Page 52 of Black Bird

“Just that the bastard wants the information. Something medical. Other than that, nothing.”

Athan stood, turning toward a glass set of shelves and stepping toward it, looking over the titles of bullshit books that lined them. He doubted they were even real books, and probably just there for decoration. What a disgrace. “Sarah’s mother died from some kind of virus that nobody had ever identified before. The government has done a lot to cover it up. Even Sarah doesn’t know what it is. They cremated her without Sarah’s consent and sealed off the documents. If Conrad wants that information, there’s a reason for it.”

“So, St. James is a lab rat. The only trace left of whatever they’re after.”

Athan hummed his confirmation and toyed with a small abstract statue. “She’s healing faster than anyone would have expected. Says she doesn’t often get sick. She also told us she was pretty positive somebody had taken her one night to some medical facility and experimented on her before dumping her back in her bed. Of course, we can’t prove any of that. If it was the government’s doing, then those files are gonna be locked up, too.”

“This is insane. I feel like I’m trapped in a bad movie.”

Athan turned back to face him and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’m sure she feels that way too, Nick.” Specter flushed pink with shame and nodded as he hung his head.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked, genuinely.

“Watch her. Call me if you see anything suspicious. If that piece of shit comes back to your office, or contacts you, I need to know about it.And don’t let him get anywhere near her, you understand?” Athan flashed him a look that had the CEO paling.

“I got you, man. I’m sorry … for what it’s worth.”

“Just because I’m not human, doesn’t mean I don’t remember what it’s like, Specter. Just look out for her.Please.”

Athan turned on his heel and didn’t look back at Nick as he opened the door and stepped through it. Kerah tensed as he walked past, and he jerked his head toward her in farewell as he trudged to the elevator. His phone dinged as the doors opened and he pulled it out. Sarah sent him a picture of her in her goggles and cap. Something tightened in his chest, and he immediately saved it to his phone. As the elevator lowered, he typed her a reply. He debated on sending it, unsure of what kind of invitation he’d be sending with it.

Too late.

Me: … saving this … it’s gonna be your contact photo.

He pocketed the phone and made his way through the main lobby, nearly reaching the entrance when it went off again.

Sarah: people usually only store a contact if it’s someone they’re fairly fond of … if you’re saving mine, I think it’s only fair that I get one too

Exactly the reason he shouldn’t have sent anything … but again, that issue of his self-control …

Me: didn’t the newspapers give you enough photos of me?

She’d probably have his ass for that jab, but he smiled and kept walking toward the parking lot.

Ding.

Sarah: oh, you’re giving me one … or I’ll be taking it by force.

Something fluttered in his gut with that one. It’d be the biggest lie he’d ever told if he said it didn’t excite him to think of the ways she could force it out of him.

Me: I look forward to it.

The three little dots danced above the keyboard, and he paused, smiling to himself.

Sarah: … you’re gonna regret that remark. just wait until you see the wig I’m gonna put on you. ;)

“Psycho …” He grinned, sliding the phone into his pocket, and hauling a leg over his bike.

It had been a long drive. Longer than the usual thirty minutes it normally took to get there with how many times Rhaena had to stop or pull over to gather herself. Her heart was pounding so hard in her heaving chest that she was sure it would fail her this time. She tried to remind herself that she thought that every month, especially during the daylight hours that she spent preparing herself for the absolute agony that would come after the sun set. The expanding of her bones, the splintering pain that racked through her, the excruciating ache of her skull as it molded itself into a monster. Rivulets of sweat poured down every inch of her as she panted in the innermost closet of the cabin. Athan had followed behind her on his motorcycle this afternoon, offering any relief he could every time she stopped her truck. They only had two hours left until dusk and every second seemed more agonizing than the last.

“You ready?” he asked, kneeling in front of her. Rhaena looked over her leggings and the sports bra she cared the least about and nodded breathlessly as she tied her hair in a knot atop her dripping head.

“There’s gotta be a way …” She huffed, fighting through her inability to get a deep enough breath. “After all these years, there has to be some way to either stop this or slow it down. I don’t wanna do this anymore, Athan.” She held as still as she could manage as he started chaining up her ankles.

“I had a thought, but I’ve never asked about it. It’s probably stupid. Most likely part of the old myth, but …” He jerked on the chain on her left foot, testing its security.

“What? Tell me,” she begged, turning up a plastic gallon jug of water.

---