Chapter One

One

The sharp folds of the autoclave paper caught and held Renee’s attention as she unloaded the cart and tucked the sterilized packages in cupboards and on shelves. August’s wrapping technique was both familiar and unique, the tape softly discolored from the heat and moisture. He’d made little drawings of what was inside since he couldn’t reliably read English and his written word was indecipherable to her. They’d been sharing space for only a day, and yet the lab felt empty without him.

Finding that pixy in his belongings had clearly upset him, and he had decided to spend the morning developing a better protocol for incoming goods. His absence had left an unexpected hole in her day. Jackson was off-site looking for Gorman, and with August busy, she had skipped lunch. Sitting at the end of the table trying to avoid Yasmin, Hancock, and Monroe was not worth a chicken club sandwich no matter how good it was.

“Hence me organizing my office,” she whispered as she rolled the empty cart back into the autoclave. A stray wad of tape caught, ripping from her in an obvious sound. But when she went to throw it away, she hesitated at the wadded-up, purple-and-red-smeared paper towel still in the trash can.

The urge to pull it out and inspect it washed through her. It was a pixy, for God’s sake. A real pixy. And he had squashed it and thrown it away. Except for the wings. Which he ate.

“Gross,” she whispered, her head jerking up at the knuckle knock at her door. She warmed, disconcerted as she saw Vaughn, his dark eyebrows high and a faint, curious smile on his face for having surprised her.

“Hey, hi,” she said as she rocked away from the trash can and went to needlessly tap a stack of papers on her desk even. “I didn’t expect to see you today.”

“Dr. Caisson.” The slim man rolled the sucker between his teeth. “Got forty-five minutes?”

I never should have said I was going to pin this on Tayler. Her shoulders slumped. “I thought you said it would be at the most embarrassing time you could find.”

He smiled toothily at her. “You look embarrassed.”

Her glance went to the trash can. “August…never mind,” she said, then set the tidied papers on the desk. If she didn’t do this now, he’d find a worse time, time that she could be spending with Jackson or August.

“Let me get my phone,” she added as she plucked it from the charging pad and tucked it in a back pocket. “We doing this at your office?” she said, almost pushing him into the hall and locking the door behind her. No way was she going to invite him in. He’d psychoanalyze her knickknacks.

Vaughn’s brow furrowed as he gazed at her closed door. “With the couch and chair and the box of tissues on the table?” he said. “I’d rather not. My office isn’t that big.” He started down the hall, his pace slow in thought. “Ah, how about the coffee shop?” he suggested as he shifted his sucker to the other side of his mouth. “We could chat over a latte.”

Her stomach rumbled. “Nah. Let’s just find a quiet corner.”

“Sure.”

But as they made their way through the busy halls, finding a quiet corner began to look impossible. Everyone was moving with a jerky quickness, their words terse as they gathered in tight knots. Even the laughter seemed forced. The entire feeling of the installation shifted when Jackson had left with his chosen eight this morning in search of Gorman. Even the ever-amused Vaughn was different, still wearing the hesitant worry he had when Tayler had tried to crash Jackson’s apology.

Focus blurring, Renee’s thoughts touched on that patterned ring Vaughn had worn the first time they’d met. She hadn’t seen it since, but by God, it had looked like August’s prized leaf.

Suspicion rose, tightening about her chest. She glanced at Vaughn, careful to keep her expression bland. A quiet corner where anyone could overhear, or a café table that could be easily bugged? Getting her words on audio, where they could be used against her, wasn’t going to happen, but the squeak of sneakers and the thump-thump-thump—spoong of a basketball gave her an idea.

“How about the gym?” she suggested, her tone light. “I don’t want to walk all the way to the café.”

Vaughn hesitated, and they scuffed to a halt at the gym’s door. “You want to talk over a game of horse?”

She beamed at him, playing the part of a compliant patient. “God, no. Just sit in the bleachers. I’ve been stuck in that lab, and it would be nice seeing someone exercise even if I’m not the one doing it.” The gym wouldn’t have any bugs. The only time anyone sat in the bleachers was during a game, and if a game was going on, you could shout into a bug and not be heard.

Vaughn moved his sucker from one side of his mouth to the other. “Sure,” he said again, gesturing for her to go first.

