Hidden Desire

by Amy Patrick

  “Well, well, look who’s here. I trust you had a refreshing break?” Father sneers.

  “Yes. Sorry about that. I guess I’m not quite used to working full time yet,” I lie.

  “You’re an adult now. It’s time to get up to speed—in your work and every other area. Speaking of which, I’ve been in contact with the Dark Council leader in Italy. His daughter Alessia is about to turn eighteen. That could be a good alliance for us.”

  Inwardly, I bristle at his mention of marrying me off. On the surface, I am all unconcern and cooperation. “Whatever you wish, Father.”

  “I hear she’s quite beautiful. But if you find she doesn’t interest you in that way, don’t be concerned. You may still keep up your activities with humans on the side after the wedding, as long as you don’t attempt to go too far with it. You could even retain your little plaything from the past couple of days as part of your household staff if she appeals to you that much.”

  My heart freezes to an abrupt stop then assumes a panicky beat. Did he get a look at Laney? Is there any chance he’s found out anything about her?

  “No,” I say in a casual, almost bored, tone. “She’s nothing special. I’m finished with her.”

  “Good, because we’re moving to the next level of production in our S facilities.” He gives me a steely-eyed grin. “I need all your focus and attention now. We’re almost ready to expand beyond the major coastal cities into the heartland of America.”

  “What would you like me to do? Shall I go and inspect the new facilities for you?”

  Father waves a hand dismissively as he stands at his desk, leafing through papers. “I like you where you are—you’re doing a good job as a brand ambassador for us, encouraging S experimentation.”

  “But I want to play a larger role. I’m ready for more responsibility. As your son and heir, I think I should have a more visible role, don’t you? Any number of Elves or attractive humans could take my place as pushers. I’m ready for more.”

  Father looks at me speculatively. He nods his head, a smile sneaking across his normally severe face. “Perhaps you’re right. I am rather busy today with other matters. I’ll have you go to our local facility and inspect things in my place. Our healer will accompany you—he needs to make sure the proper proportions of ingredients are present in the drug to foster maximum addictiveness in human users. After you give your report, I’ll determine whether to send you to our other facilities.”

  He touches a button on his desktop intercom. “Frida, my son is leaving now. Please send in my ten o’clock appointment.”

  Releasing the button, he steps from behind his desk and approaches me with catlike grace, his icy eyes sparking with pride or maybe with the anticipation of father/son world domination. He places a hand on each of my shoulders and squeezes, facing me eye to eye.

  “I’m pleased. Very pleased. I haven’t been sure you were totally on board with this. But the two of us working together can accomplish anything. Along those lines, I want you to keep an eye on Hakon for me today.”

  “Why? You think he’s incompetent?”

  “No. Not incompetent. His talent is above reproach. It’s his... enthusiasm I question. He’s changed since we’ve begun the S initiative.”

  “I’ll watch him.”

  He hands me a business card. “Here’s his number. Pick him up and then drive to our facility north of the city in the foothills. He knows where it is.”

  It’s interesting. All the time I lived in Australia and England I thought of my father as all powerful and pictured his subjects—formerly Davis’s subjects—as loyal and completely under the control of the Dark Council. But Ava disobeyed him and defected. Now there’s another possible dissenter in his ranks.

  How many more might there be? Could Ava be right? Can we possibly count on more allies to aid our cause? And I do consider it our cause now. Stopping the S Scourge is the best—and possibly only—way to get Laney to leave the city and go back home. The sooner that happens the better.

  The healer gives me his location, and I put the address into my car’s GPS. Hmm. Pretty sketchy neighborhood for a doctor to live or practice in—Elven or human.

  When I reach the building it’s apparent he doesn’t live here. It’s a homeless shelter. A line of people stretches down the sidewalk. Baffled, I park in a metered spot, lock my car, then go inside, seeking out someone who looks official.

