Page 55 of From the Noblest Motives
"Brilliant! Of course, since enforcement's more likely to shield him. But the press hounds will go into a feeding frenzy. Just brilliant."Stupid of me, though. I'd certainly never go to enforcement, and these kids shouldn't go anywhere near them, either.
"I hoped you'd approve," Cyril said with that eye-crinkled smile, though the smile faded when Shudder turned to him. "You still look so tired, Shudder. Headachy, it looks like."
As soon as Cyril said it, Shudder realized that hedidfeel tired, and a dull pain had started to gather along the top of his skull. He should've been paying better attention. "Erg. Yes. Sorry, everyone. I guess it's going to hit me out of the blue like this for a smidge, still. Concussions aren't fun at all. But thank you, thank you for showing me your work. It's been wonderful."
The kids all beamed at him and called out wishes for his recovery as Damien helped him up and out of the underground lair, though not before shooting what Shudder thought was A Very Odd Look at his father.
"All right?" Damien asked softly as they made their way back to the house.
"I will be. I'm sorry. You probably wanted to ask more questions. I thought I was doing better today."
"You did seem to be."
Shudder might have imagined it, but there seemed a world of speculation and wariness in those words.It's Damien, though, who thinks in possibilities. Could be anything. And I'm too tired to ask him.
Whatever Damien was puzzling over couldn't have been too serious. Instead of going off to investigate, he climbed into bed with Shudder and took up the big-spoon role. If there was a nicer way to take a nap, he couldn't think of it right then.
At first,Blaze just wanted to get out of the house. Listening devices could've been anywhere. Then, he thought he should get away from the compound, since any telephony connection from there was probably bugged, too, so he drove his truck back out to the highway, where he could get a clear satnet signal.
Sitting in his truck, about to make the call, the thought occurred to him that his truck might also have listening devices planted in it. With muttered imprecations about Damien's natural paranoia and Cyril's weirdness getting to him, Blaze finally climbed out of the truck and hiked a hundred yards into the nearest field.
"If you're still listening, Cyril Fucking Hazelwood, more power to you," Blaze growled as he hit the number for Dr. Parma's secure line.
It buzzed for almost a minute before she answered, presumably to give her time to move to a secure location. "Damien? Are you—oh. Hello, Blaze."
"Hey, Doc. Sorry for hijacking your private line."
"Quite all right. I knew if Damien had access, so would you. I don't hear explosions or gunfire. Do you need me to send a team?"
"Nothing that serious."Yet. "We've landed with the man who claims to be Damien's dad."
"Cyril?" Dr. Parma sucked in a breath. "After all this time?"
"Yeah, kinda what Damien said, too." Blaze sent her a photo he'd snuck at breakfast. "But you sound like you knew him. This guy? He's Cyril?"
Dr. Parma regarded the photo with a frown. "No. That's Max Noisette. He's a Guild contractor. Does genetic… Wait. This is the photo I have of Cyril from all those years ago."
Blaze felt his eyebrows climbing his forehead as Dr. Parma tapped on something offscreen. A second photo popped up beside the one Blaze had provided. This one showed a young man with a bird's nest of a beard and long, scraggly hair. Rail thin, he wore glasses and an expression so intense Blaze was tempted to call it fanatical. He tipped his head to the side, regarding both faces.
"They're the same person," Blaze finally said. "It's damn hard to see it, but it's him."
"I've been so blind," Dr. Parma whispered. "And he wasn't even subtle about it. Noisette… Hazelnut in French."
"Bastard thinks he's funny." Blaze huffed out a breath. "It's how he keeps his fingers in the pie, though. At least with the Guild."
"I think you'd better tell me what's happened. This is an unsettling discovery, to say the least."
"Okay, so going back to when you found that holo of Damien's mom."
"That's what I'd surmised. Cyril contacted Damien directly after that, didn't he?"
Blaze took a moment to gather events in order, then told her nearly everything that had happened since that morning in her kitchen. He left Meemaw Sekhet out of it except as a vague reference to local assistance. Did he trust Dr. Parma? Hell, yes. But it felt wrong to disclose where Meemaw Sekhet's place was, no matter whom he was telling.
"It's been what Shudder needed," Blaze concluded. "Safe. Quiet. Healer in residence. But it's a weird place, Doc. Makes me jumpy."
"You feel you're being watched."
"Listened to, anyway." Blaze rubbed at his forehead. "But yeah. Definite feeling of surveillance. The kids seem happy, but Damien's not convinced. And I'm not great with them not contacting their parents. That's fucked up. And the moms to be. Something weird going on there, too. Who are they hiding from? And why's Cyril the one they ran to?"
