Over a dozen immortals and their Seconds occupied David’s living room in what felt to Lisette alarmingly like a deathbed vigil.
Every available chair, love seat, sofa, coffee table, and footstool was occupied.
Lisette sat in a flat-wing chair with Tracy wedged in beside her. Like children awaiting punishment by a stern parent, they held hands and tried to will strength and hope into the small mortal woman laboring in the next room.
Utter silence reigned, broken only by Ami’s labored breaths.
Zach, Seth, David, Marcus, Melanie, and Dr. Kimiko were all with her in the delivery room. Roland and Sean had been asked to linger in the recovery room, ready to rush forward in the event the babe should require healing once delivered. The other three healers might be either too sapped from pouring their healing energy into Ami or too busy trying to keep Ami from slipping away from them to heal the babe themselves.
Marcus whispered words of love and praise and encouragement to his wife and, by all accounts, had not released her hand since discovering her water had broken.
Melanie and Dr. Kimiko monitored Ami every second, guiding her through breathing exercises as contraction upon contraction gripped her, murmuring medical nonsense to each other, and assuring Ami she was doing well. But an underlying thread of tension resided in their voices that led Lisette and the other immortals listening to believe that all was not well.
What’s a cervix? Zach asked her suddenly.
Lisette blinked. What?
What’s a cervix? Apparently Ami’s has stopped dilating despite the hard contractions, which I gather is not a good thing.
Ummm . . . It’s a . . . female thing . . .
I already knew that. What is it and where is it located?
I don’t know, Lisette admitted.
How can you not know? You’re a woman.
Yes, a woman born in a time when women didn’t sit around discussing their lady parts.
He swore.
Hang on. She turned to her Second. Tracy?
Slumped beside her, face pensive, Tracy looked over at her. Yeah?
What’s a cervix?
Her eyebrows flew up. It’s . . . ummmm . . . Her eyes roved the room as she thought about it. Actually, I’m not sure.
Lisette didn’t feel so bad now. “Does anyone know what a cervix is?” she asked the room at large, frustration mounting. Since Ami was mortal, Lisette didn’t fear her overhearing them. And, if Zach needed to know, Lisette would do whatever she had to, to find out for him, even if she had to use Darnell’s laptop to look it up on the damned Internet.
Everyone present stared at her with what the hell looks.
“A cervix?” she repeated. “Anyone know what it is?”
Sheldon slowly raised his hand.
Tracy rolled her eyes. “Sheldon, put your hand down. Watching porn does not teach you what a cervix is.”
He grinned. “I didn’t learn it from porn. I read up on pregnancy and childbirth after Seth told us Ami was pregnant.”
Tracy’s face lit with surprise. “Oh.”
“The cervix is the lower portion of the uterus that opens into the vagina. During pregnancy it closes to hold the baby inside the uterus. During labor, it dilates or widens to allow the baby to pass from the uterus into the vagina.”
Everyone stared.
Yuri looked around. “Anyone else think that was too much information?”
Every male save Sheldon raised a hand.
Did you hear that? Lisette asked Zach.
Yes. Thank you.
His presence in her mind receded.
Once more, Lisette waited with the others.
Stanislav cleared his throat. “How bizarre is it that Sheldon knows more about a woman’s body than the women present do?”
Sheldon smiled.
More waiting.
More unbearable tension.
Several knees bobbed up and down.
Anxious teeth abused fingernails.
Stanislav’s Second, Alexei, paced back and forth and back and forth until several voices shouted at him to sit the hell down.
Suddenly, Zach swore.
What? Lisette asked, unable to remain silent.
Dr. Kimiko is recommending a cesarean.
Seth studied Dr. Kimiko. “Is there no other way?”
She shook her head. “I fully understand the ramifications and wouldn’t recommend this if it weren’t absolutely necessary.”
He looked to Melanie.
Melanie nodded.
Marcus’s eyes, when they rose to meet Seth’s, carried fear and dread and a desperate need for Seth to assure him that everything would be okay.
