More than Truth (Arcane Crossbreeds) (31 page)

“Dr. Jennings,” Forestor finally began, and Vin would swear there was a small tick of humor riding the dark aura that surrounded the man. “I’ve spoken at length with your father and brother, two men for whom I harbor great respect. I believe I understand how you found yourself in the employ of the Triumvirate prior to your rather messy departure from their Dublin labs—your need to protect your mate. However, what remains unclear is why you have made contact with the Triumvirate on two separate occasions and met with an agent of the Triumvirate. This
after
Dr. Mahoney was secured back at Incog.”

How much could Vin reveal? Could he trust Kyeros Forestor?

Vin held motionless in his chair as he considered what he knew of the man before him. The Forestors were the most powerful line of Guardians, whose sacred job was to protect the Matriarch, the revered leader of the entire Arcane. A task no Forestor in the known history of the Arcane ever failed at, which was why he found it curious that Kyeros’s father had been executed some thirty years ago by order of the Triumvirate for his supposed attempt to assassinate the Matriarch. It was that very night that an adolescent Kyeros had been exiled from his clan and made a rogue, a fate worse than death for those who belonged in the few honorable clans of Guardians.

That certainly could mean Kyeros Forestor had developed a deep hatred for the Triumvirate. However, did it also mean the man could be trusted with the knowledge that there were individuals who held positions of trust with the Triumvirate, those who plotted to end the unnatural reign of the ancient witches?

“Forestor can be trusted, bro. He’s used a shit ton of his resources trying to fix the damage those crazy bitches have caused for the Arcane.”

Vin’s father weighed in.
“In the millennia that the Drakes have kept vigil, never has a Forestor failed at the job given to him. Kyeros’s grandfather spoke against the Arcane entering into a blood-magic pact with the Triumvirate all those years ago. If there is anyone to be trusted in these times, it is a Forestor.”

Vin held Forestor’s gaze, not betraying the telepathic council he was receiving from his father and brother. Tag had spent the better part of two decades working for the man, and his father was a Drake, an order of Drachon that not only led his species but had served as a witness for the history of all Arcane.

“I agree to disclose what I know,” Vin conceded, leaning back in his chair.

Forestor appraised him. The man had surprising knowledge of the dangerous currents that swirled beneath the Arcane, but Vin didn’t think the man knew of the Trust. Of course, Forestor likely suspected something of the kind existed, but his connections didn’t have the intel to substantiate his suspicions.

Vin did.

“Provided what you know has worth,” Forestor qualified.

Vin allowed a small smile. “What, or rather, who I know has depths which you have not yet been able to reach.”

Forestor’s dark eyes narrowed with calculation. Although his thoughts were obscured behind the shadowy aura of power that surrounded him, Vin could sense a spike of interest in the man. “What are your conditions?”

“For starters,” Vin began, ignoring Forester’s arched brow, “Dr. Britony Mahoney is to be allowed sanctuary here indefinitely.”

Forestor nodded. “That’s reasonable.”

“It’s more than reasonable; it’s paramount.” Kahn finally spoke up. “It’s been prophesized she will save the Drachon from extinction as well as find a cure for the blood magic. That’s something we all have interest in protecting.”

Vin felt his brother’s shock resonate through him to join his own. All their lives they’d been advised that they were the salvation of their species. His surprise settled into satisfaction as he realized what his grandfather had truly meant all those years ago.

Tag pushed away from the wall. “Then what was all that bullshit we were fed as kids?”

Kahn angled his head down to glare at his son through his thick brows. “You were told you would
bring
salvation to our people, not that you would
be
the salvation. Your egos fed you the true ‘bullshit.’”

A slow smile curved Tag’s lips. “So the doc is the almighty harbinger of salvation.” He leaned back against the wall with a self-satisfied nod. “I can live with that.”

“I’m relieved,” Kahn drew out drily.

