Ch. 311..320

Chapter 311

When I wake up it’s almost eight at night and I groan, realizing that my sleep schedule is

completely wrecked. I’m reminded, suddenly, of my years as a medical resident when this sort of thing was normal – sleeping all day, taking night shifts, living moment to moment rather than a steady, scheduled life.

And quite frankly, right now? That sounds really wonderful, compared against a whole night of empty hours in which I have nothing to do but… think.

Think about what I’m doing in my life, think about my career which has gone in a really weird direction, think about my relationship…s.

About a certain kiss in the woods.

About a sweet doctor who, apparently, wants to build a life with me.

I sigh and sit up, looking around at my sterile little apartment. I never really decorated, I realize as

I look around at the grey and beige furniture, the simple linens, the charmless curtains. Everything is functional and high quality but none of it is… me?

Or is it?

I frown at my space, thinking of Ella’s sweet home that – even though Sinclair picked out most of the furniture before she moved in – still sings Ella Ella Ella in every corner. It’s warm and sweet

and comfortable. What does my space say about me?

I mean, I’m an orphan – I never had any possessions or any control over the environments in

which I lived, so where would I have learned to decorate? I never had a mother to show me how

So where did Ella…

I groan, rolling my eyes at myself, sick, again, of being jealous of my sister.

I love her so, so much – and I’m so happy she has what she wants in her life. But sometimes she’s just so….perfect. That it makes me realize how unhappy I am, when I stand next to her.

I roll over, reaching for my phone, seeking some kind of distraction from these disquieting- thoughts. But when I pick it up the first thing I see is one of those relationships I’m trying to avoid leaving me an assortment of messages. I sigh and click open my message app.

Hank: Hey, Cora – how did the baptism go? Dinner later?

Hank: Cora? You okay?

2

Hank: Hey, send me a text when you get up – I know you were up all night but I’m worried that I

haven’t heard from you.

Sighing, I swipe the messages away and click through the rest of my phone, trying, determinedly,

to not let it bother me that there’s nothing at all from Roger. Not a peep. As I take a deep breath and check my email, another message from Hank pops up.

Hank: Hey, are you home? I’m… I mean, this is a little pathetic, but I’m outside. Can you let me in? I

your apartment door…

My heart twinges a little bit when I see that. Hank. He’s being so sweet and I’m…well, I’m not being fair to him, am I?

Ella’s right. I’m holding a space for Roger, one he doesn’t even want – despite what might have passed between us last night, it doesn’t change anything. And there’s a man standing outside my door with mooshoo pork, dying to love me.

God, what’s wrong with me? Quickly, I jump out of my bed and dash for the front door of my apartment.

When I get to it, I yank it open, hoping

Hank jumps a little, his eyes going wide, accidentally dropping the large bag of Chinese on the little mail table I keep outside my door. “Gah!”

“Hi!” I say, bright, cheerful – maybe too bright, too cheerful. “I’m so sorry,” I continue, smiling at him, “I just woke up – we were up all night. It’s – I’m very sorry. I should have texted before I fell asleep.”

“It’s okay,” Hank says, giving me his rare, warm smile. “I get it – you had a busy night.”

“Do you want to come in?” I ask, leaning against my door frame and gesturing towards my little apartment. “I am…well, I am starving,

“Sure,” he says, his lips turning up a bit at the corner. “That sounds great, Cora.”

As we sit on the house, the Chinese spread out around us on the coffee table, eating right out of the containers with the supplied chopsticks, Hank tells me all about his day. He held down the fort at the little free clinic we both work at, seeing both prospective mothers as well as general ailments from humans and wolves who currently don’t have access to their regular healthcare providers.

It was, apparently, a busy day with some tricky cases. I watch Hank closely as he tells me his story, my eyes flicking over his handsome, serious face – his thick brown hair – his strong, capable hands-

And I feel something twist in my stomach as I watch him, something that makes me…well, makes- me want to jump across the couch and kiss him…

“Cora?” he asks, making me blink and focus on him. “Did you hear me?”

“Hmm?” I ask, shaking myself and forcing myself to listen to his words. Then, I grimace a little. I’m sorry, Hank,” I say, giving him an apologetic look. “I got….lost in my thoughts a little bit. Forgive me. Can you start again?”

“It’s okay,” he responds, giving me a little wink and reaching out to grab my hand, squeezing it a bit before sitting back. “I was just curious if you think Ella would want to be more involved in the clinic.”

“I think she’d be dying to be more involved in the clinic,” I respond instantly, looking down at my chicken with broccoli and picking up a morsel. “But she doesn’t have any medical experience. Would she really be helpful there? I think that she would do anything – but she’s got a big heart,

”

need most.”

“I wasn’t thinking about administration,” Hank says, swirling some noodles around his chopsticks. “And it’s true that she doesn’t have medical experience, but she does have…healing experience.”

I cock my head at him, confused.

“Or more precisely healing powers,” Hank clarifies quietly.

“Our mother’s gift?” I ask, raising my eyebrows at him.

He shrugs a little. “It was incredible, what she was able to do to herself twice now. To bring herself out of that coma that should have killed her. And then I saw her, before my eyes, almost instantly heal

wounds that should have incapacitated her for days. If she were able to harness that power… Or, Cora,” he says seriously, meeting my eyes now, “if you were able to harness that power…”

“Oh,” I say, my mouth going to a little “o” as I lower the takeout to my lap. I had honestly never thought of it – of leveraging my mother’s power for the practice of medicine. It seemed somehow… too sacred, too special, to be used to heal bumps and bruises. But could it, should it, be used to cure people on the edge of death, like Ella had been?

Could it be used to fight things like terminal cancer, or deadly wounds?

My skin starts to tingle at the possibilities, but I’m wary. I mean, I gave the gift back to Ella – and our mother gave it to her in the first place. It’s hers to use as she wishes.

But if I had it, would I use it differently than Ella might?

“Sorry,” Hank says softly. “Did I…was it wrong to suggest it?”

“No,” I say, snapping my attention back to him. “Um, but it’s a bigger question than just I can answer. We’ll have to ask Ella.”

“Well,” Hank says with a smile, “now that she’s feeling better, maybe we can have that conversation soon. If the gift can truly heal…she could help a lot of people. Quickly.”

“Yeah,” I say, grinning at him, excited. “And it’s not like she’s got anything else on her plate at the moment.”

“Well, neither do we,” says Hank, pushing his takeout aside and moving across the couch to me, taking the container of food out of my hands and putting it on the table next to me. “At least, not for the next twelve hours or so, until we have to go to work.”

I laugh lightly as he moves his body over mine, bringing his face close to me and slipping a hand behind my back.

“Whatever shall we do?” I murmur, happy as I let Hank use that hand on my back to lay me flat on the couch. Then I close my eyes as Hank brings his mouth to mine.

 

Chapter 312

Hank and I are tangled in the sheets of my bed, talking softly to each other about nothing, when suddenly I hear a pounding on my door – a dangerous, feral, fervent sound.

–

“What the hell is that,” Hank gasps, sitting up and whipping his head to look towards the front of

my apartment.

“I–I don’t know “I stutter, fear racing through me. The pounding halts for a moment and we both sit there, frozen, not knowing what to do. Then, suddenly, a voice breaks through the silence.

“Cora!” it shouts, and my jaw drops a little because…well, because I know that voice. “Open the

damn door, Cora!”

“Oh my god,” I murmur, standing up and wrapping my naked body in my sheets – weirdly bashful in this moment. As I do, the pounding starts again.

“Do you know who it is?” Hank asks, hurriedly getting out of bed and pulling his pants on

“Yes,” I breathe, quickly switching the sheets for my robe hanging on the back of my door and

then rushing through the living room. “It’s fucking…”

But Hank, standing at the doorway to my bedroom, sees for himself the moment I pull the door

open.

Roger’s fist is still raised as my door flies open, but he drops it as he glares down at me.

“God damn it, Cora,” he growls, storming past me into the apartment, “don’t you ever check your

pho-

He freezes and goes silent, though, the moment he sees Hank standing in the doorway to my bedroom, pulling on his shirt. And then Roger turns slowly and looks at me, taking me in from head to toe in my bathrobe. He doesn’t say a word, rendered, apparently, speechless.

“What are you doing here, Roger?!” I hiss, filling the void that his silence left as I slamming the door shut and stalking forward to give him a shove. “You scared the hell out of us!”

“Cora, damn it,” Roger growls, snapping out of his shock and turning his attention to me as he blatantly ignores Hank. “It’s a crisis – Ella and Sinclair have been blowing up your phone for an

hour –”

—

“What?!” I gasp, looking all over – and then finally spotting my phone, wedged between the pillows of the couch. I dash to it and grab it and see that Roger is right that Ella has been calling me for the past hour, as well as sending texts. I quickly flick through them, glancing at Roger as I

1. do.

