by Mark Henwick
I bowed my head. That much had been burned into me this evening.
Fang 4 killed all the lights, and Diana passed by me. Even in the dark, I saw her eyes looking at me, weighing me. I reached out to stroke David’s brow and silently promised I would come get him soon.
“Mistress.” Pia stood in front of me, her face betraying a war of emotion and instinct inside her. She slowly tilted her head, offering her neck in the Athanate way. I kissed her and let her kiss my neck back. It felt strange, a symbol of all the confused emotions we both had about this, and it was going to take a lot of getting used to.
Skylur paused to let Diana and Pia get to the car. Unlike Diana, his copper and cinnamon scent wasn’t soothing, but uncompromising. His eyes gleamed at me in the darkness. “Our arrangement is your only viable solution,” he said quietly. “And I am starting to have a problem with it. Every step on this path, there is a situation. This is not healthy. Fix it.”
He swept out.
Bastard.
Bian was helping Mykayla, who was still dizzy. She brushed close to me, giving my hand a quick squeeze as she passed. Her eyes glared at Skylur’s retreating back as he strode to the car.
I stood by the door in the darkened house for an age after they’d left, sagging against the doorframe, weak and reeling from the whole episode.
The house seemed incredibly empty without David and Pia.
Wednesday. The timeline to nail Hoben had become impossibly tight. I didn’t even know where he was yet. Jen was at risk already, and I couldn’t just let him run around free while I was caught up in the Assembly.
Meanwhile, the question they’d all been asking me, I was now asking myself. What the hell was I?
Chapter 8
I tidied up David’s room, putting the bedclothes through the washing machine and tossing the ruined clothes in the trash. I showered and changed, taking the chance to put some of my clothes through the wash as well. Anything to keep moving and avoid thinking.
I had to stop eventually and none of it had gone away.
What did it all mean for me? How likely was I to end up rogue or Basilikos? What would happen to David and Pia if I did? If we were allowed to exchange blood, would they change again to match my marque, and become part Were themselves? Was anything that I was still holding out on, Larry or my spirit guide, going to turn into something significant and get me into even more trouble?
That twisting sensation in my head when I’d stood up to Diana to protect David—something had crystallized inside in that moment, down at the level of my bones, what I was and where I stood. The Athanate suddenly made sense. Last week they’d called me House Farrell, but it had been an empty, meaningless title. Now I felt the connections, like physical ties, to David and Pia, to Skylur and Diana; my House, my obligations. Not the details, but the important things were just there; I had acquired hard-wired Athanate instincts. And because of the Were taint in my Blood I might be outcast. I couldn’t take Pia and David with me if that happened. I couldn’t even get angry at Skylur. He was like a general when some brand-new lieutenant had just made a horrendous error. He’d support me, but not at the expense of the rest of his troops.
Wonderful. I’d achieved enough understanding about the Athanate to agree they might need to sacrifice me.
Sighing, I got out Top’s letter and read it through again. Master Sergeant Gabriel Wells had died the week before. He’d been my touchstone, the person I’d felt I could share this sort of thing with, and this was his last letter and advice. It seemed eerily relevant to me now, especially on the personal side. And at least a hint of a way to take this forward came to me as I read and reread his words.
As well as his everyday advice—deal with what you can, when you can.
I was not going to get to sleep for a long time, so I got out my laptop and the police report on animal attacks that Tullah had given me and started to read it. I didn’t try to analyze the report; it was just a quick pass through to start. I hoped the brain cells put in some overtime while I was doing other things.
I discounted the report of the wolves that spoke in Russian, and the one about the big green dog in the blue spaceship. I wasn’t too sure about one that had a wolf sliding out from under a gravestone. Even with those aside, there were lots of things in the reports that concerned me.
I’d reached the end and was about to shut the computer down when something in the filing system caught my attention.
Most of the reports were simply electronic copies of documents on the Denver PD computer. A couple had been scanned in as images from write-ups that hadn’t yet been entered into the system. I’d run across the lines on the image, making out one word in two and wondering how the people whose job it was ever managed to read these to type them in.
I came to a stop on a reference number in a stamp on the side.
What was it about the number? Something buried in my memory.
The reference numbers in Denver PD for external communications with government departments have two codes. The second code is like your checking account number—just whatever reference number the other party sets. I ignored that. The first code is like the routing code on your checks. It identifies the other party. Who was 55734? Something federal—all 55 codes were federal.
The reference code told me that someone in a federal department had requested copies of these files. And by the time the other sheets had been entered into the computer, that fact had been removed. Someone was looking into these kind of attacks, presumably over the whole country, and that someone didn’t want people to know.
Maybe there was another scientific team like Obs, hidden in the depths of some federal department, looking for subjects to study. And with the sort of legal powers that meant the subjects just disappeared off the map and into the laboratories. Like I had done at Obs until the colonel got me out. I thought of Alex, strapped down in some windowless cell somewhere with no one to hear him scream. The image was so powerful, I felt sick. I had to find out what was behind this.
I carefully copied the reference code and shut the laptop down.
