In the Blood (Metahuman Files Book 4)

by Hailey Turner

  Have Wraith get you clear. Right now. That’s an order from the director.

  Our families—

  Inferno, I’m telling you to move your goddamn ass!

  Alexei nodded, even though she couldn’t see it. It was instinct at this point to obey Katie the same way he would Jamie. He gave Sean a little shake, trying to get his attention. Sean’s eyes snapped his way, full of a terror that Alexei understood all too well. It had nothing to do with their current predicament and everything to do with the people they cared about.

  “Need to go,” Alexei said.

  Sean coughed out what sounded like all the air in his lungs, as if he’d been holding his breath since the first hint of the blast. Grabbing Alexei by the collar of his uniform shirt, Sean phased them through the damaged floor into the apartments below. They kept dropping, the world winking in and out every time they passed through the solid levels of the structure. A few levels up from the street, Sean solidified their bodies, letting their feet hit the carpeted floor in a messy apartment.

  Alexei skimmed his gaze over the toys strewn around the living room before he focused on the door. He could hear panicked voices out in the hallway beyond. People were apparently still evacuating. He hoped no one else had been caught in the blast.

  “We need to go,” Sean repeated, his voice sounding like he was speaking underwater.

  “Viper wants us back at base.”

  Sean nodded, heading for the door to the apartment with gun in hand. Sean kept it pressed against his thigh and Alexei made sure he was blocking the sight of it from curious eyes. No one paid them much attention, too intent on fleeing any further attacks that might happen. Alexei didn’t blame them.

  He followed Sean out of the building, keeping an eye on his six as they finally joined the growing crowd of evacuated people, gawking onlookers, and the handful of first responders who were trying to get in position. Alexei grabbed Sean by the wrist and got them both out of there. The motor pool car they’d driven out here was impossible to retrieve without being noticed by everyone, so they kept walking.

  Alexei didn’t see the SUV the team of agents had driven in. He wondered if they’d cleared the perimeter, and then stopped wondering half a block later when the SUV braked to a hard stop on the street beside them.

  The door opened up, a tight-lipped woman beckoning them inside. “Let’s go, sir.”

  Alexei and Sean didn’t need to be told twice. They scrambled into the SUV, finding room while everyone shifted around. Sean ended up sitting on Alexei’s lap, back pressed against the blacked-out window, one arm slung over Alexei’s shoulders. Having Sean safe in his arms went a long way to helping Alexei breathe a little easier despite the fear for his family eating away at the back of his mind.

  He wrapped an arm around Sean’s waist, pulling him closer. Sean was staring out the opposite window with an expressionless look on his face, though Alexei could see just how tight he was clenching his jaw by the tendons standing out in his neck.

  “Viper?” Sean asked. “Our families?”

  Katie’s voice came through the secured uplink in the SUV since Sean’s phasing power had killed their embedded nanotech comms. “We’re doubling the agents on their security details and running facial recognition through city grids to see if any of Declan’s or Cillian’s people pop up.”

  Alexei unconsciously dug his fingers into Sean’s hip. “Not pulling them out?”

  “Wraith’s family is a little too high profile to just pluck them out of their homes and hide them away without anyone noticing. The director has split up Delta and Charlie Team to help guard them. He also assigned Prism to your family, Inferno. They’re en route as we speak.”

  The MDF’s second strongest telepath was a twenty-two-year-old woman who’d been turned into a metahuman at the age of twelve. Mercedes Gaouette wasn’t as strong as Katie, but she was a shade more ruthless with her power than Alpha Team’s second-in-command when all was said and done. Katie thought of the big picture when in the midst of a fight while Mercedes, who came from a civilian background, had no compunctions about wiping out the problem beyond the extent the law allowed her to. Alexei couldn’t say he minded Mercedes being the one to watch over his family while the MDF figured this mess out.

  “Get back to base,” Katie ordered. “The director wants to speak with both of you.”

  Alexei let his head drop against Sean’s shoulder. Sean moved his arm so he could stroke his hand up Alexei’s neck. He closed his eyes at the touch, holding onto Sean tightly, because that was all he could do at the moment as everything else fractured around them.

