The other man nodded, face grim. “It’s the young ones, twenty-year-olds who think they know everything there is to know.”
“Are they with Jack?” His cousin stood on the opposite side of the fence to Dev on the most critical issue facing their people, but he’d never gone behind Dev’s back before.
Aubry shook his head. “Looks like some kind of ‘radical’ college group. Snot-nosed punks aren’t as radical as they think.”
“Give me the short version.”
“They think, and I quote, that ‘there’s no need for their families to be tied to Shine.’ According to Beck, the pretty-boy academic leading the charge, we’re an ‘anachronism’ that serves no purpose in today’s society.” A snort. “I think it’s time we showed them the fucking reality—those tortured kids last—”
“No.” Rage infused Dev’s blood at the reminder of the children Shine had lost to the Council’s coolly logical evil, children who’d been murdered simply for being who they were.
Aubry’s scowl was pure thunder. “Why the hell not?”
“I won’t use those children again.” It was a line he’d drawn in the sand. He’d had to use them once, to save the ones who were still alive. It had scarred him. One more time and he’d be so far on the wrong side of the line there would be no redemption for him.
“Yeah, okay.” Aubry rubbed a hand over his face, having had the nightmare branded into his memories, too. “What do we do with Beck’s group, then?”
“Give them what they want. Take them off the Shine register, let them know we no longer expect them to come to our assistance if called.” Those with money contributed to the coffers, but the basic requirement was for service.
“Dev.” Aubry looked troubled. “They’re just stupid kids—they don’t know how much we do, how badly they might need us in the future. What about their own children? Some of the recessive genes can express out of nowhere.”
“I know. But we can’t afford to baby them.” It was a ruthless decision, but he had to focus on the ones he could help, could save. “They’re old enough—if they want out, give them out.”
Aubry met his eyes. “Tough love?”
“You don’t agree?”
“As a matter of fact, in this case, I do.” A sharp grin. “Let’s see how long they hold out without the Shine information line.”
“Yeah, yeah, crow all about it.” Aubry was the one who’d come up with the idea of setting up an information line manned by older members of the Forgotten, people who—between them, and with recourse to Dev and the board—could answer pretty much any question the descendants might have.
“I will, thanks.” Aubry’s eyes gleamed. “I did a shift on the phones the other night and had this anonymous kid call in. He wanted to know if it was normal to be seeing everything in triplicate.”
“What’d you tell him?”
“To get his eyes checked and call me back.”
Dev laughed, but it was a hollow sound. Nothing could ease the vise around his heart—because no matter how hard he tried to keep Katya at a distance, the metal still melted for her, still burned for her . . . for the one woman he could never have. “Anything else I need to know about?”
“Jack’s quiet—don’t know if that’ll last.”
That vise twisted, powered by another layer of emotion. “I understand what drives him,” Dev said, staring out at the snow-covered landscape that spread beyond the windows. “Makes it a hell of a lot tougher to play hardball.”
“The fact that he’s your cousin doesn’t help.”
“No.” Dev thrust a hand through his hair. “If he’s quiet, let it be for now. It’s not exactly an issue we have an answer for.”
“We’re going to have to think of something soon. Or there’s a chance the Forgotten will splinter again.”
“I know.” Leaning back in his chair, he caught a glint of pale gold on his desk . . . a strand of Katya’s hair. It could’ve been transferred to the study on his body, but there was a chance she’d been in here. She’d have gotten nothing, but Dev was well aware she shouldn’t be this free to move, to sabotage.
Looking away from the golden strand, he made himself return his attention to the matter at hand. “You okay to keep an eye on these college kids?”
“Yeah. I’ll tag them in the files—if they do decide to go lone wolf, we need to be able to step in if they have children with active Psy genes.”
“That’s what Shine’s always been about.” Protecting the children. And if that meant the death of a Psy scientist . . . Dev’s hand clenched on a paperweight hard enough to crack it.
PETROKOV FAMILY ARCHIVES
Letter dated June 7, 1972
Dearest Matthew,