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  That was letting him off the hook. It wasn’t that simple.

  Since that moment with the soldier in La Junta, he’d struggled with what kind of man he was. He wanted to believe that had been a moment of weakness, born of fear, but he didn’t know. And he wouldn’t let her forgive him.

  Not when he wasn’t ready to forgive himself.

  “My friends didn’t run. I went to Mexico, and I stayed with Parker and Jack. If I’d listened to my gut back then, maybe I could have done something about Parker before he started this.”

  She glared at him, stepping closer. So much ferocity in such a small package. “Or maybe you couldn’t have. You don’t know that. Could never guess that. None of this makes you a bad guy. It makes you someone who was put in a bad situation.”

  He didn’t agree, so he said nothing. How could he explain how ashamed he was that he’d run while they all stayed and stood up for themselves?

  Beth stepped forward. Unsure what she was going to do, he moved back. But she ducked her head, folding her arms around him.

  Her hug took him completely by surprise. He stiffened, but after a moment, he wrapped his arms around her, too. She felt so damn good tucked against him, and he wasn’t strong enough to resist the way she brought him peace, if only for a few moments. Closing his eyes, he dropped his face into her hair. It smelled like strawberry, and he breathed in, allowing it to sooth him.

  In her arms, he fantasized that he was the man she saw. Someone in the wrong place at the wrong time. Envisioning it, he pulled her closer.

  Nothing prepared him for how well she fit against him. Beth’s personality and intellect were so big, he’d never paused to realize how little she was.

  She gazed up at him, and her mouth dropped open the slightest bit. Her fingers dug into his arms like she would hold onto a lifeline. He wanted to be the strength that she needed.

  Except he wasn’t that guy. Stiffening, he stepped back. Pain flashed in her eyes, and she glanced away.

  Damn it. He’d been trying to find a way to work with her, to be around her. He’d had the perfect opportunity to befriend her, to connect, and he’d messed it up.

  “Excuse me.” A new voice broke in, making them jump back. The girl who’d interrupted them looked young, probably an intern. “Mr. Kincaid. Dr. Jenkins. I was coming to find you, actually.”

  Beth stepped back, composed again. “Yes?”

  “We’ve found something.”

  …

  The street outside the factory in Baltimore, Maryland, was full of cops, ambulances, and first responders. A spotlight flooded the space, illuminating the neglected road and graffiti-riddled buildings. People in uniforms and hazmat gear scurried from the propped-open door to emergency vehicles. Nick Degrassi, one of the other changed soldiers in their group, parked their unmarked car on the corner. There wasn’t much traffic thanks to the early morning hour and the location of the warehouse, tucked away in the commercial district.

  Nick killed the engine. “This looks bad.”

  Luke agreed. They’d gotten word of the APB an hour ago. At least three dead and others viciously ill. Victims were being quarantined at a local hospital. Beth made a flurry of calls in the car, compiling their diagnoses and getting initial reports.

  “The victims fit our profile. Vomiting, bleeding, increased pulse…delusions.” She filled them in from the backseat, tapping on the face of her phone. Probably letting Martins know.

  “Sounds familiar,” Luke commented, staring at the chaos on the street in front of them.

  Kitty Laughton’s eyes were closed. He’d spent enough time with her to know when she was listening to the people around her. Luckily, her flu had only been a twenty-four-hour deal, because he hated going into situations without knowing what to expect. “The responders and emergency personnel are confused. The detective in charge believes it might be a chemical attack or a virus. Poison. And the sick are hopeless.”

  “Hopeless?” Beth glanced up from her phone. “As in, a lost cause?”

  Kitty shifted, leveling her bright-blue gaze at each of them. “No. As in, they want to die.”

  Beth’s hand holding her phone dropped into her lap as she inhaled sharply. But Nick’s mouth thinned. He undoubtedly remembered that feeling all too well. They all did. “Some of them will get their wish.”

  If it was Solvimine, it was inevitable. Luke nodded. “Let’s go.”

