Mine, page 18
Rehv spoke up. “All of the males had documented histories of violence and criminal behavior. They fucked around and found out. That’s what it is.”
Nodding in agreement, Wrath asked, “When did this happen?”
“About a week ago.” Xhex came forward, and there was a thump-and-rattle on the floor in front of Wrath. “And then a week ago. And… last night. So I’m turning this in.”
Flaring his nostrils, he noted the scent of gunpowder. “It’s not my birthday. What’s with all the weapons.”
“I’m disarming myself,” the female announced, “and whatever has to happen to make this right—I accept.”
Wrath opened his mouth to tell her to come-on-get-fucking-serious.
But then he thought of Saxton leaving. And slowly closed his piehole.
For the majority of his adult life, he had walked away from his birthright—birth demand, really. It wasn’t like he’d volunteered to be the son of his First Family parents, and after watching them get slaughtered in front of him as a young, he had bolted from his responsibilities. And that had been true both in the Old Country, and after he came over here, to Caldwell.
Meeting his Beth had changed everything, and year by year, he had pulled the species back together, revising the Old Laws, establishing order, resuming traditions.
And that meant that whereas in the not-so-distant past, Xhex offing a couple of assholes who were hurting other people wouldn’t have been an issue—now? He’d made rules about homicide. What kind of leader would he be if he bent them in favor of somebody he was close to?
A bad fucking one.
“I’m going to have to get V to look into the deaths,” he said in a low voice. “I need to follow the procedures I’ve set up.”
“I’d expect nothing less.” Xhex cleared her throat. “I imagine it’s going to take him some time, so I’m going to go away for the duration. And again, whatever you decide, I will accept.”
He believed that. He could scent her intention. But there was something else.
“What aren’t you telling me.” When there wasn’t an immediate response, he shook his head. “You’re gonna want to get it all out right now. Trust me.”
There was another long pause. And then, in a reedy voice, “I have no memory of the killings. None… I literally had to go through Basque’s security footage to find out when and where I intercepted the last one.”
There was a sharp whistle and then some soft brushing noises, and Wrath kept quiet as John Matthew communicated with his mate using ASL.
“He, ah…” Xhex murmured something—and got another whistle in response. “John wants you to know that the male… the male I killed last night drugged and raped a woman he met in the club.”
As Wrath became aware of a loosening of his own tension, he had to cop, at least to himself, that he wanted there to be a good reason for it all. The amnesia? He didn’t fucking know about that—but as long as there was a justification?
Except he couldn’t go very far down that route. In this situation, he was the King, first and foremost, and a person second. His feelings could not come into play. And if she was going off, with no memory? As some kind of vigilante?
That was going to be a big problem for everybody.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yes,” Xhex said roughly.
Well, that was a “No” if he’d ever heard one. “Can you talk to Mary? One of the other therapists at Safe Place, maybe?”
“I’ll be fine. This is the first step… I have to take.”
He wanted to tell her she should stay put in her own damn bedroom back with the rest of everyone. But if she was killing and blacking out? Fuck, what the hell was going on with her.
“We need to be able to get in touch with you,” he said.
“I’ll have my phone.”
He pictured her glancing at her mate—and remembered what the female had looked like before his eyes had failed him entirely. Xhex had always been a tough piece of work, and Rehv had used her as an enforcer and his head of security when he’d been in the club and drug racket. After he’d stepped away, she’d gone to work for Trez, who’d taken over all the businesses.
Wrath could imagine what she’d done to those males.
Frankly, he was surprised there was anything left over.
“We’re going to take off now,” she said. “You’re busy.”
“Never too busy for you. Or him.”
“Thank you,” came the choked reply.
He wasn’t surprised when the pair of them left quickly. They were clearly hanging by a thread. He also wasn’t surprised when Rehv stayed behind.
“What the fuck is going on with her,” Wrath demanded of the king of all symphaths. “And how can we help.”
* * *
As Xhex bolted out of the dining room, she was dizzy and disoriented. Neither was a surprise. Standing in front of the Great Blind King, laying out her shit, with a duffle full of deadly guns and knives—and her lys—between them, she felt like everything that had started back in the spring had come to a head.
For the hundredth time, she relived that vivid memory of Rehv in the billiards room of the Black Dagger Brotherhood mansion, telling her that her grid was collapsing, that she was in trouble, that she needed help. If she hadn’t fought him then, maybe…
It doesn’t matter now—
John stepped in front of her. As he started to sign something, she did the best she could to track the positions of his fingers and his hands, but she couldn’t follow any of it. She was still back in that elegant, if rather empty, room, staring at the last purebred vampire on the planet. Sitting on that otherwise run-of-the-mill antique armchair, Wrath had been an overwhelming presence, one that turned any piece of furniture into a throne. With his waist-length black hair falling from a widow’s peak, and his cruel, intelligent face zeroing in on her as if he could see, he was the force to be reckoned with that he always was—and she’d been tongue-tied as soon as she’d entered his audience room.
