Darklight 2: Darkthirst Page 10

  Grayson was sitting at the table.

  I homed in on every detail. He tilted his chin as I entered the room, jaw flexing with tight discomfort. He appeared healthy, with no obvious signs of physical wounds. Thank goodness. His tone on the comm had worried me. I took the seat across from him. The guard shut the door. The sound of the latch catching made my stomach twist with foreboding.

  A two-way mirror was mounted in the wall behind Grayson. Who was behind it? It could be anyone.

  “Grayson,” I acknowledged. Never thought I’d be on the other side of an interrogation table facing an old teammate. Beads of sweat pricked his forehead.

  “Hey.” His voice didn’t shake, but he frowned.

  I repressed the urge to mirror the expression, not wanting to let him know I was equally worried. His eyes darted around the blank room, avoiding looking at my face and the mirror.

  “How are you?”

  He swallowed hard. “I’m fine, Lyra.”

  Watching his throat bob like a fishing lure on the water didn’t scream fine to me. Maybe he felt bad about our last encounter? I didn’t blame him for doing his job, but he might feel awkward that he hadn’t done a thing to help me when the Bureau attacked.

  “How’s the rest of the team?” I asked. There had to be a reason they were missing. Why drag sweaty Grayson in here but none of his comrades? I wanted to see them for myself.

  “They’ll be here soon,” he promised, but his face twitched as he spoke. “They’re fine.”

  I nodded, staying as composed as I could. I pushed past the unsettled feeling that rose in response to his slightly stilted speech. There were answers I had come for about the Bureau’s actions, and I was determined to get them. Still, the hidden comm in my ear and Dorian outside with the redbills provided a note of comfort against my worry.

  “It surprised me to hear what you said on the comm,” I said, hoping a bit of honesty might help open him up. “That new evidence had convinced you the Bureau was right about vampires.”

  “Yes,” he answered softly. “After hearing it, I can tell you we’re all on the side of the Bureau. Roxy. Colin. Louise too.” His shoulders sagged an inch when he said Louise’s name. Had he felt betrayed by Louise’s actions in the Canyonlands?

  “Understood,” I said with a slow nod. “If it was enough to convince all of you, then I’d like to hear it in full detail.” Doubt gnawed at me, but I had to give Grayson a chance. My bias couldn’t blind me in favor of the vampires… but it would take a lot to convince me.

  Grayson swallowed hard. Sweat collected on his upper lip. The blood in my veins turned colder with dread every second. But I would stay. I needed answers.

  “There was that project during the trial when the vampires helped the Bureau with a criminal investigation. Dorian and Kane picked several criminals out of a lineup,” he said.

  I nodded slowly, curious as to what he was getting at. “I remember.”

  He sucked in a breath, as if afraid to tell me. “Those criminals have since been exonerated. They weren’t guilty.”

  I stilled. My heart screamed that it wasn’t true. I pressed down the chaotic doubt bubbling inside me. “The Bureau exonerated all of them?”

  “Yes. Unknown to the vampires, it was another test. The people in the lineup were chosen for their charity work and reputation for kindness. The Bureau has substantial evidence that the vampires have been manipulating the situation to their benefit. Manipulating people to do their bidding and advocate for them. They frame innocent people so they can feed without consequence,” he explained in a measured tone.

  Now that my instinctual shock had passed, I paid more attention to how he was talking than to what he was saying. Something in his wording felt rehearsed.

  Keep going. Let’s get answers. I wasn’t sure what I was looking for exactly, so I would just have to keep him talking and see what I could stir up. Why would the vampires go to such lengths when they could sneak around and feed in secret?

  “I saw the vampires work up close,” I informed him, unsure whether he knew what occurred during that mission. “I watched Dorian and Kane take down those corrupt police officers preying on the Amish community. More than that, there was the situation in Las Vegas before we left.”

  He blinked twice but looked unmoved.

  “They’ve shown you guilty victims,” he said. “That doesn’t mean they aren’t taking down innocents too.”

