Raven (Kindred #1) (26 page)

Sustaining a conversation and presence in this room would be difficult while being a part of another conversation going on across the street at the same time. “I think we both could use the courage,” she said, more in response to Art than to Grant.

Grant kept drinking until his glass was empty, then he went to the large leather couch that faced the window and collapsed onto it, resting the glass on the back of the couch.

“Come and sit here,” Grant said, bringing his glass down onto the seat.

Doing as she was told, she took his empty glass and put it on a side table with her own. “I have a clear shot,” Brodie said and she tipped her chin away for fear Grant would hear their voices. “That’s your only warning. If he puts his hands on you”—she slid down the couch away from Grant. “Better.”

Grant didn’t support her retreat though because he shifted toward her. “Thanks for meeting me.”

“Sure,” she said, unsure of what to do when he dropped a hand onto hers on the seat of the couch. The contact was slight; she just hoped Brodie didn’t notice it.

“I asked you to meet me because… I want you to help me.”

“Of course,” she said. “Anything I can do.”

“You’re a good girl, Zara,” he said, bringing his hand to her jaw.

With a laugh meant to be light, she pulled his hand down from her face. “How many have you had to drink, sir?”

His eyes searched hers. “We’re more than boss and employee, aren’t we, Zar?” he asked, inching closer still.

“I don’t… I don’t know what you mean.”

“I can trust you, can’t I?”

A few weeks ago, she might have been offended that he would question her allegiance. Now the lines weren’t so clear because she was in league with his brother who was trying to put a stop to his illicit business deal.

“You can trust me,” she murmured, turning her head enough that the men in the opposite building wouldn’t be able to see her mouth. Not that it mattered; they could hear everything.

“Good,” Grant said at the same time Art said the same word in her ear. His eyes moved from his slacks to the couch, to the floor, to the wall. So while his body position didn’t change much, his turmoil was obvious. “I’ve been struggling with something for months now. Making decisions alone which could affect many lives.”

Ready to listen to what he had to say, she tried to remain calm. “What kind of decisions?” she asked and couldn’t believe this was the moment he was going to confess all to her.

His gaze stuck on his knee, he inhaled, then moistened his lips. “Many years ago CI began developing a device,” he said and she had to squeeze her lips together. “It was meant to be for medical use that was its initial purpose…”

Trying to forget the danger, she imagined this was all new information. “We develop a lot of medical devices,” she said, urging him on.  

With a distant almost longing in his voice, he beseeched the spirits or perhaps they were the demons that haunted him into this course of action. “My father didn’t agree with its potential,” he said, opening his fingers over hers and tracing the seams of her closed fingers with the tips of his.

This was a genuine moment of vulnerability and she felt guilty that he was revealing himself to her without being aware of their audience. But that was her human compassion ruling good sense because with the potential for danger tonight, she was so grateful to have Brodie watching over her and she touched the edge of her necklace before returning her thoughts to Grant.

“You never talk about your dad,” she said, opening her fingers to trap his, so that he couldn’t keep stroking her because such an action felt intimate and she did not intend to get that close to this man. She was happy with the one she’d chosen.

Some of his regret receded and he strengthened his jaw. “I don’t talk about any of my family,” he said. “They’re still out there. My father had no siblings, but my mother did… They’re out there, but…”

When his attention drifted up to the window, she was struck by the irony. Grant was staring out and two of his family members were staring right back, only he didn’t know it. “But?” she asked, trying to ease him into carrying on.

With a loud inhale, he straightened his shoulders. “It doesn’t matter,” he said, shaking off his previous melancholy. “When we find ourselves alone in the world, we have the freedom to make grander decisions and that’s what I’m doing with Albert Sutcliffe.”

“Is he the confirmed buyer for this device?” she asked.

“There are two other interested parties, but Sutcliffe has been the most persistent. I think his ideology is the most worthy.”

That was a terrifying statement. It was bad enough when she thought that this was all about money. If Grant was not only in business with these men, but also in league with their ideas and politics, CI could become a very different kind of institution. “His ideology?” she asked.

He twisted and met her eye with a determination she recognized from someone else she knew. “I need a confidante. Someone to help me. To understand.”

“To understand what?” she asked.