How Seth wished he could make that promise.
Seth leaned down and stroked Ami’s hair. “Sweetheart, the babe is being stubborn. Dr. Kimiko and Melanie think a cesarean is necessary to bring her into the world.”
Ami nodded, her sweet face pinched with pain as she breathed through another contraction. “Do it.”
“You know they can’t sedate you or numb you. Because the babe carries both alien and gifted one DNA, we have no way of knowing how the medication would affect her.”
“I know. It doesn’t matter.”
“David and I may have to—”
“Just do it,” she commanded. “I endured six months of torture. I can endure this.” She looked at the doctors. “Do it. Whatever it takes. Just keep her safe.”
That was all they needed to hear. The two women went to work. Sterile drapes replaced the lightweight hospital gown that covered Ami’s belly and the monitors strapped to it.
Melanie placed a short screen above Ami’s abdomen that blocked her view. “To keep the field sterile,” she told Ami with a smile, then looked to Seth. And so she won’t have to watch us cut her.
Seth and David had been monitoring Melanie’s thoughts ever since they had arrived so she could think concerns to them that she didn’t want to voice in front of Ami and Marcus.
Melanie wheeled a tray of surgical instruments closer to the table while Dr. Kimiko scrubbed for surgery. Seth hadn’t even thought about germs, assuming he could heal any infection that resulted if Ami’s own incredible regenerative capabilities failed her. But he supposed Dr. Kimiko had some concerns for the baby. None knew what kind of immune system the child would possess. Or if she would even possess one. None knew if the babe was infected with the virus. Ami had had such difficulty carrying the baby to term that testing the babe in utero had been deemed too risky.
Seth retook his position beside David at Ami’s head and placed a hand on her shoulder. He met David’s gaze and saw the same dread reflected in his dark eyes that Seth felt himself.
He nodded to Dr. Kimiko.
Dr. Kimiko made a horizontal incision on Ami’s lower abdomen.
Ami stiffened and clutched Marcus’s hand so tightly her knuckles turned white. Pain contorted her features. Her breathing turned harsh. But she made no other sound, didn’t scream or moan, her ability to remain silent a holdover from the torture she had endured.
Marcus leaned so close to her their noses practically touched, maintaining eye contact. Seth overheard Marcus speaking to her mentally and knew Ami listened to every word, drawing what comfort she could from it.
Before Dr. Kimiko could make another incision, the first began to heal and seal itself. She met Seth’s gaze.
Steeling himself against the pain he knew he was about to inflict, he refocused his energy and used it to prevent Ami from healing. The temperature in the room rose a degree as David, then Zach, threw their energy into the mix.
Seth’s eyes burned as he felt Ami’s pain magnify tenfold.
Lisette, and everyone else present, cringed at the first whimper that escaped Ami. Another followed. And another. Then a moan.
She heard sniffles and could almost see the tears trailing down Ami’s pale temples.
Which was more painful, Lisette wondered: Being cut? Or Seth and David’s preventing Ami’s body from doing what it did naturally and healing itself?
Another whimper.
She feared it was the latter.
Ami cried out in agony.
Darnell leaned forward and buried his face in his hands, his bald, brown head gleaming in the overhead light. Closer to Ami than anyone else in the room, he was clearly terrified for her.
Tracy tightened her hold on Lisette’s hand. “Anything?” she whispered.
Lisette shook her head. Zach hadn’t said a word since the cesarean had begun, and Lisette didn’t dare distract him. She didn’t know how large a role he played.
Icy fear abruptly breezed through her like a winter wind.
Lisette stopped breathing.
Not her fear. Zach’s.
The babe isn’t breathing, he told her.
Lisette’s eyes burned as tears welled.
“What’s happening?” she heard Ami ask, voice trembling.
“What’s wrong?” Marcus asked in clipped tones. “Is the babe okay? Why isn’t she crying? Shouldn’t she be crying?”
“Roland. Sean,” Seth bit out.
Jenna turned her face into Richart’s chest. Richart wrapped his arms around her and held her tight.