  Kitty and Nick got out immediately, but Beth caught his arm. “What does she mean they want to die?”

  Sometimes he forgot that while Beth had studied the drug extensively, there were some things that were hard to explain.

  “It hurts, Beth. A lot.”

  That was an understatement. It was torture. Even though it had been months, he still remembered the nausea, the vomiting. The endless burning. The exhaustion and the delusions. That night was nothing he’d ever want to repeat and nothing he’d wish on anyone.

  It also wasn’t anything he talked about.

  He expected her to ask a million questions. It was Beth. Questions were Beth’s thing. But instead, she dropped her hand and got out, leaving him staring after her.

  She’d been strange since their Ping-Pong game.

  He’d never had a hard time getting along with people before Solvimine. Since the drug, since the soldier in La Junta and losing Jack and Parker… He didn’t like this new distant side of himself.

  He didn’t like a lot of the other sides of himself, either.

  He’d talk to her when they got back.

  Or maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe this was for the best.

  Who knew? He sighed, checked the pistol he carried, and slipped out of the car.

  The scene on the street was worse up close. He flashed his credentials at a police officer, who nodded, stepping aside to let him pass. If any of them thought it was strange that a bunch of early-twenty-somethings had special FBI and military documentation, they didn’t say anything. In the thick of it, people bustled around, assisting victims actively vomiting, giving oxygen to others who were unconscious.

  Beth turned from where she’d been talking to a man whose detective badge hung from a lanyard around his neck. He joined her.

  “We can go in.” She headed for the door. He and Nick fell in behind her, and Kitty brought up the rear.

  “Brace yourselves,” Kitty whispered. “It’s bad.”

  There hadn’t been time, though, to really warn Beth. Inside, she ground to a halt. He flanked her on one side, Nick taking the other. As she staggered, he caught her arm. In front of them, bodies were everywhere, at least a dozen. While some of the people here were still alive, there were more dead than the three they’d originally expected. Most of them lay on their sides or slumped over. Some were in a circle, the others were separate, alone. The smell of illness hung in the air, though the personnel in their hazmat gear probably didn’t notice.

  “Oh God,” Beth breathed. He pulled her behind him, wanting to shield her from this, knowing he couldn’t.

  “Look.” Nick pointed to one of the bodies closest to them. A young man, probably in his late teens, sprawled backward. His legs were under him, as if he’d been positioned on his knees and had fallen to his back. Sick was all over the floor around him, and Luke did his best not to gag.

  Blood tracks streaked the boy’s face. They had smeared when he fell, but the trails led to his sightless eyes.

  Behind Luke, Beth covered her mouth, her eyes full of anguish. Reaching for her, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. He would take this from her if he could.

  “These are our guys,” he said, his voice ringing in the hushed room. “Definitely.”

  Chapter Six

  “Ten. Dead.” The words dried Beth’s mouth like she’d chewed chalk.

  The image of those bodies lying on the floor in the warehouse in Baltimore haunted her. They’d been discarded like trash. If she hadn’t been traumatized by that, watching the few who weren’t dead vomit and writhe�
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  Her hands shook, and she squeezed her fingers together to stop it.

  “Ten.” Martins pushed back from his desk, removed his glasses, and rubbed his eyes. “Damn.”

  Exactly.

  She’d investigated murders. But this? In the folder in her lap, there were pictures of dead people. Not only dead, but murdered. They resembled all the pictures she’d ever seen of mass killings or genocide.

  The blood tracks on their faces…the illness… She swallowed hard, clearing her throat.

  “It was definitely Solvimine, sir.” She gripped the folder. Besides the pictures from the scene, it also held the forensic reports she’d compiled. Another copy of the same information rested on Martins’s desk. “Early autopsy reports confirm it.”

  Martins tossed his pen on his desk and leaned back in his chair. “Damn.”

  That summed it up. “Yes, sir.”

