“Live for me. Swear it.”
The raw whisper echoed in his memories, forcing air into his lungs. And he’d sworn it, could almost hear the ragged words that had been torn from his lips that night. He’d promised to cling to life, to not retreat completely into the nothing of the veil. Gideon gathered the blackness choking him and pulled it tightly into a hard knot in his chest. He’d found a new reason to live.
To kill the man responsible for his mate’s death.
“VINCENT, I SINCERELY hope you’ve called me here for a very good reason.”
Vin ground his teeth. Always smooth with a cold half smile, Irial Carrick turned to face him, and for once Vin wanted to smash his fist into the other man’s face. “Did you know she still lived?”
One pale brow rose. “I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific.”
“Don’t play games with me, Irial,” Vin spat out. “Brit’s sister. Did you know she survived?”
For the span of one heartbeat, the mask slipped and Vin could see the starkness in his old friend’s eyes, but it soon disappeared and the icy reserve was back. “At first? No. And neither did they.” Irial paced away from him in even, slow steps and reached out to absently riffle through papers on his desk. “She was pronounced dead and sent to the incinerator with her parents.”
Vin stared at Irial in shock. He reached into his jacket and pulled out the stills Tag had printed from the security footage. He threw them on top of the papers the other man was fingering. Meghann’s image filled the first sheet. “Well, she was obviously not incinerated.”
Irial glanced at the image, the barest of shudders moving through his tall frame. “Obviously.”
Vin frowned. Although Irial was very good at concealing his emotions and thoughts, Vin could still discern the barest taint of regret emanating from him.
“She was reacquired two years ago when she attempted to kill the Triumvirate.” A small smile teased the corner of Irial’s lips as he ran his long fingers over the image. “She actually injured one, and I truly believe they may fear her. They gave the esteemed Dr. Rupple free rein to experiment on her as he saw fit, no restrictions.”
Vin cursed. “Did you orchestrate her escape from the lab?”
A crease appeared on Irial’s forehead, and his glacial eyes met Vin’s, the surprise a mere flicker before that small smile returned. “I assumed she was now safely ensconced at Incog with your enterprising little doctor.”
Vin growled, and his dragon rippled beneath his skin. It was edgy from being so far from their mate, and he sure as hell didn’t blame it. “Don’t fuck with me, Irial.”
A genuine chuckle rumbled from the other man. “Didn’t just fall down at your feet, did she, my friend?”
That was an understatement, and one that Vin resented. “Don’t worry about my mate, Carrick. I’ve got it under control.”
Irial cocked one brow, the cold smile back. “As you say.”
Vin narrowed his eyes but ignored his sarcasm in favor of reaching out to fan the other photos across the desk. He wanted this over with so he could get back to Brit. “When the lab was taken and Brit’s sister was not there, my brother located her on the security feeds he recovered. She, along with these women, was moved only minutes prior to the raid, and then they all just vanished.”
Irial touched the images again, pausing over one. Irial’s shock and anger burst over Vin in a single wave that retracted just as abruptly. Vin dropped his gaze to see what had triggered such a reaction in the usually controlled man. The photo Irial lingered over was of a wisp of a woman with blonde hair and vacant eyes.
“All of the women disappeared?” Irial asked tightly.
“Yes,” Vin answered, studying his friend. “When Incog raided the lab, Dr. Rupple attempted to leave with Brit through a hidden access in his personal lab. We assumed the same of these women. I had hoped you were responsible.”
“No, my friend,” Irial said, “I am responsible for a great many things, but this I cannot claim.”
Vin cursed again. He was doing that a lot lately. Tag’s use of profanity was rubbing off on him, or perhaps it was a side effect of being so close to their stubborn mate. Vin favored the latter. The woman was going to drive them over the edge.
“Can you find out if the Triumvirate relocated them and where?”
Irial shook his head, letting his hand fall away from the photos. “I’m fairly positive the Triumvirate is not responsible for their disappearance. Dr. Rupple was livid with the loss of Dr. Mahoney and her sister.” His smile was glacial. “The Triumvirate has ordered tighter security.”
Hell. Vin rammed his fingers through his hair and paced away. If the Triumvirate hadn’t relocated the women, then where were they? Better yet, who had them? Damn. He wanted to give Brit back something of what she’d lost because of him. Now all he had to offer was more loss.
