by Juniper Hart
“We’ve got this,” she assured the director. “Right, Preston?”
Preston nodded.
“Of course. It’s what we’ve been trained to do.”
Anatoli paused and stared at him, her expression indecipherable for a moment, but she eventually turned away and nodded at Dex.
“Shall we? I’m looking forward to normal days and nights now.”
She stopped again to look at the pair of scientists.
“By the way,” she added lightly, “I might be back.”
Laurel shrugged even though the words felt like a heavy warning.
“It’s your program,” she agreed. A smile twitched on Anatoli’s lips and she again nodded at Dex.
“Let’s fly,” she told him.
Laurel hadn’t realized she had been holding her breath until the duo departed out the door, the latch clicking with a blissful finality.
“I thought she’d never leave,” Preston grumbled, jumping up from his spot at his desk. “This calls for a celebration.”
Before Laurel could comment, he pulled out the half bottle of Jameson that had incapacitated Anatoli.
“None for me, thanks, but you go ahead,” Laurel told him, picking up her laptop. A frown of irritation formed on Preston’s lips.
“You’re really not going to have one drink with me?” he demanded.
“Not tonight,” Laurel replied, rising from her spot. “I’m tired.”
She wasn’t tired in the least. If anything, she was wired for sound and ready to shift but she didn’t want Preston to suspect her plans.
“One drink!” Preston pleaded.
“No,” Laurel replied shortly. “Good night.”
She retreated into her bedroom and closed the door, locking it on a whim. She wasn’t genuinely concerned that he would enter her room unannounced, but she didn’t want to have any unexpected surprises.
I wish there were windows in here, she thought, pursing her mouth as she glanced around the bedroom as if for the first time. It would make her escape so much easier.
She put her laptop on the nightstand and reached for the encyclopedia she’d lugged with her from the compound. She hadn’t turned on the burner phone once since making the call to her mother, but she suddenly wished she’d thought to give its number to Nicoy.
In the common area, she heard Preston shuffling around, grunting softly to himself, but she paid him no mind.
Drink yourself to sleep, she told him silently. And hurry up so I can get out of here.
Lying in wait, Laurel unexpectedly fell asleep. When she woke, she was covered in sweat, breathing heavily.
Bad dream? she asked herself, but she had no memory of what had given her such a fright. A quick glance at the alarm clock on the night table told her that it was almost four a.m. If she was going to Nicoy, she’d have to go now, before the sun came up and Preston realized she was gone.
Unlocking the door, she quietly opened it and listened for signs of life in the unit, but she heard nothing at all.
Her shoulders sagged with relief and Laurel padded into the common area, her eyes scanning the room, but when her gaze rested on Preston’s room, she realized that the door was wide open.
Apprehension caught her breath as she moved stealthily toward it and she realized that he wasn’t there.
Where the hell did he go now?
A bemused thought crossed her mind as she envisioned Preston off with a local woman, as eager to get out of the unit as she was, but the notion didn’t jibe in her head.
If he met someone, he wouldn’t have been inviting me to drink with him. And he probably would have announced it to me, if only to gloat that he’d moved on.
But where was he, then?
Inhaling and stifling her disappointment at having to prolong her wait to see Nicoy, she moved toward the front door, pausing to stuff her feet into a pair of old sneakers by the entranceway.
The door to the unit was unlocked from the inside, confirming what Laurel had already suspected—that Preston had gone out.
Maybe he went for a run?
It was another inane thought. Preston would do everything in his power to avoid running. He certainly wouldn’t go out in the middle of the night to burn off steam.
Slowly, her eyes adjusting to the darkness, she honed her senses for a whiff of Preston and where he had gone. In mere seconds, she picked up voices.
“…to do?” Preston growled. “The bitch just left a few hours ago and I had to make sure the other one was asleep.”
An unfamiliar male voice answered him.
“This wasn’t our deal,” the stranger retorted. “If there are going to be delays in the future, I’d rather work with someone more reliable.”
None of the words made sense to Laurel but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something untoward was happening under her nose.
She followed the sound of the hushed tones into the thick of trees and finally saw what she was seeking—Preston standing with another man.
Upon a closer look, Laurel realized it wasn’t a man, but a demon.
Laurel had to blink to be certain, demon presences so rare and fleeting. It wasn’t just that the beast was an elusive creature. It was the fact that his outfit cost more than she made in a year, his patent leather shoes sinking into the mud as he scowled at Preston.
“Just give me the research,” the man snapped. “I’ve already been here longer than I ever wanted to be.”
“It’s only been a few days,” Preston whined, handing a stack of paperwork to him. “And Iceland is beautiful. I can think of worse places to vacation.”
Laurel’s mouth fell open as she watched the exchange.
“Is this everything?” the demon wanted to know, his inky eyes scanning the reports in front of him.
“Well…I mean, it’s everything I could get my hands on. Laurel is working on some things right now—”
“Dammit, Preston! This was not our arrangement. If you want to be trusted, you need to hold up your end of the bargain too!”
“I could only get so much because Anatoli was here!” Preston grumbled. “If you give me another day, I’ll get Laurel’s research too.”
