Beneath the Skin

29 A DIRTY MIRROR

ALEXANDRIA, VA

SHADOW BRANCH HQ

March 26

MERRI SUCKED IN A long breath of air, opened her eyes, and got a stunning eye-level view of beige carpet. Great. Lovely. Sleep knocked me on my ass before I could reach the bed. Damned stay-awake pills.

Rising to her feet, Merri walked into the bedroom, peeling off her clothes as she went and dropping them behind her. She paused, her hands reaching for the back of her bra. A scrap of yellow legal paper lay on the carpet just inside the door.

A smile curved her lips. Looked like Em had left his usual, I’m awake, you’re not note. An on-the-road tradition between them. Picking up the paper, she flipped it over. Yup. Emmett’s sloppy scrawl—in felt-tip, no less.

HAHAHA! By the time you wake up, I’ll already be debriefed and lounging in my spacious luxury room! You snooze you lose!!

“Lucky bastard,” Merri muttered. Wadding up the note, she lobbed it into the trash basket beside the bed. She sat on the bed beside her laptop. Green telltales winked along the computer’s slim edge, a flash drive still plugged into a USB port.

Before-Sleep memories sledgehammered through Merri’s consciousness: contacting her mère de sang about the Fallen Stonehenge, sneaking into Purcell’s office and downloading files.

Looking at those files.

“Let me hold him!” Genevieve screams.

Ice-cold fury frosted Merri’s veins, so cold, she half-expected to see white mist pouring out from beneath her skin.

Dante Baptiste—not Prejean, no way that goddamned child-pimping bastard’s last name should ever be attached to anyone, let alone a True Blood.

A True Blood—stolen at birth—had been shaped into the cold, murdering monster Bad Seed and the fucked-up minds behind it had yearned for. He’d been programmed, designed, to kill; those he loved hadn’t been immune to that design.

Chloe lies in a pool of her own blood, her blue eyes empty.

But Baptiste had loved. At least once. Something true sociopaths were incapable of—except for self-love. Maybe that meant Baptiste could still be salvaged.

She needed to talk to Emmett and Galiana.

Unhooking her bra, then pulling down and kicking off her panties, Merri hurried into the bathroom and hit the shower. But not even the fresh and soothing scent of her English lavender body wash could ease her troubled thoughts.

I have a suspicion that events beyond the scope of mortals or even vampires might be unfolding.

Merri had a feeling Galiana might be right. And that scared the ever-loving shit out of her.

EMMETT OPENED THE DOOR and waved his partner inside with a grand, sweeping gesture. “Enter, She Who Is About to Face the Spanish Inquisition,” he teased as Merri, her lavender-scented hair wet and slicked back from her face, slipped into the room. “Wanna grab some java before your debrief?”

“No,” Merri said. She pulled her clove cigarettes from the pocket of her black suede jacket and lit one.

“What’s got you all worked up?” Emmett asked, closing the door. He turned around to face her. Leaned one shoulder against the door. “The debrief was routine—”

Merri shook her head. “I’m not worried about the debrief.” She reached into her pocket and grabbed the flash drive, then held it between her thumb and index finger for Emmett to see. “You need to look at this.”

“I’ll bite. What’s on it?”

“Prejean’s history. Beyond what we were given. Way beyond.”

Emmett chuckled and pushed away from the door. “Okay. I’ll bite again. What were we given about said Prejean?”

“Quit playing with me, Thibodaux,” Merri said, exhaling clove-scented smoke. “Now’s not the time. You remember all that enhanced vampire bullshit Gillespie gave us about Prejean and about him being part of some mysterious TSP? Well, that’s exactly what it was—bullshit. He’s a god-damned True Blood.”

“Yeeaahh, right, a True Blood working in a government TSP. Oh, hey. I know! He was teaching them how to keep things really secret, things like their existence.”

“It’s not like Prejean had a choice. And that’s not his name, by the way.”

Emmett’s amusement faded. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. Want to start at square one?”

Merri stopped pacing. She stared at Emmett. “What?”

“Exactly, sistah. What. But I’m listening, so enlighten me.”

A cold lump of dread sank like a scuttled submarine into the pit of Merri’s stomach. Her fingers curled around the flash drive and tucked it against her palm. “What did you discuss during the debrief, Em?”

“What the hell, Merri? You know we can’t discuss that before you go in.”

“Tell me, goddammit.”

Emmett crossed the short distance between them and planted himself in front of her. “What’s going on?”