“How important this is,” he said. “These men, the men I’ve been dealing with… they’re serious and determined. I can’t lie to you, Zara. Meeting them could endanger you.”

“Endanger me, how?” she asked, reminding herself that she wasn’t supposed to know these men were terrorists.

His tight smile wasn’t reassuring. “I’ll do everything I can to protect you. We won’t let it come to anything serious.”

“Thank you,” she said, hoping that this was the right reaction to such a statement. “But if this deal is in any way dangerous, you shouldn’t go through with it. Why is this deal so dangerous?”

“Because once we sell this device, it’s possible that it will be used for a sinister purpose.”

Taking her time to think about how she might react to this revelation if it was new. She explored his features for a few seconds. “What, like a weapon?” she asked, drawing her hands away and moving further down the couch, but he followed her again.

“No, it’s not… you’ll see later exactly what it’s capable of. Sutcliffe wants a demonstration and that’s why it was so important that you and I talk before the meeting. I wouldn’t want you to think I kept anything from you.”

“A demonstration? I don’t want to be present if people are going to be hurt.” She moved to rise, but he caught her wrist when she was halfway up and tugged her back down.

He didn’t let her go, just pulled himself closer. “No one will be hurt,” he said. “You have my word on that. No one will be hurt tonight. What these men want to do is make the world a better place and we can be a part of that, Zara. You and me.”

“I don’t want to be a part of anything that is going to cause suffering.”

“Dial it back,” Art murmured in her ear.

Zara tried to temper her reaction because it was important for the mission that they knew where this device was and what it was capable of.

“I have worked so hard to make it perfect, Zara,” he said. The saddest part was that he clearly believed what he was saying.

“I’m sure the men in Quebec who died thought the same thing… What happened to them? You said there was an explosion?”

Coming across as the consummate professional, his detachment from the loss of life was unnerving. This wasn’t like talking to Brodie who was used to death and destruction. As far as she knew, Grant was a novice, yet he put on a good show.

“I don’t know yet. I’m going to travel up there tomorrow to investigate. Everything there was destroyed. Luckily, I had already moved some supplies down here and the compressed drug was kept separately.” When his gaze drifted away, he was frowning, lost in his resolute thoughts. “The fact that someone knew to attack us there is concerning. Very few people knew that the plant was there.”

Managing to preserve her ease, Zara tried for more information. “I don’t remember seeing a research station there in the company reports.”

“It was kept secret for this very reason. To produce and use this product requires vision that few people have. Some would set out to destroy it. It’s possible we have a saboteur who may have a misguided idea of why he was destroying our research. Or…”

It was her turn to be determined. Without taking her attention away, Zara hoped their connection would force him to be honest. “Or what?”

“One of our bidders was sending a message.” He was honest in his suspicions at least, but he had no answers to offer her on why the plant had been destroyed.

Coiling her hands in her lap, she nibbled her lower lip. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

His gaze stuck to the lip she was worrying in her teeth. “Will you come with me?”

Surprised by the question, her other thoughts vanished. “Where?” she asked.

“The plant. Tomorrow.”

“Oh,” she said, tightening her grip on herself.

“Say no,” Brodie said through her earpiece.

“Say yes,” Art followed up and she sucked her lower lip into her mouth as she tried to think of a response.

With a smile, she tried to ignore the implication of the request. “I can make reservations as soon as I get to a computer,” she said, hoping he might tell her to do it this minute. “I can coordinate your trip from here. There is no need for me to travel—”

“I meant with me,” he said and his hand rose toward her face, but she intercepted it.

“That’s very sweet, Grant,” she said, looking left and right while trying not to be too obvious about leaning away. “But uh… we should keep things professional.”

The heat in his eyes was anything but professional, so she deliberately slanted her shoulders in hope of concealing this exchange from the men watching through her necklace. “You’re one of the most incredible women I’ve ever known,” he said. “You remind me a lot of my mother.”

“Oh,” she said, not sure if that was a compliment or not, given he was talking about romance. “That’s uh… creepy.”

Grant laughed and he seized her hand again. “I meant it as a compliment. She was a wild woman, tenacious and confident. She was fearless, very intelligent and she had a great spirit.”