–

“What’s what’s this all about “I stutter in fear, my heart suddenly in my throat. I can’t grasp the whole situation – but there’s something about Rafe, and kidnapping, and a note “Is the baby –”

–

“He’s fine for now,” Roger growls, moving close to me and wrapping his hand around my upper arm, “but they need you. It’s something about the sperm bank, they think they want to talk to you about what happened that day –”

1100k up at 1, SIUCkEU. Vildt? ne spe

mayo!?

“Yes!” he almost yells. “God, Cora, let’s go – you can ask all of these questions in the car!”

I sense his fury, his worry and his impatience, but all it breeds in me is defiance. “Fine!” I shout.” God, Roger, give me ten seconds! Obviously I’m coming!” I rip my arm from his hand and glare at him as I move towards my bedroom door, giving Hank a not–too–gentle nudge back into the bedroom and closing the door behind us.

“What’s going on?” Hank asks, all steady cool and deliberation. I glance at him, my stomach warming. At least he’s good in a crisis. I hand Hank my phone as I move to my dresser. “Can you give me a summary of Ella’s texts as I get dressed? I can’t do both at once.”

Hank nods, brisk, and does as I ask, reading some of the texts aloud to me, skipping through the ones that he deems less important. Overall I get the gist and my heart wrenches to think of what my sister is going through as I hurriedly pull on some sporty leggings and a t–shirt. After all that she went through with the pregnancy, I had thought this was over for her –

“Cora!” Roger shouts, banging on my door, interrupting one of Hank’s readings. “Seriously!? What’s taking so long! Let’s go!”

“I’m COMING!” I shout towards the door, fed up with his impatience. “God damn Alpha bullshit…” I mutter as I pull on my sneakers, not bothering to tie the laces. Then, I stand up, tucking my hair behind my ears as Hank crosses the room to me and hands me my phone, lifting one hand to my face.

“That’s a pretty good summary of the messages,” he says softly, rubbing his thumb over my cheek and looking into my eyes. “Are you going to be all right? Is there any way I can help?”

“No,” I sigh, lifting my hand to cover his and shaking my head a little. “Thank you, Hank, but –”

“Cora!” The yell and a single pound comes again and I realize, suddenly, that of course Roger has wolf hearing and is using it to spy on our conversation.

I glare at the door, hate in my eyes, but then I nod towards it. “Come on,” I say, moving away from Hank. “We’d better get moving before he rips it down.”

“I’m not going to rip it down,” I hear Roger growl, disgruntled, but I just roll my eyes and pull the door open.

“Ready?” I ask, breezing past him.

“I’ve been ready,” he snarls, walking swiftly to keep up with me. We pass through the door together and then awkwardly wait for Hank to catch up.

“Thanks, Hank,” I say, giving him a smile as I lean down to lock my apartment door. “For the food and… the nice time.”

“Anytime, Cora,” he replies, and I can hear the smile in his voice even as I concentrate on my keys. “You’ll let me know how it goes?”

“Of course I will “I respond, turning towards him, but suddenly I’m almost yanked off my feet by someone grabbing my hand and tugging me with them.

“Oh my god,” Roger groans, hauling me away from Hank and down the hall. “Cora let’s go!”

Let go of me!

Ciy, Smackiу at mane, but it aves mommy. I remember to tum allu wave to Hank as we turn the corner towards the stairs. Hank awkwardly returns my wave as he watches Roger and I disappear.

Roger, predictably, does not let go of me and I almost have to jog behind him as he strides down the stairs and out to the parking lot where his car is still running.

“Is Rafe being kidnapped right now?” I ask, angry, moving fast towards the passenger seat when he lets go of my hand. “What’s the rush?”

“The rush,” Roger replies, glaring at me as he and I simultaneously sink into our seats and close the doors behind us, “is that our nephew is in danger, and our siblings want us there now.”

“Fine,” I reply, sneering at him a bit as I buckle my seat belt. “Drive on. Try not to get us killed on the way.”

Roger doesn’t reply, just peels out of the parking lot and heads down the dark road at breakneck speed. I’m pinned back into my seat but am surprised to find that I’m not at all scared. Somehow, I trust Rodger’s reflexes and his driving skills. I trust that he knows what he’s doing.

“God,” Roger says, rolling down the window and huffing out a breath of disgust.

“What?” I ask, inclined to be angry but curious about what he hell could bother him now. He got me into the car in less than five minutes, didn’t he? What could possibly be wrong?

“You smell like him,” Roger growls, revulsion and…something else thick on his words. “He’s all

over you. Gross.”

I stare at Roger for a second, appalled, and then I can’t help the little smile that creeps onto my lips, despite everything.

“Don’t be jealous,” I murmur, my words barely audible as I turn to look out the window and watch

the scenery pass.

But with that wolf hearing? I know he hears me. And I see the effect of my words in the window’s

reflection as I watch him flinch.

 

Chapter 313

“Ella!” I hear my sister’s voice cry the same moment I hear the front door to the house open. I stand quickly from my seat in Sinclair’s office, Rafe awake and peaceful in my arms, and move to the open doorway.

“Cora!” I call. I see her spin away from the living room where she was looking for me and jog down the hall towards me, Roger closing the house’s main door behind him as he enters as well. Cora takes my shoulders in her hands as soon as she gets close.

–

“Are you

– are you all right?” she gasps, looking me over, and then looking down towards the baby. I can see a little relief come into her face the moment she sees us both before her, intact and safe.

“We’re okay,” I say, giving her a little smile. “For right now, we’re okay. Thank you for coming so late at night.”

My sister snaps her eyes up at me, frowning a little.

“What?” I ask.

“I just…” she says, confused, glancing back at Roger, “I didn’t expect you to be so calm.”

“Well, it happened like, eleven hours ago,” I say, raising my eyebrows at her. “We’ve had some time to process and plan

–

Suddenly she scowls, turning fully to glare at Roger coming down the hall towards us. “The way this one was pounding on my door, flying around like a bat out of hell –”

“More like a bat into hell,” he mutters, his frustrated expression matching Cora’s. “It wasn’t exactly peaceful heading into your apartment, which smelled like wonton soup and –” 1

“Oh shut up,” Cora huffs, narrowing her eyes at Roger and then turning back to me. Roger opens his mouth to retort but I reach out and give him a little shove and turn to my sister. Clearly in a mood, Roger just shakes his head and goes into the office, where Sinclair is still talking to some of

the investigators.

“Ella,” Cora continues when he’s gone, “why didn’t you text me earlier if this happened hours ago? There wasn’t anything on my phone when I woke up from my nap at 9 – and then all of a sudden Roger’s pounding on my door –”

“It’s complicated,” I say, hesitating and looping my arm with Cora’s at the elbow, pulling my sister

close because I know what I’m about to say is going to piss her off. “Sinclair brought in his team of investigators – the ones who were working on the question of the switched sperm sample before

the war – and they wanted to…clear you. Before I was allowed to text you.”

“Clear me?” Cora asks, confused.

“Yeah,” I say, my mouth pulling into a grimace. “As a…suspect.”

“WHAT!?” My sister shouts, her voice ringing out through the house. Rafe flinches and starts to cry, still cuddled in my arm.

i siynı, yiving me an exasperated look as op my am mers al work to settle we baby, bobbing him in my arms. “Obviously Sinclair and I don’t suspect you! But his team needs to be thorough, and you were the last one who we know had the sample! It makes sense, from an investigative standpoint!”

“I can’t believe I was a suspect! After everything!” Cora says, her voice softer now, but no less angry.

“You were a suspect for like, three hours,” I reply, rolling my eyes and wishing to mollify her because, honestly, it was more like six hours. “And obviously you were cleared! So!” I shrug and look at her pleadingly, “maybe move on from it!”

My sister brings both of her hands to her face and covers it, taking a minute to breathe in deeply and then exhale. Then, slowly, she pulls her hands down her face, tucking them beneath her chin in two fists, a gesture I remember from our childhood when she was truly upset.

“You know I would never hurt you, Ella,” Cora says, her voice as pleading as it is insistent.

“Cora,” I say, shaking my head at her, my eyes wide with apology. “You know that I know you have nothing to do with this just….please, let it pass.”

“It’s true, Cora,” Sinclair says, peeking out from the office. “Forgive my investigators – they were just following process and being thorough.”

Cora sighs and I see that she understands. “Okay,” she says, nodding. “I get it. But, what can I do now?”

