Drift (Don’t… #8)

Chapter 30 BLOOD TRAIL

Jack wiped tiredly at his eyes, then tossed his parts log onto the coffee table. He didn’t bring serious work home often, but he was still catching up with Ash not being at the garage and working from home as Raif worked in the Oval with Simon. Remote work was okay for stocking up, but not having Ash there on the shop floor meant Jack was back in his shoes with keeping track on the parts going in and out of the storeroom, because Christ knows half of his techs were worse than him for filling out the paperwork and filing it. That meant his own repair jobs made him run into overtime, that and having to wait to catch a lift off Jan after he finished work. So come what—he groaned as he looked at his phone—nearly touching eight, he was again playing catch up with the parts log. He didn’t make it any easier on himself with working with a printout copy, not really trusting himself with his phone and deleting half of his accounts in the process.

He rubbed at his head as Jan padded on through. At least they’d had time to set up the huge Christmas tree in the corner and decorations over the past few days, mostly because it had been so damn good to see Jan fall back in love with the season. Jack could take or leave it nowadays, although he’d prefer to take it and keep it on Welsh shores, away from, well, everything and everyone.

Jack frowned.

How the fuck had Jude managed all those Christmases alone over the years…? How—

Jack screwed his eyes shut just briefly. Don’t… can’t go there, not yet.

“Here.” A glass of orange juice came his way. Jack was off alcohol as a rule with his meds, but more so with the painkillers he’d started to take.

“Thanks.” He downed half of it, but he couldn’t do much to swallow his guilt over putting this shit on Jan—leaving Jude out there alone, even though he knew in his heart Jude would be damn safer out there than he ever would in here. Since Halliday had left a few days ago, Jack had avoided talk on Martin, mostly to avoid all the triggers that came with it. He knew he was an asshole for not taking his BP meds, that he was a bastard for needing to keep Jude away, but he kept to his word of keeping life as calm as possible to avoid pushing anxiety, and ultimately—Martin. Gray had asked him to back down, and he’d honour that, but he’d also take a week to think things through over potentially getting access to Martin’s thoughts then look at the possibility of discussing BP meds again, but it only would be a possibility. Simple in theory, but unease ran under the skin, like Martin stood over by the window, arms folded, not taking his look off Jack like he knew something was coming.

Something had come. Jude. And that…? Jack frowned.

Stop. Don’t go there.

He hadn’t even told his own dad yet. He’d hit break point, and just how fucking stupid did he feel for backing away from a kid because of his own head being thrown out of synch? He should have been able to control his own goddamn head and reactions and at least tell his own old man. But Martin had even denied him that.

Martin hadn’t seen it, or he’d bloody lived for it. Jude looked like a street kid drowning and wanting out, and the last kid to be put on lock down here had turned to Blood Eagle killing in order to cry his hurt out.

No. He couldn’t afford to bring a kid into… this. No safety, no sanity, no timeout cards…. And that brought back more guilt, how a part of him understood why Gray had held off mentioning anything until all the detail had been gathered. Fuck. Jack rubbed at his head.

“Gray’s running late.” Jan sat down next to him as he finished his whiskey, and Jack pulled him over before he flicked the TV on and brought up Netflix. He looked so caught in wanting to say something about Jude, about Martin, but he kept to space and quiet, mostly for Jack’s peace of mind, but also for his own. Jude had thrown them all out of synch.

“Said he’d eaten, though,” said Jack. Light talk it had been. It didn’t feel odd, just… dancing around the ghost of a kid still left in the home with them. “So I’ll just get a coffee on when the call comes through from the main gate that he’s back, save us all legging it out the kitchen if he tries to move for the kettle.” He looked sideways at Jan as a soft snort drifted up. “You get a call through to your mum to find out what she’s doing for Christmas? My old man is spending it with Mrs Booth, here.” He winced. Since Ed’s death, his dad would always be taken with Mrs Booth’s quiet as she worked in the background and handled housecleaning away from Gray’s level of, well, housecleaning. Sometimes he’d help her out with the rota. It wasn’t that there was a romantic connection there between either of them. His old man just looked out for someone who Ed had loved, keeping her company when her quiet mirrored Gray’s.

And Jude. What would he be doing for Christmas…?

Jack stiffened. Stop. Just… stop .

Jan shook his head and grabbed a pillow before dumping it on Jack’s lap and lying down, his whiskey glass going on the floor. “I think… I think she’s seeing someone.”

“Hm?” Jack focused back on Jan and hid a smile as he rested a hand on Jan’s side, more lost to how Jan rested his head down on him, then—“Wait, what? Your old lady’s… seeing seeing someone? Again?”

Jan gave a distracted nod. “I dropped her off from work today, and there was a guy’s shirt in her laundry.”

“Wait—you looked through her laundry? That’s… concerning.”

Chuckling, Jan made a grab for his crown jewels. “No, you asshole. She put a load in as I was there. Too damn quickly as well.”

