Blood Laws

by Lexi C. Foss

  “He did.” To an extent.

  “I see. Did he also mention his involvement in your medical exam?”

  Ice coated her veins. “What?” Was he implying that he knew Issac saved her life? That she nearly died from the Nizari poison?

  “Hmm, I can see he didn’t.” He typed something into his computer and swiveled the screen her way as he brought up what looked like an interrogation video. “After what you told me on Friday night, Agent Stark and I had a long chat with Dr. Patel. Needless to say, we learned who gave her the directive to administer the vaccinations.” His gaze snagged on hers for a moment, his lips tightening. “I’m sorry, Stas, but you’re not going to like this.”

  She sat forward to better see the video. He hit play. Dr. Patel was wearing a black skirt and matching jacket, her hands folded in her lap as she studied the two suit clad men across from her. Stark looked bored while Dr. Fitzgerald wore a hostile expression.

  “You recently administered a medical exam to Astasiya Caroline Davenport,” he was saying, giving the dates and details of her security interview. They went over a few documents before he got to the point of the questioning. “You gave Miss Davenport inoculations meant only for paramilitary personnel when her file clearly indicated civilian. Further, it appears you administered shots that are not part of our paramilitary exam protocols. Nizari poison, if the surveillance feeds outside of the exam room are correct. Do you deny any of this?”

  Her grin was malicious. “No.”

  Stark leaned forward, gaze steady. “Who gave you the Nizari poison, Anita?”

  “The man who hired me to give it to her.”

  “And who hired you?” he asked in the monotone she remembered well from her polygraph. The man took stoic to a whole new level.

  “Issac Wakefield.” The answer was clear and concise and it sent a chill down Stas’s spine. No. She refused to believe it. Why would he hire someone to poison her? He knew she was a fledgling and that the poison would kill her. It didn’t make any sense. He saved her.

  Unless …

  She swallowed. Unless saving her was the point. To poison her and then rescue her. To give her a reason to distrust the organization he intended to get revenge against while simultaneously instilling a deep rooted trust in him as her savior. An ingenious plan that had Issac Wakefield written all over it. She was a pawn to him, at least in the beginning. He would have had no problem toying with her life, and even admitted he might one day get her killed.

  The video continued to play and she pretended to watch it. Her mind was spinning with possibilities and adamant denial. A brilliant plan, maybe, but Issac wouldn’t do that to her. Never once did he insinuate it could be anyone other than the CRF who tried to poison her, but that video was incriminating. He was there when she got home that afternoon. Why did he choose a Tuesday night as their first date? An odd choice. Did he set it all up?

  She recalled Dr. Fitzgerald’s concern when she mentioned the shots after her medical exam. His shock was believable. That was not a man who ordered her assassination. She wondered at the time if Dr. Patel worked on her own and somehow knew about her fledgling status. Because Issac told her?

  He wouldn’t do that to me. Videos could be forged, and the timing of their date was circumstantial at best. He saved her life. Twice, if she included the Conclave. His actions spoke louder than Dr. Patel’s words. She saw the concern in his gaze when she left today. That was a man who cared about her. And he had yet to lie to her while it seemed Dr. Fitzgerald and Tom had been lying to her for years. Who should she believe in this scenario? A man who hid the true nature of his company from her or a man who was willing to risk everything to help her survive in New York City?

  Her heart was decided by the end of the interrogation video.

  “I’m sorry,” Dr. Fitzgerald murmured. “Are you familiar with Nizari poison and why it’s used?”

  She cleared her throat and scratched her birthmark. It was flaring. Odd. Is there an Ichorian in the building? His gaze narrowed a bit, studying her. Better answer now.

  “Uh, no, I’m not familiar with it.” Admitting she knew what it was meant admitting it nearly killed her. She couldn’t mention her psychic abilities. Revealing her fledgling status would get her killed, or worse.

  “It’s used to kill Ichorian offspring. Permanently. My guess is Issac wanted to test your mortality. When you didn’t react, he knew you were human and therefore a viable candidate for him to pursue.”