“We need to go back to that day,” Sinclair says, his hands in his pockets as he slowly walks over to us. “You have more knowledge of it than the rest of us – you were there. We’d like to see if you remember anything from that afternoon that could help.”

“I mean,” Cora says, running a hand through her hair. “Of course – I’ll tell you everything. But don’t your investigators have the notes?” Cora asks, confused, “from the last time we talked? I told you everything I know.”

I give my sister a wide, too–eager smile. “Well…” I say, my voice wheedling as I passes the baby to Sinclair and take both of Cora’s hands. The baby calms almost instantly in Sinclair’s arms. “How do you feel about…trying a little recreational drug common in Vanara!?”

Cora’s face drops along with her jaw. “Are you serious? Ether?” she asks, awed. “Do you – you want

me to do hypnosis?”

“It’s not bad!” I insist, that too–big smile still pasted on my face. “It just makes you remember! And then you’re just a little hungry afterwards, that’s all!”

Cora opens her mouth but she’s interrupted by a knock at the door. I look up at Sinclair, who nods to me, handing the baby back and going to answer it himself. After all, if someone is coming to take our baby they’re going to think twice when they realize that they have to go through my gigantic mate to get him.

And also, they probably wouldn’t knock politely on the front door.

Cora and I watch interestedly as Sinclair opens the door and peeks out, and then opens it wide.‘ Leon!” Sinclair says warmly, inviting the doctor in with a warm handshake. “Thank you so much

”

“You brought the hypnotist in?” Cora whispered to me, awed. “From Vanara?”

“He was already here,” I respond dismissively, waving my hand. “Sinclair had him flown over weeks ago, he’s on call

“For what!”

“Whatever hypnosis needs crop up,” I say, looking at my sister, surprised at the question. Isn’t it obvious?

Cora crosses her arms. “Do you seriously think that’s necessary?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Well,” I say, waving around at the house, indicating our current situation. “Aren’t you glad he did?!”

Cora groans a little and sighs. “Well, sure,” she says, “I’m glad you’ll get your answers, Ella, but I have to say that I’m not looking forward to having to take drugs to do it. You know I don’t like mind -altering things.”

“It’s okay,” I reply, moving close to my sister and giving her a little nudge with my shoulder. “It’s not so bad. You know I appreciate this, right?” I ask, looking into my sister’s eyes, needing her to understand that I’d never ask unless it was necessary.

“Duh, Ella,” she says, crossing her arms and sighing. “Obviously I’ll do it – anything for you. But I’m allowed to wish other methods were possible.”

“Thank you,” I say, coming close to give Cora a little kiss and then taking her arm and pulling her towards the kitchen. “Now come on, let’s go pick out some snacks for after. I’ve got some really good ones…”

 

Chapter 314

“I really must insist,” Leon says awkwardly, looking around at the packed guest bedroom, “that we … thin the crowd. Just a bit.”

“Well, I’m not leaving,” I say, stepping forward and bouncing Rafe in my arms as I look down at my sister laying on the bed. Cora is awkward and uncomfortable as she looks around at the collection of investigators, at Roger, at me, Rafe, and Sinclair, all standing around her. Leon sits primly squeezed into a chair at her side.

“Perhaps…the child?” Leon suggests and I sigh, realizing that he’s right. I turn to Sinclair, my eyes pleading.

“Can you?” I ask.

Sinclair blanches at me. “Ella – I have to be here to hear this

”

“Please,” I say, stepping towards him. “Maybe we can….like, is there a way to make a video feed? Or sound? So you can hear in another room?”

Leon’s eyebrows go up. “That would work,” he says, looking at Sinclair, who nods firmly, reaching out for Rafe.

“I owe you,” I whisper to him, standing on my toes to give him a kiss on the cheek and handing the baby to him. “I can’t leave her.”

“I understand,” Sinclair murmurs back, “I’ll send someone up with AV equipment in a few minutes.” He brushes my cheek with his thumb before signaling to the investigators to leave the room with him. I turn

back to my sister and then blink when I see Roger still standing in the

corner, his arms crossed.

“What are you still doing here?” I ask, surprised.

Roger just stares at me for a moment, apparently appalled that I would ask. “I’m the lead investigator on this, Ella!” he informs me, frustrated, throwing out an explanatory hand. “I need to be here! To ask questions! To guide the investigation!”

“Ooooookay!” I say, putting my hands up placatingly. “I just didn’t know lead investigators were usually so pissy.”

“Pissy!” Roger gasps, leaning forward to me, aghast. “Ella, I –”

“Roger,” Leon says, holding up a hand towards him. “We need a calm environment for this to work, and your level of agitation is…non–conducive.”

Roger stares at Leon, his mouth open, shocked to have been put in his place so politely.

“Yeah,” Cora says, grinning at Roger and wrinkling her nose at him. “So, in other words, stop being so pissy.”

Roger stares between us for a moment and then leans back against the wall with his eyes closed, taking a deep breath and raising a hand to press the bridge of his nose between his fingers.” Sisters…” he mutters, “I am never again spending any time at all with…sisters.”

A younger member of Sinclair’s team enters quietly then, nodding to me and beginning to set up a computer and a microphone on Cora’s far side. He works quickly while Roger composes himself

and Leon prepares the ether shot. I sit down on the end of the bed, putting a hand on Cora’s ankle

– the only thing near enough for me to touch – and mouth “thank you” to her.

She sighs and leans her head back on the pillow, nodding to me and accepting her fate.

“Now Cora,” Leon says, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder that makes her flinch. I

grimace, knowing how tense she is about this. “I know that you’re aware of some of Ella’s

experiences with hypnosis, but everyone’s journeys are a little different. I’m going to give you the

shot, and then I’ll guide you back to your memories of that day. You’ll hear my voice, and then,

when you’ve accessed your memories, Roger will join me in asking you some questions. Is that all

right?”

“Can I stop whenever I want?” Cora asks, looking anxiously up at the doctor. “If I get….scared?”

“Yes,” the doctor assures her, tightening his hand a little on her shoulder. “The antidote is right

here. We will stop whenever you’d like. And if you’d like to give permission to your sister as well,

we can stop whenever she gives the word as well, if she sees that you are in distress. Would you

like to give your sister permission for that?”

Cora nods eagerly and looks at me for confirmation. I slowly bob my head, letting her know that

I’ve got her back, as I always do.

“All right then,” Leon says, smiling around at Cora and Roger and me. “Then let’s get this started,

nice and easy.”

Cora exhales a deep breath and closes her eyes again. She doesn’t flinch at all as Leon presses the

long

I see Cora’s eyes start to flicker, though, a little behind her eyelids as the ether takes over and she

quickly enters a dreamy half–awake state. I watch her, curious, wondering if I looked the same

under Leon’s care. His eyes also on Cora, Roger comes and sits next to me on the bed, wanting to be

closer to the action. I give him a warm little nudge of my shoulder, both in welcome and apology

for teasing him a few minutes earlier. I’m glad he’s here.

“Hello Cora,” Leon says quietly after a few minutes. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m just fine,” she says, a peaceful smile on her face.

“Where are you?” he asks.

“I’m at my apartment,” Cora replies, her voice carefree. I blink, surprised. This is indeed different

than my own hypnotic states.

“Ah,” Leon says, nodding and taking a little notepad out of the bag at his side, starting to write a

little. “And is this a happy place for you?”

Cora shrugs and makes a noncommittal noise. “Eh. I’d rather be at work.”

“Do you like work, Cora?”

I see my sister nod and smile, my heart warming to see her happiness. “I like to be helpful,” she

says, her voice breezy. “And busy.”

“That is lovely, Cora. Why don’t you go to work now, and tell me when you’re there.” There’s a

pause and then Cora nods. Leon continues. “What day is it, Cora?” he asks, his voice gentle.

“It’s today,” she says, almost as if Leon is stupid for asking. “Duh.” I bite my lip to hold back a little

laugh.

“Well today is very dull isn’t it,” Leon says, his voice peaceful, soothing, and persuasive. “Let’s go

back a little bit in time. To that day, a few months ago, when your sister came to you and you

helped her conceive her little baby. Can you go there?”

Cora inhales a deep, peaceful breath and then a few moments later exhales it. “All right,” she says,

her voice humming now with contentment and ease. “Ella is coming soon. I am excited.”

“Go ahead, Cora,” Leon encourages, and I shift my gaze to him, interested to see the different way

that he’s handling my sister’s hypnosis. He took a much more hands–off approach when I was in

him. pleased that Sinclair had the forethought to bring him onto our team.

“Tell us what is happening,” Leon continues.