Jack dodged the threat to his goods by hitting Jan’s hand. “You’ve been around Gray far too long. Could have been one of your sister’s chaps.”

“Too big. We’re talking Hulk size.”

Jack nearly choked on his drink. “Fuck me, Raif? So that’s where he goes off to of a night.”

Jan doubled and couldn’t stop laughing, not for a moment. “You’re telling Ash, then.” He tried to sober up. “But kind of weird, though.”

Jack looked down at him and twisted at a strand of Jan’s hair. “Parents having a sex life, huh?” Jan had struggled as a kid with someone new coming on the scene for his mum, but then who wouldn’t? “Happens, the whole sex and relationship thing.” He pulled a face. “Except for my old man. Christ, there’s definitely no sex for him.”

“Shit.” Jan glanced back. “Maybe the shirt was your dad’s, huh? They have been spending a lot of time together when he’s not with Mrs Booth.”

“Get out of here.” Jack shoved at his shoulder, nearly toppling him off as Jan choked a laugh. “Don’t come here with that shit. My dad’s sworn off any of that… that s-word that shalt not be named where he’s concerned. Ever. I made him sign a contract, saying so.”

Jan buried his fading chuckle in Jack’s thigh, then he pinched Jack’s juice, downed the rest of it, and settled in his lap. They’d both got back around seven, and Jack hadn’t complained that Jan had wanted time with his mum, then taken his turn in the kitchen and rustled up some chili. Because this here? On the settee, running a distracted touch through Jan’s hair as Don’t Look Up started playing…? The selfish part to him wanted this no matter how long it took.

Jan twisted slightly and eyed him up. “A movie?” He narrowed his look. “A disaster one at that?”

Jack weighed up his options here, then opted for a shrug. “Kind of hoping that if I start to watch enough of them, the shit will start to skip us by.”

Jan watched him for a moment, saying nothing, then he cupped Jack’s neck and pulled him down for the gentlest of kisses before offering a cheeky wink up. “You get me, you finally, finally get me, Jack.”

Jack laughed softly and shoved at Jan’s shoulder again to get him back watching the movie. Jan still didn’t talk much about Chris, but that was okay. Jack didn’t expect forgiveness or understanding, but Jan, he was still here, still willing to watch a movie with him, and that’s all he could ask for. He’d spoken to Gray about ways to compensate Chris, but Gray had denied him any say. Jack understood it, how any extra money thrown Chris’s way could help point a finger back his way. So the guilt hit more with how Jan had been the one to take Chris’s workload. Beyond keeping him fed and watered, Jack couldn’t even help him there. There should have been some repercussion. He swore he saw that in Jan’s look, and he didn’t blame him one bit.

Jack set the lounge lights to off, then mumbled under his breath when it left him struggling to find the volume. “Seriously?” Now he had to find the button for the lights again and only managed it after the third try.

A click of the front door came through, and Jan lifted his head off Jack’s lap as a sharp draught of cold eventually intruded on the warmth.

Jan frowned Jack’s way. “Security check?”

Jack shrugged. Daily walk-arounds by Ray and his team ran like clockwork, and this wasn’t a registered one if it was. It also wasn’t Gray. A call would have come up from the gate. Jan eased up, forcing Jack to sit up as well, and this was what really ate into Jack’s skin about Ray: him and his security checks got in the way of home without apology or regret.

And there: this was the really shite side to living in a home that needed top-notch security, how there were never any really personal moments without a schedule put in place. It was why he was loving Wales more and more.

True to form, Ray came into the reception hall, head down, taken with something on the floor as he turned his head this way, that.

“Ray. What…?” Jan eased slowly to his feet, and Jack was right there with him.

Mud stained Ray’s feet, knees, hands, almost if he’d been crawling in the undergrowth at some point, leaving his hair wild with the rummage, but…

Naked.

Ray stood in the reception hall, stark-bollocking naked all but for the gun gripped in his hand.

For Ray to be here outside of hours, for him to be here, naked, and carrying a gun? Something had to be seriously, seriously wrong.

Jan’s look shot to the floor-to-ceiling windows, but the blinds were drawn, blocking any view of a threat outside. As Ray shadowed the doorway, still following something on the floor, Jack reached to grab Jan back, away from the window and give Ray lead over whatever the fuck it was out there that got him naked and holding a gun in here.

“ Fucking don’t .” The gun levelled Jack’s way, and life ran so damn still, so damn fast for Jack.

“Why… why her , you bastard?” A tear slipped down Ray’s cheek. “Why not me? Someone who can fight back?”

“Ray.” Jan levelled a hand, but Jack grabbed his arm, quickly shaking his head.

Ray started to step this way, that, his look back on the floor, face creased as if he tried his hardest not to step in something. “So much… so much fucking red….”

The floor was clean but for muddy footprints, and Jack tried to pull Jan behind him in that moment, a very bad feeling twisting his gut.

“ I said fucking don’t, you cunt .” Ray focused in on him with the gun. “Jan…” He roughed a tear away from his cheek, then called Jan over with a nod of his head. “Get here, son. Make it fast. Move away from him.”

