“Yes, and I’ve had to take drastic measures to keep it that way.”
Fair enough. “Do you know Justin Silverstone?”
“I know of him. I also know he’s playing a very dangerous game, and I’m not sure whose side he’s on. He reports to Anima, but he also reports to Cole Holland. So he’s either betraying both parties or playing one, and it’s going to get him killed. It did his twin sister.”
“What?” Jaclyn was dead?
He flipped open one of the files. I looked at the page on top—and gagged. It was a photo of Jaclyn sprawled on a bed of grass, her body twisted at an odd angle and splattered with blood. There was a hole the size of a fist in her chest.
I’d never liked her, and she’d never liked me, but seeing her body like that... A well of sympathy bubbled up inside me. “There have been no reports of her body being found.”
“I wasn’t there. I don’t know what happened. But I discovered the pictures and can only suppose someone carted her away and destroyed her. If I know Anima—and I do—there will never be a report about her.”
Poor Jaclyn. Poor Justin. I had witnessed the deaths of my family, and it had been tragic and terrible, but at least I knew what had happened. “Does Justin have any idea?”
“I’m not sure. The powers that be could have shown him the photos and threatened him with the same fate, hoping to get him to do something they wanted. Or they could have shown him the photos and blamed your group, thinking he’d seek revenge. Or they could be pretending ignorance. They are very good at all three.”
I believed him. Justin could be the spy, out to avenge his sister and the part he thought Cole had played in her death.
“I see the wheels in your head spinning. However, my source is not getting his information from Justin’s reports. There is someone else spying on your group, Miss Bell, but I don’t know the male’s identity.”
Male, he’d said. Not a girl paying a boy.
Trusting myself, remember. It’s not Gavin. “What do you know about me?” I asked. “About my...condition. And how do you know? Or maybe a better question is, how does your source know?”
“At first, my source knew only that you had been bitten and begun to act strangely. I deduced the rest. Then you were seen producing a red fire rather than a white one.” His expression was sad as he flipped through another folder, showing me photo after photo of people trapped in cages. Human people, not zombies. Only the more photos he showed me, the more zombielike those people became. I was horrified.
“These people are nothing more than guinea pigs,” he said. “They were diagnosed with cancer, but without the medical insurance to pay for treatment. They were desperate enough to try anything. They’ve been experimented on—with my formula.” There at the end, shame dripped from his voice. “I first came to work for Anima with the hope of creating a medication to increase life expectancy. A fountain of youth, if you will. Then I learned I was supposed to do it through the zombies.”
“You can see them?”
He shook his head. “My staff and I weren’t able to see into that other realm like you slayers, and we can’t leave our bodies without help, so we can’t see or touch the creatures until they are ringed.”
Without help? What help? First, I concentrated on the most important thing he’d revealed. “Ringed?”
“Our version of your Blood Line.” He showed a picture of a large metal band. “It goes around their necks and sends out electrical pulses that make the creatures tangible, but the pulse does something to the zombies... Eventually works them into a frenzy, and that frenzy makes them stronger. I’ve had more coworkers have to be killed because they’d been bitten during a frenzy than for any other reason.”
“Are you planning to put me down?” I asked with a tremor.