Daughter of Zeus ✔

19.2

Shylar was also a different person from when she first met him at the motel. Initially, he'd been annoying, insecure, and creepy. 

The new Shylar was anything but insecure. How had she, Ada, been changed? As she watched Shylar and thought of his changes, she suspected Kressick had changed her in some ways, too. It couldn't have been for the worse, because she still felt the same. She smiled.

Phennell narrowed his eyes. "Damn you. You killed my grandfather and did something to my father."

His verbal attack didn't phase Ada. She stood calmly as he pushed himself into her personal space. Shylar looked as though he might step in, but she held up a hand and both men backed off.

"Kressick was dead when we got to his place. I dunno how it happened." She came to Atlanta wanting to end a life. Now someone really was dead, and she couldn't feel worse. "I did nothing."

Her accuser wasn't backing down. "You changed him. I know what you are, what Grandpa is." His words held a speck of hysteria. "What he was. Fucking Specials." He spat out the last word.

Eyes brimming with contempt, he again pushed his face near hers threateningly.

"Enough, Phennell," Chancelin said. "Your father warned us something might happen before he left to get your sister. I'm sure he'll be back soon."

"Actually, ma'am, you and I both know that's not true," Shylar said.

Chancelin pretended indifference. "What do you mean?"

"You've received reports of your husband's 'extended overseas vacation'," he remarked.

She nodded slowly.

He continued, "In a few weeks, the vacation will turn into an illness, an accident, a murder—their pick. State-run news outlets will report his death, and the authorities will be able to hold him indefinitely."

After the information had been absorbed by everyone in the room, Ada noted that tears and sniffles were scarce. Moretz was not the type of man to be missed. It didn't matter that his last known actions had been self-sacrificing because everyone's memories of the Congressman were dominated by his cruelty. The impact of his personality reboot had not impacted anyone's direct feelings for him.

Still, Ada remained undecided. She had hated Moretz for most of her life, born of his ill-treatment and actions. As she aged, her hate blossomed into blame. Blame had been convenient, but it had never felt right. Recently, hate and blame were two things she experienced least, with grateful being far down on the list as well. Her emotions in regard to Moretz were gliding toward resentment, which was a vast improvement over hate and blame.

~*~

Later, Shylar and Ada sat in the living room, sharing a tight silence. Darcy had told them to wait for her while she spoke with her mother.

Shlyar looked anywhere but at Ada, seemingly interested in the art on the walls.

She realized he wished to avoid her. But she wasn't about to let him off the hook. He always knew more than anyone else. In fact, he had just cemented that fact when he'd corrected Chancelin on Moretz's status with the State. She wanted to know what he knew.

The questions came quietly at first, then Ada shot them out anxiously:

What happened the night Moretz came to the compound?

How had Shylar found her?

Why was he still around?

For each question, he offered surprisingly explicit answers. An element of his explanations led him to reveal knowledge of a tracking device Kressick had implanted inside her.

"Why the hell would he do that?" Ada asked.

"Your grandfather's primary concern was always for your safety. He never fully trusted your father or that you wouldn't fall into State hands. We had to have a way to find you." An apology colored Shylar's face a slight pink.

Arguing against the caring attitude of a dead man seemed impossible. Kressick had circumvented a few of Ada's liberties, but he had done so because it was right. All men thought that their highest calling was to protect a woman, and her grandfather, and Shylar, were no different.

She asked him where the foreign beacon had been implanted.

"I don't know."

"Never mind. I'll find it myself."

If it emitted an electronic signal, she could figure out where it was located. To aid her concentration, she closed her eyes. Shylar remained silent, and with no one else in the room, the quiet helped her find the signal. Underneath the thump of the other electronics in the room and in the building, she detected a new pulse.

"What are you doing?" Shylar asked.

"Shut up."

Though she was immensely annoyed with the overall deception, Shylar's honesty had been illuminating. Thus, she kept her tone playful.