Hunger's Mate (36 page)

“This specific DNA has traces of unpurified damiana, which combined with the DNA of its parents, has created a process of re-creating the drug in the host body.” Ezra swallowed before continuing once more. “If they get their hands on this DNA, the damiana effects will be the least of our worries.” Ezra finished with his hands planted flat on the table, his shoulder throbbing but his words clear.

“How the hell did they get their hands on damiana from the Sierra Leone?” Bas asked. “And where are they keeping it? Because it wasn't in the lab.”

“If we can at least find their stash, that's one less ingredient they'll have,” Syfon spoke up.

Ezra shook his head. “That has to happen on this end. On your end, Rome, you need to get to Nick and Ary and tell them that Shya might be in danger.”

“What?” Rome asked, that single word sending an icy chill of silence through the room.

Ezra's jaw clenched as he prepared to say words he hadn't wanted to admit to himself. He'd hoped that Rome would pick them up as well, but realized the Leader was under a lot of stress at the moment. Still, Ezra couldn't ignore that all the clues lined up: Shya's mysterious illness was really an exacerbation of traits she already held—colic, a baby's crankiness from teething, the magnified fever—all enhanced by the damiana. Dr. Papplin admitting to Nick and Ary that he'd sent Shya's blood sample to a friend because he'd seen something strange when she was born, their final realization that Shya had been infected by the damiana that crazy-ass Sabar had injected her mother with in the Gungi, and now a new form of this drug being used to create a shifter hybrid. Although he hated the reality, the threat was imminent.

“Shya's DNA may be what they're looking for. That may be why the DiLaurents were in contact with each other. Just tell them to keep her safe until I get back and can question this second DiLaurent myself.”

“Fuck!” Rome yelled, and there was silence again.

Roman Reynolds never yelled. Sure, he cursed and would cut anyone who tried to cross him off quickly at the knees. But he was a leader and he ruled with composure and finesse. Much like Bas, the Leader of the shifters possessed an eerie amount of control and tonight, or rather early this morning, it was being tested.

“I want that goddammned man and I want his stash of this fuckin' drug and I want this shit over with, now!” The Assembly Leader roared into the phone, the echo of his cat's presence resonating through the phone connection.

The next sound they heard was a dial tone, and then, her voice.

“I know where Larry is keeping that drug,” Jewel said from where she stood in the open doorway.

 

Chapter 25

Washington, D.C.

Lilah brushed her teeth for what felt like the millionth time. She spit in the sink, rinsed her mouth, and spit again. Then she switched off the water, lifting her head until she could see her face in the mirror. She paused, blinking once, then twice, then realizing she didn't like what she saw.

The same summer-blue eyes and straight-to-the-point-of-annoying brunette hair, strands of which stuck to a little toothpaste on her cheek. Hurriedly she wiped that off, slicking her wet hands down over her hair and then blinked at the mirror again.

She'd had to do it, she reminded herself silently, her lips thinning as if she hated the confession. But really, what had been her other options? Life was hard enough without the added trauma of growing up an orphan, and getting caught on her first official drug run. She was a high school graduate and all her counselors at school had told her that she'd done well to stick it out all four years and get that nice crisp white sheet of paper that stood for achievement. Hell, the bald-headed Mr. Gleason, assistant principal of the goddamned year had shook her hand and wished her good luck, telling her and every one of the other three hundred graduates that the sky was the limit. Only Lilah had fallen flat on her face just six short months after that fateful day.

And Larry Crowe had been the one to pick her up. For the last three years he'd paid for her classes at the community college, seeming genuinely excited about her goals to study chemistry. Of course, he was even more excited by her ability to deep throat him until he came approximately fifty-three seconds later, anytime and anywhere. That little skill and the fact that she knew how to be seen and not heard—mostly when she was around him—had earned her a limitless credit card, a nicely equipped Acura, and the cute little log cabin in Grand Canyon Village.

