Chapter Twenty-Three

Alice gripped the mug of coffee with both hands, looking around her at the clubhouse interior while the others poured coffee and spoke in quiet tones.

Probably about her.

The wolves had taken charge of Zela, promising to continue interrogating her until they learned everything she knew. After that, they’d call on the vampires to remove her memory of the entire encounter.

She and Ryan had made everybody promise not to kill the woman, since she’d lived up to her side of the bargain and was telling them everything she knew, thought, and speculated at a rapid pace. Seeing your colleague burning alive certainly provided incentive.

Alice pushed the memory out of her mind—it hadn’t been Charlie’s fault—and studied the room. It was a warm and inviting space. The long bar of polished wood was the centerpiece of the room, and tables and chairs and a few couches were scattered around in conversational groupings. There was an enormous stone fireplace and a jukebox and even a couple of pool tables. Maybe sometime Hunter could teach her to play. He’d stepped out of the room for a minute, but she could mention it to him when he got back.

Learning to play pool was something tangible she could think about—look forward to—to try to break through the terror that had swamped her since that woman had said they were meant to protect “the property.”

Dr. Kurchausen had always called her that. The property. His property.

He’d done it deliberately, of course, to dehumanize her. He’d done it to all of them, the hundreds of residents—prisoners—held captive. He’d told them they were his property and existed only to serve his depraved wishes.

So, yes, she liked the idea of having something to look forward to, if she survived.

If she survived.

“I’m not going back,” she announced, catching everyone’s attention. “I’m telling you that right now. Kill me if you have to, but don’t let him take me back there.”

Edge looked up from the laptop he’d been bent over since they’d walked upstairs a half hour before, after what she’d started to think of as the Great Ghost Incursion. “That, at least, won’t be a problem. There’s no ‘there’ to go back to.”

He walked over to her, carrying the computer, and put it down on the table in front of her, then turned the screen to face her. A headline screamed out at her from above a photograph of the Institute.

Hundreds Die in Fire

She clutched her stomach and bent over, gasping. Hundreds?

“How is this possible? I can’t believe it wouldn’t be a lead story on the nightly news,” she whispered, still reading the article.

“It happened last year,” Edge said, leaning against the table behind him. “And the reason it wasn’t plastered all over the news is your boy Kurchausen.”

“He’s not my boy,” she snapped. “He’s a monster.”

Hunter strode over, his own mug of coffee in hand, and sat next to her. “Well. We know about monsters here, don’t we?” His face was set in grim lines, and, when she reached for his hand, he pulled away. He tried to cover the movement by reaching out to tilt the laptop screen so he could read the article, but she knew exactly what had happened.

He knew, now. Knew she was damaged goods. The pit that opened up in her stomach slammed home the truth that she shouldn’t have tried to be normal. To have friends.

She shouldn’t have let herself care about someone or think she was cared about in return. It hurt too much when it was taken away from her.

Charlie, curled up at her feet, whimpered in his sleep, reminding her that she wasn’t the only one that the predators in the room considered to be damaged goods. She swept her gaze over all of them, the vampires and the two wolves and the Nephilim.

“It wasn’t his fault. He thought he was protecting me, and he’d never breathed fire before, so he had no reason to know that he was so powerful,” she said hotly, even though nobody had tried to argue with her. “You can’t kill him for that.”

“Kill him?” Meara snorted and poured herself another glass of something amber-colored. “We plan to give him a medal.”

“Maybe the reward those thugs kept asking me about,” Luke said, an incredulous look on his handsome face. Like the other vampires, Luke was ridiculously attractive. Tall and dark, with green eyes a shade lighter than hers, he seemed to perpetually find life amusing. She bet that he was never short of companionship, either. He’d even sent her a few flirtatious glances during the volleyball game, until Hunter spiked the ball “accidentally” at the back of his head.

Alice dragged her attention back to the article. She was getting squirrelly from adrenaline, shock, and lack of sleep. There wasn’t much more to see, though; the piece seemed to have been toned down until it contained almost nothing in the way of facts.

She looked up at Edge. “What did you mean before?”

The vampire turned his eerie silver gaze to hers. “Been doing some digging. Kurchausen is planning to run for the U.S. Senate. Can’t have a secret institute where you torture people and be a senator. Even somebody with his money couldn’t hide that from the news.”

Alice dismissed this. “No, you don’t understand. It’s not just the money. He used us—all of us whom he’d imprisoned there. He conducted horrible experiments to fuel his blood magic. And his staff—minions—perpetrated horrible abuses.”

She shuddered, suddenly icy cold. This time, Hunter reached out to her, but she pretended she didn’t see. Better to stand on her own than get used to looking for support that might not be there when she most needed it. She looked away from the sadness in his beautiful blue eyes, too. She had enough sadness of her own; she couldn’t let him past her defenses again.

Bane, standing at the bar with an arm loosely around Ryan, looked thoughtful. “Blood magic? Although horrible, it makes sense. I’ve been racking my brain to try to understand how the Chamber and this doctor crossed paths over an animal rescuer.”

