She tried not to shrink back at the intensity of his gaze. Not because she was afraid of him, but because it took everything she had not to throw herself into the security of his embrace. The only secure place in the world that she knew of right now. Some part of her mind registered that the reason she’d slept so wel the whole day before was that Merek had been there, holding her hand, murmuring quiet, soothing encouragement whenever her eyes cracked open. Her fingers flexed as she remembered the slight cal uses on his palm.
No. She wouldn’t let herself rely on anyone, need anyone. She’d been there and done that, and she wouldn’t go back. She could handle whatever came her way. No matter how much it scared her. Clinging to him for comfort stopped now. She lifted her chin. “I meant exactly what I said, Detective. They didn’t get any information from me about the Desmodus Werewolf Project.”
“How is that possible?” He looked incredulous, but the expression softened to one of sympathy as if she were a smal child in deep denial. “The spel s they were using . . . Sweetheart, there’s no way you have the kind of training to withstand—”
She held up her hand, ignoring the fact that her hands and wrists stil showed signs of what the terrorists had done to her. “I’m not talking about Magickal commando training to ward off black magic or torture spel s or whatever. My training, my expertise, is in potions. I formulated a magic potion to erase certain portions of my memory that pertain to the specific details of this project.” She let her hand drop to her lap. “If I go more than a week or two without taking it, it wil wear off, but since work is basical y a daily event, I have to take a counter potion every morning when I arrive at Desmodus.”
His gaze sharpened. “Why would you do al that? Did you suspect—”
Again, she cut him off. “I didn’t suspect a thing. For me, it’s standard procedure, and it’s approved by my superiors. If the potion wasn’t so complex to create, they’d probably make it mandatory for al their employees. The projects I work on are subject to industrial espionage. We have people working round the clock on security—Magickal beings who are recruited from the special Magickal branches of the military and secret services.”
“I know this.” He folded his arms, towering over her from the end of the bed, his gaze stil steely. “That doesn’t explain why you were drugging yourself, Doctor.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, mimicking his pose, then rol ed her eyes when his gaze zeroed in on her breasts. “Would you want to be the one who gave up vital information on a project the Vampire Conclave has invested bil ions of dol ars in developing?”
He shifted his stance, wincing. “No.”
The Vampire Conclave was not a nice bunch of people. They didn’t suffer fools, and Chloe didn’t ever want them to think she was a fool they’d been suffering. She shuddered just considering the kinds of things they could do to her. Ruining her career would be just the start. “So, when the officers told me they’d have to bring me into MTF Headquarters for questioning and it might take a while, I took the potion. After everything else that happened, I’m more convinced than ever that it’s safer for me and for Desmodus if I use my concoction. I can’t tel anyone what I don’t know, and when I’m not at work, I don’t know enough to be a danger to the project.”
Calculation flashed in his gray gaze. “Smith and his people don’t know that.”
“Obviously.” She shrugged, stil relieved that moving didn’t hurt the way it had the night before. “And if they’d asked how to make the counter potion, they’d know how to make me remember. As it is, they got nothing they could use. Even if they did have the information on how to create my potion, they’d have to have someone with the same level of expertise as I have with potions.”
He unfolded his arms and slipped his hands into his pockets. “How many people in the world are there who could do that?”
“Not many.” She forked her fingers through her hair, wincing when she felt how stringy it was from dried sweat. Gods, she needed a shower. “The Conclave hires the best in their respective fields, so . . .”
“Yeah.” He frowned, brows contracting. “Wel , this is both good news and bad news.”
“Yeah, they’re going to keep coming after me thinking they just need to torture harder.” Alex had drifted over to stand by the window, obviously hoping silence would keep him from being kicked out during the adult conversation, but now he made a strangled noise in the back of his throat. She closed her eyes, but forced herself to continue. “But if you circulate that I take a potion and can’t remember no matter what they do, it’l just encourage them to find someone who can recreate my counter potion. If they just experimented on me until they got it right . . .”
Now it was Merek’s turn to choke. “That’s not a possibility we’re going to consider.”
She met his gaze, dared him to look away. “You may not, but you can bet your ass Luca would use it as a way to draw them out of hiding. That agent is ruthless under al the charm.”
A muscle twitched in his jaw, but he said nothing to contradict her. Luca might be his col eague, but he obviously understood the cold-blooded core in the vampire. Chloe would rather not be his sacrificial lamb.
Alex interjected for the first time. His gaze was fixed on something out the window. “There are other ways they could get the information, even without you, Chloe.”
“Wel , yeah, they’d have to perform those kinds of spel s on me when I’m at work or find a way to hack . . .”
A horrible, ugly suspicion ripped through her mind. She focused on Alex, on the closed, composed features of his young face. “Alexei Mohinder Nemov, I think you have a lot of explaining to do.”
His gaze didn’t flicker; his voice was steady. “What should I explain, Chloe?”
“Tel me why they wanted to kidnap you.” She sat up straight in bed, folding her arms, and arching an eyebrow. “Suddenly, I don’t buy that they want to use you as bait for your father. You know something.”
His lips twitched for just an instant. “How could I know anything?”
“How could you—” She cut herself off, unwil ing to dance around the main question. “Damn it, Alex, did you hack into my files?”
He didn’t blink, didn’t show even a glimmer of remorse. “Yes.”
“Fuck.”
“This Smith guy would have to be real y good to figure out it was me that accessed those files.” His head cocked, eyebrows drawn together in consideration. “If he knows, it’s a good bet Desmodus knows now, too.
There goes my internship.”
Like that was the most relevant conclusion he could have come to. Chloe let her head drop back. “Fuck.”
Merek watched the conversation flying back and forth like a tennis match. “There had to be a lot of files.
He probably doesn’t remem—”
“He’s a computer genius, Merek. He also has a photographic memory.” She raised her head and rubbed a hand over her brow. “He remembers everything he saw in my files, so even if he has no idea what it means, he can sure as hel recreate the data for someone who does.”
Or be forced to recreate it, though she didn’t say that out loud and neither did he. Everything had just gotten a hel of a lot more complicated.
“Fuck.”
She let her hand flop down. “You said it.”
He opened his mouth to speak again, but the door swung wide, and Luca and Tess walked in the room, fol owed by an agent who’d been at Chloe’s house the night before. Warlock, she’d guess. He didn’t have the points to his ears that elves did, the odd energy that Fae did, or the animalistic edge that vamps and wolves had. The man nodded politely. “Ma’am. I’m Special Agent Jack Laramie.”