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And why was there no sign of a cut or burn marks on the left side of his blunt features? Last night, when he’d climbed out of the car with the woman, the wound on his head had looked nasty—and if the amount of blood that had been pouring down his face was anything to go by, it had been deep. Wounds like that didn’t disappear overnight. Not without a trace, anyway. Shapeshifters and shapechangers did have the ability to heal wounds fast, but even they were usually left with scars.
Her gaze flicked to Wetherton. His spudlike face bore several nasty scrapes, and he had an egg-sized lump near his right temple. No anomalies there, at least.
Gray Eyes nodded and shook Wetherton’s hand. “I appreciate that, Minister. The military cannot afford to have our funds cut for the third year in a row. Several projects vital for national security could be in jeopardy if they are.”
“I’ll put your case forward, General. I can’t promise more at this time.”
Blaine nodded and turned for the exit. Then his gaze met Sam’s and he paused. Deep in those gray, soulless depths, she saw surprise. Maybe even shock.
The sort of shock that came when you suddenly and unexpectedly met someone you knew but hadn’t seen for a very long time.
Which again didn’t make sense, given the events of last night. If he did somehow recognize her, if he did know her from the projects, why hadn’t he reacted last night?
“Do we know each other?” he asked, eyes narrowing slightly.
Yeah, she wanted to say. I helped save your ass last night. But something inside stopped her from uttering the words. Instead, she simply said, “I don’t believe so.”
He stepped closer and she resisted the urge to sink back into the sofa. This close, the sensation of his evil was so strong that her insides felt like they were trying to claw their way out of her body.
“Are you military? Ex-military?”
Energy crawled around her—a sensation wholly different from the evil of his soul but just as sickening. That pressure seemed to build around her, as if the energy were trying to crawl into her mind. Telepathy, she realized. He was trying to read her thoughts.
And while the fact that she couldn’t actually feel him in her mind suggested he wasn’t having any immediate luck, she wasn’t about to give him the time to succeed, either.
“No, I’ve never been in the military, General.” She rose, retrieved her badge from her pocket and flipped it out for him to see. “Samantha Ryan, SIU. If you have questions, please ask them. I do not appreciate your attempts at mind reading.”
“Mind reading?” Wetherton said, voice all bluster despite the quick flick of concern he cast the general’s way. “This office is fully shielded against such intrusions, so you must be mistaken, Agent Ryan.”
“No,” she said, her gaze not leaving Blaine’s. “And shielding is not always one hundred percent effective.”
Wetherton’s expression didn’t give much away, but she had the
distinct feeling, just from the way he was looking at the general, that the news that the general could read minds horrified him. Which meant that maybe Wetherton did have secrets he had no wish for the military to uncover. It also meant that there was a whole lot more going on here than what Stephan and the SIU presumed.
The general’s smile was slow and cold. “No, psi shields are never one hundred percent effective. But you are wrong, Agent Ryan. I was not trying to read your thoughts.”
So what the hell had he been trying to do? She shoved her badge back into her pocket and decided to tackle Blaine head on. “So, General, do you work in the same division as General Frank Lloyd?”
He raised his eyebrows. “You know General Lloyd?”
“Yes. I had a brief conversation with him about some former military employees that were getting murdered.”
“Ah, yes, the retired scientists.”
“And the retired specimen donors. Don’t suppose you know anything more about the projects they were involved in, do you?”
“No. I was never involved in that side of the operation.”
“Then what were you involved in?”
“Why do you want to know?” he countered. “You caught and killed the people involved in those murders, correct? So the case is now closed.”
“Actually, no, it’s not, because one of the murderers is still loose. The kite.” It was risky mentioning it, because few people had any idea they existed. The SIU hadn’t yet released an all-points about their existence.
“Kite? What the hell is a kite?” Irritation was very evident in Wetherton’s voice. He had no idea what was going on, and he didn’t like it one bit. But if he was the military’s puppet, shouldn’t he have had some clue? “Beyond something flown on a string, that is.”
Blaine didn’t react to the mention of the kite. He didn’t do anything more than stare at her in that flat, calculating way. Either he knew about the kite and wasn’t about to give her any information or he didn’t know anything and wasn’t going to admit it.