Tm preparing the sample,” Cora reports, a happy little smile on her lips. “We keep them onsite frozen in liquid nitrogen. We had several vials of this patient.” She yawns a little, relaxing more deeply into the

memory. “But I’m just taking out one.”

“And were you quite careful, Cora?” Leon asks, his voice more curious than accusatory. “To ensure that it was the sample from the donor that Ella selected?”

“Oh yes,” Cora murmurs. “No mistakes there. Donor 284726. I can see it on the vial as well as on the paperwork. It’s the right one.” My eyes raise, interested to see that under hypnosis she can

remember such details.

“What’s next, Cora?” Leon prods, still calmly taking notes on his sheet.

“I take it into the lab for thawing to room temperature,” she murmurs. “Then, I will check it for motility to ensure that the specimen is viable.”

“Is that what you’re doing now?” Leon asks.

“No,” Cora replies with a happy little sigh. “No, I can’t. Because there’s someone already in the lab,” she replies, content. My blood runs cold at her words, as I realize that this is a detail she didn’t tell

us before.

“Who is it?” Leon says calmly, as if Cora just told him she saw a pretty bird and he’s asking what

color its feathers were. His voice betrays none of my shock and anxiety.

“A priest,” she murmurs.

“A priest?” Leon continues. “What kind of priest – a catholic priest? Or a priest of the goddess?”

“No,” she murmurs, shaking her head as if that’s a silly suggestion. “No, this one’s robes are like

the goddess robes. But they’re all black.”

 

Chapter 315

I gasp and quickly reach out my hand to clasp Roger’s. I feel that he is just as tense as I am as we both sit on the end of the bed, staring at Cora.

Leon flicks his gaze to me and gives me a very subtle shake of his head and a tiny frown. It’s a small gesture, but the meaning is clear: I absolutely must not disturb Cora’s state. As a precaution, I raise a hand to my mouth and cover it, knowing that in the upcoming moments I may hear details that make me react involuntarily.

Roger squeezes my other hand tightly as Leon continues.

“Cora,” Leon continues, curious. “I admit that I am intrigued by this man, this priest. Can you tell me more about him? What details do you remember?”

“It’s…hard,” Cora says, and I see her brow ruffle. “He…he didn’t want me to remember.”

“That’s very frustrating,” Leon continues, his voice like honey. “Just tell me what you see.”

“He’s tall,” Cora says, her frown deepening. “He has pale skin and dark hair…he’s not old, but not young. His robe is black.” She gives a little shrug and huffs a sigh through her nose. I can see that she’s frustrated, even in her hypnotic state.

“That’s all right, Cora, that’s wonderful detail,” Leon says soothingly. I hear Roger’s mouth pop open and snap my head to him, but Leon holds up one finger towards us, begging patience while he continues.

“What happened next, my dear?” Leon asks.

“He told me,” she says, sighing, “to destroy the sample in my hand – to wash it down the sink, and then discard the vial. And then, once I did that,” she sighs, almost peaceful again, “he had me go to the other freezer – the one with the shifter samples and to take out number 7285692. So I did. And then I prepared that, and tested it for motility, and when it was ready,” she shrugs, “I went into the exam room and helped Ella.”

“Thank you, Cora,” Leon says smoothly, smiling at her. “That is wonderful detail. You’ve remembered it all so beautifully.” Then, he turns to Roger and nods, giving him permission to take control of the investigation.

“Cora,” Roger says, releasing my hand and crossing his arms over his chest. “Can you hear me?”

“Roger?” she asks, her eyes still closed. “What are you doing here in my lab?”

“I’m just…visiting…” he says awkwardly, clearly not very good at the kind of play acting that Cora’s hypnosis requires.

“You’re not allowed to be back here,” she says, frowning.

Roger scoffs a little, as if remembering that she had no protests about a strange man in black robes who apparently took control of her will and made her switch sperm samples before inseminating me. I give Roger a hard nudge with my elbow and when he turns to me I give him a stern frown, clearly communicating that he needs to be nice to my sister. This was, after all, not her fault.

Roger sighs and nods, agreeing to my terms. “Cora,” he continues, “what did the priest say to you before he left? Did he ask you to…forget anything? Or do anything special with the sample?”

“No,” she says, turning her head to the side and considering. “He simply…took my hands, before I went, and there was a white light…and then he was gone.”

“And then you took the sample,” Roger asks, “and you didn’t know to whom it belonged?”

“No,” she says, folding her hands in her lap, looking if anything a little bored. “I thought, at the time, that it was the right sample. I thought it was the donor.”

“Very good, Cora,” Leon murmurs reassuringly next to her. “You’re doing wonderfully.” A little smile comes onto her face.

“Cora,” Roger says again. “Did you ever see the priest again?” he asks, “after that day?”

“No,” she says simply, with a little shrug. But then, a darkness passes over her face, and she frowns. Leon sits up, peering at her closely, and then looks at me, worried.

“Cora,” I say, intuiting that Roger may have hit on something here but…..perhaps, just asked the wrong question.

“Ella?” she says, her voice a little scared.

“Yes, Cora, it’s me,” I say softly, quickly standing up and moving to her side, sitting back down on the bed and taking her hand. I’m probably blocking the remote investigators‘ view of Cora now, but I don’t care. My sister is more important.

“Oh hey, Ella,” she says, her voice wavering a little bit, afraid.

“Cora,” I say, as gently as I can. “You said you don’t remember seeing the man in the black robe after that day…but did you ever see him before?”

“Ella,” my sister says, her lip starting to tremble. She turns to me, unseeing, and grasps my hand tightly. “Ella…”

“Cora,” I say, worried, glancing between her and Leon, desperate.

And then, my sister goes rigid with terror, her eyes flying open, and she tilts back her head and screams.

Again and again – her screams are unending – she barely draws breath before the next one begins

“The antidote!” I shout, throwing my body across her, working to hold her, to keep her down. Leon, clearly startled, fumbles with the shot at her side, his hands shaking. But suddenly Roger is there, snatching it from his hands – leaning over and injecting Cora in the arm where Leon administered the first shot and all the time she’s screaming, a sound of pure terror

Roger’s leans over Cora now, reaching for her face, calling her name – and then slowly, so slowly, her screams subside, and she comes back to us.

“Cora,” I say, raising both of my hands to her cheeks as tears slip down her face. She looks at me, panting, starting to sob.

“Ella,” she cries, reaching for me, and I wrap my sister in my arms, climbing fully onto the bed so I can hold her close. Roger, panting with the anxiety of the situation, watches us for a second as the door behind him bursts open and Sinclair is suddenly there.

“Is she is she all right?” he gasps, moving briskly into the room, his team of investigators behind him.

“She’ll be fine,” I murmur soothingly, hoping desperately that I’m right. My sister looks at no one, her face buried against my shoulder as I slowly rub her back, rocking her. I make quiet shushing sounds, the same I make to Rafe when he’s having a hard night. It’s all I know to do in a moment like this just to be soft, and quiet, and create a safe space for her to deal with whatever just happened.

“I’m – I’m so sorry,” Leon says shakily, “it must have been a traumatic memory

“It’s all right,” I say quietly, both to him and to Cora. “It’s no one’s fault – it’s okay.”

Sinclair reaches out a hand and puts it warmly on Leon’s shoulder, nodding to him, letting him know that we don’t hold his practice to blame. Then Sinclair nods towards the door, suggesting that Leon can leave the room if he wishes, an invitation which Leon accepts with a shaky nod. I watch the two of them leave to join the investigators in the hall. Sinclair closes the door behind them to give us some privacy.

“Cora,” Roger begins, hesitating. I watch him as he puts a hand out to her shoulder, laying it softly there, a gesture which makes Cora flinch at first, but from which she doesn’t pull away. Then, he pushes. “Cora, what did you see?”

Cora gasps and curls hard against me, and I can feel her whole body go rigid as she turns away from the memory – whatever it is –

Clearly, she is not ready to share.

“Go, Roger,” I growl at him, holding my sister tighter.

“But we need to –”

“Go!” I snap, ready to tear him to pieces. It’s a bit of an unfair reaction, I know, but when my sister is upset like this? I’m not going to let anyone push her beyond her boundaries. Not for an instant.

“Ella,” Roger says warningly, frowning at me as he stands and sinks his hands into his pockets.

He’s desperate, I know, to know more which is his job, I remind myself. He’s trying to help – to answer important questions that will help me protect our child. I force myself to be more graceful than I feel like being in this current moment.

“Just….give us a second, Roger,” I say, meeting his eyes steadily, hoping he sees and recognizes the full complications of this moment, how torn I am, along with him. “Just give us a minute, okay?” He

sighs, but then nods. “All right. I…I hope…” then he sighs again, shaking his head. “I’ll give you two a minute.” And then he leaves the room, and I hold my sister until she cries herself out.

