A cure?
2153 Words
Jordan
I’m about to look for the douchebag from ‘Under Attack’ that pranks high-ranking shifters for his stupid online show. But no matter how hard I try, the beautiful woman doesn’t morph into a dude with a dad bod and a receding hairline. And no one jumps out from behind a pillar and yells: ‘Were you just under attack, or is it your paranoia? Learn more about the demons that hide in plain sight at www.under_attack.com’
“The people I applied with are looking for a way to extract your DNA.” I’m sure she means to sound patient, but it comes across as anything but. Her brows dipping lower with every millisecond I stare at her, not reacting.
“They aim for it to be rather painless, so they thought I might be a good fit.”
“Painless…. Ahh, yup, got it.” My ears heat up when it takes a very obvious hand gesture from her for me to catch on.
“Yeah…” ‘Red’s mouth screws into a tiny rosebud. “It took me some time, but after a few days, I … I figured out how they plan on using their findings.” Something flashes in her eyes, and I see her sit up straighter.
“In their 'sales pitch', they referred to it as looking for a cure to your ‘being a shifter,’— ” I can’t suppress the hysterical laugh any longer.
“A cure? Who would want to—
“— which is code for genocide.” Her matter-of-fact tone sends a slight shiver down my back. The deadly silence that follows stretches for what feels like decades.
My blood rushes in my ears, and instead of being itchy, my palms feel sweaty now. It takes me swallowing two or three times to get my tongue to move and not just stick to the roof of my mouth. So I can say something and hopefully drown out the now onsetting steady humming noise that takes over from the thunder in my ears.
“Why are you…? What— “ I interrupt myself, rubbing a hand over my face and averting my eyes for a second. What is this? My head is spinning, and I have no clue, even with all my training (however much I want to pretend like I didn’t spend hours every week with that boring turtle-like tutor), what I’m supposed to do now. What the appropriate way to react would be. And I really wish this was the ‘Million dollar’ show and I would get a telephone joker. Also, I might be watching too much late-night TV because this is the second time I’ve made a reference like this in the last 5 minutes.
My eyes dart over to the redhead. Is she some psycho who plans on harvesting my organs? When my gaze meets hers again, the look in her eyes is thoughtful… and a little warmer than it was until now.
“I didn’t take their position because I don’t believe eradicating either humans or shifters completely is a good option. And…” She blows out a breath, pulling down the sleeves of her almost see-through blouse. “And I don’t feel comfortable with them making me a pawn in their game. Against my will. I hate games.”
I stare at her for a long moment. Watching the muscles around her mouth work and the small hands fidget a little with the hem of her skirt.
“What do you mean? Make you a pawn?”
“I was supposed to be the one getting you to play the gig here, right?” When I nod, she continues. “And… I should have taken you into one of the private rooms to… get you off. Imagine my surprise when I decline and still see you walking through the door tonight. Kind of threatening, don’t you think?”
This sounds completely unbelievable. And absurd. SO F*CKING ABSURD! If it was just about getting someone to… collect a sample, they could have asked any girl I went into a dark room or some back alley with. This sounds like they targeted HER because they thought she had something she could bring to the table. I let my gaze move over her. Desperation, maybe… then again, it’s not my place to assume why exactly she works here. Maybe it’s a passion. Maybe she lives for body glitter.
But they knew there was something they could take from her. Companies and people like that are very good at figuring out what would make you agree to just about anything.
She didn’t, though. She turned them down. Or at least that’s what she says…
“Do you have an idea who suggested booking us tonight when you didn’t?”
The woman shakes her head. “No. I didn’t get the chance to ask Ruby, and none of the others I talked to knew.” And that seems to bother her. Her brows wrinkle, and her nostrils flare a tiny bit. Strangely endearing. Or it would be if I wasn’t trying to wrap my head around this macabre story.
It’s quiet for a while before the redhead lets out a huff. “I hate that they’re trying to force my hand. Them sending you here… it feels like a threat.” She repeats. Her voice goes up in anger at the end. “I don’t do well with people trying to force me.” A glint passes in her eyes, and I feel sorry for whoever tried to force this woman to do anything. But something sores in my chest at the thought of repercussions for her. Never.
“So, how do you want to go about this now?” I fold my hands in my lap. Do I have a choice other than to play into this? Until I can verify anything she said, I will have to pretend I believe her to… get her to continue talking to me. Maybe then it will all make sense.
“I’m sure if… this is their doing, they will be expecting a status report of some sort. Or do you think someone else here is working for them?”