  She frowned. “Viable candidate?”

  “Yes. I think he intends to turn you.” His gaze went to her neck again. The mark was exposed thanks to her ponytail. “After he’s done reaping the benefits of your mortality, anyway.” A deliberately cold statement that made her shiver. He couldn’t be more wrong on that assessment. Not that she could correct him. “He doesn’t have any female progeny yet. It seems you’ve caught his fancy. He must sense something unusual about you that will benefit him.”

  “You seem to know a lot about him,” she noted, uneasy with the turn in conversation. Issac was right about his attentions influencing Dr. Fitzgerald’s interest. Him insinuating there might be something unique about her was not a healthy inference. She needed him far away from that line of thought.

  “I do. I’ve never seen him so interested in a woman. It’s made me wonder if perhaps his interest is also tied to your employment, or maybe your relationship with me. Any ideas?”

  She almost told him. It was an impulse she always had around Dr. Fitzgerald, to tell him the truth. If it wasn’t for her birthmark flaring against her lower back, she may have done it. The small distraction was what she needed to lie. Someone was using an Ichorian gift on her. Is it Dr. Fitzgerald?

  “He hasn’t mentioned anything.” She managed to get out as her mind raced with possibilities. Had the rune ever bothered her in his presence before? She couldn’t remember. Issac never mentioned Dr. Fitzgerald being an Ichorian. Was it a coincidence? Were there Ichorians near by?

  “Interesting.” He scratched his chin in a thoughtful manner. “You know, we’ve never had a female Sentinel. This could be a unique opportunity. As you’re already aware of the world, it’s an obvious next step. Of course, if you prefer to continue working in marketing, that’s perfectly acceptable. The pay won’t be as good, or the benefits, really, but I’ll understand.”

  “Are you offering me a job?” She wasn’t military trained like Tom. She would die in the field. Then wake up immortal and have to move to Greece. Why did they choose Hydria of all places?

  “It’s a win-win in my book. You learn more about the supernatural world, we keep you safe and train you how to defend yourself, and we groom our first female Sentinel. Of course, I’m just thinking on my feet here. I would have to run it by the team first.”

  She was pretty sure her jaw was on the floor. This was not at all how she expected the conversation to go. “But I’m not military.”

  “No, but you’re young and in decent shape. Stark or Tom will handle the rest. It won’t be easy, and it’ll be a lot of hard work and long hours. You would also have to end whatever you have going on with Issac, though I doubt that’ll be much of an issue after what I revealed today.”

  “Can–” The door flew open, cutting off her request to think about it. Tom stood just outside, his face contorted in rage.

  “I need a minute with you. Now.” The words were spoken through clenched teeth and directed at his father.

  Dr. Fitzgerald sighed, standing. “Stas, will you excuse me? My son seems to have lost his manners.” By the look on Tom’s face, those were the wrong words to say. What the hell had gotten into him? He looked ready to commit murder. Is that blood on his hand?

  “Yeah, sure,” she murmured at the closing door. What the fuck? Tom hadn’t even looked at her. She wasn’t used to seeing him angry, let alone disheveled. Something is very wrong with this place. She was blinded by friendship before; now she was seeing the CRF through a new lens.

  The sc
reen of the computer was still facing her with Dr. Patel’s face frozen in a smile that made her stomach churn. She stood and faced the wall. That woman was evil. No way did Issac hire her. Dr. Fitzgerald staged the interview to make it look like her demon tried to kill her. But why? That part didn’t make sense. How did he benefit from driving a wedge between them?

  She glanced at the still-closed door. Were they having a conversation in the hall? Tiptoeing forward, she pressed her ear to the wood and heard nothing. Frowning she cracked open the door and peeked out to see a white wall staring back at her. She opened it all the way and stepped out. The corridor was empty and silent, except for the room Dr. Fitzgerald left earlier. The door was ajar. Is that where they went?

