More than Truth (Arcane Crossbreeds) (7 page)

Vin turned and walked slowly back through the lab, inspecting it with a more precise eye. The far wall was dark but glossy with a mirrored surface. Obviously masking an observation deck. Casting a considering glance at the cameras on the ceiling, he circled the lab counter and approached that wall. A stool was turned over on the floor. He crouched down and laid his hand on a cool metal rung, glaring up at that glossy wall.

She’d been forcefully removed from the room.

“Where is she?” Vin demanded coolly, his gaze focused on that wall. They’d escorted him straight to this room, and he knew he was being watched.
Someone
was watching him.

There was a muted click, and the wall flooded with light, offering a clear view into an adjacent lab that sat several feet higher. A man stood in that room, draped in a white lab coat, arms crossed over his chest. The eyes behind the silver rims of his glasses were dark and small as he stared down his nose at Vin. They were beady, soulless. His thin, frayed hair was pulled back and held at the nape of his neck. A pleased, oily smile curved his tiny mouth.

Vin was grateful the thick wall separated them so he was spared a deeper appraisal of the man. Sometimes being a strong telepath was…unsettling.

“Dr. Vincent Jennings,” The man’s voice was reedy, weak. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve studied much of your work. Brilliant if still a bit obstructed by morality.”

That was telling.

“Where is Dr. Mahoney?” Vin asked calmly, ignoring the praise.

The man’s smile held firm, those tiny black eyes fixed on Vin. “My name is Dr. Anthony Rupple. I was only just informed I was to expect you, but am thrilled to have you join me here. I think together the three of us could push this research to the next level.”

Vin rose to his feet, the stool clutched in his hand. The greasy doctor stepped back from the glass, and Vin savored the satisfaction he felt from the reaction. With a slight smile of his own, he carefully righted the stool and sat on the edge. He extended his long legs and crossed them at the ankles, hands carefully folded in his lap. He didn’t want to appear too aggressive.

“I’ve yet to hear what I want, Dr. Rupple.”

The man frowned and folded his arms over his scrawny chest again. “Dr. Mahoney was being very unreasonable. I thought perhaps a couple of nights in less comfortable accommodations would change her outlook. She wasn’t seriously injured.”

Dr. Rupple’s hesitation over the last word did not sit well with Vin. “I want her returned immediately, Dr. Rupple. I myself can become very…unreasonable.”

Dr. Rupple angled his chin up but gave a terse nod. “Of course, Dr. Jennings.” He looked off to his right and spoke to someone Vin couldn’t see. “I apologize for the limited quarters, but we were equipped with only one lab that could accommodate the necessary security measures. You shall have to share with Dr. Mahoney. I hope that will not be a problem.”

Vin narrowed his focus to a sharp point on the doctor. That last bit betrayed an almost indistinguishable trace of sarcasm. Over ten years ago, he’d tipped his hand where Dr. Mahoney was concerned. It didn’t take a high level of deductive skills to know that the redheaded doctor made him vulnerable. He
had
traded his freedom and integrity when he’d made the deal for her release. It wasn’t too much of a leap to expect this doctor would know of it. Especially if he worked for the Triumvirate.

When it was obvious Vin had no intention of responding, Dr. Rupple continued on, a smirk playing on his thin lips. “I will, of course, see that you are provided with fresh clothes and other personal items. As for your…unique needs, please let me know when your need for solar radiation becomes pressing. We will do our best to assist you.”

“I will need to review the files for your current project to bring myself up to speed,” Vin stated coldly. He wasn’t exactly sure what kind of research Dr. Rupple was conducting at this facility, but the pathetic doctor seemed to think Vin was there to assist him. Although Vin’s main objective was to have Dr. Mahoney with him so he could protect her during the attack, he was curious to discover what exactly was being done here.

Dr. Rupple nodded. “Of course, all the files you need access to are on the lab computers.”

Vin had already noted the location of the monitors, so he kept his attention on the greasy doctor. Even though Vin was several feet below and locked in a secure room, Rupple appeared to be intimidated by him. He wanted to keep the doctor pinned down. Whether it stemmed from the doctor’s assessment of his research or the doctor’s awareness of what he was physically capable of, he wasn’t sure. All Vin knew was he needed to maintain that without pushing the man into outright fear, which might motivate Rupple into more extreme measures of security. A very thin line to walk. Fortunately, Vin was very well practiced.