“Preston, you are the most incompetent Sleeper I’ve worked with yet. Get me everything—everything! I don’t want to hear any more of your excuses. You have until tomorrow or our deal is off, and I’ll tell my superiors that you can’t be trusted.”
“I can be trusted! I’ve outfitted the Cabal with everything I could so far!” Preston cried.
“Keep your voice down!” the demon hissed, his eyes darting around the forest.
Laurel shrank back, her heart hammering in her chest.
“You have twenty-four hours to get me everything,” the demon continued, closing the short gap between them. Even from where she stood, Laurel could read the malice in his steely blue eyes as they clashed with Preston’s. “I don’t need to tell you what happens when you cross the Cabal, do I?”
Preston balked and stepped back, shaking his head.
“I’ll get you Laurel’s research,” he said quickly. “I’ll do it tonight.”
Laurel stepped back, realizing that she had to protect her work before Preston could get to it.
“I’ll grab my computer and run to Nicoy where I’ll be safe,” she breathed quietly to herself.
She spun and half-sprinted toward the unit, her heart hammering wildly as she moved.
Inside the unit, she debated locking Preston out but if she did that, she would be locked in too.
No, she told herself firmly, rushing into her bedroom to grab her laptop and the cell phone and stuffing them into a backpack. She knew she didn’t have much time.
Whirling from the bedroom, she rushed into the common area and froze in her tracks.
“Hey, Laurel. Where are you off to at this time of night?” Preston asked leeringly, advancing on her.
A small gasp escaped her lips and she stepped away, the fear in her eyes almost palpable.
“I-I have somewhere to be,” she squeaked, knowing she wasn’t convincing anyone with her words. Preston’s face twisted into a frown.
“Give me the bag, Laurel and I’ll let you live,” he promised. Indignation shot through her like a firework.
“No!” she spat at him, closing her hand more tightly around the sack. “I’m not enabling you to be a traitor.”
Preston’s eyes darkened as he realized that she knew everything. Suddenly, he scoffed.
“A traitor? I’m helping the world. What do you think Anatoli is going to do with our research, huh? All she’s doing is hoarding it for herself and her stupid Sleeper program that will never amount to anything. At least I’m giving it to someone who can make good use of it.”
“You think the Cabal is going to help anyone but themselves?” Laurel demanded, aghast that she was having such a conversation. “They don’t care about anyone but their elitist friends.”
“Their elitist friends are the ones with money,” Preston shot back. Disappointment overcame all else in Laurel’s body.
“Money?” she repeated. “That’s what this is all about? Money?”
“What the hell else is there?” Preston asked, shrugging.
“Preston, I thought you were better than this. I thought you wanted to unify the world, not be a puppet for the Cabal.”
Preston sneered, stepping closer.
“Save me the righteous rhetoric, Laurel. Your babe in the woods disposition is only going to get you killed one day.”
He reached out to snatch her bag, but Laurel had seen him coming and she ducked around him, her body swooshing past him as she shifted.
“LAUREL!” Preston howled after her. “Don’t be a fool!”
With the bag securely around her neck, she bolted into the trees, adrenaline pumping through her veins as she tried to put as much distance between her and Preston as possible.
She knew she couldn’t go to Nicoy’s house, not with Preston on her trail, but—
The gunshot rang out and a searing pain crippled her as she fell forward, blood oozing from the wound in her shoulder. Instantly, her body transformed from her fox form into her mortal body, struggling to survive.
“I told you not to be stupid!” Preston hissed, his shadow falling over her as he approached. “Now look what you made me do.”
Dizziness and fear overcame Laurel as she realized that she was losing consciousness.
“S-silver bullet…” she rasped, her eyelids falling. Preston looked at her pityingly.
“I warned you,” he said again, leaning forward to snatch the bag from her shoulder. Laurel cried out but blackness closed in around her, the sound dying on her lips, dying just like she was.
19
They froze where they stood, the sound of the gunshot ricocheting through the trees.
“Was that—”
“A gunshot!” Nicoy cried, racing through the forest toward the noise. It was close, closer than he had expected, and it filled him with a dread he had never known.
“Nic!”
He didn’t want to stop but the odd sound of whooshing above his head forced him to look up where Xander was gaping.
Over their heads flew a beast unlike any Nicoy had ever seen in his life.
“I-is that a dragon?” Xander whispered in awe. Nicoy didn’t have time to entertain the wonder of the animal and continued to sprint through the trees.
For hours they had been combing the woods, checking their GPS to locate any area where Laurel might have gone with her team.
“Nic, we can’t rush in there!” Xander yelped, hurrying after him. “The shifters can be dangerous and if that was a gunshot…”
“Laurel is out there!” he growled. “She’s there and in danger. We know that for sure now.”
Xander didn’t protest even though his resistance was obvious.
“This way.”
With confident determination, Nicoy led the way, his senses suddenly heightened as he moved. They had spent the day talking to the locals, asking about the newcomers to the area, and the best they’d found were the hiking guides who had seen a portable unit set up near Hesteyri.
