“This isn’t helping, and you know it,” Corbin said, throwing his arm out to encompass the office.
Rowan glanced around the room at the scattered papers and files, the monitors with facts and dates continuously scrolling by on a loop. He’d been trying to make the pieces fit for weeks and all he’d done was manage to give himself daily migraines and a backache from sleeping on the crappy couch. He looked at Corbin with raised brows.
“Do you have any ideas? I’m all ears.”
Corbin gave him a knowing look. “Do you really need me to say it?” When Rowan didn’t reply, he said, “Go talk to her. She can give us intel we don’t have.” He used one hand to indicate the files and monitors. “Maybe what she knows will help all this come together. It’s worth trying, right?”
Rowan remained silent, his jaw clenched. Corbin’s eyes narrowed, and he shook his head.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” His voice had grown hard and he didn’t try to hide his anger now. “Wasn’t it you who got in my face and told me I was an idiot? That life is short?” He took a deep breath and waited for Rowan to look at him before he said. “You’re here. She’s here. That’s what you told me, remember? You have a second chance, Rowan. Why are you so scared of it?”
Rowan sighed and let his eyes close as he leaned back in the chair. When he opened his eyes, they held a kind of determined resignation. “Maybe you’re right,” he said, looking at Corbin’s surprised face. “I know this isn’t helping. I’ve been busting my ass and I’m still right where I started. It’s so frustrating. I feel like it’s right there, but I can’t see it.”
Corbin felt his anger cool as he sat in the chair across from Rowan. “I can’t help you solve all this,” he said. “But I can give you some advice. Your problems don’t go away just because you don’t face them. You need to go see Stella. Even if it’s just for your own peace of mind. I know you have questions for her.”
Rowan nodded as he stared at the desk.
Corbin tried one last time. “The council is bugging Conrad over this,” he said. He felt a bit of satisfaction when Rowan looked at him in surprise.
“The council?” he said. “Why?”
“Beats me,” Corbin said. “Conrad said they want someone to answer for what happened.”
“They want Stella?” Rowan asked, his face drained of color.
“He didn’t say that,” Corbin said. “But it doesn’t take your ability to put things together. They want someone to blame for Hastings getting in here and killing one of our people. If Stella won’t talk to us, they’ll find a way to get her to talk to them. You know how they operate.”
Rowan nodded and seemed to be lost inside his mind. Corbin realized that the conversation was over. He didn’t know if he’d really gotten through to Rowan or not, but he’d said what he came to say. It was up to Rowan now. He stood, preparing to leave.
“I’m here if you need anything,” he said. “You’ve always been there for me. I’m not going anywhere.”
Rowan didn’t look up from the desk, but Corbin heard him mumble, “Thanks” as he left the office. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected from the confrontation with Rowan, but he hoped that something he said had gotten through to him.
Chapter Six
Conrad called a meeting later that morning to discuss Sawyer’s revelations with the rest of the team. Usually Rowan was present at these meetings, but he hadn’t been in his office or his quarters, so Conrad and Gwynn proceeded without him.
Rylee, Jon, Sawyer, Corbin, Declan and Bree filed into the conference room, and they each took a seat around the massive table. Bree couldn’t help feeling nervous as she always did in this room. She wondered if that would ever go away. She’d been here nearly four months and for the most part, she was comfortable with everything and everyone here. But something about meetings in the conference room always unnerved her. It felt like being called to the principal’s office. Not that Bree had ever been called to the principal’s office, but she imagined it was the same.
She wondered what the meeting was about as she scanned the faces of her teammates. Corbin looked stoic, as usual. Sawyer wore her closed-off expression that said even if she knew what was going on, she wasn’t saying. Her parents had walked here with her and Declan and had asked if they’d had any information. They clearly didn’t know what was going on any more than she did. Once everyone was seated, they all turned their attention to Conrad who remained standing.