Tears slipped down cheeks as Marcus repeatedly asked about the babe, each question growing more frantic than the last.
Ami began to sob softly, her questions growing weaker.
“Roland,” Seth pressed.
“I’m trying,” Roland snapped.
“What’s happening?” Darnell asked, face still hidden in his hands. Like the other mortals present, he couldn’t hear the terse comments issued in the infirmary. He knew only that Ami’s cries had ended.
Lisette could barely swallow past the lump in her throat. “The babe isn’t breathing,” she whispered, almost afraid that saying it aloud would make the horror more real. “Roland is trying to help her. Sean, too, I think.”
Krysta buried her face in Étienne’s shirt. Étienne buried his in her hair and clutched her close.
Moments passed, so long and filled with tension that Lisette wanted to scream.
Then the high-pitched wail of an infant broke the silence.
Lisette’s breath escaped in a whoosh. Tears blurred her vision and spilled over her lashes.
Several others breathed sighs of relief. Heads dropped back against chairs.
Darnell raised his head, his eyes red and full of moisture.
“She’s okay,” Roland said in the infirmary, his voice full of relief and exuberance. “She’s okay. She’s breathing on her own now. She’s okay.”
“The baby’s breathing,” Lisette told Darnell and the others.
Some of the tension left the room.
Some, not all. They had yet to learn if the babe were infected with the virus.
“You hear that, Ami?” Marcus murmured, elation brightening his words. “She’s okay.” He laughed. “And listen to her work those lungs!”
Lisette smiled through her tears. The poor babe sounded pissed.
“Ami?” Marcus said, the jubilance draining from his voice. “Ami, sweetling?”
Everyone tensed.
“Ami?” Marcus called, his panic palpable. “Why isn’t she responding? What’s wrong with her?”
“Dr. Kimiko,” Seth said.
“Ami, can you hear me?” the doctor asked. In a lower voice, she said, “The incisions aren’t healing. Are you still blocking her regenerative capabilities?”
“No,” Seth answered.
“Is she bleeding internally?”
“No.”
“Her pulse is thready. Are you trying to heal her?”
“Yes. I’m pouring as much strength and energy into her as I can,” Seth said.
“As am I,” David added.
“And I.” Zach said.
Minutes ticked past. Minutes during which the babe’s cries quieted to snuffles. Since the doctors were occupied with Ami, Lisette assumed Roland and Sean were cleaning up the baby. Wrapping her in a warm blanket. Doing . . . whatever it was that doctors and nurses did to newborns.
“Ami?” Marcus repeated, his voice choked and barely climbing above a whisper. “Come on, sweetling. Don’t do this to me. Don’t leave me. Please.”
“The incisions are starting to heal,” Dr. Kimiko announced. “Her pulse is getting stronger.”
“Her blood pressure is improving, too,” Melanie murmured.
Lisette conveyed the latest to the Seconds present.
More minutes.
More knees bobbing up and down.
More nail chewing.
“She’s stable,” Dr. Kimiko announced.
“Seth?” Marcus asked.
“I think Ami has slipped into her healing sleep,” Seth told him.
“You think or you know?”
A pause. “I think. If she has, it’s different this time, perhaps because we depleted her energy and kept her from healing long enough for the babe to be born.”
“Is she going to be okay?”
“Yes.”
“Seth,” Zach said, a faint reprimand.
“She’ll be okay,” Seth insisted, “if I have to feed her energy twenty-four hours a day until she wakes up. She’ll be okay.”
Seated at his desk in network headquarters, Chris Reordon rubbed eyes that burned from fatigue. He’d pulled too many all-nighters lately, trying to help Seth track down whoever the hell was betraying the Immortal Guardians. Now one of the vampires had admitted to leaving the area he was allowed to roam at headquarters and had stolen high-tech equipment, so Chris had to watch last night’s surveillance video to see what else the young vamp might have gotten into.
Dragging his hands down his face, he eyed with longing the cushy seven-foot sofa that had been his sleeping place more often of late than his bed at home. He looked at the clock.