Yet she could feel the respect he had for her. Under the hard surface, there was an even harder core—but he liked her, and she had the sense that he wanted to do what he could for her.
He would bend nothing in her favor, however.
Xhex looked over her shoulder at the closed doors. Rehv was still in there, and she imagined they were talking about what the investigation was going to entail. She had some answers from her own digging, but considering everything else she didn’t know and all that she couldn’t trust in herself? Who the fuck knew what was going to come out of… anything.
She glanced at John. He’d lowered his hands and was staring at her with steady, intense eyes.
“I’m sorry about all this.”
He shook his head. Then mouthed, Nothing to be sorry for. And we stick together. I’m going to ask Tohr for some time off.
God, where were they going to go? she thought. They couldn’t crash in some Residence Inn—vampires, hello. Pulling drapes wasn’t safe enough during daylight hours. And she was not staying in the mansion. She didn’t want to even go back for her clothes.
She couldn’t trust herself around those people—and their young. Especially the young.
Hell, she wasn’t sure she wanted John Matthew to stick with her. The only thing that reassured her on that front was that he could overpower her—but it wasn’t like she had a choice. He wasn’t giving her any input into his decision. When she’d suggested that, for safety, he stay at the mansion while she went off?
She hadn’t gotten even half the sentence out before a rock-solid fuck-no had come back at her. And when she’d tried to press it? He’d just asked her what she would do in his position.
So that had settled it—
As muffled voices registered, she glanced to the waiting room. There was no one in it, and she found herself wondering whether it was at the end of the night or not. She had no concept of time. Checking her watch, she was surprised it was just after midnight.
Early. But Rehv had cleared the place out for her.
Even the receptionist was gone.
Just as she pivoted toward the front door, Rehv came out of the audience hall, looming in his full-length mink duster. With his cropped mohawk and his black silk suit and black silk shirt, he cut a powerful figure as always.
Except those amethyst eyes were gentle as he looked at her. In response, all she could do was shake her head.
“You were right,” she said roughly. “I should have listened to you—”
Rehv closed the doors behind himself and stepped up to her. “I’m not looking to do an I-told-you-so.”
“I had no idea. About the grid—my grid.”
“I know.” Rehv’s grave purple stare went back and forth between her and John Matthew. “Listen, I have a place for you guys. My Great Camp is private, safe, and empty. While we figure out what comes next, I want you to go stay there.”
Xhex’s first impulse was to argue with the male—but come on. Look at how that had gone so far.
“Thank you,” she said in a small voice. “I just… don’t really know what to do here.”
He reached out with his free hand, the one that wasn’t locked on his silver cane. Squeezing her shoulder, he said, “That’s why you let people help.”
As her mind started to spin out with all kinds of crazy things, John Matthew tugged at her arm. When she turned toward him, he took her face in both his palms. With his blue eyes boring into her own, he didn’t mouth any words or make any with his hands, but he communicated loud and clear:
I love you. And I am not leaving you.
“What the hell did I do to deserve you,” she said.
He kissed her quick. And then it was time to go.
“Follow me,” Rehv said. “I’ll make sure you get there safely.”
Glancing over her shoulder, she got a last eyeful of those closed double doors… and wondered if she would ever see any of the males in that room again.
Or any of the people she had grown to love as her family.
Somehow, she felt like this was the end of the road for her. And she knew, if that was true, she was going to have to let John Matthew go, too.
Even though that was going to kill her.
TWENTY-THREE
BACK AT THE Phalen estate, Lydia followed Daniel to a part of the house she hadn’t been anywhere near before. And when he checked in at a camera, there was a longer than usual wait… in front of a vault door that belonged in a bank.
Why were they going into C.P.’s safe room, she wondered.
“So you did see Gus?” she said as she leaned back against the wall and covered a yawn.
Daniel nodded. “When I went down to the lab, I thought you might be there.”
“Instead, you caught me napping.”
“You make it sound like a sin.” With a gentle brush of his hand, he moved a strand of hair back from her face. “It’s midnight. Most people are sleeping now. Besides, it’s been a lot—I should have let you rest.”
“No, I’d rather be up.” She turned her face to his palm and nuzzled him. “As for Gus, he’s doing really well, don’t you think? Physically, at least.”
As Daniel lowered his hand, his face tensed up. “You really should rest now, when you can—”
“What aren’t you telling me?” Lydia cut in. Then she shrugged. “Look, keeping me in the dark is not protecting me. You’re making things more dangerous.”
He closed his eyes like he hated where they all were.
“Talk to me. I’m your partner, not another problem you have to take care of.”
After a long pause, Daniel nodded and looked at her. “Gus was abducted for a reason, and it wasn’t to kill him. If death was the object, they would have just shot him and left the body in the condo. He was tortured for information, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out it was about someone trying to get into the lab—and there was no way Gus didn’t give up what he knew. At some point, everybody breaks. Even the professionals trained to withstand that kind of thing.”
Lydia’s eyes flooded with tears. Wiping them away, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Oh… God.”
