The Dysasters (The Dysasters #1)(21)

“Yes, you’re right of course, Father,” was what Eve said, but her thoughts were much darker: It also would be very bad for anyone to know that you stole your wife’s eggs, fertilized them yourself, then mutated and grew a child. But Eve couldn’t say that. Eve could never say that. Instead she smiled sadly at her father. “Would you like to walk on the beach? The ocean always makes you feel better, and it’s after sunset. No one from the mainland will see you.”

“Yes, I would, sweet Eve,” he said.

Hand in hand, Eve and the only father she’d ever known left the building that looked from the outside like any other Florida beach cottage. Eve kicked off her shoes as they reached the sand. The muggy August air was thick and hot and damp, and there was almost no breeze. Eve wished she had on a tank top, but the wish was fleeting. It was more important that her arm was covered. She wanted to keep what was hidden there to herself—if only for a day or two.

They walked along the beach, letting their feet dig into the warm sand, inhaling the breath of the ocean until the beach curved around the far side of the island that looked out onto open waters. There Stewart stopped to stare out at the star-filled sky and the fat, risen moon.

Eve concentrated on her element—earth. Finding her connection without evoking the element, she embraced the calm she had already called to her during that terrible time at the stadium when she saw her mother, crumpled and dead in the middle of that horrid, muddy field, and felt peace and protection spread from the painful spot hidden under her sleeve throughout her body—though she was careful to hold it to herself—careful not to let any energy leak from her hand joined with his. And then slowly, carefully, she began asking the questions that had begun to take over her mind.

“Father, I didn’t want to say anything in front of the boys, but I’m worried about how tired you’ve been looking lately.”

Stewart shook his head slightly, pulled his hand from hers, and waved it dismissively. “All is well, sweet Eve.”

“But Father, forgive me if I’m overstepping, but you have always told us that we have to take care of each other, and it’s not just that you’re tired.”

His gaze left the night sky and found her eyes. “What are you getting at, Eve?”

Eve clung to the earth’s calmness. “Well, you weren’t like this before.”

“Before? By before do you mean before the scientific community sneered at me and ruined me? Yes, you’re quite right. I have changed. We all must change.”

She cleared her throat and tried again. “I understand things are different, have been different since your research was shut down, and I don’t mean any disrespect, but Father, you seem completely obsessed with these teenagers.”

“Of course I am. I’ve been obsessed with them for eighteen years—waiting for all four pairs to mature. The time is now, and my plan to bring the first pair here has already failed. It seems I should have been more obsessed. Perhaps then today would have ended differently.”

“You’re brilliant. You created us. Why do you need those kids? Surely you can find a way to cure us if you just keep researching?”

“There are things you do not understand, Eve. Things I haven’t wanted to bother you or your brothers with. Just trust me.”

“I do! But can’t you trust me, too? What things do you mean?”

Eve saw anger harden her father’s expression, but it faded quickly as she smiled up at him. He touched her cheek and then made a sweeping gesture around them, taking in their private island. “My princess, how do you think I’ve kept all this going for the past two decades?”

“Your fertility clinics made a fortune and rich men paid you a lot of money for your research.”

“They did indeed. And then the scientific community shunned me for that very research. I invested wisely, but even the vast amount of money I had eventually runs out.”

Eve felt chilled. “Are we broke?”

Stewart’s smile was sly. “Not quite. And not for long.”

“What does that mean?”

“Bring me those teenagers and you will understand—you and the scientific community that scoffed at my research.”

“I wish you would trust me enough to tell me everything,” Eve said.

“Really? Do you? And yet you hide yourself from me.”

“F-Father, I don’t know what you—”

“Show me. I know it’s there. It must be. It’s why you didn’t go to the motel with the boys.” Into the companionable silence, Stewart’s words were like a physical blow.

“It’s nothing. Not important at all right now. You’re what’s important right now.”

“Show me!” His voice hardened as he turned to face her.

Resigned, Eve bowed her head and brushed the sleeve of her top up over her elbow. Smooth skin, the color of a fertile field, was marred only by a purple crystal the size of an egg that was growing, tumor-like, from the middle of her forearm. The jewel caught the light of the moon, changing silver to deep purple and shimmering from within its faceted surface.

“Never hide this from me. You know better,” Stewart said as his fingers skimmed lightly over the amethyst jewel. “This one is big. You must have been terribly upset.”

Eve forced herself not to flinch at the pain his touch caused.