No. He needed to get this shit done, so he could fill Seth in as soon as Seth finished helping Ami. Another concern.
Sheldon, of all people, had been thoughtful enough to text Chris and send him updates. According to the last, the babe was breathing (it had been a long damn wait for that text after Sheldon had texted him that the babe wasn’t breathing), but Ami had slipped into what Seth and the others hoped was a healing sleep and remained unresponsive.
Seth continued to try to revive her.
Chris forced himself to refocus on the computer screen. Nearly the size of one of the large-screen televisions every sports fan dreamed of owning, it bathed his office in faint blue light. A sleek desk lamp provided a small circle of sunny illumination in which his trusty notebook and pencil rested.
Multiple windows divided the monitor’s screen, each offering video surveillance footage from the cameras on sublevels four and five. Chris touched the space bar on the keyboard and set all of the videos into motion.
He had feigned anger earlier when the young vampire had admitted his deed, but it had just been for show. Since Cliff, one of the first three vampires ever to reside at network headquarters, had made this his home, he had won Chris’s respect. Descending into madness was a harsh price to pay for a stupid mistake made in one’s teen years. And Cliff had succeeded longer than any of the others in staving off the insanity. The young man had a will as strong as iron. Courage, too. And honor. Chris couldn’t help but like him.
Did Chris like that Cliff had flagrantly disobeyed the rules and stolen from the network?
No. But Chris sure as hell admired the kid’s reasons for doing it. And the tracking device Cliff had planted would provide them with invaluable information. Chris’s tech team already worked on tracing the newbie vampire’s return to what they hoped would be the vampires’ lair.
Chris was curious to see what the lair of such well-trained vampires would comprise.
He grunted when the footage he sought finally rolled around. “There he goes,” he murmured, scribbling the camera number and video time code in his notebook.
Biting into an apple, Cliff strode down the hallway toward the open door of Melanie’s office and headed inside. Anyone not specifically looking for it would have missed the barely noticeable blur that shot from the room a few minutes later.
Chris turned his attention to the camera focused on the elevator doors and rewound the video several frames. Dr. Whetsman stepped off the elevator and greeted Todd and the other guards. At the last possible moment before the elevator doors slid closed, Cliff swept inside. A couple of guards looked around with a frown, but most hadn’t noticed the breeze the vamp created as Dr. Whetsman distracted them with his latest bitch fest.
Millisecond by millisecond, Chris was able to piece together and track the shrewd vampire’s progress as he sped through the fourth sublevel to the room the techies used to store the expensive toys they designed for immortals, Seconds, and network guards.
The kid was smart.
By all appearances, Cliff had only taken two tracking devices (one of which he had returned to Chris earlier), then had gone right back to Melanie’s office on the fifth sublevel. But Chris couldn’t afford to take chances. He needed to be certain. So he grasped the hot, steaming mug of coffee he hadn’t noticed his assistant place at his elbow, downed a few scalding gulps, reached for the sandwich she had also thoughtfully provided, then continued to watch the video.
Hours ticked by as he scoured footage from all five sublevels, then moved on to the ground floor.
The texts from Sheldon stopped around sunrise. Still no change in Ami.
Chris couldn’t bring himself to ask about the baby. Was the little one infected with the virus? Was she vampire?
Something caught his eye in the footage provided by the camera aimed at the large granite desk. The guards seated behind it cleared every employee who entered and exited the building, ensuring no one who didn’t belong got past the foyer.
The big bite of sandwich Chris had taken nearly flew out of his mouth.
“What the hell?” He rewound the video. Played it forward in painfully slow increments. Gaped at what it revealed.
Shoving the sandwich plate aside so forcefully it skidded across his desk and tumbled to the floor, Chris wrote furiously in his ever-present notebook.
Two hours later, he sat back and stared at the computer screen.
He needed to talk to Seth, but—last he had heard—Seth was still pouring energy into Ami, trying to heal her or revive her or whatever it took to get her to open her eyes. David probably was, too.
