“Hollis, she doesn’t need to see that,” Ellen argued. “Once she knows, there’s no going back.”
Kim stared at the file, then Ellen. “Who are you?” she asked.
“She’s a colleague, someone who understands the infection we’ve been studying for the last seven years.” He crossed the room and placed the file on his desk. “And she’s my…the woman I plan on spending the rest of my life with.” He couldn’t refer to her as his mate in front of Kim—not without losing all credibility in a five second span. “This will explain things that might sound…impossible. And why meeting with Cyrus White alone will only lead to disaster.”
Kim placed her hand on the file, her dark eyes filling with tears. “All I want is my mother.”
&nbs
p; Ellen grabbed the box of tissues off the top of the file cabinet and handed it to her. The look she sent Hollis’s way mirrored all the restless torment that his wolf was battling. Ellen knew what she was capable of, but her pregnancy made shifting impossible. Hollis had no idea what his wolf was capable of, but he could never shift or his heart would give out. Both longed to retrieve Kim’s mother for her, but neither was physically capable.
“Help is on the way,” Hollis offered, without promising a thing.
Kim sat, ran her hands on her thighs, and opened the file.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Ellen asked him, her hand warm against his forearm.
“No,” he answered honestly. “But I’m not Mal. Or Cyrus. I won’t lock her up for her own good.” He paused, lowering his voice. “Not yet.”
Ellen nodded, sliding up onto the counter to sit and lean against the wall.
Hollis did his best to leave Kim alone, busying himself with straightening the lab before sitting at his desk to review his emails. It was twelve sixteen.
Kim sat, reading over the documents, notes, and copies of statistical documents that dated back more than a century. A list of dated accidents, victims’ names, and unexplained deaths. Cyrus White’s movements—what could be traced, that is. There was no avoiding the truth: Cyrus White was evil.
“This is the man who has my mother?” Kim asked, skimming the last page.
“Yes,” Hollis said, watching her closely.
She shook her head. “My mother is dead?”
“We can’t be certain,” Ellen said.
“I feel confident she is,” Hollis said, nodding at the clock. “If she’s not, you both will be once you give him the blood.”
“You are like he is? Something more than human?”
“I’d like to think we’re better than he is,” Hollis offered. “Most of the time.”
“All this time you’ve sought to cure yourself and those you love?”
He nodded. “And been unsuccessful.”
“But you keep trying. It’s what we do for those who matter.” Kim stood. “The blood will kill him?”
“Or cure him,” Ellen offered. “That was the original design.”
“One we’ve failed to achieve,” Hollis reminded her. For the first time, he was glad he’d failed. Cyrus didn’t deserve to live. And, dammit, curing the pack—curing Ellen—felt wrong.
“If I take it to him, I can get my mother, and you’ll still have the element of surprise,” Kim said. “I have to try.”
He shook his head. “I can’t let you go, Kim,”
She stared at him, fear tightening her features. “You can’t let me go?” she whispered. “Are you going to kill me now? Now that I know your secret?”
“Jesus Christ.” Hollis groaned. “We’ve worked together for years, haven’t we?”
She nodded.