In the Blood (Metahuman Files Book 4)

Home > Other > In the Blood (Metahuman Files Book 4) > Page 9
In the Blood (Metahuman Files Book 4) Page 9

by Hailey Turner


  “What happened?” Jamie asked, unconsciously using his captain voice. He wanted an answer, and he wanted one yesterday.

  “Nothing of note other than the general threats we usually receive,” Richard said.

  Jamie was well aware of the threats his father had received over the years. Being a senator and a billionaire meant he had twenty-four-hour private security bought through a firm that specialized in providing such protection and paid for with his own money instead of tax dollars. The entire family was surrounded by loyal bodyguards; some of the longer-employed ones were aware of Jamie’s status as a metahuman and bound by ironclad nondisclosure agreements as well as discreet mental blocks. Out of his entire family, only Jamie didn’t travel with private security due to his position in the MDF. He was perfectly capable of handling his own safety.

  “Then if it’s the normal kind of threats that you always receive and forward to the FBI, why accept help from the Secret Service?”

  “Because it plays well in the media. We all have Secret Service protection. So will you.”

  Jamie should have anticipated that answer—this was his father, after all, who understood media optics better than anyone save his mother—but anticipating his father’s plans hadn’t been a priority for him lately. Being blindsided by family wasn’t something that happened very often. The Callahans as a whole were prone to circle the wagons, so to speak, and band together when the family’s reputation came under attack.

  “No,” Jamie ground out.

  “The story is already hitting the news streams. We’ve released a statement regarding the early appointment of Secret Service protection. It will look out of the ordinary if you don’t have a security detail of your own.”

  The anger, mixed with a sense of betrayal, hit low and hard in his gut. “Did it slip your mind that I’m an active MDF field agent, and a metahuman on top of that?”

  Richard shot him a condescending look. “I’m well aware of your rank, Jamie.”

  “Then why the fuck would you go and agree to something like this on my behalf?”

  “Jamie,” Charlotte admonished.

  Jamie shook his head, grinding his teeth so hard his jaw briefly ached. “You don’t have the authority in any capacity to assign me a security detail, Father. What’s more, you should have notified the director of your intention to accept it early.”

  “As the director so often reminds me, I’m not in charge of the MDF,” Richard snapped back, blue eyes flashing with anger. “The same could be said that neither he nor you are invested in this political campaign to the degree you should be.”

  “I support you, Father.”

  “When it suits you.”

  “My duty is to this country, not to you, not when politics are in the mix,” Jamie bit out after a long, tense moment. “Even if you win the presidency, that’s only four or eight years you’ll be sitting at the Resolute desk, but I’ll still be working for the MDF when you’re gone.”

  “I will be your commander-in-chief—”

  “Then fucking act like one!”

  Jamie’s voice echoed off the office walls, and he was glad he’d thought to check the soundproofing before they started this conversation. For a split second, Richard looked stricken at Jamie’s outburst before the hard mask of the career politician slipped back into place.

  “You will be assigned a security detail of Secret Service special agents because that’s what I require of you,” Richard snapped in an icy voice. “I’ll leave it to you to inform your director of the change in plans. But this decision is mine, and it is final, Jamie. For once, put your family first.”

  The old argument that he did—he had—rested on the tip of his tongue before Jamie swallowed it back. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself in the midst of the latest family argument.

  “I didn’t come here to fight,” Jamie said after a long, tense silence.

  “Then why did you come, Jamie? What else does the MDF want from our family in exchange for absolutely nothing?”

  The disdain in his father’s voice made Jamie grimace. Trust his father to see right through to the real reason why Jamie was showing up for a fundraiser dinner at the last minute. But he was here, and he wasn’t one to run from a fight.

  “I need to use Empyrean as cover.”

  “No.”

  “Father—”

  “I said no.” Richard stared at him for a moment before turning to look at Charlotte. “I told you this would happen. The MDF doesn’t care about what their missions will do to our good name. I told you that agreeing to even one mission would embolden Nazari to keep asking for more until everything we’ve worked for lies broken at our feet.”

