He got to his feet, careful to keep out of Smith’s view in case it sent fresh fear through him. They likely had only moments before the SWAT team joined them; anything St. James could learn before then might help. Grayson slipped out of the security room, but as he leaned against the wall to keep watch, his gaze stole down the hall to a closed door to a storage closet, the very same one Smith had locked the pacifist version of Reece in back on that November night those weeks ago. At the time, Grayson had been there to free Reece from Stone Solutions’ clutches, but now his goal was to deliver Reece back to them, along with his own brother, and Cora Falcon too.
Grayson pulled out his phone—or, more accurately,Reece’sphone, the phone he was stuck using after Reece had pulled a little switch in Vancouver. He’d discovered texts between Reece and Alex and tried texting the number himself, but hisbrother had already been corrupted for more than two years and was too even-keeled to take the bait. His texts sat on read with no response; he could perfectly picture Alex’s eye-roll that Grayson had even tried.
Reece, though. Reece was still running around withGrayson’sphone, and he’d always been easy to rattle. Grayson sent a pair of texts to his own phone number, then pocketed Reece’s phone, gaze going back to Smith and St. James.
Reece could still be rattled, and that was Grayson’s only motivation for texting a corrupted empath. Obviously. Grayson didn’t have any emotions or feelings to override his judgment. Bad decisions were Reece’s domain.
He just had to get Reece to make another.
Chapter Two
This whole article is bullshit. I was still working on a brief in my office and I saw what actually happened in downtown Vancouver that night. There were at least ten giant assholes in fatigues raging on the street, tearing up cars and threatening pedestrians. Since when do the unhoused dress in tactical gear?
The worst of it was just outside Stone Solutions Canada’s building. Who knows what kind of secrets they have up there? Is this just a cover-up for someone stealing anti-empathy tech?
I can’t believe this story isn’t bigger news. It’s almost like they don’t WANT us to know what’s really happening.
—Comment left on anEmerald City Tribunearticle, “Vancouver police respond to altercation related to drugs, homelessness”
Reece took the truck west over the East Channel Bridge. The sky and water were a shimmering black, like the truck itself, like the corrupted lightning that had changed his empathy. It was sparking in him now, after their heist, reveling in the aftermath of the chaos and violence they’d caused.
“There’s nothing of note in here.” Cora was in the front passenger seat, going through one of the accordion folders they had taken from the security office at the back of the building. “Coffee deliveries. Office supplies. New chairs.”
“Maybe Mr. Eton and Mr. Pelham here can point you to the right place.”
At Alex’s voice, Reece glanced into the review mirror, seeing a flash of glasses on the silhouette in the center of the back seat. Eton and Pelham—Alex’s newly thralled Stone Solutions security guards—sat on either side of him like chessboard knights flanking the king.
“What do you want to know?” one of the guards said eagerly, adoration in his voice.
In the mirror, Alex’s blond-brown hair caught the edge of a passing streetlight.Same as Evan’s, a little voice in Reece’s head noticed.
Reece rolled his eyes, annoyed with himself. So what if it was? Alex and Evan were brothers, and sometimes siblings had the same hair color. He should think of Evan only as the Dead Man, their most dangerous enemy. Alex was the only Grayson Reece could trust now.
Cora glanced over her shoulder. “We’re looking for deliveries of materials, especially anything related to textiles.”
“Oh,” said the other guard. “Those were all shredded.”
“Shredded?” Reece repeated sharply.
“Is that standard procedure?” Cora asked.
“No. Destruction happened early,” said the guard. “We got the order two days ago.”
“From who?” said Alex.
“Smith,” the other guard said. “Dunno who told him to do it.”
Reece only just managed to smother his groan. Of course it was Smith. Of course Reece had fucked up again.
If Cora and Alex had the same thought, or noticed his moment of self-loathing, they were apparently tactful enough not to comment on it. “Delivery records destroyed before we can get them,” was what Cora said, lowering the accordion folder to her lap. “Isn’t that interesting timing.”
The flat sarcasm was layered with unsurprising frustration and bitterness. Stone Solutions had changed Cora from a kindhearted therapist to a ruthless killer in an attempt to secure themselves millions in funding from a senate bill rider. They’d tortured her fiancé to death to make it happen, and now Cora had both corruption’s enhanced empathic abilities and a personal desire to see Stone Solutions pay.
“A temporary setback,” Alex said. “We have the flash drive Reece stole from Stone Solutions Canada to go through still. And our new friends here can write down what they remember, can’t you?”
“Yes, sir,” the guards chorused happily.
Reece took the exit onto Mercer Island, slowing to a stop as he approached a red traffic light. Behind him, he felt Alex lean forward to rest his folded arms on the front seats. “You just committed your second felonious B & E at Stone Solutions,” he said wryly. “You can run a red light.”