A muscle flexed in her jaw. “The debrief, tell me.”

“All right. We discussed the Rodriguez case, of course,” he replied. “And how you and me discovered evidence that indicated Wallace and Lyons suckered some poor transient desperate for cash into whacking Rodriguez, then whacked the transient and made it all look like a burglary gone bad. ”

“Yeah? And why did Wallace and Lyons want Rodriguez dead?”

“You know this, Merri. Why are you making me repeat it? They wanted Rodriguez dead because he’d learned they’d falsified evidence in several cases …”

Tears stung Merri’s eyes. The motherfuckers had wiped Emmett. That’s why they’d taken him into debrief early—to separate them. She wiped at the tears threatening to spill over her lashes with a furious sweep of her thumb.

Wipes happened to witnesses and perps, not to SB field agents.

What the hell had she and Emmett stumbled into?

“Merri, are you crying?” Emmett asked, voice low. “You’re freaking me out.”

“They’ve wiped your memory, Em. They fucking wiped your memory.”

The color drained from Emmett’s face. He stared at her. “No, that can’t be. Why would they? They brought us here to congratulate us for …” He shook his head. “No. No.”

Merri latched her fingers around his forearm, felt the hard muscle beneath. He looked down into her eyes. “I’m next,” she said. “Part of the reason why is on that flash drive. Maybe what we discovered at the compound is another part of why.”

“The compound? Shit! What compound? What did we discover?”

“If that’s gone too, then I’m fucking right.” Merri sucked in a deep lungful of smoke, then exhaled. She looked up into Emmett’s eyes. “Have I ever given you reason not to trust me?”

“Nope.”

“You need to trust me now, Em, okay?”

Emmett raked his fingers through his hair. Drew in a shaky breath. Nodded. “Okay. If you’re next, then we’ve gotta get out of here.”

“Truth, brothah.” Merri squeezed his arm one more time before releasing it. “Leave behind everything you can’t slip inside your laptop case or in your pockets. I’ll do the same.”

“Yeah, strolling along the corridor suitcase in hand might be a dead giveaway.”

Merri nodded. “We’ve got a little bit of time. I’m not supposed to be in debrief until twenty hundred hours.”

Emmett glanced at his watch. “Twenty minutes. Think there’ll be problems getting out?”

“There’s no reason for them to think we’d try to escape—we both believe we’re doing a routine debrief.” Merri strode to the door. “No reason for alarm or worry. No reason for us to be watched.”

“Roger that.”

“See you in five.” Merri opened the door, then paused. She turned around.

Emmett grabbed his shoulder holster from the easy chair he’d tossed it onto and buckled it on, the leather creaking. Picking up his Colt .45, he chambered a round, then slid the gun into the holster.

Memory wiped.

A sick feeling twisted through her. Was her little data-theft adventure in Purcell’s office part of the reason why? “Em?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m so sorry.”

He looked at her, his gaze steady. “Don’t be.”

Merri slipped out the door. After she and Emmett escaped somewhere safe, she’d make sure he learned the truth. She’d make sure he learned the flash drive’s contents inside and out, backward and frontward. She’d make sure no one would ever do another B&E gig in his mind and steal bits of his life, his reality, away again.

Merri’s mère de sang responded immediately, concern buzzing through her sending. <I told you to be careful, girl. What’s happened and how can I help? >

<The vampire I mentioned before? He’s a True Blood and he’s really young and in a huge amount of trouble.>

A second of stunned silence pulsed through Merri’s mind, then: < A True Blood. By all that’s holy, Merri-girl, that’s good news.>

<Not necessarily, but I’ll explain all that later. They wiped part of Emmett’s memory, and I’m next. We’re going on the run.>

<Where are you going? I’ll send help. You could come to Savannah.>

<No, first place they’ll look for me. Once we’re out of here, I’ll let you know.>

<They hunt you, they’ll be starting a fight they’ll wish they never started.>

<Keep out of it for now, please. The True Blood’s name is Dante Baptiste. He’s from New Orleans and he’s on the run. If he’s still alive, that is.>

<I’ll look into it. Keep safe, child. I’ll be waiting to hear from you.>

<I will and thanks.>

Merri looped the strap of her laptop’s black leather carrying case over her shoulder, then left her room. Emmett waited for her in the hall.

“You take the south elevators to the parking garage, I’ll take the north,” he said. “I’ll meet you at the car.”

“You mean I’ll meet you,” Merri said with a quick smile. She moved.