31. The First Suspect Falls
Chapter thirty-one
The First Suspect Falls
Julian
“ E nter,” Cyrus called Monday morning before I even had a chance to knock.
I stepped into his office—conveniently located next door to Nicolette’s.
I’d just seen her safely to hers. “Safely” being a relative term.
Her declaration that it must be someone close to me who’d killed her mother and now taunted her ate at me like a persistent itch I couldn’t scratch.
Her logic wasn’t wrong. But I’d seen the look in Cyrus’s eyes when I’d accused him at the cemetery.
That flash of betrayal—cold, sharp, genuine.
I couldn’t believe it was him. Nor did I wish to.
It was all so bloody frustrating. I wanted nothing more than to keep Nicolette safe, but I didn’t know how. Was it someone close to me?
Cyrus didn’t look up from the holographic display hovering above his desk—a rotating model of a protein structure, magnified and color-coded. He manipulated it with a flick of his fingers, isolating a strand of mutated nucleotides.
“Your timing is abysmal,” he said wryly. “I’m in the middle of something.”
“Good morning to you as well,” I replied, shutting the door behind me.
“I suppose this isn’t a social call.” He continued to stare at the model.
I took a seat in front of his desk and watched the holographic display in awe.
Medicine and science had never been my forte.
Business and the arts were of more interest to me.
But Cyrus had always preferred to do something that helped humankind.
That alone gave me hope—hope that I could still believe in him.
“How was your date with Daphne?” I figured it was best to start with something light.
Cyrus scoffed. “Don’t tell me you don’t already know. No doubt Daphne spoke to Nicolette.”
I grinned. “And did she speak the truth? Did you enjoy yourself? Her?”
Cyrus looked up from the model, his brow creasing in a way that suggested genuine conflict rather than irritation. “Unfortunately, yes.”
“Unfortunately?” I questioned. “How do you figure?”
“You should know better than anyone. It complicates matters. Humans don’t belong in our world. It’s dangerous. And I was careless on Saturday night. I let my guard down because of a lyrical laugh and a warm, beautiful body.”
I could commiserate with him. But I didn’t regret being with Nicolette. Only the danger she was in.
“You know she wishes to see you again.”
Cyrus scrubbed a hand over his jaw, gaze flicking away for the briefest moment. “I know. I should have never told her that I’d call her. It was a serious breach of judgment.”
“She will be hurt,” I reminded him.
“Better now than before it’s too late.” His tone carried a quiet reprimand, as if he were reminding me of my own choices—marrying Nicolette chief among them.
“But let’s get to the reason you are really here.
” He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms, posture cool and unyielding.
“I seem to remember you believing that I’d betrayed you. ”
He was daring me to repeat it.
I had no choice.
“Where were you the night Grace Hart died?”
“First you accuse me of tormenting your wife. And now you think I have something to do with Grace Hart’s death? Is this a joke?”
“If only,” I sighed. “Delia gave us some disturbing information Saturday night, and I’m not leaving any stone unturned with Nicolette’s life on the line.” I would make no apologies for that. I was past that point.
“And what information is that?” Cyrus hissed.
I’d warned Nicolette I would have to tell Cyrus about Delia. He’d been at the graveyard; he already knew what she was. It was pointless to keep it from him.
“Please don’t tell me you are fooled by Delia,” he said sharply. “We already know she’s a liar. What I’d like to know is how the hell she hid what she truly was.”
I told Cyrus the story Delia had related and everything she’d revealed about Grace Hart’s cure.
He leaned forward, gripping the edge of his desk, stunned as I relayed the tale—right down to Grace Hart being killed by one of our kind.
“And you think it’s me? I killed Grace Hart?” He practically laughed.
“No. Damn it.” In my heart, I couldn’t believe it. I knew Cyrus’s character. But I also knew Nicolette was right. It was someone close to me. “But I need to know who did it. Where were you that night?”
“If you must know, I was on your errand.” His tone sharpened, as if the memory itself irritated him.
“You wanted close allies for this asinine idea you had to take over Hart Labs—an idea I supported, though I found it reckless and it risked exposing who we were. I’d been speaking to Simone about helping, and she decided to fly in.
One thing led to another, as it sometimes does with her, and we ended up spending an intimate night together. ”
He said it without flourish, without shame—just a blunt fact.
“I didn’t mention it because I didn’t think it was pertinent,” he continued.
“And I’m not particularly proud of my weakness where she’s concerned.
Nor did I think I needed to report who I sleep with to you.
But if you would like to ask her for my alibi, I’m sure she’ll oblige you.
Perhaps give you a play-by-play if that’s what you need to believe me. ”
I held up my hand, hoping he wouldn’t go any further. “That won’t be necessary. But I didn’t know you still held a flame for her.”
“I don’t,” he spat. “Which is another reason I didn’t mention it. It wasn’t my finest moment. Do you need more of an explanation?”
