Secret Unleashed: Secret McQueen, Book 6

by Sierra Dean

  “That’s a mouthful of names you’ve got, Ms. McQueen.”

  I considered requesting he address me by my appropriate titles, but decided if he was going to be casual, so would I. I might be a government pawn now, but I wasn’t under his command. “It certainly is, Mr. van Buren.”

  “Let’s dispose with formalities, shall we?” He was on to my game and seemed willing to play. “You can call me Logan. Can I call you Secret?”

  “You can call me the Whore of Babylon if you’ll let me see Desmond Alvarez.”

  Tyler, who had a stack of folders in his hand, placed one in front of the major. Logan opened it, and I saw Desmond’s photo affixed to the top left corner.

  “Mr. Alvarez…” Logan flipped through the documents quickly, but from what I could read upside down they had a pretty complete history of Desmond and his family in there. I wondered how thorough it was. If they knew what I was, did they also know what he was? “It seems Mr. Alvarez went to a great deal of trouble to find you.”

  “He did?”

  No one had told me anything about Desmond’s part in this whole thing, so I still didn’t know where or how he factored in.

  “Very brave. Very foolish.” Logan closed the file and slid it back to Tyler. “We normally have a way of dealing with this kind of civilian interference, but with respect to you we’ve held off with Mr. Alvarez.”

  “What, do you guys have a vampire on retainer who can come in and enthrall humans so they don’t remember anything?” I snorted. When the men exchanged a loaded glance, my mouth fell open. “You have got to be kidding me.”

  “Our practices are not the concern here, Secret. Not at the moment. I understand you may find our methods questionable, but tell me this…would you prefer we employ a vampire to augment human memories, or would you rather we make those humans…disappear?” Logan folded his hands on the table and met my eyes boldly.

  He had a point.

  “I want to see Desmond.”

  “In due time.”

  “I’ve waited days. People keep dodging me. Can you just tell me if you have any intention whatsoever of letting me see my boyfriend?”

  “I thought the vampire was your boyfriend,” Tyler said.

  “I would assume the werewolf king would be your husband given your title of queen.”

  Smarmy bastards.

  “Well, the wolf king would agree with you, Logan, but if your file has any press clippings on me from the past year, I think you’ll understand why I don’t feel the same.”

  “Lucas Rain is the werewolf king?” Logan lost any pretense of decorum in that moment, becoming more excited than a child on Christmas morning. “Well, isn’t that interesting?”

  Oops.

  “You guys sort of suck at researching this paranormal stuff, you know that, right?”

  “That’s why we have you now,” Logan replied.

  “Awesome. But you still haven’t answered my question.”

  “Desmond Alvarez is in the room next door. If you are willing to sit and talk with me a few minutes longer, yes, I will give you a private audience with him.”

  My heart flip-flopped, and I stared at the wall as if I might have newly acquired x-ray vision and could potentially get a glimpse of him. Sadly my powers remained limited, and sarcasm was not the same as being able to see through walls.

  Tyler handed Logan another folder, and this one was passed along to me. I opened it, then immediately shoved it back at him. “Forget it.”

  “Secret…” Tyler started.

  “Why are you doing this to me? I’ve answered every question you’ve asked, and I just want to see Desmond. I don’t see why I need to go over all this again.”

  Logan reopened the folder and pushed it back to me. “I understand this is difficult—”

  “I don’t think you do. I think this is words on paper to you. I don’t think you have the faintest goddamn idea what I went through.”

  “Then explain it to me. Because right now, Dr. Kesteral’s fate is up to me to decide. So you explain to me what he did, and maybe I’ll have a better handle on how to deal with him.”

  I glanced down at the folder, and a glossy eight-by-ten photo of The Doctor stared back at me. Bruises under each eye made the blue of his irises even colder. He looked sick, making me think the photo was taken recently. I wanted to know if they had any pictures that showed what I’d done to his chest, but I thought better of asking.

