Free The Pretender (The Soren Chase Series Book 2) by Rob Blackwell

pretender. I killed the real Soren Chase and took his place.”
    Glen nodded his head distractedly, and flashed a thumbs up.
    “I think he’s got it,” Soren said, appreciating the look of surprise on her face when he turned back. “How do you know what I am?”
    “Duh. Cause you’re not dead,” Sharon said. “I called the hospitals last night and nobody had heard of you. And here you are, totally fine. So . . . you’re not an aussenseiter .”
    “There are a lot of other creatures that could have survived falling off your car,” Soren replied.
    “Maybe, but Soren Chase has a reputation,” Sharon said. “You’re obsessed with us. Oh yeah, we’ve heard of you. We read your blog. Several wanted to kill you, but some of us argued that could make things worse. We just tried to stay away. But you’re like Ahab and the whale; you just won’t leave us alone. That book is really boring, by the way. I have a report due in two weeks on it, and I can’t even finish it. It’s all about tying sailing knots and—”
    “Stay focused,” Soren said.
    “Anyway, I realized you’re one of us. Which explains why you, like, care so much, you know?”
    Soren felt dizzy even trying to follow her train of thought.
    “How does it explain it?”
    “Because you’re splintered,” she said, sounding almost happy.
    Soren leaned forward.
    “I’m what?”
    “Splintered,” she said. “It happens from time to time, usually with strong personalities. You become somebody and forget who you really are, what you really are. It’s really annoying. Been there, done that.”
    Soren was stunned. It had never occurred to him that this had happened to other pretenders, much less that there was a word for it. Was this normal for them? Was he going to just one day wake up as Falk again?
    “Do your memories come back?” Soren asked, his voice betraying how badly he wanted to know the answer.
    “Mine did; your mileage may vary,” Sharon said. “Sometimes, it takes a while. And I totally hate to change the subject, but we’re running out of time. I came here voluntarily. And you aren’t treating me very nice.”
    “Well, you did kill Audrey Yong. And you attacked my assistant.”
    Sharon rolled her eyes again. “Trust me, that wasn’t an attack,” she said. “I just thought he didn’t know what you were. I figured we needed a little one-on-one talk. And just look at him. He’s fine. And I already told you, I didn’t kill Audrey!”
    Soren glanced at Glen, who was still on the phone. His assistant made a little face, rubbing the back of his head, but shrugged. Soren turned to the girl.
    “Come on, it can’t be a coincidence that you were impersonating her when she went nuts and killed her family.”
    Sharon shook her head and looked at Soren in exasperation.
    “I’m trying to tell you what happened,” she complained.
    Soren had dreamed of interrogating a pretender, but it wasn’t going like he planned. In those fantasies, the captured pretenders were always raging at him, spitting bile, and vowing to kill more innocent people.
    He heard Glen put the phone down.
    “She’s telling the truth,” he said. “Sharon is in class today. She’s okay.”
    Sharon shot Soren an “I told you so” look. Soren and Glen looked at each other. Soren had never heard of pretenders letting a target live. If Sharon wasn’t dead, it suggested at least some of what Soren thought he knew about pretenders was incorrect. The idea was disturbing.
    “Okay, fine,” Soren said. “First thing: Who the hell are you? What’s your real name?”
    She smiled sweetly.
    “You can call me Friday,” she said. “We change our names a lot, but I like that one best.”
    Soren nodded.
    “Okay, Friday,” he said. “If you didn’t kill Audrey Yong, who did?”
    “So, like, I need to back up, okay?” Friday said. “I was contacted for a very simple auftrag .”
    “A what?” Soren asked.
    Friday sighed dramatically again.
    “Can I just tell my