  Whatever had happened to Grayson, my gut instinct was positive that they had fed him a lie. It was too convenient. The Bureau might be well-intentioned, but they had to be misinformed. I wanted hard evidence for all our sakes. If we didn’t have the truth, what did we have?

  “I’d like to see what they showed you,” I pressed. “Is a report available? Background checks, supporting documents?” People didn’t always have altruistic reasons for volunteering, after all.

  A firm knock sounded on the door. It had a particular rhythm, one that seemed familiar. The door opened, and my stomach dropped in fearful anticipation.

  “Lyra,” Uncle Alan said with a soft smile. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  Chapter Ten

  Uncle Alan might be glad to see me, but his presence evoked the opposite emotion in me. A tight rope woven of worry, anger, and disgust knotted around me. The last time I had been in the same building as my uncle, he had been firmly pushing his plans for genocide. As he closed the door behind him and moved around the table, his polished, brown leather shoes clicking on the concrete floor, I could see he appeared to be well-rested. His navy blue suit was freshly pressed, his pale yellow tie slightly loosened at this throat, and his graying blond hair was combed back neatly. It must be nice sleeping comfortably in a bed, apparently with no conscience.

  “Director Sloane,” I said, forcing the words from my mouth. How funny. I had loved when Uncle Alan visited our family in what free moments he had from official business. His presence always seemed to fill the room with a warm, comforting glow. Now the warmth felt sickening, like hot fingers pressing down on my throat.

  Please, let him be good. Let him explain this, so it makes sense. Even after everything I’d been through, everything I’d seen, I couldn’t help but hope. Please be my Uncle Alan again.

  He took a seat beside Grayson with a casual air, as if we had just been discussing the hot weather in Phoenix. His cane rested between them, the polished silver handle sharply contrasting the sleek black fiberglass.

  Uncle Alan folded his hands carefully and placed them on the table in front of him. He gave no hint of apprehension or stress. “Lyra, I’m sorry for the misunderstandings we’ve had,” he said, his face earnest. “Things have been rough.”

  “For who, exactly?” I asked. Uncle Alan looked well enough in his clean clothes.

  My uncle raised an eyebrow at my snark, and Grayson leaned away from him with the smallest movement.

  Odd. But my uncle was an influential figure in the Bureau. It was possible that Grayson was just nervous to sit beside him during such a tough discussion.

  “The rest of the Bureau outside of Phoenix HQ still believes the vampires kidnapped your group,” he said, a leading note in his voice.

  Still. As in, he could tell them something different at any moment. He wanted me to jump on it. Fine, I’d play along.

  “Why didn’t you tell them the truth?” I asked pointedly. I came here prepared to ask questions. I wanted him to know I wasn’t going to back down. “Why not send a dozen teams after us?”

  “My offer to put things right stands,” he said. “Things could go a lot easier. You could have your career back. Your family back. Your life back.” He leaned forward, his face soft and welcoming. “All you need to do is agree, and there is a hot shower, a warm meal, and a soft bed waiting for you upstairs.”

  I caught my reflection in the two-way mirror—a young woman with dirty hair brown hair, greasy bangs, tattered clothes, and dark circles beneath her eyes. It was more than physical exhaustion. My mind
was tired.

  The idea of warm food, of getting my career back, of being with my parents sent a momentary rush of temptation through me. It would be so easy. Uncle Alan was in front of me, in the flesh, offering to make things right. He was my uncle, my family, and someone I had admired my whole life. So why did my gut say there was something else going on? I pushed down the temptation. It couldn’t be this simple.

  “Why couldn’t we do this conversation over comms?” I asked. “Why drag me all the way in here?”

  Alan’s reassuring tone didn’t match the actions that had led me here. He must’ve seen that I wasn’t swayed by his offer because his expression shifted to concern.

  “I couldn’t communicate with you on the comm because I knew this conversation would be sensitive. I was afraid Dorian’s manipulation might sway you if you were still in his vicinity. But I knew you would listen to me in person.” He sat back and spread his hands as if in surrender. “I don’t blame you for being taken in during all this. Older and far more experienced soldiers have been duped by vampires,” he said gently. “Even me.”

