Darcy protested. She said she deserved to know more about the stranger, and had a right to stay. Her father disagreed. Phennell pushed her out of the room.
"Daddy!" Her squeal echoed across the foyer hall.
"Later, honey. I'm sure Ada will stay for dinner."
Moretz glanced at her for confirmation.
Reluctantly, she nodded. The room was empty, except for Kressick. He closed the sitting room doors.
"What are you doing?" Ada asked, voice sharp.
"Staying, of course."
Quite casually, he draped himself over the nearest chair.
She planned to voice a few threats, but Moretz cut her off before she could begin.
"He stays." He stared hard at her. "We both know why."
She glared at Kressick. He shrugged.
So, Moretz knew of her homicidal plans. And he was afraid of her, that she could tell by the anxious looks he kept shooting her way. Gone was the concerned-parent schtick. At the moment, Moretz's only concern seemed to be for himself. With his father around, he acted more confidently, and of course he would be because any move she attempted would be mentally blocked or reversed. Suddenly, she wondered if she had been lured there and what for.
"Why did you bring me here?"
"No one forced you to come," Moretz said.
His anxiety increased with his answer, as evidenced by the static charge that fried the air. Ada knew she wasn't the source, and Kressick gestured, palms up---it wasn't me.
She took a breath. "I'll re-phrase—why did you lure me here?"
"I wanted to meet my daughter."
Amazingly he didn't choke on the words.
"Having my grandfather pose as my mother's boyfriend is a bit above and beyond the call of a worried parent, wouldn't ya say?"
Moretz nodded, appearing like a boy who had been caught doing something he wasn't supposed to be doing. He sat on a velvet settee and looked up at her with anguish. Fake anguish.
"I wanted to keep an eye on you. An even closer eye."
An even closer eye. The bastard meant to say— "There were others before Kressick?"
Kressick pretended interest in his interface.
"Not like Kressick. Not boyfriends or friends of your mothers, but yes, there were others," Moretz admitted.
"Why?"
"Because I had to know if you changed. For your safety, and for the safety of others around you. I had to know when you came into your abilities."
"Lot of fucking good that did," she snapped.
He continued as if she hadn't spoken. "My agents watched you from a distance. Then you turned twenty-five, and they still reported no changes."
She cracked her knuckles—going down the row of fingers one time, two times, three times. Her face projected a calmed look, but spikes of electricity crackled down her forearms.
"What's so significant about twenty-five?" Ada hid her hands behind her back.
Kressick answered, "By that age, most abilities manifest to their full potential."
There are gaps in Kressick's and Moretz's answers, too many, a voice cautioned.
"Where do these abilities come from? Why can I do this?"
She pointed a finger at the overhead light in the room and shot a blue arc of electricity at it, turning it off.