by A. F. Henley
Matthew didn't waste any time. He immediately began backing toward the car. "You bet. Say hi to the wife and the kids for me."
The door to the guard shack closed. There was a shhh-ick and a clang. If that hadn't been Miller pulling the deadbolt and locking the door, Matthew didn't know what it was.
He parked the car, waited for Vaughn to do the same with the truck, and they walked to the entrance of the Center in silence. While there were many exits in the building, all of the ones on the main floor that Matthew knew about, aside from the main one, were just that—exits. If one found themselves on the wrong side of any of the extraneous doors, they had no choice but to walk back to the front, go through security, and get in that way. The two instances that Matthew had heard of where employees who had propped open one of the other doors to have a quick cigarette or take a few minutes to wander outside and then sneak back in were met with immediate dismissal.
There were areas where an employee could take a breather on site, but they were all on the upper floors and those areas were balconies. It was an additional security feature. It prevented the theft of expensive equipment, the passing of secrets, and infiltration. Short of lowering things to the ground and trying to retrieve it later, someone would have to be able to fly if they intended on sneaking something, someone, or themselves in or out. Lyle, Matthew was sure, would be able to confirm that. Lyle had spent a few months as a 'voluntary detainee' while Lyle relearned how to be Mr. Nice Wolf. If there was a way out, even just for a few moments of stolen peace, Matthew had to imagine that Lyle would have found it.
So they walked right through the massive expanse of glass that was the main entrance—floor to ceiling windows, revolving doors, a retractable set of folding panes that would allow for larger equipment to be brought in—and into the reception area as one group. They stood there, all nine of them, and looked around the lobby.
Matthew had seen it a thousand times. He'd seen it during the day, at twilight, and in the wee hours of the morning. He'd always been impressed with the size and style of it. Lots of marble, chrome, overhead lighting. At this time of the day, two security guards sat behind the round reception area, another guard stood at the elevators, and still another did rounds of the open space, walking a perpetual circle from the vending machines to the front doors to the sitting area and back again. Flat screen televisions played a loop of praise for the GDBCG at various locations throughout.
"I think we're drawing attention."
Vaughn had shuffled closer and when he touched Matthew's shoulder to ensure Matthew's attention, Matthew just about hit the roof.
"Sorry," Matthew gulped. He hadn't realized he was that edgy. Though his feet hadn't actually left the ground, the wings his heart had gained in the figurative lift-off he'd just experienced were still beating madly inside his ribcage. "This way."
He led them to the reception desk and offered the woman sitting behind it a shaky smile. In any other location she might have been mistaken for a police officer. She wore dark blue from head to foot, a gold badge over her heart and name bar underneath that, with a black service cap and a utility belt. There was no gun strapped to her side, but the leather pouch at her right held a Taser, the pouch on her left kept a set of shiny silver handcuffs close at hand, and strung in the loops rested an extendable baton and a heavy duty flashlight that (one of the chattier guards had once told him) did a way better job at knocking someone senseless than the baton ever would. On her belt, hidden at her back, a little yellow-labeled vial of pepper spray waited for its chance to be set free on an unsuspecting face. Higher up, where the labs and the executive offices rested, the guards did carry fire power. Here on street level, though, the GDBCG tried to keep everything looking as serene and normal as possible. It was, after all, just a medical facility to the public.
"Matthew!" the security guard said with a casual glance at the crew to his back. Matthew didn't have to read the name on her chest to identify her. He and Carla had spent more than a few minutes chatting during his many night shifts. She preferred them as much as he did, but her reasons had to do with a husband that worked days and twin daughters that "would cost a fortune to have to put in daycare at this age."
Carla rose. Her right hand dropped to her side. "I haven't seen you in forever," she said. "I thought maybe you left us for one of the competitors."
Matthew shook his head. "No, ma'am." He nodded back at his guests. "Special project. Off site."
A small frown creased Carla's forehead and she also nodded to the group of men. "Mr. O'Connell, pleasure to see you again. You as well, Lyle. How have you been faring?" She tilted her head and eyed the rest of them. "And let's see if I can get this right. Randall Connor, isn't it?"
