Chapter 128

Rachel POV

"Should we go after him?"

Art shook his head, "No. He'll be back. Pride will drive him back up here even if he doesn't give a shit about your brother."

"Did you learn anything? Did he think of Elena?" Tyler demanded, "You took a huge risk hitting him straight on the way you did. He could have taken offense or used a hurt ego as an excuse to leave."

Art gritted his teeth for a moment and I caught a glimpse of the monster he had to keep on a leash inside.

"We don't have time to baby him or bandy around with subtle digs. I need him off-balance. The best way to do that? A good, strong offense. If I come at him, he'll just chalk it up to my ego as an Alpha and as a representative of the Alpha Council."

Art wasn't wrong.

My initial impression of him had been based solely on what I thought I knew of the Alpha Council and their officers. Art was a long way from the rumors which went around. He was a long way from any Alpha I had ever met.

"Did you get anything?" I pressed, trying to refocus his attention and Tyler's off one another.

We didn't have time to have an Alpha fight either.

Patrick could be faking going down to donate blood. For all I knew, he'd taken the elevator down a floor then used the stairs to come back up and linger outside the waiting room, eavesdropping on us all the while.

"No. Not exactly," Art corrected, shoving his hand through his hair in what I was beginning to learn was a nervous tick, "He thought of Elena for a moment. All I saw was her face. Sun shining on her. She looked tired. I couldn't tell how old she was or when the memory came from or even where she was beyond standing in front of a window."

Patrick thought of my mother.

Tears fell from my eyes again as emotions overwhelmed me. I held a hand up to ward off Tyler from reaching for me. I didn't need his strength at the moment. I just needed to get myself under control.

"No, I'm fine. I just didn't think he'd really get caught thinking about her. How clear was the memory?"

"Very. It didn't feel old. It felt new."

I was beginning to realize the possibility of my mother's survival was more real than I had thought. What would I do if my mother was proven to be alive? What would it mean for me? For Ethan? For Lindy?

I looked at the woman clutching at Nathan and noted she was crying, too. I wasn't surprised by her tears. Lindy seemed to be an emotional creature either by nature or nurture. Her family life had been as hard as mine, hadn't it? What would she do if she was put face-to-face with Elena Campbell?

"Are you okay, Lindy?"

"She's fine," Nathan stated firmly, "We need to figure out what we can say to get Patrick off-balance. Should you ask him if Ethan could have inherited your mother's Alpha status? He's proud of his omega son surviving against a Lycan."

"He should be," Art snorted, "I'm surprised Ethan survived. Moon Goddess wept, I would be impressed if you survived against a fully grown Lycan with poisoned claws and I've seen you in your Lycan form."

I didn't want to think about Nathan as a Lycan. I didn't want to think about Lycans at all.

"What do you mean inherited the Alpha rank? It's a gene. It would have been obvious if he got it. We would have known when he was a baby."

Babies were tested for many things at birth; among wolfen, infants were tested for rank genes. An Alpha gene carrier was an Alpha except in rare occasions when the gene was dormant---those usually presented as strong enough to be on level with Beta or Gamma wolves.

I had never heard of a child having the Alpha gene yet being considered an omega.

"We would have been able to smell it on him. I would have smelled it on him. He's my brother. I grew up with him. I would know if he was an Alpha."

"Not if your father kept him covered in scent suppressant. Did you notice how strong his cologne was? I noticed I couldn't get a real read on Ethan. What if your father has been doping him?"

Art looked completely serious even as I shook my head 'no' because there was no way. Patrick was some kind of criminal, sure, but he wasn't wicked enough to misrank his own son, was he?

"Why would he do that?"

My face felt frozen as I tried to look at the situation from Art's perspective. His handsome features were apologetic, compassionate even; I knew he pitied me and, for a second, I hated him for it.

I didn't want his pity. I wanted his information.

Hardening my resolve, I said, "We have to get Patrick back up here. What do I do?"

"Fake an emergency."

I nodded, "Alright. What do I do?"

"Cry. A lot. Hard. You have to convince him you mean it because if he thinks you're playing him for a second? We'll lose any chance we have to push him into the truth."

"How are you going to fake an emergency?" Tyler asked, his heavy arm going around my waist like a muscular belt.

Art winked at me, "I'm going to go make nice with the nurses."

He vanished -I really hated when he did that- and I focused on calling up every negative emotion I could.

I remembered my mother dying in her bed. I remembered her cold hands when I touched them for the last time. I remembered the way her body filled out the black bag the coroner zippered closed over her face.

By the time I was picturing them closing the van doors on my mother's body, I was sobbing.

"Shh, Shh," Tyler shushed, trying to pull me against the wall of his chest only I wasn't interested in his comfort.

I shoved away from him and backed up against Nathan instead.

Nathan had seen my mother. He'd known her. He'd heard her voice. Felt the touch of her hands. Tasted her cooking.

"What if he's kept her from me all these years, Nathan? What if I've thought I was alone, thought Ethan had no one except me and Patrick, and she was just---hidden? How do I make that right?"

Nathan shook his arm until Lindy released him then he hugged me close. His familiar scent brought me back to childhood times when I had focused on getting away from Patrick as often as possible; I remembered the last time he'd held me before I'd been stolen from my ordinary life to meet my Alpha mate.

"We'll work it out. If she's alive? It's a good thing. Don't talk about it though. Don't say anything out loud. You have to keep it quiet. Cry, but don't say why."

I nodded against Nathan's chest, reached a hand out to squeeze one of Lindy's before going back to sit in the bank of chairs I'd vacated.

Tyler sat beside me, his hands loose, dangling over his knees as if he wanted to touch me yet knew I couldn't handle it if he did.

A code blue was announced over the intercom system along with the name 'Flores' and I jerked as if I'd been electrocuted.

"What?" I asked, feeling stupid from my tears.

"Code Blue, Flores, repeat: Code Blue, Flores. Would all Flores family members please report to the surgical waiting lounge? Thank you."

I knew my eyes were wide enough to almost pop out of my head.

Art had come through on his promise to get Patrick's attention. He'd gotten all of ours, too.

Nathan came over to kneel in front of me, tugging Lindy until she sat at my other side. With Tyler on my right, Lindy on my left, and Nathan kneeling before me, I felt safe when Patrick emerged from the elevator at what was as close to a run as I had ever seen him use.

"His heart's stopped?"

I cried, shaking my head. I had no idea what to say so I chose to take Art's suggestion to cry as hard and as authentically as possible.

"Someone talk to me! Has my son's heart stopped? Why are they calling a Code Blue for him?"

"We don't know. Art went back and the code was called."

Tyler sent a look toward Patrick which was pure frozen fire. If looks could kill, I had no doubt Patrick would have been mortally wounded; it wouldn't be Ethan who was needing a Code Blue.

"Where is the Alpha Inspector now? What did he say before he went back? Did Ethan relapse? I need to know what's happening to my son!"

I didn't even know Patrick cared about his son enough to yell before this moment.

"Where is my son!? Take me to my son!"

Art hurried out of the double doors leading to the surgical suite, "Here! Flores! We need you to do an immediate transfusion. If his mother were still alive, we'd ask her, but right now? You're the only one we can ask so I don't care whether you want to do it or not: you are doing it."

Whatever secrets Patrick was keeping about my mother must have flown through his mind in that moment because Art looked positively euphoric as he led Patrick back, winking at me as the doors closed behind them.

"I hope he got the information we needed. I don't think I can do this again."