  He wanted to tell Sean that it would be all right, that they’d get through this, but it felt too much like when he was younger with nowhere to call home. Like when he was adrift with his family in the refugee camps before making it to one of the refugee cities in the Ukraine, never knowing what would happen next.

  7

  Show Them A Believer

  “What happened?”

  The tone in Jamie’s voice had Kyle’s head snapping around. They were sitting in the back seat of an SUV being driven by a Secret Service special agent and trailed by another car carrying several more. Both of them wore bespoke suits that complemented each other in color, the outfits more than nice enough to rank high on the gossip sites’ fashion pages, or so Leah had said. Kyle wouldn’t know.

  Right now, he wanted to know what had put that hard look in Jamie’s blue eyes, because it wasn’t one Kyle liked. Out of precaution, he tapped into the comms to listen in, keeping an eye on the two agents up front as they drove through Manhattan’s traffic-congested streets on a Monday night.

  “—uninhabitable after it was blown up,” Nazari was saying. “We’ve deployed metahumans to stand guard on the Delaney and Dvorkin families.”

  Kyle stiffened at that announcement. He opened his mouth before closing it, well aware they had no privacy in the SUV right now to ask the questions he wanted to. Jamie reached over and grabbed his hand, squeezing gently in support. Their cover tonight was the same one they’d been using since January, only they needed to be discreet about it. At some point, the cover would no longer be needed and Kyle would cease to show up with Jamie to these kinds of gatherings.

  On the one hand, he’d be happy his face would no longer appear on gossip sites. The ugly comments made about his status by a jealous public didn’t bother him. Kyle was well aware that everyone still deemed Jamie one of the world’s most eligible bachelors even if that was no longer true. But on the other hand, any romantic time they could spend together in the spotlight would cease to exist.

  “Why?” Kyle asked, pitching his voice low, needing to be brought up to speed.

  “Cillian targeted Wraith today by blowing up his apartment while they were in it. He and Inferno are fine,” Nazari explained.

  Kyle wanted to argue that nothing was fine about having a home blown up with his brother inside it. His immediate and visceral reaction to the news was one of fear, and cold sweat broke out down his spine.

  Kyle tightened his grip on Jamie’s hand, knowing Jamie wouldn’t mind, as they shared a long look. He could see by the way Jamie clenched his jaw he’d rather be back at base, hovering over their teammates than on their way to a club.

  Kyle couldn’t blame him. That’s what he wanted, too.

  “As unfortunate as the current situation is, that’s not the only reason I called,” Nazari continued. “Callahan, we’ve become aware of a third party attempting to initiate a wiretap of your comms systems.”

  Jamie’s eyebrows crept toward his hairline. “I’ve had no warning of that on my end.”

  Their embedded bioware and encrypted comms were military grade with the highest security. The fact that someone was able to attempt a hack without Jamie’s bioware flagging it was cause for concern.

  “The attempt has the CIA’s fingerprints all over it. If they’re initiating a wiretap against you, then there’s a good chance a FISA Order has been handed
down. Your father and certain people high up in his campaign are also likely being targeted.”

  Nazari sounded more irritated than worried by that fact. Considering the MDF had first requested a FISA Order months ago to monitor the CIA deputy director, the tables turning on them wasn’t unexpected, but it was annoying.

  “How do you want to play this?” Jamie asked, keeping his voice even through sheer will alone, even if the look in his blue eyes was pure murder.

  “Continue as you are. We’ll keep the wiretap blocked on our end unless we think it might be useful.”

  “I want to be informed if you do find it useful.”

  Kyle made a face. If Jamie hadn’t made the request, then he would have. Sometimes the MDF forgot about the toll these missions took on them.

  “You’ll be kept in the loop. If Bennett is trying to misdirect the people in his agency, he’ll learn we’re not easy targets to play with,” Nazari said.

  “I don’t see how that’s helpful if they’re expecting to succeed. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “I understand your hesitancy, but we don’t have the luxury of hitting the pause button right now. We’re reassessing our next move, especially in light of recent events.”

