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“That depends on your point of view.” His attention was on the screen, his reply almost absent.

She leaned forward, her face close to his. As she stared at the screen, her nostrils filled with his warm, spicy aroma. “That’s gibberish.”

“Indeed.” He glanced up as two medics entered. “Finley’s in unit three.”

She waited until the two medics, carrying Finley on a stretcher, had left. “Have you tried retrieving anything?”

“Computer, update on test results for Samantha Ryan.”

“Voice identification required.”

“Stern, Assistant Director. Badge number 5019.”

“Voice verified. Request processing.”

The com-unit hummed softly. “Results for test subject Samantha Ryan unavailable.”

“Why?”

The com-unit hummed for several more seconds. “Results for test subject Samantha Ryan unavailable.”

“Sounds like it’s been looped.”

He nodded. His gaze, when it met hers, was grim. “Someone doesn’t want us nosing around your genetic history.”

“Put like that, I’m not sure if I do, either.” She glanced back at the screen. “How could they simply walk in here and do that? I thought the SIU had a top security system.”

“We have retina and voice ID, but sometimes that doesn’t mean much.”

Not when shifters could take alternate forms at will. But even if shifters lacked that ability, no system was truly safe. Jack could have gotten in here. Had gotten in here, if the drunken boast she’d overheard one night was true. “But why would they bother stopping anyone getting access to my files? I’m not so special.”

“Aren’t you?” He leaned back in the chair and studied her for a moment. “You sensed the kites. You sensed that Jack had become a vampire. And despite the psychic deadeners we have in place, you knew the shifter was in here.”

The intensity of his gaze cut right through her, stirring something deep in her soul. Something she had no desire to feel when it came to this man. Suddenly uneasy, she cleared her throat and looked back at the screen. “I was tested for psychic ability when I entered the academy. I came up with a big fat zero.”

“Most talents come on with full maturity.”

She shot him a quick look. His gaze was calculating, thoughtful. He knows. That’s what the second set of biological tests had been about. They’d obviously discovered what she’d known since she was fifteen: that she’d never fully mature as a woman, because the parts necessary to carry a child had never fully developed. She’d never have children of her own. Not unless she had a complete uterus and ovary transplant. And even then, the children would never really be hers. She supposed she should be grateful that she’d at least developed breasts, and that she could have sex just fine, but she wasn’t. Having a family of her own had been the one dream she could remember through the fog that was her childhood.

“You obviously know that can’t be the case here. I’m twenty-nine. A little past puberty, I think.”

He shrugged. “Shapechangers tend to mature a lot later than humans. All six of my sisters were well into their thirties before they actually started menstruating.”

That was really a little more info than she needed about his sisters. “But I’m human, not a shapechanger!”

“Maybe that unknown chromosome we found has delayed your development in much the same manner.” She shook her head. “They ran all manner of tests on me when I was fifteen. They all came up with the same answer. This was it; this was all I was going to get.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You resent it, don’t you?”

She snorted softly. Of course she resented it. “You don’t know how lucky you are, having sisters, brothers, a family. I have nothing. Not even memories.”

He leaned forward, covering her hand with his. His touch was warm, comforting, and yet at the same time, electric. As if they were two opposing currents that had briefly merged and become one stronger identity. Her gaze jerked to his. If he felt the elemental surge of energy between them, there was no sign of it in his eyes. Only compassion.

And in many ways, that was the more frightening response. This man seemed to understand her entirely too well.

“Maybe the answers we seek lie in the past you can’t remember.”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

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