  A woman sits at a table in the building’s front room, surrounded by stacks of papers, talking on the phone. She tucks the receiver against her shoulder and asks, “Can I help you?”

  “I’m looking for Hakon?”

  “Oh yes. Doctor Hakon is back in the med clinic.” She points over her shoulder. “Just follow the signs. Are you here to volunteer?”

  I almost choke in shock. “Uh, no. I...” Shaking my head, I walk away quickly, following the signs to the shelter’s medical clinic.

  Is that what Hakon’s doing here? Volunteering? Surely not. Maybe this is where he pushes the S—there are certainly plenty of addicts here. Kind of seems pointless to me, sort of like preaching to the converted, but who am I to question Father’s methodology. It’s working well enough.

  I spot Hakon as soon as I open the clinic door. He’s the only one here who looks even remotely Elven. A broad-shouldered, black-haired man, he is middle-aged and handsome. Actually, he might be older than middle-aged—that’s as far as any of us get when it comes to appearance.

  But no, he doesn’t have the wizened, cynical eyes characteristic of the truly old ones like my father. Hakon’s green-blue eyes are rimmed with faint laugh lines, but they still hold the bright spark of someone who’s seen less of the world and still has the capacity to enjoy it.

  “Culley?” he asks.

  “Yes,” I confirm.

  He smiles and holds up a finger. “I’ll be with you in a minute.” He turns his attention back to the patient sitting on a chair in front of him, speaking to the skeletal old man in a gentle tone. “All right now—I want you to promise me you’ll keep eating, Mr. Jackson. You need to regain some weight, build up your strength.”

  “I will, doctor. Thank you, doctor.”

  “Good man.” Hakon claps him on the shoulder and starts walking toward me, saying a few words to an assistant before we leave together.

  Once outside, my curiosity gets the better of me. “I didn’t realize you treated humans as well. You have a medical degree?”

  He smiles and shakes his head. “I’m a ‘holistic’ medicine doctor as far as the shelter directors know. They’re not picky. Regular volunteers are hard to come by at this place. And the patients don’t care. The vast majority of them have no insurance and no money to pay for treatment. Anything’s better than nothing.”

  “So what’s the old man’s problem?”

  “Cancer. The tumor’s gone, but he’s weak. He’s got a few months of recovery ahead of him. He’ll be okay,” he adds as if I was truly concerned about the old geezer.

  “It’s gone... you healed him?”

  Hakon winks and holds a finger up to his lips, though I’m not sure whether it’s the humans or my father he wants to hide his extracurricular healing activities from. His next words answer the question.

  “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention to Audun exactly where you picked me up today. It’s my day off, but I still don’t think he’d be thrilled.”

  Wow. The guy has a pair, I’ll give him that. In spite of his rather off-putting concern for underprivileged humans, I feel a grudging respect for the man. Anyone who’s not quaking in fear of my father is either extraordinarily brave or just plain stupid, and the healer doesn’t seem like a fool to me.

  “So... you’ve been to the factory before?” I ask.

  “A couple times. At initial setup and then once more recently to tweak things with the formula.”

  “Seems like it’s pretty effective.”

  “Yes,” he answers in a grim tone, turning away from me. “Do you want
to take your car or mine?”

  “Let’s take mine. I don’t want to leave it here.”

  Taking a last look back at the clinic and the collection of human misery that surrounds it, I pop the door locks and climb in, pushing the air conditioner button immediately to get some relief from the heat that’s collected inside.

  With the ever present L.A. traffic, the drive to the factory takes about two hours. Hakon and I make small talk along the way. Father is right—he doesn’t seem particularly enthusiastic about his work on the S project. Maybe he just prefers dealing with patients. It would be natural for a healer to be more interested in healing than manipulating a drug to cause the most possible damage to people—kind of goes against the whole doctor’s code thing I guess.