"Randy," Randy corrected, stepping forward to offer his hand. "And I guess you probably know the rest of us, too. Though I'm more than sure I haven't met you in my life. Weird, hmm? Matthew, you were going to—"
"What the—" The guard behind Carla tapped something in front of him. All heads swiveled in his direction and he looked up at Carla. "Something's up with this monitor. It... I don't know? Blurred out or something?"
"Blurred out?" Carla frowned. She moved closer. "It looks fine to me."
"Yeah, I don't know? It just kinda got... funny? Like one second it was clear and the next..." He shrugged and picked up a walkie-talkie. "I'll call it in and have—"
"Carla?" Matthew knocked on the counter. "As much of an emergency as your coworker needing glasses probably is, I have to get these gentlemen up to the boardroom. Can you please let Mr. Volos and Doctor Dyball know that I need to meet them there?" He paused, weighted his voice. "Immediately. It's a bit of an emergency."
"I'll have to call up—"
He cut her off before she could continue. "Yes. Of course you do, how else will they know I need to meet them up there?"
The other guard narrowed his eyes. "By calling in advance and letting them know you're coming, like most normal people would do."
Matthew gave him a terse smile. "Are you assuming to know the circumstances by which we're here, Mr...." He quite obviously stared at the man's name tag. "Perry? Because if you think I'm going to give you those details, you are either mistaken or are assuming that I'm foolish enough to talk shop to someone outside of the realm of authority on my project."
He turned his attention back to Carla. As much as he hated sounding terse, the fact that Perry had lost interest in the flicker of his monitor was exactly what Matthew had hoped for. If he could give Gavin a few more minutes to travel unnoticed, he was doing something right. "Please let them know we're here and that we need to talk to them. I have no reason to believe they will find this request uncomfortable."
"No need to get snippy, Doctor." She picked up the phone and punched some numbers on the switchboard. "Everybody's just doing their job."
"Something that I'm sure will make everybody who's anybody very happy," Matthew told her. "Gentlemen," he looked back toward Vaughn and instead caught Randy's gaze. He widened his eyes and rolled Randy a look that he hoped said I have no idea what I'm doing here. "Follow me. I'll show you where we're going."
"Hey!" Perry quickly stood. "You—"
"You may escort us if you're so inclined," Matthew said. He extended his arm in the direction of the elevators. "But I assume there will be security waiting when we reach the executive level. Do what you need to do, but please don't get in the way of our business here."
They walked to the elevator, punched the up arrow, and as they waited Matthew saw Carla drop the phone and nod at Perry. Whether that meant 'all good' or something else, though, Matthew had no clue. But no one stopped them from getting on the elevator.
"Feels like we're walking to the firing squad," Abe grumbled as they waited for the door to close behind them.
"Could be worse," Matthew said. Inch by inch the lobby disappeared behind sliding metal. "At least you're not in handcuffs yet."
*~*~*
The last time I was here, my wor
ld changed.
Matthew looked around the boardroom and let that thought sink in. He'd always believed in potential, but he'd never realized the depth, the height, or the immensity of what potential could mean. Last time he'd sat in that boardroom, his concept of the conceivable had been altered forever; they'd introduced a world he hadn't known by introducing him to Gavin. Then he'd met the wolves. Then he'd come to understand that a person could fall in love with the same breed of monster that, going forward, would take a starring role in many of his nightmares. Mere moments after that he'd seen how easy it was to give one's body over to something he'd thought of as horrific. The boardroom had marked a turning point for him. Now it represented, quite possibly, the end of what had brought him to that boardroom to begin with—his career at the GDBCG.
He had no idea why this idea wasn't breaking him.
There'd been a time when he hadn't merely wanted to work for the Center but had coveted the opportunity. The countless hours and the self-denial that had gone into getting him there had been mentally, emotionally, and physically exhausting. He'd hadn't realized that when he set off to change the world that the world he was going to make most of the changes in had been his own, or that he'd be making those changes in the favor of something so possibly horrific as a vampire. He knew the changes he was making in his own life were good ones—he was in love, he was awake, his eyes were open, and he knew truth about the supposedly fictitious and understood its place—but a disturbing question remained. Were these changes good for everyone?
