He entered the cabin, the serotonin in his hand.

“Angelo, I’ve got it.”

“It’s not the kid you have to worry about.”

He couldn’t hide his disappointment. The Centre has found him. He took a deep breath before rising to his feet and saying, “It’s good to see you again….Sis.”

He will never forget the look she gave him.

“How do you know I have a brother?”

He picked up the two red folders from the mantle above the fire place and showed it to her.

“You’ve got the red files too?”

“Mr Fennigor was right…about Prodigy. Our bloodlines and the lies the Centre fed us.”

“What are you saying? That you’re my…”

Jarod interrupted her. “There were eight red files.”

“Eight?”

“Each of these files represents one of the children the Centre isolated as a potential Pretender. There were seven children that your mother tried to save.” He took a step closer, taking one of the red files. “But the secret to your past is in the eight file….the eighth child.”

“You’ve got my attention.”

“NuGenesis monitored these eight children for the Centre. They screened them. You see, there’s a special anomaly in our blood. In our genetics that predisposes us with a gift.”

“What is the big secret of number eight?”

“Number eight….is you.”

He could see the disbelief in her eyes when she asked, “My blood was tested?”

“Yours and your fraternal twin brother who supposedly died at birth…instead he was whisked off to NuGenesis. I’ve narrowed the identity of your brother to these two files.”

She looked up from her own file. “One of those belong to you?”

The silence stretched until Jarod sighed and said, “No, I’m not your brother. But one of these files does belong to,” he turned and indicated Angelo, “him…”

Miss Parker’s eyebrows raised and she shook herself. “Him?”

“And the other to a boy named Bobby. But you know him better as Mr. Lyle.”

Miss Parker grinned in shock as she took a step backwards. “So you’re telling me that my brother is either a psychotic killer or mush head.”

“It’s unmistakeable.

“I need a drink…A big one.”

Two months ago, the Centre

Once again he was left with nothing but a dial tone. Frustrated, he swore briefly under his breath before turning to the director sitting in his seat behind the mahogany desk. Plastering a smile on his face, he shrugged his shoulders.

“She’s not answering. I’m sure she’s busy.”

She raised an elegant eyebrow but her face was all but bemused. He could see his demise in the depths of her eyes and he had to suppress a shudder. He had not felt this way since his first experience of Mr Lyle’s abuse. He could still hear the click of the lock as he was left alone in the shed.

He allowed nothing of his old memories to show. Now was not the time. He was walking a thin line all ready.

“The Triumvirate is not happy with the way you had handled this whole unsavoury business regarding Miss Parker and the Pretender. She is part of the Parker legacy and as such is needed at the Centre.”

The only outward appearance Lyle allowed was the slight clenching of his hand. For one brief moment he considered killing the woman and burying her body in the woods.

“It was her choice to leave. The pretender is dead. Therefore he no longer concerns the Centre.”

She leaned back in his chair and touched her fingertips together in a contemplative gesture.

“Have you seen the body?”

Lyle mentally rolled his eyes. He didn’t want to be reminded of his failure to retrieve Jarod’s body.

“I forwarded the autopsy photos to you,” he tipped his head slightly, “and Sydney saw him die. I don’t think the shrink could have faked his grief….do you?”

This time she raised both her eyebrows. “Really? Are you willing to risk your life for that statement?”

This time the thought lingered on killing her. He allowed himself this brief fantasy while he turned from her and poured himself a scotch. He took a sip and allowed the mellow flavour to settle before he swallowed.

“What is this really about?” he asked, leaning against the wall before taking another sip. She turned the seat and he watched her long legs stretch out. So much like Parker and yet…He brought he eyes up until he met hers. He allowed a small smile to settle, predatory and dangerous.

“What exactly are you planning, Madam Director, or should I speculate?”

She rose, graceful and smoothly. “Speculations can get you killed.”

Lyle’s smile widened. “With a position opening up in Africa…” He was stilled when she placed a finger against his lips, her eyes warning him. He could feel her closeness, almost taste the muskiness of the scent she used. She leaned in and he could feel her body pressing against his. Her lips were beside his ear when she said, “I want your sister back at the Centre.”

