Revelations (20 page)

Jonas came up behind me and put his arms around my waist, resting his chin on my shoulder.

“They told me you didn’t exist,” Christian said, unable to remove his eyes from the photograph. “They said I was alone in the car when it crashed.”

“They told me the same thing,” I said. “But I knew.”

He looked up at me, green eyes meeting green eyes. “What happened to you?”

“I was in a coma for three years and six months,” I told him. I could go into even more detail, giving him minutes and seconds too, but I didn’t. I knew them; I took the time one day and figured it all out. I wanted to know how much of my life had been taken away from me in a split second.

Christian looked back at the pic of my battered head then he looked back at me. He didn’t need to say it. I knew what he was thinking. I should be dead, yet here I was, standing before him. Completely intact.

“What is going on here?” Tara asked, moving away from Christian, still unable to look back at the photos. “I don’t understand.”

“I’m not sure I do either,” Christian said. He stood and went to me.

Jonas backed off.

Christian looked me over, touched my head where it caved in, and placed his palm against my cheek. “What is there to understand?” he said suddenly. “She’s my daughter. I love her. That’s enough.” He leaned forward and kissed my cheek, sliding his palm away.

“I need an explanation,” Tara said fiercely. “Of the car accident. Of this girl. Of him!” Her voice rose to fever pitch as she pointed at Jonas.

Feeling overly protective, I stepped in front of Jonas. Jonas lifted his chin, his eyes staring out from beneath lowered lids. He hid from society all his years at the Commune, but he was used to this kind of thing, having experienced enough of it during his childhood. So he said to me, “It’s okay. You’re actually harder to explain than I am.”

Jonas stepped around me and stood proud in the middle of the kitchen. Christian, who hadn’t really paid much attention to the details of Jonas’s face, took a good look. I was about to start explaining the reasons for my love’s appearance but Jonas took over.

“I was born in a laboratory in Nevada,” Jonas said. His eyes roamed from Christian to Tara if only to watch their reactions. “I was five-years-old when I escaped. My DNA is spliced with some type of reptilian DNA. Hence the scales. I’m also cold-blooded with an average body temperature in the seventies. And I’m madly in love with your daughter.” He hesitated then added with a small smile, “Sir.”

Christian gave Jonas the absolute broadest smile he could manage. Tara had other ideas. She walked over to Jonas and looked up into his face. He stood his ground as she went all the way around him, giving him a thorough examination.

“Look at his eyes,” Tara said as she came back around to face him. “I’ve never seen eyes like that before.”

“And you never will again,” I said, feeling my own pride swell at the knowledge that he was mine and mine alone. I went to Jonas and grasped his hand. He brought my hand to his lips and kissed it.

“What about you?” Tara said, feeling more confident in this strange situation she found herself in.

“Me?” I said, practically stabbing myself in the chest with my free thumb.

“Those pictures,” she said, shuddering. “Nobody could survive that.”

I bit into my lower lip. I didn’t know where to start, what to say or even whether I should say anything at all. This was how I’d gotten into trouble before. Christian stepped in.

He opened a drawer and pulled out a small, almost familiar looking paring knife. Tara protested, but she quieted when he shook his head. “It’s okay, hon,” he said. He handed the small knife to me as he said to his wife, “You can never speak about this to anyone. Nobody. No matter who asks or who you come across. You can never speak of this.”

“But why?” Tara asked.

“Promise me,” Christian said.

Tara only nodded, but I knew she was unsure; not that I blamed her in the slightest.

I stepped away from Jonas and walked over near the sink. I held my left wrist out so all could see what I was about to do. I clenched my fist and drew the knife blade over my skin. The blade was dull so it took some force, but in a moment I drew a good amount of blood.

“What are you doing?!” Tara screamed the moment she saw the blood. She tried to dart forward, but Christian caught her arm.

“Watch,” Christian said, holding her tightly.

Tara watched. She watched the wound in my arm seal itself, saw the blood seep back into my veins. Her mouth hung agape as I washed off the wound and I showed her the newly healed skin. “How?” she said, unable to continue.