Twenty years of practice.

“As Dr. Mahoney is aware,” Dr. Rupple began as he paced in front of the window, “we are in the midst of some exciting research. For the past several years, I’ve been collecting…unique subjects for a very special project. The objective has been to introduce a specific genetic sequence which has thus far proved more difficult than was initially assumed, I’m afraid.”

Dr. Rupple picked up a stack of papers and frowned down at them before casting them back onto the table with a disgusted shake of his head. “You and Dr. Mahoney are going to change that.”

Vin carefully controlled his reaction. Genetic manipulation. He shouldn’t be surprised. This facility was run indirectly by the Triumvirate, and there was only one goal those bitches had concerning genetics: infecting the few remaining unaffected Arcane with their corrosive blood magic. The Triumvirate had cast the magic five hundred years ago, and it somehow became inheritable, allowing them to continue to siphon off future generation. It was why they needed Dr. Mahoney. She was the first to identify the gene that caused the blood-magic phenomena—the ARSA gene. Thus the ARSA Project was created, but like most brilliant scientists, she was unprepared for the ramification of her discovery.

“Perhaps you can better persuade Dr. Mahoney to participate in this project.” Dr. Rupple’s face dissolved into an ugly expression of hatred and determination. “She’s the only one who could possibly have the information we need to move forward, and she’s willfully withholding that information.”

Vin nodded in a mimicry of agreement as he considered what Dr. Rupple revealed. Dr. Mahoney might have discovered the gene, but ten years ago she’d refused to synthesize it. As part of the agreement to release her, he’d picked up where she’d left off. He’d been able to synthesize the gene as well as administer it, but he’d been unable to activate it.

Despite his failures, he had learned a lot about the ARSA gene itself. Over the last several generations, the gene had mutated, somehow affecting other healthy genes. Those who inherited the ARSA gene suffered from a lack of longevity, decreased sensory and motor skills, and in many cases the advent of disabling and often life-threatening genetic diseases. How many labs outside of the one he’d been held in knew about the gene—or worse—were working on it? How much progress had they made that he was unaware of?

It couldn’t be too much if they’d reacquired Dr. Mahoney to work on it. She’d spent the past ten years working at Incog as their premier doctor for the crossbreed agents. What could she possibly have had access to that would prove valuable to this research?

“Ah, here comes our stubborn doctor now,” Dr. Rupple said slowly.

The dull click of the locks disengaging on Vin’s door drew his attention, but the razor-sharp glint in Dr. Rupple’s eyes made him pause and carefully tuck away the potent anticipation that spiked through his system. The doctor was too keen on his reaction, and Vin thought perhaps he had underestimated the man. He’d been too eager to disregard Dr. Rupple’s threat, but Vin now suspected the man was manipulating him. He held the doctor’s intent gaze as the door hissed open behind him, and the muffled sounds of someone being shoved inside filled the space.

Vin’s heart slammed against his ribs as he greedily collected each sound she made and covertly searched for the scent of her. When a draft of air swirled toward him from the closing of the steel door, it was ripe with her, and he had to control his response as he took in that first fragrant breath. It was the hardest thing he had ever done—that included the day he’d handed her bleeding, unconscious body off to another man to protect. Inside, his dragon came to roaring life, the fiery essence of it burning down his arm. He resisted the urge to rub the tattoo on his arm as the smell of blood tainted her sweet scent. She was bleeding, and his dragon wanted to retaliate for the injury.

A small smile twisted the doctor’s thin lips as he carefully scrutinized Vin with those soulless eyes. The man knew what Vin’s reaction would be, had been discreetly cultivating it from the moment he walked into this room. Why?

It was a question that bore investigating further, but for now he needed to carefully navigate this situation in a way that would prevent the doctor from gaining any advantage in whatever game he was playing. Vin girded himself with a slow breath and turned around to give Dr. Britony Mahoney an impassive but thorough study.

An unintelligible tangle of emotion slammed in his chest. He’d expected a strong reaction but was unprepared for the onslaught that hit him.