Picking up the phone, he dialed Darnell’s number.
“Yeah?”
“Hey. How’s Ami?” Chris asked.
“Still unresponsive,” Darnell said, voice grave. “Seth said she didn’t even rouse when Melanie put the baby to Ami’s breast to see if she would nurse.”
“The baby’s . . . okay?” Chris forced himself to ask.
Darnell lowered his voice to a whisper. “No fangs or glowing eyes, if that’s what you’re asking. And Roland said he couldn’t smell the virus on her.”
“What about Seth or David?”
“They can’t either, but”—his voice quieted even more—“they’re both exhausted. I don’t know how they’re even still conscious. They haven’t stopped pouring energy into Ami since her labor began.”
Shit.
“What’s wrong?” Darnell asked when Chris went silent.
“I need to talk to them.”
“Can you do it here?”
“Can I use your laptop?”
“Of course.”
“Then, yes. Hey, did the baby nurse?”
“Tried to. Ami’s milk hasn’t come in. But Melanie said that’s normal, that—for human women—it can take three or four days.”
Which didn’t necessarily mean Ami’s milk would follow the same timetable or come in at all. It sounded as though they weren’t even sure Ami would live. “Okay. I’ll be there shortly.”
Zach.
Zach’s eyes flew open.
Curled up beside him in bed in the quiet room they had claimed for the day, Lisette slept deeply.
They hadn’t made love before retiring. Both had felt too drained: Zach drained of energy and Lisette drained emotionally from the hours of worry and anxiety that had gripped her as Ami had labored. Instead they had clung to each other, absorbing the peace and comfort it brought them.
Zach, Seth repeated in his head.
What?
Meet me in David’s study.
Zach glanced at the clock beside the bed. Only an hour had passed since he and Lisette had drifted off to sleep. Sighing, he gently lifted the arm Lisette had thrown across his chest and rested it on her side, then tried to ease out from under the thigh she had draped over him. He swore as he grew hard from the sweet contact.
Lisette slid her arm back across his chest and scooted closer. “What are you doing? Don’t go.”
“I have to. Seth needs me.”
She lifted her head.
Zach smiled.
Her long raven hair, loose and tangled, obscured most of her face. Her adorable features contorted in a frown as she batted it out of the way and peered up at him with heavy-lidded eyes. “Is it Ami?”
“I don’t think so. He told me to meet him in the study.”
“Oh. Okay.”
With great reluctance, Zach slid out from under her and stood beside the bed. “Go back to sleep.” He leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to her lips.
“Hurry back,” she murmured, and dropped her head onto his pillow, hugging it to her chest.
Zach brushed a hand over her hair, then donned a pair of pants and slipped from the room.
Across the hall, Roland Warbrook eased from the bedroom he and Sarah shared, his feet bare like Zach’s, his hair tousled from sleep.
The two men shared a look.
Roland had never apologized for choking Zach with a piano wire when he, Sarah, and Lisette had captured Zach and interrogated him. But Zach didn’t hold it against him.
“Infirmary?” Roland asked. Apparently he had been summoned for a different purpose.
Zach shook his head. “David’s study.”
They headed upstairs.
Roland continued on to the infirmary. Zach turned into David’s study.
Darnell waited within. “Hey.”
Zach nodded.
When Darnell motioned to one of the chairs in front of David’s desk, Zach sank down in the comfortable leather and unashamedly eavesdropped on the infirmary.
“What’s up?” Roland asked.
“David and I need to meet with Chris. Would you sit with Ami and feed her healing energy until one of us returns?”
“Of course. Has there been any change?”
“No. Get some blood in you first to strengthen you.”
“Do you want me to bring some for you and David?”
“I’ll take some,” David said.
“None for me, thanks,” Seth refused.
Several minutes later, Seth and David strode into the study.
David looked as he always did, but walked with slower steps and bore an air of fatigue.
Seth . . . looked like shit. His shoulders slumped with exhaustion. Dark circles had once more found a home beneath his eyes. Lines of strain bracketed his mouth. His skin bore a sickly pallor. His cheeks seemed hollower.
