I’d gotten pissed at my dad for that comment he’d made in front of Layla. She’d taken my dad’s statement to mean that Intech would use my notoriety with the public to Intech’s advantage, going as far as to put a contract out on my head.
“As in, you think he’ll put a contract on my head?” I asked.
“Maybe,” he replied through clenched teeth. “Whatever it is, I have a feeling there’s no coming back from this one.”
If Adam was about to use the media to his advantage related in some way to super soldiers and genetic engineering, then my dad was right. We were fucked.
6
SAM
On the way to the war room, I filled my father in on what had happened earlier with Carly, the cameraman, and the reporter.
Surprisingly, he didn’t yell or respond in any way, except to swear a ton. I was sure my feet would be held to the fire once he wasn’t so focused on Adam Emery’s news conference. Or maybe he was treating me with kid gloves given what I’d been through with Layla and my son. Though my father wasn’t the type to dance around anyone or anything.
“I’ll be there in a second,” I said as he opened the door to the war room. “I need to text Jo.” I hadn’t had a chance since we bolted out of the infirmary so quickly. I wanted to make sure she knew I was close by in case she needed me.
After a quick stiff nod, he went inside.
In addition to a war brewing, a storm was coming that had my father’s name written all over it. He was as powerful as I was or more so, and I pitied anyone who got in his way. His patience had grown in the five years since the war with Edmund Rain. My father had been more reserved, professional, and levelheaded, and made damn sure he’d done things by the rule of the Council of Elders. Sure, he was an elder, and even when he hadn’t been, he’d always abided by our laws and certainly held the SEALs accountable. My gut was telling me my old man was about to take matters into his own hands and ditch the council rule.
I believed the entire SEAL team was ready to follow suit. Those of us who had fought Edmund Rain weren’t jumping on a train to travel down those tracks again. The genetic engineering bullshit was yesterday’s news. But as SEALs and soldiers, fighting was our job. We had to protect mankind. Humans played an important role in the evolution of every species. Like them, vampires were born not made. We arose from a species of organisms that developed through the natural selection process—just like humans, or animals, for that matter. All living things had a purpose in the evolutionary process. My father believed our kind was born to keep the peace so humans could thrive, reproduce, and survive. In turn, our kind would too.
The door groaned open, yanking me out of my thoughts.
Tripp came out. “Dude, everything okay? Your father said Layla and the babies were fine.”
I gave him a quick nod. “They’re on the road to recovery.” I prayed they were. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to function. I needed my wits about me to hear what Adam Emery had to say. Whatever came out of his mouth wouldn’t be good. That much I was certain of.
I tapped out a quick message to my sister:Let me know as soon as I can see my family, please. I’m in the war room with Pops. Something big is going down.
No sooner than I pocketed my phone, Tripp was giving me a bro hug. “Everything is going to work out with them. I can feel it.”
“Thanks, man. I seriously don’t know what I would do without you.” Or without any of my SEAL brothers, who were also family.
“I’ll always have your back,” he said as we went inside.
Webb, my father, and Sawyer were standing in front of the movie screen with their shoulders hunched as the air crackled with tension in the theater-style room.
“This blows,” Tripp said, climbing down the steps alongside me. “We should be drinking beer and smoking cigars, but instead, this fucker had to overshadow such a celebratory occasion.”
I believed in karma and had every confidence that dickwad Adam’s kingdom would fall.
“Where is Carly? Did she talk? Any sign of her counterparts hiding in the shadows?” Her presence raised many questions. One in particular—Carly was Adam’s star scientist. So who did Adam have at the helm of genetic engineering?
“She’s in a cell,” he said. “I told her that her husband, Junior, is dead. She didn’t take it well. We’ll question her when we have time. Right now, the master-at-arms command is handling the civilian police, but we have to deal with the reporters.”
“Just say the word, and I’ll erase their memories,” I offered.
“Webb doesn’t want you to do that. It would raise red flags,” he said.
I guessed it didn’t exactly matter. Trying to erase memories would be like trying to hit a Whac-A-Mole.
The commercial ended, and the lead-in music to the cable news network announced that it was showtime. As Tripp and I approached Sawyer, Webb, and my dad, an aerial view of Chicago’s cityscape flashed on-screen.
My gut twisted in anticipation and not in a good way. My father had every right to be fuming and worried. The problems were stacking up higher than the Himalayas. The media was in our faces. Vampire Matthew Costner and shifters Ross Gray and Tucker Whyte were missing. Plus, Roman Brown, Adam Emery, and Harriet Aberdeen had been quiet for the last three months, which meant they were scheming and regrouping.
Sawyer, who was perpendicular to Webb’s left shoulder, bobbed his head at me with a grin. “Congrats, Sam.”
