away from the other woman a second time. Amara’s body came up out of the chair as she fought to hold on.
Two large male hands gripped Amara’s wrists, breaking the connection with brute force.
Amara sat back down, hard, not even seeming to notice Alexei’s looming presence. Her eyes were obsidian and fixed on Memory. “I want to own you,” she said breathlessly, then smiled with a brilliant delight that transformed her from striking to stunningly beautiful. “This is wonderful.”
As Memory shivered, Amara turned toward her twin. Following her gaze, Memory blinked. Her mind took a second to correct the hiccup at seeing two such identical faces in one glance. Ashaya Aleine wore her hair loosely pinned up with combs, curls escaping every which way, but hairstyles aside, the two were indistinguishable.
The same remarkable eyes—shards of blue coming in through the gray to touch the jet-black pupil—the same skin, the same bone structure. Yet Memory would never, ever mistake one for the other. Ashaya Aleine was whole, didn’t have the howling nothingness at the core of her soul.
“Amara?” the lovely woman whispered now, her gaze locked on her twin.
Smile lighting up her irises, Amara took her sister’s hands in her own. “It’s extraordinary,” she murmured, her fingers curling over Ashaya’s. Both had the blunt-cut nails of scientists, but on the back of Ashaya’s left hand was what appeared to be a temporary tattoo of a caped superhero.
“I understand love now,” Amara said in a voice that was no longer flat but rich, resonant. “I understand that I love you.” She raised one hand to Ashaya’s cheek. “The world feels deeper, more intense.”
“Amara.” A single tear rolled down Ashaya’s cheek.
At the same time, Sascha looked to Memory with wide eyes. “How can you say you aren’t an empath? I felt what you did, but I don’t understand it.” Wonder in every shaken word. “Not one of us has ever been able to penetrate Amara’s emotional psyche, much less go this deep.”
Memory didn’t protest when Alexei put his hand, warm and a little rough, around her nape again. She was so cold inside. “Amara.” She waited until the other woman turned to face her. “What is the most valuable thing you’ve gained from this interaction?”
She saw cunning flash in the other woman’s eyes. Renault, too, was a terrible liar in the immediate aftermath of a transfer. As if his psychopathic brain got a little drunk and had to take a few minutes to stabilize before it could think with ruthless clarity.
“Remember,” she said, “this is an experiment. As a scientist, you agreed to give me factual and correct data.”
Sighing, Amara broke physical contact with her sister to sit back in her seat, her hands on the arms. “The scientist in me is suddenly a weakness.” Despite her complaint, when she spoke, it was the truth. “I have gained a far subtler understanding of how to manipulate others, and I also find . . . pleasure in the act.”
Amara looked at her twin again. “I do feel love for you.” Wiping away Ashaya’s tears, she shook her head. “I don’t deserve your tears, sister-mine.” The piercing intimacy of the moment hurt, and Memory had the thought that for this one instant, Amara wasn’t attempting to manipulate anyone, least of all her twin.
Then the scientist sat back in her chair, though she continued to direct her words to her sister. “I understand love,” she reiterated. “I also understand how I can use that love to control others. I comprehend that I have a hold over you as your twin and that you’d have to be driven to the edge of death before you’d permit me to be executed.”
Amara took a deep breath, let it out with a shake of her head. “You feel you must watch over me because I’m damaged in a fundamental way. In a battle between the two of us, I know I’ll have the advantage because you have emotions and I do not.” A pause. “Well, I do now—but other than that, I remain who I’ve always been.”
“Do you feel the urge to kill?” Memory dug her nails into her own thigh.
Uncrossing her legs before crossing them the opposite way, Amara took time to consider that question. “No,” she said at last. “I’ve never been driven to kill for killing’s sake. It’s a waste of energy and resources. I have no problem with an experimental subject dying should it be necessary for the success of the experiment, but I am not