  Her shoulders slumped, as if the tension in them had snapped her like a rubber band. She hadn’t slept all night because she’d needed to finish her reports. Besides, she preferred not to face whatever was hiding behind her eyelids.

  “We found an invitation, sir, on an online forum.” Next to her, Luke leaned forward, placing a small stack of paper on the desk in front of them. “This is the cache of it. It’s since been deleted from their server. We’ve already begun the process to get the user’s information, but we assume it’s Jack and Parker.” In jeans and a dark gray T-shirt, his dark hair tousled, Luke managed to look put together on little sleep. He hadn’t shaved, but even the stubble looked like it was supposed to be there.

  By contrast, she’d thrown her ratty MIT hoodie over the jeans she’d worn yesterday. She hadn’t even washed her face. She was past her expiration date, for sure.

  They waited silently as their boss dropped his glasses onto his nose and perused the paper. Beth already knew what it said. The post had appeared on a forum frequented by gamers and comic book enthusiasts. It was a call to anyone who had ever wanted superpowers.

  As far as she could tell, the meeting had attracted at least two dozen people. Based on numerous factors—the number of chairs and their position, the amount of refreshments—it was her best guess. Hopefully they’d know more in the next few days. They’d already reached out to the forum, requesting post hits as well as user information. It might take some time to sift through all of the privacy concerns, but they would.

  “Why did they do this?” Martins asked, making eye contact with all the occupants of the room—Beth and Luke, and then Seth Campbell who stood at ease beside her. Seth, like Nick Degrassi, had been in the army, on track to be a special ops trainee before Solvimine derailed his plans. Though he’d been quietly honorably discharged and he wasn’t in uniform, he still stood like any other soldier.

  Because he still was.

  “We aren’t sure, sir,” Seth offered. “We have to assume that they took anyone who was still alive with them.” He paused. “We think they gave up on the survivors we found.”

  Gave up on them? Left them for dead, he meant.

  Beth dropped her head, her nearly empty stomach roiling. How could anyone do that? From all indications, Parker and Jack had invited twenty or more people to a meeting with the promise of superpowers. When they got there, the attendees were poisoned with Solvimine. The two men must have watched while the victims all suffered the effects, some dying in front of them. When it was over, they’d taken those who survived, now possessing new special powers, and they left the dead where they lay.

  And some who weren’t dead.

  Even twelve hours later, she couldn’t wrap her head around that kind of evil. She clenched her jaw and loosened the fists she’d made.

  “An entire room of people took the drug? At the same time?” Martins pierced them all with a glare. “The drug works fast. Within minutes the recipient starts to be sick, correct?” He looked to Beth for verification.

  She nodded. “It hits the system in less than a minute.”

  “So, they all either took it at the same time, or they took it after seeing others drop around them.”

  “Yes, sir,” she agreed. “That’s all we can assume.”

  “That seems improbable, doesn’t it?” He narrowed his gaze at her. “Beth?”

  She considered. “Yes. Improbable and unlikely, to be honest. I would expect there to be at least one person who would have paused after watching people vomit. And the likelihood that everyone would take the drug in unison… Again, it’s unlikely.” She rubbed her fingertips together, putting the crime scene together in her mind.

  “No one called or texted anyone, either, as far as we can tell. Usually there would be correspondence, evidence on social media, stuff like that,” Luke offered.

  Martins lifted his hand, stopping him and again aiming his question at Beth. “How would they convince them all to take it in unison?”

  She didn’t know. “We’re still drawing conclusions.”

  “Keep at it.” He turned to Luke. “Who found this invitation?”

  “One of the night guys got wind of the police APB. He and Kenny searched for any link. It’s unusual for a meeting or gathering of this many people to occur without some imprint on the web.”

  “And that’s when they found it?”

  “Yes.” Luke leaned back. “We’re still searching, but the post was made anonymously, on an encrypted connection. It’ll take some time.”

  The door opened, and Kitty Laughton stepped in, her crystal-blue gaze taking in the room. Martins motioned to another chair by the window. She shook her head. “That’s all right, I’ll stand. I’ve got some bad news.”

