Page 51 of White Raven (Nevermore Duet #2)

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Rhaena said, rolling her eyes. “I sent him a text asking if he’d come over to talk and got pissed when that phone didn’t go off…I woke up this morning and realized it never even went through.”

“Well, that’s good right? That means he wasn’t ignoring you.”

“I have no idea what to say. I feel like—”

Someone started knocking on the door, and Rhaena’s already pale face went three shades of green. Wren answered it for her, finding Brandon on the other side.

“Oh…Wren, I’m—wait…” He looked over at Wren’s door, and then up at the apartment number on Rhaena’s.

“You’ve got the right one, Jenkins. Come on in,” she grinned. He slid in past her, catching Rhaena’s expression from the doorway.

“Babe? What’s wrong, are you okay?” That face he wore at Rhaena’s cabin when she’d turned into a beast that couldn’t recognize him was the one he was wearing now.

Desperate to figure out what he could do to take it away, and help her, regardless of whatever they were arguing about.

Rhaena broke into tears immediately. “Rhaena…” He rushed to her chair, kneeling down and taking one of her hands.

“If this is about me, I’m sorry. My point isn’t even worth it if it’s gonna make you—”

“Stop…it’s not that. We do need to talk, though.”

Wren dumped her coffee into the sink and grabbed her bag. “I’m gonna let you two…you know…” This was awkward enough without her being here to add to the bullshit.

“Thanks for everything, Wren. I owe you one,” Rhaena sniffled, watching her as she paused at the door.

“No, you don’t. Phone’s on. Here if you need me, alright?”

They exchanged nods, and Wren left, burning through three cigarettes on the car ride to Nell’s little shop. She found the old woman leaning over her worktable with a ridiculous-looking eyeglass attached to her glasses.

“You’re late, grasshopper.” Wren smirked, sitting a paper cup down next to her latest new piece she was working on. Nell sniffed at it, raising the eyeglass to her forehead. “Is that Earl Gray?”

“With two packs of honey, and a sugar in the raw,” Wren winked, sitting her stuff down in the corner of the room. “The coffee shop I used to live above is the best in Boston.”

“Grab a pair of gloves out of the box by that table and pull that chair. I’m gonna show you how to mix these bottles. I think you’re gonna like the set I got my hands on the other day,” she smiled.

He felt like the only person in this entire precinct that ever paid attention to the coffee in this break room…

if the supply was getting short. Foley wrote down numbers for everything he needed to order today to get it here by the end of the week and raised his voice out of the break room door to get the attention of the entire room.

“Hey! If y’all wanna drink this faster than I can supply it, then every one of you can start bringing your own coffee!

” He bellowed, shaking the paper in his hand.

Several guilty faces peered over at him, a couple of them mid-swallow as they hid their cups.

“Think I’m playing.” One of the uniforms approached him warily.

“Sir?” she bit her lip.

“Officer Aines,” he acknowledged, lowering the paper.

“Do you have any idea when Detective Northwood will be back?”

“I don’t. She’s supposed to already be here…why?”

Aines shifted on her feet. “There’s someone on the phone for her. He’s called several times, and he said it’s urgent, and he’s calling from out of the country. He hasn’t been able to get her on her cell phone.”

“Put him through to my office,” Foley nodded, headed towards his door.

He hadn’t heard from Rhaena and hadn’t really thought about the fact that she was unusually late this morning, which was not like her.

Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t remembered seeing Detective Jenkins, either.

The desk phone started ringing, and he eased into his chair, picking up the call. “This is Captain Foley.”

“Captain? This is Nick Specter with EverLife Research?”

It took all of two seconds for his stomach to drop. “Mr. Specter. How are you? My officer tells me you’re out of the country?”

“I’m on vacation with my family. We spent Christmas abroad. Actually, if I could keep this short, my wife is pretty adamant about keeping my promise of not working while we’re here, but I had to give Detective Northwood my findings…they’re—very interesting.”

“I’m familiar with the case the detective was working on, give me just a moment to pull up my documents,” Foley said, trying to hide any shake to his voice. His limbs tingled with adrenaline, and his face broke into a cold sweat. “Go ahead, Mr. Specter.”