 

Chapter 316

Forty–five minutes later, I back out of the bedroom, snicking the door shut behind me. Then, I stand up, closing my eyes and exhaling a long breath.

“Is she all right?” a voice hisses, right behind me.

I leap about a foot in the air, managing to muffle my shriek as I spin to see my mate standing about six inches from me, looking down with a worried expression. I smack him, hard, against the chest – more to get my adrenaline out than to actually hurt him – and glare up at him, mad at him for scaring me like that. Sinclair just blinks at me, waiting, my smack having had no effect on him at all.

“Back up,” I whisper, putting my hands on his wide, muscled chest and pushing backwards. “She’s asleep, finally – where is the baby?”

“He’s here,” Roger says, standing at the end of the hall with his godson in his arms. I smile, a little, at the sight as I move forward with my arms open. Roger quietly passes my baby to me and I smile down at my son, something in my body that has been anxious without him in the same room as me finally coming to rest.

“Seriously, Ella,” Sinclair says, looking back towards the closed door of our guest room. “Is Cora okay?”

“I don’t know,” I say, looking towards the door anxiously. “Leon came back about ten minutes later, offering a sedative so she could sleep. I told him to give it as long as it wouldn’t give her bad dreams. Or any dreams.”

“Did she…say anything?” Sinclair asks, still facing the door.

I frown up at him, a little annoyed by his singular focus on information. “You know she’s your sister too now, Dominic,” I snap, my own emotions a bit on edge. “You could show a little more concern for her

welfare, and not just see her as a source of information.”

Sinclair swiftly turns his attention to me, anger and frustration immediately on his face, but then he softens “I’m sorry, Ella,” he says, sincere. “I didn’t mean it like that. You know her health and safety are my first priority. I was just curious if you learned anything new.”

I sigh, stepping forward closer to my mate, leaning my body against him. “I’m sorry,” I murmur. “I

“You’re tired, and stressed,” he murmurs against my hair. “You haven’t had any sleep in about forty - eight hours…”

“I’m going in with her,” Roger says suddenly, striding towards the guest room door.

“Wha “I start, but he turns to me with his hand on the knob, giving me a look so fierce it steals the words from my mouth.

“I’m not going to do anything, Ella,” Roger bites out, his voice stern but with an undercurrent of strong emotion. “I’m just going to…be there, all right? In case she needs anything. You two go get some sleep,” he says, his face softening. “The house is guarded – Cora will be all right with me.

Just…you need sleep. She needs someone to sit with her. It makes sense. Okay?”

I feel my eyes fill with tears at the sweet sincerity of my brother–in–law and, seeing them, Sinclair wraps an arm around my shoulder. “Come on, trouble,” he murmurs to me, nodding to Roger – who disappears into the bedroom – and guiding me towards our own room. “You’re overwrought – let’s get you down for a nap.”

“How can I sleep,” I gasp, my voice shaky, wiping a tear from my face. “How can I sleep when someone is coming for my baby – when my sister –”

“You have to sleep,” Sinclair murmurs, ushering Rafe and I into the room and closing the door behind us. Then he takes me by the shoulders and moves me towards the bed, taking the sleeping baby from my arms and placing him in his basinet close to my side of the bed.

I cry out a little when my baby leaves my arms. “Just for a moment,” Sinclair murmurs, turning back to me and – to my surprise – beginning to undress me, tugging my shirt up over my head and arms and then sitting me down on the mattress, tugging off my leggings. When I’m in my underwear he leaves me for a moment, disappearing into the closet and returning with a soft nightgown, which he slides gently over my head. That done, he quickly dips down, lifting Rafe and returning him to my arms.

“There now,” he says, kneeling down in front of me, which absurdly brings his head basically eye- level with mine. “You trust me, right?” he asks, and, sniffing, I nod vigorously.

“And you know I’d never let anyone hurt or take Rafe, yes?

Again, I nod.

“Then, sleep, darling,” he says, lifting a hand to my face and gently cupping my cheek. “Because in

sleep so you can be strong for them.”

My lip trembles a little in overwrought exhaustion then. A little part of me knows that Sinclair is talking to me like a child, and resents it, but a larger part of me…god, it needs it. It needs the simple reassurance, the warm reminder that – at my most basic level – I am cared for, and safe.

Nodding to Sinclair and sending a burst of gratitude down our bond, I turn away from my mate and tuck my feet in underneath the blankets, taking the baby with me. “Tonight he sleeps in the bed with us, okay?” I murmur, laying the swaddled baby down flat on the mattress between where Sinclair and I sleep. I move all of the pillows and blankets away from him so he’ll be safe. “I want him close.”

“Excellent idea,” Sinclair murmurs, stripping down to his underwear and climbing into the bed with us. Then, he leans forward, kissing Rafe softly on the head before laying his own head back on the pillow.

I almost fall asleep when, scared, I open my eyes again, looking around. But all I see is Sinclair’s eyes, open, meeting mine calmly. “You’re safe, Ella,” he whispers. “We all are. Go to sleep.” And so, comforted, I obey.

Cora

My body flinches, awake in an instant, and I sit stark straight in the bed in the strange room looking around – frantic –

I hear noise at my side and flinch away from it – spinning to see

But to my surprise, it’s just…Roger, starting awake in an armchair by the side of my bed

“Cora,” he gasps, his voice still thick with sleep. “You scared me. Are you

But I’m panting, a hand pressed to my heart as I stare at him as I remember the events of last night – the strange, half–waking dream where I remembered…

And then I’m scurrying backwards in the bed, eager to press my back against something, looking around the room for him – for the priest in the black robes –

My breath comes fast and I’m panting, my heartrate instantly soaring despite being asleep moments ago –

“Cora!” Roger exclaims, instantly at my side, taking my hand. I cling to his fingers, my hand still

pressed against my chest as I panic. “It’s all right,” he says, his voice soothing as he hesitates and

then moves closer to me. Suddenly, he’s at my side, the right side of his body pressed to my left.

He lets go of my hand for a moment to slide that arm around my shoulders, pulling me tight

against him.

“You’re all right, Cora,” Roger murmurs reassuringly, holding me tight against him. “You’re all right. I’ve got you.”

And then, slowly, I start to believe him. I close my eyes, trusting him, allowing my heartrate to come back down to a normal pace. I take a deep breath and make myself remember that I am in my sister’s house, which is heavily guarded. That no one can get in. That….that Roger’s here. That

I’m safe.

“Roger,” I say softly a minute later, when I feel able. “Roger, I remember everything…”

“Tell me, Cora,” he murmurs, his lips soft against my hair. “Tell me everything.“1

 

Chapter 317

“Um, should we go get Ella?” I ask, hesitant. Because while I do just want to spill everything right here, right now, while I feel so safe with Roger, I do know that Ella will want to hear this. And quite frankly, I don’t want to tell it twice.

Roger stays still for a moment but then he starts to move. “Sure, Cora,” he says, taking his arm from around my shoulders and climbing off the bed. “I’ll go get them now –“:

I see him walking towards the door and instantly miss his warmth beside me. Suddenly, I very much don’t want to be alone in this room. “I’ll come with you,” I say in a hurry, scootching off the bed and moving to his side.

“All right,” he says, smiling down at me as he opens the door. Then, we both move through it together, me just a step behind so that Roger can lead the way. I glance at the grandfather clock down the wall – still a little askew, I realize, from one of Ella’s wheelchair adventures – and see that it’s early – probably too early to wake them, when they’ve gotten so little sleep.

“Should we,” I say, hesitating as we arrive at their bedroom door, but Roger just shakes his head at me. “They’ll want to know,” he says, twisting the knob and pushing the door open just a crack so we can peek inside.

We’re met with an instant snarl as Sinclair sits up in bed, hearing the door open and reacting instantly against a potential threat. I gasp, falling back a step, but Roger’s hand is instantly on my back, holding me steady.

“It’s all right, Dominic,” Roger calls out, pushing the door open fully so Sinclair and Ella can see us. I see, then, that the pair of them were already mostly awake – Ella nursing Rafe quietly in bed while

Sinclair dozed next to her. The instinctual fear that kindled in me at the sound of Sinclair’s snarl begins to fade as I see the actual sweet reality of the scene before me.

“Cora!” Ella, cries, working to stand up, but I move into the bedroom before she can.

“No,” I say, crossing the room to her bedside. “Stay down – you’re busy, obviously

“Are you all right?” she asks, worried, reaching out a hand to take mine.