It was a good life. Better than any she'd ever imagined for herself. Except for times like this. Every now and then Larry would ask her to do special favors. Making the sex tape, letting him do her and another woman at the same time, she would soon learn were just the beginning. But in the last year he'd let her work in the lab with Dr. DiLaurent on a highly secretive project. She'd felt like she was being rewarded.

Until now.

He'd said to do whatever was necessary. To get him that DNA sample or not bother coming back to Arizona. If she didn't go back, where would she go? What would she do? She had a total of forty-six credits, because Larry liked for her to be home whenever he was, so her schedule had to work around his. She could graduate with an Associate's degree in general studies, but she wasn't near the point where she could transfer to a four-year college and work toward a Bachelor's in chemistry, which was what she really wanted. Not to mention the fact that she didn't have the money to pay for any of that. Larry had said he provided her with everything she needed so there was no reason for her to officially be on the lab's payroll. She'd believed him.

Croy DiLaurent was a sleazy, manipulative asshole and his feet stank! But he had the name and telephone number of the doctor that had given him that DNA sample. He could call the guy and have him bring that DNA sample holder to her. She could get on a plane and go back to the life she'd mostly enjoyed living. But he wasn't giving any of that up for free. So she'd let him hump her until he came, quickly and very nastily in her ass. He'd fondled her with clumsy hands and a drooling mouth, he'd fingered her everywhere he could get his chubby little digits, and finally—because she hadn't humiliated herself enough—he'd asked for the blow job.

Her stomach roiled with nausea once more.

“We'd better get going,” he said, knocking on the bathroom door. “You don't want to miss what you've come all this way for.”

Rubbing her still-damp hands down her face, Lilah took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She moved away from the sink, grabbed a towel from the rack, and wiped her hands dry. When she opened the door he was standing there smiling. His wire-framed glasses crooked on a nose that had been broken before, dirty-blond hair having been slathered with some sort of hair product and slicked to the side. He looked like a modern-day Clark Kent, without the cuteness, and talked like one of the characters on that television show with all the nerds.

Yet, Lilah reached down deep, saw how bright her future was and how much potential that diploma she'd burned had given her, and smiled. “I'm ready,” she said cheerfully.

“Oh, I am too,” Croy added, a salacious smile gliding across his face.

She put up her hands, landing them right in the center of his chest as a barrier. “We're going to be late,” she reminded him.

He nodded. “Yeah, okay. We should go. But before you leave, right? You promised one more time before you go.”

He sounded like a kid begging to stay up for just another hour on a school night. She'd never done that personally because who the hell wanted to stay up late when they lived in an orphanage?

“Right,” she assured him. She even let him palm her ass as she walked beside him out the door of his apartment and to the car. She prayed they were heading to the hospital where DiLaurent said he kept one last vial of blood that contained the DNA she needed. She was more than ready to go the hell home.

*   *   *

“Is this going to help?” Ary asked Dr. Frank Papplin, the first Shadow doctor she'd met when she came to the United States.

Together, the two of them had created a first-rate medical center within the walls of Havenway. There, they could treat both human ailments and injuries specifically related to shifters. While Papplin still spent the majority of his time at Washington Hospital Center, he made a point to be at Havenway as much as possible. More in the last month since Shya's health had taken a turn for the worse.

Ary held her daughter close to her chest now, doing the famous mother's stand, shake, and cradle so Shya would remain asleep. Every few minutes her daughter would stir, crunching her cute little face up as if she were about to cry out in pain. Then Ary would rock her, rub her back, and press her cheek right against her daughter's smaller, chubbier one, and the little girl would calm down. Most of the hours in her day were spent this way, but Ary would not complain. Every breath Shya took was another second of hope that they would find a way to reverse the effects of the damiana her daughter had ingested while in utero.

“I think it is our best bet for now. DiLaurent says he's found something, a possible way to isolate the contaminated areas in her body and treat them with a powerful antibiotic,” Papplin continued.

He was still wearing his light blue scrubs from the hospital and a worn leather jacket. “We can go, let him examine her, and listen to what he has to say. If we're not comfortable with his suggestion, we can leave.”

