by Diana Seere
“Me? Yeah, right,” Molly said with a laugh. “That shifter language class I took in eighth grade is really coming back to me.”
Smiling, Jess handed the book to Lilah, who cradled it like a baby and then pulled a navy wrap dress out of the mass of clothing on the rack.
“Here,” Jess said, shoving it at Molly, “wear this. Don’t complain, we know you could do much better. Remember, it’s not what you wear, it’s what you do. And we won’t be able to do anything if we don’t get there before Gavin does.”
“And Asher,” Lilah said softly.
The three women shuddered.
And Edward, Molly thought, the shudder turning into a warm heat that stayed with her as they made their exit.
Vivien’s soul had its own frequency. It consumed Edward, drawing him in, making him relive the horror of the last time he saw her. Her body might be dead, but her essence lived on, tight and strong right here, so close to where her broken body was found.
Even in death, the soul could tell tales.
As the limo let Edward, Asher, Gavin, Sophia, and Derry out in front of the private entrance to the Platinum Club, he forced himself not to shake in time with Vivien’s vibration.
She was dead.
Molly was very much alive.
“There was a reason you had not been to Boston in ten years,” Asher said softly, not touching him but close, his words carrying meaning. “Until Derry’s art show, that is.” His brow turned down, either a gesture of impatience with Derry’s art or—no. Impossible. Asher couldn’t be upset he hadn’t been invited to the show, could he?
“We can skip the Plat,” Asher added in a louder voice. “So vulgar. The Novo is much more appropriate for our business.”
And with that, he strode into the back entrance like he owned the place.
Derry and Sophia shared a wry look.
“We’re much more likely to find Molly at the Plat,” Sophia pointed out, her face screwed up in disappointment. Edward knew she hated the subterranean club, dismissing it as anachronistic and chauvinistic, but he also sensed a fear in her.
“It’s not as if we don’t know her exact location,” Gavin said dryly. “Along with my wife and sister-in-law. Roger landed the plane. The new chauffeur picked them up in the limo since Manny has been with me in Montana. The man is driving them everywhere and in contact with us.”
“Oh,” Sophia said softly, cheeks pinking with embarrassment.
Of course Gavin knew exactly where they were. Edward opened his mouth to confirm that they stood before the Platinum Club because the women were there when his brother beat him to it. “Then they are at the Plat?” Asher snapped.
Bzzz.
Gavin’s phone. He picked it up and said, “Stanton.” Whoever was on the other line said something that made Edward’s body go on hyper-alert before words had even been spoken.
“They what? He what? How could he— Where is my wife?” Gavin’s shout rattled through the group, Derry growing larger as he took in a deep breath, the five of them clustered together in a tight pack. “How could he lose three women?”
“Oh, Jess,” Derry muttered, washing his face with a meaty hand. Edward saw tension lines in his brother’s face that hadn’t been there even yesterday.
“The new chauffeur lost my wife!”
“And my fiancée,” Derry added.
“And my Molly.” Edward’s words vibrated into the concrete, spreading through the building, behind it to the streets beyond, finding the crack in the asphalt where Vivien’s corpse had been located so many years ago.
“Yelling in public will not solve a bloody thing,” Asher said, eyes cutting left and right as passersby stared. He grabbed Gavin firmly by the upper arm and began walking slowly toward the building. “The Novo is a better place to discuss these matters. We can get our friends to help.”
With legs made of iron, Edward followed his siblings, the front desk guard scurrying to escort them to a private elevator that took them straight down to the Novo.
He held his breath.
The descent made his stomach rise up through his throat, the palpable anxiety of Molly’s disappearance mingling with the mystery of the club he’d heard so much about. The stuff of legend and lore. Vivien’s death came at the same time when he might have begun socializing at the Novo—his marriage to a Nagy would’ve called for such things—but after her murder, he’d fled Boston, connecting the city to his deep grief.