It was now my turn to explain. “My mother died when I was five or six. I lived in an orphanage until I turned eighteen, when I went to find my father. Christian. During my life in the orphanage, a man came to take me away each weekend. He took me to his lab and experimented on me. I believe he was trying to kill me. But he couldn’t. What he did to me only made me stronger, capable of healing with the touch of my hands.” I held up both my hands for emphasis. I realized I was still holding the knife, and I let it drop into the sink. “I can also read minds.”

“This is a joke,” Tara said as she vigorously shook her head. “He’s got really great makeup on, and she must have switched out the knife somehow. It’s not real.”

“It’s real,” Christian said. “I was dying of cancer when she found me. She cured me.”

“It’s all lies,” Tara said, backing away from all of us. “Lies.” She moved towards her son, fearing suddenly for his life.

“Nobody’s going to hurt Reagan,” I said, reading her thoughts.

Her eyes teared up in fear.

“Tara,” Christian said. “Honey, there’s nothing to be afraid of. This is all real. Nobody’s lying to you.”

Christian went to his wife, took her hand and brought it to his lips, just as Jonas did to mine. He put his hand on the side of her head and kissed her lips. She didn’t balk, didn’t try to pull away. Instead, she relaxed in his grip and returned his kiss. I could easily see she still trembled.

“It’ll be okay,” he told her. “Now, go put Reagan to bed. I need to talk to my daughter. We have a lot of catching up to do.”

Tara did as she was told and went into the living room. She gathered up her son in her arms and held him close to her. “Good night!” Reagan yelled to us and waved as his mother carried him off.

“Night,” I said.

Christian sat back down at the kitchen table and gestured for me to do the same. I did so, and Jonas followed suit, unwilling to leave my side— not that he had anywhere to go.

“Are they hunting you?” my father asked once it was safe to talk in such a way.

“Yes,” I said. “I healed a little girl at a hospital in Las Vegas. She had brain cancer. She was dying. They tracked me back to our home.” I looking over at Jonas, who looked away from me. “They destroyed it. Killed everyone there.”

“My gods,” Christian said. That was one of my sayings, as I don’t believe in the one god theory. I don’t know how he picked it out of my head. He hadn’t heard me say it, and said “god” in the singular before and…never mind.

“Jonas and I weren’t there,” I continued, somehow ignoring my own thoughts. “We’re the only ones who survived.” I thought of Hermione, but I was unwilling to talk about her.

“I’m sorry,” Christian said.

“Earlier today, we broke into the old Cannon base,” I said. “That’s where we pulled the file. I need to go back there. We left in a hurry, and we left some things behind. There are more files I need, files on the people who died at our home. Maybe more files on myself.”

Jonas gazed at me, surprised, but said nothing. He had no intention of going back to the base until I brought it up.

“You broke into the base?” Christian repeated.

“Well, not really broke into,” I corrected. “I just kept us hidden from prying eyes.”

Christian didn’t question what I meant when I said, “hidden.” He understood. Then he surprised me. “I’ll go with you.”

“I’m not asking you to do this,” I said.

“I know,” he said. “If they have files on you, they must have files on me.” He looked out into the living room to make sure we were still alone. He then said in a whisper, “When I woke up, the first thing I did was ask about you. They said I was alone in the car when it crashed. I knew they were lying, but, after what happened to us, I felt it safer to go along. I’ve been searching for you since that day. But it was like you disappeared off the face of the planet.”

He sighed then continued. “That woman. Tara. She isn’t my wife. She was at my bedside when I woke up. She claimed she was my wife, that we’d just been married only a month before. I didn’t know her and she knew little about me. The doctors said it was because of a head injury that I didn’t remember her, that I thought there was someone else in the car with me. I knew the truth. Tara’s a good person, and I care about her. I don’t love her. I’m sure they brainwashed her into thinking she’s my wife. She remembers things that never happened. It’s like the accident. She knows something happened to me, but she doesn’t quite know what. Anyway, it isn’t her fault. I couldn’t blame her. We got pregnant with Reagan almost immediately after I woke up. Now you’re back. And I know it is all a lie.”

