“He has access to everything but Hopeworth. That is a law unto itself.”
Sam snorted. “I’m thinking that’s not exactly wise.”
Gabriel grimaced. “The military would argue that, given the sensitive nature of much of their research, it is a necessity.”
“So, if Stephan has access to all but Hopeworth, why haven’t you got the rest of it?”
“Because Stephan is currently home with Lyssa and his new son.”
“Lyssa’s had her kid? Hey, send her and Stephan my congrats! What did they name him?”
“Devyn Charles Oswald Stern.”
She blinked. “That’s one hell of a moniker for a little kid to carry.”
Gabriel grinned. “He’s the first grandson, so he was destined to carry the first name of both grandfathers. It’s something of a tradition.”
“And a nice one. The past is never forgotten that way.” There was sudden sympathy in his expression and she knew he was thinking about her lack of a past. Given that she didn’t particularly want to dwell on the reasons for that right now, she rushed on before he could say anything. “She didn’t have any problems, then?”
“Not as many as we expected. She’s had a bad pregnancy and isn’t strong—as you know, because you’ve met her—and it was an extremely long birth. But she’s fine. Tired, but fine.”
What she knew was that Lyssa was stronger than her family was giving her credit for. She had met the woman, and beneath that pale, frail build was a steely determination that was breathtaking. Anyone who could handle being kidnapped and isolated for six months and still come out of it sane could certainly cope with anything else life threw at her.
“So has the proud uncle been to see the newest addition to the family yet?”
He hesitated, and darkness flashed through his eyes. “Not yet.”
“Why not?”
“Because sometimes there are things more important than family.”
“Nothing is more important than family.” Says the woman who hasn’t got one, she thought with resignation.
“Some things are.”
And the brief glance he gave her made her pulse skip, then race. Did that glance imply what she thought it implied? Or were her overactive hormones making her read far too much into it?
“Like what?” she asked, as casually as she could.
“Like stopping a madman intent on starting a war.”
Amusement and perhaps a touch of disappointment ran through her. So much for her fantasies, she thought wryly. “So, you still think Wetherton has connections to Sethanon?”
“Do I believe it? Yes. Do I have any proof? No. Other than the body of the real Wetherton, and the fact that Sethanon was behind the attempt to replace the Prime Minister with a clone, that is.”
“And Wetherton’s connections to Hopeworth?”
“Could be a means for Sethanon to keep track of what is going on in there. Or maybe Wetherton is merely the go-between for Sethanon and his military source.”
She raised her eyebrows at that. “You think Blaine is working for Sethanon?”
“It’s not beyond the bounds of reason. I certainly don’t think it’s a coincidence that it was Blaine’s image the multi-shifter used.”
“Why?”
“Multi-shifters need to come in constant contact with someone to take that person’s shape. It takes a little time for cells to reconfigure, and the longer the contact, the more exact the image.”
“Really? Does it work the same for shapechangers? Or shapeshifters?”