“Ray, I… I.” Jan shrugged. “I don’t under—”

“ Fucking move .”

Jan jolted, and Jack triggered the silent panic button system hooked up to the remote, sickness biting at his insides with how he was the threat in Ray’s eyes, how if the panic button was ever hit, Ray should be the one to answer it, only—

“ Now ,” snarled Ray.

Jack quickly steadied a hand Ray’s way as well. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” he said quickly, quietly. “He’s coming. Right, Jan? Go on.”

“What?” Jan shot him a look, and Jack gave a sharp nod, then focused back on Ray.

“See, no trouble. We… I want no trouble.”

Ray laughed, hard, and more tears fell free as Jan inched his way over to him. “Cause the shit, but never answer for it, do you, maggot? That’s you. Everything swept under the carpet, a good goddamn wage packet thrown my way to buy my tongue.” Ray’s hold on the gun steadied. “ My silence cost me fucking Shelley .”

Shelley? What? Jack frowned, as thrown as Jan with trying to sort this out, then as Jan reached Ray, Ray caught hold of his shirt cuff and tugged him to the side.

Jack almost, almost shifted with a snarl, everything inside hitting a wall with how Jan always got tugged away from him, but whatever ran through Ray’s eyes, it was still part-fuelled on protection, on protecting Jan. And Jan had just gotten a few steps closer to the front door, only Ray still had a hold on him.

“Gray….” Jack nodded. “Gray’ll be back soon, okay? Why not let Jan go, if you’re worried? I won’t try anything. I’ll stay right here with you. Then us, we—”

“ Shelley .” Spit came out on Ray’s snarl. “ I just want fucking Shelley. What… What the fuck did you do to her, you mad bastard ?”

Sweat coated Ray’s body, and the whites to his eyes took on a redness that called fever, one that only kept eating into him.

“Look,” said Jack, “I don’t know what’s going on. Shell—”

“ Don’t say her fucking name . I… I—” Fresh tears soaked Ray’s cheeks, and he wiped them blindly away with his arm. “I just need to know where she is. Please. For god’s sake, please, Jack. Not Shelley. Not her, okay?”

Shelley usually kept to herself in the gatehouse, offering a wave over, but not much more, and—“Call her?” Jack nodded. “Call her, shall I? Find out where she is, yeah?”

Ray’s look shot back up the stairs. “ Shelley—Shelley .” He shouted it continuously over his shoulder, and Jack jolted, nearly dropping his hold on his phone as he tugged it free.

“No. I meant call her on the phone.” Fuck. Ray had lost it, but how the gun shook in his hand as he waved it about scared him more. “She always carries hers, right?”

“Don’t play fucking head games with me. I’m not Gray.” The gun levelled Jan’s way.

“ No. No no no no .” Jack ducked slightly, two hands raised Ray’s way. “No games, never with Jan, please. Never with Shelley. Just… if you think she’s hurt, she might hear her phone, right? She—”

Steve skidded into the hallway behind Jack, and Jack almost cried relief, only with the gun levelled Jan’s way—“ Back off ,” snarled Jack. “Just back the fuck off.”

“What?” Steve’s look went from him, to Jan, to the gun on Jan… to finally not being able to look away from Ray blocking the main door as he stood there, naked. “What the Jesus H Christ…?”

“ Shelley ,” snarled Ray, and the call of her name was followed by a heated security code. “He’s… Jack’s got her somewhere in here,” he cried out. “He smashed her fucking head in.”

“ What ?” Steve tore his attention off Ray, and Jack knew he was fucked with the code Ray had just called out. A takedown came on the back of it, four-point restraints, sedatives… because he was the nutjob here, right? Ray the professional. Trusted. Gray’s righthand bastard man.

Anger should have come, but instead Jack raised his hands to his head, utterly backed down, forced all feeling away beyond taking to any goddamn corner without Gray here, because with that gun Jan’s way, he fucking make a home in that goddamn corner if he had to.

“Okay, okay,” Jack said flatly as Steve buffeted him from behind, tugging an arm down and twisting it behind his back. “I—”

“ I’ll fucking kill you and him if you don’t tell me, J— ”

Someone shifted up to Ray, and a hard and fast elbow went to Ray’s face, once, twice, a third time as Ray’s gun was also twisted out of his hand in the same breath. Then Ray was put in a choke hold, and the grip didn’t loosen in any way shape or form until he blacked out. Ray was lowered to the floor and the gun picked up.

“Back off,” Light said flatly to Steve, the gun levelled his way. “Now.”

Steve eased his hold off Jack, breathing heavy, suddenly raising both hands.

A moment later, Light lowered the gun and chucked his phone Steve’s way. “Get an ambulance here through Cal, Gray’s father. He’s first contact for an emergency if Gray isn’t here to answer it. Warn him Ray’s potentially infected with a potential unknown drug that heightens aggression and causes hallucinations. He’s been given the upgrade alert threat. Then call Gray and get him home.” Another code went his way, one that would ensure Gray would get here. Jack knew it: he’d used it most of his fucking life.