  I sat in tense silence. My entire life, I had been told vampires were cunning and manipulative, creatures of darkness and violence to be feared and distrusted. But after spending time with them, none of their actions had made me suspect manipulation. Aside from my personal involvement with Dorian, they had only ever been truthful and willing to work with us. The suggestion that vampires could easily manipulate me was an insult. Manipulated by Dorian? Only if you counted mounting romantic tension as manipulation, and I was the initiator in about half those encounters.

  “I need solid evidence for the story you gave Grayson. And what if we can’t come to a reasonable compromise?” I asked, crossing my arms. “I want to know how I can expect the Bureau to respond.”

  “We can discuss evidence shortly. As far as failing to find a compromise, you would be free to go,” he said with a shrug. “I wouldn’t be happy about it, but you could quit the Bureau and start a new life. As could the rest of your team, wherever they may be.”

  Grayson’s hollow gaze suddenly rose from the ground. He shot me a strange but pointed look.

  He’s lying.

  “I’m not trying to pressure you,” Uncle Alan added.

  No. How could he be lying? I tried to keep my body and face relaxed, even as I fought to keep the dread from consuming my focus. He’s lying to me. If Uncle Alan was dark… no. That would mean he could be on the same level as the first murderer I saw Dorian target. My limbs felt heavy with worry. I wanted Uncle Alan to throw evidence in my face. Why wasn’t he offering anything immediately? If what Grayson had said was true, if the vampires had been lying about the guilt of people they fed on, then why wasn’t there any record of it to show me? It would be so simple for my uncle to clear it up, yet he hadn’t.

  Unless there was no evidence, and it was all lies. He might be dark. Impossibly and terribly dark. My blood turned to ice thinking of the disgust I’d felt when I watched Dorian’s first attack on the killer from the motel.

  Fangs flashed through my mind. I resisted a shiver of alarm. If Uncle Alan was dark, then I knew how the vampires would deal with him. Before, Dorian’s feeding had bothered me, but his targets weren’t personal to me. Have I been underestimating the sacrifice of a vampire’s feeding?

  The central mission of the Bureau was to protect human life. Did that include my uncle if he was lying to me—and to the Bureau—about everything? Even if he was, did he deserve to die? While I trusted the vampires’ inherent sense for seeking out truly bad people, it was a very final outcome. No trial, no due process, no chance at redemption. I couldn’t help but think of what Sabal had said, as uncomfortable as she made me, about when people had voluntarily been cleansed and survived the feeding. If people could be changed and reformed from their darkness or would surrender to the vampires of their own free will, maybe there was a chance Uncle Alan could correct himself.

  I repressed a cold shiver of unease as the reality of the situation sank in. It was a lot of maybes and hypotheticals, none of which were helpful to me right here and now.

  “First, I’d like to tell you my side of the story,” Uncle Alan said, breaking through my inner film reel of blood and fangs.

  Grayson dropped his gaze again. Uncle Alan hadn’t seen the look he’d given me.

  “Sure, but do you mind if I stand? Travel has been rough on me,” I said, hoping my voice was even.

  Uncle Alan shrugged, so I slowly rose from the table. I purposefully stretched my legs and walked to the corner on my side that was closer to Grayson. This way, I could covertly watch his face by appearing to look at them both from farther away.

  “Where to begin?” Uncle Alan wondered aloud, steepling his fingers.

  I didn’t like how light his voice sounded. It was typical of powerful board members to keep their calm, but it unsettled me.

  “You know the Bureau has dealt with vampires since our inception, but in more recent years we have received further intelligence that made us realize our basic understanding of them may have been wrong.”

  I leaned against the wall, listening. Grayson continued to stare downward.

  “The vampires claim the humans caused the interdimensional tear into the Immortal Plane. We initially believed this to be the case. That it was our mistake. After all this time, however, I’m afraid we’ve learned the story isn’t true. The vampires were the ones who opened the portal. They led our soldiers to it so they could kill as many of us as possible.”