“Of all the stupid, willful, ridiculously impulsive reactions for Lilah to have! Storming out of that damn meeting for no good reason—”
Sophia cut off Gavin’s rant with a vicious thump of her palm against the thick wood paneling of the lift. “It was for a very good reason, Gavin. The way the men in this family treat the women is atrocious. I’m the first generation to gain any hint of equality. Now you’re treating a non-family-member female like she’s some pawn in a game of yours, and Lilah’s taking a stand. Good for her. I wish I’d been more forceful when I was younger.” As she finished her words, her brow lifted, his sister’s thick hair pulling back from her forehead, her mouth set with a grim inevitability.
Edward noted Derry’s shifty gaze as he watched Gavin’s fury turn to ice-cold rage, Sophia now a convenient target for it. While he appreciated the diversion, this fight did nothing to settle his nerves.
“You’re turning this into an argument about gender? Are you insane or just stupid, Sophia?” Gavin countered, his epic eye roll enough to make Derry clear his throat, the sound reluctant and determined. Edward parted his own lips, ready to jump to Sophia’s defense, when the elevator door lurched to a halt and opened.
The scent.
The vibration.
The grounding.
Never in his life had Edward felt so connected to the earth, even as polished floors slid beneath his shoe soles. The first step felt like every joint in his body realigned, his spine stretching up, the bones in his skull that fused shut as a tiny baby expanding, sinking, the feeling of weightlessness and deep gravitas so integrative he didn’t need to breathe.
This place. This secret, mystical place. He pressed his hand against the wall next to the elevator, feeling the seam between warm, old wood and unpolished stone.
He inhaled, the scent like smelling himself.
He exhaled, muscles relaxing, as if the air itself held nutrients that fed each cell.
There were reasons other than memories that had led him to avoid the ancient gathering place below Boston. Over the years, the Novo Club has been explained and analyzed, shared and discussed, but most assumed it was just another private, exclusive club. Sure, it had been built as a safe house for shifters, much as the small rooms underneath Derry’s converted warehouse loft apartment were in place in cases of emergency, but…
This place was magic. Gavin would argue, but Edward felt it. For any shifter, standing in the Novo Club would intensify connections, vibrations, memories, pain, and love.
His soul reeled. He’d been wise to avoid it for a decade.
“Good evening, Misters Stanton,” Morgan said, coming out of the shadows, backlit by a dim, warm light. In his usual formal waiter attire, the white jacket stood out in the dark, giving his eyes an eerie glow.
“And Miss Stanton, of course,” the servant added with a nod of the head.
“See?” Sophia hissed. “Why did he acknowledge all of you first?”
“I don’t have time for this. Morgan, we need my wife’s exact whereabouts. Manny is outside waiting for me. Tell him to come here—no, tell him to start looking right away for Lilah and keep in constant contact with me.”
“And Molly,” Edward said, snapping out of it. But he dropped to the floor, shedding his shoes, needing soles and palms to connect to the beat of life. Not the Beat, but a lower hum, one steadier, one ever present in all animals, all humans, all living creatures.
And then—he felt it.
A blinding flash and a rumble that seared his ears, making him flee forward,
nearly knocking Morgan over as Edward pounced onto a leather chair, climbing up, riding the top.
Hell.
He had slipped into hell somehow, without anyone noticing.
Anything to get away from the cacophony that shattered him, splintering his bones, rattling the teeth out of his head, making him roar even in human form. Sound turned into torture as the Doppler effect took ten thousand tons of gravel and poured them into Edward’s ears, rolling the stones over every inch of skin, embedding pain-filled sand into his pores. He saw bright light and darkness, felt his body drawn and quartered through vibration, his essence transformed into agony.
Just like that, it was gone.
“Ah. The T. Sorry, Edward,” Derry said in a voice of pity. “Someone should have warned you. We’re built into the subway system. The Novo Club was quietly constructed by a group of laborers paid off with bribes. They managed to keep the secret. Father’s father and his friends bribed the city planning officials—or what passed for such officials in the late 1800s—and this club doesn’t appear on blueprints or schematics. You’re going to have a train pass every few minutes. It’s just a muffled sound in the background.”