Steve’s heavy breathing hit the quiet.

“Fucking move .”

He bolted on Light’s last snarl, and Jack shifted in the same breath. “You okay?” He took Jan back a step into the hall, into the light, checking him over, needing to make sure he was all right.

Jan nodded. “You?” He was shaking, but so too was Jack.

Jack roughly pulled him in. “Fuck. Just fuck.” He screwed his eyes shut and held on, his touch shaking as he ran through Jan’s hair and looked at Light.

Light tore off his grip, taking Jan back a step. “He cut you?” He shoved up Jan’s shirt sleeve, checking where Ray had gripped his arm.

“No.” Jan frowned his way. “What…?” He tried to pull away. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Light flicked him a look. “He’s running a fever and naked, Jan. Ray’s got something in his system, and the only ones playing biological weapon are the Night-walkers that Jude’s run around with. I need you to get washed down in the lab upstairs. We’re used to handling chemical spills. But after that, we’re going to need to isolate you for a few hours just to make sure you’re okay.”

“ What the —” Sucking in a hard breath, Jan took a step away from them both, fear crashing into his look over passing anything on to them. He started to check his own arm as Jack snarled with him being forced to stand alone and do it.

“No cuts,” said Jan, holding up his hands. “See?”

Light nodded. “We still need to get you cleaned because I don’t know how this is passed on. Can you strip down to your boxers?”

Jan groaned, but started to unbutton his shirt as George came on through with a few other armed night guards. Light sent quiet talk their way, asking them to get clean up material from the lab and give Jan privacy.

Giving a frown, Jack went to get a coat off the coat stand by the door for Jan, but Light shook his head, his eyes calling out limiting contact to material.

Fuck. Just what kind of shit were they dealing with here? What had Light so… off with needing to do a hard-and-fast cleanup? Gray had mentioned something about a drug, but it had gone over Jack’s head with everything else.

“George will bring down a foil blanket for you, Jan. You use that, okay?” Light said to him, and he got a nod back.

Shouting came from outside, and never more relieved, Jack briefly closed his eyes as Shelley bolted in, eyes wild, shirt bloodied as she looked around. A large bump the size of an egg made a home just above her right eye, blood crusted down her cheek, but she seemed oblivious to it as her look rested on Ray. She was down by his side a moment later, and no one stopped her.

“Baby… Jesus… What did you do? What did you do?”

Jack crouched down but kept his distance. Shelley was bleeding. It looked like she’d been in a fight, and if that fight had been with Ray, she was possibly already marked for isolation. It was probably why even Light hadn’t stepped in.

“Shell,” Jack said gently. “You okay?”

A look skirted his way, a nod. “It was like I wasn’t there,” she said quickly. “He came down after his shower, at first humming a song to himself, then muttering the potatoes were burning. They weren’t.”

Jack pointed at the vicious bump to her head. “How’d you get that?”

Shelley felt along it, then stayed quiet, too damn quiet. Jack knew the silence. How the walls demanded it around here.

“I fell.”

Fuck. Jack’s heart fell with it, and he shook his head. “I think Light’s right that he’s been given something.”

“A drug…?” A tear slipped her cheek, but relief hit her eyes. “He said there was maggots in the fruit, I tried to tell him there wasn’t, but then blood and hair. He said there was blood and hair on them.” She shrugged. “He grabbed me by the hair as he spoke, almost as if he needed blood and hair to be on them, and all I remember is hitting the corner of the table.”

Jack held two fingers up. “How many.”

“Tuh… two.”

“Good, but we’re gonna get him to the hospital. You need to go too, okay?” He looked up at Light and a nod came his way. “Just…” Jack frowned her way. “Just know I’m sorry, okay? This isn’t Ray or his fault.”

“Not your place to be sorry, Jack. Not his.”

Jack nodded. “Yeah it is mine,” he said softly, and he eased to his feet.

His look rested on Light, and after a moment, Jack rested a grip on the back of his neck and tugged him in closer. “Thank you,” he said roughly, and he glanced Jan’s way before finding Light again. There’d been no accusation in Jan’s eyes, but for a moment, one stupid moment, Jack had thought Ray was right, that he done something to Shelley and just couldn’t damn well remember. “And I mean that, whole-fucking-heartedly, kid.” He swiped at Light’s jaw, once… twice.

Light patted his arm, then crouched down next to Shelley. Nothing was said Jack’s way, but nothing needed to be said either. Light had read the scene and trusted the detail that he saw, not what he’d heard, and Jack had needed that… fast-lane intelligence. Like fuck had he.

Rubbing at his head, the throbbing that kicked in, Jack went to step back over to Jan, but Jan took a step back, shaking his head, hurt in his look with needing to remind Jack about contamination. He didn’t want to risk Jack, and that… that….

A trickle came from Jack’s nose, and he wiped across it. Blood stained the pads as he glanced down a moment later.

