“Who alerted you?” Alex asked with every bit of control she had left.
“That’s classified,” he replied with a hint of arrogance in his voice. He always had that arrogance, she reminded herself.
“Fuck classified! Who alerted you?” she yelled and slammed her hand down on the table. The water glasses tumbled over.
“I did,” Conner announced from the end of the table. He turned his full attention to Alex. His hands, fingers entwined, were on the table in front of him. “In some circles, a man like him with huge gambling debt and an even bigger drug habit . . . it attracts attention.”
“Attention,” she repeated. “What kind of attention?”
“People, desperate people, will try to sell just about anything,” Conner answered. “The information was relatively inexpensive.”
Alex didn’t like Coop much, but it was hard to believe he could have sold them out like this. “Gambling and drugs; that’s all you had? There are worse things going on in the government these days. That barely scratches the surface for bringing charges.”
“That wasn’t all we uncovered, no,” Dr. Carlisle answered. “He was stealing classified information to cover his debts.”
“Then why even consider letting him lead the assignment? Why not just arrest him?” she asked.
“We needed to follow the money,” he answered. “And it led us to Mr. Campbell.”
“Three people are dead because you followed the money,” Alex accused.
“They knew the risks,” Dr. Carlisle hissed back. “It’s what they do, isn’t it?”
“Is that what you told her parents?” Alex snapped at her father. “‘Sorry, folks, but I allowed your daughter to take potentially dangerous drugs and she went ballistic and tried to kill her entire team,’” she exaggerated the shrug of her shoulders. “‘But she knew the risks.’”
“She was a traitor,” he sighed with a wave of his hand. “We still don’t know what damage she actually did to us. We have no idea what she passed along to Tristan at this point. Possibly information on the advancements I’ve made with my research.”
“She and Coop were working together,” Alex said. “So who did they give the intel to?”
“Mr. Campbell,” Conner said. “He was put in play to help us keep track of the money. He came highly recommended. So don’t think we just trusted him with millions sight unseen. He lies very well for a human.”
Alex, who was still fixed on her father, wondered what else he had lied about. Most certainly he’d lied about her, that was clear.
“That’s what assets do,” Alex explained. “He was playing both sides. What did you think he was going to tell you anyway?”
“What Tristan’s next step would be,” Conner hummed back. “What he took with him when he escaped Dugway.”
“He took the Seventh Grimoire,” she announced. Fallon, Sebastian, and Xavier looked confused. “It was supposed to have contained passages from a larger text that is being kept by The Vatican. That book contains some of the most powerful spells and incantations in the world. The problem is no one alive can decipher the languages. That’s why the Church wanted him so badly, isn’t it? They wanted that book.”
“Yes,” Dr. Carlisle answered. “After his capture, I copied some pages and had it sent to The Vatican, but the complete text never made it there. I have no idea how Tristan got it back.”
“What were you using Tristan for?” Alex finally asked.
Dr. Carlisle looked uncomfortable. Fallon turned toward the group again when she asked that question.
“His DNA carries a very specific marker,” the doctor replied. “I was able to isolate it.”
Fallon looked in Conner’s direction. His controlled anger punched her in the gut.
“What does it do?” Alex asked.
“Slows down the negative effects of the supplements,” Dr. Carlisle answered. “The formula that Ramos and Yun are on anyway.”
“But you can’t reverse them,” Conner added.
“No,” he sighed and shook his head as he reached for the small bottle of water in front of him. “But, I was getting close. When he escaped, so did my research—so to speak.”
Alex sat back. Fallon glanced down to see her stretch her fingers out. Dr. Carlisle pushed a box of tissue her way and she balled the clean, pale material into her fist. Then Fallon smelled a slight hint of blood.
“Why can’t you take what you have so far and duplicate what you found in his blood?” she asked. “Try to cure them and get them off those stupid drugs?”
“As you know,” Dr. Carlisle cleared his throat and took a sip of water, “vampires regenerate at an accelerated rate. Their lifespan far exceeds that of humans. But once the sample is extracted, the tissue is only good for about a day, then . . .” he blew across palm, “It disappears.”
“Disappears?”
Dr. Carlisle grinned at her. She had always hated his grin. “It disintegrates.”
Both Fallon and Alex looked at Conner. On the surface, he appeared in control and calm. But Fallon could feel his rage barrel through his two-thousand-year-old body like a battering ram. If he unleashed it, Dr. Carlisle would die and Alex would too, if she tried to save him.
Conner stood slowly and placed his hands behind his back as he paced the space behind the doctor. “How long do the young men have before they start to show the signs?”
“If they continue with the current regime, they will run out in about ninety days,” he answered as he tapped his smartphone. Then he smiled. “Losing Kai, as unfortunate as that was, does buy them another thirty days or so.”
Alex straightened her posture in the chair. Before she could open her mouth, Conner shook his head at her. The stern look in those green eyes frightened Fallon too.
“Can they skip a couple of doses? Try to extend the time,” Conner continued.
“No.”
“Do you have anything in reserve?” Alex spoke up. “You couldn’t count on us bringing Tristan back alive.”
She was agitated and she had every right to be.