I couldn’t think of anything to say. Christian’s words were all truth. Tara probably was brainwashed into believing she was his wife, that they had a life together before the accident that wasn’t. Tara didn’t know any better. She only knew what was in her head. I felt kinda bad for her, though I knew I could never tell her the truth. Neither could Christian.

“That’s why you can’t go with us,” I said to him.

“Why?”

“Because you have a son,” I said. “And a wife who thinks she loves you. You can’t risk your family for me.”

“You are my family,” Christian said. “My real family. And you won’t be able to stop me.”

“I can,” Jonas chimed in, his eyes bright.

I smiled at my amber eyed love. “He can, you know,” I said. “Jonas has an iron fist.”

Christian shook his head. “I have to go,” he said. “I need to know the truth.”

“Though Truth and Falsehood be near twins,” I muttered, unable to help myself.

Jonas heard me and let out a laugh. It was the first time I’d heard him really laugh in days. Christian didn’t comment.

After a moment of silence during which Christian stared long and hard at me, I said, “Okay. But on my terms.”

“Okay,” he said. “I can get us in there.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“I have clearance.” He grinned. “They keep planes I sometimes take out for joyrides, so the equipment doesn’t get rusty. I never go into the buildings though. I keep to the hanger. I can get you through the gates. You just get us into the buildings.”

It was decided.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

I didn’t bother to listen in on Christian and Tara’s arguing during the night. Jonas and I stayed up in the guest room, but we were close enough to hear the muffled voices coming from the master bedroom. We didn’t speak about it. I kept Reagan asleep so he wouldn’t hear the fighting. From what I did hear, she wanted him to stay away from Cannon the next day, thinking it dangerous and he’d get into trouble. That was enough for me and I did my best to go to sleep.

In the morning, at seven o’clock, Jonas and I climbed into the trunk of Christian’s car. It was just a precaution; I’d keep us safe no matter what, but Christian was more comfortable with that. The Lexus had a roomy enough trunk so Jonas and I weren’t too squished. It still wasn’t very comfortable. We rode in silence, my mind following along with Christian’s so I knew where we were at all times. At the gate, I felt a hint of panic, though Christian’s ID got him in without question. He parked near the hanger and unlocked the trunk from inside the car. Keeping a close hold over the minds of nearby soldiers, I got out and Jonas followed.

Jonas and I went into the hanger behind Christian. I didn’t bother to keep my father hidden from prying eyes. The soldiers there knew him and were used to him being there.

In the hanger, I took a moment to look around. There were five large planes housed here. I didn’t know jack shit about aircraft, and I kept close to Christian. He went over to a big bi-plane and walked around to the prop. I really don’t know shit about planes and picked up this lingo from Christian’s mind.

“Taking her out today?” a young soldier asked.

“Yeah,” Christian said, placing a hand on the plane’s nose. “Was thinking about it.”

“You haven’t been up in the Shark for a while,” the soldier said, joining Christian beside the plane.

“I know,” Christian said. “Maybe I will today.”

“Let me know,” the soldier said. “I’ve got my rounds, but I love to watch you fly.”

Christian smiled. “Thanks,” he said to the soldier. The soldier walked out of the hanger to resume his apparent rounds. To me Christian said, “Okay, Christiana. It’s up to you now.”

It was later in the day than the first time I’d been there and there were lots more minds to hold onto. I was expecting more security around the file room, but as it looked like nothing had been taken—because of Jonas’s quick thinking in replacing the files we’d set out on the floor, though he couldn’t resist taking the one he did—there was only one guard. He stayed on the outside of the experiment room because nobody wanted to stand guard inside the room with all those undead bodies. He was easily taken care of. He forgot all about me and my partners in crime before he even laid eyes on us. Staring straight ahead, the poor soldier just stood there as we strolled right past him.