More than Truth (Arcane Crossbreeds)

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More than Truth (Arcane Crossbreeds) Page 16

by Vyne, Amanda


  Brit narrowed her eyes. Did she anticipate the darkness of the truth before she knew exactly what it was? Not for the first time, Vin suspected her natural intellect was enhanced by a certain degree of psychic talent.

  “What kind of deal?”

  “They agreed to leave you alone, and in exchange I offered to continue—”

  “Doc!” The lab door opened with a snick, and a woman with blonde hair and ice-blue eyes barreled in. Katya—the mate of the other Drachon. “You need to see this.”

  Brit’s gaze lingered on him for a long moment as though she would ask him to go on, but she only turned and followed Katya to a computer terminal. Heart pounding heavily, Vin moved to stand behind them. He didn’t know if he was relieved or discouraged by the stay of execution.

  “Tag found footage of the women in that room, including your sister. They were moved the morning of the raid on the facility.” Katya stepped back to show them the video footage of five women being escorted down a hall. A guard held one, a tiny brunette, to his side, a gun to her head. The other four walked in front of him. One woman looked over her shoulder, long red hair falling down her back, eyes promising death to the guard. That was definitely Brit’s sister.

  “Look!” Katya panted, her excitement poured off her skin. Vin glanced down at the little blonde, tilting his head, easing his mind over hers. Her heartbeat was fast and irregular.

  “See that woman herding them into that room?”

  Vin turned his gaze back to the screen. A tall, thin woman with glasses and her hair pulled tightly back from her face was ushering the women into the room. She wore a lab coat, and an identification tag swung from the breast pocket. The woman glanced back over her shoulder, seemingly nervous.

  “She’s Dr. Rupple’s assistant.” Katya gasped, holding on to the back of the chair tucked beneath the computer station. “She tried to convince me to leave with some guards when I was there. We think she’s working for the Rebels. Now watch…”

  Katya’s hands shook, and she had to type the sequence of commands twice before she got it right. A new video came on the screen. This one of another cell with a single bed, a sink, and a toilet. Three of the women sat on the bed, and the other two, including Meghann, paced the small space.

  “Katya?” Brit braced the other woman as she swayed to the side. “Come sit.”

  “No!” Katya panted. “Watch. It looks like they’re talking to someone just off screen, and then one by one they just walk off.”

  “Did Tag check the blueprint of the building? Is there another hidden door like in Rupple’s lab?” Vin frowned down at the screen. The angle of the camera didn’t provide coverage of that corner.

  “The schematics didn’t show…” Katya’s voice faded off, and she reached for the back of the chair again but missed. Vin barely caught her as she lost consciousness.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Lay her on the cart,” Brit instructed Vin as she pushed open the door to the small exam room off her lab. She yelled out, “Tag, I need Raife down here right now!” She knew that Neanderthal had her exam room rigged with his “security” surveillance equipment.

  “Her pulse is thready but present,” Vin said from behind her. She turned to see he’d found a stethoscope and blood pressure cuff and was putting them to use.

  Brit stared at the pale woman on her cart and froze. She needed more time. If Katya died, she would take Raife and her unborn child with her. Brit couldn’t be responsible for three more people dying. A feeling of heaviness crept up her legs into her chest, weighing her down.

  “Raife is on his way, baby. Do you need me?” Tag’s soothing voice in her mind pushed the panic back.

  “Not now.” Brit jerked and looked up at Vin when his voice cut across the mental link between her and Tag. A cool, concise tone replaced that low rumble she’d become accustomed to. “She won’t be able to handle both of us in here. She’s barely hanging on now.”

  “Katya!” The roar resonated through the wall as Raife burst into the small room and skidded to a halt next to his unconscious mate. Kahn and Forestor were right behind him.

  Brit shook herself and yanked the heart monitor from where it was positioned against the wall. “Blood. Give her blood now.”

  Raife didn’t hesitate. He pulled a knife from a sheath at his ankle and slit his wrist open. He pressed the wound to his mate’s mouth and whispered against her temple, “Come on, baby girl. Stay with me.”

