Kain gives a rare smile. “You don’t know what we want you to do.”
“Whatever it is, I need to get paid for it,” I say. “My mother was in an accident. Machines keep her alive, and my jobs barely cover her life support bills. So as payment for this job, I want you to heal her. Not with vampire blood—that didn’t work—with an actual healer. Do that, and I’ll do whatever it is you want.”
Kain doesn’t look surprised in the least. He glances at a woman two rows from him, who pulls her hood back to reveal fine features surrounded by glossy black hair.
“That’s Isis,” Felix says. “She’s a healer who recently got a Council seat.”
“Solve the case, and I’ll help your mother.” Isis levels an arrogant look at me. “I hope you realize what such a payment is worth.”
Oh, I realize, all right. It would take all the money I’ve seen in my life multiplied a thousandfold to hire a healer on Gomorrah.
“Let’s talk details,” Kain says and strides out of the coliseum.
I follow his silent form through the castle and up a narrow staircase into what must be a tower. The rusty iron hinges screech as he pushes open the massive door, and we enter a circular room with stone walls.
“Hey, your camera just cut out,” Felix says worriedly. “Did you—”
“So,” I say to Kain, ignoring Felix’s technical problems. “What is it you want me to figure out?”
“Before I explain, you should know that this is a delicate matter.” Kain leans against the wall and folds his arms across his chest.
Great. Delicate matter, powerful people. What could go wrong? “I keep all my work confidential,” I say, eyeing him warily.
“Good. But I still want to highlight how sensitive this situation is.” He flashes his fangs, turning his already unattractive face practically ghoulish. “If news of this gets out, I will personally kill you. Slowly.”
The threat is delivered in the casual tone I’d use when asking a coworker what time it is. Wow. I thought Kain was on my side, but it seems he only protected me from Filth because he needed me intact for this job.
I raise my chin. “If news of whatever this is gets out, it won’t be because I blabbed.”
“Fine.” His fangs disappear. “Here’s the deal. Four members of the Council have died under strange circumstances. At this point, everyone thinks it’s murder and that a member of the Council must be responsible.”
Felix whistles in my earpiece, reminding me that the secret is already out.
I swallow hard. Someone killed four of the most powerful Cognizant on this world? How the hell am I supposed to solve something like that? I can’t even figure out which of my coworkers at the rehab facility keeps eating my leftovers—at least not without invading their dreams.
Oh. He can’t mean that.
“I’ll convince everyone to give you access to their dreams,” Kain says, way ahead of me already. “You’ll be able to see their memories and figure out the culprit, right?”
“Maybe.” I try to keep my voice even. “It’s not as straightforward as that. Sometimes I have to work on—”
“Don’t worry about the details. Whatever it takes, you’ll do it.”
“Yes, of course I will,” I say, more to hype myself up than to reassure him. “My mom’s life depends on it.”
“Indeed.” His fangs show up again. “And in case that’s not motivation enough, your own life depends on it, too.” Leaning in, he whispers into my ear, the one without the earbud, “I didn’t inform the Council about the full extent of your crimes. Bringing Gomorran technology to this world is forbidden, and as you can imagine, if forced to vote again, especially after your failure, the Council would not let you off so easily.”
I back away, my heart rate uneven. Around my wrist, Pom has turned pitch black. “You don’t need to threaten me,” I say, amazed by how steady my voice is under the circumstances. “I’ll do anything to heal my mother.”
“All the better,” he says. “I just wanted us to be on the same page.”
I straighten my spine. “I need the details of the murders and access to everyone’s dreams, as well as the authority to interview people and review any records I wish.”
“You’ll get all that. I’ll make the arrangements. Wait here.” He disappears from the room with vampiric speed.
Felix clears his throat. “An unsolved murder case must look bad for him, what with being the new head of the Enforcers and all.”
I hadn’t thought of that. Still, he didn’t need to be so—
“Hello, Bailey,” comes a smooth, deep male voice from my right. “Given the circumstances, I decided we need to talk.”
Chapter Twelve
“Who’s that?” Felix asks in the earpiece.
Great question. I peer intently at the location the voice came from but see no one there.
Then a man materializes in front of me.
And what a man. Tall and broad-shouldered, he’s wearing a bespoke suit that hugs his muscled body in all the right places. His face, framed by thick, silky-looking dark hair, is even more impressive. Ocean-blue eyes glint at me from beneath straight black slashes of eyebrows, and his high cheekbones appear to have been carved by a sculptor, along with his chiseled jaw and dimpled chin. Oh, and there’s a hint of stubble on that gorgeous face, as if he hadn’t shaved this morning.
It’s official. He’s hotter than Adonis, the most popular uber singer on Gomorrah. Wait—maybe he is a celeb. Something about his face does look familiar…
As I study each feature, I catch myself wanting to kiss those firm yet plush lips. Which is beyond insane. We’ve just met, and I have huge problems with touching in general, let alone touching that leads to the exchange of bacteria-laden bodily fluids.
Puck. I’m still staring at him. How long is it socially acceptable to stare at someone? Worse yet, my furry wristband has just turned an embarrassing coral pink—the color of sexual arousal.
At least this guy doesn’t know that my looft displays my emotions this way, or what each color means.
Hold on. All this time, he’s been staring at me just as intently. I’ve got to say something. Anything.
What comes out is a lame “Hi.”
A sensual smile touches those kissable lips. “Hi, Bailey.” He extends his hand. “I’m Valerian.”
On autopilot, I clasp his palm, noting with some small corner of my mind just how big and warm it is. He squeezes my hand gently, then releases it, his smile widening at my continued dumbstruck silence.
For four straight seconds, I don’t reach for the sanitizer—a record of some kind.
Then my common sense kicks in, and I get the bottle out and sterilize my hand, finally processing his introduction.
Valerian. That’s the guy who hired me for all those VR-related jobs.
This is what he looks like? Until now, we’d been communicating via encrypted email. If I’d known all the facts, our meetings would’ve been in person. Maybe even in some romantic, scenic locations, like the shore of that beautiful lake on—