CHAPTER ONE
Three weeks after the brutal murder of Senator Hannah Hathaway, best known for authoring a bill introducing the country’s strictest anti-empathy laws, the mood in Seattle remains tense.
“People are scared,” said a source from within Hathaway’s office, who asked to remain anonymous. “They’re saying some of the executives at Stone Solutions were linked to the murder, but how could they be? Stone Solutions makes the empaths’ gloves. They keep us safe from empaths.”
“American Minds Intact has always stood for the right to privacy from empathy, and we will always stand with Stone Solutions,” AMI president, Beau Macy, said. “We continue to call for an ongoing investigation into Seattle’s empaths, who will always be this city’s greatest threat.”
No new information has been shared on the condition of Stone Solutions CEO Cedrick Stone, who was reportedly hospitalized the day after Senator Hathaway’s murder. Hathaway’s bill, S.B. 1437, recently passed in the Senate and will be up for a vote in the House.
—THE EMERALD CITY TRIBUNE, “SEATTLE STILL REELING FROM NOVEMBER’S MURDERS AND EMPATH CONTROVERSIES”
If Evan Graysonhad been someone other than the Dead Man, he might’ve felt something about spending yet another day of inaction in an eighteen-degree Washington, DC. Where he was yet again crammed into the smallest—and most isolated—conference room, with an overflowing table of bickering directors representing all the various empathy-related organizations.
Someone else especially might’ve had feelings about a room of wealthy, high-powered people shooting him dirty looks when they thought he wouldn’t notice. But Grayson didn’t make decisions to make others happy for the same reason he had no feelings about the size of the conference room, or the endless sniping, or those glares. Holt Traynor, director of the Empath Initiative, had requested he attend this latest meeting; all the Dead Man was concerned with was learning why.
He leaned back against the conference room wall, listening.
“I agree with you, as I usually do,” Director Traynor was saying to Director Victor Nichols of the Polaris Empathic Research Facility. “But a United States senator behind a controversial anti-empathy bill is dead, and the head of the country’s biggest anti-empathy defense facility has been implicated in the murder. EI is under a microscope; the public needs to believe we’re acting.”
Traynor was a former army general; a big man with a crisp suit, close-cropped brown hair, and a perpetual poker face, maybe from years of hiding his feelings from empaths. Unlike Traynor, Nichols had an openly bitter expression, his brown hair uncombed, his skin pale under the fluorescent light as his glasses slid down his sweaty nose. His gaze darted to Grayson, then back to Director Traynor. “The public is EI’s problem, not mine,” Nichols said. “I was not expecting moreguestsat Polaris and I’m expected to believe I have Cedrick to blame.”
His tone was deeply sarcastic.Guestswas a euphemism, as wasEmpathic Research Facility. Polaris was the facility for corrupted empaths, ones who’d been twisted from harmless pacifists into sadistic paranormal killers. Polaris was part of the Stone Solutions web but created and run like its own kingdom by Nichols for more than twenty years.
Or it had been, before Grayson had come along. He wasn’t much older than Polaris itself but had a lot of opinions about how empaths were treated, even the corrupted ones. The Dead Man also had the dubious privilege of being completely unique among the country’s anti-empathy weapons, and so Traynor had forced Nichols to listen to Grayson’s conditions. Nichols wasn’t very fond of Grayson, but being liked was just one more thing Grayson had no feelings about.
Next to Nichols, the president of Stone Solutions Canada, Vivian Marist—American, not Canadian, despite her role—raised a perfectly arched blond eyebrow at FBI Assistant Director Jacobs, who nodded solemnly, like he’d understood whatever invisible message she’d passed him.
“All of us in this room know that a corrupted empath was behind the murders that took place that day, but Cedrick Stone is taking the blame because he masterminded it,” Director Traynor said. “Yes, the empath used emotional control to thrall a senator, and turned several other thralls loose in a bloody rampage, but we have undeniable evidence that Stone was part of the group that chose to corrupt that empath.”
Traynor looked like it pained him to admit it, and maybe it did. Traynor had had a long military career before he’d been appointed to run EI and had known the Stones since their defense contracting days. When you got to the heart of things, empathy organizations were run by money and nepotism, same as most big corporations and government agencies Grayson knew of.
“This room is aware of that little distinction,” Nichols said. “But your preciouspublicisn’t. They only know Stone Solutions lost three of its executives three weeks ago, and the country is outraged and terrified. Everyone wants to know: Who’s going to keep them safe from empathy now?”
Grayson’s watch silently vibrated on his wrist. He glanced down to see a text.
Hey.
Reece.
Marist cut her eyes to Grayson, then lifted her chin. “Stone Solutions will rise to the occasion, as we always do,” she said loftily, and no one would’ve missed her implication that the Dead Man sure wasn’t rising to the occasion. “But as long as Cedrick is still alive, we are not replacing him with a new CEO. The accusations and implications can continue, but Stone Solutions will continue to deny his involvement; anything else would be tantamount to admitting the empaths have won.”
Grayson’s watch buzzed again.
Reece: You around? I don’t know what time zone you’re in.
The Dead Man had a job to do, and no time or desire to spare a thought for anything else. And thus Grayson never shared his personal phone number outside of a select, trusted network of folks in the same business he was.
At least, that had been the case up until three weeks ago.
“EI should release a statement of support for Stone Solutions as a company. There’s something you can do to set people’s minds at ease.” Jacobs gestured at Marist. “You couldn’t ask for a better figurehead to manage this crisis than Vivian here. American Minds Intact loves her, and it would send the right message to the public, to see EI supporting AMI’s top choice.”
And the choke collar on the empaths would stay tight, like EI preferred it.
Marist gave Jacobs a bright smile as Grayson pulled his phone out of his pocket, keeping an ear on the conversation as he tapped out a response to Reece.
Grayson: How do you have time to text? Thought you were moving today.
Some of the directors exchanged nods and glances. “Finally, a voice of reason,” Director Nichols muttered, as he pushed his glasses up again, his nose still shining with sweat, pale blue eyes bloodshot behind the lenses.
