And Mia put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “It’s alright, Donna.” She was afraid for her boss, suddenly. These people had God knew what kind of jurisdiction, but anyone willing to lock up a centuries’ old vampire prince? It was safe to say that they weren’t too worried about the law of the land. Or, worse, they were far, far out of reach of regular law enforcement. Whatever was happening, this was her family, her fault, and her problem. “I’ll talk to them, at least.” Her heart slammed against her ribs, but she forced herself to be calm. “Is it alright if we use your office?”
Donna twisted to look at her, outwardly furious. And afraid. “Mia,” she tried.
Mia shook her head and forced a tiny smile. “I can handle it.”
Donna held her gaze a long moment, but finally nodded.
“I think I left Brando’s door open.”
“I’ll check,” Donna said, and grabbed Mia’s hand, giving it a brief, crushing squeeze before she headed down the barn aisle.
Inwardly quaking, Mia folded her arms, fixed the two strangers with her best unimpressed look, and said, “Follow me.”
The back of her neck prickled with awareness as she led them there. Without turning her head, she scanned the stalls and washracks they passed for any sign of Val, but he was gone. If astral projection sapped his energy, she had no idea how draining showing her his past had been. She had the sense that she’d only seen a part of what he wanted her to, that they were only getting started, and that, for some reason, his consciousness had been snatched away from her. With every step, her panic mounted. Where was he? Was he alright? Was he being punished?
But she had to keep her wits; had to stay calm if she wanted to help Val.
She still had her phone in her hand, and she opened up her video camera as discreetly as possible before she shoved it back in her pocket. Whatever they were about to say to her, she wanted it recorded.
By the time she reached the office and ushered Treadwell and Ramirez inside, she’d begun to formulate a plan, resolve settling like lead in her belly.
She heeled the door shut, and then leaned back against it, arms folded.
Ramirez went to peer out the window, gapping the blinds with her fingers, and then settled in a loose stance, one hand propped on her hip.
Treadwell, by contrast, perched on the edge of the leather sofa. Trying to look nonthreatening, Mia decided, like she was a horse liable to spook.
He started to speak, and Mia ran right over him.
“You think I’m fraternizing with a dangerous prisoner? Tell me about this person, then. Who is it?”
The question hit him like a slap. His mouth opened and his expression went comically blank.
Ramirez picked up the slack. “Don’t get cute. You know exactly who we’re talking about.”
Mia stared at her a moment. The other woman was medium height, lean, her fitted dark clothes showing off compact muscles and a fighter’s grace. With her dark hair pulled back in a severe ponytail, and her brows tucked low over her eyes, she looked a bit like one of the female henchmen in an action movie. But sharp. And very much real. And staring Mia down.
Mia took a breath. “You’re trying to get me to admit to something, right? I think it’s only fair you tell me what.”
He frowned at her, considering. “Alright.”
“What?” Ramirez hissed.
Treadwell ignored her. “You know exactly what –who– I’m talking about, right? Otherwise you wouldn’t be this defiant. If I walked up to any random civilian and accused them of fraternizing with the enemy, they’d be outraged and frightened. You just look angry. So you’re either” – he started listing things off on his fingers – “guilty, trying to throw us off the scent, or he’s filled your head with so much bullshit that you actually feel protective of him. Which I understand is his MO.”
Mia took a deep breath, and tried to think. There was a way to handle this if she insisted on denial.
And there was a way to handle this if she wanted to help Val.
An outsider might have blamed it on her terminal diagnosis, but that wasn’t why she chose Val. No, it went deeper and simpler than that: because she loved him, and she wasn’t sure anyone else did at the moment.
She exhaled, steady now. “I wasn’t sure I believed it – I guess I didn’t want to. Because how, in this day and age, does something like that go on, unnoticed,allowedby whatever higher authority is supposed to prevent that sort of thing.”
Ramirez’s scowl shifted a fraction, became uncertain.
Treadwell’s brows jumped.
“What sort of people keep a man locked up for over five-hundred years?”