Conrad took a moment to meet each person’s individual gaze as he looked around the room. Bree resisted the urge to squirm. She knew Conrad was a good man and that he could be friendly, but he still made her nervous at times like this. It was impossible to forget that he was the highest authority in this place.
He took a deep breath and said, “Last night, some information came to light that I wanted to share with you all. I don’t know what it all means, but it pertains to members of your team, so I thought you should all know.”
Bree sat up a little straighter in her seat, wondering what information Conrad might have found and how he’d come across it. That was when she noticed Rowan’s absence. Strange. He was always at these briefings. She pushed the thought aside and focused on Conrad’s words.
“Sawyer?” he said, surprising everyone. “You want to take it from here?”
All eyes in the room went to her. Sawyer looked resigned as she nodded and stood. She looked at each person’s face, meeting their gaze. She took a deep breath and began speaking.
“While I was looking for all of you,” she said, “I was contacted by someone asking for my help. Rafe Wilks wanted me to give him information on Ephraim’s safehouses. He was looking for a particular one, but he wouldn’t tell me more than that.”
“I didn’t want to just hand over the information without knowing what he planned to do with it. He might have saved my life, but I wasn’t sure he could be trusted. I agreed to take him to one of the safehouses, but only if I went with. I figured I could keep an eye on him that way.”
Bree’s brows went up at that. It seemed reckless to go to an unknown location with someone she didn’t trust for reasons she didn’t know. What had Sawyer been thinking? Then she remembered the way Sawyer was when she’d first met her. She’d been haunted, angry and ready to fight anyone who got in her way. She’d been mourning, Bree knew now. She probably hadn’t been thinking straight.
“I know it was stupid,” Sawyer said as though reading Bree’s thoughts. “It’s something I’ve already told myself a hundred times. It was reckless, and I shouldn’t have gone. But now I’m glad I did.” She looked around the room and her gaze lingered on Declan for just a moment longer than the others. “When we got there, we found medical equipment. The place was almost set up like a mini hospital. I didn’t know what most of the stuff was, but Rafe did and he didn’t seem happy about what he was seeing.” She took a deep breath and let it out. Bree had the feeling she was working her way up to something.
Sawyer said, “There was an office with a lot of files. Personal history, old photos, medical history. It didn’t make any sense, but Rafe and I grabbed what we could of it and left before anyone knew we were there. I got the feeling he knew more than he was letting on, but he wouldn’t tell me anything. I looked through some of the files, but without knowing what I was looking for, it was just a bunch of useless information. I left it with Rafe and went back to looking for you.
“It wasn’t until we got to your house, Bree, that I remembered those files. When Declan asked what all of this had to do with the two of you, I thought back to those files and wondered if maybe there was something there that would connect the dots.” She looked around the room at the rest of her team before she met Declan’s eyes. “The box of information I brought you was one we found that night. I went to Rafe and we searched through all the files until we found the stuff on your parents. I read through it all, but it didn’t seem important to anyone except maybe you. It was all just family history. So, I b
rought it to you. I thought it might help you find some answers, if nothing else.”
Bree looked from Sawyer to Declan, her expression one of surprise and confusion. She’d known that Ephraim wanted the two of them dead, but they’d never had any clue as to why. Nothing they’d done so far had brought them any closer to answers. This new information just led to more questions.
“What does he want with Declan? And why is information on his parents important to Ephraim?” Bree asked, turning back to Sawyer and then to Conrad. They both wore matching expressions of concern, but neither had an answer for her.
“I wish I knew,” Sawyer said, her voice soft. “I swear, that’s all I know. I’m sorry I kept it from you, but at the time we were operating on a need-to-know basis. I never thought we’d be where we are now.”
Bree studied Sawyer’s face for a moment. She could read the sincerity in her eyes. Sawyer was worried that she’d angered them. Bree didn’t think she was angry, exactly. She was more concerned about what this meant for Declan.
“Why are you telling us this now?” she asked.
