Chapter Three #2

me look like a fool. For fuck’s sake, I taught Reece how to tie his shoes.”

Grayson took another long sip of the latte, then bit into bacon, cheddar and egg. “Corruption lets the empaths access paranormal

insight into others. Ms. Falcon was a veterans’ therapist for years. She’s drawing experience from her patients.”

“Yeah, and in fairness, Cora is terrifying,” St. James said. “But Reece can’t even navigate our bank’s website. How is he

suddenly a criminal mastermind?”

The breakfast sandwich was already half gone. Grayson popped the rest of it into his mouth. “Probably because your little

brother is gonna be accessing insight into you. And respectfully, ma’am, you’re pretty terrifying too.”

“Flatterer.” St. James let out a long sigh, running her hands over her face. “I’ve chased a lot of bad guys over the years.

I never thought Reece would be one of them.” She looked up, her exhaustion suddenly apparent in the slump of her shoulders,

the red tinge to her warm brown eyes. “I guess you’re probably one of the only people on the planet who understands.”

Grayson made a grunt of assent. “At least I know how it was done to Alex, even if I haven’t found everyone responsible.” He picked up a mini-quiche. “But I’ve gone over that night in Vancouver so many times. I still don’t know what caused corruption to fully steal Reece.”

She eyed him for a long moment, then nodded at his pile of breakfast items. “Hungry?”

“Not like there’s time for regular meals when we’re on a case like this.”

“That’s true, but we do have food at our house, at least,” she said. “I keep telling you that you’re welcome to stay with

me and Liam.”

She did, and it was kind of her. Grayson had been pulling his rental Prius into the first random motel with a vacancy every

night since he got back to Seattle. A couple of times, he’d slept in the Prius itself. “I guess I hadn’t expected catching

the empaths to take long,” he admitted.

Your arrogance is your biggest weakness, Reece had said.

Grayson drained the rest of the latte and set the empty cup on the table. Reece’s priorities were questionable these days,

but his empathy was more accurate than ever. Someone else might’ve said something like that to get under Grayson’s skin, but

Reece knew that wasn’t possible. He’d simply been speaking truth, and Grayson would be a fool to ignore that little tidbit

about himself.

Because yeah, he might’ve been arrogant. After all, he and St. James shared their mutual advantage over almost any adversary:

They’d been altered by their empath siblings to be stronger and faster than any normal human could ever be. But almost any adversary didn’t include their little brothers: Reece and Alex knew these strengths inside out and would always be ready to counter

them.

Might be time to accept he wasn’t going to catch the empaths easy and find a place to stay for more than a few hours’ Wi-Fi

or sleep.

St. James reached for her bagel. “There is another place you could stay if you wanted to be downtown and not out in the sticks like me.” When Grayson tilted his head, she said, “Liam still has a key to the studio apartment he sublet to Reece.”

Grayson’s eyebrows went up. “Reece’s studio?”

“Why not?” she said. “I mean, what are the chances he’d be brave enough to show his face?”

“Oh, I’d welcome Reece showing up,” Grayson said. “He could come right on over and straight into my—” arms “—handcuffs,” he quickly finished. “Handcuffs. They’re right here. Waiting. Anyway, wouldn’t it be awful rude of me to use

his place without permission?”

“I think we have bigger problems than manners right now,” she said dryly.

Before he could answer, his watch vibrated. He glanced at it. “I think Ms. Marist finally got back to me.”

Grayson pulled his phone back out of his pocket. The background was still set to a picture of Reece, beaming at the camera

in a bear hat with Grayson fast asleep on the king bed behind him. Their night in Vancouver together, when Reece had been

happy and Grayson had been—not happy, obviously, but comfortable. Safe. Having his last decent night’s sleep.

He ignored the picture, pressing the email icon situated between Reece’s bear ears. Marist’s email was at the top of his inbox.

Subject: re: re: Break-in

The extent of the property damage is still being assessed. Security footage has been deleted. Head of security is the only

person aware empaths were on premises; he saw three empaths going into the empty delivery room and has positively identified

Reece Davies.

Grayson still didn’t understand why had Reece left Smith un-thralled to reveal his presence and actions. Was it part of some twisted game?

He relayed what he’d read to St. James, then scanned the rest of the email. “Security guards were told there was a materials

leak in Research and Development, a volatile steroid that was accidentally distributed through the vents,” he said as he handed

the phone to St. James so she could read it too. “It’s being blamed for security’s sudden rage.”

St. James’s eyes were on the email now. “And they’re offering the guards a financial incentive in exchange for a litigation

waiver and an NDA. Buying them all off so they keep the company’s secrets. Gross.” She frowned at the screen and read out

loud. “‘There’s also the question of where we’re going to keep three corrupted empaths now that your brother has destroyed

Polaris. But Stone Solutions will, of course, handle that.’ The hell they will.”

“Not like we can build a facility ourselves,” Grayson pointed out. St. James knew it as well as he did: It wasn’t easy to

find safe places for empaths, not when you knew the truth about their abilities. You needed somewhere the corrupted empaths

couldn’t break out, but also somewhere that the unscrupulous couldn’t get in.

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