Page 55 of The Union
I opened my coat and revealed my stomach. “You wouldn’t want to hurt me anyway. Sam would murder you before you had a chance to touch me.”
Her brown eyes widened. “I sensed that there was something different about you.”
“I’m eight weeks along,” I said.
“You look further along than that.”
“Possibly twins,” I returned.
Her claws retracted. “I guess you’re right. I can’t rip you to pieces.” Her tone was eerily serious.
An awkward silence stretched between us until Lane strutted in.
“Ladies, I need to run. So step on it, please.” He breezed past us and pushed the button to the elevator.
Vera slung her duffel bag over her shoulder. “Do you know for sure if you’re having twins?”
I skirted the reception desk. “Not unless my dreams come true.”
“Always pay attention to your dreams,” Vera said. “They hold the key to the future. At least that’s what my ancestors believed.”
“Do you?” I asked her.
She nodded. “If I can remember mine, I write them down.”
I made a mental note to do just that.
21
LAYLA
It was four thirty in the morning, and the last three hours had been nail-biting.
I paced between the two black marble benches that traveled the length of the state-of-the-art medical facility, or as Dr. Vieira liked to refer to the place—his home away from home.
My heart rammed against my ribs. My nails were down to the nubs. Sweat coated my body, and my stomach was in a ball of knots. Essentially, waiting for Sawyer and Cooper to figure out how to do something with the chip in Sam’s head was a mixture of hope and hell that felt as if a school of piranhas was eating at my insides.
I prayed they knew what they were doing. Then again, they couldn’t touch Sam without Dr. Vieira’s approval. With the chip on the brain stem, anything was risky. Still, we had to try. We couldn’t keep Sam in a coma for the rest of his life.
Our best bet was to find the scientist Peter Landon. But again, we couldn’t wait forever. Hell, Peter could be dead, considering he had a contract out on his head.
Nevertheless, Cooper Gray, a mastermind in his own right on coding, had an idea to download the chip’s program and recode it. In turn, the process would shut the damn thing down. Still, they couldn’t say for sure if that was the key to bringing Sam out of his coma. Anything sounded good in theory, but in practice, maybe not.
The double doors squeaked open before Steven marched in dressed in casual attire—jeans, a navy SEAL T-shirt, and flak boots. The Sam look-alike had a disarming nature to him when he grinned at me.
I swayed to a stop. I’d made myself dizzy, trampling back and forth like a crazy woman. “Did Webb and Jo find Peter?”Please say yes.
Steven ponied up to the bench opposite Cooper and Sawyer. “Not yet.” He tipped his chin at Sawyer. “Lieutenant Tripp filled me in on your plan. How risky is it?”
I stood next to Steven, worrying my bottom lip.
Cooper extended his hand to Steven. “I’m Cooper Gray.” The man was bulky, like Ross, with a muscled chest and thick thighs, but where Ross was bald, Cooper had a crop of brown hair. Both had blue eyes.
After a quick handshake, Steven crossed his arms over his chest. “Take me through your thought process—pros and cons.”
Cooper plucked a thin, palm-sized gadget out of his computer bag. “According to the data Sawyer downloaded on this technology, the chip has Bluetooth capabilities. If I can connect this hard drive to the chip, I can reprogram it so the fucker will either shut down or reboot. If it does reboot, the small jolt might be enough to move it off his brain stem, if that is the reason Sam can’t wake up. That’s the good news.” Cooper took a breath. “The bad news… it could malfunction and overheat, potentially frying his brain stem. I don’t know how fast your kind heals, but it could be catastrophic.” He scratched a spot behind his ear. “Look, I’m reaching here. But… I can’t stand around. The longer my brother can’t shift, the more chance he has of his wolf overtaking him. And I can’t try my theory on Dane, since I don’t know where the chip is in him.”
I swished saliva around in my mouth to coat the dryness. None of what Cooper explained sounded good. Even if he successfully reprogrammed the stupid thing or fried Sam’s medulla and Sam healed, the chip would still be in him. In my mind, the risks were the same if we did surgery. A surgeon with steady hands could perform the procedure without killing my hunky man. Besides, I was confident Dr. Vieira would find a way to make sure Sam healed quickly if the surgeon screwed up.
