Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
By the time we reorganize the room and set up laptops and a printer and hook in to the secure backup server, we’re all starving, so I order takeout for us and we eat while discussing theories.
“Let’s assume this is all connected,” David says thoughtfully.
“Anything else would just be too coincidental. We’ve made greater headway in this case than our opponents expected us to in this short time.
In order to distract us, they’ve sacrificed their source on the inside.
We’re now scrambling to defend our systems and are unable to use the office until we’re certain it’s secure. ”
“We’re definitely on the back foot,” Lily agrees. “But do they know about Sam? Because if he’s one of their early experiments—sorry, Sam—we’re still ahead of their game.”
I wave to indicate that I’m not offended. “Did any of you log anything we’ve done since last night in the system?”
Heads are shaken all around. “The request for a medic to do a DNA profile went through the usual process, but your name wasn’t attached to it,” Percy says. “They might think we’re doing some kind of genetic investigation that connects to the case, but that would be all.”
“But Dr. Sims would have had to log the samples,” Andrew points out. “Fuck. We need to—”
“No.” Percy shakes his head. “I asked Dr. Sims to log them under an anonymous numeric code. Sam is, as far as we know, the only one of his kind not in enemy custody. We need to protect his identity until we can be certain he’s safe, and that means only the people who were in my office this morning can know. ”
“That’s good,” Gideon calls from where he’s arranging mugs in the kitchen, because he’s done the pantry twice already today and he needs to stay within earshot. “That means the only way they can know about Sam is if there was a device in one of the rooms we were in.”
We all exchange glances, because that’s highly possible.
“What rooms?” Elinor asks. “Percy’s office, of course.
Uh, the antechamber? We talked a bit about what was happening while we were waiting there.
Not in detail, but enough for someone who knew about the genetic experiments to put it together. ”
“The break room,” David adds. “Our office?”
I shake my head. “Not unless one of you said something today. Last night, we were only talking about me learning to use magic while we were in the office. It wasn’t until we were in the break room that we realized that wasn’t going to happen.”
David sighs. “We’re overlooking something important. The device might be something one of us is carrying around.”
There’s a crash as Gideon drops a mug. My stomach churns as I look around and see the same dawning horror on everyone’s faces.
Phones. Watches. Jewelry. Fabric can’t hold a sorcery weave for more than a few hours, but leather can, so shoes and belts are a possibility.
Pens—Andrew has a beautiful platinum pen that lives in his pocket and goes with him everywhere.
Tablets. Laptops? Fuck, did we leave the office because it wasn’t secure, only to bring the leak with us?
“Calm down,” Percy says. “Our equipment was screened before we left the office, remember?”
“What about personal belongings?” Gideon growls, coming to hover protectively near my chair. I immediately feel safer.
“I’ll check them now,” he replies, because that’s right, Percy can use the magic to see hidden sorcery. Thank holy fuck that he’s on our team. “Empty your pockets and bags, please.”
There’s a scramble to obey. It’s creepy as fuck to think that someone might be watching or listening to us. Worse still is the thought that they might be planning to kidnap me and perform experiments.
“I’m completely a shifter now,” I declare loudly. “No human DNA left.”
Everyone looks at me weirdly.
“What? I just want it clearly understood that since the results of the experiment are gone, there would be no benefit to any kind of invasive testing or vivisection or anal probing.”
Andrew coughs. “Really? No benefit to anal probing?”
My face goes hot, which means it’s probably traffic-light-red, but I pretend I have no idea what he’s talking about and very carefully don’t look at Gideon, who just snorted a laugh, the bastard.
“Well, anyway,” Lily says, trying to keep the peace, “it’s perfectly clear that there would be no benefit to vivisection or… anything else.”
“There’s always a benefit to ‘anything else,’” Aidan murmurs wickedly, and part of my brain wants to smack him, but the rest cringes away from the idea of smacking my species leader.
Some things were easier when I was human.
Percy, who’s been methodically examining the items presented to him, says, “It looks like we’re clear. Sam, did you bring anything home with you today?”
“Uh…” I look around. “My phone.” I point to it. “And I’ll get my shoes for you to check. I didn’t have anything in my pockets.” I look at Gideon. “Did you and Alistair grab anything else of mine?”
He shakes his head. “No, we basically just brought you. We didn’t even bother with your keys—they should still be on your desk.”