The slide of the boardroom door was barely audible—wood over carpet, nothing more than a whisper—but they all turned to face it.
"Gentlemen," Volos murmured. "I cannot even begin to tell you what a relief it is to find you all well and accounted for." Though his words were kind, his voice was unaffected and deadpan. "Can I offer anyone something to drink? Water? Coffee? Something stronger, perhaps?"
Dyball shut the door and the two men made their way to the table.
"Oh, no," Randy said. "Keep the special stock for the vampires, doc. Besides," he gave Volos a droll smile, "I'm not sure I'd trust anything you served us."
Volos's expression crumpled into what had to be feigned horror. "Mr. Connor! I'm shocked and appalled that you would—"
"And yet another face I don't recognize but who somehow knows my name," Randy said, leaning forward in his chair. "I have an idea. Maybe we can discuss the legalities of unlawful surveillance? How about the collection of personal information? Please, it's been a while since I could flex my legal muscles."
"Mr. Connor—"
"Or maybe," Randy continued, "we can talk about Mrs. O'Connell. Vaughn, what do you say? I'm pretty sure that's a topic you have a great deal of interest in."
"Mrs. O'Connell?" Volos looked at Dyball. He looked back at Randy with confusion. "We'd be happy to. How can we help you?"
"See, the thing that Vaughn probably hasn't put together in his head yet..." Randy paused and affected a second of thought, "or perhaps he has but doesn't want to admit it to himself, is the fact that he has a daughter. He is angry over the loss of his wife, and furious to hear that your Center may have been involved in her demise—"
"Preposterous!" Dyball gasped. "What is this all about?"
"—but sweet, precious Hannah still has yet to let us all know what her future is going to bring. Will she be next, gentlemen? If she ends up being a shifter, will we find her dead in the forest one day as well? A victim of a... what are they calling it... a hunting accident? Will she get the opportunity to see if she breeds baby wolves? Or do you take the opportunity to get rid of her before that even plays out? You know, just to be on the safe side?"
Volos lifted his chin and stared at Matthew. "What have you been telling this poor family?"
"What have you been telling everyone else?" Lyle said. He stood, and both Volos and Dyball drew back from the table. "Why was I targeted back in D.C.? What prompted the oh-so-cordial warden-of-all-things-green to show up at my doorstep and wonder what I might have had to do with Rafe's disappearance? What is it about us wolves that make you think we're evil? Why kill my mother? Was it just to stop her from making more babies? Who gives you the right to do that? Does anyone know that's what you're doing here?"
"Lyle..."
"Mister," Lyle growled. "If you can call my father 'mister' and you can call Randy 'mister', you can refer to me as the same. I may have been your prisoner once, but I—"
"Horrifying," Dyball interjected, shaking his head. "A positively horrifying word, young Mr. O'Connell. You were never a prisoner of the GDBCG. Your father came to us seeking assistance. Your father gave us permission—"
"Because if I hadn't, you would have reacted yourself," Vaughn growled. "Probably with the same kind of force that my wife met up with."
Volos held up his hand, palm out. "One moment. Please, everyone, give us one moment here. We came into this meeting expecting to hear what drove Wolf's wolves into hiding and we're being lambasted with questions and accusations without a moment to answer or respond against any of them! I have no idea where you've gotten this ridiculous idea that the GDBCG had anything to with—"
"They got it from me."
No one had heard the door that time or noticed Gavin's arrival. He stood in the open doorway with his shoulders drawn back and his jaw set, and he projected the aura of being somewhere in the neighborhood of twelve feet tall. His pale skin gleamed in the fluorescent lighting, his dark hair shone. He wore no gloves and he did not flinch away from the light.
"Doctor Strauss." Volos stepped forward, then back, as if confused as to whether or not he should approach. "We were wondering why you weren't here. We were concerned."