Ary listened, heard the logic in his words but still felt hesitant. That could possibly be because Nick wasn't here. In addition to being one of Rome's Lead Enforcers, her husband was also a very savvy business attorney. As such, he was now in a predicted three-week products liability trial in the city. She could text him and ask his opinion but it might be an hour or so before he could request a recess to call her back.

Shya arched in her arms, her little mouth opened, her eyes squeezed shut, and she let out a wail that could have awakened the dead. Holding her tight and rocking faster than she had before, Ary put her cheek to her daughter's, even though the crying had her ears ringing, and told Papplin, “Sure, give me a second to get Leo. We'll meet you at the front door.”

*   *   *

An hour and a half later, Ary walked down the familiar halls of Washington Hospital Center, her daughter still in her arms. Leo walked right beside her, so close his arm bumped hers as they moved. The moment her personal guard had found out Nick wasn't accompanying them, he'd enlisted another guard to travel with them. That shifter, Aidan Sanchez, was just as close to her other side, carrying Shya's baby bag in his left hand while his right—his gun hand, she presumed—remained free. Both shifters were over six feet tall, with broad shoulders and no-nonsense glares. Aidan was one of the newest initiates; he and his two brothers were part of an elite team that Rome had put together. Nick had told her that the plan had been for this threesome to work specifically with infiltrating the rogue recruitment throughout the States. They'd been trained specifically for this task and for that reason, had been personally pursued by Sabar before his timely death. Today, however, the oldest of the Sanchez brothers was with her and her daughter, giving Ary an even higher measure of security.

Their truck had pulled up to the back of the hospital and they entered through the maintenance entrance, Papplin's ID providing access to many of the entrances into the building. The hallways down here were freshly painted the ugliest yellow color Ary had ever seen. The rubber bottom of her Dansko clogs squeaked on the floor as it had been lightly drizzling outside when they stepped out of the truck.

Shya was asleep, her tiny fist clenching the collar of Ary's shirt tightly, a fleece Disney princess blanket draped over her entire body, shielding her from the outside elements and anyone that might be watching. She'd sent Nick a text before leaving Havenway, and after checking her phone before getting out of the truck, he still hadn't replied.

“This way,” Papplin said, looking over his shoulder at her.

She followed, Aidan and Leo turning the corner with her, both of them looking back behind them without losing their step. They boarded a service elevator, its walls padded with some type of cushioning. There was a weird smell like antiseptic and ammonia. Her nostrils tingled as she moved to the back of the elevator, Aidan and Leo standing just in front of her, blocking her view.

“The lab is on the third floor, all the way down the end of the hall.” Papplin began giving Leo and Aidan the layout before they arrived. “There's a guard and electronic doors that either need to be activated by the guard or opened with an ID card. That's through the general admission wing. We're going to come up on the back of the floor, so we'll get off the elevator and head straight to the side door of the lab. It's also locked electronically but my badge can get us in. Once in the lab, I'll make the introductions and talk to DiLaurent about his chemical findings. Then he'll take a look at Shya and if we decide to proceed more lab work will be done on her so we can figure out the exact antibiotic to be used.”

Ary listened, letting the words process in her mind, while inside her cat shifted uncomfortably, slithering along her spine as if in preparation. She lifted the blanket slightly, inhaling deeply the comforting baby scent her daughter carried. She smiled, looking down into a face that held so much of her and Nick she couldn't help but feel full of love. Thick black hair covered Shya's head, the sweetest curls wrapping around the bottom of her ear. Heart-shaped lips puckered as she breathed, in and out, in and out. Long lashes fanned over her upper cheeks like angel's wings. This little girl was everything to her, all that she'd ever wished for after being reunited with her mate. After her own tumultuous upbringing in the Gungi and her parents' ultimate betrayal, Ary had decided she would only give her child happy memories and love and support all the days of their lives. Closing her eyes, she prayed those days would be long and plentiful.