“Thank you,” Zara said, making a mental note to ask Brodie later if she reminded him of his mother. “I am flattered, really, but”—she pulled her hand away from him—“I’m sort of seeing someone.”

“You are?” he asked, his surprise made him draw back.

“Yeah, she is,” Brodie said through her earpiece in a growl that made her tremble.

“I am.” Covering Grant’s hand, she gave it a platonic pat.

“Is it serious?” he asked and she noted how her earpiece became silent.

“That seems to depend on his mood.” Muffled laughter echoed in her ear, but she kept her smile steady on Grant.

“You deserve the best. I hope he knows how lucky he is to have such a gracious woman.”

Grant linked their fingers and stood to pull her to her feet. “We should go to the party downstairs, show face, and write some checks. We’ll come back up here when it’s time.”

“Wait,” she said, not moving when he tried to guide her along at his side. “I still don’t understand about this demonstration. When is it happening?”

“Tonight,” he said. “Midnight.”

“So the device is here on the premises?” she asked. “Where is it?”

He widened his smile and drew a finger along her jaw. “You’ll find out when it’s time.”

Trying to catch a look over her shoulder, she couldn’t object when he took her out of the suite and down to the party. But she could use some direction from her cohorts right about now because there was danger here and Grant was leading her straight into the fire.

Grant had taken her to the party in the Grand ballroom and furnished her with a flute of champagne. Art told her to put the alcohol down, but with frayed nerves, she was hesitant to comply. At least she was until he reminded her the camera in her necklace would go into the ladies room with her if she needed to pee. After that, she stopped drinking and just used the glass as a prop.

Maintaining a distance from festivities, Zara chose to remain on the fringes of the room and not to interact. “I want to dance,” she said, keeping her back to the wall and her glass over her lips as she watched the glitterati mingle. “I wonder if my new boyfriend dances.”

She didn’t really want to dance, but she’d been here for nearly two hours and she imagined the men in the building opposite were getting as restless as she felt. So she decided to needle Brodie while he could do nothing to prevent her.

“Let him take you to Rio during Carnival and you’ll find out,” Art said through the earpiece.

Imagining the lives of the people she was watching and those of the men supporting her tonight, she was struck by the differences. “You know, this whole experience has made me realize…” she murmured. “Adventure is all around us.”

“Stop talking,” Brodie said in a monotone that betrayed his displeasure.

Her initial thought that he was just being grumpy and impatient was replaced when she realized her support team couldn’t see her here in the ballroom at the rear of the building. But they could see the frontage, where they could be witnessing anything, and withholding the information from her.

“Should I be worried?” she asked and then explained herself. “We’re worried about a chemical agent and we know this device is on the premises.”

“Can you see Grant?” Art asked her.

The last time she’d seen him, he was on the dance floor with a blonde. Zara stepped out of the shadow to examine the partygoers and spotted Grant in a small group of serious men.

“Yes,” she said, aware of her frown but unable to remove it. “He’s networking.”

“As long as you keep him in sight, you’ll be safe. He’s not going to unleash any noxious gases while he’s in range,” Art said in a cool but reassuring voice.

Zara relaxed because that made sense. “You’re a smart guy, Art,” she said, returning to her dark cocoon and her teasing. “It’s a wonder you let yourself be dragged down by that lug head you live with.”

Art laughed but Brodie spoke up, “Pretty baby, you let that smart mouth run away as much as you like, it can spend all night apologizing. Spend less time talking and more thinking about that.”

Hiding her smile, Zara sought out Grant again to check his position. Except he was coming through the crowd toward her, so she erased the smile Brodie had put on her face. “Four men just entered the conference room,” Art said, returning to the cause at hand.

Taking her weight off the wall, Zara composed herself in time for Grant arriving at her position. His grave expression made her skin prickle into gooseflesh, but she tried not to display any hesitation because her boss had to believe that she was strong enough to face this without folding.

“It’s time to go,” Grant said, offering her his arm.

Upholding her air of naivety about the situation, she smiled and took his arm, allowing him to lead her out of the ballroom.

“Two more targets in the zone,” Art said through the earpiece.