  “Will it be canceled?” Jamie asked, hiding what he really wanted to ask in an innocuous question.

  “There’s a strong possibility,” Nazari finally conceded.

  After almost a year catering to the Pavluhkins in order to get hard evidence against them, the Presnenskaya Bratva, and the criminal alliance they headed up, they were rapidly reaching the point where it wasn’t tenable to pursue Stanislav anymore. His precognitive power made it too dangerous to keep playing this game.

  Jamie pinched the bridge of his nose. “I understand. We’ll talk more later.”

  The comms cut out and Kyle tilted his head in Jamie’s direction, asking the only question that mattered to him right now. “How’s Lyosha?”

  “Fine,” Jamie promised.

  Kyle knew Jamie wouldn’t lie to him about his brother, but he still worried about how close to home the enemy was targeting them. Sean’s apartment was compromised, which very well meant all their homes could be compromised. Judging by Jamie’s grim smile, he thought the same thing as well.

  “Maybe there’s some truth to the threats against your father after all,” Kyle said quietly.

  “Maybe.”

  They weren’t in a location where they could easily discuss the latest developments, and so were forced to table it for later. Kyle would rather they skip out on the Empyrean brand party altogether and return to D.C. to reassess the mission at large. But that wasn’t an option, and they were minutes away from arriving at The Golden Rose, Manhattan’s current most popular cocktail lounge favored by the rich.

  Empyrean held branding parties every few months, never in the same country twice in a year, in order to entice prospective customers to learn about the space cruise packages available for those who could pay the cost. A company’s brand aesthetic was integral to success, and Empyrean wasn’t a company that skimped on presentation.

  The high status of Empyrean’s branding parties meant they were a magnet for the paparazzi and general fans of the social media stars and socialites that showed up to see and be seen. Kyle eyed the crowd gathered on the sidewalk near the entrance to the mixed-use skyscraper that housed The Golden Rose.

  Tonight’s party catered to a younger crowd, wanting to sell exclusive trips to people who were all looking to one-up each other in showing off the glitz of their lives to their fans. Jamie grabbed Kyle’s hand as the SUV braked to a halt in front of the literal red carpet someone had rolled out between the curb and the lobby entrance.

  “Ready?” Jamie asked.

  Kyle made a face. “I better be.”

  “Then let’s go.”

  Jamie pushed open the SUV door before an agent could open it for them. The annoyed look one of Jamie’s minders shot them as they got out didn’t go unnoticed by Kyle. He knew they should have probably waited for an all-clear—he’d been present during the lecture Lawrence had given Jamie about the function of a Secret Service security detail—but neither he nor Jamie were in the mood to wait. The sooner they got this over with, the sooner they could head home and deal with the crisis nipping at their heels.

  Kyle blinked to clear his vision of the bright flashes of lights from the cameras pointed in their direction, and the hovering drone cameras recording their every move. He ducked his head a little, wishing he’d been allowed to wear nanotech strips to hide the identifying features of his face, but that would incite more questions they didn’t need.

  Jamie wrapped an arm around his shoulders and guided him toward the entrance, the both of them flanked by the Secret Service. Oliver Burwell was the supervising agent assigned to Jamie, a stocky man who’d had a short stint in the Army before leaving after his contract was up to join the Secret Service. Older, with brown hair trimmed close to his skull and a clean-shaven face, Burwell was intent on pushing his authority in an overbearing way that pissed Jamie off. Kyle had noticed Burwell didn’t take kindly to the way Jamie ignored his requests to stay put, which only made the both of them want to break the so-called rules even more.

  Tonight, Jamie had no problem channeling the arrogance of a rich man with long practice, the condescending smile on his face when deigning to pay attention to the agents not endearing him to them at all. Kyle knew Jamie was trying to keep them at a distance because the director was still pissed at needing to decide what to do about the agents. Their identities were classified, and agents came and went; they couldn’t grant clearance for dozens of people they couldn’t trust to know who they really were.

  “There better be food,” Kyle said as they entered the sleek lobby and continued to follow the red carpet to the elevator bank.