“I packed them in with Sam’s stuff,” Elinor volunteers, “but that was all scanned when we left the building.”
“The phone is clear,” Percy tells us.
I race off to find my shoes, and a few minutes later we’re all sinking into our seats with relief.
“So we’re secure right now,” Lily says. “But we have to assume that we weren’t while we were at the office.”
Everyone looks at me. I think I might throw up.
“Sam is never alone,” Percy orders, and there’s a thread of steel to his voice that I’m not used to hearing. “Doors and windows are always locked.”
“That’s not going to protect him against shifters,” David points out, rubbing his forehead. “I can set up a security barrier of some kind—something that will react to anyone entering who has bad intentions. It’s a complicated weave, though, and will take time.”
“How much time?”
He makes a face. “A couple of days. Less if I could get someone to help, but…” He shrugs helplessly.
“But we don’t know exactly who we can trust right now,” Elinor finishes.
Panic rises. “What do you mean? Like, we can’t trust anyone ?” That can’t be right. The people we work with have all been through stringent background checks. They’re dedicated to protecting and serving the community.
“Sam.” Gideon’s hand squeezes my shoulder and he crouches beside me.
“All we know right now is that there’s a leak somewhere in the office.
Someone hacked the system, and someone presumably planted a device or devices.
Percy can use the magic to check each and every person’s loyalty and intentions, but it’s time-consuming and exhausting for him.
Right now, we know we can trust the people in this room and the head of security and his team, who are right now sweeping the office for devices. ”
“And Alistair?” I clutch desperately at that emotional straw.
Gideon hesitates, but Percy says, “Alistair is fine. I don’t even need to use the magic to check him—his concern and protectiveness for you are so strong that I can sense them.”
I sag with relief.
“Uh, Sam,” Gideon says, “have you heard from Alistair since he left?”
“No, I—” The panic is back as I scramble forward to grab my phone. “There’s no message from him.”
“Wait, what?” Elinor asks. “What’s going on with Alistair?”
“Send one,” Gideon orders me. “Use whatever that code was, just in case.” While I’m carefully composing a text about fishing and groceries, trying to stay calm long enough to remember the code, Gideon runs down what happened for the others.
I send the message and then stare at the screen, praying for him to text me back. “Should I call?” I ask.
“No,” half a dozen voices chorus.
“It’s easier to trip up during a conversation,” Andrew adds.
“Plus, tone of voice can be a big giveaway. Let’s see how he responds first, and then we can decide if you need to call.
” He gets up and goes to get the box holding my new phone, which I moved to the kitchen counter when we were rearranging the furniture.
“Let’s get this set up while we’re waiting,” he says. “David, can we rig a panic button feature?”
“Yes.” David goes to join him. I keep staring at my phone. Gideon perches on the arm of my chair, watching over my shoulder, and I lean against him, taking comfort from his solid warmth.
On the screen, three dots begin to dance.
“He’s typing!”
Elinor crowds in on my other side, and the three of us watch my phone as the room falls silent.
Can’t bring your groceries tonight. Fishing a bust. Jim used wrong bait.
“Fuck!”
“What does that mean?” Elinor asks, mystified. “Even if you hadn’t told me, I’d know he’s not talking about actual fishing. Alistair hates to fish.”
“It means he and Jim are in trouble. The grocery part means they’re being followed. I think.”
“You think?” Aidan asks incredulously. “What good’s using a code if you don’t remember it?”
“It’s not an official code,” I defend, “and none of us was sober when we came up with it. We’ve mostly used it as a joke since.”
“Wait.” David comes back from the kitchen. “Alistair thinks he’s being followed? Why would they do that if it’s our case that they’re interested in?”
“Maybe it’s not,” Gideon says, but he sounds unsure.
“It can’t be Sam, can it?” Lily asks. “Following Alistair to get to Sam, I mean. Even if they know they’re friends, these people had access to our system. Sam’s address is in there.”
I wince.
“Your address isn’t in there?” she guesses. “How did you manage that?”
“It’s an old habit,” I mumble, “from when I was running and hiding. The address I used is for the local post office.”
“A post office box?”
“No, just the street address of the post office.”
Percy shakes his head. “That’s probably got tax implications,” he mutters, then adds, “never mind. So it’s possible they’re following Alistair to track you down, then, which means they know something about you. We just don’t know what.”