  “Don’t be so dramatic, Richard,” Charlotte said from where she sat on the leather couch, thin hands folded together tightly in her lap. “Save it for the fundraiser.”

  Richard’s mouth ticked downward, eyes narrowing slightly. Jamie watched his parents engage in a staring contest and silent argument that ended when Richard was the one to look away. For all of Richard’s wealth and ambition, for all his status, Charlotte was the richer of the two, and they both knew it. She may have supported his career in politics, played the loving, dutiful wife for the public, but when it came to her children and keeping the family name clean, Charlotte was a force to be reckoned with.

  “We’ve given enough as a family to this never-ending war,” Richard said in a low voice before turning to stab a finger in Jamie’s direction. “You have given enough. We shouldn’t have to give any more.”

  Richard stalked out of the office, loudly calling for his campaign manager. The door slid shut again, sealing off the room from the rest of the suite. Jamie glanced over his shoulder to check that the soundproofing had reset before facing his mother.

  Charlotte studied him in silence for almost a minute, strain from the argument—or just the situation in general—creasing tiny lines around her mouth and eyes. Jamie felt a surge of guilt at that realization, about the stress he was putting his parents through with this long-term mission, to say nothing of his decision to remain with the MDF. He knew they would prefer he give up his commission, lay down his weapons, and start over again as a civilian, but he couldn’t bring himself to do that.

  He remembered his mother crying over his bedside after Tripoli, in the wake of his survival by way of sheer genetic luck. She’d begged him back then to come home, and he refused. He kept refusing, but his mother never stopped hoping he would one day tell the MDF enough.

  “Why Empyrean?” Charlotte finally asked.

  Jamie cleared his throat. “Status, really. The Pavluhkins aren’t interested in people who haven’t achieved a certain level of wealth.”

  Specifically, people who had enough money to help fund criminal enterprises, Splice labs, and scattered mercenary terrorist groups through blackmail and threats. Getting even one metahuman not beholden to a state government was a prize the Pavluhkins coveted like nothing else.

  Charlotte frowned, brows furrowing ever so slightly. Jamie desperately wanted to erase the concern on his mother’s face. “We work with those people, Jamie. They’re our investors and our customers. Putting them at risk because of this mission will have lasting repercussions for our business and its bottom line.”

  Jamie clenched his hands into fists before he caught himself giving in to the tell. His mother noticed; she always noticed. Charlotte was skilled at reading the truth in body language while people spoke lies. She’d taught him how to do the same from a very young age.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t important.”

  He wondered if Stanislav had seen how this would play out, that Jamie would come away empty-handed and be forced to return to the table to bargain for something else, something worse.

  Sighing, Charlotte pushed herself to her feet and approached him, the hem of the wool dress she wore swinging around her knees. She came to a stop in front of him, needing to tilt her head back to lo
ok him in the eye. This close and Jamie could just make out the faint hint of dark circles beneath her eyes that makeup didn’t completely hide. She would touch it up before dinner tonight, but Jamie could see the campaign—and his mission—was wearing on her.

  “You forget,” Charlotte said, reaching up to smooth back some of Jamie’s blond hair like she used to do when he was a child. “Empyrean is my company, and you are my son. I will always love you, and I will always want you safe.”

  “Mother?”

  She settled his suit jacket more firmly over his shoulders with surprisingly steady hands. “Take the Secret Service security detail. Smile for the cameras tonight and any night your father needs you when you can be released from your duties. Come to the campaign stop in Los Angeles on Wednesday and the Boston rally on Thursday. Be present for the campaign, Jamie, and I will work with Gwen to incorporate your needs, whatever they might be.”

  Jamie swallowed, throat suddenly dry, lips numb from relief. “I won’t let the Pavluhkins destroy what our family has built.”

