The Alpha - Joel Abernathy Page 0,40
the death certificate.”
Colt wasn’t even sure he wanted to know exactly what that meant, given what he knew of Stan’s current operations. “And my brother?”
“We found a place for Melanie to stay where she could raise both of you in peace. I visited as much as I could,” Susan said, her voice strained with guilt.
“And you were fine with her raising a changeling, knowing what they’re capable of?” Colt asked, looking at them both. On the one hand, it was no surprise their habit of rescuing strays went so far back, but knowing what he now did of changelings, even their compassion wasn’t enough to explain it.
Stan’s face was unreadable, but the tears streaming down Susan’s cheeks seemed genuine enough. “You were her children. There is nothing a mother wouldn’t do to protect her child, no matter what he’s capable of. I might not have understood that back then, but I understood loyalty. Family. Melanie had always been that to me, and so when she said it would be different--that you were both special--I believed her.”
Her gaze softened as she studied Colt with that melancholic smile that made it hard to be as furious with her as he wanted to be. Maybe it was the fact that it was the same smile his mother had seen on so many occasions that made him feel connected to Susan somehow. Bound. “She was certainly right about you.”
“But not him,” Colt said firmly. “Not the thing that’s killed God only knows how many innocent children.”
Knowing it was his brother changed nothing. If anything, he had so hardened himself to the prospect that he might have any family out there that all he could feel was even greater disgust. He shared the changeling’s DNA. They were twins. Cut from the same cloth.
If the changeling was capable of all that, then what was he capable of?
“It wasn’t supposed to be this way,” Susan said, her voice cracking. “You had each other, and everything would have been fine if it hadn’t happened.”
“If what hadn’t happened?”
“I don’t know,” Susan choked. “Melanie just called me up in the middle of the night a couple of years later, and all she would tell me was that ‘he’ knew. ‘He’ knew, and she had to run with you both. She wouldn’t tell me who ‘he’ was, or where she was going, just that she wouldn’t ever be coming back. She called to say goodbye, and when they found her necklace in the forest, I knew it was the Plague Doctor. I never imagined either of you could have survived.”
Colt’s throat grew tighter as she spoke, his head spinning like the earth had shifted off its axis and he was somehow the only one affected. “How did she die?” he finally gritted out.
Susan brought a hand to cover her mouth, barely muffling a strangled sob.
Stan put a hand on her shoulder, rubbing gently. He looked up at Colt and answered on her behalf. “Plague Doctors are a unique type of variant. They’re capable of using psychic pulses to transmute organic life into particulate matter.”
“In English,” Colt muttered. None of this felt real. The scientific jargon wasn’t helping.
“They turn their victims to dust,” Stan answered. “They’ve existed for as long as anyone can remember, but they were named during the Black Plague, when their abilities proved useful for disposing of large quantities of tainted bodies with little contamination risk.”
“Of course. Can’t have the food supply contaminated,” Colt said bitterly. “If these things are really that deadly, how are they not considered as dangerous as changelings?”
“Changelings are a random act of nature,” said Stan. “Unlike most ghouls, who don’t innately hunger for human flesh until they reach maturity, their bloodlust is insatiable from birth. They never physically mature, so with all the boundless rage and irrationality of a small child and the destructive capabilities of a psychic variant… Plague Doctors, on the other hand, are chosen, not born.”
Colt frowned. “What are you talking about? You said they’re a variant.”
“They are. A variant like no other,” Stan answered. “Their extraordinary power is matched by an extraordinary route of transmission. Unlike the other variants, one Plague Doctor can only be born from the death of another.”
“So what, the power passes on like the fucking Highlander?” Colt asked in disbelief.
The corner of Stan’s lips quirked slightly. “Something like that. No one really knows how it began, but those are the rules, and the Council is remarkably selective about who they choose for the task. Only the