Blood of Gemini

Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Once I had absorbed the initial shock that Martin Singer was even alive, the hair on the back of my neck bristled at his brazen announcement.

“My biological father,” I clarified. If the distinction bothered him, he gave no indication. “Yes, I’ve known about our…connection for a few months now, since the death of my twin sister—your other daughter—surely you heard about her murder?”

Martin bowed his head and said nothing but kept his eyes focused on me. I had the benefit of sunglasses and utilized them to their full advantage to observe him as well. The family resemblance was uncanny, especially around the mouth and nose and the way his eyebrows rose and fell when surprised.

“You look so much like her,” he whispered. I nodded, knowing he was referencing Alison Anders, the woman who had given me life; then died a few short hours later. “I assume Ella favored her, too?”

I nodded at his reference to the name Victoria had been given at birth. “From the pictures I’ve seen of her, yes, very much so.” Martin tilted his head and squinted in confusion—another gesture we had in common. My voice came out raspy, “I never knew Victoria, Ella, when she was alive. I only became aware of her existence after she was murdered.” I blew out a breath. “I was the one who found her.” Martin’s eyes widened at the revelation and when he started to respond, I waved off his sympathy.

“Why are you here, Martin?”

The empathy surrounding him rippled and faded at the harshness of my voice and he realized now was not the time for a family reunion. Though his eyes never left mine, he was silent for so long, I was compelled to fill the uncomfortable void.

“How do you know Mort Daniels? More importantly, why did he contact you, much less know how to contact you?” Martin smiled but this time, there was no warmth behind it and something clicked. “You were Mort’s contact when he worked at the Chicago Tribune, back when he was doing research on Alcore and GenTech. You were his inside track.” His expression revealed nothing but the shift in the energy surrounding us suggested I had nicked something. “Has he known you were alive this whole time? I personally would like to know how that transpired, by the way, in addition to finding out where you’ve been the past twenty-odd years? Winslow Clark said his dad pushed you off the Skyway Bridge in an attempt to make it look like suicide. And yet, decades later…here you are. Why? Why now?” As the questions poured out, my skin grew hot as my heartbeat doubled. I attempted another barrage but Martin put his hands up in surrender and chuckled in amusement.

“So much like Alison—so inquisitive, so darned smart…” his voice trailed off as he appeared to revel in some long lost memory. Finally, he shook his head, as though pushing away cobwebs. “But no, I wasn’t Daniels’ ‘inside track’ nor am I aware who that person is, or was.” I wasn’t buying his answer but waved my hand, urging him to continue. “Daniels made contact through a mutual acquaintance. I was notified once the urgency of your phone call had been assessed. He doesn’t know I’m alive or that I was the person sent to meet you. He only knew you would be meeting with a resource that could assist you with your current…situation.”

I thought about my conversation with Mort—how uncommonly abrupt he’d been—and wondered why he’d felt obligated to set me up for this meeting with an unknown and possibly dangerous stranger.

As though he’d been reading my mind, Martin nodded. “Our acquaintance is very well connected. I assure you, we mean you no harm. My deepest apologies for causing you distress but Mort had sworn to not reveal his source and was also assured your safety would be our primary concern.” His explanation seemed dubious but I let it slide. “As for Winslow Clark, the story he told you was true. His father, Theodore Winslow, plotted my demise and lured me to the bridge but his execution—no pun intended—was severely lacking. He didn’t stick around to verify the results. Thankfully, he was as sloppy with attempted murder as he was in his work, otherwise I wouldn’t be standing here today. But that, my dear Arianna, is a story for another day. Today…today we must focus on the matter at hand: Winslow Clark. That answers the ‘why’ portion of your query. As for the ‘why now’? Because it’s time to destroy the monster I’ve created. Permanently.”

I clucked my tongue at his confidence.