“Um,” I say, looking between her and Sinclair, blushing a little to see that Sinclair is mostly naked. Roger, at my side again, doesn’t blush at all even though he can see most of Ella’s breast as she mothers all the time – but the casual way that wolves accept the naked body…I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to it.

I’m reminded, quite suddenly, of Hank’s awkwardness when confronted with Ella and Sinclair’s frank comfort with their bodies and their sexuality – he’s a surgeon, after all, not an OBGYN – and suddenly I think –

Oh my god, Hank.

I haven’t – I haven’t contacted him all since I’ve been here at Ella’s house, he’s probably going crazy with worry – honestly, I haven’t even thought of him, and suddenly I feel so incredibly guilty considering that last night we…

Blushing, I feel in my pockets for my phone, but it’s not there

“Everything… all right?” Roger asks, looking down at me with concern and maybe a little bit of suspicion.

“Fine,” I return, giving him a false little smile and folding my hands neatly in front of me. I’ll contact Hank later. Now, we’ve got more important things to do. “Ella,” I say, looking at her seriously again. “I…I

remember things. Important things. I think you should hear it.”

“All right,” Ella says, her eyes wide and genuine, curious but not pressuring me. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Ella

Cora sits down on my bed, exhaling a deep, shaky breath. I look up at Roger curiously for a second, but his eyes are trained on my sister, watching, listening. I adjust my hold on Rafe, who is still happily eating, and lean back against Sinclair, who wraps his arms around me for physical and emotional support.

“I can’t believe I forgot it,” Cora says, looking down at her hands and shaking her head. “It’s like a nightmare you forget about it in the morning when you wake up, but then something reminds you of it, and it all comes crashing back.”

“What is it, Cora?” I whisper, wanting to let her go at her own pace but also dying to know.

“The man,” she says, looking up and meeting my gaze. “Don’t you remember him, Ella?”

“I–I didn’t see him, Cora,” I say, shaking my head. “I didn’t see what you saw in the hypnosis.

Maybe if I did – I’d have the same memories – but, no…”

“He’s – he’s been following us our whole lives,” Cora whispers, looking down at her hands. I can see tears starting in her eyes again and my heart wrenches to see her so upset. “He never approached us – never spoke to us. But I would see him, like a specter from a dream – suddenly, he’d be there. Standing across the school yard, watching us. At the end of the hall in the dark, watching us. And then, once, at the foot of my bed in the orphanage – I saw him, standing there, watching me sleep

Cora’s voice catches now and she presses a hand to her neck, closing her eyes tight against the memory. “And every time I saw him – I’d forget him, until I saw him again – and then I’d remember –”

“Oh, Cora,” I coo, leaning forward towards her. “That’s so horrible

“And he’s the one,” she says, raising her eyes and shaking her head at me. “He’s the one who made me switch the sperm samples – I’m so sorry, Ella – it’s all my fault it really was me who did it – ”

“No, Cora,” I say, fierce, taking her hand and squeezing it hard. “You did everything right – that priest, he did something to you, hypnotized you, made you forget.

“Don’t forget, Cora,” Sinclair adds, his deep voice sympathetic. “We’re not new to this – the priests who followed Ella her whole life, they wiped memories from her mind as well.”

“But they’re not the same priests,” Cora breathes, looking between Sinclair and me and wiping a tear from her eye. “I can tell – I know it in my bones. There’s a tie there, some…similarity. But they’re not the same order. This man he – he serves someone else. Not the Goddess”

I look between Roger and Sinclair, who know more about shifter religion than I do. “Are you aware of some…subset? Or a cult of priests? Who wear black robes?”

“No,” Roger replies, breathing out a long breath as he runs a hand through his hair. “I tried to do some research last night before I fell asleep, but I came up empty. That doesn’t mean it’s a dead end, though there are lots of people who have better access to occult archives than I do.”

“But don’t you see?” Cora asks, looking between the three of us. “It’s it’s me. I’m the tie. I’m the thing that brings it all together.”

I turn my head and stare at my sister, not understanding. “Ella,” she says, leaning forward. “That priest – he let me see him, let us see him, when we were girls. He wiped the memories from our

If he’d wanted to do it invisibly, he could have. Ella, he wanted us to know him, to recognize him.”

She swallows, taking her hand from mine and gripping her own hands together in her lap. “He

wanted to be seen.”

“We don’t know that, Cora,” Ella replies, shaking her head. “We don’t know the details – it could

have been a mistake, you seeing him. And – and me, if you say I was there.”

“But don’t you see, Ella?” Cora whispers. “He’s been following us our whole lives. Us, not just you.

Me, somehow? Somehow…I’ve been part of this plan all along.”

“Well,” I say softly, “you, too, are the daughter of a goddess. If he somehow knew our history, and wanted a child of her line…”

“Then it makes sense,” Cora whispers, finishing my sentence when I cannot, “that he’d want two viable options.”

I stare at my sister, my heart dropping as I realize that this…is so much deeper, and more complicated, than we ever could have known.

 

Chapter 318

As Cora sits on the bed with her sister, I meet my brother’s eyes above her head and nod towards the door. He nods as well, agreeing. He places a hand on Cora’s shoulder and gives her a little squeeze before heading to the door.

Ella turns towards me as I stand up, grabbing my phone and heading to the closet, but I speak to her mind–to–mind to let her know that everything’s fine as I quickly pull on some casual clothes. Take care of Cora, I say to Ella, trying to send warmth and support along with my words. We’re just going to go talk downstairs with the team.

Ella nods to me, with a little smile, and then when I meet Roger at the door we walk out together, closing it behind us.

As soon as the door is shut, we’re instantly in motion. “We need more information,” Roger says, striding for the stairs. “And we need a drawing of this man, if we can convince Cora to speak to a sketch artist – it could be incredibly helpful –

”

“That shouldn’t be difficult,” I agree as the two of us hurry down the stairs to my office, where a team of investigators worked through the night on the case. “I’ll have a trained sketch artist come by as soon as possible – I’m sure Cora will comply –” I pull my phone from my pocket and start looking through my contacts.

“Someone should contact Hank,” Roger murmurs, striding into the office and moving behind the, desk. “To let him know that she won’t be in to work anytime soon – we need her here –“

―

I pause, a little, in my search for someone who can contact a reliable and discreet sketch artist to look at Roger and raise an eyebrow at him. “Didn’t think you’d be showing such concern for Dr. Hank anytime soon,” I murmur.

Roger shoots me a dirty glance. “It’s strictly professional,” he murmurs, sorting through some papers on the desk and handing them off to the investigators to properly file. “And after last night, he knows something is up –”

“Does he?” I ask, looking at Roger fully now. “Hank was there last night? At Cora’s?”

”

Roger sighs, placing both hands evenly on the desk and then lifting his head to meet my eyes. Can we not?” he asks, impatient. “Can we not do this, during a crisis regarding your child’s safety?”

I nod, but I can’t keep the smirk off my face as I do so. Honestly, I could use a little distraction from waiting for someone to bust into my house to steal my child, and teasing Roger about Cora seems like just the thing. But I can tell that he’s perturbed, so I leave it alone. For now.

“It seems to me,” I say after a moment, crossing my arms and thinking aloud. “That the best clue we have so far is the black robes. Cora said that several times – the man was consistently dressed like one of the Goddess‘ dedicated priests, but in black robes. That has got to be a clue we can follow up.”

“I agree,” Roger says, grabbing a laptop and pulling it close to him, “Don’t you have someplace where you can start with that?” he asks passively, already sitting down and starting to type.

was a fraud, and that her wolf was dormant?”

“Adolpho,” I confirm, nodding and making a mental note to contact him after I find the sketch artist. “We were in touch with him yesterday in case he had come across anything useful in the past few months –

but now that we have new information, I’ll ask again.”

“Good,” Roger confirms, still searching.

“What are you looking for?” I ask, working to peer over his shoulder.

“There’s an archive,” Roger murmurs, still searching. “With some…rare books. On the subject of the history of shifter religion.” He shrugs and turns the computer to me so that I can see a very old, very basic website that includes a description of some archaic holdings. “It’s about five hours

away – if Adolpho comes up with nothing, then perhaps we can contact the people here. It’s a closed– stack collection but,” he shrugs, “I’m sure you can pull some strings. Get us in to see what they’ve got.”

“What’s the point of this?” I ask, leaning over the computer and scrolling through the options. Roger wants to go to a library? Now?

“It’s the most complete collection of its kind,” he replies. “Hundreds of years of shifter religious history. If anyone’s going to have an answer about the priest in the black robes, I have a feeling it

will be them.”