  The factory is located in the outskirts of Simi Valley, north of the city, a large, dilapidated looking building that Father must have acquired cheaply. Doubtful there was even any permitting done before production began. The cracked concrete parking lot is dotted with patches of weeds sprouting from the broken spots. Surrounding it is a warped, rusted chain link fence. There are only a few cars in the lot. I pull mine right up to the scarred metal doors and park it.

  As we get out, Hakon advises me to follow him and walks toward the building at a let’s-get-this-over-with pace.

  “What are we looking for exactly?” I ask.

  “They’ve been given enough raw saol to increase production. So we’ll make sure they’re working up to speed, meeting the quotas Audun has put forth. We’ll also find out how their efforts to produce saol itself are coming along.”

  “They’re having trouble?”

  “It’s not as easy as it seems. There aren’t as many old growth trees here as there are near Altum. We’ve been sending harvesters up to the redwood forests on the northern coast and the giant sequoias in the Sierra Nevada to gather sap from their root systems, but that’s not the only problem. Something is going wrong during the distilling process. Perhaps you can advise us on it. I haven’t been to Altum and seen it in person for almost ten years myself.”

  “Of course. I’ll try. So... for now you’re relying solely on the initial saol samples I brought back?”

  “Not solely, but mostly. So far that’s the most viable and effective active ingredient we have.” From the sound of it, the last word seems to leave a sour taste in his mouth. “Without you, there would be no S production at all.”

  As he walks, he glances back over his shoulder as if to see how the information strikes me.

  I don’t show him. It actually hit me like a sucker punch to the gut, but I don’t know for sure whether Hakon’s sympathies are with my father or with the innocent human population so I can’t let him suspect the traitorous thoughts spinning through my mind.

  Without me, Laney wouldn’t have ever come to L.A. Her brother would never have died of an overdose. He’d be alive. She’d be safe and happy. It makes me feel like the Angel of Death. How could I have ever thought she’d like me?

  “Okay, here we are,” he says, pointing around at the various work stations in the busy, whirring room. “This is the tableting room. The raw active S is kept here. The chemists cut it with a bulking agent and a binder here. The ingredients are blended over here and put into a granulator. Then they go into the tablet press. These machines can produce thirty thousand tablets an hour. You’ll recognize these.” He grabs a handful of pills and lets them spill back out of his palm into the bin.

  His expression is easier to read this time—definitely judgmental. My hopes rise, detecting his disapproval of the drug itself and of me. Maybe this is the ally we’re looking for. Even if I’m wrong and he’s all for the world domination plan, it occurs to me I should at least pump him for information—maybe some of it will be useful to Ava and Lad and Ryann and Nox and Vancia as they work toward a solution on their end of this mess.

  “Why are they wearing masks and gloves?” I nod toward the workers at the far end of the table where the raw S is handled. “You’re not afraid of giving the humans germs, I assume.”

  He gives me a wan smile. “No. It’s for the workers’ protection. As you know, the substance is highly addictive.”

  My eyes go wide. “Elves are affected by it as well?”

  He nods. “Yes. Unfortunately. We’ve had to get rid of some of our chemists because they became useless and began stealing our supplies to satisfy their own habits. Then Audun put out word that any of our people caught using S would be severely punished—you remember. We’ve had no problems since then.”

  “Right. I’m surprised the Light Elves have been able to have it so close for so long without ill effects.”

  His brows draw together. “I’ve wondered about the same thing. Obviously something is different about their constitutions. Or maybe it’s environmental. I’m not sure. I’d ask, but I doubt I’d have any luck getting answers on that one. My communication with their healer is limited. When I am there for the Assemblage, Wickthorne and I don’t exactly discuss state secrets.”

  “How do you test the final product for efficacy? If it’s so addictive?”

  His gaze slides off to the side then comes back to meet mine. “I can’t test it on myself, obviously. I use... volunteers.”

  “Humans.”

  “Yes,” he says grimly.

  “Swayed?”

  A terse nod. Then his glance slides over to me. Why are you here? Did Audun send you to test me?

  No. I came to check on the factory. To learn. Why do you ask?

