“I saidno.” Richard stared at him for a moment before turning to look at Charlotte. “I told you this would happen. The MDF doesn’t care about what their missions will do to our good name. I told you that agreeing to even one mission would embolden Nazari to keep asking for more until everything we’ve worked for lies broken atourfeet.”
“Don’t be so dramatic, Richard,” Charlotte said from where she sat on the leather couch, thin hands folded together tightly in her lap. “Save it for thefundraiser.”
Richard’s mouth ticked downward, eyes narrowing slightly. Jamie watched his parents engage in a staring contest and silent argument that ended when Richard was the one to look away. For all of Richard’s wealth and ambition, for all his status, Charlotte was the richer of the two, and they both knew it. She may have supported his career in politics, played the loving, dutiful wife for the public, but when it came to her children and keeping the family name clean, Charlotte was a force to bereckonedwith.
“We’ve given enough as a family to this never-ending war,” Richard said in a low voice before turning to stab a finger in Jamie’s direction. “Youhave given enough. We shouldn’t have to giveanymore.”
Richard stalked out of the office, loudly calling for his campaign manager. The door slid shut again, sealing off the room from the rest of the suite. Jamie glanced over his shoulder to check that the soundproofing had reset before facing hismother.
Charlotte studied him in silence for almost a minute, strain from the argument—or just the situation in general—creasing tiny lines around her mouth and eyes. Jamie felt a surge of guilt at that realization, about the stress he was putting his parents through with this long-term mission, to say nothing of his decision to remain with the MDF. He knew they would prefer he give up his commission, lay down his weapons, and start over again as a civilian, but he couldn’t bring himself todothat.
He remembered his mother crying over his bedside after Tripoli, in the wake of his survival by way of sheer genetic luck. She’d begged him back then to come home, and he refused. He kept refusing, but his mother never stopped hoping he would one day tell the MDFenough.
“Why Empyrean?” Charlotte finallyasked.
Jamie cleared his throat. “Status, really. The Pavluhkins aren’t interested in people who haven’t achieved a certain level ofwealth.”
Specifically, people who had enough money to help fund criminal enterprises, Splice labs, and scattered mercenary terrorist groups through blackmail and threats. Getting even one metahuman not beholden to a state government was a prize the Pavluhkins coveted likenothingelse.
Charlotte frowned, brows furrowing ever so slightly. Jamie desperately wanted to erase the concern on his mother’s face. “We work with those people, Jamie. They’re our investors and our customers. Putting them at risk because of this mission will have lasting repercussions for our business and itsbottomline.”
Jamie clenched his hands into fists before he caught himself giving in to the tell. His mother noticed; she always noticed. Charlotte was skilled at reading the truth in body language while people spoke lies. She’d taught him how to do the same from a veryyoungage.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’timportant.”
He wondered if Stanislav had seen how this would play out, that Jamie would come away empty-handed and be forced to return to the table to bargain for something else, somethingworse.
Sighing, Charlotte pushed herself to her feet and approached him, the hem of the wool dress she wore swinging around her knees. She came to a stop in front of him, needing to tilt her head back to look him in the eye. This close and Jamie could just make out the faint hint of dark circles beneath her eyes that makeup didn’t completely hide. She would touch it up before dinner tonight, but Jamie could see the campaign—and his mission—was wearingonher.
“You forget,” Charlotte said, reaching up to smooth back some of Jamie’s blond hair like she used to do when he was a child. “Empyrean is my company, and you are my son. I willalwayslove you, and I will always wantyousafe.”
“Mother?”
She settled his suit jacket more firmly over his shoulders with surprisingly steady hands. “Take the Secret Service security detail. Smile for the cameras tonight and any night your father needs you when you can be released from your duties. Come to the campaign stop in Los Angeles on Wednesday and the Boston rally on Thursday. Bepresentfor the campaign, Jamie, and I will work with Gwen to incorporate your needs, whatever theymightbe.”
Jamie swallowed, throat suddenly dry, lips numb from relief. “I won’t let the Pavluhkins destroy what our family hasbuilt.”
He knew he shouldn’t promise something he might not be able to deliver, but Jamie did so anyway. Empyrean was his family’s business, their fortune, his inheritance—his life after this one. Jamie wanted it to still be there when this was all over to share with hisfamily.
WithKyle.
Charlotte smiled, the twist of her lips almost mournful. “I want to believe that, I do. I know how stubborn you can be, Jamie. But this war doesn’t take prisoners, it only makesvictims.”
“I know how you choose to view what I do with my life,” Jamiebegan.
His mother raised a hand, instantly silencing him. She cupped the side of his face, studying him. Jamie didn’t look away, holding still beneath his mother’sperusal.
“You carry too much, Jamie. I worry one day the weight of duty will crush you and I don’t want to lose youtoit.”
“I chose this life,Mother.”
“You chose what we told you to, in the beginning. I regret that, some days.” Charlotte released him and straightened her own shoulders. “I’ll deal with yourfather.”
“Thankyou.”
“Don’t thank me for this. I love you, but don’t thank me.” She stepped around him and headed for the door. “Come along, Jamie. You can meet the men and women who will be assigned to your security detail. I’ll leave it to you to inform Nazari of the change in your status and incorporate how he wants to dealwithit.”
Jamie knew the director wouldn’t be pleased with needing to decide how to handle the Secret Service special agents newly assigned to him. They weren’t like the Callahan family’s private security, and the MDF needed to tread carefully with other federalagencies.