Alex swallowed hard as he father mulled over her question. Somehow she knew the answer was no. He shook his head and placed the phone on the table.
“But I’m sure, under the circumstances, you want him captured as badly as I do.”
Her muscles tensed. The only thing keeping her seated was her own doubt. Could Conner catch her before she reached her father’s throat? There was really only one way to found out.
“I want him dead!”
With a blink, Conner was on her side of the table, hand placed firmly on her shoulder. She was trapped in that chair.
Anger sparked in Dr. Carlisle’s eyes. As he moved to the edge of his seat, he pushed the phone further away from him.
“You can’t kill him,” he barked. “Not yet! I told you I’m close to fixing this. If you kill him, Xavier and David will die too. Is that what you want? Just to get back at me?”
“Get back at you for what?” Conner interrupted Alex as he pressed harder on her shoulder.
Dr. Carlisle’s gaze shot up to Conner, then over to Fallon, and finally back to Alex. She pulled in a deep breath to slow her heart as it raced in her chest. A tightness squeezed her chest and her vision blurred.
“We’re done here,” Dr. Carlisle pushed out a hard breath as he stood. “I trust you will do what’s right, Mr. Gale. We have an agreement.” He let his gaze slide down to Alex again. “I never meant for this to happen, I swear. I was just trying to save this program. Tristan doesn’t know anything about magic anyway. That text is useless to him.”
“Right,” Alex sniffed. “Well, he figured out at least one of the spells. Now he has a new identity—Brice Campbell. That body is vulnerable, for now, and that will work to our advantage. I want those pages you copied translated, please. You should get started o
n finding out what that compound is and get an antidote before Tristan surfaces again.”
“When did you start giving me orders?” Dr. Carlisle frowned at her as she stood.
“When Tristan escaped on your watch,” she replied. Conner helped her with her jacket. “Don’t like it, take it up with him.” She pointed at Conner.
Dr. Carlisle stared at them for a few more seconds then left the room without another word. A guard escorted him down the hall and out of their sight.
“You gonna just let him walk out of here like that?” Alex asked Conner as she stood next to Fallon. “He thinks he still has a chance at getting Tristan back. You’re not going to hold up your end of that agreement, are you?”
He let her into his personal space for some reason. Fallon stayed close though.
“You’re right,” he answered honestly, “we’re not.” He slipped his hands into his pockets as he stared down on her. “Tristan will face the Council when he is captured.”
“Then what?” Alex sighed. He could feel all of her energy begin to drain from her body. The effort it took for her to try getting out of that chair wore her down a bit. For a minute or two, he hadn’t been sure if he could keep her still much longer though.
“A tribunal will decide his punishment,” he answered.
“Tribunal,” she snickered. “You pretend to care about the lives he took, then pass judgement? Big deal. He gets a few hundred years underground and then he’s out again.”
“We are taking this very seriously,” Conner hummed. He tried very hard not to lose his temper, but Alex’s defiant smirk tested his resolve. “His actions make us all look guilty. The terms of our agreement—”
“Agreement,” Alex interrupted him. “People are dead, Conner! People who played by the rules of that agreement and they died anyway. If he broke your rules, why keep him alive?”
“He does get to tell his side of the story,” Conner answered.
Alex stepped back and took a deep breath. After she let it out, she folded her arms over her chest and waited for Conner to continue.
“We don’t know what was done to him while under your father’s care,” he continued. “He was to be treated humanely. We didn’t agree to torture.”
Conner recognized the look of someone wanting to yell, but she stood silent for a few seconds.
“Then you should have kept a closer eye on my father. He’s a scientist. If he would experiment on his own daughter, what made you think he’d care about humane treatment?”
“Maybe you’re right,” Conner conceded, “but the fact still remains. Tristan Ambrose will get to tell his side of the story. As long as he lives, your teammates have a chance at survival. If he dies, so do they.”
Conner expected a snide remark or a thinly veiled threat to expose them. But she stared at the floor and nodded.
“He can’t be the only one,” she said when she looked up again. “The marker has to exist in another.”
Conner considered that for a few minutes. “That would make sense, but there are two questions that come to mind.”
“How do we find another vampire with the marker?” Alex verbalized before he could.
“And,” Conner jumped in, “do we have time to do the research before Xavier and David start to break down?”
They turned to the windows together. The snow fell in heavy clumps past the glass.
“Looks like you’re stuck here for the night, I’m afraid,” Conner said. “Detective Andrade will escort you to the hotel. The pilot expects the storm to clear by midafternoon. We should have you back in Texas by tomorrow night.”
“Great,” she answered. “I’m ready.”
Fallon couldn’t imagine that kind of animosity toward her own father. They had a great relationship right up to the time both her parents were killed in that accident. She had a great relationship with her mother as well. They were supportive and loving, and she missed them terribly.
No one spoke on the ride to hotel. Even with light traffic, it took a while to get there with the snow. Fallon had spent most of her assignments in warm places. She spent the longest in Texas. Texas didn’t get much snow. She didn’t like it here.