Edward would have answered, but his blood vessels were tied in pretzels, his mind a whirling dervish. He’d forgotten about that damn train. And unlike Derry, he experienced the train quite differently.
“Morgan, get him a whisky,” he heard Gavin say, just before answering his ringing cell phone.
“He hates whisky,” Sophia argued.
“Get him one regardless,” Derry replied with a sigh. “Under the circumstances, the guy should have his own bottle.”
As Morgan handed him the glass, he took it, surprised to see a human hand, the warm liquor stinging the back of his throat as Gavin shouted into his cell phone.
“Find me my wife, Manny!”
Chapter 19
“I don’t think I’ve ever been here this early in the day before,” Lilah said.
The three women stepped out of the cab and looked up at the luxury skyscraper that held both the Platinum Club and LupiNex. Molly was impressed with Lilah’s ability to slip away from the Stanton family limo driver, some new guy named Jason. He was big and burly, but that smoke break he took—which allowed the three of them to evade him and grab a timely cab—was probably going to cost him his job.
Molly felt a pang of sympathy. Why did she always feel like things were her fault?
“You get to see the members who didn’t quite make it out the night before,” Molly said. Her jobs over the years had placed her there at all times of day. “Some of the really famous ones need help slipping out without being seen. Eva has a specific procedure just for congressmen. Another one, pretty elaborate, actually, for conservative cable news anchors.”
Well-known to security, they strode through the lobby without being stopped and were soon rising up to the top floors in the main elevator. Molly checked her lipstick in the mirror app on her phone. She wished she looked more intimidating. A round face, rosy cheeks, big blue eyes—she looked more like a harmless doll than a grown woman demanding answers.
“You look fine,” Lilah said.
She didn’t feel fine. Butterflies danced in her stomach, and her palms were slick with sweat. The scarred one felt like she’d high-fived a hot iron. “I’m angry and I deserve answers,” she muttered to herself. And a bag of ice for her hand.
“Damn right you do,” Jess said.
The car stopped at the floor that held the LupiNex reception desk. It wasn’t the floor Molly had gone to all those other times, and she began to worry that Samantha wouldn’t be there. Maybe she was just a nurse, hired temporarily for a conspiracy she knew nothing about.
But although Molly was having second thoughts, her friends were not. They hooked their arms in hers and marched to the front desk.
“Hello, Aidan. We’re here to see Samantha,” Lilah said with loud, friendly confidence to the man behind the desk.
Aidan, who was twentysomething, pierced, and tattooed, looked more like a biker than a biotech receptionist, but he jumped to his feet. “Of course, Mrs. Stanton. I’ll tell Dr. Sam you’re here.”
Doctor. Molly’s anger flared.
“Thank you.” Lilah shot Molly a quick but triumphant grin.
“Tell her we’re in a hurry,” Jess added.
No doubt because they were with Gavin Stanton’s wife, the receptionist was too professional to ask the other women to identify themselves before he picked up the phone and punched a button.
Lilah pulled them over to the seating area where they couldn’t be overheard. “What’s our plan?” she asked. “Should I talk first?”
“No,” Molly said. “I need to do that. I’d thought she was a friend.”
The glass door opened. The woman Molly had known as a nurse stood there in a white lab coat. Her red hair wasn’t pulled back in the messy ponytail that Molly expected but combed into long, stunning waves that framed her heart-shaped face. Somehow she looked taller here, and Molly had already known she was tall. But here, with her upright posture and generous curves, Dr. Sam cut an impressive figure, like an Amazon warrior in a lab coat.
“Molly?” Dr. Sam asked, her green eyes wide. They widened further when she saw Lilah and Jess.
“Hello, Samantha,” Molly said. “Fancy meeting you here.”