She shrugged. “They never cared about the animal-communication side of my gift, only the ghost part. Evidently I channel a lot of supernatural energy when I talk to ghosts—”

“No kidding,” Carter muttered, rubbing his head. “The inside of my skull still feels sandblasted from when you told us all to stop.”

“I’m sorry. Really, I am. But, like Charlie, I had no idea I could do that, let alone so strongly.”

Charlie, hearing his name, snuffled in his sleep and curled his tail around her ankles.

“Anyway, they would siphon off my energy and use it to push Kurchausen’s ability to the next level. It didn’t matter how much power he gained, though. It was never enough. He always wanted more and more and more. I knew that if I didn’t escape, the experiments would kill me sooner or later, and the idea of being slowly tortured to death was so terrifying that I found a way to overcome my fear of the outside. I made a plan, and I escaped.”

“I doubt it was anywhere close to as easy or simple as you just made it sound to escape from that nightmare,” Hunter said softly. “You are a very brave woman.”

Despite her resolve to keep him at arm’s length, she felt a curl of warmth sweep through her at his praise. “No. It wasn’t easy,” she said, leaving it at that. “But now I find out that I would be dead, one way or another, if I’d stayed. I’d like to say that I can’t believe he killed all those people just to further his political career, but I’d be lying.”

“Well, he didn’t necessarily kill them all,” Edge said, taking the laptop. “The number listed as dead didn’t match up with the number of residents on internal Institute documents from just before the fire.”

“How did you access internal documents?”

Edge gave Alice a pitying look. “Really? Have you met me?”

“Not really—”

“Anyway, the tally was about twenty people short. Is it possible that he kept them in some other location?”

She nodded slowly. “Yes, it’s possible. It’s probable, actually. He used to gloat that he had two dozen of us who fueled all of his most ‘productive’ experiments. Then I escaped and, well, yes. It’s possible.”

“But I’m guessing you were one of the most powerful?” Hunter gave her a steady look. “It sounds like he may have been after you ever since you escaped.”

The room started to spin around her, and Alice took a long, slow breath to try to recover her composure. “Maybe. I changed my name to Darlington—”

“From Jones?” Edge pointed to his screen. “You’re listed here. Or, should I say, you were.”

He typed rapidly for a few moments and then looked up. “Done. No record of any Alice having anything to do with the Institute, ever. I even removed a couple of Alices from the past fifty years, just to be safe.”

She nodded. “Thank you. I don’t suppose you could hide any trace of me?”

He started typing again. “Working on it. I will at least remove any trace that Alice Jones became Alice Darlington.”

A hot flash of nausea struck the pit of her stomach. “There are traces there now?”

“There are always traces. It’s the internet age. But I can remove them and disconnect what I can’t remove, if any such thing exists.” He shoved his hair back from his face and got back to work.

She almost laughed. His arrogance was probably well-deserved, but it also felt like he was showing off a little bit for Meara, who watched him when he wasn’t aware of it. She glanced and caught Meara watching her, and they traded a smile, but then she looked away from the vampire. She was already too involved with these people. If she needed to run, which she almost certainly would need to do, she didn’t want any ties holding her back.

Holding her down.

She deliberately did not look at Hunter or admit, even to herself, that it might be far too late when it came to him.

She leaned down to wake Charlie up with a hand on his back and then stood. “I have to go home. I need to check on my animals.”

“Pete is there,” Hunter began, but she cut him off.

“No. They’re not Pete’s responsibility, just like I’m not yours. Please take me home. Now.”

Hunter scooped the sleepy dragon up into his arms. “Okay. I’ll take you back now. But I’m staying there with you until this is resolved, if that’s okay with you.”

“What if it’s not?”

He clenched his jaw. “Then I’ll stay outside and protect you from there until I have to take refuge from the sun. But you won’t be alone or unprotected during either the nights or days. You’re in danger because of me—”

“That at least we know now isn’t true,” she said. “It’s pretty clear that the Chamber’s interest in me stemmed from Dr. Kurchausen.”

“Keep Lady safe,” Charlie squeaked, opening one eye.

“Yes, Charlie,” Hunter said. “We will keep Alice safe.”

She sighed and capitulated. She couldn’t fight both of them. “Yes, of course you can stay with me until I figure out what to do next. That basement isn’t very comfortable for you, though.”

Meara put down her drink and pulled out her phone. “I can fix that.”

When Alice started toward the door, Max, who’d been fairly quiet, suddenly stepped in front of her.

“You’re not alone. You called me your friend, and I want you to know that you’re mine, too. You’re not alone,” Max repeated, “and whatever reckless idea you’re hatching, forget it. We’ll protect you.”

Alice wanted to cry, but she forced back the tears and smiled, just a little. “Or I’ll protect you.”

Max shocked Alice by throwing her arms around her in a fierce hug. “You’re not alone,” she whispered, and Alice closed her eyes, letting herself sink into the offered comfort and strength, just for a moment.

When she pulled back, she pointed a finger at the werewolf. “You’re not alone, either. Try not to get shot anymore.”

Max’s laughter followed her all the way out of the clubhouse.