Two voices. Two locations. It was difficult to follow both without revealing the truth of what she was doing to Grant. Over time, it would probably be easier to slide in and out of the present moment as the Kindred blathered in your ear. But Zara was concentrating on Grant, letting him guide her towards a dangerous situation she wasn’t trained to handle and her trepidation was making her ears ring.

When they got to the elevator, Grant stepped away enough to press the call button. “I appreciate your support,” Grant said. “Your loyalty is valuable to me. I don’t want you to think I underestimate it.”

Grant took her arm again when the elevator came and they moved into it together. “What’s going to happen up here?” she asked. “I can be more valuable to you if I know what to expect.”

“Good,” Art said in her ear. “Find out what he anticipates.”

Grant didn’t respond right away, in fact it felt like an age before he said anything, to the point that Zara began to wonder if he was just going to ignore her question.

“I don’t know exactly what will happen,” Grant said, curling his fingers over hers at his elbow. “Whatever does happen, play along and I’ll explain later.”

That wasn’t the reassuring answer she’d hoped for. But it would have to do because they got to their floor and Grant ushered her along the corridor toward the conference room they’d been in before. Her heart began to race. As much as she tried to keep her breathing steady, her fingers began to shake. She couldn’t ask for comfort from her protectors. With Grant so close, she had to be mute.

“I’m there with you, baby. All the way,” Brodie murmured in her ear.

Much to her surprise, her fingertips were on the line of diamonds around her neck. They must have risen to the jewels to seek solace from Brodie. Knowing that her lover had sensed her need encouraged her to carry on and she took a deep breath before Grant opened the conference room door.

She had expected people to be here, but not so many, or maybe not so many ominous ones. The sight of six intimidating men made this once generous space feel much more confined.

“Albert Sutcliffe,” a broad man in a brown suit came to her and held out a hand.

She glanced at Grant for some kind of direction, but got none, so she gave Sutcliffe her hand. “Zara Bandini,” she said in introduction.

He kissed her knuckles and made eye contact while the others in the room paid her no attention. “I apologize for the trauma you incurred on the night you met my nephew Tim,” Sutcliffe said to her.

Grant had moved away from her side, but only by a couple of feet. Still, he said nothing to the revelation Albert Sutcliffe had just made, implying he hadn’t been paying attention to the exchange. Grant probably had enough on his mind. It hadn’t occurred to her that the connection might be referenced, and so she didn’t know how to react. She was saved the trouble of fumbling through the encounter when Grant parted from her to shake the hand of the man in a brilliant white shirt and a stylish hat.

“Kahlil,” Grant said, shaking his hand.

“My superior is not happy,” Kahlil said, drawing his eyes away from Sutcliffe. “We want to conclude dealings.”

Sutcliffe didn’t appear as cold as Kahlil and so far they were the only two to come forward. It was obvious they had no love for each other and Kahlil didn’t even try to appear accommodating.

Sutcliffe didn’t give Kahlil a second look. He maintained his attention on her and Grant. “Once we are satisfied with the results, dealings will conclude in my favor,” Sutcliffe said. A man came in behind him to punctuate Sutcliffe’s arrogance with a menacing glare. Apparently, Sutcliffe hired men to do the cold, evil thing for him.

“You are all too eager.” The voice came from the couch facing the window that she couldn’t see because Kahlil, Sutcliffe, and his man were blocking her view.

“Nykiel Sikorski,” Art said. “He’s a crazy motherfucker.”

The men who were restricting her view parted at the same time someone rose from the couch. The very tall man was sleek and wore a silver grey suit that made him look expensive. While she wouldn’t call him particularly cold, there was an ice in his demeanor. One that suggested he experienced little emotion.

“Let us see what we have before we start wars with each other over it,” Sikorski said.

He went to the conference table and pulled out a chair to seat himself. The other men followed his lead and did the same. Two men dressed in a similar manner to Sikorski stayed standing in front of the window and she was conscious of how they might block Brodie’s line of sight.

“Take a seat, Ms. Bandini,” Sutcliffe said, gesturing at the seat beside his.

Instead of sitting there, she smiled and selected the seat closest to the door, furthest from the men, which just happened to be at the foot of the table. If Brodie had to take action, she didn’t want to block his shot or become an accident.

