She didn’t stir, not even when he used a shower head to wash her hair. It wasn’t an easy task, her body dead weight against his, but he took his time, cleaning her thoroughly and combing her hair afterward. Then he tucked her into the sheets and slid in beside her, determined not to let her go ever again.
You’re mine forever, Caro. When you’re awake, I’ll remind you of what that means. For now, sleep well.
“Clara isn’t the mole.”
Balthazar’s statement reverberated in Issac’s head as he considered what that meant. When he and Lucian said they needed to have a conversation with him and Astasiya, he hadn’t known what to expect. With everything going on, the commentary could have been regarding anything. But this proclamation hadn’t even made his list of possibilities.
What did it say about him that the female he once adored like a sister hadn’t even graced his thoughts?
That you have a lot on your mind, Aya replied softly. We all do.
“How do you know she’s not the mole?” she asked out loud.
“Sethios somehow undid the compulsion around her.” Lucian stood with his arms folded across his chest, his gray T-shirt stretching across his pronounced biceps.
He’d been channeling his grief over Aidan’s death by spending more hours working out rather than sleeping. Amelia had expressed her concern to Issac that her big brother wasn’t grieving properly. He was starting to agree with her. And not just because of the dark bags beneath Lucian’s emerald eyes.
“He said it was crudely done, and he suspected that Osiris had left it for you to dismantle as practice,” Balthazar added.
“Has Clara been able to give us any leads on who the mole might be?” Issac asked.
Both men shook their heads. “But now that we know it was all a ruse, we can use it to our advantage,” Lucian replied. “We’ve left her in the cell, albeit with much more comfortable accommodations. As far as everyone else is concerned, she’s still guilty and not to be spoken to.”
“Alik knows. But no one else.” Balthazar ran his fingers through his dark hair, fixing what the outside breeze had done to his artfully messy strands. “We’ll tell Jay when he has less on his mind.”
“So that means the person reporting to Jonathan is still roaming among us,” Aya said, frowning. “Or has the culprit tried to flee?”
“Jacque’s the only one not on the island right now, but he’s with Owen and your parents at Ezekiel’s undisclosed location.” Lucian didn’t sound pleased by that. “But everyone else is still here.”
“Who do you suspect?” Issac asked. “Originally, you insisted on testing Nadia, Clara, and Tristan.”
“We also suspected Ezekiel. Ash and Jacque were mentioned as well.” Balthazar’s tone held a lack of emotion, which was uncharacteristic of the mind reader. Perhaps he didn’t want to let his opinion show either way on the topic.
Lucian’s eyes narrowed. “We know it’s not Jacque or Ash.”
“We also knew it was Clara,” Balthazar reminded him. “And it wasn’t her.”
The two Elders shared a long look, the tension between them palpable.
Issac cleared his throat. “Right. We made a mistake. Let’s fix it by finding the culprit.”
“One hell of a mistake,” Balthazar muttered.
“And we’ll spend the next several decades or centuries making it up to her,” Issac vowed. “But first, we need to find the real guilty party so we can move forward. Until that point, we’re stuck in this perpetual cycle of blame, and it’s not healthy for anyone.”
“He’s right.” Aya’s green eyes blazed with power. “What we need right now is to be able to trust each other, not point fingers unnecessarily. So tell us who you suspect, and we’ll go from there.”
“That’s the problem—only those in the inner circle knew about our test,” Lucian said, his expression turning pained. “Someone would have had to orchestrate Osiris compelling Clara to paint her as the villain.”
Issac considered that before saying, “Unless she was always the scapegoat.” It would make sense to have that playing card lying in wait to be used at precisely the right moment. “Osiris’s compulsion isn’t always immediate. And now that we know he’s the creator of all Hydraians and Ichorians, it’s possible he’s left persuasive strands in all of us, for him to tug on as he needs to.”
“Which means he could have compelled her months or years ago, and only recently called in that strand, as you call it.” Lucian lifted his hand to his square jaw to scratch the light dusting of blond hairs growing along his chin. “Do you think our real mole is also being compelled?”
“It’s possible,” Issac said. “But whoever it is must have called him to let him know that he needed to activate his tie to Clara.”
“What I’m trying to understand is the link between Osiris and John,” Aya said. “If Osiris compelled Clara to act as a scapegoat, then he’s actually the one in charge of the mole, not John. And if we’re right about that person being in the inner circle of knowledge, then Osiris let John die.”
Lucian’s eyes took on that faraway gleam they always did when his omniscience kicked in, his mind working through the various puzzle pieces to arrange them into a neat answer for them all to hear.
