Page 42 of The Hunted
All I could do was nod.
“The Mason blood does have some strong effects,” Webb said. “I know firsthand. Your sister’s blood gives me a high like no other. My system can handle it. I suspect since she’s human, her system can’t. It’s almost like an overdose of a drug, which is one of the reasons we deal with people like Roman who sell blood like ours.”
My father loosened his tie even more as he tried to hold in his rage. “What about her sister?”
“I haven’t removed the spell yet,” I said. “We should wait until Layla is awake.” If Rianne woke up before Layla, I imagined the feisty Aberdeen would go apeshit when she saw her sister in a hospital bed.
“You’re right.” My dad pinned each of us with a stern look. “I need to get to Boston. I’ve set up a meeting with the Council of Elders. We need to have our ducks in a row in the event the Aberdeens agree to meet. Do you know where the third sister is?”
We all shook our heads.
Webb rose. “Steven, go. We’ll locate the other sister. Ben should have some intel on the hacker. Maybe by then Layla will be awake, and we can get the answers we need.”
“Son, walk me out.” My father marched to the door.
Tripp’s voice entered my head.Good luck.
I was tempted to flip him off but refrained. The fact that my father wasn’t yelling or throwing me in the brig was shocking. I wanted to keep it that way.
I downed the rest of the blood and tossed the bottle in the trash when Webb’s desk phone chirped.
Webb answered on speaker. “What is it?”
“Ben trailed the hacker to an apartment in the city. Do you want him to engage?” Sawyer asked.
“Have Ben hold tight and keep an eye on him. We’ll be right down.” Webb clicked off.
I regarded my father. “Can we chat when you get back? This is important.” Getting my ass chewed wasn’t.
“I’ll check in later.” Then my dad was gone.
I slumped my shoulders, relieved that I’d averted my father’s wrath.
16
SAM
An hour later, the bell on the glass door dinged as Tripp and I walked into a coffee shop in the downtown area of the city. The aroma of coffee mixed with sugary pastries wafted through the air.
Except for Ben and the blond barista behind the glass-top pastry case, the place was empty. With the falling snow making some roads impassable, people were hibernating. That was better for us, since there would be fewer witnesses in case things went awry with the human.
Ben sat at a table by the window, his body too big for the small chair he was in.
“Coffee, gentlemen?” the barista asked, beaming at us as though she was grateful for customers.
“No, thank you. Not staying.” I stood alongside Tripp at the edge of the table.
We didn’t have time to kick back. I wanted to nail that fucker as quickly as we could. Layla might be waking up soon.
Tripp glanced out at the brick building across the street. “Any movement?”
Ben dragged fingers through his reddish-brown hair. “No. He went in about an hour ago. What’s the plan?”
“Sam and I will pay him a visit. I want you positioned at the front entrance. Olivia is already stationed at the back exit, and Kraft will pull the van into the alley once I give him the signal. Any questions?”
Ben kept his voice low. “Are you sure this dude is former CIA?”
Ben had sent us a picture of the hacker, and the moment Tripp, Webb, and I saw it, we thought our eyes were deceiving us—but we had no doubt our hacker was none other than Agent Wyman. He’d played a role in helping our dead former enemy, Edmund Rain. The million-dollar questions were: did Wyman remember anything from five years ago? And if he did, what did he remember?