Grant remained standing and made eye contact with her before retrieving a laptop from a side unit. He moved to the head of the table and opened the computer. Then, after pressing a few buttons, he laid it down for all to see.

Although it was a large screen laptop, it took a few seconds for her to realize what she was looking at. It was a movie or… video feed. Taking in the faces and the features in the room, clarity hit her.

“That’s the ballroom downstairs,” she said, setting her eyes on Grant.

“Yes,” Sutcliffe said, as though what she’d said was explanatory not an exclamation.

“I’ve got it,” Tuck said. “We’re watching the feed with you.” Now she understood how useful Tuck’s skills could be. He had obviously hacked into Grant’s computer, giving the men supporting her a view of what she was seeing.

“I’m staying on you, baby,” Brodie said, more interested in protecting her than seeing what was going on.

Relying on Grant’s earlier statement that no one would get hurt, Zara watched the screen. People were milling around, sipping their champagne while glad-handing. Nothing remarkable was happening. Unsure of what she was supposed to be seeing, Zara kept watching. The people were happy to be at the event and no one seemed to be sick.

Everyone was silent, in this room and the one across the street. They all seemed so intent and she waited for the penny to drop. “That’s one way to do it,” Tuck muttered.

“Check this, Rave,” Art said in the earpiece, but he wasn’t talking to her.

“I’m not taking my eye off the room,” Brodie said. “Talk me through it.”

“Do you see it, girlie?” Art said, though she couldn’t respond.

No one in her room was speaking yet, so she peered closer at the mute screen, attempting to decipher the significance of what they were witnessing, but she couldn’t figure it out. The woman with the sleek blonde French roll in the center of the screen tossed her head back in a wild abandon not typically seen at these events, that was her first clue. When a man propped a hand on the shoulder of a colleague to support his weight, Zara saw that he was laughing. Every face she looked at was contorted in hilarity.

“Nitrous oxide,” Grant said, leaning over to hit a key on the keyboard. The screen froze, then he closed the laptop lid. “This device has proven it can disseminate any gas. We at CI have some compressed concentrated canisters that can be sold with the device. The technology has been refined by our best technicians and can be controlled from anywhere in the world.”

No word about what had happened to those technicians though, and she glimpsed each face for a sign that might imply one of these men were culpable. Nothing jumped out at her. Nothing except how surreal Grant’s pitch was. It was reminiscent of any usual presentation at CI. Except this wasn’t a normal day at the office. Grant was selling death today, though one would be forgiven for not realizing it.

Grant carried on. “Plant a few of these devices in major cities, in hospitals, stadiums, in airports, you trigger them for short amounts of time intermittently, and it would take months for authorities to trace the source. In that time, if you used something communicable then it’s spreading, even while the device is dormant.”

Zara’s mouth fell open and she wanted to call out in protest. Until now, she’d been able to bargain away Grant’s guilt, believing that he didn’t wish anyone harm or that he didn’t understand the gravity of what these criminals would do with the technology. There was no mistaking his intention anymore.

Sensing her need to object, Brodie preempted her outburst. “Easy, baby,” Brodie murmured in her ear, making her shiver, and reminding her of the precariousness of where she was.

The others in the room were unfazed; none appeared to be horrified as she was. “We will have to consult with colleagues,” Sikorski said, speaking for the group without their permission.

Grant nodded as though he’d expected this and it was traditional for there to be a pitch before negotiations commenced. “I understand,” Grant said, bending to spread his hands on the table. “Final bids will be expected within two weeks.”

“And delivery?” Sutcliffe asked and the three prospective buyers all awaited an answer.

Explaining delivery was Grant’s worry. “We have plans to make,” Kahlil said. “We will not delay for—”

“Something unforeseen occurred,” Grant said. His look in her direction suggested that he wanted support or back up. As far as she was concerned, he was looking in the wrong place. “Our main production facility was compromised and my men were killed.”

Now it was their turn to appear horrified. A delay would be unacceptable, but they were fine with killing hundreds or thousands of people. Zara had never considered the priorities of terrorists before. Apparently, they worked to deadlines on a calendar just like the rest of the population. “Interesting,” Sikorski said, drawing out the word. “You have some enemies of your own. Disgruntled customers?”

Grant shook his head. “I assure you that we produce only the highest quality merchandise.”