“Oh fuck. Yeah, it would be you now, wouldn’t it?”

Jan tried to come back in, but Light warned him off as he got slowly to his feet. “Don’t,” Jan whispered calmly Jack’s way. “Don’t fight it, baby. Time.” He nodded. “He’s asking for it now. Try and offer him a little trust, please.”

Jack held Jan’s look, the calmness that filtered through, how Jack made a promise to try and not push the fight and hurt everything over there in the process, and he nodded, just the once. “Time…,” he said gently. “I just wanted a little more to say sorry…”

“I know, baby…” Jan nodded as a tear slipped free, but he started to sound like he came from down a tunnel. “We both goddamn know, ba…”

Gray stood outside the MC ICU hospital room, his quiet focused on the loss of fight on the bed. Ray had regained consciousness in the ambulance, and it had taken four MC staff to restrain him. He’d gone downhill from there, and the decline had been so fast once he’d been sedated. Now a ventilator kept him breathing, an IV prevented dehydration, and a constant stream of painkillers tried to ease the high temperature running his body as other medication tried to reduce his aggression. The main worry was the swelling in the brain.

Along with Jan, Shelley had showed no symptoms of a drug running her system, but both of them were being kept in isolation under obs to make sure. Shelley had fought to stay with Ray, Jan just as pissed off with being locked away, but even with partial toxicology reports from the UK Health Security Agency overseeing Ray’s care, the risk was too great without knowing exactly what ran riot in Ray’s system beyond an unknown drug causing swelling on the brain.

No one had survived this drug yet, and Ray’s rapid decline called he was left fighting for his life, so Jan? He wasn’t getting near it.

Gray gave a rough sigh, a long look at Ray, a deep regret that Ray’s history with Jack had pushed the madness found in the drug, and he turned away. Ray was more than staff, but Gray shut down any emotional ties to everyone from here on in.

A warning shot had been fired across their bow tonight. Someone knew Jude’s phone was being tracked with more specialist equipment. The signal had been cut to it from someone outside the manor this afternoon.

Gray had been taken out of the playing field not long after. He’d arrived an hour after the ambulance, and he was on his second round of checks up on Ray. A Conservative politician by the name of Wright had stapled his mother’s mouth and eyes shut before sewing Disappointment into her stomach. Then he’d committed suicide. But there’d been no bone marrow syphoning from either, leaving behind a sense of a scene being rushed. Getting that call from Steve had shown why.

The Night-walkers had needed a distraction, one that would get the culler away from home shores so the warning could be given. But the mentality behind it was unstable. The play was vicious, spiteful, and it had the echo of it all being done by kids into stone-throwing to keep him away.

Had it come from Jude himself? Had he been the one to find Simon’s specialist tracking device?

His DNA had been a match for the evidence taken from Wales.

With a long last look at Ray, the damage he’d taken, Gray took a coffee from the coffee machine and headed through to the lab down the corridor.

Like Gray, the UK Health Agency officers needed close access to Ray to run tests, so for now, the MC was their home, with the staff kept away from the lab and Ray’s room in ICU. Jan was in the next room down, Shelley opposite his, but with the late hour, quiet had finally settled with even Jan losing his fight and finding some peace in exhausted sleep.

Gray wanted him kept that way.

Towards the back of the lab and away from where Health Agency officers worked, Light stood looking out of the window. Raif and Simon worked at a laptop, and Simon’s look Light’s way said he wasn’t happy he’d been in the Oval with Raif when security had been breached, leaving Light out on his own in his lab on the first floor, handling neutralising Cal’s assigned chemical. The Oval was one of two safe rooms and automatically went on lockdown when Jack had triggered the alarm. So now, Simon fought the same that Light did, how he was driven to work, but if it came at the price of being cut off from Light, patience was pushed too far.

Good. Gray liked that aggressive look coming from Simon.

Stood by a whiteboard with Gray’s notes on the Nightwalkers written across it, Martin’s look was no different. Patience had been pushed to breaking, and all that left was… Martin. Yeah, a good portion of that was for the threat against Jan, against Jack, but there’d always be a cut off point for Martin where his own survival mattered most. How with the new threat of Jack pulling him back, it had left Martin open for being taken down too as he’d faced Ray. Drugs had kept Martin away from Vince, but there’d been none in his system with Ray.

Damage was being done on both sides of the trust fence, but for the moment it stayed buried with Martin’s focus on the whiteboard and details Gray had piece together over the past month. But Jack had kept to his word of allowing Martin his time.

Larry, one of the Health Agency officers stood back, watching the notes he made, and it was odd how Martin never even acknowledged he was there.

As Gray went over with his coffee and gave Larry a nod, Martin circled the pinpricks marks on each victim’s body.

“Ray’s wife.” No desexualisation came from Martin towards Ray now, but a look the board’s way came off Light as he spoke. Light looked torn, caught between keeping his distance and not, but Gray didn’t push either. It looked like he wanted in, but it had to be a step he took himself.