“Zach,” Seth greeted him. He even sounded tired.
“How long do you intend to keep this up?” Zach asked. Unlike David’s, Seth’s strength and energy couldn’t be restored with a simple blood infusion.
“As long as I can.” Seth sank into the chair beside him.
Sighing, Zach held out his hand. “Give me your phone.”
“I’m fine.”
“Bullshit. You’re expending energy like there’s no tomorrow. Teleporting all over creation to rescue your precious Immortal Guardians on top of that will totally deplete you.”
David paused beside Seth’s chair and rested a hand on Seth’s chest.
Seth gasped and gripped the arms of his chair. The lines in his face smoothed out. The dark circles vanished. Color returned, not quite healthy, but certainly healthier.
Relaxing once more, Seth stared up at David. “I didn’t know you could do that.”
David shrugged and patted Seth’s shoulder. “Neither did I. I really didn’t expect it to work.” He started around the desk and staggered.
Seth jumped up and gripped David’s arm to steady him. “Darnell.”
“I’m on it.” Darnell hurried from the room.
Zach watched Seth guide David to the comfortably worn chair behind the desk.
David boasted more power than Zach had realized if he could replenish so much of Seth’s energy that soon after losing his own and needing blood.
Darnell rushed back into the room, bearing bags of blood he piled on David’s desk.
Chris entered on his heels, a battered-all-to-hell leather briefcase in one hand and a cooler in the other. He frowned when he saw David sink his fangs into a bag of blood. “Everything okay?”
Seth nodded. “What’s in the cooler?”
Chris set the cooler on the desk and opened the top. Zach and the others leaned forward to peer inside.
Lined up in neat rows were over a dozen plastic bags, each roughly the size of a soda can, full of white liquid.
“What’s that?” Darnell asked.
“Breast milk,” Chris replied.
Seth’s eyebrows rose. “Whose breast milk?”
“Jasmine Harris donated it. She works in medical at the network.”
All stared at him.
“And she just happened to have some breast milk on hand?” Zach asked.
“Of course not. A couple of months ago I consulted her about newborn babies’ needs. She’s a doctor and a mother, so I figured she would know best. Turns out she’s still breastfeeding her toddler. I like to prepare for every possibility. So I asked her if she would be willing to donate some milk. She said yes without even asking for whom. So”—he waved a hand over the cooler—“voilà. And there’s more where that came from, should you need it.”
Zach looked at Seth. “He really does think of everything.”
Seth nodded.
Chris turned to the door. “Linda?”
Linda, a friend of Melanie’s and another doctor from the network, poked her head in. “Yes?”
“Would you please put this in the fridge?”
Smiling, she entered.
The men all smiled and nodded to her as she took the cooler from Chris.
After she left, Chris leaned forward and lowered his voice. “I knew Melanie and Dr. Kimiko were probably resting and assumed you guys wouldn’t feel comfortable helping Marcus get the baby to latch on every two or three hours when it’s time to feed her.”
Didn’t babies just latch on naturally? Zach thought, then blinked. Wait. Newborns fed every two or three hours? “If you’re going to bottle feed her, why do you need Linda?”
“Dr. Harris suggested we let the baby nurse for a bit first, then bottle feed her the milk. Something about avoiding nipple confusion, whatever the hell that is, and reducing the chances of the baby refusing to breastfeed later when Ami’s milk comes in?” Chris said, phrasing it as a question, as if he were as clueless as the rest of them.
Only Seth seemed to know what it all meant.
“Any luck tracking the vampire?” David asked.
“Some. He’s holed up with nine others in a house outside of Pittsboro. One that’s too small to be the main lair.”
“Are you sure there aren’t extensive tunnels beneath it like Bastien’s?” Seth asked.
“Yeah. I had one of my contacts do a satellite thermal-imaging scan. There were only ten men, all with the cooler body temperatures of a vampire, so we’re waiting to see if they’ll lead us to the lair once the sun sets.”
