Chapter 127

Rachel POV

Tears fell from my eyes faster than rain from storm clouds. My breath came in short pants. I couldn't stop trembling.

No one wanted to look at me, not even Tyler who was letting me soak his shirt with my crying.

"What if he's right? What do I do if my mother is still alive?"

Tyler didn't answer me at first. I could tell he was putting thought into his response; I found I loved him more for his reluctance to rush into a pointless pacification. I wanted the truth as he saw it. I didn't need him to patronize me with words of comfort without meaning.

Tyler leaned his cheek against my head as he murmured, "I think the more important question would be: what do you want to do if your mother is still alive? How would your life change? You loved your mother very much. I believe she loved you and Ethan with all her heart. You're expecting our daughter now---can you imagine being able to introduce our daughter to your mother?"

I found I couldn't.

Too much of my life had revolved around the fact I had no mother for me to begin to see a life with her in it again. What would Elena Campbell be like if she'd been kept in captivity this whole time? Would she even be sane?

I remembered my mother as a wild woman who had danced under the moonlight, in the rain or the sunshine equally. She had felt larger than life. All I'd wanted was to grow up to be just like her. How could I imagine her trapped somewhere as a prisoner for years? Would she even be sane?

"What if she's insane? You know wolves can be driven mad in captivity. She was so alive, Tyler. I can't imagine her broken. Even when she was dying? She still had a glow to her. It came from inside her. Being around her was like getting close to the sun. If she's the same---I'd love to have her meet our daughter."

My hand went to my belly. I couldn't help touching her. She couldn't feel me, I knew it was too early for her to recognize an external touch. I couldn't stop myself all the same.

The elevator dinged as it arrived on our floor. I jerked from the sound of the doors opening, but only Nathan and Lindy emerged.

Would Patrick know something was going on as soon as he got a look at me? He'd have to be suspicious. I never called him for help. I'd learned my father wasn't to be relied on before I had hit middle school.

"You're going to have to work on your poker face," Art warned.

He moved from sprawling in the chairs across from me to sprawling in the empty seat at my other side.

"When Patrick gets here, just think about Ethan. Focus on Ethan. Nothing else. If you keep your mind on the fact your brother is hurt, Patrick will have no reason to believe you've brought him here for any other reason. You understand?"

I understood Art Windsor was going to make my father more than a little uncomfortable.

In addition to being the single largest wolf I'd ever met, Art was also capable of things I hadn't known wolves could do. His power was unmistakable; Patrick hated being around Alphas who embodied the Alpha gene at its best.

I'd always thought it was because he was jealous. Now? I wasn't sure of anything. Was Patrick really an omega? What did it mean for him to be an omega if he was so---evil?

"Evil doesn't come with a rank requirement."

Art caught my eyes as I glanced at him in shock. I would never get used to the idea of a wolf who could read minds. I had a feeling, from the look on Art's face, he knew he would never get used to it either.

The elevator dinged again and this time I knew it was Patrick without even looking.

His cologne preceded him out of the lift -a pungent musk I realized completely masked his natural scent- and he strutted into the waiting room with the kind of authority a wolf three times his size should have had.

Patrick was sleek, slim, and a little slimy from the oil he used to slick his hair back to the shiny shoes he polished every night.

I'd always taken him for granted. Patrick was simply Patrick: flashy and peacocking around while losing money faster than the Treasury could print it. How had I missed so much about the man who'd raised me? Looking at him now, I wondered how I could have ever thought he was my father at all.

"Where's Ethan?"

"They still have him in recovery. They got him stable, but he's touch-and-go. He lost a lot of blood and needed a transfusion. Art helped with that since there were---problems with their blood supply."

"And poison?" Patrick prompted, cutting his eyes to Art as if he could see right through the Alpha Inspector, "I heard Ethan was poisoned by the Lycan he took on. Have they purged it completely or are they working on it? What's his status?"

I nodded, "Yes. They have neutralized the poison. We think it came from the Lycan's claws. I don't know what kind it was or even if there's a name for it. I just know Ethan isn't waking up. Can you give blood?"

"Of course I can! I've never been more proud. My boy took on a Lycan and lived!"

Patrick crowed with the kind of pride one would expect from a father after hearing their son had done something amazing or fearless. I couldn't tell if he was faking or not. Knowing Patrick? He was probably already planning to talk Ethan into another Lycan fight he could rig the bets on.

"He's barely alive, Patrick."

I knew I shouldn't snap at him, but my nerves were strung too tight; I didn't want to let him think he could get away with anything.

"But he's alive! That's what matters."

"It's a shame his mother isn't. She might be more concerned about his healing. You do realize they have no idea if he'll wake up or not?"

I looked at Art with shock coloring my features. I thought we were supposed to be trying to be subtle about getting information out of Patrick! There were sledgehammers with a lighter touch than what he'd just used!

Patrick narrowed his dark eyes and it seemed they grew even darker as he sneered at Art, "I realize my omega son went up against a Lycan in a cage match and lived. His heart is still beating. He'll heal. He's a warrior."

"Even if he is an omega?" Art pressed.

"Especially because he's an omega," Patrick snapped, "Birth status isn't everything though I doubt you know what I mean. You've spent your whole life resting on being an Alpha, haven't you?"

"Alpha Inspector Art Windsor. I suppose you could say I have spent my life resting on being an Alpha. I can't exactly deny it, can I?"

Art stepped closer to Patrick, close enough to make it uncomfortable how much larger he was than my father. Patrick had to tilt his head back at an unnatural angle to keep his eyes on Art's face and his hands balled into telling fists at his sides.

It didn't take an expert in nonverbal communication to recognize Patrick was furious at being shown up.

"I suppose you can't. Is there a reason why the Alpha Council has an Inspector here for my son? Is Ethan being charged with a crime? I'm aware fighting is discouraged, but no one has mentioned anything about the fight being for another reason than sport only. Don't you need proof before you charge him with illegal gaming?"

Patrick knew more than he should about the law. I had always thought his knowledge came from trying to avoid being charged with a crime himself. Was it more because he wanted to play the game as a bigger fish? Was it possible Patrick arranged matches like the one Ethan had been injured in?

"I'm not charging Ethan with a crime at this time. Like you said: there is no proof the match wasn't a sporting event. Sporting events aren't illegal. Even if they're stupid, they're still not illegal."

"Stupid?" Patrick snapped.

"Stupid," Art repeated, smirking, "A Lycan versus an omega? Could you call this anything other than an exercise in stupidity? What did Ethan think was going to happen? He's lucky he's still breathing. My Alpha blood has kept him that way, too. You should thank me."

"Thank you. I'll be going downstairs to donate my mere omega blood in case yours isn't good enough to save my son's life completely."

Patrick turned on his heel to stalk back to the elevator and I sent a questioning look at Art who only shook his head 'no' once.

"Patrick!" I called, "Come back here a minute!"

Only he was already aboard the elevator and the doors were closing---I'd have to hope we could get him back.