  The tab stuck to the side of the folder read Friedrich T. Kesteral. Friedrich. It wasn’t a name to strike fear, but I didn’t think I’d ever be able to think of someone named Fred the same way.

  I turned the photo over so he would stop staring at me, and what came next almost made me throw the folder in Logan’s face. Apparently The Doctor had meticulously documented the things he’d done to me, because the file continued with more photos. Here was my chest opened up for the world to see, and next to it pictures of my split belly.

  My hands shook violently as I flipped the photo over. Tears ran down my cheeks, but I tried to pretend they weren’t there as I paged through a half-dozen more photos showing things he must have done while I was unconscious.

  The last photo of me was the most recent and had been taken after my arrival at the hospital. My eyes were closed, and they had been kind enough to give me some false modesty by covering my body from chest to thigh before photographing me. My arm hadn’t yet been set in the photo and bent sideways at an awkward angle. I’d likely rebroken it when I crammed my hand into The Doctor’s chest.

  Pink faded scars still showed where he’d cut me open, though they’d mostly healed by that point from the extra blood I’d had before the FBI team arrived.

  It was my face that upset me most. The deep blue bags under my eyes looked like bruises, and my skin was so pale I could have passed for dead. This photo more closely resembled autopsy pictures than evidence of a living woman.

  The next photo was Holden when he’d arrived, looking like he’d just wandered out of Auschwitz. There were no photos of him during his stay with The Doctor, and I thanked my lucky stars for that.

  Before going on I hesitated. “Are there…? Is Maxime in here?”

  “No. We thought it best to… We didn’t think it was necessary to include those.” Meaning the photos existed, but not in this file.

  “You couldn’t have extended your consideration to the photos of a man wriggling his hands around in my guts?” I snapped, my fingers clenching hard on the photo of Holden, wrinkling his face under my palm.

  Tyler appeared sheepish, but Logan was unapologetic. “I need you to remember this, Secret. I need you to tell me everything.”

  I flipped the page over, and an unfamiliar face stared up at me. No, not unfamiliar, but…new.

  I’d always thought I looked more like my mother because we had the same nose and the same curly hair. But the man in the photo staring back at me could have been my younger brother.

  And not the younger brother I actually had, who looked nothing like me.

  As with the photo of me when I’d arrived at the hospital, Sutherland was unconscious in his portrait, making it impossible for me to tell if his eyes were the same brown as mine, but so much else was similar.

  His hair was the same pale blond. We shared the same mouth, the same sun-starved complexion and the same ears. I touched the photo tentatively, not letting myself see the unhealed wounds marring his chest and arms, because all that mattered was his face.

  This was my father.

  It was hard to wrap my head around the idea at first since the man in this photo was younger than me, forever frozen at seventeen. But I couldn’t deny the resemblance, and my heart and stomach both flip-flopped to see his face.

  “Is he…? I never asked. Is he okay?”

  “He took longer to heal than one would expect from a vampire, but yes. He’s up and moving again, doesn’t seem worse for the wear. Physically anyway.” Logan emphasized the last part, and I understood what he
was telling me. Sutherland was nuts.

  I tried to empathize with him. My father had been turned against his will. He’d tried to murder his family and almost succeeded. He had no vampire sire to ease his transition into living with the council, but he’d still tried to be good.

  And he’d been punished.

  Punished because of me.

  Using the heel of my hand, I roughly wiped tears from my cheeks and closed the folder without looking at any other photos.

  “We couldn’t help but notice the resemblance,” Tyler commented. “Now that he’s recovered it’s…well, it’s uncanny really. Are you two related?”

  I nodded, grating my fingernails down the front of the folder. “He’s my father.”

  “Your…father?” Logan sounded unconvinced.

  “Vampires don’t age,” I reminded him. “He’s my biological father. He was turned at seventeen, right before my mother gave birth.”

