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This time he didn’t smile. “I’ll send the report to Mr. Magnarella and Dr. Edmonds.”
“You don’t seem enthusiastic about it.”
His gaze briefly met mine. “Like I said, I’ve seen some of the reports. They’re not all roses and sunshine. Sometimes experiments go awry.”
“Aw, Albert. It’s sweet of you to be concerned.”
“I’m not concerned. Mr. Magnarella would never deliberately harm anyone.”
Otto was spot on about the devotion of Magnarella’s employees. Could Albert truly be that clueless about his boss’s intentions, or did the vampire use some sort of compulsion tactic in addition to the ironclad contracts?
Albert licked his lips, as though choosing his next words carefully. “You don’t have to do this even if you pass. You can still opt out at this stage, in case you were wondering.”
“Then Dusty would have to find someone else. What’s the big deal? I get a pair of wings and my ego gets bruised?” I shrugged. “No permanent damage.”
Albert stared at me for a beat. “No,” he finally agreed. “No permanent damage.” He offered his hand. “Good luck, Lorelei.”
I contemplated the handshake. It might give me valuable insight, except I believed Albert that he wasn’t privy to the rest of the process. Still, it might tell me what he saw in the reports.
I clasped his hand and shook, dipping into his mind for a peek. I’d be in and out so fast, he wouldn’t know his mind had been violated.
A quick sweep revealed a recurring nightmare that Albert’s employment would be terminated, as well as one where he waited for hours at a restaurant for his date Wonder Woman to show, but she never did. Waiting for Gal Godot seemed to trigger all his insecurities. The uncertainty. The discomfort. The rejection. I felt sorry for Albert. He seemed like a nice guy, albeit one who worked for a notorious mobster.
I left the compound feeling uneasy. Despite his devotion to his boss, Albert seemed less than thrilled to pass me along to Dr. Edmonds. Whatever he’d glimpsed in those reports couldn’t have been good.
I called Gun on the drive back to the Castle.
“What’s the verdict?” he prompted.
“I passed the physical, but so did Dusty, so I’m not sure how much that means.”
“Still, that’s great news,” Gun said. “Next step complete.”
“Hey, Gun. I think this might be more dangerous than we thought.”
“Why? What did you learn?”
“Nothing concrete.” I shared Albert’s unease and the vague reference to problematic reports.
“I’m suddenly grateful to be a swan,” I heard Dusty say in the background.
“Better than a duck,” Gun replied.
“Absolutely,” I agreed. “Ducks are dicks.”
“Gods, what if they turn you into a duck?” Gun said.
“I don’t think there’s a god associated with a duck, is there?” Dusty asked.
Gun scoffed. “Are you kidding? There’s a god associated with everything on earth. There’s probably a god of the waffle iron.”
“If there is,” Dusty said, “I’d worship them.”
“You and me both, sister,” I said.
“What’s next?” Gun asked.
“As usual, I await the next set of mysterious instructions.”
