by K H Lemoyne
She moved beneath his arm and he absorbed her surprise as she registered the weight around her, aware the instant she recognized him and softened.
He shifted her closer to him, and she turned, her cry absorbed against his chest. It had never felt so good to hold a weeping woman in his arms. She kissed his face, and he laughed in her stranglehold. Brushing the hair from her face, he pressed his lips to her skin, a sweet, tender touch, giving in to the need that had driven him to desperation over the past long hours. He met her lips, sinking into the flavors of his mate, and savored every corner and fold of her mouth, reinstating his soul in the kiss.
With a groan, she pushed back and stared at him. She ran her fingers over him, checked his body parts, and cataloged every wince and stiff muscle. He grasped her hands and pulled her fingers to his lips as she started to cry in earnest.
“Shhh, it’s okay. I’m here, we’re safe, together.” He tucked her beneath his chin, rubbing her back until the tension eased from her body. “Thank you for our son.”
She hiccupped. “He’s beautiful.”
“I think he would prefer strong. Or strapping,” he said with a smile. “I’m sorry I wasn’t with you.”
“He came, as you said he would.”
He ran his hand down her back and waited. She stayed silent, yet he knew it would come.
Guilt pinched her features. “A storm took out one of the trees and moved a security marker. I tried to move it into place and—I couldn’t get back to the house. There was so much blood.” His fingers stroked the lines at the corners of her eyes, continuing to feather away her worry through the story told in halting bits and pieces. He bent his cheek to her hair to hide his expression, to hide his fear for what she’d endured.
Through all the horror, he realized an irony—because Salvatore had restrained him, Grimm had been free to come to Mia. He had delivered the healing she’d needed. Skills Turen wouldn’t have been able to provide.
He pressed his lips to her neck and held her. There were no words to ease the past, no quiet phrases to relay that he’d known her terror, or how he’d raged at hearing her call, all the while unable to come to her aid. He’d been prepared to murder Salvatore in cold blood to get free to help her.
Yes, he understood Xavier all too well.
Thankfully, in the face of disaster, his mate had shown her usual courage and strength, and Grimm had come.
She held her hand to her mouth, the quiver in her fingers visible. “He said I didn’t cause it, but—”
He pulled her against him. “Shh. He wouldn’t have said that if it weren’t true. Grimm’s a pushover with women, but he doesn’t lie.”
She hiccupped trying to laugh. “I wouldn’t describe him as a pushover.”
He kissed her forehead.
“I’ve never been so scared.”
“The only true measure of courage is perseverance under pressure.” He brushed back the hair from her face and whispered against her lips, “I love you. I will owe Grimm forever for ensuring you both survived.”
“I love you too.” A small smile flickered around her mouth. “He seemed to know what he was doing. Not a big talker though. How did you get the lump on your head?”
“Definitely not a big talker.” He pulled her close. “The lump is part of what took me so long.”
“Who did that to you?” She frowned, inspecting him closer.
“Salvatore.”
She snuggled closer. “Would you like me to get you something for it?”
He closed his eyes and held her. “No. I’ll keep this one for a while. What I need to heal is to hold you until our son awakens.” He nuzzled closer. “Then I’ll bring him to you and hold you both.”
“It won’t be very long.”
“Good.” He let out a relaxed sigh. For who knew what tomorrow would bring.
CHAPTER 21
Briet waited in a leather wing chair by the window. Long blades of lemon-lime grass beyond the Sanctum’s gardens shimmered like sheets of watered silk in the wild breezes channeled by the towering mountains. It had been too long since she’d been home. Was it too much to hope she would be able to come and go soon without fear?
Unfettered access to her brother, overbearing as he was, she missed desperately. He loved her, listened to her, actually heard what she said and accepted her. Not that he was pleased about her current plan of action.
Ansgar spared no words in telling her. He trusted her, but since Turen’s capture and escape, his worry over her exposure to detection had escalated. He lurked here now, in the Sanctum halls he’d come to revile, and waited in case she needed a rescue or a diversion or both. Not wanting her to pursue this course of action hadn’t stopped him from support of her choices or ensuring her protection.
A door opened and closed. Briet tensed, listening for the brush of boots on the soft handmade rugs. Tucked out of sight, she experienced a moment of doubt, her last minute indecision making her skin itch. Could she explain her decisions, her actions? In those five seconds of silence, she reconsidered the wisdom of her plan.
“Briet.”
Well, that took care of that. She pushed out of the chair and stood to meet Grimm’s amused expression. “How did you know?”
“How could I not?”
She frowned and crossed her arms. “No. Really.”
He laughed, the sound startling her. She’d become so used to a reserved Grimm that, for a second, she stood stunned by the youthful face, wide smile and crinkles around his vibrant green eyes.
“Herbs, lemon balm, mint, rosemary. There’s a whole bouquet about you. Do you stuff it in your mattress?”
Of course, her habits had given her away. Her connection with natural compounds grounded her for the work she immersed herself in, the study of human diseases. A trait they shared. Grimm had taught and tested her on most of the compounds and herbs she now used without thought. He enveloped her in a hug that brought tears to her eyes. She’d missed this. The closeness and comfort of her friends, the people she’d grown up with and trusted. The simple contact and touch.