“I do know,” Irial added, breaking into Vin’s thoughts, “that the Rebels infiltrated those labs. The annoying bastards have gotten more organized.”
Vin, musing aloud, said, “Katya did say she thought Rebels attempted to remove her from the lab before Raife got to her. She recognized a woman in the security footage.” Vin bit off a curse. “It was that woman who arranged their movement. It had to be the Rebels.” Damn. How were they supposed to discover what the Rebels did with Meghann and the others?
Their photos glared up at him from Irial’s desk in accusation. “How had they known the exact moment to move those women in order to stay ahead of Incog?”
“If that was a question for me, I’d say it sounds as if Mr. Forestor needs to tidy up the place a bit,” Irial murmured.
Fuck. Irial was right. It looked as though Incog may have someone giving information to the Rebels. Kyeros Forestor already distrusted him. Vin could just imagine the Guardian’s reaction when he tried to convince him there was a Rebel spy in his operation. It looked as though he and Tag would be having that talk sooner than later.
“I need to get back.” Vin sighed. “Contact me if you discover any useful information.”
Irial nodded and moved the photo of the blonde woman to the top before handing the images over to Vin. “If you recover the women, the Trust has a vested interest in this particular woman.”
Vin studied the image for a moment and then replaced the grouping back in his jacket. He didn’t ask. After twenty years he’d learned not to. “Be safe, my friend.”
Irial inclined his head. “Likewise.”
Cold resolution and dread coalesced in Vin’s stomach as he carefully made his way back to the towering Incog building. He needed Tag’s help—and his partnership, but how much could he afford to tell his brother without betraying the members of the Trust? How could he afford not to tell him everything? Vin suspected nothing less than the absolute truth would close the breach between them, or it could deliver the final blow that would sever what was left of their connection. Hell, Tag deserved more than the truth. He deserved Vin’s trust, and he hadn’t trusted anyone in a very long time.
Even the prospect of it made him break out in a cold sweat. But did he really have a choice? A life with Tag and Brit, or the solitary silence he’d condemned himself to for the last twenty years? There wasn’t a choice. Brit was right. He needed to make a conscious choice to live his life, and that meant risking everything.
* * * *
Tag’s last view of the doc before he was summoned by Forestor was of her immersed in her lab with his father. Her brain was firing in that way that made it too difficult to follow her thoughts, but his father had assured him they were following up on her intuition that could be a major breakthrough on healing Katya. That meant his little doctor would be at it until she found the answers she was looking for.
As he walked into Forestor’s office he made a mental note to bring her food, or else she wouldn’t eat. She was running on three days with only a handful of hours of sleep and most likely the same number of meals.
“What’s up, boss?” Tag asked as he frowned at Gideon standing silent and seething off to one side. The dark man’s thoughts and emotions were closed off as usual, but there was a menacing aura around him that hadn’t been there before.
“I’ve got a dilemma,” Forestor said smoothly. He was behind his desk, facing the window, hands clasped at his back. “I was certain I understood your family dynamic, but I’m afraid a new development has shaken my certainty.”
“My family dynamic,” Tag repeated, his dragon surging at the veiled insult. “I’m not sure I understand or appreciate what it is you’re saying.”
Forestor turned to face him. His eyes bled black for moment as his power pulsed in the room. A warning. A reminder of the respect he expected from his people. “Do you know any reason why your brother would be meeting with a high official of the Triumvirate?”
A stillness settled over Tag as he processed the question. They were so close to completing their mating. If Vin was in league with the Triumvirate, could he be waiting until the mating was complete to trap the doc? If she were pregnant and needed Vin to maintain her pregnancy, would she willingly follow him to the Triumvirate? Would Tag?
His dragon was torn. It wanted to trust that his other half wouldn’t betray him and risk their mate, and yet it was infuriated by the possibility that he would. The contradiction had it surging and writhing too close to the surface. Tag’s eyes flickered into hunting vision in the long moment it took to gain control of his dragon.
“I see the consequences are not lost on you,” Forestor murmured. “And because I trust your honor and your dedication to protect your mate, I will give you twenty-four hours to determine what game your brother is playing at. I’m sure you appreciate the untenable position I am currently in with the Drakes in residence.”
