Chapter 23
River
By the time Laurie returned to the kitchen I had my orders from Jordan rattling down our psychic line. It was all hands on deck smoking out the other facilities, and I planned to get started immediately with the first lead we had.
Laurie paused at the island, the faintest flush still staining her cheeks after the crumb debacle. She watched me down my coffee in three sips. “You heading out?”
“Yep. They need me at HQ.” I drained the cup and slammed it down, then pointed a finger at her across the island. “So you can hang back here and rest for the day.”
“Excuse me.” Laurie stepped into my path as I strode toward the doorway, arms folded tight. “You said we’re partners now. That means we’re supposed to be working together. I’m coming with you.”
I looked down at her. A part of me wanted to tell her that if she was trying to look intimidating, she’d have to try another angle.
That scowl she wore did nothing when she was two heads shorter than me and looking like she wanted to stamp her foot like a toddler throwing a tantrum.
I had the overwhelming urge to ruffle her hair, but no doubt I’d lose a finger or two if I tried.
“I’m just going to be talking to some of the people we rescued.
” I kept my hands hanging at my sides and all ten of my fingers intact, trying to make my schedule sound as boring as possible in the hopes that Laurie would take a day off.
God knows she needed it, and Casa de River was as good a place as any to attempt some relaxation.
“Let me gather some intel and I’ll fill you in on everything I’ve learned when I get back. ”
Laurie, however, tilted her chin up and folded her arms tighter. “If you walk out of this door without me, I will consider this partnership over and I will be out the window and long gone before you get back.”
I sighed. Looked up. Looked down again. With her pinked cheeks and furrowed brow, piercing dark eyes daring me to try to stop her—of course I caved. I’m not one for arguing with pretty women.
“Fine.” I stepped around her and slipped into the hallway, offering my ultimatum over my shoulder. “But we’re leaving in five minutes, so you’ll have to get to brushing that bird's nest on your head if you want to be ready in time.”
I smirked at her scandalized expression and her hands rushing to pat down her hair before taking off down the hall.
Maybe letting her tag along was the safest play anyway.
Hanging out at Leyore headquarters would mean she was keeping out of trouble.
I could keep an eye on her, and she might be able to relate to the rescued captives better than I could.
After all, shared damage opens doors no amount of psychic coaxing can.
So I’d take her with me. Two birds, one stubborn stone—and our first real attempt at teamwork.
Leyore headquarters was significantly less claustrophobic than the night before.
Most of the rescued human captives had their minds wiped and were quietly returned home, with strategically planted memories of where they had been for the past few months.
Holidays, camping trips, luxury resorts—faux memories of pleasant days to replace the horror they had witnessed.
It wasn’t a perfect solution, but it allowed us to send them home while keeping the supernatural world and our coven securely under the rug. Most of the mind wiping was done by Hunter, and she’d pried what she could from their memories—which, admittedly, wasn’t much.
It was exactly what Jordan had initially wanted to do with Laurie. She knew far too much about our world for one particularly meddling human. But she also had information we didn’t. So Jordan had agreed: no memory wipe for Laurie—not yet. Not with crucial intel nesting inside her head.
And we couldn’t just force it out either. Something told me Hunter’s prying would break Laurie’s mind completely before yielding any results. Laurie would not let her enter willingly. So it was up to me to gather information. My job was equal parts guardian and chaperone until Laurie chose to talk.
“This way.” I reached for Laurie’s hand, then remembered who I was dealing with and snatched my own away. I nodded the direction instead, leading Laurie through the grand hall toward the set of stairs at the end. “There’s someone I want to talk to up there.”
Laurie followed without a word, skirting her gaze over the scene with her lips pressed into a tight line.
The human captives were all recent additions to the organization’s collection. They hadn’t endured the true terrors of the facility. It was the hybrids and the newly-turned—the ones whose blood had been tampered with—who had the answers we were looking for.