  “Wonderful. What now?”

  “One of the survivors passed away a little bit ago.” She dropped her head. “I tried to save him, but…” She shook her head.

  Next to her, Luke’s hands fisted at his sides.

  Beth inhaled a shaky breath, doing her best to contain the sudden need to cry. The remaining three survivors were in serious danger. Their blood pressures were incredibly low. Their brain activity had been consistent with patients who had suffered a stroke…or multiple gunshot wounds. She’d hoped, though…

  Kitty cleared her throat, folding her arms over her chest. “I did, however, gather some information.”

  “Yes?” In Martins’s one word, Beth could hear her own foreboding.

  “One of the other survivors recalled the events right before…the attack.” Kitty swallowed. “Parker and Jack were there, and Parker explained that those in the room were called to be part of a revolution. That the gifts they would receive are only given to a select few. That by showing up, the people in the room had taken the first step into what was possible.” She paused. “Parker said they’d been chosen.”

  The word skittered up Beth’s spine. Chosen. Parker made it sound like their presence at the meeting had been because of some divine power.

  “Chosen.” Luke snorted beside her, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. “Yeah, they chose to drive across town because of some invitation on a forum.”

  Kitty shook her head. “We can’t downplay this, Luke. Parker is framing this like he’s a god. Like he’s some sort of messiah or messenger from the heavens. The way he spoke to them…he was inspiring, like an evangelical minister.”

  “I’ve heard him talk,” Luke snapped. “I lived with him for months.”

  The other girl stiffened, and no one said anything. Beth cast a glance at him, and his face was scrunched up, as if he had eaten something sour. His jaw clenched, and he dropped his head. His fists balled and unfurled, over and over, in his lap.

  Finally, he sighed. “Sorry, Kitty.”

  Kitty patted him on the shoulder. She didn’t say anything, but the heartbreak on her face tore at Beth. Her sympathy made Beth wonder what she heard when she listened to Luke.

  She wished she could get through to him, too.

  “Which is it, then?” Martins interrupted, drawing everyone’s attention back to
the discussion and away from Luke. “Is Sinclair selling a pile of crap to win the room? Or do you think he believes his own bullshit?”

  “He believes it.” Luke didn’t hesitate, his chin hitching up. “Every word of it.” He stood, as if he couldn’t sit still any longer. Beth watched him pace, every step solidifying the ice in her stomach.

  Sinclair was a serial killer, but he was the most dangerous kind: a full-scale extremist who believed his own narrative, ridding himself of all blame. These were the sort of power-hungry madmen her father disdained, the ones he opposed his entire life. The ones her dad had fought ruled countries and directed extremist groups.

  Hers, apparently, believed he was a god.

  “This is my responsibility.” The words escaped her in a quiet whisper. She repeated them so everyone could hear, so she couldn’t hide. “This is my responsibility, and I’ll find a way to stop them.”

  Across the room, Luke stilled. She couldn’t meet his eyes.

  Martins blew out an exasperated breath. “Beth…”

  “No. I should have seen that they were going to make a play for the proprietary chemicals. Luke has been telling me for weeks that we should assume they had a plan.” Pausing, she cast a glance at him, but his expression was inscrutable. She barreled on. “The materials were in my lab, and I did not prepare for that eventuality. Now, that fanatic has Solvimine, and he believes that he’s fulfilling some divine calling.” She gripped the folder in her lap, her fingers curling around the evidence of Parker Sinclair’s twisted intentions. “I’m going to double my team. I need to understand this drug. Because a man like this”—she tapped the folder in her lap—“whatever he’s planning is huge. We need to find a way to stop him.”

  Martins had turned the research in their group over to her. An old friend of her family, he’d deployed with her father. He knew her, trusted her. He could have pulled in any scientist, or any group of scientists. But he’d brought her on, instead. He’d cited the similarities between her and her father. Her work ethic, yes, but more importantly, her need to do the right thing.