“I spoke to Stella yesterday,” Sawyer said, further surprising them. “She told me a few things, but the big takeaway was that Rafe was the reason she didn’t die when we thought she did. He’s been Ephraim’s captive for years. He healed Stella so that Hastings could use her to do Ephraim’s dirty work.”
Bree’s hand came up to cover her mouth. She couldn’t imagine what Stella and Rafe had been through. To be forced to use your ability to do the work of your enemy was probably worse than death. She thought of Rafe saving her father and asking for nothing in return. She wondered where he was now.
Declan had been silent since they’d arrived, but now he leaned forward to speak. His brows were lowered, and he looked thoughtful.
“We should find Rafe,” he said, looking up to meet Sawyer’s gaze. “You said he seemed to know more than he was letting on. He’s our best source of information aside from Stella. We should start trying to locate him.”
Bree thought over everything she’d just learned. Declan’s idea made sense. Rafe was someone who had inside knowledge of Ephraim’s operation. He might be able help them piece together the rest of the puzzle.
“Declan’s right,” she said. “Rafe knows more than we do. We should try to contact him.” She looked at Sawyer. “You called him that day after the motel. Can you contact him now?”
Sawyer was shaking her head before Bree finished speaking. “That number isn’t any good now. It’s been disconnected. I don’t have any way to get in touch with him.”
Bree felt Declan take her hand in his and looked over at him. He gave her a reassuring smile, but she thought she detected a bit of worry in his eyes. She wondered why Ephraim had a file on Declan’s parents and what the medical equipment meant. With everything she’d learned about Ephraim since coming into this world, the possibilities terrified her. She squeezed Declan’s hand and tried to return his smile, even as a feeling of dread bloomed inside her.
The discussion went on for several minutes with everyone coming to the same conclusion. Unless they found Rafe or Stella became more cooperative, they didn’t know what their next move should be. They were stuck waiting for Ephraim to make a move and no one was happy with that notion. Eventually, Conrad dismissed the group with the promise that he’d let them know if any new information came to light.
Chapter Seven
If she squinted her eyes just right and used a bit of imagination, the water stain on the ceiling of her cell resembled a silhouette of Elvis Presley. Okay, it required a lot of imagination. Still, it was something to do. Her mind played her Jailhouse Rock and she felt an insane urge to giggle at the absurdity of that. Maybe she was losing it. How long had she been here? She’d lost all sense of time since they’d put her in this cell. She didn’t know if Conrad had been coming to see her only once a day or more often. She thought maybe her mother had been visiting at least twice a day, but everything had blurred together at this point. She didn’t know why it even mattered. She knew she was probably never leaving this place. That much seemed to be a given. She let her eyes drift closed, blocking out the sight of the Elvis water stain.
When Stella heard the door to the outer room open and then close, followed by the sound of footsteps, she didn’t open her eyes. It would be Conrad or her mother again. Aside from the guard who brought her meals and the single visit from Sawyer, they were the only people who ever came. How long had it been since Sawyer’s visit? Had that been yesterday or the day before? She didn’t know, and she told herself again that it didn’t matter. Time wasn’t important in here. Not really. She kept her breathing slow and even, feigning sleep. Whoever the visitor was hadn’t spoken yet and she found herself wondering who it was. She tried to tell herself that it didn’t matter. She would ignore them as she always did. It was easier than facing the accusation she knew she’d see in their eyes.
“I know you’re awake.”
The sound of his voice hit Stella like a fist in her gut. Rowan. He was here. He’d finally come. She felt her throat tighten and swallowed back the tears that threatened. Her heart raced, and her brain seemed incapable of forming a coherent thought. She’d been waiting for him to come see her since the day they’d put her here. She had only a hazy recollection of that day. Her mind had still been emerging from the fog she’d lived in after so many months under Hastings’ mind control. She’d spent so long not trusting her own thoughts that part of her questioned whether she’d only imagined him speaking just now. Maybe she really was losing her mind. That thought scared her enough to make her turn toward the window and open her eyes.
