contents of his own glass, and raised it for another round as the waitress passed. “It started out as curiosity. I wanted to know how she did it. How she cured me. I needed to know… But then, as I got deeper and deeper, I saw the potential.”
“Potential?”
A gleam of excitement flickered in his eyes, and he leaned closer. “These strands—the possibilities are endless. You can’t even begin to know the sequencing potential. There must be some of them out there, ones whose abilities are dangerous—to themselves as well as others. What if I could predict that? Maybe change the outcome? It could mean the difference between a normal life and misery.”
I thought about my cousin’s boyfriend, Kale. His skin was lethal to any living thing it touched. Until he met Dez. At least until recently, she was the only person he’d ever had physical contact with. What if Wentz’s research could change that? What if it could give Sixes like Kale a chance at a normal life?
There were a lot of ifs, but one thing was certain. Now, more than ever, I had to get that formula before Denazen did.
Before Devin did…
Chapter Ten
As I lay in bed trying to keep my eyes open, Wentz’s words played over and over again in my head.
With a little more time, I can manipulate the abnormality—maybe even change it…
Everything made perfect sense with the confirmation that Wentz might be able to manipulate the Six mutation. I bet Denazen’s interest in the notes on Dromin12 was more about starting a new Supremacy trial than it was about curing the old one. If Wentz was as brilliant as they said, and he really could manipulate the abnormality, that might result in a successful Supremacy trial. One without the side effects.
I slipped into the darkness, thinking about Anderson and uncle Marshal and the kind of damage they could do if they got their hands on Wentz’s research, and still somehow managed to dive into Devin’s dream instead of my planned trip to Ginger to update her on what I’d found.
The landscape was different from last night. I entered the dream, stepping into a brightly lit ballroom. It was crowded and soft music filled the air as men in tuxedos twirled girls in fluffy gowns around the middle of the room. Looking down at my own attire—a pair of black boxers and a T-shirt decorated in tiny skulls—I frowned. This wouldn’t work. I imagined the tux I’d seen my dad wear when he’d accepted an award for Journalist of the Year. A moment later, I was looking slick in shiny shoes and a well-tailored penguin suit. Not the most comfortable get-up in the world, but hey, I looked sharp.
I entered the room, and searched for Devin. When my eyes found her standing in the corner, it was all I could do not to hyperventilate. Her chestnut hair was swept atop her head, several curly strands falling on either side of her face. The dark purple dress she wore hugged her midsection tight, then fanned out at the waist and fell to the floor. Each time she moved, the skirt swayed, revealing a hint of silver at each toe.
Heart spazzing like a jackhammer gone rogue, I crossed the floor and made my way to her, one step at a time. A part of my brain was getting a kick out of this. I was in a dream. Someone else’s dream. And here I was getting ready to piss myself over talking to some girl.
Dez would be laughing her ass off if she could see this.
“Hey,” I said, stopping in front of her. Awesome. Now my palms were sweating. Did dream sweat stink?
God, I hoped not.
She turned, startled as if seeing me for the first time, and her face fell. Not exactly the reception I’d hoped for. For a second, I worried I’d reverted to Cain, but when I glanced down at my hand and saw familiar skin marred with long forgotten scars, relief washed over me.
“Brandt?”
“Forget me already?” I joked, and tried to take her hand, but she pulled away.
“What are you doing here? You have to leave. Now!”
“Leave? What
“Potential?”
A gleam of excitement flickered in his eyes, and he leaned closer. “These strands—the possibilities are endless. You can’t even begin to know the sequencing potential. There must be some of them out there, ones whose abilities are dangerous—to themselves as well as others. What if I could predict that? Maybe change the outcome? It could mean the difference between a normal life and misery.”
I thought about my cousin’s boyfriend, Kale. His skin was lethal to any living thing it touched. Until he met Dez. At least until recently, she was the only person he’d ever had physical contact with. What if Wentz’s research could change that? What if it could give Sixes like Kale a chance at a normal life?
There were a lot of ifs, but one thing was certain. Now, more than ever, I had to get that formula before Denazen did.
Before Devin did…
Chapter Ten
As I lay in bed trying to keep my eyes open, Wentz’s words played over and over again in my head.
With a little more time, I can manipulate the abnormality—maybe even change it…
Everything made perfect sense with the confirmation that Wentz might be able to manipulate the Six mutation. I bet Denazen’s interest in the notes on Dromin12 was more about starting a new Supremacy trial than it was about curing the old one. If Wentz was as brilliant as they said, and he really could manipulate the abnormality, that might result in a successful Supremacy trial. One without the side effects.
I slipped into the darkness, thinking about Anderson and uncle Marshal and the kind of damage they could do if they got their hands on Wentz’s research, and still somehow managed to dive into Devin’s dream instead of my planned trip to Ginger to update her on what I’d found.
The landscape was different from last night. I entered the dream, stepping into a brightly lit ballroom. It was crowded and soft music filled the air as men in tuxedos twirled girls in fluffy gowns around the middle of the room. Looking down at my own attire—a pair of black boxers and a T-shirt decorated in tiny skulls—I frowned. This wouldn’t work. I imagined the tux I’d seen my dad wear when he’d accepted an award for Journalist of the Year. A moment later, I was looking slick in shiny shoes and a well-tailored penguin suit. Not the most comfortable get-up in the world, but hey, I looked sharp.
I entered the room, and searched for Devin. When my eyes found her standing in the corner, it was all I could do not to hyperventilate. Her chestnut hair was swept atop her head, several curly strands falling on either side of her face. The dark purple dress she wore hugged her midsection tight, then fanned out at the waist and fell to the floor. Each time she moved, the skirt swayed, revealing a hint of silver at each toe.
Heart spazzing like a jackhammer gone rogue, I crossed the floor and made my way to her, one step at a time. A part of my brain was getting a kick out of this. I was in a dream. Someone else’s dream. And here I was getting ready to piss myself over talking to some girl.
Dez would be laughing her ass off if she could see this.
“Hey,” I said, stopping in front of her. Awesome. Now my palms were sweating. Did dream sweat stink?
God, I hoped not.
She turned, startled as if seeing me for the first time, and her face fell. Not exactly the reception I’d hoped for. For a second, I worried I’d reverted to Cain, but when I glanced down at my hand and saw familiar skin marred with long forgotten scars, relief washed over me.
“Brandt?”
“Forget me already?” I joked, and tried to take her hand, but she pulled away.
“What are you doing here? You have to leave. Now!”
“Leave? What
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