jewelry. “And all of that contains the mysterious Atlantium?”
“No.”
“What do you mean no?” she snapped. “Ciaran, you’re really starting to tick me off! You just said
...”
“I said that I found the gene in a sample,” Ciaran interrupted. “I didn’t say that I found it in every sample.”
Saoirse scrutinized her brother to see if he was testing her. She would never become a scientist, but even she knew his statement sounded wrong. “Doesn’t that like defy the laws of nature?”
“Completely,” Ciaran said, a bit surprised that Saoirse had gotten it so quickly. “It makes absolutely no sense at all. It goes against the human physical composition,” he said, unable to control his enthusiasm. “Every sample of a person’s blood should be the same; it should all carry the same DNA and genetic breakdown.” He pushed the box closer to Saoirse and waved his hand over it like he was conducting a magic act. “Yours doesn’t.”
Ciaran might be smiling, but how could this possibly be good news? Yes, Saoirse had always known she was different, a freak, but all the people around her—the vampires, water vamps, efemeras—they were all a little freaky too, so what did it matter? In the grand scheme of things she was a lot more normal than they were, and she had always found comfort in knowing that she was human. Now her brother had uncovered confirmation, proof, that she might not be that human after all. She wasn’t just an honorary member of an inhuman race; she might very well be their missing link. “So what does all this mean?” she asked, not certain she wanted to know the answer.
Ciaran hated being vague, but he had no other choice. “I don’t know yet.”
“You have to know!” Saoirse screamed, slamming her mug onto the table once more. “You’re a lab rat. This is what you do!”
Quickly, Ciaran closed the metal box and returned it to its storage, worried that it would be doused in Saoirse’s drink if she got any more excited. “What do you think I’ve
“And what did you find?!”
“There’s no evidence of Atlantium in my blood or even in Ronan’s, but I found traces of it in all of the samples of Michael’s blood that I’ve been able to examine. Every one of them is the same.”
“Unlike mine,” Saoirse said.
“Yes, unlike yours,” Ciaran confirmed. “But don’t you see how bloody amazing that is?!”
He just didn’t get it. “No, Ciar, I don’t,” Saoirse replied. “And amazing is not exactly the word I’d use to describe what’s going on inside of me.”
She just didn’t get it. “Saoirse, it’s like your blood, your physiological makeup, is constantly changing!” Ciaran beamed. “Almost like it’s vibrating on a level no other human being has ever reached, vibrating like I’ve heard Ronan say The Well vibrates. So I don’t care what you think, but that’s bloody amazing!”
If Saoirse had wanted to be special, if she had wanted to be some sort of abnormal legend, she would have been happy to hear what Ciaran was telling her; she would have embraced it. She would revel in the fact that she was like Phaedra and her mother and all the others and wear her badge of inhumanity with pride. But it wasn’t what she wanted. Ever since she had come to St. Anne’s and especially since she had started dating Morgandy, all she wanted to be was normal. She wanted to be average. She wanted to go to school without worrying that people were staring at her or wondering if they could turn her into their kind of vampire or use her as a living specimen to uncover the unknown.
Unfortunately, she also knew from experience that you could not escape who you are or what you were supposed to be.
“I don’t understand it in its entirety, but I believe Atlantium is what connects you and Michael to The Well,” Ciaran said, his voice positively reverential. “And somehow this gene is what links The Well to the human world.”
“ ’Scuse me, Science Boy, but that’s fanciful talk, don’t ya think?” Saoirse quipped.
“When you’re presented with facts that make no logical sense,” Ciaran replied, “the next logical step is to think illogically.”
Gulping down the rest of her hot chocolate, Saoirse hoped the warmth would make her feel better, like she had no troubles. Concentrate on the sweet mixture of cream and cocoa and let it trick her into thinking they were just chatting about the nonsensical stuff siblings are supposed to talk about and not genetic anomalies and interspecies correlations. It actually worked, until Ciaran completed his thought. “I think you and Michael are somehow destined to play important roles in the world of all water vamps,” Ciaran said, “as well as in the future of The Well itself.”
Saoirse stared at Ciaran for quite some time, and she only replied when it was clear that he was serious. “You have got to be kidding me, boyo.”
Ciaran couldn’t help but laugh at his sister’s reaction. “I know it sounds daft,” he admitted. “But I’m convinced the only way to decipher why you are what you are is to think beyond science.”
Giving her hair a good, arrogant flip, Saoirse replied, “And belly flop smack dab into the middle of science fiction.”
It was time for Ciaran to play the game by his sister’s rules, time to act bored and disinterested instead of charged up like he really was. Bit by bit he started to put away his paraphernalia, and never once did he look Saoirse in the eye. “Be cheeky and call it what you want, science fiction, fantasy, whatever,” Ciaran said. “All I know is your body negates scientific fact in a way I’ve never seen before, and it’s my expert opinion—and we all know I’m an expert in these things—that the answer lies outside of the box so to speak.” He knew by Saoirse’s silence that he was starting to make sense to her, so he wrapped up his summation as succinctly and, hopefully, as enticingly, as possible. “And right inside that little round Well of theirs.”
After a few moments of silent deliberation, Saoirse figured she had come this far, why not take it a few steps further, even if she suspected her brother was leading her by the hand directly into Barmyland. “Fine, but no more needles.”
Ciaran resisted the urge to hug Saoirse and swing her around the room and fought hard to maintain his blase composure. “I’ll only need to draw one more sample of blood.”
“One more and that’s it! I feel like I’m cutting myself all over again and not getting any of the attention!” Saoirse screamed, rubbing her hand over her forearm as if she was soothing a sudden pain.
“Since there’s no way we can get to The Well, the next test will be conducted at the pool at St.
Sebastian’s,” Ciaran explained. “It’s a long shot, but I want to test your blood to see how it reacts after your body’s been in a pool of water.”
Could this get any worse?! “Blimey, Ciar! The chlorine’ll turn my hair green!” Saoirse shouted.
Laughing at his sister’s priorities, Ciaran remembered that she might be a rare, uncommon individual, but she was still a teenage girl. And he wasn’t against using that fact in his favor.
“Morgandy is still on the swim team, remember?”
El Disgusto, Morgandy van der Liar, on the swim team? Who cared? Saoirse did. Despite everything she felt about her ex, whenever she had a daydream, she just couldn’t help herself and cast him in the leading role. It might be nice to accidentally bump into him at the pool and see him in his skimpy bathing suit, his curls plastered wet against his forehead. She wouldn’t talk to him, of course, never, not again. Why give him a chance to spew more lies? But it would be nice to look at him. And if she were standing there in her own revealing bikini, like maybe the blue-and-white-striped one that she totally rocked, she could show him what he was missing. No matter what kind of results the test produced, Saoirse thought it was what business people called a win-win situation. “Never let it be said that Saoirse Glynn-Rowley stood in the way of scientific progress.”
Taking that as a yes, Ciaran finally let his true emotions break through his deadpan veneer. “You won’t regret this, Seersh!” Hugging Saoirse tightly and swinging her in circle after circle after circle, he couldn’t believe that he was one step closer to finding out the truth about his sister. He was even closer to finding out the truth about himself.
Once Saoirse agreed to the next phase of the experimentation, Ciaran felt the strong desire, a compulsion really, to inform David that his plan was moving forward. It made no sense. He knew David was manipulating him, he knew that David wanted to use the information from his research to destroy instead of enhance, and yet all