Zach frowned. “Won’t they find the tracking device in the meantime?”
“It’s a risk we’ll have to take,” Seth murmured. “Their minds will yield no information. And moving in now and killing them will net us nothing.”
Nevertheless, it didn’t sit well with Zach.
“Was that why you wanted to see us?” Seth asked Chris.
“No. I need to show you something. Darnell, can I use your laptop?”
Darnell opened a laptop on the corner of David’s desk and, moving some medical texts aside, slid it toward the center.
Chris circled the desk and stood beside David. Pulling a small metal device from his briefcase, he connected it to the computer and began dragging his finger across the smooth touchpad on the keyboard.
Seth waved Zach forward.
Zach joined them behind the desk.
David sat up straighter as the blood went to work restoring his strength.
The image on the computer screen changed from a tranquil Zen garden to what appeared to be a hallway in network headquarters. Zach had visited the network several times during his stint as “Temporary Seth” and recognized it as the fifth sublevel.
Chris straightened. “I’ve been pouring over surveillance video, wanting to see if Cliff ventured anywhere else he shouldn’t have while he was off swiping the tracking devices.”
“Did he?” Seth asked.
“No. Here’s the video, in slow motion, taken from every camera he passed on his foray.” He pressed a button on the keyboard.
Zach watched the blurry, indistinct form (which moved too quickly for the camera to catch clearly) zip from the fifth sublevel up to the room the tracking devices were stored in on the fourth floor. Once the vampire pocketed the devices, he raced back to the fifth sublevel, making no other stops.
Chris pressed a key and paused the video just as a shot of the lobby appeared. “I wanted to make sure he didn’t make any other excursions later on, so I kept looking and found this.” He pressed the key again, restarting the video.
The lobby was decorated in shades of gray, the only color provided by potted peace lilies. The central focus of the camera was a large granite-topped security desk. Half a dozen guards sat behind it, their eyes fastened to monitors hidden from view. A few yards beyond them, over a dozen more guarded elevator doors.
A tall figure, garbed in a long black coat, suddenly appeared in front of the security desk.
The men behind it jumped and reached for their weapons.
Before they could draw them, the figure waved a hand.
The guards’ expressions went blank. They retook their seats, their posture relaxed.
One of the guards nodded and spoke to the figure.
“The cameras don’t record audio,” Chris mentioned apologetically.
The dark figure strolled over to one of the elevators. The guards there didn’t appear to see him.
The doors slid open. The figure stepped inside.
The scene cut to surveillance footage of the elevator.
The figure kept his head turned away from the camera. Bearing the dark hair, height, and build common among immortal males, this man could have been any of them.
The video cut from scene to scene, following the mysterious figure to a room full of file cabinets.
“He stayed in the records room for the longest,” Chris said, “always keeping his face turned away from the camera.” The video sped up, showing the immortal pulling out this drawer or that and removing file folders.
Seth leaned forward and planted his hands on David’s desk. “He isn’t even trying to hide his presence. If he were, he would be doing all of this at preternatural speeds to avoid being videotaped or having it show up on the security monitors.”
“He didn’t have to,” Chris said. “None of the guards have any recollection of encountering him. None saw anything unusual on the surveillance cameras. So none of us would have ever looked at this footage twice if Cliff hadn’t stolen the tracking devices.”
Zach caught Seth’s eye. “Mind control? Memory wipes?”
“Had to be either one or the other.”
The figure returned to the first floor and traveled down a hallway Zach hadn’t seen before, all of Zach’s visits having taken him below. The figure waved a hand, bypassing security locks each time he encountered them, and ultimately entered a swanky, modern office.
“Where is he now?” Zach asked.
“My office,” Chris said, his jaw clenching. “He must have known where all of the other cameras were located by reading the guards’ minds because he missed a couple here. There are hidden cameras in my office that only I know about.”
The immortal crossed to a row of tall file cabinets that lined one wall and began to draw out files. Upon finding whatever he sought, he turned and leaned a shoulder against the cabinets while he perused the papers.