“Good,” I say, standing up straight and nodding, looking back to my phone to again chase down that sketch artist. “You’ll go tonight. Take Cora.”

“What?!”

“After she is done with the sketch artist,” I continue, looking up to meet his eyes seriously. “You’ll take her to this library with you.”

“Why?” Roger growls and I raise my eyebrows at his defiance of my command. Roger sighs, his teeth gritted, clearly frustrated. I’m curious about this. Why does he suddenly not want to go with Cora? “I

mean, what is Cora going to add to the investigation? Why can’t she stay here with you, where she’s safe?”

“Cora gave us a very vague description,” I reply, turning my attention back to the phone. “But that. doesn’t mean she doesn’t remember more details. It just means she didn’t tell us about them in the moment because she didn’t think they were important, or because she’s upset. If you come across a detail that matches her memory in the archive, it will be important to have her there to confirm it.”

Roger sits back in his chair, nodding. I work hard to keep the smirk to my face as I see how disgruntled he is at the assignment.

“Unless,” I say casually. “You’d prefer I sent Hank along with her, on the mission…he’s clever enough. Probably a good researcher, to get out of med school with such a good ranking –”

“Its fine,” Roger snaps, and as I steal a glance at my brother I see that he’s glaring at me, knowing precisely what it is that I’m implying. “Cora and I will go tonight. It will be fine.“/

“I’ll set up the transport,” I say casually, pressing a contact on my phone and striding out of the

see Cora and Ella coming down the stairs, the baby in Ella’s arms, presumably heading for the kitchen.

“All right?” I ask, and they both nod to me. Someone answers the phone in my hand, but I hang up quickly, knowing I can call back. “Cora,” I say, as she comes to the bottom of the stairs. She turns her head up to me and I quickly explain the situation, how we want her to work with a sketch artist and then accompany Roger to the archive, Ella stands by her sister, her eyebrows raised at the second proposal.

“Dominic,” she says, looking between her sister and I, worried. “Are you sure it’s…wise? To send Cora off? Shouldn’t we keep her at home?”

I open my mouth to deny that, but Ella gives me a little nudge down our bond, urging me to let this play out.

“You can’t keep me here, Ella,” Cora says, frowning at her sister and crossing her arms defiantly.” If I wasn’t going to go to this archive, then I would certainly be going to work.”

“What?” Ella breathes, her shock a little too prominent, her eyebrows a little too high. She sends another pulse down our bond to me then, a troublesome, wicked little thing. I work hard to keep the smirk from my face. “No, Cora,” she gasps, “you have to stay here, with me, where you’re safe –

“No way in hell, Ella,” Cora counters, frowning at her sister angrily. “You can’t keep me locked up here

”

“But for your safety!” Ella cries out. Just until we figure out who’s behind this and make sure it’s okay to leave the house!”

“Tell Roger I’ll be ready,” Cora orders me, rolling her eyes and striding into the kitchen away from her sister, her mind made up.

“Cora!” Ella cries after her, her voice all worry, but as the kitchen door swings shut behind Cora Ella turns to me with a grin. “She’d never have agreed to go so easily if we didn’t threaten imprisonment,” she whispers.

“Well done, trouble,” I say, raising my hand up, palm out Ella gives me a quick high–five, grinning towards the kitchen. I laugh and quickly giver her a kiss on the head, raising my phone back again and starting to make that call.

I’m interrupted, though, by my mate’s soft hand on my arm. “She’ll be safe?” Ella asks softly when I turn to her. “With Roger?”

“I’ll send guards,” I say with a little shrug. “But Ella…I’m starting to get the feeling that Roger…”

She nods, understanding me. “Would protect her with his life,” she finishes. I give her a sad little smile, knowing that it’s complicated between them, but still somehow knowing…

…that on some level?

It’s not complicated. Not at all.

 

Chapter 319

That evening, our car rumbles down the road towards the archive, Roger steady at the wheel. Another car with two guards follows behind us, keeping a steady eye out for anything strange. I sigh, already exhausted, even though I got more sleep than Ella or Roger or Sinclair last night. Still it wasn’t exactly a peaceful sleep – and then today, with the sketch artist…

I stare down at a copy of the sketch in my lap, at the face of the man I didn’t realize had been haunting my dreams. To be able to see him put on paper like this – it’s…it’s like staring at the ghost you didn’t know was haunting you. A little shiver passes through me and I neatly fold the page, placing it in the cup holder next to me, not wanting it in my hands anymore.

“You all right?” Roger asks, glancing over at me.

“Yeah,” I say, sighing again, my eyes on the road. “How long until we get there?”

“About two more hours,” he replies evenly, nodding towards the GPS system running on his phone. “We’re lucky that they’re staying open late for us.”

“We’re not lucky,” I murmur, leaning down to tug at the bottom of the jeans that Ella loaned to me which are, predictably, too short. “Sinclair is rich. Anyone will stay open that late in exchange for an insane donation.”

Roger smirks, glancing at me, but doesn’t reply. Because he knows I’m right.

I feel my phone buzz then, tucked under my thigh, and I pull it out, unlocking it and looking at the

new message on my screen.

Hank: It’s okay, I totally understand. I’m glad the baby is okay. Don’t worry about the clinic – I can hold it down for as long as you need. Have fun? Is that the right sentiment for a trip to an obscure shifter archive?

I smile, laughing a little inwardly at his joke. No, fun was not precisely the word I’d choose either, not for this trip. My smile falls, though, when another message pops onto the screen.

Hank: I miss you.

I glance away from it, licking my lips awkwardly and tucking the phone back under my leg. I look back to the windshield and realize that Roger is watching me from the corner of his eye.

“Who was that?” he asks, smug. I know, instantly, that he already knows.

“Nobody,” I murmur, turning away.

“Was it Ella?” he quips, needling me.

I turn to send a little glare his way. “It wasn’t Ella.”

“Oh,” he says, smirking now. But he lets it drop. It’s enough for him, I guess, to let me know that he knows. I sigh, closing my eyes and letting my head rest back against my seat, my face turned away from Roger, wanting a little nap but knowing I’m not going to get it.

Instead, my mind wanders to Hank, and I think of him seeing patients alone in our little clinic all

night – god, was it only last night? – when I’d pulled him half dressed into my bedroom, gasping for him, and let him peel my clothes from my body before…

Well. Before stuff happened.

Good stuff. Great stuff, even.

So why can’t I text him back and tell him that I miss him too?

I sigh, willing my mind away from it, turning it towards other things. I listen to the steady hum of the car, to the very, very faint sound of Roger breathing next to me. But I don’t reach for my phone. Somehow, I just don’t want to.

And as I drift off to sleep, I wonder if that makes me just….incredibly cruel. I sigh, kind of hating myself right now, but not knowing what to do about it.

Two hours later, I jump at the soft touch of a hand on my shoulder. I gasp, spinning, to see Roger looking at me curiously.

“Eye for an eye,” he says, giving me a warm little smirk. “That’s how you woke me up this morning. With a jolt.”

“Sorry,” I murmur, rubbing my eye sleepily and looking around in the dark. “Are we here?” The car is parked but still running, the windshield wipers slowly moving against a light rain. I look at it curiously, surprised. The forecast didn’t say anything about rain tonight.

“Yup,” Roger says. “Are you ready to go in? Do you need a minute?”

I stretch in my seat, my eyes closed, and take a mental inventory of myself. Body? Stiff, but all right. Mind? Thoroughly shaken. Heart?

…best left uninvestigated, for the moment.

“Yup,” I say, turning a sunny smile Roger’s way. He blinks a little bit, perhaps surprised to see it.‘ Did you hear anything from Ella and Sinclair?”

Roger shakes his head, turning off the car and unbuckling his seatbelt. “I heard from them,” he says, “but nothing of note. All is well at home. If we’re lucky, we can do our research here tonight and be

home by dawn.”

We both climb out of the car and I frown at him over the roof. “But then you won’t have slept at all, for twenty–four hours,” I say.

Roger gives me a swift wink, stretching himself after long hours at the wheel. “Don’t worry about me, baby,” he says. “I’ve got stamina.” And then he heads for the entrance to the ornate building in front of us, jogging up the stairs without me.

As I turn to follow, the last thought echoing in my mind is…I bet you fucking do, Roger.

Inside, we’re greeted by a friendly, eager librarian. As she smiles widely at us and leads us into a pretty reading room, dimly lit by golden sconces on the wall, I remind myself that she’s not actually excited to see us.- she’s pumped about the gigantic donation that Sinclair must have made to get us in here overnight.

we ve punen some books that we ш you use, me mua says, gestumy towards a stack of maybe one hundred and twenty old leather tomes stacked on the tables in front of us. My eyes go wide, taking in the extent of them. “We do know that the Cult of the Goddess adopted the robe that we now understand to be traditional about five hundred years ago. Assuming that the cult that you are searching for is in some way imitating that tradition, we were able to narrow down the selection to the past five hundred years.”