  He knew he shouldn’t promise something he might not be able to deliver, but Jamie did so anyway. Empyrean was his family’s business, their fortune, his inheritance—his life after this one. Jamie wanted it to still be there when this was all over to share with his family.

  With Kyle.

  Charlotte smiled, the twist of her lips almost mournful. “I want to believe that, I do. I know how stubborn you can be, Jamie. But this war doesn’t take prisoners, it only makes victims.”

  “I know how you choose to view what I do with my life,” Jamie began.

  His mother raised a hand, instantly silencing him. She cupped the side of his face, studying him. Jamie didn’t look away, holding still beneath his mother’s perusal.

  “You carry too much, Jamie. I worry one day the weight of duty will crush you and I don’t want to lose you to it.”

  “I chose this life, Mother.”

  “You chose what we told you to, in the beginning. I regret that, some days.” Charlotte released him and straightened her own shoulders. “I’ll deal with your father.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me for this. I love you, but don’t thank me.” She stepped around him and headed for the door. “Come along, Jamie. You can meet the men and women who will be assigned to your security detail. I’ll leave it to you to inform Nazari of the change in your status and incorporate how he wants to deal with it.”

  Jamie knew the director wouldn’t be pleased with needing to decide how to handle the Secret Service special agents newly assigned to him. They weren’t like the Callahan family’s private security, and the MDF needed to tread carefully with other federal agencies.

  I’ll have to work on giving them the slip, Jamie decided as he followed his mother out of the office.

  Dealing with the Secret Service was a massive inconvenience, but that wouldn’t stop Jamie, nor Alpha Team, from finishing the mission.

  Leah linked her arm with Kyle’s and guided him over to the living area just past the open-plan kitchen. Kyle’s eyes darted around, getting a mental headcount of everyone in the room—political aides, consultants, and Secret Service special agents who all seemed to be coming and going.

  “How have you been?” Leah asked as they took a seat on the comfortable couch.

  “Can’t complain,” Kyle replied.

  “Ready for tonight?”

  Kyle smiled tightly. “Sure.”

  “Liar,” she teased.

  “Okay, yeah. I hate being in the spotlight like this.”

  “Jamie doesn’t like it either, but he’s good at maneuvering through the verbal landmines. Just follow his lead, and you should be fine.”

  “You mean be arm candy?”

  “There’s less talking that way.”

  “Arm candy it is.”

  Not that Kyle minded being linked to Jamie in such a way. They weren’t going to confirm anything about their supposed relationship to anyone tonight, but that wouldn’t stop the gossip sites from, well, gossiping. Kyle had shown up in the holopics with Jamie back in January, endured his fifteen minutes of fame, and tried to keep a low profile when not working a mission. He and Jamie had turned into homebodies on certain occasions between being in the field and on the campaign trail. Alone time was difficult to come by, and Kyle had a feeling it would become even scarcer after this.

  Secret Service special agents were normally assigned once a candidate was confirmed during the national political conventions. Rarely were they assigned to a candidate in the early days of the race. Kyle wondered if whatever threat had prompted early assignment was related to the mission at hand. Either way, it wouldn’t be easy keeping a security detail in the dark about what they really did. There was a reason Jamie didn’t have private security like the rest of his family. With his job and his status as a metahuman, he didn’t need it.

  “You’ll be fine,” Leah said.

  “If you say so.”

  She beamed at him, and Kyle couldn’t help but smile back. Things had been easier between them over the past few months, ever since Leah found out about him and Jamie. They still weren’t close, not how he was with his own little sisters, but they got along, something he knew Jamie was happy about. Knowing that he had at least one more person in his corner would make tonight easier for Kyle.

  They chatted a bit longer about the latest television show Madison had wheedled the entire team into binge-watching—an absolutely terrible teen drama involving the supernatural that none of them could stop watching—and were arguing about the latest plot twist when Richard stepped out of the office. He shouted loudly for Juan, who came running from the outside hallway. To Kyle’s keen eyes, Richard didn’t look entirely pleased about whatever had transpired. Moments later the senator was ensconced in a circle of campaign workers and Kyle chose to ignore him.