“We know she mentioned that he’d cut his mouth on the candid fruit,” added Martin. He’d already written it down on the board. “We also know that she bought them at a supermarket just a few hours prior to infection, and that she didn’t remember anyone having contact with her. But she did mention that she stopped at her mother’s for half an hour before coming home.” Martin added that detail. “The idiot breathing down my neck from the Health Agency has run tests and found glass shards in the fruit itself, so someone did get access to them via an injection that planted the glass inside. But with how these assholes like to play hide and go freak , I doubt Larry here came up with anything on the samples.” He shook his head. “Even with the checks run on food supplies that are brought into the manor, glass wouldn’t have been traceable.”

“Hmm.” No it wouldn’t have been. Gray picked up his own marker and added PTSD next to Ray’s name, plus the medication he was taking for it. The politician came next along with ADHD.

Gray circled the list of mental disorders. “All looking to target these.” That was more than obvious now.

That took Larry’s attention as Martin stood reading them over, a frown crossing his brow.

“You see what’s missing on that list?” said Martin.

Gray tilted his head, then wrote one more word away from those he’d circled.

Psychopath.

Although today’s specialist talk leaned more towards cancelling the psychopath classification and bunching it under DID. Gray preferred psychopath, because that’s what he was.

Martin nodded, and he seemed to think for a moment before holding out his hand. “Phone.”

After eyeing him for a moment, Gray handed his over after unlocking it.

Martin searched through for something, then handed it over. “You know anything about that?”

“MAOA?” Gray read the paper. “The supposed warrior gene.”

“Hm. It’s something Halliday mentioned a few years back during sectioning,” Martin added eventually. “Mostly to try and reason the madness, bless his I really want a psychopath as a pet socks. He theorised that MAOA picks up the term warrior gene because, when they studied a group of psychopaths, manifestations of aggression in them could be linked back to that gene.” A snort. “They were born with it, so to speak.”

Gray thought it over. “So find the gene responsible, someone could heighten those aggressions via that gene.” He shook his head, then tapped each condition. “There’s too many different disorders here, too many unrelated genes.”

Larry from the Health Agency finally came in and nodded. “Each disorder has a highway of different genes that trigger each disorder, and where this warrior gene may present in a psychopath, they may not be with these. And psychopaths aren’t being targeted, right, so…?”

Gray frowned, then drew the shape of an umbrella around the disorders. “But maybe they liked the idea of the warrior gene theory.” He wrote it at the top of the umbrella. “So instead they find something that can exacerbate something in the whole spectrum of disorders in general: aggression? Only they steer clear of psychopaths.”

Giving a frown, breaking his standoff, Light came over and stood by Larry as he looked at the umbrella Gray had drawn around the conditions. After a moment, he took the report Larry had been holding.

“Fuck,” breathed Light, and he looked at Larry. “Fucking has to be.”

Gray took the report off him after Light tapped at something on the final page.

“If no drugs were detected, what search does it leave when it comes to swelling on the brain beyond blunt trauma and drugs?” added Light.

Gray looked it over.

Test of serum/cerebrospinal fluid (CSF), trace for… IgM antibodies….

Gray looked at Larry. “A fucking virus? You’re testing for an unclassified virus not a drug? When did you first suspect it wasn’t a street drug?”

Larry jolted at Gray’s hard tone. “There was nothing to tell.” He tapped the file. “It was my working theory from a few days ago over just how fast and violent the whole human system shut down after infection. I was hoping our live patient could confirm the theory, but we still can’t trace what it is, just that it’s giving every symptom of a fast-reproducing virus. I think this is an unclassified, manmade strain, which is why we can’t test for it.”

“Manmade virus .” That changed everything. “I should have been notified as soon as you had a working theory,” said Gray. “That’s synthetic virology, that’s—”

Scattered locations… testing response. A warrior gene theory. Or a version of it that wouldn’t prejudice. One that drove all disorders deeper into hell.

Shit. Gray took his phone off Martin and upgraded the threat level to Critical with Thorn and across all agencies. This had the potential to move from a localised testing phase into mass infection on a major city.

“Bloodbourne virus.” That came off Light as he pointed at the board. “It’s taken a lot of planning and teamwork to target one victim in any given location with a potential virus transmitted through the blood.” He frowned. “That’s got to be a plus. Would they have the manpower for anything beyond the limits of a couple of homes? Infection would be harder at city level.”

He’d seen where Gray’s head was going, but only partly.

Gray quickly shook his head. “They’re feeding us only what they want us to see. We’re working with a geneticist not doctor, and look at the MO. The hits so far have been across the UK, across different demographics: male, female, young, old, rich… poor.” He wiped a hand over his face as Light’s eyes widened.

“Virology evolution?” mumbled Light. “They’re going to move from bloodborne to airborne transmission?”

“With some bloodborne viruses, only addition of a vector is needed for the mutation to be theoretically possible to make a shift to airbourne,” said Gray. “And…. Mind games. Fuck. They’re feeding us information on only one type of strain and victim so that we only work on one potential strain, one type of victim.”