“This?” I say, gesturing towards the books with my brows raised. “This is the narrowed selection?”

The librarian nods at me, giving us both an eager smile.

“Thank you,” Roger says, smiling back at her warmly.

“I’ll be here if you need me,” the librarian–says, gesturing towards the desk at the head of the room. “But please, make yourself at home. Just…” she hesitates, looking between us. “Please no…food or drink…around the books.”

“We promise,” Roger says, giving her the most charming smile I’ve ever seen from him. “We’ll protect the books at all costs. No sticky fingers here.” The librarian blushes, then giggles, and scurries away.

“Wow,” I say, coming to Roger’s side. “You had…quite the effect on her,” I whisper, watching her go. “Librarians love me,” Roger says, giving a little shrug. “I don’t know why. It’s always been a thing! “Are you sure you just don’t like librarians?” I ask, smirking and raising a single brow in his direction. Roger looks at me consideringly and I raise my hand to the side of my face, pretending to lower a pair of horn–rimmed glasses down the length of my nose, looking at him seductively over the edge of them. “Oh Mr. Sinclair, please, let me tell you all about the

Dewey Decimal system,” I tease, my voice breathy and sensual.

Roger smirks at me, taking a step closer. “You watch yourself with that,” he murmurs, looking down at me with a little pretend heat behind his eyes. At least…I think it’s pretend. “If you’re not careful, I’ll pull you behind the stacks and ravish you. Won’t be able to stop myself.”

–

I laugh, then, suddenly, at the shock of it – at Roger making a joke to me, to begin, and then a funny one at that. The sound is too loud in this quiet space. I slap a hand over my mouth, still giggling, and look over at the little librarian, who looks towards us, a little shocked. Roger laughs as well, his sound much more library–appropriate, contained and measured. “Come on,” he nodding towards the pile. “Let’s get started.”

Smiling, I comply, sitting down at the table and pulling the first book towards me.

 

Chapter 320

About three hours later I am…over books. As a genre, in their entirety.

My hands are dusty, and I’m sick of the smell of musty old pages, and they’re just so boring –

Page after page of history regarding shifter worship practices – who genuflected to this god, and how, and where, and for how long, and the minute changes in the practices…

I groan, pushing my twentieth book away from me and looking dourly at the stack of about fifty still left in my pile.

“Come on, Cora,” Roger says, sitting comfortably across from me, smirking at me over the edge of a neat little green text. “You’re supposed to be the smart one in the family. I thought you’d have more staying power than this.”

“Ella’s smart,” I reply, immediately defensive. He nods, conceding the point. “But you gave me all the dusty books,” I sigh, frowning and pulling the next one off the top of the pile and towards me. I cough when it raises a puff of dust into the air on its way.

“I gave you all the ones with more pictures,” Roger murmurs, closing his book and reaching for his next as well. “Wanted to make it easy on you.”

My mouth drops open in a little outrage at his implication there but then I see the upturned corner of his lip. “Liar,” I say, smiling down at my book as I open the cover. The title page reads A Complete History of the Cults of the Dark God, 1862. “You just didn’t want to get your hands and clothes dusty touching all these old ones.” Passively, I gesture to my clothes – which are indeed covered in a light layer of grey library dust.

“You’ve got a little on your ass,” Roger murmurs indifferently. “Come here, I’ll help you brush it off.”

I smirk, shaking my head, but ignore him and continue to page through the book. This one, to Roger’s point, is indeed heavily illustrated, with many pictures of occult ceremonies and practices that I find fascinating, if not a little disturbing. I’m letting my eyes drift over the description of a summoning ceremony when I turn the page and –

I stop, frozen.

Because it’s him, right in front of me.

Well, not him – not precisely, the face is not the same – but of course it’s not, then he’d be over one hundred years old –

“Roger,” I breathe, and his attention is instantly on me. “I think…I think I found something.”

Roger is at my side in a moment, faster than I thought he could be, leaning over–the book next to me. I point at the image, which takes up three quarters of a page and shows a monk with a partially shaved head striding through a forest in a dark robe, tied at the waist with a rope from which charms dangle. In his hand is a stick – or a staff, I don’t know – which he carries with reverence.

“Yes,” I whisper, swallowing hard. “Um – it has details… details I’m not sure I remembered in the moment. I’m sorry about that – but the charms, and the rod and and something about the hair

“It’s all right, Cora,” Roger says comfortingly, the tips of his fingers suddenly light on my lower back, not brushing against me by accident but staying there, steady. “No one expects you to remember every detail all at once.”

I nod, and then we both lean forward, reading,

The Monastic Cult of the God of Darkness is a minor but powerful cult developed in the eighteenth. century. They were formulated in direct opposition to the Cult of the Goddess, which professed at

mission of peace between all living things. What is known of their stated mission – passed from brother to brother, never written down – emphasizes hierarchy, war, and discord between peoples. in order to honor their lord, the God of Darkness, who they understand as best worshiped by sowing disharmony as well as blood sacrifice, From the eighteenth to the nineteenth centuries. the Cult developed significant magical prowess and their abilities to manipulate the elements should not be underestimated. While the most devoted members of the Cult exclusively wear the trademark black robes, many others move through the world in disguise. Devotees tend to flock to high–powered jobs amongst their enemies, particularly in the fields of law, politics, and medicine.

I turn the page, seeking more, but am shocked and disappointed to find that that’s the end. “That’s it?” I gasp.

“It’s enough,” Roger says, his hand flattening against my back. I turn to him, not knowing what to do. “Are you sure, Cora?” he asks me, turning the page back and pointing to the picture. “Are you sure that this is precisely what you saw in your hypnosis and when you were a child?”

“Yes,” I say, nodding steadily. “When I saw it – it was like déjà vu. Just an immediate return to those memories. If I had seen that image, even without the hypnosis, it would have…brought me right back.”

“Good,” he says, nodding seriously to me. “You did beautifully, Cora,” he says, pulling me against him for a moment in a quick hug and then releasing me. “Look through the rest of the book if anything else rings a bell. I’m going to go call Sinclair, get his team working on finding out anything else they can about this cult.”

I nod, turning back to the book and quickly looking through the pages, my mind whirling. What the hell was this cult? And what on earth can they want with Ella’s little baby? Why did they work so hard for him to be born if they…

If they worship the god who works in opposition his grandmother’s mission…

My eyes light again on the phrase “blood sacrifice” and my heart drops to my stomach, my breathing ratcheting up.

“Miss?” the librarian says at my shoulder and I jump, spinning towards her. “I’m so sorry!” she says, her hands out.

“It’s okay,” I murmur, laughing a little. “Just a lot of work on a little sleep.”

Tunesta, Sie Says, K, as to make a copy of ally payes at um sigmcant. I thank her, indicating the page with the image and the description of the Monastic Cult, and she swiftly.carries the book away to a scanner so that she can print copies. I lean against the table, anxiously watching the door for Roger’s return.

He comes back a few minutes later and moves swiftly to my side, sliding his phone into his back pocket. As he reaches me, the librarian comes over with about twenty warm copies of the page.

“Thank you,” Roger says, giving her a warm smile, and I feel something growl in me as I look between the two of them. She puts on a shy, demure little expression, twirling a strand of her hair, and asks us if there’s anything else we need, but Roger quickly and politely says no, that we’ll be leaving now. I can’t help but give her a little glare that she doesn’t deserve as we head towards the door.

Roger, to his credit, doesn’t look back as we leave the library and head to the car, pressing the copies of the pages to his chest protectively against the rain that’s pouring down over us now. We both dash to the car, eager to get inside, and as we pull our doors open and throw ourselves into our seats the car with the guards, parked next to us, likewise starts up.

“Sinclair wants us home now,” Roger murmurs, filling me in. “We’ll be safer there, and more productive, I think.”

“Okay,” I say, a little guilty. Part of me knows I need to return to the clinic, to my work there. But honestly, the only place I want to be..

I think of Ella, and the baby, and solidify my determination. Roger’s watching me quietly as I turn to him. “To Ella’s,” I say, nodding. “Let me know if you need me to drive,” I offer. “Like, if you get tired.”

“Thanks,” he says, smiling at me, but then he looks up through the windshield at the angry sky.” But I think we might need shifter reflexes to get through this storm.”

“This storm,” I murmur, buckling my seatbelt. “Where did it even come from? The weather was supposed to be sunny for days…”