  I stiffened, shocked at his bold accusation. The vampires causing the tear themselves and leading the Bureau to it? The tear had ripped apart the vampire community and destroyed their home. I had seen the rubble with my own eyes, witnessed the sorrow and anger present in every vampire I had come into contact with, touched Dorian’s small bag of meager belongings that were all he had left of his life in the Immortal Plane. He would never do that to himself, and neither would his clan. I saw the faces of refugees when I looked at the vampires.

  Uncle Alan continued. “We believe they can close it. They are choosing not to in order to have their demands to brazenly kill humans with our support freely met.”

  They would choose to lose family members? Dorian lost his brother. Possibly his parents, too.

  “I find that hard to believe,” I admitted. I could not take much more of his rhetoric. “It seems illogical that the vampires would purposefully rip a tear between the dimensions when they lived comfortably in the Immortal Plane.”

  “Did they live comfortably? I wonder,” he said and rubbed his chin as if in thought. “You’ve known vampires for a short time, but I’ve fought them for decades.” He nudged the cane beside him. “They obviously need something from our plane that they don’t have in their own.”

  I didn’t believe time automatically meant knowledge. A soldier could spend years on a quest with bad intel and still be wrong. I met my uncle’s gaze but said nothing.

  Uncle Alan searched my face. “Do you know how I got this wound, Lyra? The full story?”

  I shook my head with a sinking feeling. For all my belief in the vampires, the cane Uncle Alan carried was an uncomfortable reminder of the damage they could cause.

  “I know it was from a vampire, but you’ve never told me the full story,” I said. “I don’t think you’ve ever told any of us, actually. Not even Dad.”

  He settled back in the rickety metal chair. His intense eyes, the same shade of hazel as my own, fixed on me. “I was young, a few years older than you are now. Back then, I was more fresh-faced and trusting.” Uncle Alan gave a bitter smile of reminiscence. “I was working on a mission, stationed in North Carolina with my team to address some mysterious murders occurring in a small town. We had captured a vampire and were holding her for questioning. Naturally, I was curious. I’d never seen a vampire up close for so long. We took turns interrogating her, but my captain soon realized I seemed to get along with her the best.”

&n
bsp; Despite my doubts, he had my rapt attention. He rubbed his leg as if it pained him. In all my years of knowing my uncle, I had never seen him as weak. Even with his injury, he exuded confidence and strength. Had I been ignorant?

  “I was confident in my ability to judge character. Why wouldn’t I be? I was a soldier of the Occult Bureau and a damn good one. She gradually began to open up to me. It took weeks, but it was…thrilling. A vampire willing to talk without the need for torture was promising, not only for that case but in our war against the vampires in general. Imagine what she might tell us over time. What we could learn to turn the tide.” He paused, caught up in the memory.

  “One day, she presented me with an offer. If I let her go, she would lead me to other vampires. She assured me there were several hiding nearby, one of whom was responsible for the most recent murders.” There was a sudden twitch of a snarl on his face before he continued. “Well, she led me to a hideout all right, but it was a setup. I led my group of soldiers into a trap. Willis and Jeffords… they were my closest friends among my team. And I had to watch as vampires tore out their throats and bathed in their blood. My other teammates weren’t far behind.” He closed his eyes. “They took Johnson and Wright as they ran in to help Willis and Jeffords. Ripped them apart. Castle was pulled up into the rafters, and they never found his body. One of them ripped the flesh from my leg so badly that I will need this cane for the rest of my life. Davis was pounced on as she covered me during the retreat. It was the vampire who had led us there. Not an hour beforehand, the two of them had been talking about their favorite flowers because Davis was planning out her garden for that year.” The breath he took had a tremor to it. “I had to tell Jeffords’s wife that he wouldn’t be coming home. I had to look Castle’s daughter in the face as we buried an empty coffin. My team’s cries of pain are often the first thing I think of when I wake up in the morning. Every time I feel an ache in this body, I remember those screams. Those soldiers died because they trusted me and my plan. I only escaped because they sacrificed their lives.”