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Tribunal leaders…
I was shocked out of my reverie, sitting upright like I’d been stuck with a cattle prod.
“What’s wrong?”
“In Paris, Mouse said the letter he got with the shot was signed A.”
Since I’d already explained Desmond’s situation via text, he didn’t need to ask about the shot. He did ask, “Who is Mouse?”
“He was our informant. A little double-crosser too, since he was working for Peyton. He sold us up the river. Or the sewer, in this case.”
“And you’re trusting something he told you?”
“I know, I know. Chances are as good he’s lying as they are of him being honest, but still… Do you remember the West Coast Tribunal?”
“They were so charming. How could I forget?”
“Galen, Eilidh and Arturo.”
“Your point?”
“I thought the person who betrayed us while we were out there was an underling, a sentry or warden. But what if it was someone with real power? What if the A who sent Peyton the shot was Arturo?”
“That’s a stretch…”
“Maybe.” Except now that the thought was in my head, I couldn’t shake it. Arturo had the power to send my father out on the mission that ended up getting him snagged by The Doctor, and he had the influence to make Eilidh think the whole thing was her idea. He could cover his tracks because he was above suspicion.
“Isn’t it almost exactly what Daria did when she framed you? Think about it. Shift attention away from the real villain. They brought in outside help, even appealing to Sig to make it seem like they were, I don’t know…innocent?” My mouth was working faster than my brain now.
“You can’t accuse a Tribunal leader of treason without proof. And that’s what this would be, if he was caught conspiring with a known rogue. He would be bound and locked away. If you’re going to run with this theory, you need more.”
Ugh, just what I needed. Another project.
If what Holden said was right, I couldn’t hop on a plane and fly to Los Angeles to kill Arturo myself if I proved he was the bad guy here. I couldn’t be on two Tribunals.
I flopped back again and raked my fingers through my hair, trying to chase away my mounting headache. When had I last eaten? Hours? Days? I couldn’t remember the last blood I’d had, which was probably contributing to my cranky mood and my throbbing temples.
“I stopped in to see the Oracle before I came,” Holden said, reading me like the seasoned pro he was. “There’s fresh blood in the fridge.”
“Thanks, want any?” It was an empty offer. He’d only drink bagged blood if it was the absolute last option available. I wasn’t too keen on it myself lately, recalling the way I’d been rewarded for good behavior by being tossed clear bags of donor blood. But since I wasn’t about to start feeding off live humans—willing or not—I stuck with what I could stomach.
At least with blood from Calliope I felt relatively sure it had been donated freely at some point or another.
I made my way into the kitchen again and heated a glass of A positive in the microwave for twenty seconds before returning to the bedroom, sipping the liquid slowly. With each mouthful I felt a little more like myself.
“So the fur ball is…well, he’s a fur ball?”
“On his behalf I say hey. And yeah, Lucas is working on him now.”
“You trust the wolf to do what’s right?”
I shrugged and swallowed back the rest of the contents of the glass. “I don’t have much choice.”
Honestly, I didn’t trust Lucas as far as I could throw him. And strong though I was, I couldn’t throw him very far.
Chapter Twenty-Two
I wasn’t free from the nightmares.