He turned his head and managed to take another sip. He could see the anger rising at his insolent behaviour but he didn’t care.

“Why?”

She moved back, glaring at him. He met her gaze and she broke it first. He allowed a small measure of victory to fill him before he stepped towards his desk and took his seat. She had followed his movement and was now standing where he had stood not so long ago. This time the silence stretched while she poured herself a glass.

“Tell me, Lyle…have you ever believed in the scrolls?”

This time it was Lyle who raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you believe in that mumbo jumbo, Madam Director?”

She seated herself across from him, watching him over the rim of her glass as she took a long sip. Lyle sighed and then said, “No, I don’t believe in the scrolls.”

“You should,” she paused, allowing her words to sink in. “It has dictated your family’s actions for a century. And Jarod is the key to it all.”

“Jarod is dead.”

“And once again, I ask you, are you willing to bet your life on that?”

Lyle grimaced. The director smiled and rose, leaving her empty glass on his table. Before she closed the doors behind her, she left one last command.

“Bring your sister back.”

Ben’s place, a Day later

They were sitting on the porch, snug under a duvet when the noticed the car turning into the driveway. She could feel John stiffen when the car stopped and the finally saw who it was behind the steering wheel.

“How did he find us?”

She frowned, watching Lyle get out of the car. “I don’t know. He’s been trying to get a hold of me now for a while.”

They both rose and John turned her so that she faced him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I thought Lyle would be smart enough to get the message. Obviously, he hasn’t.”

They both moved down the steps of the porch, intercepting the other man.

“What are you doing here?” Miss Parker snarled, moving slightly in front of John while she glared at her brother.

“I’m your brother. I wanted to make sure that you were doing all right. And from the look of things it looks like you are on the rebound.” He smirked knowingly. John’s face darkened and he stepped forward but was intercepted when Miss Parker moved past him, grabbing her brother and hustling him towards his car.

“Leave, while my gun’s still in the house.”

Lyle shifted his gaze from hers to John and then back. “He looks kinda familiar. A lot like Jarod.”

“Yeah well, keep your thoughts to yourself. He’s not Jarod. Jarod’s dead.”

Lyle lifted his eyebrows, suspicion on his face. “Why are you so defensive? If he is really so innocent, an investigation would only prove that what he had been telling you is the truth.”

She pushed him against the car, her forearm crushing his throat. Her voice was dangerously low when she growled, “I was there when he died, Lyle. You saw my report and the autopsy file. I will not have you or the Centre ruining my life again. Stay away from John and from me. You do not want me as your enemy.”

Lyle lifted his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, Parker. Have it your way.” She stepped away and he adjusted his tie. “There’s another reason why I came. I’ve been trying to get a hold of you and your phone must be faulty. You never answer.”

“I'm sorry. My fault. I forgot you were an idiot.”

She could see her remark hit home by the way Lyle tucked on his glove. “The Triumvirate wants you back at the Centre.”

“Really. Can’t imagine why?”

Lyle took a deep breath, his eyes ice cold that met hers. “Parker, you don’t want to piss them off. Just come back and listen to what they have to say. I’m sure you can come play house after they’re done with you.”

“I’m done with the Centre, Lyle. You can tell the Triumvirate that I’m busy and if they ever send another messenger boy, I’ll shoot him and then I’ll expose all their dirty little secrets to the world. Am I clear?”

Lyle narrowed his gaze and then said, “Crystal.” He wasn’t about to let this go. But his sister didn’t need to know that. He left, watching in the rear-view mirror as John put his arms protectively around his sister. His blue eyes darkening with anger, he reached for his phone.

Miss Parker nodded. “I know.”

“I’ve spoken to my dad. We can meet up with them at a safe house in Mason.”

She looked up from where she was seated on the bed. “Can we really disappear from the Centre?”

He smiled and sat down next to her. Pulling her in, he said, “Yeah. We can.” He tightened his grip, and felt a fierce protectiveness well up inside him. Without thinking, he whispered, “I promise I’ll keep us safe, Parker.”

“I promise…”