He was standing there on the other side of the transparent barrier, one hand resting on the back of the chair. The other was shoved deep in his pocket. His black-rimmed glasses sat perched on his nose, hiding his eyes from her. His hair was too long. She had the fleeting memory of running her fingers through it all those months ago, smiling up at him, telling him it was time for a trim. Her fingers curled into a loose fist as she remembered how he’d taken her hand in his and pressed his lips to her palm. At the time, it had been a small gesture, a thing he’d done a hundred times before. It was such a simple thing, really. Teasing one another, smiling, a quick kiss goodbye. It was their routine when she left for missions. A way of keeping things light, not focusing on the possibility that she might not come back. In the months since, she’d replayed every second of those last minutes with him, holding onto the last time she’d felt happy. She sat up on the edge of the hard bunk and studied him, noting the changes in his appearance.
She thought he looked a bit thinner. He was wearing that awful shirt she’d always hated. She’d teased him that a grown man shouldn’t have cartoon turtles on his clothing, but he’d only laughed it off. She thought maybe it was a little looser on his frame now, but she didn’t know how many of her memories she could trust these days. She wondered if he’d worn that shirt to purposely annoy her. Stupidly perhaps, she hoped that was the case. His face wore an expression she recognized. He was studying her, trying to make things fit into the strange patterns only he could see. She didn’t speak. She wasn’t certain she even could, now that he was here. She’d wanted nothing other than to see him for months and now that he was standing before her, she had no idea what to do or say. The silence between them stretched on for several minutes before Rowan finally cleared his throat and spoke. When he did, she was startled by the formality in his tone.
“Any information you might have about Ephraim, his plans, or his operation would be greatly appreciated.” He wasn’t looking at her. He seemed to be focusing on some spot just over her left shoulder. She tried not to let that anger her, but she felt the annoyance creeping in.
“What sort of information do you think I have?” She tried to keep her tone as formal as his had been, but even she could hear the slight edge to her words. If Rowan noticed it, he didn’t let on.
“During your time with Ephraim, where
were you kept?” his words were clipped, and Stella felt her annoyance pass the threshold into full-blown anger. What the hell was wrong with him?
She stood and walked across the cold concrete on bare feet. She stopped directly before the large window and folded her arms across her chest. “I was in a cell a lot like this one,” she bit off. “But the bed was more comfortable.” She looked directly at him, willing him to meet her gaze, but he continued to stare at a spot behind her. She ground her teeth in silent frustration.
“So, you were a prisoner?” Rowan asked with that same detached curiosity. Stella was officially pissed. Had he thought she’d stayed gone for so long by choice? Did he think she’d been willingly working with Ephraim to hunt down her own kind?
“What?” She demanded and this time, there was no mistaking the anger in her voice. “Is that what you think of me? That I just switched sides? That I abandoned my entire life and everyone I loved for a chance to what? Be Ephraim’s slave? Be a mindless killer with no control over her own thoughts, let alone her own body? Was I a prisoner? If you have to ask me that, you don’t know me at all.” She spun around and stalked over to the low chair and sat with her back to the window and Rowan. She couldn’t remember ever feeling so angry, so lost, so hurt. She waited for the sound of the door opening, telling her that he was leaving. After a full minute passed without the telltale sound, Stella swiveled around to face him.
He’d sat down in the chair. He was leaning forward, shoulders slumped, his elbows resting on his knees. As she watched, he scrubbed his hands through his hair, making a mess of the already messy strands. She felt her anger drain from her as she saw the evidence of his exhaustion. All she wanted to do was go to him and put her arms around him. The fact that she’d likely never be allowed to do so again nearly brought her to tears. Rowan finally raised his head and his eyes locked on hers. She was startled by what she saw there. He was so clearly hurting.
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