Tag nodded curtly, his fury carefully banked. “I appreciate the courtesy. I will take care of it.”
Forestor nodded. “This is not a dilemma I am eager to face.”
If Tag’s brother intended to put his doc at risk, there wouldn’t be a dilemma.
Brother or not, Tag would kill him.
* * * *
When Vin stomped into Brit’s lab, he found Tag standing imperiously over Brit while she ate. The combined scent of their hormones swirled in the room, making every muscle in his body clench as though an electric current passed through it. In a rush of blood, his cock strained against his slacks. The memory of her so wet and so damn hot surrounding him rose up in his consciousness. The silky soft slide of her thighs over his was a ghostly sensation that had him shifting his weight restlessly.
Vin took shallow breaths to control it, willing his dragon back as he looked away from his mate’s glossy lips, damp from the melon she loved. In the bed, Katya sat up with a tray of food rolled up to her lap, fighting with Raife for control of the spoon. They all froze and stared at Vin when he walked through the door. Tag’s eyes glinted with fire.
“We need to talk,
brother
.”
The last word dripped with contempt.
Brit narrowed her blue eyes, a piece of melon poised at her lips, and glared at him and Tag. “If you intend to pound your chests, please take it out of my lab.”
Tag’s fiery gaze swung to Brit, and Vin was aware of the faint static that indicated his brother was speaking to her.
“Do not threaten me, Taggart.” Brit brandished the fork with the piece of melon skewered on the end of it. “I can and will drug you again.”
Brit gasped when Tag buried his hand in her hair, some of the dark red tresses falling free from the clip. Vin’s heart slammed against his chest, sending blood to his groin in a painful rush as he watched his brother glide his tongue over their mate’s lips, tasting her. The musk in the room was nearly suffocating.
“Now is not a good time to remind me of that, baby,” Tag hissed and snagged the melon off her fork with a snap of his teeth before walking out the door.
Vin cast a glance at their flushed mate as he followed his brother out. He didn’t have the control to even get near her right now. He’d handle his brother first and then, hopefully, they would tackle Brit together.
Tag stood, arms at his sides, fists clenched. “Why were you meeting with the Triumvirate?”
Vin blinked. “What are you talking about?”
“Did you think Forestor wouldn’t be all over you the minute you left the damn building? Your tail followed you right to your little meeting with a fucking Triumvirate agent.” Tag spun away, rubbing at his buzzed head.
His meeting with Irial. Of course they would think Irial worked for the Triumvirate. That was the point. He was going to have to risk another message to his friend and warn him the Trust’s entire operation in San Francisco might be compromised. How in the hell had he been followed? He was always careful.
“Nothing to say,
brother
?” Tag slapped the flat of one hand against Vin’s shoulder, rocking him back.
Vin ground his teeth, Irial momentarily forgotten. Every time Tag called him brother in that tone, he wanted to roar. The memories of growing up alongside Tag had helped sustain him these past hellish years, and with that one word, his twin could reduce their relationship to a mockery.
“Are you still fucking working for the Triumvirate?” Tag snarled. His fury radiated off him like a heat vapor. He slammed both hands against Vin’s chest this time.
Vin stumbled back a step. Blood rushed to his head, throbbed against his temples, pushed against his eyes, and the cold blues of his hunting vision devoured the lab. Vin focused on the only flush of crimson in the room. His brother.
Enough was enough.
Chapter Eighteen
“I have never worked for the Triumvirate.”
Tag’s vision slid into hunting mode reflexively. His dragon rose up in response to Vin’s. All the metal in the doc’s lab undulated around him in a sea of cool blues. In front of him, Vin’s body heat was a violent red creating a halo around him. It was a beacon for Tag’s fury.
He wanted the cold bastard to feel it. Fuck, he wanted to shove it down his throat and make him choke on it.
“You’re a fucking liar, Vin.”
Tag relished the flex of muscles as he stalked around his brother. The dragon pressed against his control, and he felt it bleed through his humanity, coloring him, and it felt good—satisfying. Vin was the one who had walked away, severing the link between them as though it had meant nothing. That had been fucking agonizing—had made him vulnerable and small. Tag hated Vin for that. Even now the damn grief of that loss had the power to suffocate him.