As Raif and Simon came over, Gray looked back. “Give me all the intel you’ve collected on Jude and who he’s staying with. He was there in Wales, so he damn well knows something about this virus. Ray’s wife was also followed after we lost the signal to the phone, and they came right here, so either Jude told someone, or he’s being watched at home.” Yeah, Jude was damn well mixed up in all of this somehow. “Main point being,” he said, “if they are working a virus, you can goddamn bet they’re playing vaccines too so as not to poison their own. We need both. We need Jude and who he’s feeding back to.”

Raif nodded. “I tracked his location via the phone, but despite all the ill signs, something’s off here.”

Simon handed Gray the iPad he’d been working on.

Jude stood in the kitchen of an old townhouse, unpacking a duffel bag of medical supplies. A man sat next to him, holding some tablets, and the image from the drone was up close and clear enough to catch a scar running left to right of the man’s throat.

“That’s Jackson,” said Raif. “This particular nest of his is in an old townhouse in Cromer Road, a street in one of London’s most rundown areas of Barking and Dagenham.”

“The tattoos of Saint and Sinner are gone off Jude’s forearms,” mumbled Simon. “So too are the two white highlights from his fringe.”

Pure jet blackness covered Jude’s eyes, and Gray nodded. Jude had exposed his face and tattoos for a reason, no doubt also running with the confidence that reports would go out with an English-Korean kid with highlights in his hair too…. With focus on him, he’d get the Redhead hidden, out of harm’s way. But he’d make sure that image gave one version of he was, and he’d change it all once he got away. He was used to shifting skins in order to avoid detection as well.

Simon focused Gray’s way. “At Raif’s suggestion, we also kept a track on any reports of medical theft over the past two days. Jessop’s Pharmacy came up.” He swiped at his iPad and handed it back to Gray with a long list of stolen goods.

Gray wiped at his mouth. Hitting a pharmacy was another strike of ill Jude’s way.

“That’s not a virology haul.” Light started thumbing down the list. “That’s basic stock needed to take bulk care of more than twenty people.. See: Amoxicillin, Candesartan, Sodium Valproate, Gliclazide for type two diabetes, clobazam … plus basic items to fill out first-aid kits.”

“Or stock for something bigger about to go down, and they are there at the table, sorting a drug haul,” said Gray quietly. The oestrogen was a little out of the norm, but to Gray there was enough stock taken to last a few months. But no, nothing that could really be broken down and used in a virus or a cure, but maybe stocking up for something larger to go down.

“CCTV caught nothing at Jessop’s, cameras were taken out,” said Simon. “Raif said the laser pointer tech was only used by two groups: Jackson’s and a man called Essex’s. Jessop’s wasn’t on either turf, and Raif said only Jackson goes wide to avoid detection.”

As wide as Wales. This really wasn’t looking good for any of Jackson’s lot.

“You want them all pulling in?” asked Raif.

Gray glanced Light’s way. “No.” Jude and his crew were runners like Light, only Jude and his crew could get further and wider a whole lot faster. Jude also knew London streets like Light never would.

“Okay.” Raif nodded. “Jackson, then, the man here.” He tapped at the image of the man with the scorched rope mark around his throat. “He’s a bastard on the street, but…?” He gave a sigh. “This is why all this is odd. He’s usually a good man if you can get into his crew, feeding… clothing… giving his people a roof over their heads if they can prove they can earn their bed. He’s split across five townhouses like this and considered the best at feeder level. I agree going in hard on anyone there will get him running and pulling rank tighter for one reason only here.”

Raif scrolled through the iPad, and images of young kids came up in the house Jude had been caught in, one looking as young as eleven.

Kids. A lot of. Oh. Gray tightened his jaw. Now wasn’t that just… fucking peachy.

Raif seemed to know where Gray went with that. “No. Jackson keeps this a young coop, but not of Night-walkers, last I saw.”

Martin turned his ear Raif’s way, and Raif looked at him. “Not for what you’re thinking either, or it wasn’t back when I knew him. He keeps his pips away from his adult crew for safety reasons: no drugs, a strict no-touch policy, otherwise they’re kicked out. He’ll be more likely to fly the coop with his pips here if he catches a bad whiff of anyone around his home, especially if he’s involved in this somehow. But there is a plus side to Jude being in this house of his.”

He swiped through the iPad again, and a row of musical instruments lined up along the one wall.

“Most kids here aren’t feeders. They usually don’t come with Night-walker skills,” Raif said quietly. “They earn their beds through street performance. So the way into Jude here?” He looked Gray’s way. “You want to know who found out about Simon’s phone and took out Ray, we need a street performer to get in and talk on their level without pushing anyone’s run buttons.”

“They have one,” Light said flatly.

As Simon flicked a look Light’s way, Raif looked him up and down. “Jude’s seen you. He knows where you base. If he is with them, you’ll be handed over.”

