A dull flush crept up Boileau’s neck from beneath his shirt. “May I remind you that it’s your duty—”
“My duty is to keep the peace, not help you poke your nose into something bigger than you can begin to imagine.”
“If that something is a matter of national security,” he spat back, “then it goddamned well is your duty to help me poke my nose into it.”
Her fingers twisted into the coat’s fabric. The urge to fold inward and collapse onto the floor beckoned. How much easier it would be to let the doctors take over. Let them give her the sedative they’d offered, let herself slip away from Boileau and the stench of blood and burnt flesh that clung to her skin and hair. Easier . . .
And with Michael’s words about choice sitting heavy on her conscience, equally impossible.
She shook her head, as much at herself as Boileau, and then scooped up the mangled remains of her cell phone from the counter. “I’ve told you everything I can about the explosion and the Neph—the babies that are going to be born,” she said. “And now I’m going to my hotel room, and I’m going to try very hard to sleep. In the morning, I’m going home as planned. I will assist—long-distance—with any security plan you put together that focuses on humans. Beyond that, you’re on your own.”
Especially where your testing of the Nephilim children is concerned.
Boileau put a hand on the door to hold it closed. “I could have you seconded to the task force here.”
“You could. And I could refuse to comply. And we could go back and forth through disciplinary committees and hearings and waste a whole lot of everyone’s time while the situation just keeps getting worse. The choice is yours.” Hell. Now she was starting to sound like Michael. “I get that you’re worried, but this, the part you’re most concerned about? Let it go. It’s bigger than you are. Bigger than all of us. Focus on keeping our own world glued together. That’s how we’ll survive.”
Boileau stared at her through his glasses.
“You know more than you’ve told us, don’t you?”
“I know things no one should ever have to know. Trust me when I say you wouldn’t want to be me.”
“Not even if it meant I could walk away, virtually unscathed, from an explosion no one else anywhere near me survived?”
She froze, her hand on the doorknob.
“One of the news crews caught you on tape,” Boileau said quietly. “You’re being replayed every fifteen minutes across the entire country. Right alongside footage from the two latest earthquakes and the volcanic eruption.”
Alex rested her forehead against the door frame. From out in the corridor came the muffled squeak of wheels rolling by. The news? Christ Almighty, how much had they caught? Had they seen Aramael? Seen her collapse? Watched him lift her from the grass and heal the more serious wounds he hadn’t been able to protect her from?
Boileau’s voice persisted. “That fireball rolled thirty feet past you, Detective. It incinerated everything in its path. They’re still picking bits out of the grass. People on the opposite side of the podium were injured, some critically. And yet here you are. Walking out of the hospital with—what—a couple of dozen stitches? How is that possible?”
Alex waited for her stomach to stop churning at the reminder of the gore she’d witnessed, then she turned. Crossing her arms, she leaned against the door. “We both know it’s not possible,” she said. “So you might as well get to the point.”
Boileau rubbed a hand over the bald spot on his head and glowered at her. “I have the best interests of this country at heart, Detective Jarvis. I’m not sure the same can be said of you. Give me one good reason I shouldn’t have you detained.”
“I’ll give you two. One, because you’re wrong about what you’re thinking. You can test my DNA all you like; I’m as human as you or anyone else. And two, because this isn’t about the best interests of this country. It’s about the survival of humanity.”
Before Boileau could respond or she could reach again for the door knob, the door swung inward and a nurse held out a cell phone to her.
“A Staff Inspector Roberts for you,” the nurse said.
Alex shoved the destroyed phone she clutched into the pocket of her borrowed coat. She took the one from the nurse.
“You can return it to the triage desk when you’re done,” said the woman. She stepped out of the room again. Turning her back on Boileau, Alex put the phone to her ear. “Hey, Staff,” she said.
“Is Trent with you?” Roberts’s voice demanded without preamble.
She raised an eyebrow. “I’m fine, thank you.”
“I’m serious, Alex. Where is Trent?”
“He’s in the waiting room outside emergency. I was on my way there now. What’s going on?”
“Just get to him. Tell me when you’re there.”
Something very small and cold took root in her center. “Staff—”
“Now, Detective. That’s an order.”
Without another word, she left the examining room, hurried down the corridor, and pushed through the doors into the waiting area. Was it just her, or was this getting to be a habit? She searched the room for Aramael, and in an extension of her déjà vu moment, located him beside the exit doors. He raised an eyebrow as she joined him. Roberts, she mouthed.
“He’s right in front of me,” she told her supervisor. “Now what’s going on?”
“Your sister’s been taken to the hospital, Alex. She’s unconscious. They’re doing a CT scan now.”
In an instant, the world narrowed to the phone in her hand and the row of buttons on Aramael’s shirt. Jen.
“Alex.” Roberts’s voice turned sharp. “Don’t you dare pass out on me.”
“I’m okay,” she said. Breathe in. Breathe out. “What happened? An accident? Was Nina with her?”
“Her house was broken into. The incident report says home invasion.”
Even through the chaos in her brain, his phrasing caught her attention.
“The incident report says,” she echoed. “What does that mean?”
“Her door was broken in. Frame, hinges, and all. No explosion, no other signs of damage, nothing.”
The cold in her center began a slow, sinuous uncoiling. “Nina. Where is Nina?”
“They found her backpack. And her coat.”
But not her. Not Nina. The world tipped out from beneath Alex’s feet. Iron hands clamped around her arms and steered her toward a chair, pushed her down. It took three tries for her to fill her lungs.
“When?” she croaked. When did it happen? How long has she been missing?
“We’re trying to determine that now. The 911 call came in at five thirty. If Nina was in school today, then it would have been between then and the time she got home.”
“Who called it in? Did they see anything?”
“One of the neighbors noticed the door coming home from work and found your sister inside. That’s all we have for now. Dr. Riley is staying with Jennifer at the hospital. She’ll call me with the results of the scan. I’m heading over to the house now.”
She nodded. Remembered he couldn’t see her. Made herself find words. “I’ll catch the first flight out that I—”
Aramael plucked the phone from her hand. He held up a finger to ward off her fierce objection. “It’s Trent,” he said to Roberts. “How long does it take to get from the airport to Jennifer’s house?” He listened a moment, then said, “She’ll see you then.”