He drew back with a puzzled look as she tried to blink away tears. “To what do I owe this…unsanctioned and irreverent visit?”
Linking her fingers to hide her nervous need to speak with him, she launched ahead. “I need your feedback on the battle with Xavier, the one in the park several months ago, as well as Turen’s capture. And I have a request.”
“Rather heavy topics.” He frowned and stepped back. Turning away from her, he waved for her to sit again in the chair opposite his. Then elbows rested on the arms of his chair, he templed his fingers suddenly more serious. “To what end?”
“Ansgar told me that Xavier requested the woman, the one who claimed revenge on Turen, to run you through?”
He shrugged.
“With Xavier’s sword?”
A flash of something flickered in his eyes, but he turned to gaze out the window. “And?”
“Did she harm you?” She waved away her remark as he glanced back, a deeper furrow between his brows. “Never mind, I don’t really need the answer. You making light of the attack and her altercations with you, Turen, and Xavier only reinforce my theories. I’ll be honest, I think you covered for this woman.” Briet stared at the ceiling. The conclusions seemed a little more farfetched spoken aloud. “I have several paths of thought.”
Grimm shifted, tapped his fingers against his thigh. He narrowed his eyes but said nothing, no offer of help to bridge the awkward gap from questions to conversation.
Fine, she’d used the direct approach. “I’ve discovered some things, and I have information. It’s critical you know what I’ve found. Then I want your help.”
He tilted his head for her to proceed. No reciprocation followed.
Her fingers tightened in their clench. “I’ve analyzed samples from Maitea and Isabella.”
In the blink of an eye, his posture went from relaxed to rigid, and he leaned forward in his chair, alert. “That
was dangerous, Briet.”
“Only if what killed them was contagious. It’s not.” She held up her hands to ward off the lecture. “A series of compounds attacked their DNA, targeting progressive deterioration. I’m not talking about just the genetic structure unique to our people, but ones tailored for Maitea and Isabella’s specific genetic compositions. Maitea’s was far more advanced and complex. The progression and dosage were much weaker in Isabella. I doubt she would have noticed any changes, but the alteration is there if you know what to look for.”
Grimm’s fingers had stopped moving—not a good sign. Stillness in him was never a good sign. Evidence of worry, no doubt. However, he digested her information without wasting time to question her competence. The biology of what she knew, she’d acquired through his tutelage. The chemical dissection of compounds, the familiarity with a structure’s natural sequence, was her inherent gift. Her knowledge and precision were talents so specific no one could challenge her.
“How did you get access to these samples?”
Briet rolled her shoulders and took a breath. “I asked Ansgar to get a sample of Maitea’s cord blood. I suspected no one remembered it was in cryo. When she lost the baby, there were plans to salvage her DNA. The idea lost support in the fervor after her death and Xavier’s deterioration. Isa’s samples…” She ran a finger over the fabric pattern on the armchair. “Ansgar hid her body in the morgue of the building where I’ve been working until I could test her sample and confirm she had no contagion. He moved her here to my cryo pod.”
“Briet.” Grimm’s eyes closed.
Yep, he was counting to ten. One trait of her brethren she hadn’t missed. Might as well go for the rest.
“He told the council she was cremated.” Grimm’s comment signaled he was thinking through her process, determined not to shut her down, but his eyes were still closed and the count was probably still running.
“We thought it would be safer if everyone believed that. Her body was unclaimed at the human morgue, and when the medical examiner died suddenly, the timetables in the police morgue shifted a bit. Ansgar took advantage of the opportunity because we—I had questions about her death.”
His eyes were open, his gaze locked on her now. She held up a hand again to halt his comment and allow her to finish.
“The emails Ansgar intercepted from the woman in the park had pictures. He didn’t share those pictures with the council.” She took another breath and whispered the next part. “They were extracts of the autopsy photos, specifically Isa’s mark. To send something so specific she would have to know about us. The mark, a power mark, a mate mark, a specific detail of our history and our situation, would taunt Xavier and pit him against our warriors with Turen in the middle.”
Grimm winced and leaned back with a heavy sigh.
“I’ve also analyzed samples from myself, Ansgar and Turen.”
His brow rose quickly. “How did you get Turen’s—” He rolled his eyes, then covered them with his hand and shook his head. “While Turen was restrained.”
His comment wasn’t a question, but the frustration in his voice puzzled her. She knew better than to consider it directed toward her, yet more than her information was bothering him. She’d never seen him angry, and for a brief second she wondered what an out-of-control Grimm would look like. She didn’t want to know.
“Your sample, was it clean, or should I check you now?” His expression had shifted back to calm and concern, though his eyes remained worried, with shadows of strain etched around his mouth.
What would cause him such concern?
“No. There is nothing in Turen’s sample or mine, but Ansgar’s reflected a foreign structure. It was different from Maitea’s, though, similar to Isa’s, only stronger, resembling a mild painkiller. The effect desensitized his Guardian sensory functions. I wouldn’t have known of its existence had I not scrutinized the other samples. The removal from his system took months, but it’s finally gone, the structure eventually dissolved.”