Gavin waved at him, his words a fly that was proving annoying. "Oh, I'm here. I've been here all along. And you should be concerned, gentlemen. You should be very, very concerned."
He opened his hand. He flicked his fingers. And he began to walk the thumb drive across them. "There are so many things we should discuss. We should talk about how you arranged to end Mrs. O'Connell's life due to her 'over-zealous breeding practices.' There were plans for more children, wasn't there, Vaughn? She told your doctor, you know. The sweet, helpful, beloved Doctor Clayton Briar. He asked her if she had plans to have any more children and her reply was, 'Oh, God, yes. Two more, three more, as many more as I can get Vaughn to agree to.' She was quite enthusiastic." Gavin's voice softened. He found Vaughn's eyes and held them with his gaze. "A lovely woman, Vaughn. She must have been an amazing mother."
Vaughn didn't try to respond. As Matthew watched Vaughn's throat work, he had to imagine that a vocal response might not even be possible.
"But I'll be honest with you," Gavin continued. "They have all of your wife's medical records, including the doctor's notes on her hopes to continue having children, and while there are notations with respect to the Center's concerns over that, there are no official records that I could see with them ordering her murder. I'm sorry." He flipped the thumb drive and pinched it between thumb and finger. "We have it all now so perhaps on further digging we will find more. I did find something else, though. Something I personally found intriguing."
Volos tried to speak. It took a couple of attempts to get the words out. "Gavin. Doctor. Whatever you think you've found... we can explain anything. Everything. Just... I mean... you're probably misinterpreting findings or imagining that a certain code means something it doesn't—"
Gavin shook the drive. "Had I been on my own computer, I might have agreed that statement. You are very clever when it comes to masking the things I see. And that others see as well. But I wasn't on my computer." A slow smile lifted his lips. It was not kind. "You are not so cautious with the things you keep on your own drives."
Dyball paled. As if his knees had suddenly given out, he slumped into one of the chairs. He looked desperately at Volos.
"Have you... have you been..." Then Volos did step forward, perhaps to grab the thumb drive. "Have you
been on my computer?"
"Don't," Gavin hissed. "I am not the vampire that I was when I left this building." When Volos didn't move away, Gavin moved closer. "Look at my eyes, Volos. Tell me I'm lying."
Gavin lowered his voice, and when he spoke again, the quality of his tone gave Matthew shivers. "And while you're at it, while you're thinking about how much I might know, how much I might have seen in the time since I've been gone, why don't you tell me about the blood you've been feeding me. How about we discuss why it is that when I sampled living, pumping blood that was fresh from the source, all of those shortcomings, all of those anomalies between the other vampires and myself suddenly ceased to be?"
Gavin reached out so fast that it was almost impossible to see the movement. Volos bleated a short, surprised gasp and both of Volos's hands clasped the one that now dug into his throat.
"How dare you."
It was a statement, not a question.
"How dare you use me, poison me, in an attempt to fulfill your sick and insane desire to destroy my kind. And all the while, why I subjected myself to your experiments, while you tortured me with your fire and your plagues and your sunlight, you simply stood there and acted shocked when I didn't come through them quite as well as expected. But that's what you wanted, wasn't it? That was the whole point. What we were doing... it wasn't about finding out about how the vampires lived, it was about finding a way to kill them. You were killing me. Slowly, stumbling about with your uncertainties and your half-cooked attempts, but you managed to pull some of it off, didn't you? Do tell me what it was you put in my food that fucked up my eyes so badly. Do tell me what it was that kept my reactions slow. What were you infecting me with? I will find it. I have all of the information right here."
"It's not..." Volos gasped. He tightened his hold on Gavin's hand. He could barely force words out of his throat. "We weren't... your body could fight it. It just... it kept your body doing that. Kept it busy working on getting better instead of perfecting the manipulation of the vampire virus. I swear... it would not have killed you. I kept..." He peered at Dyball, his eyes pleading. "We kept you from becoming a monster! Gavin, we... we kept you human!"