Brit had sacrificed so much to bring them hope. She selflessly helped those who worked at Incog, yet they kept her at a distance. “And I want Tag to have permission to remove the tracking bracelet.” A frown weighed heavy over Vin’s eyebrows. Brit often touched the device around her wrist, and he could feel her upset at the necessity of it. It made her feel even further removed from those around her she considered family. “It hurts her feelings.”

Vin ignored his father’s smile and turned to greet Tag’s deep scowl when he mentally blasted,
“She’s just irritated by the inconvenience!”

“You need to work on your understanding of our mate’s feelings.”

“Fuck you,” Tag sniped and then had the decency to look chagrined. “Besides, I was given permission to remove it days ago. I figured we needed all the advantage we can get trying to keep her safe.”

“Taggart, have we not talked about the importance of trust in a relationship?” Kahn said in exasperation.

Forestor watched Vin during the banter between Kahn and Tag. Waiting.

Vin returned his stare. This last request would be the most difficult for the Guardian to accomplish.

“Before I continue on, you will need to eliminate the leak in your organization.”

Forestor didn’t betray his interest with so much as a twitch, but his sudden stillness was telling. “And why do you suspect a leak?”

“My…resource related that the Rebels have become more organized. He suggested that they were responsible for several women being held at the labs, including Dr. Mahoney’s sister, to have disappeared right at the moment of your attack on the facility. That indicates prior knowledge of the exact timing of the attack.”

“And did your
resource
tell what the Rebels wanted with these women?” Forestor asked.

“That I’m not sure of. However, I have every faith that if it’s related to the ARSA project, my mate will figure it out.” There was a tremendous amount of satisfaction calling Brit his mate.

There was a sharp knock, and the door swung open. Raife stepped inside and quickly cast a glance over the room. He settled it on Forestor. “Kat would like you to see something.” He looked at Tag. “Where’s the doc?”

Tag lurched forward from the wall. “She’s in the lab with Reice and his little fledglings, why?”

Kahn sighed. “And your mother, so it seems. The woman never stays where I put her.”

Vin felt everything still inside him for a moment. He hadn’t seen his mother in twenty years. “Mom is here?”

A little curve lifted his father’s lips. “She thought she was being sneaky, but Brim notified me the minute she left the nest. She couldn’t wait to see you or meet your doctor. Reice will watch out for them.”

Raife didn’t smile. “Good, then I think you all will want to see this.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Science bridged the distance from what was hypothesized to what was proven, filling every inch of space in between with meticulous data from test after test. Brit understood this, respected it, but for the first time…she resented it. She knew Vin was responsible for the creation and premature testing of the ARSA-2 gene, and she understood why he’d done it. Theoretically. Yet actually reading the data was like hearing all of his observations spoken in her mind in that familiar deep voice.

She could feel his helpless anticipation with each discovery and his self-disgust at his own excitement. With each experiment on each faceless victim, he reviled and congratulated himself. As she reviewed his notes, they practically resonated with line after line of contradicting emotions until toward the end, he felt devoid of humanity. His resignation at what he had become, what he had done echoed in his final observations. In the end, he felt as though he deserved his fate.

Brit anticipated feeling anger or resentment at being faced with the tangible evidence of what he’d done. Yet this person he believed himself to be, someone without conscience or remorse, was all wrong. It was…abhorrent. That was not what she felt when she was with him. When he touched her, he was tender and reverent as though he was trying to soak up every moment for fear she would disappear. He’d opened himself to her, risking his guilt to assuage her own, to offer her comfort. That was not a man who lacked humanity.

Brit leaned back on the sofa in her office, where she’d retreated from the eyes of the others using her lab, and stared up at the tiled ceiling as she struggled to process her emotions. She’d wanted privacy to read through Vin’s findings, fearful of her reaction to what she might find. The other Drachon in her lab knew she was reviewing Vin’s research, so any negative response to it on her part would reflect back on him. He valued his privacy much more than Tag, who rarely cared what others thought. Although Vin would remain stoic, he was vulnerable in a way Tag rarely was, less sure of his own worth.

And damn it to bloody hell, Brit was driven to protect him. It made her flesh crawl to think of him vulnerable and hurting. She depended on him to be strong and persistent—to not give up on her.

