Jennifer Armentrout - Onyx

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What’s going on with you two, then?”

“Nothing.” I sighed.

She sucked on her lollipop for a few moments as she watched me. “And nothing is going on with my brother. Right? He’s just slinking around the house for no reason.”

My lips pursed. “Dee…”

“He’s my brother, Katy. I love him. And you’re my best friend, even though you haven’t really acted like it recently.” She flashed a quick grin before continuing. “So I feel like I’m stuck in the middle of you two. And I know neither of you is putting me there, but I want…both of you happy.”

Wondering how we ended up on this conversation, I sat down with a sigh. “Dee, it’s really complicated.”

“It can’t be that complicated,” she replied, sounding like Lesa. “You guys like each other, and I know Daemon would be risking a lot by pursuing a relationship with you, but that’s his risk to take.” Dee sat beside me, her body humming with energy. “Anyway, I think you guys need to talk or…I don’t know. Cave to your passions.”

I busted out laughing. “Oh my God, are you serious?”

She grinned. “So are you going to go with us tomorrow night?”

As much as I wanted to see the Thompsons’ house, because I bet it was super posh and cool, I was still undecided. “I’ll think about it.”

“You promise?” She nudged me with her elbow. “It would make me really happy if you did.”

Partying with them did sound better than what I had planned, which was nothing. Dee stayed for a little while, borrowing a couple of books, and then left. Then, around suppertime, Will showed up with Chinese takeout. I didn’t turn the food down, but I wasn’t much for conversation. Mom practically floated around the kitchen, buzzing on a good-boyfriend high.

When they left, I spent the rest of the evening reading, finishing a book for a blog tour, and starting a new one I wasn’t scheduled to read. Having time to read was nice and relaxing. I could feel a little bit of my old self creeping back. Not the timid Katy, but the one who did what she wanted because she enjoyed it.

When it got close to ten, I put the book down and considered checking in with Daemon. Was he going back to that warehouse without me? There was a good chance he was. Trying to distract myself, I logged into one of the local news websites and searched for any mention of the two officers going missing. I’d checked each night with no results.

But tonight was different.

The headline on the Charleston Gazette read:

two department of defense officers missing after last seen near petersburg.

My breath caught as I scanned the article. Officer Robert McConnell and Officer James Richardson were last seen near Petersburg on December 26th and have not been heard from since. Authorities are not saying the nature of their dealings in Grant County but are asking anyone who may have seen the officers or may know anything to please contact their tip line .

Below the article were two pictures. I recognized them immediately. Clicking off the webpage, I immediately brought up a new web search screen. First, I Googled Nancy Husher and came up with nothing. Smoker had mentioned her by last name, saying she wouldn’t be mad if I wasn’t…messed up.

I shuddered.

I’d thought there’d at least be something in relation to the DOD, but it wasn’t like the woman existed on the Internet. My next search victim was my mom’s boyfriend. There were quite a few sites linking to numerous awards won in the medical community, but nothing showing a connection to Bethany.

But there was something that left a bad taste in my mouth about him.

One article’s headline read:

local doctor overcomes leukemia, backs funding for new cancer treatment center in grant county.

My eyes scanned the article. It was Will. There was a picture of him, most likely taken during rounds of treatment, because I recognized that bone-haggard look.

I couldn’t believe it. Did Mom know this? I mean, cancer wasn’t a reason not to date someone, but after everything she went through with Dad? Could she go through something like that again if the cancer came back?

And if I actually grew to like the dude, if he wasn’t an implant, could I deal with that again? I went back to the search page, unable to wrap my brain around this new fact.

Stopping to grab a cup of cocoa, I returned to my amateurish investigation. My fingers hovered over the keyboard while a sense of guilt flushed my cheeks. Then, with a cringe, I Googled Blake Saunders, telling myself I only wanted to see his old blog, since he never did tell me its name.

The first searches linked to some college athlete, but down toward the bottom of the first page, I saw a news report about his parents’ murders. Clicking on the link, I read the sad, sad write-up on the deaths of his parents and sister. It was called a brutal break-in.

There were a couple more articles stating the same, and then I found the obituary for his parents, which took me to a funeral home site in Santa Monica. Sunny Acres. Who in the hell named a funeral home Sunny Acres? Shaking my head, I took a sip of my cocoa and clicked the pictures the website had of the family. The younger Blake was cute, and so was his sister. My gut clenched when I looked at the pictures of him and his little sister playing on a swing set. The kid was way too young, and her death was probably horrific. I blinked back hot tears, moved by someone I’d never even met. It just wasn’t fair or right. Death usually was never those two things but this…this was wrong.

I kept going through the pictures, stopping on an older one of Blake’s father. I could see the resemblance in the easy smile and hazel eyes. The man next to his father looked oddly familiar. He shared some of the same features as Blake’s dad, but his face was rounder. Some of the pictures had captions below, but this one didn’t. I went through the next couple of pictures greedily, and then I stopped on one that looked like a family reunion taken around the holidays.

Leaning closer, I set the cup down before I dropped it. A sharp pang sliced my breath as I got a real good look at the guy who’d been in the picture with Blake’s father.

The man had his hand clamped on the younger Blake’s shoulder and was smiling at the camera from beneath a wiry, light brown mustache. The caption below listed him as Brian Vaughn.

Thoughts warred in my head as I quickly clicked on the obituary again, skimming for surviving family members. Brian Vaughn was listed as a stepbrother of the deceased—of Blake’s dad.

My surprised laugh came out strangled, and I stood, looking around the room expectantly, although I wasn’t sure what I was looking for. Shock beat at me, struggling to keep the rising tide of anger at bay.

Blake was related to a DOD officer.

How…coincidental.

I started to pace the length of the living room, my breath coming out harsh and fast. The illogical part of my brain was trying to convince myself that it was just a coincidence, that it was another Brian Vaughn who looked like the DOD officer. But the harsh reality of being fooled…of allowing myself to be played right into the DOD’s hands beat at me.

His relation to the DOD explained how Blake knew so much about the Luxen and mutated humans. Why he’d asked so many times about who had healed me. How reckless and dangerous he’d grown in his training sessions. I didn’t even know where Blake lived.

But I knew where Vaughn lived.

I stopped myself before I reached for my car keys. There was no way I was going to Vaughn’s house. What would I do? Bust up in there? That was worse than Daemon’s typical plans.

Torn between wanting to talk to Daemon and letting the issue drop until I knew what I was dealing with, I sat back and pulled my knees to my chest. Could I have been fooled this badly? This entire time working with someone who was tied to the DOD?