Chapter Five
Wednesday dawned clear and cold. In the sanctuary of Bryn’s bedroom, Bryn and Gunnar lay snug beneath the comforter.
They’d shared a bed three nights running, nights of skin-to-skin contact and coziness but nothing more.
Bryn couldn’t contemplate the idea of going back to separate rooms because that would be surrendering something precious he’d waited too long for.
Gunnar, ever disciplined, got up early to run. He slipped from beneath the covers with practiced stealth, but Bryn wasn’t truly asleep. Through half-lidded eyes, he watched Gunnar move about the room, admiring his impressive physique as he dressed in the dim light.
“You’re not as sneaky as you think,” Bryn mumbled.
Gunnar paused, halfway through pulling on a thermal running top. “I was trying to let you sleep.”
“And miss the show? Not a chance.” Bryn propped himself up on one elbow. “Though I’d rather you were getting back into bed than leaving it.”
Gunnar chuckled. “Five miles now means I can justify pancakes later. With you.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Bryn’s forehead. “Stay warm.”
After the soft click of the door, Bryn rolled into Gunnar’s warm spot, breathing in his lingering scent. He hugged Gunnar’s pillow, a poor substitute for the real thing, but comforting nonetheless then dozed, waiting for Gunnar’s return.
Forty-five minutes later, he heard it…the heavy tread of running shoes in the hallway, the rush of the shower starting up. Only then did he drag himself out of bed to answer the siren call of coffee.
Breakfast was quiet. Gunnar, flushed from his run and shower, hummed while he cooked pancakes and prepped fruit. Bryn enjoyed the lack of noise and unnecessary chat. Gunnar seemed to understand his need for head space before what was going to be a stressful, Giles-infested day.
“Are you worried about the investor event?” Gunnar asked, sliding a plate of blueberry pancakes across to Bryn.
Bryn nodded, pouring a sizeable puddle of maple syrup. “A lot could go wrong.”
“You’ve prepped and I know you. You might tease Giles that you’re useless at this, but I know better.”
“Maybe, but if I’m being observant, won’t they be too? What if someone spots that I’m reading them?”
“You’ve been in tough spots. We have an extraction plan and much as I’d like to strangle Giles with one of his own fancy silk cravats, don’t forget what you told me about him. His sanguine qualities are strong. He won’t let anything happen to you—you’re too valuable to him.”
“As a fucking experiment.”
“Yeah, but a rare one.”
“I guess it’s one time when being a freak might be a benefit rather than a disadvantage.”
Gunnar refilled Bryn’s coffee mug. “Drink this. You’re gonna need it and if you call yourself that again, I will spank your bare ass until you cry.”
“Might not be the worst thing in the world…oops, did I say that out loud?”
Gunnar shook his head. “Fuck’s sake. Get yourself downstairs before Giles comes calling.”
The dress rehearsal for the investor’s meeting took place in Warden’s office and felt like the world’s most twisted job interview. Giles played potential investors while Bryn navigated complex questions about market strategy and return on investment.
“Better,” Giles admitted. “Though your disdain still shows when you call me ‘sir.’”
“The maybe I should call you Giles.”
“No. Mr. Delacourt will suffice, though.”
“Why no false name for you?”
“Because my name is in my company records and they will likely have done due diligence on their guests. I’m not difficult to find, nor is my picture.
My involvement in development of the blood scanners is also public knowledge.
Any trace of you was wiped from the virtual world when you were identified as an augur and the tech team here has protocols in place to ensure you never reappear. ”
“Fair enough.” Never wanted a career as an Instagram influencer anyway.
“Warden is sending someone to collect your new clothes and I’ve arranged for a stylist to come in to do something about that mop of yours.
She should be here shortly. This afternoon you’ll take one of the capsules so you know what the side effects feel like then tonight, you and I will check into a downtown hotel appropriate for a visiting investor. ”
They walked back to the conference room where Gunnar had been dealing with members of the GCR’s security team, setting up surveillance points for the following day and at the hotel that night.
“Where are we staying?” Bryn asked.
“The Four Seasons. I had Emmett book the presidential suite. Anything less would be suspicious for someone of my caliber,” Giles replied. “It’s in Back Bay, with views over the Public Garden. The kind of place where they change your sheets if you so much as wrinkle them.”
Before Bryn could comment, a petite woman with electric blue hair burst into the room, dragging a rolling case behind her.
“Darling Giles! I am here! The security guard who let me in was very handsome, no?”
“Hello, Marie, my angel. We’ll make space for you to set up at the end of the table. Do you need your customer to get his head wet?”
I’d quite like to hold your head down in a bucket of cold water, Giles. For about ten minutes. Bryn gave the lady a fake smile.
“No, no. Not necessary. Is this him?” She approached Bryn. “I’m Marie, and I’m here to save your hair from the tragedy that has befallen it. Mon dieu, who’s been cutting this? A gardener with a lawnmower?”
“I do it myself,” Bryn admitted.
Marie clutched at her chest. “You wound me!” She opened her case then spread a plastic sheet on the floor before positioning a chair on it. She then whipped out a black cape with flourish. “Sit. We have much work to do.”
For the next hour, Marie fussed and clucked and occasionally gasped in horror as she transformed Bryn’s hair with liberal use of a water spray bottle, scissors and brushes. Gunnar, who had finished his security planning, watched with barely concealed amusement.
“No, no, no!” Marie exclaimed, making everyone jump.
“You cannot keep running your fingers through it. You are to be an executive assistant, yes? Executive assistants do not fidget! They glide! They float! They certainly do not mess up my precision cutting by treating their hair so!” Marie spun him around to face the small mirror she’d placed on the conference table.
She’d somehow managed to make Bryn look both professional and stylish.