I cleared my clothes from the dryer. I was done here, just starting to wind down, and I really needed a good night’s sleep. A glance at the clock made me reassess that to a good short sleep.
Where? I didn’t want to stay at David’s house, even though I was sure I would have been welcome to it. There was nothing wrong with the place, but it didn’t feel right. It didn’t attract me like Alex’s or Jen’s.
Alex was away, not that a good night’s sleep was on the agenda there. That left Jen’s.
When she’d walked into my office and hired me a couple of weeks ago, I was straight. Frustrated, because I’d been celibate for two years, unable to expose anyone to the risk of my Athanate prions, but straight. But over that two-week period, I’d changed. Diana had explained to me that, as an Athanate, I would need human blood from four or five people to sustain me. Panethus Athanate called their human partners kin, and the relationship was based on love. The fact that Jen was a woman was irrelevant to my Athanate instincts.
What came first, I thought, trying to be completely honest with myself. Was I attracted to her before I wanted to bite her? Had the Athanate need for kin come before my human feelings for her?
Neck and neck. So to speak.
It didn’t make me as uncomfortable as it would have a few weeks ago, just…a little uncertain, and very lost.
Jen had made sure I was aware that she was attracted to me. Subtly, at first. I grinned, thinking back through the last couple of weeks. Far too subtle for me, but I’d gotten the idea eventually.
And none of which made the slightest difference to my attraction to Alex.
If I wanted Jen and Alex as kin and partners, did that prove I was Panethus and not Basilikos? Now that was an interesting thought.
Well, I wasn’t going to be able to do anything with Jen until I could explain everything to her and let her make an informed decision. That couldn�
�t happen till after the Assembly—I’d just sworn to not breach any security until then, and telling a human about the Athanate certainly fell into that category.
And Alex—where to start? Had I affected him as he’d affected me? If I had, what about his pack—were they going to react to him like Skylur had to me? What were they going to think of me? Damn—what was Skylur going to think of Alex? Could Were be Athanate kin?
And even if everything else was all right, I should really admit to Alex I was looking for kin before we took our relationship any further. That would be the right thing to do, of course. He might not want to be kin.
In the meantime, Jen was close, and in danger from Hoben, even with the security I had arranged. That’s where I’d go. She’d made the offer of the luxurious guest suite at Manassah, my suite as she was calling it, and I’d take her up on that.
It was about 4:30 a.m. when I arrived at Manassah.
There was only one guard on the gate. I recognized him from the week before.
“Hi, Reynolds. Where are the rest?”
“Just me, ma’am. Ms. Kingslund decided the threat’s reduced.”
“Shit.” I knew she didn’t like the level of security I’d imposed, but it was too soon to ease off, and this was too much. “Look, situation’s changed again. Can you get someone else out here tonight?”
“Oh, sure. They won’t be happy being called at this time.” He smiled evilly. “But work is work.”
“Do it, please, on my authority. I’ll deal with that in the morning. I’m inside now. Keep the gates locked and patrol the grounds. And double up the morning relief as well.”
He nodded and let me through.
I drove in and parked by the steps up to the front door.
The house was in darkness, but the graceful Spanish arches welcomed me to the airy porch. In the shadows, her Cereus was blooming, filling the space with a scent of vanilla and apple. I paused with my hand on the door, inhaling the perfume, letting the feel of the place seep in and relax me. Lovely.
I went in quietly and moved through the house without turning on any lights.
Jen was sleeping on the sofa in the living room, half-hidden under a blanket. A laptop and a pile of company reports lay on the floor beside her. Embers smoldered gently in the fireplace, giving the whole room a warm glow. There were bottles of brandy and rum standing out on the sideboard, but the glasses were unused. One for me, one for her. She’d hoped I would show up.
I crept down to the guest suite. It had been laid out for me, with towels and robe. The bed was turned down. A couple of my shirts that must have been in the laundry when I left were hanging in the walk-in closet.
I changed into the bathrobe and carried the pillows and blanket from the bed to lay them on the second sofa next to Jen’s. With my Athanate eyesight, I didn’t need the lights on, of course, and I made no sound. She didn’t stir, even when I knelt beside her.
The light from the embers gave her face a ruddy color, but it was easy to see how beautiful she was. The memory of a dream came to me, where I had watched her sleeping in her room. I hoped it was a dream. It was entirely too creepy to think I’d been sleepwalking in her bedroom.
It was very still.
Our hearts and breathing were in sync: the deep, slow rhythms of sleep. I could see the pulse in her throat, a soft drum calling me in the darkness. So warm, so peaceful. A stray feather of blonde hairs falling across her neck was stirred by my breath.
So damned close! I jerked back upright with a start.
And so much for my Athanate side being able to hypnotize her—just looking at her had mesmerized me. I’d been a finger’s width from biting her neck. Or maybe kissing. My jaw didn’t ache any more when I thought of biting. Instead, there was a feeling of sensual looseness, as if my whole jaw were relaxing. It was the same sensation I got in my muscles when I was about to start fighting.
Jen stirred in her sleep. I backed off soundlessly and curled up on the other sofa.