Surging to her feet to pace across the confines of her office, Brit impatiently pushed loose tendrils of hair behind her ear. Objectivity was a luxury of the past. Regardless of her attempts to remain apart from the Jennings men while she sorted through this current mess, she was helpless against their influence on her decision process. Every choice any of them made was irrefutably connected to the others because they were each entangled in the same web. If she were honest with herself, she would admit it had been that way for most of her life. And it would always be that way from now on.

Brit spun and stomped back across the room, frustration humming through her every fiber. Once again the guilt assailed her.

If only she hadn’t begged her parents to allow her to go to the Dublin labs all those years ago. If she hadn’t been so driven to understand and disassemble every aspect of life. She would never have discovered the ARSA gene, and her path would not have crossed Vin’s, forcing him to make horrible decisions to protect her. Her parents would still be alive, and Meghann would be safe somewhere. All these innocent people would never have been infected with genetic material just waiting for the right catalyst to destroy them. It all began with her. She was responsible for it.

Brit stopped in front of her desk and slapped her palms down on the desktop, sightlessly staring at the neat piles of books. Reason shifted and rose through her turmoil.

If she hadn’t done what she had, then Tag would never have been reunited with his brother, and that emptiness she’d always sensed in him would have continued to drag him in. The guys were healing wounds left raw for too long. They’d mated. They would live long enough to repair all the damage they’d caused. Brit pressed one palm to her belly. Even now the essence of the life that grew there echoed through her. A daughter. She somehow knew it. This would bring hope for so many. She was responsible for that too.

So much information swam in her head, and she worried about everything that she was still responsible for. For Katya’s health, for Meghann’s life, for the future of so many. What if she made the same mistakes?

Years ago, when she’d made the horrible realization she’d endangered so many, her stepfather had grabbed her by her shoulders and stared deep in her eyes. He’d told her knowledge was only as destructive as the person who wielded it. Even then he was telling her he had faith in her, that he believed she would do the right thing. She just needed a little faith in herself.

Brit squared her shoulders and wiped at the tears she hadn’t realized she was crying. Right now
she
had possession of the knowledge, and she would be damned if she allowed any of it to destroy anything. The Triumvirate may have magic, but she had science and those bloody bitches would never be able to turn their magic into science. She, however, could make her science perform magic.

Determination rippled through her body, and she felt a new strength follow in its wake.

“Well, hello, Doctor.”

“Not now, Taggart.”
Brit started at the foreign sensation of her voice winging through her mind into Tag’s. Telepathy.

“It’s about damn time, baby. That brain of yours is your best and worst ability.”

She’d exerted so much energy fighting herself and them that she hadn’t even come close to accessing her true potential. Now she could feel the strength crackling like electricity beneath her flesh, infusing her every cell. The images she stored in her memory for so long sharpened in her mind, and she felt the urge to delve into them.

“Don’t let me stop you, baby. Get to work. I’m just going to watch my idiot brother and Forestor continue with their damn pissing contest.”

Tag retreated from her mind, but she could feel him just beyond the surface. He was there if she needed him, and she was comforted as she explored the data she’d preserved. She’d start from the beginning when she’d first identified the ARSA gene, carefully disassembling the DNA profiles of each infected member of the Arcane she’d ever examined.

It startled her how much stronger her mind was. It was like learning to use a new, more efficient piece of equipment. Before, she could easily draw forth the image in her head, focusing in and reading the documents as though it sat before her on her desk. Now the understanding of the information was there in her consciousness without having to read it again. Her thoughts flowed easily through her as though the process of translation was no longer needed.

Now there were currents of information coursing through her in organized streams, bright and alive. She studied them, analyzing each particle of information. There was something here. She halted the flow of files and drew it in for a closer inspection. There was a genetic difference between those who naturally possessed the ARSA gene and those who didn’t. Some of those whose DNA lacked the ARSA marker had another marker in its location along the DNA strand. A genetic marker that none of the ARSA carriers possessed.