“I’ve never seen anyone coming or going but I get the sense that there are people there,” one of the guides offered.
It was the best lead they had and the rest of the day had been dedicated to locating the spot where the guides had seen the unit.
They had almost been ready to call it a night, their bodies exhausted both physically and emotionally, when they’d heard the shot.
“Oh!”
It was Xander who saw her, just as he had that day in the rain.
Crumpled and unconscious, Laurel lay on the floor of the forest, bleeding from her shoulder. A sick sense of déjà vu overcame Nicoy, but he didn’t give himself a chance to get caught up in the emotion he was feeling.
Without thinking, he reached for her, pulling her limp body into his arms and running back toward the cabin.
“Get her bag!” he ordered Xander, who scanned the area for signs of anyone else. His housemate didn’t hesitate and he scooped up the satchel, rushing to join his side.
For all their wandering about, the unit was not far from their cabin and in less than half an hour, Laurel lay on the settee as Nicoy pulled her shirt away to examine the wound.
“What kind of bullet is that?” Xander asked nervously.
“Silver,” Nicoy answered, the word almost sticking in his throat. “We need to get it out of her. She’s dying.”
Xander raced off to retrieve the first aid kit as Nicoy worked furiously to save her. It was clear that every second that passed, she was slipping further and further away from him.
“Here,” Xander said, thrusting the tools at him as he pulled out his phone and dialed out.
“Who the hell are you calling?” Nicoy demanded, his eyes fixed on removing the bullet from Laurel’s shoulder. “You need to help me.”
Xander didn’t answer as he paced the room.
“Eli!” he choked into the phone. Nicoy’s head jerked up and he gaped at his friend. “It’s me… I know and I wouldn’t be calling you if this wasn’t an emergency!”
The bullet came out with tweezers and Laurel began to tremble beneath him.
“I need to know what the antidote to silver poisoning is,” Xander moaned. “Please!”
He listened and Nicoy kept one ear on the conversation, but his hope was slipping away as he studied the waxen face of his mate.
“Hurry up!” he yelled at Xander but he knew his friend was doing everything he could. He had a terrible feeling that nothing could be done, that he had failed to protect Laurel when she had done her best to protect him.
“NO!” Xander yelled. “There must be something else. Anything else!”
Nicoy closed his eyes and dropped his head against Laurel’s chest. Her breaths were slowing.
“Heal, damn you!” he sobbed, pressing his hand to her heart. “Heal! You did it before!”
A hand on his shoulder told him that Xander had done all he could. He was off the phone.
“How can we save her? What can we do?” Nicoy cried, his eyes flooded with tears of grief.
“There’s nothing we can do,” Xander muttered, tears in his own eyes. “The only way to save her is through the healing powers of a witch elder.”
Nicoy’s head jerked up.
“Y-you said there was a witch with her!” he said excitedly. “You said—”
“Don’t be insane!” Xander snapped. “She was probably the one who did this to her! If she finds out that Laurel isn’t dead, she’ll come here and finish off the job!”
Nicoy couldn’t accept the fact that Laurel was dying in front of him. A combination of frustration and sorrow overtook him as he again rocked her body in his arms.
Fight, Laurel. Come on. I know you’re stronger than this.
But there was nothing left to be done now but wait for the inevitable death that would seize her.
<
br /> “No!” he shouted again, sitting up to scoop her into his arms. “Get in the truck. We’re taking her to a hospital.”
“Nic, that won’t—”
“I don’t care!” he shouted, not wanting to hear Xander’s arguments. It might be an exercise in futility, but he wouldn’t stop until he had done everything he could.
There was no one at the Westfjords Healthcare Institute when they arrived, and the doctors wheeled Laurel inside without delay when they saw her condition.
“She’s not supposed to die!” Nicoy moaned. “She’s supposed to be immortal!”
“Someone knew what they were doing,” Xander said grimly. “They wanted her out of the way.”
“What happened, sir?”
A nervous-looking doctor appeared with a tablet in his hand,
“We found her in the woods with a gunshot,” Xander explained as Nicoy tried to find the words. “Nicoy took the bullet out but…”
The surgeon nodded.
“She’s a shifter, ja?”
Their heads jerked toward him in unison.
“What?”
“A shifter… she can change bodies with an animal?” His English was halting but his question was unmistakable.
Xander and Nicoy exchanged a look.
“Yes,” they breathed in unison.
“The bullet was silver,” the doctor went on, shaking his head. “There is nothing that can be done. I have bought her some time with a charcoal smear, but the poison has already seeped into her bloodstream.”
Hearing the words from a professional only drove home the feelings of grief.
“Can I see her?” he whispered, his knees buckling beneath him.
“She won’t know you’re there,” the doctor sighed. “But you should be with her in her final moments.”
Xander nodded as Nicoy cast him a sidelong look.
“You go. I’ll be here,” he said softly. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Nicoy allowed himself to be led away down the corridor and into Laurel’s room.
Her complexion was almost gray, her lips white. She had never looked closer to death than at that moment. Nicoy knew he had precious minutes left to say his goodbyes.
