Hunted (Talented Saga # 3) (26 page)

“Exactly. A dual Talent has two distinct signatures, both specific to them. What’s odd about yours is they aren’t.”

“What?!”
I exclaimed. “What do you mean mine aren’t specific to me? Are they specific to someone else?”

Erik sent me calming vibes.
I took a couple deep breaths to regain my composure. My hysterics wouldn’t make the situation any better, likely much worse.

“Well, one of your signatures is unique to you.
When I analyzed it, I was able to tell you are a Mental Manipulator with telekinetic powers and some control over the elements. Does that sound right?” she asked calmly, her eyes darting between me and Erik.

I wondered whether she understood the mental messages passing back and forth.

“Yeah, she can do all that,” Erik answered for me.

My own mouth was still gaping from her statement about the two Talent Signatures.
I was clearly a couple paces behind the two of them.

“The second signature is a generic one,” she continued.
“When I analyzed it, I found the signature is a generic morphing signature.” Anya uneasily fixed me with a wan expression.

A Morphing Signature?
That was impossible; I’d never been able to morph. And when I’d taken my Placement Testing, there was no indication that I had the ability to morph, even at a very low level. I stared at her dumbfounded, unable to speak because I had no idea what to say. I looked to Erik and was alarmed to find relief and understanding written on his face.

Did he know something that he wasn’t telling me?
Surely, if I had the ability to morph, then Erik would know. He would be able to mimic the power. Yet, if he’d known this whole time, why hadn’t he said something? Or had he? This was what he’d been debating telling me that day in the hotel room, I realized. He’d even suggested that I was a dual Talent. That being shot somehow caused the second Talent to emerge.

“I can’t morph,” I told Anya, because I couldn’t.
No matter what Erik thought or what my blood indicated, that fact still remained.

“You would be able to if you weren’t taking that suppressant,” Anya replied evenly.

I sat back in my chair, letting the weight of her words sink in. If what she was saying was true, and I kind of thought it might be, then a couple of things that had happened to me over the past year made a lot more sense.

Morphers
had extremely heightened senses. Mine had always been good because of the sensory perception exercises Mac made me do, but not like they were lately. Even Erik had noticed how much better my eyesight and hearing had been since my return from Nevada. The night I confronted Penny, I swore my nails turned to claws and that my teeth sharpened, but when I had tried to explain that to Dr. Wythe, he’d said I was confused and delusional. I hadn’t taken my medicine that evening in my haste to find Penny, which was probably why I’d partially morphed. Partially morphed. I repeated the words over and over in my head, trying to get used to the idea.

When I’d sparred with Erik earlier in the week, I’d beaten him for the first time ever.
He swore he hadn’t let me win. At the time, I’d thought he was just trying to make me feel good, but now I doubted that was true. Morphers typically have a strength that’s hard to compete with in a fight, and seeing as I was already close to Erik’s exceptional skill, the combination would be unbeatable.

This new development even explained my ridiculous mood swings and excessive reactions to certain situations.
Not that I wasn’t prone to out-of-control responses to stress, but lately, I’d been more irrational than usual. Donavon once explained that Morphers feel things more intensely than others. Most learn to control their reactions when they’re young; they have to if they want to have any friends. Someone just learning to deal with her new emotions wouldn’t be able to handle her new impulses, though. Even my physical reactions to Erik’s touch were more visceral than before. I’d practically begged him to have sex with me more than once. My cheeks flamed at the memory.

When I looked at Erik, I knew that he, too, was remembering some of the same events I was.
Understanding lit up turquoise eyes. There was something I still couldn’t comprehend.

“Why would Mac want to suppress that?” I looked at Anya, hoping that she’d have a good explanation.
Then, another question occurred to me. “Why would Crane want me to be able to morph? I mean, why would he have injected me with something that would make me stronger? I didn’t even know that was possible.” I looked back and forth between Erik and Anya. They seemed to be having a silent conversation. Both had worked out the conundrum I was still trying to process. My temper flared when I realized that I was the only one not in on the secret.

“What?!?”
I demanded, yanking my hand free from Erik’s and sitting forward in my chair.

Erik rubbed my back, trying to calm me.
I wanted to swat his patronizing hand away, but I refrained when I realized that I was succumbing to my heightened emotions. You’re stronger than this, I commanded myself.

“I don’t think the Coalition was the one who injected you with whatever it is that gave you the ability to morph,” Anya said slowly, looking a little fearful at my display of uncalled for rage.
“You received several blood transfusions after you were shot?”

“Yes,” I confirmed, comprehension dawning on me.

“One of them was of unfiltered blood, right?” she continued quietly.

“Yes,” I said tightly.
So, Donavon’s blood had made me sick.

“I believe it was that transfusion that is giving you ‘seizures’,” she confirmed my thoughts.
“Except they aren’t exactly seizures. Your body is trying to morph. It’s a natural instinct and it wants to act on it, but it can’t because of the suppressant. You are strong, though, and your system is fighting the suppressant, so sometimes, you start to morph, but can’t and that is when you have these ‘seizures’ or whatever,” she explained.

I tried to digest the information.
My head swam and for a minute, I thought that I might pass out. Her explanation made sense. It actually wasn’t that far off from what Dr. Thistler had told me, except for the part about it being because my body was trying to morph. Dr. Thistler had said that my body was trying to fight the chemicals, and sometimes, when I exerted a lot of energy, it couldn’t. But if what Anya was claiming was true, then when I was sparring or in a stressful situation, my system was trying to change, a natural defense mechanism, to protect itself. I rested my elbows on the table and put my head in my hands, fighting the tears back.

