The Similars (The Similars #1)(78)

“Yes. I may be wrong—although I don’t think I am. Ransom wanted the Similars, all of you, here at Darkwood to study you. To compare you to your originals. He’s taking samples or blood or plasma or something with all those tubes and needles, and he’s examining it. Madison and Tessa and Jake, they’ve been giving blood. Probably so Fleischer has a control to compare their blood to. I bet Archer was asked to give blood too. And Pru—well, I don’t know. She’d never agree to that, but maybe Ransom got her blood some other way, without her consent, before the accident.”

“I’m not as useful, then, am I?” Levi says.

“Obviously Ransom still wanted you here at Darkwood. He couldn’t invite your friends and not you…”

There’s a long moment as we both process the gravity of that.

“We have to tell someone,” I say quickly. “This isn’t right. What he’s doing to them is criminal.”

“Not if they’ve agreed to it,” Levi reminds me. “We won’t be able to ask them till tomorrow, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they’d signed away their rights.”

“Why would they do that?” It makes no sense, none at all.

“They have to play Ransom’s game if they want to stay here,” Levi says simply. “And they need to stay here to accomplish their tasks, remember?”

“Tasks that could hurt the originals’ families,” I remind him.

“That depends on how you look at it,” Levi says. “Is it wrong for my friends to want to claim their rightful places in their DNA families? Was it wrong for Maude to defy the Huxleys? Or Theodora to expose a criminal?”

I tense at her name.

“Of course you’d defend her,” I find myself saying, sounding far too antagonistic. “She’s your—whatever she is.”

“I’m not with Theodora.”

“What? Yes, you are. I saw you two…”

“You saw an illusion.”

I study him, those gray eyes. I’ve missed those eyes. First Oliver’s, then his.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I’m sure you won’t explain it, so…”

“I asked her to pretend,” Levi says. I can’t tell if there’s pain in his voice, or sadness. But I cling to his every word. “I asked her to make you think we were dating because I knew that you and I… It wasn’t good for you. Or me. To do what we did.”

“You mean our kiss?”

“I mean all of it.” Levi sighs. “Theodora and I have never been more to each other than close friends. We are like family; we are not what you think. What I made you think.”

My mind is reeling. My throat feels dry. “Then why…?”

“I wanted you to believe we meant something to each other, Thea and I, because at the time I thought it was best for everyone. Do you remember when you first saw me?” Levi asks, the urgency thick in his voice.

“The day I practically attacked you? Yes, it comes to mind.”

“That was the day I fell for you.”

I feel my breathing speed up. The day he what?

“I knew it would never work between us. You are, after all, the only living girl in the universe who will never be able to separate me from the memory of her dead best friend, who she also loved. Can you?”

“I don’t—” I sputter, not even finishing my thought before he interrupts.

“Why did you kiss me that day? Why do you watch me across the dining hall? Why do you want to learn everything there is to know about me and my friends? Is it because I am uniquely interesting to you? Or because I look like him? And if we ever were, well, an us…” There’s an intensity in his eyes that I’ve never seen before. “How could I ever be sure that you loved me for the right reasons?”

I don’t even hesitate. Answering that question is as easy as stating my own name. “Because when I look at you, I don’t see him. Not anymore. I see the person who carried Pru to get help. I see a person who is well read, and athletic, and has no idea how compelling he is. How brilliant, and captivating, and sometimes infuriating. But also kind. I don’t see Oliver. I see that. I see you.”

“Nice speech,” Levi whispers.

“It’s the truth.” I breathe out. “But…”

“What?” he asks, gently taking my hand in his.

“You still lied to me. About Theodora.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, his face dropping. “That was a regrettable mistake, and I hope you can forgive me. There’s no good explanation for it, except that I thought it would be better for me, and for you, if we stayed out of each other’s way. I honored what you asked of me the first time we met. I steered clear of you. Let you live your life.”

“But that’s not what I want anymore,” I say quietly.

“Me either.” He pulls me into his arms and presses his lips to mine. This time when we kiss, it is unbounded, turning every inch of me inside out.

When the kiss is over, I stare into his eyes. I have to say this now. If I don’t, I’ll lose my will.

“Did Maude tell you?” I blurt.

“Tell me what?”

“About Underwood. About your father.”