“So would anyone else walking in there at this point,” Light said flatly. “I can get out. But with me being there, Jude will also know there’ll be backup behind me. He took his mask off because he knew he’d been caught, that enticement games had called him in and caught him out. The threat of not knowing where Gray’s team is could keep him from bolting or saying anything if he is involved in all of this and Jackson isn’t.”

That made clear sense to Gray. Light had also turned twenty-one, too old for this Jackson’s young coop in that sense maybe, but he still carried that young rocker look and could pull off nineteen, also that need to sleep with how he seemed to walk most nights.

And one thing he had was musical talent.

Gray held Light’s look. “You’ll be stepping into culler territory. Mine. Can you live with that on your conscience? I need to know who got access to that phone.”

“There’s no cullers here,” he said flatly. “When it comes to anyone stepping into home territory like they did last night, there’s only family.”

Gray cupped the back of Light’s neck. He’d damn well needed to hear what he’d seen on the CCTV last night, when Light had gone in with Ray and protected Jack and Jan. That Jack had been right: when it did come to family, there really was no semantic difference between killer and culler now, only the psychopaths, only them. “More than fucking agreed, boy.”

Gray let him go, and if comeback was expected off Simon over walking the same line as Gray for a while, none came, just a professional walk to Light’s side and a whisper in his ear as Raif joined them and started talking detail. Even better. Gray expected no less off Simon.

As Martin came and rested back against the board with a fold of arms, Gray caught a shiver with a whisper that came his way as well.

“The warrior gene umbrella theory,” Martin said quietly. “Fact or fiction, it’s perhaps why you’ve gotten a warning to back off. Something’s got them sending a warning only.”

Gray looked his way.

“To them, you carry it.” Martin flicked a look at Light. “So does he.”

Gray glanced Light’s way.

“That tells me they’ve tested it on our ilk, and it’s had a reaction they don’t want. Because out of all the conditions you marked on this board,” Martin said eventually, “psychopaths are being avoided. They’re avoiding us for a reason, and warning you as a psychopath to do the same.”

A breath teased Gray’s ear.

“Take the warning. Don’t get pricked, princess.” It came so softly, and there was almost a smile in it. “You make damn sure Light doesn’t either.”

Gray nodded, then looked his way. “Jack agreed to back off and give you space.” He kept the details brief over what had gone on, over catching a memory belonging to Martin. “It comes down to it, don’t fight him for control. He backed off and gave it you last night.”

Martin watched him a moment, then—“He doesn’t get to see inside my head. He can’t cope with what’s inside his own. That’s why I’ve always stood here. Security will always be mine.”

Gray gave a rough sigh and nodded. Martin was set for a fight regardless. Then as Light came back their way, Martin moved off and gave them space.

“Simon’s gonna set me up with body cams and audio,” he said to Gray, watching Martin. “I’ll go in early in the morning.”

Gray nodded, then pulled Light to a stop as he went to walk away. “Watch out for the virus. Think protection and you get out with it. You get me Jude as well, got it?”

Light nodded. “Poisons I know how to handle. Jude…?” He gave a small snort. “He’s a work in progress.” He moved off a moment later, and after a moment, Gray looked back at the board as a call came through.

“What help do you need your end?” asked Cal over the phone, and some of the tension eased in Gray, more specifically because it came from his father in MI6 in particular. Gray trusted him.

“Get the PM and the cabinet isolated and in lockdown in previously unused locations. No Cobra meetings.” The Monarchy had already been moved outside of the UK over a month ago. “Talk to Simon about communication outside of normal channels. These marks know secret service tech and the deep web, especially our security service history over using it for classified material. You need a code system they won’t have knowledge of when it comes to coordination meetings from here on in. Make sure Brennan and his Met know about the new channels and threat upgrade.”

“And public measures? What do you want initiated to get people off the streets?”

“Anything but a new variant of Covid-19,” he said evenly. “Get them back in their homes. School shutdowns as well as non-essential workers. They work from home, going back to wearing masks if they go outside.” Quiet. “When it comes to rural, keep people to masks and working from home where possible.”

“Okay, that should keep the streets mostly clear.”

Gray frowned and thought it over. “Put pressure in hotels and hostels. Get them to open up shelter where they can for the kids on the street without a place to go to. Get as many of them off the streets as you can as well.”

“Any lead on the location of the marks and virus itself?”

Gray held Light’s look. “Yeah. We’ll know more come sunup. Keep your focus on getting the streets cleared just in case. Can you also put pressure on the head of the Health Agency here with us? They held back over mentioning an upgrade from drug to virus. That I needed to know despite the lack of evidence to back their claims up. We’re working with an unknown, so I need to know details when they do, not forty-eight hours later.” He paused for a moment. “And thank you for taking the code over Ray.”

“I’ll get Susan herself involved. She’s director of the agency and the best out there. It will mean moving Ray over to her now we’re potentially looking at airborne, but I’ll handle that.” Quiet. “And you’re welcome, son. Always.”