I’d have to be careful.
And once I told her and Alex, what then? Why would she want to be kin?
But it was too pleasant for those miserable thoughts. Slowly, they faded as I settled. I knew I’d made the right choice to come here tonight. As I drifted, the heightened sensations of the house soaked into me: our steady breathing and heartbeat, the muted tick of a clock in the hall, the soft whisper of wind against the windows, the fireplace’s smoky scent and the occasional rustle of ash and ember.
It all tickled an old, fading memory, an elusive, bittersweet phantom of a feeling, until in a moment of surprised clarity as I fell asleep, I recognized it.
This felt like home.
Chapter 9
TUESDAY
So much for being a super-light sleeper; I woke to the smell of breakfast.
My stomach reminded me that I hadn’t eaten last night. I followed the smells to the kitchen, where Jen was making omelets and the coffee was in the percolator. She stood at the oven, still in her bathrobe, surrounded by lakes of glossy granite countertops.
I hesitated, feeling uncertain. I’d sent a message by coming back to Manassah. Jen had every right to have expectations of me. She’d been clear with me that she wanted me. But I couldn’t—mustn’t—respond until she knew the whole story.
And I couldn’t tell her yet. It felt like I was betraying her.
Her back was to me and I could see the tension in it. She’d heard me come in and she was wondering how I’d greet her. We had argued last weekend. I’d stormed out. We’d sort of made up outside the Nexus building.
I crossed the kitchen to stand next to her and gave her a one-armed hug, mainly on the practical consideration that she had her hands full with the skillet and spatula. I leaned over and kissed her cheek.
“Morning. That smells good,” I said, by way of distraction. “What can I do?”
She relaxed a touch. “Set the table and pour the coffee, honey. We’re good to go.”
We ate in the kitchen, perched on stools at the breakfast table. Jen’s cook, Carmen, normally ran the kitchen, but she had the day off.
Neither of us was quite sure how to patch things up and find our way back to the comfortable friendship of last week. I didn’t dare do anything precipitate. I could feel myself acting stiffly and couldn’t seem to fix it.
In the end, while we ate, Jen filled me in on the events after I had left yesterday. That felt like safer ground.
The Tucker Beacon company was in free fall. Jen’s lawyers were talking to them about a fire sale of the best parts, using the terms of the merger pre-contract between the companies as a lever.
“Frank Hoben’s still out there. He won’t dare show his face to challenge your claims on his father’s company, obviously. But you might want Victor’s full security detail back in place,” I suggested carefully.
Jen shook her head. “Hell, no. José says he’ll be long gone. The whole ZK gang has come apart, and they’ll all be running, every man for himself. One guy’s more than I ever needed before.”
“Jen, Hoben had a team watching the Nexus building. They followed me when I left. Whether Hoben’s in Denver or not, he’ll have someone around. Please. It’s really not safe yet. At least three guys at any time. One here all the time and two with you.”
Her pale blue eyes looked coolly at me over her coffee cup. I’d found out she had a temper, quick to blow, and just as quick to go. And she really hated the security.
“Two,” she said flatly. “One here, one with me.”
Then she lowered her head into her hands. “What the hell am I doing arguing with you? I should be thanking you. You saved my life twice and I get antsy because I don’t like the intrusion on my damned privacy.”
I reached over and squeezed her arm. “Hey. Two will do, at the moment.”
Her hand rested on mine and I was looking at those blue eyes again.
“I’ll be around most of this week, as well,” I added. “If that’s okay.”
&n
bsp; “Of course.” She narrowed her eyes suddenly. “Actually, as you’ve just said, I need more security because of Hoben.”
“Yeah?”
“Amber Farrell, I am hiring you to provide additional security for me personally, and,” she waved a hand, “to conduct an investigation to bring Hoben to justice.”
“You can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“It’s just an excuse—”
“No. You’ve proved you’re the best person to protect me. I understand you can’t be here all the time, but it’s a sensible decision—”
“You’re just doing it to—” I stopped. Pay me for being here? How could I say that? Jen was staring at me, anger clouding her face. And beneath that, pain. This was wrong on so many levels, but I couldn’t deal with it all now.
“Temporarily,” I conceded. “Review next week.”
Along with everything else.
She hid her relief by dropping her head, but I felt it, and it made me feel better too.
“What on earth do you think of me?”
“I think you’re scary,” I said.
“Not the effect I was going for,” she muttered.
“I like scary,” said my demon before I could stop it. I coughed and quickly asked what else had gone on after I’d left.
She smiled a little and picked up her story.
As José had predicted to us, the FBI were all over this now.
Jen paused, trying as tactfully as possible to give me a chance to explain why the FBI wanted to talk to me.
I snorted. “I haven’t done anything wrong, Jen. But when they start asking me questions, there are answers I can’t give without clearance and it’s going to get complicated. I need to keep out of their way, at least till next week.”
And maybe I had to disappear until after the Assembly. That, I had to be free to attend.
Jen looked thoughtful. “Hell, talk to them now. If they arrest you just on a vague suspicion I can spring you in an hour and make it really difficult for them to try it again.”