  “Make her drink,” Brit ordered as she pulled the heart monitor leads from a drawer in the cart.

  “Her blood pressure is too low,” Vin said and ripped Katya’s shirt open so Brit could apply the leads to her chest.

  “How can I help?” Kahn said from the door.

  “I need a blood sample,” Brit muttered. She needed to check Katya’s levels again. She hadn’t liked the way Katya had looked earlier. Brit should have insisted the woman come to the lab right away, but she’d been so distracted. “There.” Brit pointed to the drawer that held her supplies.

  Vin pressed several buttons on the heart monitor, and a fast, irregular bleep sounded from the machine. Both she and Vin studied the lines across the screen. Katya’s heart was having a hard time keeping up.

  “Doc!” Brit turned, and Raife, pale and drawn, motioned to where blood stained the cream slacks between Katya’s legs.

  “She’s degenerating too quickly.” Brit steepled her fingers together against her lips and watched Raife frantically try to get his mate to drink. Tears stained his angular face. Kahn, Forestor, and Vin were standing there looking at Brit. Waiting. Kahn held the hypodermic in his hand.

  Time slowed as she stared at that needle. Katya was mostly Sanguen, or had been until she’d been genetically altered. Pregnant Sanguen received important proteins when digestive enzymes broke down the blood. But Katya was mated to a Drachon. Her baby would be mostly Drachon. What if the fetus wasn’t getting what it needed through the traditional feeding of the Sanguen? Yet the mutation of the ARSA was breaking down her blood cells faster than she could reproduce them to maintain herself, let alone a fetus. She needed whole blood, not just the proteins she received from feeding from Raife.

  A transfusion.

  Brit burst into action, turning to yank a drawer open and pull out two needles and tubing. She tossed one of the needles to Kahn. “Start a line on Raife. We need to transfuse her now.”

  The three of them established a line directly from Raife’s artery to Katya. Brit watched the clear tube turn dark with blood and checked Katya’s IV site to be sure it was infusing. Once she was satisfied, she yanked open another drawer and pulled out the small Doppler fetal heart monitor.

  God, please let there be a heartbeat. She just needed more time. She’d be able to fix this. Please, just give me more time. Brit unbuttoned Katya’s slacks and pulled them back to put the gel on her lower belly. She slid the wand along Katya’s skin, aware of the sudden stillness in the room and the soft sounds of Raife begging. She closed her eyes, straining to catch any sound, any indication that the fetus still lived. Relief sent a chill down her arms as the rapid, strong beat of the baby’s heart broke the tension of the room.

  Thank you. Thank you. I’ll find a cure. I can fix this.

  Tag’s voice eased over her mind, settling her. “Easy, baby. You’ll kick this thing’s ass. I know it.”

  “We can do this, love. Let me help you.”

  Brit opened her eyes and looked right into Vin’s, her knees trembling, the handheld monitor clutched to her chest. “This is all my fault.”

  “No, love,” Vin whispered, taking the equipment out of her hand and handing it off to his father. “The Triumvirate did this. You were as much a victim as Katya.”

  Brit fell into those hazel eyes; the soft greens and browns held her. She was so tired, so heavy. Vin was right; she could barely think rationally anymore. She was not only no help, but she could make matters worse in her condition. Her hesitation had almost cost Katya her life and t
hat of her child’s.

  “Your quick thinking saved her.”

  “I just don’t know anymore,” Brit muttered, looking back at Katya and Raife. Vin’s hard chest felt solid against her shoulder where she sagged against him. “I just…I don’t know if I can do this.”

  “Her cardiac rhythm is stabilizing,” Kahn said, placing a big hand on Raife’s shoulder. “I’ll stay with Agent Merrick and help him care for his mate while you care for yours.”

  Brit shook her head. “No, I need to get a sample and check her levels. I don’t know how much time—”

  “Go.” Kahn’s voice resonated with authority. “You cannot help her in your condition. Let my son feed you. Sleep. Then we will confront this together. You are no longer alone, little healer. You are a Drachon.”

  Brit sagged against Vin again, frustrated with the limits of her body.

