Page 40 of Petrified

“But I knew he wasn’t one.”

Gerald nods. “You did, even with almost no understanding of your own designation. You could not identify what was underneath the false signature, but your Chameleon senses recognized that what everyone else smelled was manufactured.”

That old anger hits differently now because for the first time there is an answer sitting underneath it. I put one hand against the edge of the desk, careful not to reach for the file yet. “Why was he there? What did he want from my father?”

Gerald turns another page before answering. “Information about you. Your father had begun researching Chameleons after noticing things in you he could not explain through his own wolf bloodline. Your sensitivity to magical scent appeared first. There were also early camouflage incidents he could not account for, and he eventually found enough older references to suspect what you were becoming.”

“He knew I was a Chameleon?”

“He suspected strongly enough to start asking questions.” Gerald glances down at one of the copied records. “Private archives. Old designation registries. Bloodline histories that had not been accessed in years. He was looking for confirmation.”

“And somebody noticed.”

Gerald nods. “The Veilborn did. He had been searching those same private archives for rare designations, and your father’s questions told him there might be a living Chameleon nearby. He confronted your father looking for your identity. Your father refused to give him anything, and the confrontation ended with his death.”

My stomach twists hard enough that I have to shift my weight. Rowan stays close without crowding me while Amand moves to the other side of the desk and studies the file from where he stands.

“So the rogue-werewolf story was bullshit from the beginning.” I drag my gaze back to Gerald. “What happened after they arrested him?”

“He died in custody from injuries sustained during the arrest. I spent years looking for evidence that somebody else had directed him toward your father because I expected there to be more, but I never found any. He was hunting rare designations for himself.”

For once, hearing Gerald admit he doesn't know something doesn't irritate me. I'm too busy putting together the part that matters more.

“You had all of this before you met me.”

Gerald goes quiet again, and that silence tells me enough that I step closer to the desk. “I’m not asking whether you started researching Chameleons before me. I’m asking how long you had my father’s file while I was walking around believing nobody else knew what really killed him.”

Gerald meets my eyes. “I found the file years before you came to Essence. I didn't know then that you would eventually become the Chameleon I was looking for, but once Ginny’s case brought you onto my radar, I went back through everything I had and connected the names.”

The answer hits harder than a one-word admission could have.

He didn't simply learn about my father after meeting me.

He already had pieces of my life sitting in a drawer, and once he realized who I was, he kept them there while he stood in front of me pretending we were discovering everything together.

Rowan’s arm comes around my waist before I realize my body is moving.

Gerald watches me with the same expression he used when he explained fatal attraction. Calm. Patient. Like information belongs to him until he decides I'm ready to have it.

“You stood in my office and told me I wasn’t alone.” My voice shakes, and I hate it enough that I almost stop talking. “You knew my father had been killed because someone was looking for a Chameleon, and you said nothing.”

Gerald’s expression hardens. “I didn't tell you because knowing why he targeted your father would have sent you digging into a designation you barely understood while you were still learning what you were.”

“That wasn’t your decision to make.”

“You would have gone looking for everything you could find about Veilborn.”

“Probably.”

“And you weren't prepared.”

I laugh and feel Rowan’s arm tighten around me. “There it is again.”

Gerald’s expression hardens. “This is not the same situation.”

“It is exactly the same situation. You decide I can’t handle the truth, so you keep it. You decide a case might make me stronger, so you hand it to me without telling me what you’re testing. You decide Rowan surviving proves the risk was acceptable, so suddenly it doesn’t matter that he could have died.”

“I was trying to keep you alive.”