Tremble (Denazen #3)(9)
“I didn’t need anyone looking out for me. I needed my best friend.”
Brandt shook his head. “I’m sorry. Nothing I say is going to seem like a good enough reason.”
“Try me.”
“I did visit your dreams, Dez. I visited, and I got so freaked by what I saw that I made myself stay away.”
Not what I’d expected.
He pulled the wheel from his pocket and rolled it between his hands. The Brandt equivalent of a nervous twitch. “You were hurt and terrified. The way it manifested in your dreams really hit me. I—I was afraid if I kept seeing stuff like that, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from running home—and I couldn’t do that. Not when there’s so much else at stake.”
I understood—sort of—but it didn’t make me feel any better. Brandt had been my rock. Not having him there, with everything that had happened, was hard. I’d missed him. “So that’s it? You’re here now?”
He nodded and we started walking again.
It took exactly six steps for it to hit me.
“No—”
“Dez, don’t.”
I froze, heart nearly seizing. “Ten—you said—you and me…” Forming a coherent sentence was nearly impossible. “You jumped into the body of a Supremacy victim?”
4
Brandt sighed, stuffing the wheel back into his pocket. “I didn’t plan it, Dez. It just happened.”
“I don’t understand,” I said. Deep breaths. In through the nose. Out through the mouth. Nice and easy. “What happened to the Sheltie suit?”
“It’s a long story.” He glanced down the hall, like he was checking to make sure we were alone, then leaned closer. “Cross and Kiernan were wrong. A few months ago they told you they’d found a cure—but they hadn’t.”
He was wrong. Had to be. “Kiernan is over eighteen. I know that for a fact.”
“They gave her something they thought was the cure, and it did work—for a while. After a few months, though, it started breaking down. She began showing signs of decline.”
She’d seemed perfectly fine at the party. “But you’re saying she’s okay now?”
“Ginger will fill you in on the bulk of it, but the short version is yes.” He gestured to himself. “But that’s where my new body comes in. To make the cure work, they needed something from someone. A man named Wentz. Ginger sent me in to get to him first, but I failed. I died trying to stop them.”
“And you ended up in the same boat as me,” I said, the knot in my chest getting bigger. “So now not only am I on death row, you’re there with me. Your strategy leaves a lot to be desired.”
He took my hand and squeezed. “We are not on death row.”
I pulled away and opened my mouth to argue with him.
He cut me off. “Dez. Look who you’re talking to. Soul Jumper, remember? Other than dealing with the current effects, I’m not in any real danger.” He thumped me lightly on the shoulder. “Come on, you know that.”
Wow. Duh. He had a point. Why hadn’t I seen that for myself? Because my own brain was starting to scramble, that’s why. Easily distracted and unfocused, I found my mind wandering lately. The Supremacy drug—it had to be. But that didn’t matter. Not now. For the first time in months, things were starting to look up. Time to suck it up and take back my life. “But what about the cure? If you failed, how—”
“Ginger will kick my ass if she knows I’m telling you about all this. Let her fill in the rest of the blanks.” He swayed a little, and I felt bad for badgering, but there was one more thing I had to ask.
“What about Kale? Do you know what they did to him? He—he’s so different.”
The sympathy in Brandt’s eyes bugged me for some reason. Maybe because, for the past few months, I’d seen it in everyone’s eyes. Annoying compassion for the poor, lost girl. “The new Supremacy drug would account for the change in Kale’s ability, but I’ve never heard of it messing with someone’s memories. I guess it could have been the thing that scrambled his eggs, but I doubt it. They’ve given it to twenty people. Nine or ten survived, and as far as I know, their heads are still in working order. If I had to place bets on the cause, I’d go with a Resident.”
Residents were Sixes who willingly lived and worked alongside Denazen. Their own personal superpowered butt monkeys. “Any ideas which one?”
He shrugged. “Wish I knew.”
We came to a stop in front of room 512—six doors down from mine. He looked a little pale, and every once in a while I swore I saw him tremble. “I have to ask—and I expect the truth. The headache—is that body declining?”
He brushed the lightest of kisses across my forehead. “Lemme crash for an hour or so. Then we’ll plot world domination, ’kay?”
Not the answer I’d hoped for. Hell, not even an answer at all. But for now it would have to do. I had a boyfriend to rescue and ten science project offspring to hunt down before they popped their lids—or Denazen did it for them.
Oh. And a cure to find so Brandt’s current body and I didn’t die a horrible, insanity-laced death.
Easy. Reeeal easy.