“Well, let me start by saying that if someone had asked me a year or two ago what I made of all this…I’d tell them these were fake and utterly ridiculous…but knowing what I know now…”

His heart pumped an extra shot of unease through him, and he tried to remind himself that his secret was safe. But Lindsay’s…they were about to be exposed. “This is a secure line, doctor. Anything you deliver will be confidential.”

Specter sighed on the other end. “The research Detective Northwood sent predates my position at EverLife. The man responsible for the green light on these experiments has since passed away, and after doing a little digging, it seems most of his research was sealed by the government.”

“But you were still able to get something?”

“Yes, and it was enough to make the hairs on my neck stand up.” He cleared his throat.

“The signed parties were testing various blood samples on…animals. Now, that might seem pretty straight-and-narrow, but these animals are—an undocumented species. As is the blood they used to experiment…or would have been undocumented had I not taken part in certain events these past months.”

“I’m not sure I understand, Mr. Specter.”

He sighed again—heavily. “Okay, Captain. How much do you know about Detective Kane’s last case?”

“I know everything.”

“Good. Then to put it bluntly, Dahlia Van Hausen was supplying vampire blood to someone in your precinct named Lindsay Trainor to test its effects on—what I believe to be werewolves.”

“I don’t understand…what reason would they have to test it on werewolves?”

“I’m not the detective, but from what I’m gathering from these lab reports, and the files sent to me by Detective Northwood…it’s my belief that they were trying to create some kind of hybrid species.”

He wasn’t sure what a heart attack felt like, but the way his chest was audibly pounding, and the roaring in his ears, it had to be something close to this. “They did this at the blood center?”

“No, these experiments were documented as being held off-site, and only on willing participants.” There was clicking and typing on the other end, and then he continued.

“There’s a short list of redacted names, but the parentheses in the spreadsheet link to another spreadsheet for each subject showing individual payments made for their participation.

What’s more…it looks like these experiments only half-failed. ”

“What do you mean by that?”

“The notes state that each one that ingested the blood given, were still changing form, and were unable to control their transitions. Most weren’t able to consume a regular diet either, and resorted to feeding like vampires.”

He thought he’d be sick. “And none of the names of these participants are available?”

“Sadly, no. When Conrad Stratford was pressing me for sealed documents, I wasn’t able to get them no matter how hard I tried.

I almost paid for that with my life, Captain.

I won’t do that again. If you would please tell Detective Northwood that I’ve done what she’s asked, and I’d rather stay out of whatever this leads you to? ”

“I understand, Mr. Specter. Thank you for everything.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll encrypt these files and send them to you for review. Share them with her if you wouldn’t mind.”

“You have my word. Thank you again.”

“Yes, sir.”

They hung up, and Foley’s throat felt dry.

Face was numb with apprehension. All the years he’d thought he knew her…

for Lindsay to take part in anything like that just to get ahead—he felt like he never knew her at all.

And to think that Rhaena’s uncle may have been after her…

not because he couldn’t help it…but because she had a hand in making him into a monster?

Could Rhaena even handle the possibility that her uncle had put himself in front of that truck to end his torment?

Or to keep himself from having to take responsibility for Lindsay’s murder?

This would crush her. The desk phone blared again, startling him, and bringing him out of the trance he’d found himself in from the shock of what he’d just learned.

He wiped his sweaty palm over his slacks, and then picked up the call.

“Captain Foley,” he answered.

“Captain…what in the hell are you up to, now? If I have to fly back to shit-ass Boston, you’re gonna put me up in the swankiest hotel in the city. I’m in the middle of a huge case, and I don’t have time for amateurs.”

“Agent Foster?”

“Yes. And don’t try to pretend you’re happy to hear my voice. I’m definitely not happy to have to hear yours,” she bit.

“What makes you think I’m up to something?” he asked, scratching his head.

“Captain, I’m really not in the mood. Detective Kane has tried digging too deep, and his activity was flagged with my department. What’s he after?”

“Kane is on leave,” he answered honestly.

“Well, I suggest you give him a call. You know just as good as I do what happens when you open a can of worms. I don’t have time to go chasing them all when they crawl off to God knows where. And why are they booking flights to Seattle?”

“That’s their personal business. I suggest you take that up with St. James.”

“What relation do either of them have with Ryan Sykes?” she asked. His eyebrows nearly jumped off his face.

“What do you know about Ryan Sykes?”