Chapter 7
Dr. Reeves's waiting room smelled like lavender and lies. Or maybe the latter was my bias, knowing what the staff here had done to my babies. I bounced Melaina gently against my shoulder, her warm weight grounding me even as my pulse hammered.
"Settle down before you give us away," Nana whispered beside me, flipping through a parenting magazine with one hand. The other rested on the handle of the double stroller where Nyssa and Thaniel dozed, their tiny chests rising and falling in perfect rhythm.
I wanted to point out that she was the one being suspicious, openly cataloguing every person in the room.
The receptionist—a young Fae with pointed ears barely concealed by glamour—typed away at her computer, occasionally glancing up with practiced smiles.
This "routine checkup" had been my idea.
A calculated risk that made my stomach clench.
We'd spent an hour the night before arguing about how deep the rot went.
"It can't be the entire place," Clio had insisted. "The collective was built by supernaturals who wanted something better. A safe place for our people to get medical care without risking exposure to humans."
She hadn't been wrong. Not everyone had access to a healer. Corvus Medical Group was supposed to fill that gap. Progressive healthcare for magical families who fell through the cracks.
"That's what makes it perfect," Stella had said, her fingers flying across her keyboard. "Hide a conspiracy inside an institution people trust. Who's going to question the doctors helping their kids?"
"We need to know how deep it goes." I'd shifted in my seat, already dreading the appointment I'd scheduled for the next morning. "But the pattern Jean-Marc found means it's more than a couple of rogue staff."
Clio's expression had crumpled. Just a little. Enough that I knew she was starting to see it too. "What are we saying? Is the entire collective compromised? That every doctor, every nurse, every person working there is part of this?"
"Institutions can be corrupted from the top down," Aidon had said, his voice measured and careful. "Most of the staff could be completely innocent and oblivious."
"Someone is clearly giving those orders," I'd said quietly. "And whoever they are, they've been doing it for a long time."
I couldn't afford to second-guess my decision now. We'd made it, and here I was with Nana as we'd agreed. Stella waited in the car outside at the ready. Jean-Marc was monitoring remotely through the phone tucked in my diaper bag. I’d left whatever app he was using to scan magical signatures open.
Tarja was back at the house, likely curled on her bed, but she was at the front of my mind.
I could feel her presence thrumming through our bond like a second heartbeat.
Her consciousness pressed against mine, steady and watchful.
She usually gave me more space, but she wanted to get a feel for the situation.
“All clear so far,” I thought at her, knowing she'd catch the thread of my awareness.
“That means little. Someone there identified the babies.” Her voice was tinged with impatience. She didn't like being left behind, but we couldn't put her at risk.
"Melaina, Nyssa, and Thaniel Duedonne?" The nurse stood in the doorway—not Miranda, thank the gods. This was someone new, young, with kind eyes.
I rose, shifting Melaina in my arms. Nana stood too, slinging her enormous purse over her shoulder as she pushed the double stroller. Knowing her, that purse probably contained everything from an incendiary potion to a taser.
The nurse smiled as we approached and led us back.
I catalogued details like my life depended on it—because it might.
Security cameras in the upper corners. Two examination rooms on the left, one on the right.
A supply closet at the end of the hall. An exit sign glowing red above the second door on the right.
The nurse showed us into the first room on the left. "If you can remove their clothes, the doctor will be in shortly. I'll grab their weight after she's done."
Dr. Reeves entered minutes later, her usual warm smile in place, salt-and-pepper hair pulled back in a ponytail. "How are our little firecrackers doing?"
She washed her hands at the small sink while I settled Melaina on the examination table and removed her outfit. Nana automatically put her hand on my daughter's warm belly while I grabbed Thaniel from the stroller.
"They're growing like weeds." I injected all the maternal pride I felt into my voice. It helped stop me from barking questions at the doctor. "Though we've had some... challenging nights."
"Oh?" Dr. Reeves's hands began their gentle exploration, checking reflexes, muscle tone, and the way their eyes tracked movement. She was nothing but professional. Still, I watched those hands and searched for any hint of deception.
Through the bond, Tarja sent me her impressions. “She genuinely cares. But there's something hidden underneath.”