The scent of cologne, sweat, and varnish tickled a memory as she went through the open double doors and the world shifted from institutional tile floors and gray walls to bright almond wood and quickly moving bodies.

“Wherever you want.” Vaughn’s gaze lingered on the half-court game, and she headed up the bleachers, pulse quickening as she shunned the stairs and just long-stepped up the seats until she had a good view.

Awkwardness overwhelmed her suspicion as Vaughn settled beside her, the crunch of his sucker between his teeth obvious. The sound of squeaks and comfortable back-and-forth was pleasant, and she wondered if August might like coming down some afternoon after work.

“If you thought this would distract me from my job,” Vaughn said as he flicked the sucker stick under the bleachers, “you’re smarter than I thought.” Smiling, he turned to her. “So, you want to talk about how you’re not going to go vigilante on us?”

She snorted and put her feet on the seat in front of her, knees high. “Jackson has it covered. I mean, if he can’t find out who did it, no one will.” She hesitated. “How is Tayler?” she asked, the memory of her being dragged from the hall still bright in her thoughts.

A curious smile pulled Vaughn’s mouth up. “Wow, you’re good. I can tell you’ve had practice putting your therapist off. First, you put me in a highly distractible situation; second, the bleachers force me to sit beside you so I can’t face you, making it doubly hard to do my job.”

She blinked innocently at him, knowing he’d see the sarcasm under it. “I prefer to think that the bleachers make it less confrontational.”

“And then you tie your discussion to the one thing you know I can’t talk about.” He shifted, sitting almost sideways to look at her. “But I will,” he added, his eyes crinkling in stress. “Have you given any thought as to why you’re blaming Tayler for their deaths?”

Her good mood vanished. “I’m blaming her because she’s got a documented history of mutilating Neighbors. I would not put it past Monroe to have given her the okay, but a real scientist wouldn’t have been tricked into believing it was the right thing to do.”

Pulse fast, she waited, feeling vindicated when Vaughn nodded slowly.

“History isn’t always viewed with twenty-twenty vision,” he said, his voice just louder than the squeaking shoes. “But it’s easy to say what should have been done once it’s over. Me, I’m thinking that you need to explore the possibility that some of your emotion might be coming from your need to blame someone in order to move past a troubling experience.”

Renee pushed two feet down the bench so she could turn to face him. “You’re talking about…no. that’s not it at all, Vaughn,” she said, not liking that he was taking her past and extrapolating it into her here and now. “Just because you weren’t there to help me move past my ‘troubling experience’ doesn’t mean that I haven’t.” She set her hands in her lap, forcing them to not clench. They felt odd there, but wrapping her arms around her middle wasn’t happening.

“Okay,” he almost drawled.

Renee narrowed her eyes at his disbelief. “What is keeping me up at night is how everyone is okay with Monroe covering it up.”

Vaughn shrugged. “It’s classic CYA, Renee,” he said, a hint of his usual humor showing. “Until we know who is responsible, we can’t own up to it, and the world at large won’t be hurt by not knowing until we have the truth. Besides, the well-being of two worlds shouldn’t be jeopardized because of the questionable actions of a few individuals.”

Her frown deepened, and she stiffened, stifling a shudder. An odd feeling was taking her as Vaughn looked at her. It felt as if something was pushing on her, maybe pushing on her aura, if she believed in that sort of thing. And her head hurt. No doubt, with Vaughn trying to convince her that she didn’t know what she knew, hadn’t seen what she’d seen. Trouble was, he was sounding reasonable again—and he shouldn’t.

“Honestly, Renee, I’m scared shitless of what could have happened if Noel hadn’t been so understanding.” Vaughn shifted to put a foot on the seat ahead of him. “Hell, I’m still scared. We only have what they are telling us to make decisions on. I don’t trust their motives. They have nothing, and our world is so rich.” He hesitated, expression softening. “I’m glad you’re working to protect that.”

“Sure.” She pushed her fingers into her head, trying to drive away the pressure settling in behind her nose. “But August is working on it, too,” she added to steer the conversation from herself. “He’s working up new protocols to keep the damaging species out of both ecosystems. Their piscys, our ants. Mosquitos, mice, flies: we’re a mess.” Jackson is out, August gone. It’s the first time I’m alone in weeks, and Vaughn shows up. Damn it, I’m babbling. Why the hell does my head hurt?

