A/N: This is the rewrite of Blood Lies (sequel to Blood Thoughts revision). I'll be rewriting all the books so that I can finish the series. So far I'm up to rewriting chapter 8 of this story. Trying to go as fast as I can, and keep my other stories updated. Enjoy!

"It's because you were adopted, Chase."

To say that I was shocked would be to say the least. I felt my insides twist, my breath stopped right in my chest, and I was met with a wave of nausea. I didn't realize I was leaning until my back met the counter, startling me, it was the only thing that kept my on my feet. My hand came to my chest, feeling my heart stutter beneath.

My moms face fell. "Breathe, Chase, breathe. You're turning pale!"

"Adopted?" I stuttered, the word burned my tongue. "What?" I shook my head and struggled to straighten my body. "How? What do you mean?"

My mother was nodding, shame written across her features. "Yes, honey, but please let me explain to you-," she reached for me.

My hands went up immediately, halting her attempt to comfort me. I hadn't realized it until that moment, but I was panting now, feeling well on my way to a panic attack. I didn't understand how it was possible, there'd never been any inkling that my parents might not be my biological parents. I felt a sense of betrayal, like my whole life had been a lie.

The energy stirred within me, no doubt called upon by my abruptly frantic state, it swirled excitedly and threatened to take me over. I shut my eyes, willed my body to calm down before I did something that hurt my mother or myself. But after several deep breaths, the energy had dwindled none, in fact it felt stronger. It throbbed and pulsed with each beat of my heart.

"Ch-Chase?" My mother sputtered, her voice was laced with fear and panic.

I forced myself to open my eyes, unable to resist, worried that my reaction might send her health into distress. A shocked gasp left my lips, my eyes darting around to see that everything that was not bolted down was floating in midair. My mother stared in wide eyed awe and horror, looking between the items to me and back around again.

"Chase is this you? You're doing this?" She asked zoning in my toaster, the item floating nearest to her.

"I-I-." I couldnt find the words. But I knew it was me. What else could it be?

I unclenched my fists and everything that had been suspended dropped back down to its rightful place with various sounds of contact, making both myself and my mother jump. She looked at me then and for the first time in a long time, she looked afraid. Of me. The last time that I had seen this terrified look upon her face was when I had first told her about what I could do at the age of six. She hadn't believed me, until I took her hand and read every thought, emotion, and secret growing through her head aloud. I had felt her fear then, at the tender age of six, raw and visceral. I started wearing gloves the next day.

"All these years," I breathed unable to look at her. "You knew what I could do. You knew I had questions about myself. You knew that I thought I was some kind of freak . You could have told me. You could have told me the truth."

She shook her head, her smooth face wrinkling with desperation. "No, chase, honey, I wanted what was best for you. I wanted you to have a normal life. I didn't want you to know where you came from. I wanted you to be happy."

I felt angry suddenly. "Where I come from? It would have been better to know that I was adopted rather than grow up questioning why I wasn't like you and Dad and Isaac."

Her face contorted into mixtures of remorse, shame, and fear. "I am sorry. I never wanted you to know. You were my daughter. Our little girl and we never thought otherwise. You were ours and ours alone."

"While I appreciate that, Mom, it's not the point! You kept something vital to me knowing the truth about myself from me!" I shook my head again. "And now I feel like I don't know myself at all. Every story you told me about being pregnant with me, about my early child, it's all a lie?...you..dad…" My eyes widened as a thought hit me. "Is Isaac adopted too?"

She faltered. "No, honey, Isaac...is our biological son."

That felt like the icing on the cake. I couldn't take anymore information. I turned on my heel and walked right out of the kitchen, straight to my bedroom where the door slammed shut behind me without me touching it. The energy was still boiling inside of me, amped up by all the emotions swarming through me.

I stood in my room, hugging myself, unsure of what to think or what to do. Somewhere out there were my real parents, who knew who or what I really was, and what was happening to me.

There was a soft knock on my door. "Chase? Please, can we just sit down and talk about this?"

I ignored her. Before I had made a decision about what to do next, I was going to my closet, grabbing my duffle and beginning to pack. My mother continued knocking, I threw clothes into my bag at random. I had to leave. I needed space. I needed time to think . I needed to get out of the house before I exploded.

I finished gathering my things and looked under my bed for the stash of cash I'd been accumulating through work. I stuffed it into my pocket and zipped my duffle. Making sure to take my phone and car keys I opened my bedroom door, finding my mother on the other side. Her eyes dropped to the duffel hanging from my shoulder and then to my car keys, clutched between my fingers.

"Where are you going?"

"I need time to think." I moved past her.

She followed behind me, her steps quick and urgent. "Chase, please let's just sit down and discuss this," she said anxiously. "You are still injured and I don't think you should be driving right now, especially not when you are so emotional."

I disregarded her words, nearing the front door. It swung open before I could reach for it startling us both. I gritted my teeth, I had to get a hold on this ability before I hurt someone. I moved through the open doorway and headed for my car, hearing her footsteps behind me after she recovered. She reached me as I pulled my car door open and slid in.

"Chase, please, I am begging you," she pleaded. "Don't go."

I didn't look at her. I couldn't.

"I can't stay here," I said putting my key in the ignition.

"Where will you go?"

"I don't know."

"When will you come back?"

"I may not."

I shut the car door, narrowly missing her. I turned the key and the engine rumbled to life. I shifted to reverse and pressed the gas, backing out of the driveway and steering toward the freeway. I didn't look back.