  I don’t think he trusts me.

  Should he?

  He doesn’t answer my question, only asks another of his own. Do you share his glamour gift?

  No. I inherited my mother’s.

  A grin cuts across his face and he shakes his head. If you did, you’d be able to lie to me anyway, and I’d never know.

  Why do you think he doesn’t trust you?

  He shrugs noncommittally. He’s had me followed. Audun trusts no one. One of his brows lifts as he repeats, No one.

  Something in his bright aquamarine eyes alarms me. Is he warning me that I might have been followed in the past?

  The thought sends a jolt of adrenaline through my body. Laney. I’ve taken her from my condo to the clinic more than once. Could Father’s lackeys have followed us there? Could one of them be there right now, watching Laney, perhaps posing as an S addict to get close to her? Or maybe he’s waiting outside the building for her to emerge when her work hours are through. Suddenly I fear I’ve made a very grave error leaving her there alone all day. Slipping my phone out of my pocket, I check the time and blanch.

  “I’ve seen enough,” I bark. “I need to get back to the city.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Bucket List

  By the time I drop off Hakon and return to the clinic in Chesterfield I’ve broken every speed limit ever conceived by the LAPD and the CHP as well. My face is covered in a sheen of sweat, though I’ve had the air blasting the whole way.

  Right at five o’clock, Laney emerges from the clinic looking serene and happy—and beautiful. Of course.

  I get out and walk around to the passenger side of the car, opening the door before she can tell me not to. “You called for a limo, lady?”

  She stops in place. “Culley—I told you—I don’t want you picking me up every day. I’m fine.”

  “I know. I’m only here because... there’s somewhere I wanted to take you.”

  Her face contracts in suspicion. “Where?”

  “You’ll see. Trust me.”

  “Fine.” She blows out a breath and walks toward me, feeling for the car as she gets close.

  Once we’re inside and on the road, I come up with a plan to transform my excuse for picking her up from lie into truth.

  Smiling to myself, I turn up the radio. “It’s going to take about forty minutes to get there.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Be patient. Good things come to those who wait.”


  When we arrive at our destination, I park the car but leave it running. “Okay, get out.”

  “We’re here?”

  “Yes. And we’re going to switch places.”

  She freezes, her hand on the door pull. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean you’re going to drive. So get out and come around to this side.”

  “Culley—are you serious? I can’t do that.”

  “Why not? You said you wanted to do things that challenge you, to experience things you’ve never done. Today, you’re going to drive. We’re in the parking lot of the Rose Bowl. Apparently, lots of native Angelenos learn to drive here.”

  “But...”

  “It’s empty, Laney. And it’s huge. There’s nothing for you to hit. And if you do get close to something, I’ll tell you to hit the brakes.”

  “Oh my gosh,” she says, her voice shaking. But then she smiles—a wide, genuine one. “Okay.”

  She gets out and makes her way to the driver’s seat. I shut her door and go around, climbing into the passenger side, strapping on my seatbelt and making sure she’s done the same.

  “Okay now, you said you played Xbox with your brother, right?”

  She nods.

  “Ever play any driving games?”

  “Yes, but there were no pedals.”

  “Okay, well the steering wheel action is pretty much the same. But you’re going to use your right foot to operate the gas pedal as well as the brake. Brake’s on the left. Go ahead and press down on it—I’ll shift the car into drive for you.”

  “I’m scared,” she says.

  “Me too,” I admit and we both laugh. “Just kidding—you’re going to be great. Remember the brake is on the left. Okay, it’s in drive. Give it some gas.”

  “Wait, Culley—how much did this car cost?”

  I glance around at the interior of my four and a half million dollar LaFerrari and smile. “Not so much. Now go ahead. You can do this.”

  Laney gingerly applies her foot to the pedal, and we ease forward, then she presses harder, causing the car to speed up. It jerks to a sudden halt, and she giggles nervously. “Sorry.”