  “There’s always food,” Jamie said.

  “I mean real food, not that bite-sized crap you rich people insist is filling.”

  Jamie slanted him a look, gaze hot and teasing. “I’ll feed you later if you’re not satisfied by what the company is serving.”

  The promise in his words caused a flash of warmth to rush through Kyle’s body, and he valiantly ignored the way his cock twitched as they stepped into the private elevator. The Golden Rose took up the top level of the skyscraper as well as the rooftop garden with its arched biodome to protect revelers from the weather. Empyrean had booked out the entire lounge for the night, employing a celebrity DJ to handle the music instead of an AI, and paying for the open bar serving only top-shelf alcohol.

  Empyrean could afford to pay for such a hook. The way the company catered to its loyal customers was legendary, one of many reasons why they had so many repeat guests, but there was always room for more.

  The elevator slowed to a halt and opened its doors on a richly decorated lounge filled with gorgeous people, most of whom looked like they’d stepped off the runway. Kyle was glad for the suit Jamie had put him in; it meant he didn’t stand out in the crowd like the Secret Service did. Considering Kyle was glued to Jamie’s side, he doubted he’d have gone unnoticed to begin with.

  A woman whose tan looked far more natural than skin dyes could hope to achieve extricated herself from a small circle of Empyrean brand ambassadors to greet them. Her straight black hair was swept back from her heart-shaped face in a multitude of intricate braids threaded through with silver chains. The turquoise cocktail dress she wore was positively demure compared to some of the scantily clad guests Kyle observed milling about in the crowd. Her big brown eyes showed none of the starstruck idolization Kyle saw in the faces of those nearby who were staring at Jamie.

  “Captain Callahan, I’m Gwen Little Feather,” she said, extending her hand in greeting. The smile she gave Jamie was professional, not ingratiating. As the president of Empyrean’s brand outreach division, Gwen knew better than to fawn over any of the company owners.

  “Call me Jamie. No need for titles tonight,” Jamie re
plied, flashing her an easy smile. “Did my mother inform you of my requirements?”

  “Yes, sir. I have the guest list with me and can introduce you to whomever you like.” Gwen flashed the data rings on the fingers of her right hand, names briefly flickering into existence in thin air before disappearing. “Nearly everyone who accepted the invitation has arrived. Where would you like to start?”

  “With a drink.”

  Kyle was all for that, and gamely followed Jamie to the long bar lining the wood-paneled wall to their right. The lounge was designed with a retro aesthetic that Kyle didn’t really care for—he didn’t need antique lamps, leather couches, and crystal drinkware to enjoy alcohol—but he wasn’t going to complain about the drinks they were serving.

  The bartenders knew Jamie on sight and the closest one promptly turned to serve them whatever drink Jamie wanted. Kyle gamely accepted his glass of Macallan fifty-year over a beer because that was some damn fine whiskey right there. Gwen demurred Jamie’s offer of a drink on the grounds she was working.

  “So am I, but this,” Jamie held up his glass, the amber liquid sloshing against the side, “makes everything easier. Let’s go make the rounds.”

  Gwen gamely led the way through the crowd to the first person on the list Jamie needed to reach out to, for both Empyrean and the mission. Kyle didn’t know what criteria Jamie was judging the guests by before offering up a free consultation with Root Source, Inc., being sure to plug the Callahan connection, but it was far fewer people than he thought. He figured Jamie would tell him later, when they were alone, why he was holding back. Right now, Kyle’s job was to be arm candy, which he really didn’t mind. The less talking and bullshitting he had to do with the men and women who flirted with Jamie, the better.

  If he managed to step on everyone’s toes who got too close to Jamie, well, Kyle never said manners were his strong suit.

  Jamie deftly handled every introduction and conversation, the star attraction of the night and the face of his family’s company. Most of the people present with pedigree names coyly tried to entice Jamie away with barely disguised promises of a fun time, ignoring Kyle’s obvious presence by his side. Kyle tried not to glower, but not even his glass of whiskey the servers kept full was enough to ensure a good mood.