exactly what you are. I've checked every part of your DNA. I've studied the blood tests again and again. Even studied the lingering magic on the body of that gorilla. I think you're first of your kind, Cassandra Thorn. That leads me to wonder if your parents are hiding a little dark secret behind their apparent human lives."
"Dark secret," I muttered. "Do you think my parents are the Thorns? The rich human family that made themselves out of nothing."
He chuckled and moved to sit on his wheeled stool chair. Spinning around, he sighed.
"Humans don't get rich from nothing. Humans have very little to give when they're poor. However, the Thorns went from poverty to billionaires, sitting in a lovely mansion with no heir to their massive throne. It's different for supernaturals. They have to sacrifice some quality of themselves, whether that's magic, skills, or an artifact. "
His spinning stopped abruptly, his eyes narrowing on me as he fixed the spectacles sitting on the bridge of his nose.
"Why is that?"
"How am I supposed to know," I huffed.
"Think, Cassandra," he pressed. "What could they have possibly sacrificed?"
"I don't know!" I snapped. "Me?"
"Ding, ding, ding!" He mimicked a bell and clapped his hands. "We have a winner."
I stared at him in surprise as the door opened to reveal Omarion. He looked between us before shutting it, but my mind was reeling too much to wonder where he'd come from.
"They sacrificed me to be rich?" I questioned.
"Perfect if you think about it. Two humans blessed with a child that is unique to their kind. A child with supernatural genetics that hide so flawlessly, no one can pinpoint whether or not you're human. What better way to receive an abundance of money from those that see a potential threat and want it to quietly fade away than to sacrifice you."
His words sent shivers through me, and I looked to the floor, my bare feet stopping their kicking movement to dangle there.
"So...if what you're saying is true, they left me in the cold, in the hopes someone would either save or kill me. Essentially it didn't matter what happened to me, because I was a sacrifice they used to start over and reach where they are now. Are they even my parents?"
"That"—Doc leaned back, his hands holding the leather of the stool as he looked to the sky— "is the biggest question of them all."
"What do you mean?" Omarion asked.
"Well, you know me." Doc rose up and stretched. "I'm not the type to leave loose ends. So, I did a little digging, since every single detail counts if I want to fake your death, which by the way, we have about five minutes to do."
My eyes searched Omarion's, worry evident in his golden irises when we locked gazes. He actually appeared frantic about the whole situation, which did mean a lot to me when he was a double agent, but also made me worry about the future.
"Tell me the truth then," I urged.
"The Thorns aren't your biological parents." Doc dropped the bomb I'd been suspicious about deep within. I had wished in the back of my mind that they were simply didn't want a human child that would bring extra weight to their newfound journey, but for them to not be related to me at all?
I wasn't sure how to feel about it. Whether it was a blessing or a bigger problem with the coming circumstances.
"Then who are her parents?" Omarion took charge of the conversation while I quietly tried to overcome my shock.
"Well." Doc tapped his lip. "I did a search in the database and a sole individual came up."
"Who is it?!" Omarion pressed.
"I'm not sure."
"What do you mean you aren't sure? It's one person," Omarion emphasized. "This shouldn't be a problem."
"It is because a), they're in the depths of a prison like this, and b), Dubai's database is coded for anyone Level Four and below."
"Level Four and below?" Was it getting kinda hot in here? Whatever 'Level Four and below' meant left Omarion in a horrified state.
"Don't tell me it's past Level Five."
"It is." Doc grinned. "They're the only ones there, which tells me you're going to have to do your own little investigation to get into the depths of that paradise."
"Paradise?" I questioned.
"Dubai's prison is far different than this piece of shit." He put his hands up to gesture around the room. "This place would be a broom closet for them. I was far more respected over there. They have some of the