“Your conjecture as to how it was delivered and its purpose?”
“I think the drug is somehow introduced here, in either the food or water at the Sanctum.” His eyes widened, though he didn’t interrupt her. “I took Ansgar off both. As I said, it took months to get him clean. My guess is that it keeps our warriors from sensing and locating their mates.”
“And Isa?”
“The toxin level was lower in her system, perhaps because she was away from the Sanctum so much plotting for Turen.” Her other thoughts on that would wait.
“And Maitea?”
Briet shook her head and whispered, “Her chemical cocktail was twofold. Part adhered to her DNA. A second strain broke down her body’s cell structure.” She stopped at his sickened expression and swallowed. “Maitea’s death was visible, tragic and spurred the whole initiative to have the women placed in cryo.”
“You’ve a link between the two. What gain would there be to placing our women in cryo?” Calm and patience persisted, though his voice was nonetheless strained, as he diligently followed through on the line of hypothesis with her. This was what she needed. Ansgar listened, but he didn’t have enough expertise in some areas to move her conjectures further or refute them.
“Why not just drug them along with the rest of the warriors?” he added.
“I believe the women posed another threat beyond their ability to mate, a skill which can’t be successfully dampened by the drugs. Something which evolved with time.”
“Such as?”
“Access to the Archives.”
His eyes sparked with interest. “Everyone was tested for abilities in that regard, and none were found to possess it.”
She nodded. “I think we tested too early. It’s possible there are other factors beyond the maturity of our powers. After I left the Sanctum, Ansgar told me about Leonis’s task to find the manual Archive remnants and restore them. Salvatore seems driven to connect with the old libraries.”
“A laborious process and a senseless request from Salvatore. Leonis doesn’t appreciate adopting Stone Age scribe practices, and he can’t search for anything. It’s useless.” Grimm shook his head.
“I can.”
He opened his eyes wider, but she held up a hand again.
“My access is limited, difficult, and frustrating, but I’m able to search. A little.”
His silence pushed at her discomfort. “So you postulate that Isabella’s death was a result of her Archive access? Salvatore waived her placement in cryo to help him. He would have known.”
Briet shook her head. She understood the question he posed, but she wasn’t ready to address her thoughts on Salvatore yet. “She’s younger than I am. I doubt she was interested in access, and her focus was on Turen and children. Or maybe the drug delayed her abilities.”
Time to circle back to the issue; he was too good at letting her ramble off course. “Given what I’ve found about Maitea’s murder and Ansgar’s drugging, bundled with the email from the woman in the park connected to Turen, I think Isabella was killed because she risked finding a mate.”
“But you said she was drugged.”
“Her level was very low, perhaps not enough to dull her sensory ability if she was in close proximity of her mate.” He was nodding slowly, so she forged ahead. “Which brings me back to the woman. Given Ansgar’s account, I think she plotted to rescue Turen. She chose a message only we’d understand, one that also implied a reason for Isabella’s death, and sent it to someone who would pay enough attention to care.”
“We’re back to her.” The tension returned to Grimm’s face.
“She knows a great deal about us. Maybe she’s not human, one of our lost people. The question is, if she’s one of us, why didn’t Turen bring her forward? Why cover his knowledge of her?”
“Perhaps the woman doesn’t wish to spend eternity in a cryo pod?” Grimm snapped and quickly held out his hand in apology. “Though of late, Salvatore is more of the opinion to h
ave this woman killed.”
She nodded and bit her lower lip for a minute.
“You have a lot of information, Briet, but all rather disparate. What help do you need from me?” He crossed his arms over his chest and gave her a stoic look.
Briet stared at Grimm. After years of training at his side, she’d rarely seen him uncomfortable. It might have passed beneath the scrutiny of someone who knew him less, but she could read him almost as well as she could read her own brother. Not only was he lying to her, because they both knew her findings were well connected, but he had closed himself off to her.
She opened her hands. “From my hypothetical, if disparate, point of view, I have…” She started with one raised finger. “Somewhat random access for me to the Archives, years after we had given up hope. My leap is that our other women have this same ability. Cryo was not a solution for safety as much as containment, a restriction of our access to knowledge.”
She leaned back in the chair and raised a second finger. “I know drugs were in Ansgar’s system, which I would like to confirm with tests on you. I believe the intent is to dampen the mating connection. I have substantiated that Maitea and her baby were indeed killed, in a cruel and inhumane fashion, which makes Xavier correct. I know Isa and an undercover police officer also died together. It doesn’t make sense since she could fold from an attack, yet she died with him. I’m making a leap to conjecture about his potential as her mate, but I have no proof. I suspect, given Isabella was young and naïve, that she provided a covert way to assess whether the women have Archive access. On that one also I have no proof.”
He blinked once, but she caught his silent agreement.
“I know Turen doesn’t have the drugs in his system, and he has some connection to this woman who has knowledge of us. I know you and Turen’s team helped him leave here after his unprecedented explosion with Salvatore. Finally, I suspect you know more than you’re saying about this woman and are covering for her. It must be terribly important for you to lie, to hide it from me.”