  On impulse, or perhaps due to a moment of stupidity, she crept forward. Curiosity killed the cat, her helpful subconscious reminded. Good thing I’m not a fucking cat, she muttered back. She stopped outside the door, listening for voices. Nothing. So they weren’t there, but something was. Something eerily familiar. A soft humming. Her mother used to do that when she turned into mist.

  She pushed open the door to find a woman crumpled in the corner. Her face was hidden behind a curtain of brown hair. Not her mother. Not anywhere near close. But she was a woman in pain. Stas rushed forward and came to an abrupt stop when the frail woman lifted her head. Clear, sapphire eyes met hers.

  “Well, this is new.” Her British accent was a kick to her stomach. “What game is Jonathan playing now?”

  “Amelia,” she breathed. She would recognize those blue eyes anywhere. They were Issac’s eyes. “You’re alive.”

  “For today, anyway.” She stretched an arm over her head and winced. Her face was unmarred, but the rest of her was badly bruised. Someone had recently delivered a beating. A bad one. Jonathan …

  “I’ve got to get you out of here.” She rushed over to check the hallway. No cameras anywhere in this area, but how was she going to get her past the military line? The elevator only moved for Tom’s keycard, not hers. A glance back at the woman said she was in no condition to walk, and she was wearing a thin silver collar with tiny blinking light at the center. Definitely not your typical accessory. Was it a remote activated device? Would it sound an alarm if she left the building?

  “That’s rich, love.” Amelia extended her legs, revealing more bruising and what appeared to be a broken ankle. It was swollen and twisted at an abnormal angle.

  “Jesus.” She looked nothing like the beautiful woman in Owen’s photos. “What the hell did he do to you?”

  Her long dark lashes blinked once. “He beat me, of course. Are you here to do the same?”

  “No!” Realizing she yelled that, she looked to the door again and waited to hear voices. Still nothing. Thank God. She didn’t have much time and she needed to think. There was no way she could get the woman out of here in her condition, let alone with her lack of a clearance. She would have to come back for her. “Issac thinks you’re dead.”

  “Oh, this again? Yes, as I told Jonathan months ago, or maybe that was years ago. Time is a weird thing here. But yes, I have finally come to that conclusion as well. Are we done?”

  “No, I mean he won’t believe me when I tell him you’re alive.” She was sure of it. Despite trusting her to come here, he would be wary if she claimed Amelia was alive. She could probably convince him eventually, but how much time did Amelia have? If only her purse and phone weren’t in Tom’s car. A picture would piss Issac off, but he would be forced to believe it. “I need to give him something only you would know.”

  Those perceptive blue eyes that were too much like her brother’s looked her up and down. “This is a terrible game. Obviously I’m not going to fall for this.” She rested her head against the wall and closed her eyes. “Can we get back to the healing bit now?”

  An odd request, one she didn’t have time to clarify. “Look, I don’t know how much time I have.” Amelia appeared unfazed, simply rolling her forehead against the wall and groaning to herself. This woman was as stubborn as her brother. Stas thought quickly, running through what little she knew about their relationship. “You taught him to dance because it’s the way to win a woman’s heart, but he always told you he had no interest in it.”

  That got Amelia’s attention. She snapped upright and took Stas’s measure again. “What have you done to my brother?”

  “Nothing, but he may be a little worried that he hasn’t heard from me yet.” She glanced again at the door, terrified they would get caught. “Give me something to tell him.”

  Amelia’s gaze flickered to the wall beside the door, but no one was there.

  “I’m seriously risking my life right now standing here. Give me something, Amelia. I’m begging you.”

  The first signs of uncertainty filtered through her features. She frowned. “Issac sent you?”

  “It’s complicated and I don’t have time to explain.”

  “He’s okay?”

  “Yes.”

  Amelia bit her cheek, gaze falling to the floor before lifting again. “Blue butterflies. Tell him I dream of them every night.” A tear licked a path down her cheek. She didn’t bother to wipe it away. “And if this is another trick, tell Jonathan he won this round, and to go fuck himself.”

