any more than I could just stand by and watch a civilian get killed. She could still leave this life. I couldn’t.
Rory said the Brynner he knew would drive out to the Big 8, no doubt to talk my way into Grace’s room. Somewhere between Greece and New Mexico, that Brynner died. Maybe I killed him. Maybe he killed himself. But he was dead, and not even a Re-Animus could bring him back.
Fourteen
GRACE
I fumed as I drove back, asking myself how exactly Brynner could blame every co-org appearance on himself. Of course the Re-Animus showed up everywhere. It probably was everywhere, just not usually everywhere all at once. The only logical explanation was that Brynner grew up in the shadow of Heinrich Carson.
Everything I’d read about him spoke of a man who did the impossible repeatedly, a man even the monsters feared. Skin made of iron, they said, bones that couldn’t be broken. I had no idea how much of it was true, but seeing the truth about Brynner made me doubt the tales of his father.
The more I thought about it, the more wrong it felt. Heinrich Carson was dead. If his legend was the measuring stick Brynner used against himself, no wonder Brynner came up short.
He knew the Re-Animus, and it knew him. The thought of its voice simultaneously repulsed and fascinated me. Intelligent. Cunning, with a memory and working intelligence. As fast as Brynner moved, he should have carved it like a turkey, but instead it danced just out of reach, constantly one step beyond the blades.
The BSI had to know about this.
And whatever it was, it was fixated on this “heart.” What could we learn from a Re-Animus in captivity? What might the tests reveal? If that heart existed, I might—just might—know a way to get one.
I arrived at the hotel, pleased that I didn’t need the GPS even once. Salt crunched underfoot as I approached the motel door.
When I swung the door open, I looked into the gaping maw of darkness and froze. The thought of something waiting just beyond the light held me in place. I could flick my hand and hit the light. Or be caught, dragged into the darkness. How did Brynner cope with this day in, day out?
I stepped backward, keeping my eyes on the motel door, opened the car, and turned on the headlights. They streamed in through the door, lighting up the sunrise painting above the bed. Nothing. I turned on the room lights and then turned off the headlights. Just for good measure, I pulled the bedspread off so I could see under the bed and opened the closet door. As a child, I lived in a constant fear of the dark. Monsters lived under my bed. Mom would come down the hall and reassure me that there were no monsters. That the BSI kept the monsters at bay.
Except the human ones, like the one that had shared my mother’s bed.
I brushed away the past like cobwebs. Paranoia seemed completely reasonable after the evening’s events. I couldn’t relax until I had the door locked, bolted, and chained.
I dialed my home BSI office, then chose the operator. “Grace Roberts, calling for Dr. Thomas. Is he available?”
After several minutes on hold, the phone picked up, and Dr. Thomas’s frail voice answered. “Ms. Roberts. My favorite field operative. How are you enjoying your assignment?”
“I talked to a Re-Animus.”
He waited long enough that I thought I probably ought to expand on it. “It’s intelligent, exhibits memory, recognition, possibly even emotion.”
“Ms. Roberts, would you kindly stop?”
That wasn’t the response I expected. After a moment, the line clicked. This time, Dr. Thomas’s voice echoed. “Ms. Roberts, you are on broadcast to all BSI labs. Please continue. All lab partners will direct questions through me.”
And I told them. Emphasized how the voice remained constant even after the move from one body to the next. How the smoke resembled swarming insects more than clouds of evil. How it identified my sex, my occupation, and even attempted to insult me.
And the deluge of questions that followed. Did I get a sample? No, it was trying to kill me. Did I capture it? No, it was trying to kill me. Did I have video or audio records?
No. It was trying to kill me.
The fact that a Re-Animus had been strangling me made it slip my mind. I started to say so, and the words died in my throat. Hadn’t Brynner said exactly the same thing to me? I’d