  Logan nodded, and Tyler reached across the table to retrieve the folder from me before I dug my way though the cover.

  “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know,” I said. “Any details not covered by the notes, anything I have to give you, it’s yours on one condition.”

  “I’ve already promised you can see Desmond,” Logan told me.

  “And I’ll hold you to that, but I want you to promise me one more thing.”

  “It depends on what it is.”

  “When you have everything you can possibly learn from him and there’s nothing else he can tell you, I want you to put me in a room with Friedrich Kesteral. I want that room to have no windows, and I want you to leave me alone with him for an hour.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good—”

  “When this man’s usefulness to you is spent, you will put me in a room with him, do you understand? Because he’s going to die one way or another, and whether it’s sanctioned by the government or not, I will be the one to kill him.”

  Logan looked afraid of me for the first time since he’d walked into the room. Then he extended his hand and said, “Deal.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  It took Logan seven hours to ask me everything he wanted to know. In those seven hours I told him what I’d seen of the way the compound worked, how many different employees I’d interacted with, and repeated every conversation I’d had with The Doctor.

  I still couldn’t think of him as Friedrich. The name was too normal and too soft for the man it was attached to. I’d thought giving him a human name would help me feel better about things, help me humanize him and think of him as something other than the boogeyman in my nightmares, but it didn’t do any good.

  He was still The Doctor. He would always be The Doctor.

  The only way I was going to exorcise my demons would be when I eradicated him from the face of the earth. I needed to be the one who killed him because otherwise I’d never believe he was gone. Until my skin was stained with his blood and I saw the light go out in his eyes, I wouldn’t be free from the power he had over me.

  Nine days was all it had taken for him to beat me down, and now he owned me.

  It didn’t matter that he was in captivity or I was supposedly free, because in my mind I was still wearing the collar. I was still shackled to him and would be as long as he stayed alive.

  Once the major was done asking his questions—some of which were new, most a repeat of the same old story—he got to his feet and shook my hand. Tyler followed suit, giving me a firm handshake and a supportive smile.

  “I’m looking forward to working with you in the future, Secret. I think this team can do great things.” Logan nodded from me to Tyler. “Of course, I don’t need to remind you your affiliation with us would best be kept quiet. I understand your vampire council likes to believe they’ve got everyone fooled. Let’s let them keep thinking that.”

  “That might not be as easy as it sounds.”

  “You’re their leader, aren’t you?”

  “I’m one third of the leadership of one of the councils. But even there I’m outranked by one.”

  “You think you’re going to have any difficulty lying to one vampire?” Logan asked.

  “If you’d ever met Sig, you wouldn’t have to ask.”

  “Come a time you feel you’re no longer safe, you make the call and we’ll extract you.”

  I laughed, my first real non-crazed laugh since I’d been free, and the sound was so unfamiliar to me I almost jumped. “Logan, with all due respect to you, I’m not a double agent. You need me for intel on all the things that go bump in the night, fine, I’ll help you. But I’m not giving anyone up, and I’m not telling you anything I don’t feel comfortable sharing. I appreciate what the FBI did for me, and whatever part the military played, I’m grateful to you too, but you don’t understand the first damned thing about vampires. So here’s my first bit of insider information for you.”

  “What’s that?”

  “The moment I no longer feel protected by my own council, I’m already dead. Because that’s the only way I get out of there. Understand?”

  “Yes, Ms. McQueen. I believe I do.”

  “Good. Now bring me Desmond Alvarez.”

  They left, Tyler offering me a brotherly pat on the shoulder before taking his exit, and I resumed pacing the room. Logan had told me Desmond was in a room next door, yet the time between their exit and his arrival felt interminable.

  When the door reopened, I froze in my tracks, staring at the entry like a frightened deer stares at an oncoming car, knowing what was inevitable but unable to move out of its way.

  He wore a similarly shocked expression, like he hadn’t believed he’d get to see me when they brought him into the room.

