I find myself becoming fond of the investigator, Jack Darlington, almost immediately. I first meet him in the Alpha's hospital room, a couple of days before he's due to be discharged and sent home. I'd been sent to help Liam with the press the first time he came to see the Alpha and had missed him.The Alpha is in a private room, now that the danger has passed. He's just being kept for supervision for a few days, to make sure that everything is going as it should with his recovery. I spend almost all morning, every morning with him, and he's rapidly regaining his strength.Werewolves are fast healers – they sort of have to be, considering the changes their bodies go through when they transform into wolves and back. Safe in the hospital, away from the anxiety that he's about to be poisoned at any moment, the Alpha is able to relax and recover without stress.His body is taking advantage of the respite and repairing itself very well. The color in the Alpha's face has returned, and his e
"And after Dr. Prism approached you with her concerns, you decided to be solely responsible for delivering the Alpha's food, is that correct?" Jack asks, his pen poised over his notebook as he waits for a response."That's correct," Jenson says. "And I have been diligent in my duties, I can tell you that, sir. I truly have no idea how anything could have slipped past me.""Why don't you walk me through your protocols?" Jack suggests. Jenson bristles slightly, and Jack must notice it, too, because he adds: "I don't suspect you at all, Mr. Jenson. Nothing indicates to me that you were involved in this in any way."I just need to figure out how the culprit slipped by the protective measures that you, Dr. Prism, and Mrs. Potts set up. When we know the how, we can hopefully narrow down onto the who, if you see what I mean."Jenson looks mollified, and his expression turns from defensive to thoughtful."Well, Mrs. Potts prepares the Alpha's food and drink separately," he says. "And she neve
"I just don't understand," Charis Robinson says to her son over family dinner. "I know they said it was a heart attack, but I also heard that a private investigator has been at the mansion, asking questions.""Who told you that?" Charles asks, his fork freezing mid air. "I haven't heard anything about a private investigator. And I'd think I'd be the first to know."Charis shrugs. "I have friends in high places, too, you know.
"So, that's where we had to leave it," I finish, taking a sip of my tea. I'm sitting in Marcus's office, updating him on the results of the investigation. He's not behind his desk, but sitting in the armchair next to me in his little seating area in front of his fireplace.It's so cozy here. Of course, we don't have a fire lit – it's July in New England, after all. But the vibes are still so warm and soft. I could sit here every day of my life with Marcus, drinking tea and talking through our problems together.
Charles leans back in the seat of his car, silently stewing as his driver maneuvers around the streets to take him to the Hardy residence. He and Daisy are having dinner with Paul, Darlene, and Becki tonight, to discuss what the hell they're going to do next.Brodie was smart to get out while he did, Charles thinks grumpily as he watches the city lights zip past out the window. Becki's twin brother left for a study abroad program in France at the beginning of the summer, and Charles wonders if he'll ever even return.
Charles is getting more desperate than ever. Dillon refuses to pick up the hit Charles wants put out on his mother, all because he hasn't paid his debts. Yet! He hasn't paid them yet, and, goddamn it, none of them are getting paid unless Charles can get this situation under control.Infuriating how Dillon won't see that. Sometimes you have to take a little gamble, put the risk in beforehand to get the big reward at the end. Charles knows this. That's how Charles has gotten along his entire life, in fact. It's how he's gotten to the top.
I wouldn't allow Marcus to drive me home, despite his urging. Instead, we end up in his private apartment, where he's now pouring me a very large brandy and darting concerned glances over his shoulder at me.I'm trying to keep it together, but it's almost impossible. I loved Charis like a mother for most of my childhood; she was the person I was most distraught to lose when I went to prison and was cut off from the family.Her death is not only a devastating blow to me on a personal leve
At least we’re not at the same hospital I took the Alpha to, I think bleakly to myself as we pull up in front of the ER doors. The doctors would start to get suspicious of me. My god, how many more attempted murders am I going to have to handle?As a doctor, I’m of course used to seeing blood, pain, injury, even death. But it’s not usually people I care about, and it’s not usually because the person I used to trust most in the world is methodically trying to bump off half the people around him.