering it, even if I did. I slam the phone back into the cradle and spin around. And then take a good, long look at Nick’s house.

It looks the same. I mean… I recognize the dishes in the sink. The curtains. The old table in the middle of the kitchen. The view outside. That all looks right.

I turn and go into the living room, scanning it with a critical eye. Couch, coffee table, more curtains. The wood floors, the rugs, even pillows. It’s all… right.

But nothing about this is right.