I thought for a moment, fearing I just wanted to believe him and was letting him off too easily. But it wasn’t that. “No.” I felt secure—comforted, even—by his explanation. I hoped it would offer Nicolette some peace of mind as well. “Is it awkward working with her?”
“Not at all. We decided it was best to keep things professional. And I believe she is, or was in, a serious relationship.”
“Yes, she mentioned something to Nicolette. I believe they broke up.”
Cyrus shrugged, a small, dismissive lift of his shoulders. “I’m not interested in Simone’s love life.”
“Fair enough.”
He exhaled through his nose, then fixed me with a level stare. “So, are we going to move past this, brother? I’m not yours or Nicolette’s enemy here, whatever she may think.”
“Do you blame her?”
“No,” Cyrus conceded. “And given what you’ve told me about Delia and Grace, I imagine she is wary of everyone now.
But what would I have to gain from harming her or her mother?
I would never hurt you in such a manner.
And I’ve been searching for a cure as long as you have.
” He paused. “Bloody hell, did Grace Hart truly discover a cure? How?”
I’d sworn to Nicolette I would tell no one about her blood or her mother’s laptop. I stood and paced. “Obviously, it’s a cure that doesn’t last. And there are severe ramifications, given that the plasma treatment is no longer effective for Delia.”
“That is troubling. We need to run tests. Does Nicolette have any of her mother’s research? Her mother never mentioned anything to her? And what about this rogue vampire? We know nothing about him. Do you think Delia is telling the truth? For all we know, she’s the killer,” Cyrus surmised.
“Believe me, I’ve thought that too. But I’m inclined to believe she didn’t kill Grace. Grace was her salvation, and it’s clear she hates being a vampire. She’s desperate for Nicolette’s help.”
“Does Nicolette have any theories?” Cyrus asked, though I was sure he had some of his own. He was a genius in his own right.
I knew I had to be careful. Keep it vague. The fewer people who knew about Nicolette’s blood, the better.
I stopped and recalled what Nicolette had said.
Sometimes she spoke so fast, even I had a hard time digesting her words.
“She mentioned a mutated receptor or enzyme. Possibly an adaptive mutation. Something about a disrupted pH balance. Even an immune-like response—that Delia’s blood might now recognize the plasma treatment as foreign and break it down before it can work. ”
“Those are all plausible explanations,” Cyrus agreed.
“We need to get a sample of Delia’s blood and run a full metabolic panel.
And we’ll need a second sample after she takes the plasma therapy.
If the plasma is being degraded or blocked or is unable to bind, it will show up there.
I pray this doesn’t mean the treatment will start failing for humans or for those of our kind currently relying on the therapy. ”
I hated to even think about those consequences.
“We need to keep this quiet. I don’t want anyone else to know about Delia.
Or the failed cure. For all we know, Grace Hart died because of it.
I don’t want that target painted on Nicolette’s back.
Whoever this bastard is, he’s already coming after Nicolette for her mother’s secrets. Who knows how many she kept.”
“I will do my best to protect your wife. I still think you are mad to marry a human.” The corners of his lips twitched.
“But she seemed truly shocked by what Delia was on Saturday. And after spending time with Daphne,” he murmured, voice softening in a way I rarely heard from him, “I remembered—if only briefly—what it was like to have human thoughts and feelings. It made me realize the change in you. I hope you and Nicolette will work things out.”
“Me as well.” Nicolette had given me hope. She’d even allowed me to share the couch with her last night and hold her. The stubborn woman still refused to come to bed with me. But my main priority now was keeping her safe.
“I know we each have our misgivings about each other, but I would like to assist Nicolette in her research,” Cyrus offered.
“Delia could be the key to us finding an actual cure. Perhaps we can do a bit of reverse bioengineering.” There was a spark in his voice—one I hadn’t heard since he’d first realized what the plasma therapy could do for us.
Since he’d first let himself truly believe that a cure was possible.
“Perhaps.” But I feared it was my wife who was the key to the cure. And I knew she wouldn’t be satisfied until she had the truth. All of it. No matter the danger involved. “I’ll let Nicolette know about your offer. Don’t be surprised if that’s a hard sell.”
Cyrus nodded. “If there is an issue with the plasma therapy, that is something we both need to address—and quickly. And I would like the chance for us to get to know each other. To prove my loyalty to you. To her,” he added, almost as an afterthought.
But I appreciated the gesture all the same.
“From now on, brother, we treat everyone in our circle as a suspect.”
“Everyone?” he asked, brow lifting.
“Every last person,” I reiterated.
He pushed back from his desk, determination settling over his features. “I am with you, brother. We will find whoever killed Grace Hart and is now tormenting your wife. And we will kill them.”
Now I just hoped my wife wouldn’t kill me for believing my brother.
But as far as I was concerned, I’d just crossed one suspect off the list.