Page 52 of Their Shared Mate
Shoving her hands into the pockets of her coat, Claire turned to the guards and smiled warmly. “I need to speak with Gabriel, but I don’t know where he lives.”
The guards looked at each other, then the taller one smirked. “If your mates wanted you to know where your friend is, they would have told you.”
“Why don’t you go to work,” the other guard suggested bitterly. “My nephew has Oratov Syndrome. He’s still waiting for a cure.”
She wasn’t surprised that he knew she’d joined Jason’s team. There were no secrets in Eagle Village. She nodded and started to turn back around, then looked at the one who’d spoken first. “How well do you know Patrick? Is my friend’s life at risk?”
He shrugged with a nonchalance that made her want to slap him. “She survived the night, so he won’t kill her. But that’s all I’ll predict.”
She nodded again then hurried off along the main path. Claire was out of ideas. If the guards wouldn’t help her find Patrick’s cabin, then she needed to work on Raphael. He was the only one with influence over Gabriel. And Gabriel was responsible for Patrick. She wasn’t happy with the conclusion, but wandering around the village and peering into windows was a foolish waste of time.
Jason greeted her with a cautious smile as she entered the lab a few minutes later. “I heard the wolves tried to kidnap you last night. I’m so glad they didn’t succeed.”
“So am I.” She hung up her coat and moved to her station before she continued. “But I’d sure as hell like to know who told them where to find me. Out of all the cabins in this village, they came straight to mine.”
“They weren’t lashing out at you,” Jason predicted. “They were retaliating against the raptor that attacked their stronghold.”
“I thought about that, but how did they know Raphael was courting anyone? The attack still stinks of a spy.”
“There are spies in every village,” Jason said with a shrug. “At least our leaders figured out how the wolves got past the guards.”
Claire gave in with a nod and Jason changed the subject.
Grateful for the distraction of work, she focused on her research for the next few hours. She used experiments and simulations to occupy her mind. Oratov Syndrome was a genetic mystery, and she loved unraveling mysteries.
“Jason.” She motioned him over toward her station. “I’m not sure this is significant, but I keep seeing this variant in the PSEN2 gene. The entire chromosome looks odd to me, but?—”
“It’s part of Hyptos tribe’s intentional mutation. There are transcribed sections before and after.”
He sounded dismissive, but the involvement of the original transformation seemed to support her hypothesis. “And is the variant only found in Hyptos tribe.”
“Yes.” He turned to her, offering his full attention. “Explain what you’re thinking.”
“This gene is often involved with early onset cases of Alzheimer’s. The symptoms of Oratov Syndrome have a physical component as well, but the mental deterioration you’ve described is strikingly similar.”
“You think OS is caused by two separate variants, one causing the mental deterioration and one causing the loss of motor function.”
“Yes. What percentage of OS is found within the Hyptos tribe?”
“Eighty-seven,” Phil, one of the other scientists provided.
Claire looked around and found that everyone was listening to her conversation with Jason.
“We keep coming back to C9orf72,” Phil told her as he stood and moved closer to where she was sitting. “But that doesn’t explain the mental confusion.”
Jason stroked his chin as he shifted his gaze from one to the other. “Why don’t you two work together for the rest of the afternoon. Compare notes and brainstorm connections.”
Always willing to collaborate, Claire explained her hypothesis in more detail and listened carefully as Phil explained what he had been thinking. They ran several simulations, but Heather was there in the back of Claire’s mind.
Lunchtime came and went, and Claire’s anxiety built. She needed to find Heather and get her away from Patrick. Once the men returned from the tunnels she’d be unable to help. On impulse, she casually said, “Gabriel invited us for dinner tonight, but they forgot to tell me where he lives.”
“Three rows up, six cabins in. Gabriel’s will be on your right,” Phil answered without looking up from his microscope.
Her heart fluttered in her chest. There was no guarantee that Heather was there, but at least Claire had a destination. She tried to refocus on work, but Heather’s image would not leave her mind. It was now or never. The window of opportunity was growing smaller by the second.
She rubbed her temples and moaned loud enough to draw Phil’s attention.
“Are you all right?” he asked, his concern obvious.