  “Secret?”

  I’d missed him. I thought I’d understood the depth to which I could long for someone, but seeing him in front of me told me I had no idea. My hands trembled to touch him, and a hideous-sounding sob wrested free of my throat.

  I’d been drowning, and he was the oxygen I hadn’t known I needed.

  “Des—”

  He didn’t give me an opportunity to finish saying his name. In one moment he was filling the doorway with his body, and in the next I was in his arms. He lifted me full off the floor and supported my weight easily with a hand on either thigh, latching me to him.

  I wrapped my arms around his neck, clinging to him like he was the last refuge on an angry sea. When he kissed me, I felt years of my life being restored. His kiss and its sweet-and-sour limey tang was the last piece of the puzzle falling into place.

  His lips tasted salty, and when I pulled my face back, tears were streaming down his cheeks. I kissed each one, reveling in the joy that brought rather than the horrible anguish that had been causing mine.

  “I thought…” He drifted off when he began placing soft kisses on my cheeks and nose before finding my mouth and seizing it in a way that left me clinging to him and gasping for air. His kiss was ferocious and claiming, burdened with need. I knew what he’d thought because I’d seen the look on his face once before when he believed I was dying.

  He’d thought the same thing I had about Holden.

  Desmond had believed he was never going to see me alive again.

  I touched his face, letting my fingers memorize every line and groove, savoring the rough tug of his short beard on my palms. When I’d left he’d had a bit of stubble, but it had evidently been quite some time since he had bothered with a razor.

  “I like your beard,” I mumbled, scratching it with my fingernails.

  He laughed lightly and pressed his forehead against my sternum, where his laughter vanished into tears. When he righted himself and put me on the floor, his cheeks were stained from crying, but I didn’t think I could recall ever seeing him so damned happy.

  “They wouldn’t tell me anything. I wasn’t allowed to see you, and no one would explain what had happened to you. What happened?”

  The idea of telling my story again so soon after the major’
s rigorous debriefing was more than I could bear. I shook my head and placed a hand on his chest over his heart. “Not now.”

  “Tell me something.”

  “How much do you know?”

  “The last time I spoke to you was two weeks ago when you were flying to San Francisco.” He guided me to the chair Logan had previously been sitting in, then took Tyler’s former seat for himself. “I waited about two days since I knew you were on council business and I didn’t want to interrupt anything at the wrong time, but when you hadn’t called me in over forty-eight hours, I started to worry. I tried calling you, and I tried calling Holden since I knew he was with you, but neither of you were answering. So I called Lucas.”

  I’d almost forgotten seeing Lucas at the hotel. It felt like a different lifetime now, him kissing me in the hall while his famous girlfriend waited inside the restaurant. I longed for a time when dealing with my messy love life was the worst of my problems.

  Desmond continued, “He told me a bit of what happened, but I gather he was leaving some details out. He did say you were upset when you left him.”

  “Me? Upset with Lucas Rain? Never.” I smiled and pulled my legs up under me. I’d been sitting in these uncomfortable metal chairs for hours, but it sounded like Desmond was just getting started on his story.

  “I thought you’d bolted.”

  Ah, yes. It wasn’t the most absurd thought he’d ever had because I had run from my problems in the past. “I told you I’d never leave without telling you. I promised you,” I reminded him. In the supernatural community a promise meant a lot more than your word. It usually represented a solemn oath. I was a bit offended he believed I’d go back on mine so easily.

  “I know, and I’m sorry for thinking it. But after he told me what he’d done, and you weren’t answering…”

  “You thought I ran off with Holden, didn’t you?”

  He nodded, not pretending otherwise. “You’re a PI, Secret, tell me what you would have assumed given the evidence?”

  He was right. Even a rookie detective would have jumped to the same conclusion. But the fact Desmond was here and I’d been rescued from hell made me believe he hadn’t planned on letting me go without a fight.