“I know you have many questions, Arianna. I have many of my own. Too many,” his voice wavered and l caught a hint of moisture glistening in his eyes. Fortunately my emotions were masked behind sunglasses. “I do hope someday soon you will oblige me but today we do not have the benefit of time on our side. Winslow Clark is here, preparing to strike. For the time being, he must be the primary focus of our attentions. Having said that, I have a favor to ask.” I nodded for him to proceed. “The only way I can ensure your safety and the safety of the ones you love is if you agree to leave town.”

Oh, heck no. I told Martin as much and after unleashing the sailor on him, I wouldn’t have been the least bit surprised if he’d whipped a bar of soap from his pocket. Instead, he offered a bemused expression. Exasperated, I released another round of expletives before slamming my fists onto my hips while tapping my foot.

This time, my efforts were rewarded with a small chuckle. “Forgive me, the similarities to your mother—to Alison—continue to amaze me.”

“If I’m half as stubborn as you say she was, then you should know I have no intention of leaving town—leaving my loved ones behind—while I’m off taking a vaca, waiting for the freak show of a monsoon known as El Clark to pass through town. My town. Ain’t gonna happen, Pops.”

This time, Martin winced and I immediately felt a flush of regret for my callousness before remembering the man had conveniently elected to go missing for the majority of my life. When he said nothing, I added, “Besides, that would kind of defeat the purpose. I mean, Clark came to Phoenix to eliminate me. What purpose would leaving serve anyone?” I shrugged and waved my hands to emphasize the point. Apparently Martin was not one for dramatic flourishes and looked bored, if not a bit impatient. “He’d come looking for me, regardless of where I went, so there’s no sense having him tear up the whole country in the process. Let’s face it, he’s not going to back down or crawl back into whatever hole he clawed his miserable way out of—not empty-handed, anyway.”

“He will if he’s offered something better.”

I had to refrain from bursting out in laughter. “Something better? Like what? A front row seat on the maiden voyage of Richard Branson’s Virgin Galactic spacecraft?” This time I laughed but there was no humor in it and given the look on Martin’s face, he clearly didn’t appreciate my brand of sarcasm. “I seriously doubt Clark’s willing to hang out with the gila monsters and javelinas here in the desert for that long.”

Martin shook his head, still not amused. I wondered if Alison had bristled his fur to such an extent. Given the way I was feeling about the man at the present, I hoped her talents in that arena superseded mine. He squinted, regarding me and when he finally spoke, his expression was flat.

“He won’t have to wait. He’ll have me.”

Score one for Martin—that certainly earned my attention.

“You? No offense, Martin but how do you interpret that as ‘something better’? To my knowledge, Clark doesn’t even know you’re alive, much less would believe you were who you claim to be.”

Though neither of us was feeling jovial, Martin offered a cryptic smile. “Oh, I believe I can make a pretty convincing argument.”

Knowing Clark as I did, I snorted at Martin’s bravado. “Okay...say he’s got his DNA decoder ring handy and it confirms you’re...you...why would he be satisfied with that exchange? And what’s to say he won’t take us both out anyway?”

“Because I have something he wants, Arianna. And when I present it to him, in all its glory, he’ll want it so badly he’ll do anything to finally have it in his possession.”

“Err...not sure if you’re familiar with Clark but unless you’ve got an in with Versace and Ferrari...with maybe a little Charlie Manson thrown in, I doubt he’ll bite.”

“Oh, I suspect he’ll do a lot more than bite when he learns what I have to offer,” Martin gave me a knowing look, “especially since it involves Gemini.”

Martin could only be referring to one thing: the formulas to the human cloning project both Clark and his father had not only coveted, but killed for. Putting those babies in either of their hands, along with the scientist who’d created them was a dangerous, if not monstrous business.

Though strained, my voice found its way past my urge to vomit. “I’ll admit, I don’t know you very well, Martin, but you certainly don’t strike me as crazy.” Absently, I rechecked my math—perhaps my initial calculations were off? Was he crazy? There was only one way to find out. “Why would you suggest such a thing knowing what happened...the consequences...last time?”

“I promise you, it won’t come to that.”

“How can you make a promise like that?”

“Because I’m going to destroy them before it gets that far.”