“Mmmm.” Elbow on his knee, Vaughn watched the half-court game, and Renee breathed easier as the pressure on her eyes abated. The spoong of the rimmed ball rang out, and then he checked his watch. “I have some time left. How was your date with Jackson at the zoo?”

Her breath caught in surprise. “You’re kidding, right? That wasn’t a date. It was a distraction.”

He turned to her, grinning. “Even so. Did you enjoy it?”

“No!” she blurted, somewhat appalled, then hesitated, thinking about it. “It was okay,” she added, guilt bringing her eyes down. Thank God there aren’t any bugs out here…

“And you shared a bag of roasted almonds?” he prompted.

“A handful, yeah,” she said, but his enthusiasm was undimmed.

“Food. Conversation. That was a date,” Vaughn said. “Good for you. I’ll write that down. How do you feel about the experience?”

I hate the last ten minutes of a session. That’s where all the damage is, she thought as she settled on the hard bench. “And I thought Dr. Tayler was fixated on keeping her job,” she muttered.

Vaughn smirked, clearly pleased. “Jackson had a good time. I can tell you that without violating any patient-doctor relationship.” He sniffed. “It was all over his face.”

“Great.” She hunched over her drawn-up knees. “Glad to hear it.” But Vaughn knew her past, and that made her nervous. It didn’t make her easy to manipulate, but it did make her easy to read. Letting people in was not an option right now.

For a moment, it was just the squeaking of shoes and the thump of the ball. “Any thought about going on another date? Without the stress of dead bodies this time?” Vaughn asked, and she shifted her feet to the floor.

“Maybe,” she said, her thoughts on Mikail. “But honestly, Vaughn, I’d rather take August.” Immediately her brow furrowed. What would he think about animals in cages?

Vaughn shook his head. “Classic. Dating a Neighbor is an excellent way to get involved with someone you can’t hope to have a lasting relationship with.”

She faced him, lips pressed. “Dude! Are you serious? Maybe I want to take him because I know he’d like to see some of our flora and fauna. Or because he’s a biologist who has been locked behind walls since he got here. I’m not self-sabotaging. You haven’t seen self-sabotaging,” she added, thinking of three years of self-imposed bait-and-switch she’d played with a handful of men who had only wanted to get to know her.

“Blah, blah, blah…” Vaughn made mocking finger motions, but he was smiling, laughing at her as if he knew her better than she knew herself. “August doesn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of getting to the zoo. At least not without an overdone circus of media, poking and prying behind you. He’d be lucky to see two exhibits.” He hesitated, adding softly, “He’d have to sneak in after hours to have any hope of enjoying himself.”

God, my head hurts, she thought, pushing her fingers into her forehead. But he was right. Monroe and Hancock were busy with Tayler, and Yasmin was in full PR mode, putting out fires and scheduling the next three years of their lives. Sneaking him in might be the only way August would ever see the cheetahs. How hard could it be? If there was trouble, August could snap to the labyrinth. The zoo wasn’t that far away.

“Okay, I’m off,” Vaughn said suddenly as he stood. “I need to terrorize Mimi. You don’t happen to know where she is, do you?”

“Ah, she might have gone with Jackson,” she said, focus vacant. “He’s off-site trying to track down Gorman.” Worry pinched her brow. If Jackson came back with nothing, she might never get the proof that Tayler was responsible for Han’s and Raphael’s deaths.

“I guess I’ll see if Yasmin has a moment.” Vaughn finger-punched a text. “Take a stroll down cover-up alley.” He tucked his phone away and wiggled his badge at her. “All access, all the time. Gotta love it,” he added. “Thanks for the chat!” he called, then step-thumped down the bleachers, where he caught an out-of-bounds bounce and tossed it back.

Frowning, Renee fingered her own all-access badge. Head hurting, she went to the steps and made her slow way to the floor with her thoughts on cheetahs and roasted almonds. What could it hurt to ask August if he had a couple of hours to go over some Earth species he might find interesting? That it would be at the zoo would be a surprise.

Had Jackson lifted their quarantine, or hadn’t he?