After a long, quiet second, Samantha nodded. She looked almost relieved as she pressed her palm against the security plate near the door and waved for them to follow her. “We’ll talk in my office.”
Molly planted her hands on her hips. “Your office? And who the hell are you, any—”
Lilah’s hand clamped on her elbow. “Your office would be perfect, Doctor.” She snowplowed Molly ahead of her through the door. “Nice to see you, Aidan.”
The door shut behind them with a swoosh and a click. Lilah patted Molly’s shoulder.
“The last thing we want is him making an emergency call to Gavin,” Jess said. They were walking down a long, tiled hallway, small individual offices and labs on either side. The color palette was mostly white with steel and black accents. Imagining her blood being secretly drawn, studied, manipulated, and stored here, a fresh wave of rage washed over Molly.
“I’m sure it’s too late,” Lilah said with a sigh. “Somebody will have notified him the second we walked into the building. Security is always really tight, but ever since the theft…”
“The theft started the moment Dr. Sam here lied about why she was taking my blood,” Molly said.
The doctor unlocked the door at the end of the hall and turned to let them in. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am, Molly. Please let me try to explain.”
“Try,” Jess said.
The office was large and airy, with corner windows that stretched from floor to ceiling, glass desks lining one wall, dotted with several computers and laptops, and a wall of bookcases on the other. In one roomy corner was a seating area with leather sofas and chairs—the expensive kind of Scandinavian furniture, definitely not IKEA.
And why not? The lying doctor was obviously important around here. Not a pink Croc in sight. “I have one question for you,” Molly began. To her annoyance, her voice began to shake. She never had been any good at confrontation. “How could you lie to me, Samantha? Or should I call you doctor?”
“Call me Sam,” she said quietly. “Please.”
“You’re not even Samantha?” Molly demanded.
“Only when I’m in trouble.”
Jess snorted. “Oh, you’re in trouble.”
“Please sit down, and I’ll explain as best I can,” Sam said, gesturing at the couch and chairs. “I know you won’t forgive me. I deserve that.”
Molly stayed where she was. She wanted Sam to stop apologizing so she could hate her more easily. “Fine. Spit it out.”
“More than once, I thought about resigning,” Sam began.
“You should have,” Molly said. “After you told me the truth.”
Sam hung her head. “You’re right, of course. But I signed quite a contract when I began working here. Telling you and leaving would’ve meant the end of my career.”
“But you’re so young,” Lilah said. “You can’t be much older than I am!”
“I’ll be thirty next month,” Sam said. “But after I leave LupiNex, I’ll have to find a different field.”
“Why?”
“I promised,” Sam said quietly.
Lilah’s voice rose. “You promised Gavin?”
“I promised myself after—” Sam stopped abruptly. “After I realized that I was getting into science that I would never be able to defend outside of these walls. Recently, however, I’ve come to realize that I can no longer defend it within them either. But before I go, I’m going to tell you everything.” She gestured at the seating area again.
Molly hesitated to sit, which might signal some kind of surrender, but she couldn’t help but be disarmed by Sam’s apology. If the doctor had been haughty and patronizing, Molly could’ve kept her anger going, but Sam looked miserable. And desperate to reveal what she knew.
“Fine,” Molly said, taking one of the leather chairs and trying not to get too comfortable in it. “Tell us what you know. But I’m not letting you off the hook.”
Sam nodded and closed her eyes for a moment before perching on the edge of the sofa. “Please,” she said to Lilah and Jess, “you’ll want to sit down for this too. I’m going to share a few things that you all need to know.”
Lilah frowned at Jess as they both sat down.
And then waited.
“Molly, you have unusual—no, exceptional—DNA,” Sam said. “When I first sequenced it, I knew my life would never be the same. I had to study it. I had to study you.”
“Without my consent.”
Sam inhaled slowly. “In my defense, I believed I did have your permission. We have a signed consent form on file, agreeing to scientific research with your blood samples.”
“I thought I was helping find a cure for cancer, not turn people into wolves and bears!” Molly cried.