Once she checked them in, Fallon escorted them to the floor Conner had secured for them for the night. They didn’t need twenty-seven rooms, but they had them anyway. Fallon and two other vampires had the rooms next to the elevator. Alex had a suite at the end of the hall. Sebastian was on one side and Xavier the other. The rest of the floor was empty.
“If you’re hungry,” Fallon said as Alex looked around, “you can call room service or they’ve got a great bar downstairs.”
“Thanks,” she answered in a quiet voice. Fallon could see the exhaustion wrapped around her as she sat down and sighed. “I’ll see if Xavier and Sebastian are up for dinner.”
“Sebastian has a fresh supply in his mini-bar,” Fallon replied. Alex nodded again. “I’m very sorry for your loss, Ms. Stone. I’d like to offer my help, if you’ll have me.”
Alex looked up at her with a strange gleam in her tired eyes. She looked like she wanted to say something, but she didn’t. Then she nodded as she kicked off her boots and curled her toes until they popped. While she shrugged from her jacket and pulled a thin sweater over her head, Fallon stayed where she was.
“Is that what Mr. Gale wants? Does he think we can’t handle this?” she sighed.
“He thinks you need help,” Fallon replied. “Tristan won’t take any chances and neither should you.”
Her body was toned and her skin taut. After a week in the cold and sunless climate that was Romania, her skin still held a brownness that Fallon found appealed to her. Being part Brazilian, she longed for that tone to her own skin sometimes. Vampires only held color when they fed and that was only for a short time.
Alex stretched her arms over her head and Fallon thought she heard her muscles sigh. Her undershirt clung to those muscles quite well too.
“What’s good here?” Alex finally asked as she picked up the room service menu.
“Not sure,” Fallon answered. “It’s my first time in New York.”
“Well, in about an hour it will be Thanksgiving Day. Think we can see the Parade from here?” Alex nodded toward her balcony. She stood and dropped the menu on the table again. “I say we get turkey sandwiches and champagne. Do you mind?” She nodded at the phone.
Fallon smiled at her and picked up the receiver. She watched Alex walk into the bedroom and then the door closed. A few seconds later, she could hear the shower. On her way to her own room to do the same, Fallon told the guys the plan. They would meet in Alex’s room in one hour.
Chapter 33
Drew couldn’t sleep. As he tossed and turned, his brain tried to grab onto one thought that would take his mind to that something he had a sinking feeling he’d forgotten.
Finally, he gave up and jumped from the bed. It was three in the morning, and everyone else seemed to be asleep or doing whatever vampires did in the early hours of morning. He always thought that was strange. That the old myth turned out to be untrue disappointed him somehow.
Conner told him stories of when sunlight was a danger to them, but that problem had been solved ages ago. As long as they used the synthetic, sunlight didn’t hurt them. But silver, in a large enough doses, could. Now that this new mix was on the street, they were all worried.
He stopped at Michael’s door. For some reason, he was still awake. Drew heard him through the thick wooden door. He tapped twice then let himself in.
Michael sat in bed, laptop to his side and a glass of blood in his hand—working, of course. Drew took a seat in the overstuffed chair across from the bed. It had belonged to Michael’s mother, Conner had told him. He kept it here for safekeeping.
“Why are you up?” Michael hummed as he stared at the screen.
“Couldn’t
sleep,” Drew replied. “Why are you up? Surfing porn?”
Michael glanced up at him then rolled his eyes. “Working, little brother.”
“Imagine my surprise,” Drew sighed. He swung his legs over the arm of the chair and sighed again. “Whatcha working on, big brother?”
“It’s sort of complicated,” he said back to the screen. “Dr. Carlisle’s research is fascinating.”
Drew rose from the chair and crossed the room. Once he was on the bed, Michael turned the computer toward him. All he saw were jumbled sections of numbers and equations, and they gave him a headache.
“What’s he trying to do?” he asked.
“I think he’s trying to create a hybrid,” Michael hummed with a look of delight and fear in his eyes.
“A what?”
“A cross between us and them.”
Drew felt his heart rate pick up speed. Michael must have heard it too because he looked up and grinned. “Is that even possible?”
“Not that I know, but I’m not a geneticist,” he shrugged. “Looks like he’s been at it for years, though.”
Michael took a long draw from the glass then set it on the nightstand. Drew wasn’t much for the smell of fresh blood, but he was used to it. Raph said, once he was turned, it would smell like a gourmet meal. He highly doubted it.
“Maybe that’s what that Tristan guy was talking about?” Drew smiled as the thought occurred to him. “Erin Sinclair was becoming a hybrid, but she couldn’t take the transformation.”
Michael rubbed his chin as he continued to stare at the screen. He nodded absently then closed the laptop. “Maybe. Raph and Sean are working on the formulas. We may have to ask the good doctor for some help. He’s gonna be pissed we didn’t tell him this already.”
“He probably failed and just abandoned the research,” Drew added. “I mean, he knew he could enhance abilities with the pills, so why mess that up by trying to create the impossible?”
He pushed from Michael’s bed, stretched, and yawned big. Michael did the same. As he turned to leave, all the thoughts in his head shut off. It was quiet and he felt calm and suddenly very sleepy.
By Blood Sworn Page 33