She was here. After all this time, she was a mere twenty feet away on her hands and knees, shoulders rising and falling with each breath. There was a tear in her wrinkled blouse near the shoulder, and her face was concealed by the fall of hair that was a darker red than he remembered. Although he couldn’t discern an injury, he could smell it. Anger suffused him as he moved his gaze over the defeated lines of her body. What had they done to her? At a mere sixteen years old, she’d been a force of nature, pale blue eyes alive and electric. Now she appeared beaten.

Blood pounded in his temples and behind his eyes as his dragon arched and swelled inside him. Magma slithered through every line and curve of the tattoo that marked his arm as he restrained his dragon.

“How do you feel now, Dr. Mahoney?” Dr. Rupple’s nasal voice rang through the room, ripe with satisfaction, but his gaze was fixed on Vin. “A little more agreeable to my demands, I hope.”

Dr. Mahoney raised her chin. Narrowed eyes peered through long ropes of red hair. She blinked rapidly and touched her tongue to the corner of her mouth. Vin could just see the pale angles of her face, one cheek swollen and colored with a dark bruise, her bottom lip split open. Blood marred her pale skin.

“That depends, Dr. Rupple,” she rasped harshly. “Are you more agreeable to my demands?”

Vin almost smiled, but Dr. Rupple’s next words had his dragon stirring once again.

“You may want to rethink your demands, Dr. Mahoney, because I’ve been authorized to use any means short of causing your death to obtain your assistance with this. I’m sure you’re intelligent enough to recognize that could be a very fine and excruciating line to walk.”

Chapter Six

“Perhaps you should allow me to intervene before this situation deteriorates further.”

Brit jerked her head, turning away from the spear of light that assaulted her sensitive eyes. The deep voice that resonated just a few feet in front of her belonged to a man who looked like—no certainly that wasn’t possible. Tag Jennings was at Incog. This man couldn’t possibly be him. No, he…
felt
different to her. Shock created a solid wall, holding her reaction captive as the thoughts surged and pressed against the barrier. This man looked so much like Tag, yet she
knew
it wasn’t him.

Brit watched the man advance on her, his stride long and confident. Her arms were starting to shake from the strain of holding herself up, and she gritted her teeth against the ravenous exhaustion that made her want to just lie down on the floor. The man crouched down in front of her and swept her hair aside with one massive hand to peer at her face. She would have stared him down, but she was fresh out of bravado and so she flinched instead. The guards had tossed her around a bit before dragging her from “the hole,” and she felt every inch of her skin, particularly the parts where they had kicked her.

His big body blocked the harsher elements of the overhead lights, but she still had to blink several times to focus on his broad face. Like Tag, his skin was dark cream-laden coffee—her favorite. Those eyes were bright by comparison, a rusty green and brown shadowed by heavy brows. Unlike Tag, he had a thick head of silky black curls.

“Ah, love,” he rumbled, his voice low and rich. “What have they done to you?”

“A disagreement,” Brit said and closed her eyes. She was tired and cold and as brittle as an autumn leaf. Even worse, she was vulnerable, and he looked so much like Tag it was painful.

“That is because we’re brothers.”

Brit jerked her head back and stared up at him, her heart beating fast. He’d read her thoughts? She studied him suspiciously. Tag had never mentioned having a brother, but it wasn’t as though they’d spoken much about family or anything of a personal nature at all. And this man definitely looked enough like him.

“We’ve been estranged for a number of years, love.”
He reached out to touch her bruised cheek with the tip of his finger. A frown deepened the crease between his eyes, but his voice was gentle in her mind.
“But I’m here now. He’s sent me ahead to protect you until your Incog arrives.”

Brit tried to swallow, but her throat was dry and raw, her tongue thick in her mouth. She was dehydrated, and she thought maybe one of her ribs might be cracked.

“Can you trust me enough to care for you? Just until reinforcements arrive? You shouldn’t have to be here alone.”

What choice did she have? She didn’t think she’d be able to make it to the suite on her own steam without crawling, and the idea of Dr. Rupple getting to see that truly galled her. Besides, this man’s scent was already enfolding her, eroding her paltry defenses. It was warm and spicy, so much like Tag’s and yet somehow different. With a sigh, Brit nodded.