  She resisted the urge to console the woman and instead ran back to the door to check the hallway. Still clear. “He’ll come for you,” she told her from the threshold. “Even if it means burning this place to the ground.”

  “I used to believe that,” Amelia murmured, tracing patterns on the wall. It looked mysteriously like a butterfly. “Then I learned hope only equates to pain.”

  She made it back to Dr. Fitzgerald’s office with only minutes to spare, Amelia’s parting words a shadow on her soul. Her sundress stuck to her clammy skin despite the cool underground temperatures. She wanted proof of Issac’s claims, now she more than had it. And that left her with only one option when Jonathan returned.

  His smile was apologetic when he opened the door, Tom nowhere to be seen. “Sorry about that. Where were we?”

  She took a deep calming breath, careful to look nervous but not wary. Inside she was screaming. “You were offering me a job.”

  “Indeed I was. What do you think?”

  “Well, it’s a little overwhelming,” she told him. “But also exciting.”

  He liked that, his eyes brimming with pride. “It is, isn’t it?”

  His facade was masterful. Each grin charismatic, his gaze engaging, he even appeared to care for her. Yet there was an innocent woman locked up several doors down with fresh bruises caused by his hand. She felt sick to her stomach. This was worse than the Conclave. This was her mentor, her friend.

  “Now, Tom just mentioned you met Osiris,” he continued, curiosity coloring his tone. “I’m afraid that makes it a little more imperative you join us. As a Sentinel, I can give you certain resources that will save your life that are not available to civilians. It is, of course, still up to you and I will do whatever I can to help you, but it would be easier if you worked with me.”

  She worried her lower lip, hoping it would come across as a contemplative gesture. She already knew what she had to do, but if she caved too easily to his will, he would be suspicious. “You can protect me from Osiris?”

  “I can give you the tools to protect yourself.”

  “Like weapons?”

  “Among other things, yes.” He laced his fingers together on the table again, leaning towards her conspiratorially. “I’m sure Issac has promised to keep you safe, but his way would involve taking on immortality. Am I right?”

  Not in the way he thought, but she nodded anyway.

  “That’s a big decision. Are you ready to make it?”

  “No.” She wasn’t ready for any of this.

  “Joining my team would allow you more time to make your decision. It would also give you an opportunity to explore the supernatural world in its entirety before you decide whether or not to join it.” As far a
s pitches went, it was a good one.

  She pretended to consider. “It’s a tempting offer.”

  That charismatic grin slipped back into place. “Since the day I met you, I knew you were destined for greatness. I think this is it, but it’s ultimately your decision. I’ll support you either way.” She wondered if he really meant that. His tone and gaze indicated he did. Everything he did was so genuine. There wasn’t an evil glint to him, yet Amelia proved it all a sham. She would have been impressed if it didn’t make her so ill.

  “When would I start?”

  “Well, given the Osiris situation, I would say as soon as possible. I can talk to the marketing team on your behalf, save you from any hard feelings.”

  She wasn’t even thinking about her new job or her boss. What a great employee she was turning out to be. “Thank you. I would appreciate that.”

  “Then it’s settled?”

  “Almost. There’s just one thing.”

  “Oh?”

  She had to phrase this perfectly. “I don’t want to end things with Issac.”

  That sent both of his eyebrows into his hairline. “You care about him more than this opportunity? Even after the video?”

  “God no, nothing like that.” A blatant lie. “But think about it. He’s the perfect tool. He already took me to a Conclave. Imagine what else he’ll show me? Unless you already have someone on the inside of Ichorian society feeding you information?”

  He tapped his chin. “You want to be a double agent.”

  “Something like that.” More like a triple agent.

  “You have no training, which puts you in a precarious situation.”

  “I’m already in one, thanks to Issac.” She allowed some of her anger to show. Better he think it was geared towards her demon and not what she found a few rooms down.

  His grin was knowing. “Thirsty for revenge?”

  “You have no idea.”

  He considered. “We’ll need to expedite your training.”