Sighing, I eased onto a plush emerald chaise in front of the TV.
“This Atlanna,” I said, reclining. “I did a computer search on her name, and the only information I discovered was about the mythical island of Atlantis. Are you familiar with that story?”
He didn’t give me his direct attention, but offered casually, “Yes. I am.”
“Any link between the two?”
“You could probably say so, yes. Your Atlantis was a world of perfect people. They were strong, intelligent, and beautiful. Atlanna wants that, too.”
I blinked over at him. “She thinks to make babies that can conquer the world?”
“No, nothing like that. Her desires run toward creating a perfect race of children she can sell. She does not have money like I do. Perfection always gains top dollar, does it not?” With a satisfied nod, he lifted the fresh stack of paper and eased beside me on the couch. Our knees brushed, causing that ever-present hunger to renew, white-hot and intense.
His eyes lifted, beseeching mine. “Are you ready for the entire truth?”
“Of course.”
“When you learn what I know, you will be faced with a decision. A decision I am not sure you are prepared to make.”
“I’m stronger than I look,” I said. I doubted whatever it was I needed to decide would be difficult. “You know that firsthand.”
A smile played at the corner of his mouth. The very mouth that had kissed and tormented me—in reality and in my dreams.
“That I do,” he said.
“I will always fight for what is good and right.”
“Do you swear this?”
“Do not question my honor, Kyrin. I said I will and I will.”
He uttered a resolved sigh. “Very well. I only pray you recall those words,” he said, handing me a newspaper clipping.
The headline read:
LOCAL WOMAN FOUND DEAD
I read the story and frowned. A human New Britain woman had been discovered dead in an abandoned house. She’d recently had a baby, though the infant had never been found. Suspected cause of death: poison.
I glanced at the picture of her in the top right corner. A picture of how she’d looked before her death. She’d been very pretty, with short dark hair and wide brown eyes. A young woman, probably no more than twenty-five, who looked like she had many years of happiness ahead of her.
“Notice the date,” Kyrin instructed.
I did, and my lips pursed. March 17. But this was dated twenty-nine years ago.
Kyrin handed me another clipping. Same story. Different woman. Different day. Same year.
He handed me yet another.
And another.
And another.
All of the women had disappeared within the same year, all possessed dark, glossy hair and brown eyes, and all were killed by some sort of poison and found nine to thirteen months later, their bodies still distended from recent pregnancy. Not a single baby had been found.
The similarities between these cases and the current cases were staggering. Yes, my victims were men—well, other than Rianne Harte—but each male had dealt with some aspect of fertility. “Did Atlanna kill these women, too?” As the three-hundred-year-old Kyrin proved, Arcadians aged at a much slower rate than humans.
He nodded.
“We might have never learned about her activities if she’d just hidden the bodies. Instead, she places them outside like gifts.”
“I don’t know why she wanted these women to be found. I only know she used William Steele to draw A.I.R.’s attention.”
My brow crinkled, and I fought through a haze of confusion. “Why would she want our attention?”
“I’ll get to that in a moment. Rianne was helping Atlanna, giving her names of the men who fit their needs. When I realized this, I went to Rianne and paid her to stop. That’s why she was doing it, for the money, so she was more than willing to take mine instead.”
I jerked a hand through my hair. “I’m sure Atlanna could have made more money by selling Arcadian children to humans. I don’t understand why she used humans.”
He paused. “The babies were half of each race, Mia.”
I blinked, shook my head. I hadn’t expected such an answer. “It’s not possible to merge alien and human DNA. Our scientists have tried. Many times. They never succeeded.”
“It is possible,” he said darkly. “Atlanna discovered a way. For these women, though,” he said, lifting the newspaper articles, “the process was not yet perfected, and they died as a result.”
“And the babies?” I asked, my throat filling with a hard knot.
Sadness and shame flickered across his features. He turned away from me. “They died, as well. When they emerged from the birth canal, their bodies craved both Onadyn and oxygen. The two worked against each other.”
I clasped his jaw in my hands and forced him to face me completely. My hands were trembling. “Tell me how you know this.”
His shame cresting, he reached up and curled his fingers around my hands, holding me there. He tugged my wrists to his mouth, kissed the soft inner flesh, lingering over my tattoo.
“I was there,” he said, a torrent of remorse in his voice. “I helped her.”
I gave no outward reaction. A part of me had been prepared for such a response from him. I’d known he was involved somehow, that he needed to atone for something, but I hadn’t truly expected to hear he’d helped Atlanna.
“Why?” Had he said anything else, I would have told him to get over himself. To stop acting like a martyr. He’d killed. So what? “Why would you do that?”
“I thought I was doing such a wonderful thing. Something miraculous for both our worlds, something that would bring complete harmony between our people. Halflings would be accepted by earthlings. I never meant to hurt those women. Never meant for the babies to suffer. When I realized the babies couldn’t survive, I fought Atlanna every step of the way.”
“Please don’t tell me you hoped to sell the kids too.”
“No. I would die before I sold a child. Any child. What I did, I did for my people.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I have to make this right. Atlanna has to be destroyed.”
I agreed 100 percent. “The experiments failed. So why would she now abduct dark-haired, dark-eyed male humans?”
“Such coloring is the opposite of the Arcadians and revered by our kind. That is what Atlanna deems perfect. That is what Arcadians would pay the most to possess since she’s trying again to make the halflings.”