“Could be. I think staying and keeping an eye out for anyone trying to get close and not taking no for an answer is your best option—
“Someone other than you.” She sneers at me, interrupting her, but I can’t help it. I want to see the cute little nostril flare again.
“I was asked to obtain samples of semen, blood, and saliva. So maybe no blow jobs and bite-heavy make-out sessions from now on.” I choke on air at her businesslike tone. Given her demeanor, you could think we are discussing last week’s weather or the Baltimore Oriol’s latest stats.
“You can verify everything I said, of course. You have every right to. Maybe your family can help you with that.” She shrugs. “I didn’t read the whole file, but they seem well connected. … maybe do it so it can’t be traced back to me? I’m pretty sure if I ignore their attempts to get in touch with me after tonight, AND they find someone looking into them, I’ll be the literal sitting pregnant duck.”
I take a moment to ponder this, and she must have drifted deeper into thought as well because I hear her mumble under her breath. “Tsss seduce people. That has f**k all to do with actual research in this field.”
The redhead's brows furrow again. “That’s the other sad thing, you know?” Her gaze lifts to meet mine again, and I feel a shiver go down my spine at the intensity in her eyes.
“And maybe that sounds selfish, given what they have planned for your kind, but I thought I found like-minded people. That I would get to work with great scientists and have a real chance in my field of choice… When all they wanted was for me to continue shaking my a** for money.” She grits her teeth for a moment.
“Don’t get me wrong: I love what I do and know I have a great a**. But f*ck, I sure as hell do it because I WANT TO. Not because some old man in a corner office decided I’m not ‘good enough’ for more than that. I can do more.” She blows out a breath, and when the tiny hairs around her face fly a little, swaying in the dim light, they have a strange plastic glow to them.
“Anyhow.” The redhead straightens in her chair again as if to shake off that little bit of vulnerability she just showed me. And I can’t say I like it. Looking at the wall clock for a moment, she gets up.
“For something at the scale we are talking about with Stiltzer, evidence will be hard to find, but it must be there.” She seems in thought for a moment. “Contact me if I can help in any other way.”
“How—“
“You will figure it out.” Her tone is a mixture of dismissive and sultry, and she rounds it out with a wink. For some reason, that doesn’t seem supported by the pull-down of her expressive brows and the fright I’m sure I saw passing in her eyes for a moment.
Her back goes almost rigid. “We don’t have much more time. They might have eyes and ears in this place, so even if I gave you a lap dance in here to make them believe I was on board after all, it wouldn’t have taken me that long to get that sample.” My ears heat again at her gaze, flitting down my torso for a moment, and I suppress the urge to flex my chest and biceps. What is happening today?
She moves toward the door slowly, her eyes fixing on mine again for a little longer. “I… really hope this helps.” And then quieter. “I don’t want to regret it.”
Before I can respond, she’s gone, and I let myself sink back into the thickly upholstered chair. F**K.
Never in my life has there been a conversation where I had this little to say. My head is reeling. I know I will see her again. I have to… even if it’s only to ensure she’s fine after tonight. And she said I could get in touch with her if—
Shaking my head, I flex my fingers, which usually calms me down but doesn’t work today. One thing after the other. Information. First, I need to verify what she said. She might be pretty, but that doesn’t mean she couldn’t be a total lunatic. I mean, seriously, who corners people like that?
Knowing my uncles and Khai, they can dig up something in less than 24 hours, so a day or two would be generous, wouldn’t it? Should I wait that long? I don’t even know her name. F*CK, no. Stop it, Jordan. Clear head. We need a clear head, not you thinking with your d*ck.
‘I could just ask her boss for it. No idea what I’m going to say or why I need to get in touch with her, though.’
I let out a laugh. So much for not thinking with my d*ck. But I can’t shake the nagging voice in the back of my head as I get up and leave the private room. Rather memorable blood moon even without finding my mate.
“F**k, now I kind of wish it was just her telling me I knocked her up.”, I mutter under my breath.
For the past year since the incident at that gala, I have again taken a back seat regarding anything related to my family's business.
I focus on my music as I did before then. Luca is the one doing his Law degree and following our Dad around. He’s involved with everything Uncle Theo and Zeke come up with. And now this stern, slender redhead is thrusting me in the middle of the action. No idea if I will let her. Something pushes me to, though. Makes me feel obligated. But once you have built a wall so thick against what you think you're incapable of doing, it’s hard to move past without an incentive.
I have built that wall a long time ago. I think ALL THIS is something I’m not good at. One may see that as a character flaw, but I don’t like to do things if I don’t know that I will be good at them. Rather let someone else do it. But that’s not an option this time.
- Writer
