Born to Darkness (with bonus short story Shane's Last Stand) by Suzanne Brockmann

Author:Suzanne Brockmann [Brockmann, Suzanne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-345-52129-3
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2012-08-28T04:00:00+00:00

Anna followed her escort—a dark-haired teenage girl who’d quietly introduced herself as Ahlam—into a room in the R&D building that bore a sign saying “Laboratory Seven.”

It looked more like a hospital room than a lab, with a door leading to a small bathroom off to one side, and an array of equipment on the wall around a bed. Although the bed was not your standard, narrow hospital-issue, but rather a generously proportioned and comfortable-looking queen-sized, complete with a sturdy wooden frame, thick blue comforter, and big, fluffy pillows. A small sitting area nearby added to the obvious attempt to make the room more homey.

A curtain could be pulled around both the bed and the sitting area, in an attempt to cocoon it from the scanners and IV tubing and various wires.

Anna doubted that would help. Particularly since there was an obvious mirrored one-way observation window on the wall that couldn’t be blocked by the curtain.

“Please wait here, Miss Anna,” Ahlam told her, in her charming British-tinged accent. “Dr. Bach is on his way.”

The girl quietly closed the door behind her, leaving Anna alone in the room.

She wasn’t quite sure why she’d been brought here instead of over to Bach’s office, where he and his Fifties were holding that meeting. But on the walk from the barracks, Ahlam had not been forthcoming.

The comm-station in the room was locked, so Anna couldn’t resume her research while she waited—not that she’d had any luck so far. Or maybe she’d had too much luck. She’d already compiled a list of thirteen men, about the same age as the knife-wielding man she’d seen in her dream, who’d had disfiguring accidents sometime in the past thirty years—and a lack of funds to pay for corrective surgery. But she’d only just scratched the surface of Google hits. There were plenty more news articles to search.

Not to mention the fact that she’d focused on injuries received here in the Boston area. It was entirely possible that their man had received his scars in Miami. Or even Baghdad or Mumbai—a thought that led her to search for the records of former military personnel from the Boston area, who’d been injured in one of the past decades’ many wars. The current corporate government was particularly lax in providing veterans care. Plastic surgery wasn’t considered essential treatment.

Nor was mental health care—and it had seemed obvious that the scar-faced man had needed that as well.

Anna had just re-aimed her search in that direction when Ahlam had knocked on her door.

Now she sat on the edge of the bed and considered tapping on the mirrored glass and asking whoever was watching her to contact Bach and get his permission to turn on the computer.

But then she heard voices in the hall, and as she got to her feet, the door opened.

“… biggest possible problem,” the big, darkly handsome man named Stephen Diaz was saying with great intensity as he and Joseph Bach and Elliot came into the room, “is my limitation when it comes to telepathy.

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