Anxiety threatened to crack my calm surface. "Something is frightening them. All three of them, actually. Last night, they started screaming in perfect synchronization at 2 AM. Strangest thing."
Dr. Reeves's eyebrows rose. "That's unusual for infants this young. Any other symptoms? Fever, loss of appetite, changes in magical manifestation?"
Beside me, Nana had gone very still. The kind of still that meant she was listening to every word and filing it away for later dissection. "Why would you ask that?"
"We found magical residue on the nursery window," I said before the doctor could answer. "Marks that weren't there at bedtime."
Something flickered across Dr. Reeves's face. There and gone so fast I would have missed it if I hadn't been watching her so closely.
“She's afraid, but I'm not picking up guilt from her,” Tarja sent. “She knows what that residue means and is terrified by the implications.”
My heart kicked against my ribs. I'd planned to ease into this. To be subtle. But the look on her face made something in me snap. "You know what caused it." Not a question.
Dr. Reeves's hands stilled on Thaniel's chest. Her eyes met mine, and I saw the war happening behind them. Professional obligation battled against something else. Something that looked a lot like remorse.
"I don't know what you—"
"Please don't." Nana's voice sliced through the air, sharp enough to draw blood.
I watched the doctor's face drain of color as my grandmother stepped forward, power crackling in the space between them. My grandmother was not a sweet old lady who baked cookies and told stories. She was a woman who stared down gods and lived to tell the tale.
"I've seen that look before," Nana continued, each word dropping like a stone into still water. "On the faces of people who tried to lie to me. Past tense. You recognize the residue pattern, don't you, sweetheart?"
The endearment dripped with venom.
"Here's how this works." Nana examined her nails, casual disinterest that made my stomach clench.
"You talk. Now. And maybe—maybe—you walk out of here with all your pieces still attached.
Because I promise you, whatever you think is scary enough to keep your mouth shut?
" She smiled, and it was all teeth. "It's got nothing on what happens when you piss off Hades by threatening his grandchildren.
Ask around. Oh, wait—you can't. Because the last person who tried this shit with us isn't around to ask anymore.
She's enjoying time in the Underworld's finest cell. "
Through our bond, Tarja sent me a pulse of encouragement. “Push her. She wants to talk.”
"What do you know?" I asked. "How many children came in here before something happened to them?"
Dr. Reeves reached for the examination table, steadying herself. "I can't—" She stopped. Started again. "Patient confidentiality—"
"I'm not asking you to breach patient confidentiality," I said, letting venom leak into my tone.
"There are families all over the country whose children have been targeted.
All of them had contact with one of the medical facilities in your network within a month before the attacks.
I bet when we go back, we'll find more."
"All of them," Nana added, leaning forward, "had the same experiences. The same night terrors. Thessmark attacked them all."
Dr. Reeves looked like she might be sick. "I had no idea."
"But you suspected." I refused to let her escape culpability. "You've suspected something was going on for a while, haven't you?" Her silence was answer enough.
"How long?" My voice cracked. "How long have you known?"
"I don't know anything." Dr. Reeves spoke quickly. "I've had... concerns. I've seen patterns that didn't make sense. But I don't have proof, I don't have—"
"When did you first notice something?" Nana's voice was steel wrapped in velvet.
Dr. Reeves glanced toward where I'd seen the security cameras. Then down at her tablet. She seemed to make a decision.
"Six months ago, I noticed an uptick in comprehensive magical assessments.
" Her voice was barely above a whisper. "The nursing staff was doing more detailed evaluations than routine checkups require.
When I looked into it, the order came through the collective's administration.
They said it was part of a longitudinal study on paranormal children's development. "
Ice slid down my spine. "They were doing a study without telling parents?"
"It was approved by the board. I found legitimate paperwork.
But..." She hesitated. "The data collection seemed excessive.
Full magical signatures. Detailed family histories.
Information about siblings, extended family members.
Questions about the children's parentage, their potential power levels. "
Through my bond, Tarja's fury blazed. I felt it echo in my chest, hot and sharp. This was everything the Thessmark needed to select the right victims.