Whisper (Whisper #1)(66)
That’s a lot of guilt for one man to hold, especially when, from my perspective, it wasn’t as if Jeremiah had experimented on the victims to the point of torture and death — that was all Vanik.
Kael slides his chair back and leaps to his feet, startling me. He begins pacing like an agitated panther.
“With half the Genesis Speakers afraid of him and the other half unsure what to believe, Jeremiah knew Lengard needed a smooth change of leadership and that the best thing for everyone was for him to leave and let Falon take over. So he readied his family, and with Falon’s help, they disappeared.”
Clenching his hands as he continues to pace, Kael says, “The idea of a sadistic Creator being loose in the world brought alarm to the Speakers, so Falon enlisted a trusted Speaker with manipulative abilities to convince everyone that Jeremiah had somehow absorbed Vanik’s insanity and he’d accidentally Spoken words that ended his own life, as well as the lives of his wife and only child.” Kael’s voice turns bitter. “They all believed the lie. What’s more, they celebrated. Lengard was safe again, with a new leader, and they were content to stay cocooned in their underground utopia.”
“I’m sensing another ‘but’ here,” I say quietly, feeling uneasy. “Can you sit down again? You’re stressing me out with all the pacing.”
Kael halts mid-step and seems surprised for some reason. Then the impossible happens, and I swear his eyes lighten just a shade and the corner of his lip twitches.
“As you wish, princess,” he mocks.
I blow out a huff of annoyance.
“You’re right about the ‘but’ — and it’s Vanik again.”
Of course it is.
“In the aftermath of the lab incident, the Speakers ended up pardoning Vanik, since their fear and ire were mistakenly directed toward Jeremiah. Amid all that, it took a while for Vanik to realize his Speaking ability was gone for good and not just a temporary lack of control. More than ever he was determined to identify the genetic Speaker anomaly — this time so he could replicate it for himself. His experiments started all over again, with him spending every spare moment in his lab.”
My body shudders as I think over all the experiments Vanik has carried out on me. But none of them were as invasive as what Kael implied. As far as I know, he hasn’t taken any … tissue samples.
As if reading my thoughts, Kael says, “He had to be careful to not let anyone know what he was doing, so there was nothing outwardly intrusive, nothing resulting in more fatalities. But over the next few years, he had Speaker friends summon specific and complex medical equipment for him, as well as anything he needed to carry out more tests. On the surface, the tests seemed reasonable enough that they became standard protocol for any new Speakers who arrived at the facility, considered as part of their initiation.” He pauses, then clarifies, “The noninvasive tests, at least.”
They call it an “initiation.” Cami’s voice travels across my mind. The potentials are tested, mentally and physically, until they break.
I swallow, thinking of my years spent in initiation, but before I can muster my next question, my attention is caught by Sneak and his haunted words.
“I was four years old.”
The young boy’s voice trembles as tears pool in his eyes. Dante moves to cover his mouth again, but Kael shakes his head, allowing Sneak to continue.
“Four,” he repeats, a whispered breath of sound. “But I remember all of it. I remember Cami running through the halls, screaming for help, more scared than anyone I’d ever seen. I didn’t know you could be that afraid.”
Sneak’s voice is barely audible when he repeats, “I was four years old.” Then he says, “Cami was eight. Landon nine. And Keeda seven.”
The look on his face hurts my heart.
“We lost our parents that day. The four of us, instant orphans.”
Understanding hits me — the tragic lab accident ten years ago that killed all their parents in one fell swoop. Now I know it was all because of Vanik — that those people were all killed by him. And it was no accident.
“We lost our parents,” Sneak says again. Then his voice hardens and his teary eyes narrow into slits aimed at Kael. “And it’s all his dad’s fault.”
I feel as if I’ve missed a step, but no one else in the room seems surprised by Sneak’s accusation.
“I thought I recognized you, kid,” Kael says to him. “You were really young back then. Sylvia and Pierre’s son, right?” At Sneak’s tight nod, Kael softly says, “I liked them. I’m sorry.”
“D-Don’t you dare!” Sneak cries.
His teary-eyed fury startles me. I can see he’s barely holding on to his emotions, so I whisper, “Sneak,” but I have no idea what else to say.
He moves his fiery gaze from Kael to me. “I was trying to tell you earlier, Jane,” Sneak says, desperate to get his words out before he’s silenced again.
But Dante makes no move to stop him this time.
“Jeremiah — as in Jeremiah Roscave — is Kael’s dad.”
I sense that this is supposed to affect me more than it does, but the reveal about Kael’s heritage isn’t all that shocking compared with everything else I’ve learned today. Next they’ll be telling me that since Jeremiah had a Creator ability, which had the potential to be passed on genetically, I’m actually his illegitimate child, and Kael is my brother. On that thought, I can’t help peering at him curiously, but I already know there is little resemblance between us. And besides, my family …