Whatever camera Chris had hidden caught a perfect image of the immortal’s face.
“Aidan,” Seth said.
David swore.
Chris eyed them with sympathy. “Looks like we’ve found your traitor.”
“I don’t understand,” Seth muttered. “All this because I wouldn’t transfer him to North Carolina? I know I told Lisette it was possible, but . . .”
Brooding silence.
“You already knew he was hiding something from you,” Zach mentioned.
“Lisette was hiding something from me, too, and look how badly I misjudged her.” Seth straightened. “I don’t want to make the same mistake twice.” He looked at Zach. “Or thrice. I misjudged you, as well.”
Zach snorted. “I don’t count. Even I would have suspected me.”
“I sure as hell did,” David added.
Seth shook his head. “Aidan is damned near as even-tempered as David. It just seems out of character for him to . . . to do something so heinous.”
Chris motioned to the laptop. “The proof is indisputable. If memory wipes damage brains, he just damaged the brains of several of my men to keep them from remembering his little visit.” And Chris was pissed.
“If Aidan feels I’ve wronged him,” Seth demanded, “why not come after me? Why endanger all Immortal Guardians by raising this vampire army?”
“Because he knows your weakness,” David murmured. “We all know your weakness.”
Seth turned to him.
David’s expression gentled. “Everyone knows the surest way to hurt you is to harm one of your Immortal Guardians.”
“One of my Immortal Guardians. This threatens you all. This threatens humans, as well. If vampires were to gain the upper hand . . .”
He didn’t have to finish.
“Has any immortal ever gone crazy from too much solitude?” Chris asked.
Seth shook his head. “Never. One of the reasons I started assigning Seconds to immortals in the first place, aside from knowing they needed someone to guard them and take care of business for them during daylight hours, was to keep immortals from leading too solitary an existence. I wanted them to have friends and companions to help keep the loneliness at bay.”
Roland spoke in the infirmary. “I went hundreds of years without having a Second, and I didn’t go crazy.” He must have been listening. “But there’s a big difference between insanity and bitterness. Bitterness can spawn a madness all its own . . . as you well know, Seth, having walked me back from that edge a few times over the centuries.”
Seth closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Zach.”
“What?”
“Can you capture Aidan and incarcerate him at network headquarters?”
“Yes.”
“On your own?”
“Yes.”
“Without killing him?”
“If I must.”
“Then do it. If I did it myself and he were to fight me . . .” He sighed. “I don’t have as much control over my powers when I’m this weary and don’t want to inadvertently kill him before I can interrogate him.”
Zach wasn’t nearly as tired as Seth and suspected he would have a hard time reining himself in, too. He wanted the bastard dead in the worst way now that he knew Aidan was guilty. He turned to Chris. “Can you do anything to prevent Aidan from freeing himself by using mind control on the guards and getting them to unlock his prison door once he’s in custody at the network?”
“Yes,” Chris responded. “Teleport me there now and give me a couple of hours. I’ll have my guys weld the door of one of the holding rooms closed so the guards won’t be able to free him even if they want to.”
“What’s to keep him from teleporting out?” Zach asked.
Chris swore. “Can you sedate him when you capture him?”
“Yes.”
Seth spoke up. “Use the same dosage the new vampires used on Lisette. Even as old as he is, it should knock him out for a day or two. Have Melanie prepare an auto-injector for you before you leave.”
“I’ll do it now,” Zach said.
“No, let her rest a little longer. Chris needs the extra time to weld the door shut anyway. And chain Aidan with the strongest chains available. If he should awaken earlier than we expect and is chained, he won’t be able to teleport without taking the whole damned building with him.”
“Oh, I’ll chain him.” Dark anticipation rose within Zach. “Trust me. He won’t escape. As soon as Chris calls me and lets me know they’re ready for him, I’ll bring his ass in.”
“Don’t kill him,” Seth reiterated.
“I won’t,” Zach promised.
He never said he wouldn’t hurt him.