Part Twenty

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"This will go easier if you talk with me, Ms. Harris," Vasilyev told her. "You had a panic attack when faced with mounting your wyvern. That's not supportive of our goals at Wyvernhall. We'd like our pilots to remain healthy and productive. And I think we can make inroads on both today. I'd like you to tell me why you reacted so strongly to Payaa's presence in your mind. What did you see there that angered you?"

"I'd like to see you try waking up with a stranger in your head. Isn't comfortable." Especially when your mind's a mental Chernobyl, and someone wants to come in and pet the feral dogs. She could think honestly—Payaa was off hunting, out of range for sharing any but the most extreme emotions.

"So the results of your transfer surprised you?" His eyes flickered over her, not with the clinical detachment of the other scientists, but with hunger. Katrina wasn't sure what for, but she didn't want to find out.

"Pretty surprising." She hedged her answer. "No one was sure what would really happen."

"Why did you go along?" Still hungry. Questioning, now. Interrogating her. Did he suspect? Stay vague and irreverent. "You must have known the risks."

Nothing's as risky as standing on that bluff with that gun in my hand. "Let's just say Dr. Harper made me an offer I couldn't refuse."

"Were you forced into it?" He sounded concerned now. Fuck that. No one forced Katrina Harris to do anything. No one got to be concerned about her but her. She grudgingly accepted that some discreet counseling might be in order, considering how she'd wound up here. But they'd be staying square in her comfort zone

"Nope."

The concerned look remained on his face as he turned up the white noise machine and flipped off the tape recorder he was using to document the session. His eyes ran all over the walls. Finally, he gulped and spoke.

"Did Indigo send you?"

"Indigo?" She sat straight up, suddenly realizing how large Vasilyev was. He'd be a threat even if he turned out not to be a Descendant. "What are you talking about?"

"I saw you when they arrested me. At their headquarters in Queens. You came by to see your brother, Shawn Harris, the one they call the Living Flame. I recognized you when Harper brought you in, and I thought you'd defected. But—please, say they sent you to relieve me. I can't keep living with this fear in my mind. Please!"

He stopped, desperate hope flashing in his eyes. Shit. What should she say? Whatever makes him spill the most information. He could be a desperate informant. Or this could all be a test. Who better than a trusted therapist to root out traitors?

"I take it you don't like my brother?" she said, cautiously.

"If you'll excuse me, miss, he's a hard man to like. My son got spotted in a public shift. We're polar bears, him and I. He only did so to scare off a mugger." His thick Russian accent filled his voice. "Indigo killed the mugger before he could go to the media, and they knew we were the only family of bears in the area, so they came for us. I said it was me who did it."

Katrina stifled a frown. Protecting lawbreakers who shifted in public only enabled them to risk the Seal again. But at least he'd had the honesty to register his family when he'd moved into the area. Most Descendants ignored Indigo's registration law. Bears. If only the kid had possessed the balls needed to go for the kill. Shapeshifters' magic greatly enhanced their physical skills. A bear would have the strength to crush a person like a can.

"I thought—well, you know what they do to lawbreakers, but I was second generation and fluent in the language, so Indigo sent me to work for and spy on the Father of Witches." He lowered his voice while invoking the title. "He sent me here." He reached down around his neck to pull out a brightly painted saint's medallion. Popping it open, he revealed a small flash drive. "I've been using this to communicate with Agent Harris."

"My brother knows this place exists?"

"For the last few months, yes. I told him about your arrival the second I saw your name on the medical records. He hasn't responded."

"Okay." He'd be coming for her, then. Anaïs would have tried her best to talk him out of it, but Shawn loved saving people—especially her. She couldn't have him ruin her moment, let him take credit for smuggling out information on the enemy weapons. And she sure as hell couldn't let him loose in a place so isolated that preserving the Seal wouldn't be his first priority.

"Did Dr. Harper force you to come here? Or did you come to take my place?" His eyes shone with pathetic hope. Katrina spared a second of irritation at the thought that Indigo had sent an unwilling person on this mission when there was someone perfectly willing to volunteer. But he might be lying. She could report him to Dr. Harper and cement her position in the doctor's trust. But if Vasilyev was telling the truth, she would cost him his life. If her own quest to escape failed, Indigo would need his eyes on the ground.

Taking a middle road would be best. She could always change her mind. "May I?" He handed her the flash drive. She palmed it and slid it into her pocket. "You work for me now, doctor."

"What?"

"You heard me. I defected, idiot. You're going to get me a handle of vodka by sundown or I'll go to Dr. Harper." Not that she planned to drink it, at least not all at once, but it was a good thing to keep for emergencies. Besides, it was the typical move you'd expect from a recovering alkie in a stressful situation. She doubted Dr. Harper would find the blackmail suspicious at all, and she'd neatly covered her own ass while finding a way to potentially contact her brother.

The whites of Vasilyev's eyes drowned in a sea of brown, indicating an angry polar bear was only seconds away.

"We're still under the Seal here," Katrina pointed out, throwing open the door so other scientists could see in. "Leave the goods outside my suite."


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