Page 90 of Twisted Shadows
Jamey’s lips tightened. “You’ve been to this Polaris facility before?”
Aisha nodded. “I try to go a couple times a year to check on the empaths.”
“Even though they’re all corrupted?”
Aisha ran a hand over the scar on her neck. “Yeah.” She cleared her throat. “I haven’t been up since Cora Falcon was admitted. I can call for a company ride over without anyone blinking; there’s a satellite office here with a helicopter on call.” She made a face. “Getting you in might be a little trickier. Security is—well. What you’d expect from a prison for sadistic superhuman killers. I can’t just add you to the guest list, and breaking in would take planning, or an army.”
Jamey frowned. “In theory this should be nothing but a quick visit for you, everything in order, right?” she said. “Except we’re missing an empath who’s supposedly lying dead in Burlington, Vermont. And I don’t really want to let you go alone.”
Aisha bumped her with her shoulder. “Look at you. You’re like the extra badass version of the friend who makes you text that you got home safe.”
“Shut up,” Jamey said good-naturedly. She took another sip of her coffee, gaze still on the mountains. “Can you show me on a map where the facility is? And where we could, in theory, land a floatplane without being seen?”
Aisha nodded.
“Then Liam and I can be our own ride,” Jamey said. “And if it turns out you do need me, I can also be the army.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
...as the debates around the Empath Initiative heat up in Washington, many have opinions about the purpose and future of the nascent agency.
“It’s simply good policy to be sure that our empath policies will first and foremost protect those of us without empathy,” said defense contractor Charles Stone. “After all, the best defense is a good offense.”
Mr. Stone’s son, Cedrick, recently received a large government grant for empathy-related research and development.
—EXCERPT FROM A TWENTY-FIVE-YEAR-OLD ISSUE OFTHE EMERALD CITY TRIBUNE,“NO END TO DEBATES SURROUNDING EMPATH AGENCY”
Gretel pulled herBMW into the Stone Solutions parking lot, a good distance from the edge of the police tape marking off the front doors. There were cruisers everywhere, along with a fire truck, an ambulance, and a black armored car that might have been a SWAT team.
No news crews. Obviously they’d be trying to keep this quiet—on the heels of an empath breaking in and the questionable involvement of Cedrick Stone in a senator’s death, it didn’t bode well for public opinion if Stone Solutions couldn’t keep out an arsonist.
She stared at the building up ahead. From what she could see, the fires seemed to have been put out, but how much research had been lost? Product destroyed?
She scanned the area beyond the yellow tape. The SPD public relations front man, Liam Lee, her go-to source for information, was usually on-site and easy to spot in the sea of navy and black in his preferred camel coat. Today, though, he didn’t seem to be here. At least she had his number; maybe he’d have a statement for her.
He was also dating Reece Davies’ sister, Briony St. James, formerly a detective with the SPD. Gretel had initially started following Detective St. James’ career thanks to her dad’s ranting about the SPD having an empath’s sibling on the force, but you couldn’t read about all the amazing, almost superhuman things St. James had done and not wind up her fangirl.
Maybe Liam would also loop in Detective St. James to figure out what the hell was going on.
She eyed the SWAT team’s armored car for a long moment and then picked up her phone and looked at her messages again, at the text from Alex: a picture of Officer Stensby and a big blond man in a camouflage coat, the one she’d seen Stensby with at AMI meetings. The two men were standing next to the door of an office with a giant plaque that readCedrick Stone, CEO.
Alex: I did promise you a story.
The car show had been easy to find online, and was taking place at the convention center. Reece and Grayson navigated downtown from their hotel, the buildings getting taller and the traffic bumper-to-bumper with morning commuters.
“Stone Solutions Canada’s offices are around here too,” Reece pointed out, as Grayson took them down a narrow street between towering glass high-rises. “I suppose they don’t put theirProtecting American Mindsmotto on their Canadian offices.”
“They don’t,” said Grayson, as they idled at a red light. “But be glad we’re checking on Mr. Lane first, because you’re still gonna find Stone Solutions Canada plenty annoying.”
“Of course the empath hunter already knows that.”
“Empathspecialist,” said Grayson. “But I’m warning you because I do need you to remember what being undercover in Canada means.”
Reece furrowed his brow. People were rushing by on the crosswalks, bundled in coats, their gazes on their phones. “You don’t want anyone to know you’re the Dead Man?”
“That’s part of it,” said Grayson. “But more importantly, even if people did know who I was, I don’t have the operational exemptions here that I have in America. The Empath Initiative has no reach here and I don’t have the right to preempt any Canadian jurisdictions.”
“So?”