Some of them sat around the great hall, staring dazedly from their cots and benches. Others had been given special care, holed up in office rooms turned hospital ward. Witch healers drifted throughout, offering care where they could and reassurance where they couldn’t.
Laurie took it all in with slitted, solemn eyes. Beneath the gloomy haze of grief and guilt, I felt fierce fury tinting her aura. The survivor in her was feeling hopeless, seeing so many just like her. The fighter in her called for revenge.
I nudged a ribbon of calm her way and felt the storm sink back under her skin, ever-present but dormant once more.
We threaded between cots and up the stairs, heading toward a storeroom repurposed into a small bedroom. “Hybrid P-74, according to her wristband.” Jordan’s voice echoed in my head.
The vampiress herself was out in the city, meeting with Elliot and the elves to discuss the organization’s reach and what to do about it.
It wasn’t just humans they were targeting, and it wasn’t just vampires they were creating.
Whatever the organization's final goal, it would require all of our supernatural allies working together to stop them.
I paused outside the door, and spoke to Jordan in my head. “Is she dangerous? This hybrid?”
“No, just terrified. She’s… well, you’ll see.
” Jordan’s voice in my mind was grim, tinged with a sharp bitterness that told me whatever this hybrid had gone through, it had hit the redhead hard.
“She was brave enough to name a handler—someone she calls ‘the Doctor.’ Hunter wanted to dive right into the girl’s memories, but I think you’re right, ripping mental bandages too soon would do more harm than good. ”
Though Jordan couldn’t see it, I nodded. We had debated using Hunter’s abilities to pry into the minds of the hybrids, but I halted that plan for the same reason I wouldn’t let them try it on Laurie.
Whatever these people had been through had left them traumatized, and their mental walls were fully erect.
Barreling right through would only hurt them more, so I’d volunteered my own abilities instead.
If I could just talk to them, and use my powers to put them at ease, maybe they’d open up on their own.
My gaze slid to Laurie, standing stiff and somber at my side. She caught my eye and squared her shoulders, steeling herself for a difficult conversation. I pushed the door open.
The moment I caught sight of the figure on the cot I understood what had got Jordan so agitated—or more accurately, it was the moment I picked up her scent.
Part human, part vampire, probably born of a human mother, with only the barest hint of the supernatural in the point of her teeth.
Just like Hazel and Hilda, and just as young.
The hybrid straightened when she caught sight of us, wariness flickering in pupils slightly slit by nocturnal adaptation. Her aura spiked in a ray of vibrant violet, vibrating with fear. She couldn’t have been more than nine years old.
“Hi there.” I edged into the room, stooping to make myself smaller and doing my best to look non-threatening. “I’m River, and this is Laurie. We just want to make sure you’re doing okay here.”
The girl's eyes widened, and she drew her knees up to her chin where she sat.
I left Laurie hovering in the doorway and crouched at the foot of the cot, weaving ease and solace into my words. “Can you tell me your name?”
The girl’s aura rose to a treble note, tense and quivering with caution.
I should have expected that. She was a hybrid after all—she could probably sense that I was a vampire.
I was a stranger to her, a supernatural one at that.
My presence, even with my comforting powers, would not put her at ease.
But it wasn’t her aura that concerned me the most—it was Laurie’s.
I glanced back.
Laurie’s aura had darkened to the deep blue of tumultuous seas, storm clouds boiling under her skin. She stared at the girl like she was seeing a ghost. Her eyes were glassy, lips parted, shoulders drawn taunt. A memory—bad, razor-sharp—was yanking her out of the room.
“Laurie?” I kept my tone neutral so I wouldn’t spook the kid, or Laurie herself. “You with me?”
No response.
I turned back to the child, already ready to abort the interview. “Hang on a minute, sweetie. We’ll be right back—”
“Let me talk to her.”
The words came abrupt and breathless from Laurie, like the first gasp of air after holding your head underwater. I hesitated, glancing between the two of them. “Laurie, I don’t think—”
“I’m fine.” She stepped fully into the room, walking on shaky legs.