  “Come, love.” The world tilted. Brit gave a token protest as Vin lifted her even as she laid her head beneath his chin. Maybe she could sleep just two or three hours, and then she would find a solution to the damage the Triumvirate caused.

  Vin’s chest rumbled beneath her cheek, and she closed her eyes, soothed by the rocking of his body as he carried her through the building toward the suite she was forced to share with them. She hadn’t realized she’d dozed off until she was jerked awake when Vin transferred her to the soft leather sofa in Tag’s suite.

  “Food first, and then you can sleep.” Vin kissed her on the forehead before walking into the kitchenette.

  The chaste kiss was innocent and seemingly inconsequential, but as she touched the spot on her forehead, she realized the acceptance and importance she felt in the act was overwhelming.

  “So tell me what is going on with Katya Schaffer,” Vin called from the connecting room.

  Brit stiffened and went immediately on guard. She was too exhausted to walk the fine line she’d created between the real truth and the assumptions. Everyone assumed the Triumvirate was responsible for Katya’s illness, which was true, but they didn’t understand the depth of responsibility Brit carried for the creation of the genetic research. It was her fault Katya was dying, her fault that Meghann might be suffering too. The guilt sliced into her, and she hunched forward from the force of it.

  She would make it right. There was no other option.

  “Brit?”

  Startled, Brit blinked up at Vin where he stood over her with food. “She’s ill, very, very ill.”

  Vin’s hazel eyes held hers for a long moment, and she feared he was reading her too deeply. She was so tired and too close to letting it all go, to leaning on Vin and Tag. She craved the companionship, the sense of belonging she felt when they crowded her. It made her weak, and neither of them deserved to shoulder her mistakes. For just one instant she hadn’t felt alone, but now the sensation returned with a hollow rush. Despite the ache, it was better this way. Taking a deep breath, she strengthened her barriers and looked pointedly at the sandwich and fruit he held.

  “I haven’t been in a kitchen in a very long time,” Vin said neutrally, his gaze still intent on her, still probing.

  “I’m sure it’s fine.”

  Vin grunted and sat on the coffee table in front of her. He picked one half of a neatly sliced sandwich from the plate and offered it to her. Careful not to touch his hand, Brit accepted the food and bit into it, too aware of his scrutiny—of his proximity. As she ate, she gazed down at her lap, frowning at how his knees hovered closely on either side of hers, making her feel small—protected.

  Vin handed her each piece of fruit, and she was too exhausted to do more than cast him dark looks as she accepted each slice from his fingers. Besides, it was unlikely he would be moved from his—their—chosen course of action. Somehow the two of them had decided to take it upon themselves, without her input or consent, to determine what was best for her. Overbearing Neanderthals. Vin was no different than Tag…and yet somehow he was.

  Vin was still, where Tag was always moving. She never had to guess at Tag’s thoughts and opinions since he never ceased pressing them on her. Not so Vin. He was silent, not even a thought escaping his mind into hers, and yet she sensed his presence there, infiltrating her.

  Yes, infiltrating. Brit tried to think as loud as possible so her opinion of their behavior was not mistaken.

  The full line of Vin’s lips twitched as though he was trying not to grin.

  Brit pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, wincing at how oily it felt. When was the last time she’d slept? Or taken a shower, for that matter? She looked down at her clothing. It had to have been close to forty-eight hours ago.

  Brit stood. “I think I’ll take a quick shower before I nap.”

  He cocked a thick eyebrow at her but didn’t contest her reference to her intention to sleep for only an hour or two. Vin didn’t even bother to suppress his smile when she swatted at his leg to move it out of her way. Instead of shifting his leg away, he stood and leaned closer until even an eyelash couldn’t fall between them.

  Brit gasped, her nipples puckering beneath her wrinkled blouse, and heat pooled in all the pulse points of her body. With a very undignified grunt of frustration, she slapped both hands against his chest to push him out of the way so she could maneuver around him. His low chuckle followed her into the master bedroom, where she slammed the door to cut the arousing sound off.

  Leaning back against the door, Brit pressed a hand to her chest where her heart beat heavy and fast. Damn them. They knew she was in heat and never missed an opportunity to take advantage of the annoying state.