Even though she had guessed, having Daniel spell it out in such bald terms was shocking. But come on. Reality was what it was, even if the details weren’t spoken.
“I don’t think we have long,” Daniel said gruffly. “We need to get ready for an attack—it’s coming. I can feel it in my bones, and I’m never wrong about these things.”
“How much time do you think we have?” she said softly.
“It’s safest to assume it could come at any moment. And I’m not going to tell you what to do, but I really think you should go to the mountain.”
“I’m not leaving you.” She took the hand that had touched her so tenderly. “And I’m not leaving Gus or C.P.”
Daniel took a deep breath. “That’s what the guards are for.”
“Then they can guard all of us together.”
A hint of a smile teased his lips. “I had a feeling that’s what you were going to say.”
“Guess you know me well, huh?”
“Yup, and I’m not going to argue with you. In the words of Forrest Gump, ‘I’m not a smart man, but—’ ”
Abruptly, there was a metal-on-metal shifting sound, and they both turned to the vault entrance, reaching out at the same time for the latching system.
“I’ve got it,” Daniel said.
And he did. He grabbed on to the handle, and then sank into his lower body, using his weight more than strength to open what was clearly a heavy load.
On the other side was… an octagonal room paneled in what appeared to be stainless steel. A lighting system was mounted in cages in the ceiling, and the too-bright light reflected off of every angle in the space, creating a high-tech aura.
Wow. And yet could she be surprised?
Only C.P. Phalen would buy a property where the listing included, in addition to 8 BR, 9.5 baths, professional-grade kitchen, detached heated garage, and in-ground pool, a “Counterterrorism Escape and Containment Area.”
At least that was what a little plate read on the inside of the doorjamb.
And then she didn’t think anymore about labels. It was all about what was inside: On a stainless slab in the center, a human-form collection of nuts, bolts, and mechanicals was orientated as a body would be on its back. The arms were flush with its sides, its legs out from the sockets, the feet splayed wide at the ankles. There were no clothes on the unit, and patches of its skin-like covering were intact in some places.
“Holy… crap,” she breathed.
The face had been dissected, the fibers that seemed like swaths of muscles pulled off the metal cheeks and put in glass dishes over on a series of shelves, the eyes already gone because Daniel had taken them to make sure the cyborg couldn’t function. Parts of the neck had likewise been examined… and the chest as well.
There was no heart at the sternum—and she shouldn’t have been surprised by that. She was, though.
It was so… human-like, and yet utterly manufactured.
A work of man, not God. A killing machine with no conscience.
“I hate this thing,” she said, as she approached it cautiously. “And I keep expecting it to come alive.”
Joining Daniel next to the table, she felt a creeping tension at the back of her neck. When Daniel had told her that he’d spoken to a friend of his, she hadn’t asked a lot of questions. But now that he’d taken her here? She wondered what kind of conversation had been had.
“Help me roll this fucking thing over?” he said. “Toward us.”
Lydia didn’t hesitate, but she hated touching the cool metal, and the feel of the flexible wires, and the sticky, corded connections between the “bones.” Gripping the rib cage, she dropped down into her legs and shifted backward. The unit was very heavy, heavier than a human of the same size. And as soon as the cyborg was balanced on its side, she started running through scenarios where it suddenly woke up on the attack.
What the hell are we doing? she thought to herself.
With a fumble in his pocket, Daniel took out a penlight and triggered the beam into the nape area. “Okay, got it. Can we roll things all the way over so it’s facedown?”
“Yup.”
Sinking down into her thighs again, she circled the torso at the ribs and shoved forward at the same time she flipped it back with a yank. The jerky maneuver worked okay—but it was like tossing a pancake that weighed as much as a sofa. That was slippery. Fortunately, Daniel caught the thing and kept it from falling off the other side onto the floor.
Then he was back at it with the penlight. “Shit.”
“What?”
“It’s been dissected. There’s nothing salvageable. Let’s put it back.”
On his cue, she muscled the unit again, and as it flopped to the faceup position, the metal clanging was a reminder—not that she needed it—that they were dealing with technology, not anything that lived and breathed.
Daniel stared down grimly. Then he put his hand on the center of the chest, where the heart would have been if it had been mortal.
“This is what’s coming for us, Lydia—I know because it’s what I would do if I had control of them. If I had a target, I’d send them instead of anything that was mortal.” He moved down the body. “These things are a design triumph. They’re perfect for fighting. No food, no sleep, no conscience or independent thought. Just a battery source and a set of orders. It’s the future of warfare.”
Lydia thought back to when she’d faced off with one of them, alongside Blade, up on the mountaintop.
“Let’s all leave,” she murmured. “Let’s just pack up… and go.”
After a moment, Daniel shook his head. “I think they’re going to find us wherever we are.”
* * *
Standing over the mechanical soldier, Daniel reflected on how helpful Rubik had been—after the guy had lost his shit for a while about the mole in his program. With the flip-out in the rear view, Daniel had gotten along with the deeper reason for the call. The favor had been granted—to an extent.