“Now, product! You must use product! This is not optional!”
She proceeded to demonstrate proper hair product application with the intensity of someone defusing a bomb, while Gunnar shook with suppressed laughter in the corner.
“I don’t see what’s so funny,” Bryn muttered.
“You look like you’re expecting that gel to explode,” Gunnar managed between chuckles.
Emmett glanced up from his laptop. “Given your track record, that’s not entirely outside the realm of possibility.”
Warden, who had been observing from the doorway, cleared his throat. “Marie has worked a small miracle.”
“Hey!” Bryn protested. “I looked fine.”
Warden took the diplomatic path and didn’t respond.
“Thank you for your services, Marie. I believe we’re finished here,” Giles said.
Marie packed up her supplies, but not before fixing Bryn with a stern look. “If I see you again and this is ruined, we will have words. Many words. Most of them French. And you”—she gestured at Gunnar—“I would very much like to get my hands on your…hair. Giles has my number.”
After she left, Bryn turned to the others. “Is it too late to shoot our way in instead?”
“Yes,” came the unanimous response.
“I hate all of you.”
“You look great,” Emmett said. “The style suits you.”
Bryn couldn’t be mad with Emmett. He huffed. “Fine. Shall we get the next bit over with? Though I’m not sure what’s worse, the haircut or taking the capsule.” It was worrying that Giles didn’t respond.
“We should do this in the bathroom,” Giles said, opening the case containing the capsules. They glowed lilac under the lights. “Trust me, you’ll want to be near the facilities.”
“And you’re sure this won’t kill me?”
“Not even close,” Giles replied. “Though you might wish it would for about twenty minutes.”
Gunnar moved closer to Bryn. “I’ll stay with you.”
Bryn took the drug from Giles. “So I just…swallow it?”
“Obviously. And then we wait. It should only take five minutes to begin working.”
Bryn took a deep breath then swallowed the capsule before he could think too hard about it. It went down easily, tasteless and smooth. “Now what?”
“Now we wait,” Giles said, checking his watch. “And when it starts…try to remember that it will end.”
The first five minutes were anticlimactic. Bryn and Gunnar retreated to Bryn’s ensuite bathroom in their apartment where Bryn sat on the closed toilet lid, while Gunnar leaned against the wall beside him.
Then Bryn felt it, a slight warmth in his stomach that quickly turned into a burning sensation. “Oh,” he said, “that’s…unpleasant.”
The burning spread, racing through his veins like liquid fire. His hands began to shake, and sweat broke out across his forehead. “Okay, that’s not nice.”
“Beginning of phase one.” Giles stuck his head around the door. “Initial systemic response.”
“Fuck your phases, and fuck you, Giles,” Bryn gasped as the burning intensified. It felt like his blood was trying to claw its way out of his body. His vision blurred, the bathroom light too harsh. Gunnar squeezed his shoulder.
“Oh fuck,” Bryn managed through clenched teeth. The pain was getting worse, radiating from his core to his extremities. His fingers and toes tingled like they were being stabbed with thousands of tiny needles. “Oh fuck, the bee venom thing makes sense now.”
He doubled over, fighting the urge to be sick.
Gunnar moved his hand to the back of Bryn’s neck, cool against his burning skin.
The touch helped, giving him something to focus on besides the inferno raging through his body.
The contact didn’t instigate a read because Bryn’s focus was very much elsewhere.
“Phase two,” Giles announced, his voice seeming to come from very far away. “Peak reaction.”
Bryn wanted to tell Giles exactly where he could stick his phases, but he couldn’t form words anymore. The pain had become all-consuming. He slid off the toilet seat and Gunnar caught him. He lowered him to the cool tile floor.
“Is this normal?” Gunnar’s voice was tight.
“Completely,” Giles assured him. “Though his reaction seems more intense than average. Probably due to his augur physiology.”
“You might have mentioned that possibility beforehand,” Gunnar said.
“Would it have changed anything?”
Bryn pressed his face against the tile floor, desperate for any relief. Time lost all meaning—it could have been minutes or hours that he lay there, trembling and sweating, while his blood burned and his muscles spasmed.
Then, gradually, the pain faded to manageable discomfort. His vision cleared, the light no longer feeling like daggers in his eyes.
“Phase three,” Giles said. “Resolution.”
“If you don’t stop with the phases,” Bryn croaked, “I’m going to throw up on your fucking Italian shoes.”
“He’s feeling better,” Giles observed. “Return of verbal hostility indicates recovery.”
Gunnar helped Bryn sit up. The room spun for a moment before settling. “That,” Bryn said, “wasn’t a fun time.”
“But educational,” Giles added. “Now you know what to expect tomorrow.”
“Yeah, now I can look forward to it with informed dread instead of ignorant dread. Much better.” Bryn accepted the glass of water Gunnar offered, taking small sips. “Please tell me it won’t be worse the second time.”
“It won’t be worse,” Giles said. “But it won’t be better, either. The body doesn’t build up tolerance to this particular process.”
“Fantastic.” He let Gunnar help him to his feet. “And I have to do this, then immediately go act normal?”
“Do you ever act normal? You’ll have about thirty minutes between taking it and our arrival to recover.”
“At least Marie isn’t here to see what this did to her masterpiece.” Bryn peered into the mirror. His hair was a disaster, plastered to his head with sweat.
“You should rest,” Giles said. “Take a shower. We’ll head to the hotel in an hour. You’ll want to be fully recovered before we check in.”
Bryn nodded, too drained to argue. “Next time you create a back door in a security system, maybe consider one that doesn’t feel like dying?”
“I’ll add it to my list of design improvements,” Giles replied. “Right after ‘make it impossible to detect’ and ‘don’t get caught in the first place’.”