The girl kept her eyes on both of us, but she did not balk at Laurie’s approach.
Laurie paused beside me where I crouched—and then she did something I had not anticipated. She put her hand on my shoulder, light and fleeting, but the contact crackled right through me. It was the first time she had ever made contact of her own volition.
The act itself was incredibly mundane, but coming from her, it felt sacred. A solitary door left slightly ajar. An invitation to venture deeper.
Her eyes were still focused on the girl, and her next words were a quiet murmur. “I know how to handle this one.”
I wanted to protest. The storm clouds behind her eyes were whipped into a frenzy, her aura rippling outward in cresting waves.
But the certainty in her voice stilled me.
I sank back on my haunches and watched as Laurie settled on the edge of the cot, tucking her knees under her chin to match the girl's position.
“Hey,” she whispered, wrinkling her nose. “Is it just me or does this place smell worse than the laboratory?” She cut a glance back at me and my bewildered expression, then faced the girl again with a quiet chuckle. “Must be all the goddamn vampires.”
I wasn’t sure if I should be offended that she inadvertently told me I stank, appalled that she swore in front of a kid, or surprised when the little girl covered her mouth and giggled.
Before I could take my pick, Laurie spoke again. “I guess they didn’t give you a name back at the facility, huh?” When the little girl’s face fell, Laurie leaned a little closer. “Hey, it’s okay. That just means you get to pick one out for yourself. So what’ll it be?”
The girl looked pensive for a moment, staring down at her knees with a slight frown. “I had a name—my mom gave me a name. Before she went away.”
I wasn’t quite sure what either of them were going on about, but Laurie only nodded with a pained smile. “Well, what did your mom call you?”
“Mary,” the girl whispered, and two fat tears promptly rolled down her cheeks. “But she went away. And then nobody called me Mary anymore.”
“Well, Mary is a lot easier to remember than—” Laurie tilted her head to glimpse the girl's wristband and wrinkled her nose again in a theatrical grimace, “Hybrid P-74. God, they’ve really got no imagination back at that facility, huh?”
The girl fiddled with her wristband and mutely shook her head.
Laurie watched her for a beat, before she sighed and straightened out her legs, swinging them casually off the edge of the cot. “Mary it is, then. That’s how you can introduce yourself from now on. And trust me, there are plenty of nice people here waiting to meet you.”
The girl—Mary, I guess—glanced past Laurie, cautiously looking me up and down. “Is she nice?”
Laurie looked down her nose at me and raised a brow, snorting out a laugh. “Eh, she’s all right. Bit of a nutcase though.”
“Excuse me?!” I rose from my crouch, playing into the bit and pressing a hand to my chest. “I’ve been nothing but kind to you and that’s what you have to say?”
Laurie gave a haughty shrug and looked away and the little girl let out another cautious giggle. Her aura had relaxed to a dull vibration, timid but a little smoother than before. Laurie’s was still a raging thunderstorm, but she seemed to hold it contained by sheer force of will.
I watched them both, spell-bound by Laurie’s ability to put the girl at ease, even without the help of supernatural talents.
She knew exactly how to speak, how to sit, and where to send her gaze to make the girl feel as comfortable as possible.
Like she wanted to be the person she herself had needed when she was in this situation.
When Mary’s laughter petered out, and her eyes returned to her wristband—teary and far too full of melancholy for someone so young—Laurie glanced my way again. “Hey, Miss Vampire. Can you give us a moment alone?”
When she saw the hesitation in my eyes, her gaze softened, turned pleading. She wanted me to trust her to handle this.
I could give her that.
“All right.” I backed up to the doorway and pretended to look disgruntled. “Me and my vampire stink will be waiting outside.”
The look Laurie shot me was grateful, her tight smile strained at the corners but sincere. I gave her a small nod of reassurance and closed the door behind me, erecting myself in the hallway and monitoring their auras through the walls.
Out there, I waited and I listened.
And I learned more about Laurie than I’d bargained for.