I frown. “He shouldn’t be frustrated with you—Ward is your brother. Of course you’re worried.”

“He’s not frustrated with me,” Cami says quickly. “He’s frustrated that we haven’t found Landon.” She jumps over a puddle on the ground. “I’m assuming it’s because Landon’s protective ability is keeping Smith from locking in on his location. But even knowing that, I’m not willing to give up, and I’ve been a bit … pushy.” There’s a guilty hint to her voice. “I know Smith is doing everything he can, but he’s not too happy about it. So I just keep … checking in … to make sure he’s still trying. And that seems to be, uh, annoying him a bit.”

I bite my cheek to keep from smiling, the image of him pushing his glasses up his nose crossing my mind again, along with that strange sense of déjà vu. “And let me guess, when he gets annoyed, you get annoyed?”

She huffs out a breath. “It’s not like he’s easy to deal with. You heard him—he says I’m wasting his time. And that’s not the worst thing he’s said, believe me.”

I raise my hands. “I’m not judging.” Before she can offer any other kind of defense, I ask, “Have you tried to visit anyone else at Lengard? Enzo? Crew? Sneak?”

“And say what to them?” Cami replies. “Hey, guys, bad news: Lengard isn’t affiliated with the government and you’re being experimented on by a psychopath and his lackey who makes sure you don’t remember? Yeah, I’m sure that’ll come across great.”

When I say nothing, she runs a hand through her hair and says, “Sorry. I’m not—I know none of this is your fault.”

I’m not so sure. It’s my Creator gene that Vanik wants to replicate. He may have begun experimenting long before I arrived at Lengard, but I’ve always been his endgame. The others are just … collateral damage.

My throat feels thick, keeping me from replying as we arrive outside the door to the command center. I can hear voices from within, along with a hive of activity.

Not bothering to knock, Cami reaches for the door handle. When it doesn’t turn, she gives it a firm jiggle, then blows out an annoyed breath and says, “It’s locked.”

I share a quick glance with her, leaning in to hear the muffled voices on the other side. Eavesdropping is useless; their words are indistinguishable through the thick stone. And while I could probably use my power to make them clearer, it’s late and I’m tired. I’d much rather just get in there.

“I don’t know about you,” I say slowly, “but I’m done waiting for answers.”

At Cami’s resolute nod, I concentrate on the door and command, “Open.”

Light flares as the handle turns with a click, and before Cami and I can reconsider, we step into the room.

CHAPTER THREE

My first thought upon entering the command center is that it looks exactly like it did the last time I was here, but there are more people now—close to a dozen, all of whom are so distracted by their individual tasks that they don’t notice our quiet entry.