  It was a couple more minutes before Jamie and his mother exited the office. If Richard looked displeased, then Jamie’s expression was downright stony, though Kyle wondered if anyone else outside the Callahans could read him.

  Jamie made his way over to them and Kyle stood up to greet him. “Did everything go okay?” he asked.

  Jamie ignored the question, catching Leah’s eye. “Can we use your room to talk?”

  “Go right ahead. I don’t need to finish getting ready for another hour or so,” Leah said, waving them off.

  Kyle fell into step beside Jamie as they made their way through the suite for the smaller of the two bedrooms. Some of Leah’s clothes were laid out on the bed, as if she were still deciding on what outfit to wear. Kyle, having grown up with two sisters, knew just how indecisive they could be when it came to their attire.

  The door closed and locked behind them. Kyle stayed where he was and watched as Jamie prowled the bedroom in a fit of silent anger before he shook it off. Jamie dragged both hands through his hair, looking frustrated and tired.

  Kyle went to his side, pulling his hands away from his head. “What happened?”

  Jamie grimaced, looking through Kyle as his thoughts took up most of his attention. “My father has had some threats made against him. That’s why he asked for and was granted Secret Service protection.”

  Kyle slid his arms around Jamie’s waist beneath his unbuttoned suit jacket. One of Jamie’s hands settled at the small of his back, pulling him in closer with a sigh. “Your father always receives threats, and most of them don’t pan out. What’s different this time?”

  “Nothing, according to him. He’s using it as a means to boost his standing in the polls. Being targeted ensures more stories on the news streams.”

  Of course it did.

  Kyle rose up on the balls of his feet to gently brush his mouth over Jamie’s. “But?”

  Jamie sighed, tilting his head a little to give Kyle a brief, almost chaste kiss before saying, “We can work with Empyrean in exchange for agreeing to a Secret Service security detail for me. Apparently, it will look odd if the ent
ire family has one and I don’t.”

  Kyle settled back down on his heels, but he didn’t move away. As much as he wanted to reflexively argue against that tradeoff, he knew it would be pointless. Jamie had already made up his mind, already agreed, and there was no turning back from that decision. That didn’t mean he liked knowing they’d have to watch their actions and words to accommodate eyes and ears that didn’t have the clearance to know about them. He wished Katie were here so they could speak freely through her telepathy for a deeper discussion, but they’d have to wait until tomorrow morning when they picked her up for the flight back to D.C. They couldn’t stay in this room forever.

  “The director isn’t going to like that,” Kyle said quietly.

  Jamie framed Kyle’s face with one hand, and he leaned into the touch. “I am aware of that, but considering what needs to happen, we don’t have any other choice.”

  They either bowed to Jamie’s father’s demands or lost what little headway they’d managed to gain in Paris. Neither option was appealing.

  Kyle heaved out a sigh. “Fuck.”

  “My sentiments exactly.”

  Kyle searched Jamie’s face for a few seconds before pulling him back down for a kiss that started off easy but escalated into something scorching. Jamie held onto him tightly and Kyle didn’t protest, just let Jamie take what comfort he could from him. When they finally parted, Kyle found himself panting for breath, dress pants a little tight.

  “Your sister doesn’t need the room just yet. I could get on my knees for you if you want.”

  Jamie touched his thumb to Kyle’s bottom lip, pulling it down. Kyle flicked his tongue out to lick at the whorls on the skin there. “Later.”

  All Kyle could think about was the extra attention being turned their way, and how he hated sleeping alone in the apartment he technically shared with Alexei. “You sure there will be a later?”

  “I’m not letting you go,” Jamie said, voice gone rough and resolute.

  Kyle pressed a kiss to Jamie’s thumb. “Okay. I love you.”

 

‹ Prev