Was this really so terrible, though?
So, now I could morph. That wasn’t such a big deal. I just had to learn to control myself. And if anything, my new ability honestly was a gift; it made me stronger. I would be a better Hunter now. Yet, if this were all true, why didn’t Mac just tell me? Was he that worried about my mental state? Did he think I couldn’t handle it? Or was there more to it? And Donavon had sworn I couldn’t “catch” a Talent like one did a virus.

“I thought you couldn’t transfer Talents?” I asked
, my voice muffled since I still had my head down.

“Ordinarily, you can’t,” Erik said, continuing to rub my back.

“No, if they’d given you, say, Erik’s blood, then there wouldn’t have been a problem,” Anya confirmed.

“What are you talking about?” I demanded, raising my head to meet her gaze.

“The unwashed blood you were given wasn’t the blood of a natural Talent,” she replied quietly. “You remember how I said the second Talent Signature was generic?”

I nodded dumbly.
This conversation was becoming increasingly more complex by the second. What the hell was a “natural talent”? All Talents were born that way - naturally. Wasn’t that what “natural” meant?

“A generic Talent Signature is synthetic, man-made.
Toxic has long had the ability to manufacture Talent Signatures. What’s unusual is that I found it in your blood and it was transferred from another person. My understanding is that the Agency has never been able to implant the signature into a person successfully and then have them exhibit the Talent,” she explained.

“So, let me get this straight,” Erik snorted.
“What you’re saying is that Toxic has been researching how to create Talents?” He shook his head in disbelief. “That’s crazy.”

“Theoretically, Toxic has the ability to make Talents, yes,” she confirmed.
“But it’s still supposed to be in development. It’s been tested over the years, but no person we’ve implanted the signatures in has ever actually become Talented or at least not long term.” She paused. “Well, I guess at least one has.”

“So, you’re saying Donavon, Donavon McDonough, the Director’s son, is not a natural Talent?
He wasn’t born with the ability to Morph? His powers are manufactured?” I demanded incredulously. I wasn’t sure whether I was more surprised that Toxic could create Talents or that Donavon was one of the created.

“Yes, that’s what I’m saying,” Anya replied softly.
“You see, the generic signatures have a version of the amplification drug we give the children during aptitude testing, except much stronger and more complex. That is what, in theory, makes the powers kind of stick in a person’s system.”

“How are the generic signatures made?” Erik wanted to know.

“From the blood of other Talents. The genes that create our gifts are isolated and then enhanced and mixed with a bunch of chemicals. That’s why any time an Operative bleeds on a mission, anything contaminated must be burned. Toxic is afraid that if the Coalition gets a hold of a Talent’s blood, they might be able to use it to create Talents of their own,” Anya answered.

Create Talents?
Why would the Coalition want to do that? Crane hates Talents. That was the whole point of his rebellion. But I didn’t have the energy to argue the point with her. I was more worried about our Agency manufacturing Operatives. If Donavon weren’t a natural Morpher, then how many others weren’t either? How many children had been infected with these generic signatures in the hopes they would develop powers? If people were angry about the Mandatory Testing laws, then what would they do when they found out about this?

Suddenly, it all made sense.
Mac and Dr. Thistler hadn’t wanted me to know that it was Donavon’s blood making me sick because Mack knew I would investigate. And Mac yelled at Donavon in Kansas because Donavon knew the ramifications of giving me his unwashed blood.

Donavon knew he was created.
How had he kept such a powerful secret from me? Earlier today, I’d thought finding out he had a kid was the biggest shock of my life, but that paled in comparison to this. No wonder he wanted to keep Alex away from the Agency. Except Alex was a natural Talent, an incredibly strong, rare natural talent.

Oh, my god.
That was what Kandice meant when she’d said they would use Alex the same way they’d used me. If Toxic could replicate the abilities of rare Talents, then they wouldn’t be so rare anymore. They could create tons of people that were able to manipulate minds or remotely track others or mimic other’s powers. Mac was using my blood to create more Mind Manipulators. He would use Alex to make more Viewers. The betrayal never ended.

“Anya, does anyone know that you were researching this?” Erik asked
, his voice laced with concern.

“I don’t think so.
I was careful. Once I realized what was going on, I did a lot of the analysis at home. I figure if the Agency does actually have the capability to create Talents and is doing it to unsuspecting children, well, then I doubt they want that widely known,” she commented.

“Is Toxic injecting random children with these generic signatures?” I asked.

“I don’t know for sure.” Anya shook her head. “Like I said, as far as I’ve been told, being able to create a Talent is just a theory. I doubt Donavon McDonough is the only one, though.”

“No,” I agreed.
“Mac obviously isn’t above experimenting on his own son, but he won’t have tested a prototype on Donavon.”

“Anya, you need to be careful.
If you suspect that anyone knows what you did, you need to get out of Washington. Do you still have that communicator I gave you?” Erik asked, rising from the table.

“Yes,” she answered fearfully.

“And you remember what I told you?”

“Call Frederick.”
She nodded, true horror forming creases in her forehead.

I gave him a questioning look.
“
Frederick? Like, Henri’s Frederick?”
I sent.

“I’ll explain later,”
he replied, offering me his hand.

I took it and stood on unsteady legs.
I was still reeling from Anya’s findings and worried I might fall when I tried to walk.

“What are you going to do?” Anya asked, standing herself.

“I need to get Talia out of here, out of D.C., away from Toxic. They’re already monitoring her too closely. It’s only a matter of time before they find out she knows what happened to her,” he replied.

“Be careful, both of you,” she replied.

“Thank you, for everything,” I said honestly and this time when she came around the table to hug me, I wrapped my arms around her tightly. She’d taken an enormous risk doing this for us, for me, and I didn’t want her to think I was unappreciative. Granted, I knew the only reason she’d gotten involved was because Erik had asked her to, but still.