Page 87 of Light

“Ah.” The new glow across Angelique’s skull relays her emphatic agreement. “Oui. That explains much.” She explains, as soon as we all pivot openly curious stares to her, “In the early days, there was little to no organization down in the hive. Most of the cells were set up with minimal security. The leaders of the project were biogenetics scientists who had been handpicked by Dr. Verriere, the mastermind behind the whole concept. They were beyond brilliant in their fields but, like many geniuses, had no idea how to cope with the rest of life. Several of them barely comprehended how to operate microwave ovens or television remotes, let alone things such as steel containment fields and neutralization cuffs.”

“What about Verriere himself?” Lydia queries.

“He was…not there.” Angie’s face clouds during her distinct pause.

“In the lab?” My prompt is cautious because I’m halfway to figuring out the gruesome answer anyway. “Or…at all?”

Her skull turns a melancholy blue. She turns, meeting my stare directly. “He was Test Subject Zero.”

’Dia gives up a heartfelt sigh. “And like most patient zeros…”

“Oui,” Angie rasps. “Dieu ait son âme.”

God rest his soul.

“So Faline got hands-on about running the show—and ran full speed with the power rush too.” Trixie’s comment, while totally true, earns her a wry grimace from my sister.

“More times than not, history is about luck more than anything,” Lydia grumbles.

“Never more true than with the Scorpios and their unwanted ‘discovery,’” I reply.

“Is that what Atticus implied?” Angie asks.

“More or less.” I stretch out my legs even more, pumping my ankles to get some much-needed stretches. Tromping back and forth between the Brocade and the Biltmore has given even my muscled stems some well-earned shin splints. “He was pretty tight-lipped about most of it, but I got the gist of it in his subtext. Long story short, while the Scorpios thought the superpowers were cool and all, nobody in their organization was interested in being the next Professor X or Tony Stark. They’re in the business of quietly making money, not commandeering a battalion of electric mutants who are ready to tear down cities.”

A hefty sniff from Angelique. “Which must have made Kane’s stunt an interesting twist.”

“Especially because it was just six weeks after Reece publicly called them out.”

“Ohhhh, shit,” Lydia follows up to my statement. “There was that…”

“After the one-two battering rams of those events, they put little Fa-Fa on their version of professional notice—and that was before they even knew I’d been transitioned.”

“Which explains why she went to ground for the months before the wedding,” Trixie puts in.

“Which apparently was fine by the Scorpios,” I explain. “Atticus told us they all hoped she’d chosen to get the hint and skulk away in peace. They had the order they wanted back at the Source, where they thought the scientists were back to work on the issues they cared about, like what the electric advances were doing for human cardiac stamina, physical agility, disease immunity, and high-stress survival.”

“Bingo.” Lydia nods like a kid pointing out that Lucky Charms turn milk the color of barf. “Super soldiers.”

“Yes,” I concede. “But that was only a small part of their bigger picture.”

Neeta jerks up a little. If there’s really such a thing as a lightbulb over someone’s head, I’m sure it’d be manifesting over her high ponytail this second. “Because the pharmaceutical applications for all of those advances is much more lucrative than any military contract.”

“Bullseye to Miss Jain.” I soothe Lydia’s tiny pout with an affectionate wink. She takes the setback with stride, even handing back my sangria as she wraps her newly free arm around one of the bed bolsters.

“So when did they find out that Fa-Fa wasn’t off working on her tan and half the hotties in Ibiza?” she poses.

I shoot her another wink. “Three guesses, and the first two don’t count.”

She’s ready with an equally sassy grin. “When the footage from your reception went viral.”

“Big gold star to the lass with the luscious rack.” After reveling in her blush and dodging her bolster toss, I go on. “Long story short, they were just as floored as everyone else at the footage—especially when they did their version of digging into the whole thing and learned very quickly about the woman’s not-so-secret plan of ‘elevating’ the human race with a worldwide army to do her bidding.”

While I’m really only restating the truth everyone already knows, they all react to it like a fresh—and staggering—revelation. If we weren’t already lazing here like lionesses on the veldt, I imagine they’d all be searching out chairs to sag into.

Neeta’s the one who relocates her voice first. “That was probably not the best news for a group controlling most of the world’s underbelly.”

“And living better than most kings because of it,” Lydia states.