  She felt Tag’s essence flood her mind, tinged with his irksome humor, and she just knew he was going to say something to further fluster her.

  “Just shut up, Taggart,” Brit snarled, and she felt him retreat slightly. Ignoring his lingering humor that suffused her mind, she studied the master bedroom. The bed was massive and dominated the room with its shimmering midnight comforter that looked like it would be so incredibly soft on her bare skin. Arousal flushed parts of her body she didn’t want awakening right now. Good gods, don’t look there. Brit averted her gaze to the two big chests that flanked an antique mirror against one wall. The other wall held two doors. Likely a closet and a master bath. The room was all rich color and dark wood. Her flats sank into the carpeting, it was so thick. She’d heard Drachon liked their luxuries, and Tag’s master bedroom only proved it.

  Tag’s master bedroom. Her gaze flitted over the bed again. Did they expect she would share it with them both? The image of their hard, naked bodies writhing on either side of hers on that dark comforter rushed over her mind, and she gasped at the sudden effect on her body.

  To escape the view of that bed, Brit stumbled forward into a big, lavish master bath with two sinks and a deep bathtub big enough to fit all three of them. And mirrors. They reflected the angles of the dark-tiled walls and floor. They would give her tantalizing views of both men as they flanked her. She’d be able to watch every shift of every muscle as they— Brit shut down the thought with a moan.

  She was never going to survive this.

  “Don’t stop now, baby. I was enjoying it.”

  Brit groaned as Tag’s deep voice rumbled through her mind, and leaned forward to start the shower. Would having two telepathic mates mean she never had another private thought?

  “Pretty much.”

  “Typical,” Brit grumbled and quickly took her shower, schooling her imagination to keep to the business at hand. She at least hoped he didn’t have a camera in the bathroom. By the time she dried and dressed in one of Tag’s T-shirts, she was practically asleep on her feet. Despite her weariness, there was no way she was even looking at that bed again, and she quickly swept by it to peer out into the main living area. It was empty and tantalizingly dim, Vin likely having gone to get some sleep in the guest room.

  The overstuffed leather couch loomed. Brit eased down on the cushions and pulled the blanket draped over the back across her, eyes closing. She j
ust needed an hour or two.

  * * * *

  Brit’s overwhelming guilt for Katya’s condition coated Vin, clinging even when her fantasies slid through his mind, feeling like a stroke against his ever-present erection. Pausing at the door of the suite, Vin pressed one hand against the wall and dropped his head. When the image of him and Tag taking her surrounded by all those mirrors came unbidden to his mind, he gripped his cock through his slacks. Her heat was getting worse, and it called to him.

  And yet under it all she felt a suffocating guilt for an evil that he was responsible for. It was a damn mess that was only going to get worse as Katya grew more ill. If it weren’t the life of one of his own on the line, he might—no—certainly he wouldn’t be willing to let an innocent woman and her unborn child die because he wanted to keep his secrets from Brit? Certainly his humanity was not worn that thin?

  Pushing back from the wall, Vin strode out into the hall and to the elevator.

  “And just where are you going, brother?”

  Vin gritted his teeth against Tag’s sneer of the word ‘brother’ but only said, “I need to speak with Father.”

  The elevator slid open and Vin walked in. “He’s still with Katya and Raife. He says she’s stable for now.”

  “Good.” Vin could feel his brother’s affection for the other woman. “We still have time, then.”

  “Then you’re going to work with the doc on this? Good luck. She’s impossible when she’s this focused on something.”

  Vin snorted as his brother’s presence withdrew from his mind. The woman seemed impossible on principle alone. The elevator doors slid open, and Vin easily found the lab in the maze of halls. He was not surprised the lock on the door clicked when he reached for the handle. As untrusting as he was, Tag would follow his every movement.

  Vin slipped into the patient room adjacent to Brit’s lab and saw that the blonde woman slept with her mate curled around her. Raife lifted his head to flick a narrow glance at Vin but must have decided he wasn’t currently a threat. Raife laid back down, his cheek pressed against his mate’s hair, eyes closed.

 

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