Chapter 20

T he last thing Rhys had felt like doing was bringing Maisie with him to the Sydney office of the Agency.

Robb and James had been clear, though: no one was after her anymore, and they both needed to come in for debriefing, and to try to make clear what their side of the story was.

I already tried that, Rhys had growled down the phone when Robb had called him and told him his suspension was canceled, and he needed to explain what had really happened. Didn't get me very far, did it?

But between them, Robb and James had managed to persuade him this wasn't a trick or a ruse to get Maisie into their clutches, and given that Robb had called off the agents who'd been pursuing them after receiving the information that it had been Aaron Merrett, and not Maisie or whatever they had thought, who'd been behind everything, Rhys had decided to trust them.

Not like I could do anything else, unless I wanted to be looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life, he thought sourly as he sat with Maisie by his side, looking across the table at Robb and James, both of whom were explaining what had gone wrong in turns. At least everyone seems to actually believe me this time.

And it was true – they did.

In fact, both James and Robb had been very willing to listen as Maisie and Rhys had laid out what had happened on Burr Island, from the moment they'd arrived to the minute Robb had sent the text message calling the agents off from the pursuit.

And now, they were explaining their side of the story.

"It seems Aaron Merrett has been quite busy," James Eyre said, raising an eyebrow as he slid some printed-out emails across the table to Rhys and Maisie. Rhys only glanced at them, but he could recognize what they were right away – it was a chain of emails to the arms dealers Aaron had gone undercover to ensnare.

The case that had meant Rhys had been suspended from duty for trying to save him.

His stomach twisted as he tried to wrap his head around the whole thing. He'd wanted to believe that it was all a mistake, somehow – that there'd been a mix-up along the way, or they'd jumped the gun without enough evidence, and Aaron had somehow gotten caught up in something that made it only seem as if he was guilty.

But the evidence was right there in front of him, in stark black and white. And, whatever else Rhys could say about Michael, he trusted him completely when it came to the quality of his work. Michael had way too much pride to do a shoddy job of something like this.

He wouldn't have sent them to me to pass on if he wasn't sure, Rhys thought. So how can I argue with that? But still…

His hands clenched momentarily, before he forced them to relax, not wanting to give away any of his inner turmoil to James or Robb. But the feeling of betrayal cut deep. He hadn't even known Aaron well, but he had trusted him implicitly, as he'd trusted all of his fellow agents.

He'd risked his own life to extract him from his undercover position when the situation had turned bad, and then been suspended from his job and was very nearly killed in the aftermath. His memory of that day was hazy even now, his first meeting with Maisie still a blur – and that was a kick in the guts.

He didn't want to believe that Aaron had betrayed him, betrayed all of them – but it had to be true. And now he wasn't sure if he could trust anybody anymore.

He looked at James, who was waiting expectantly for an answer. "Do you know why he did it?"

James shook his head. "We're still trying to work that one out. Agent Merrett insists that he's innocent, but that's not exactly surprising. Unfortunately for him, the evidence says otherwise. We're still questioning him, of course, but right now, the documents you gave us are as good as a confession."

Rhys glanced over at Robb, who didn't react in the slightest. He'd always been an inscrutable bastard, but now it was like his face was set in stone. Rhys had no idea what he was thinking.

"Then… everything he did was just to cover his own arse and try to set Rhys up?" Maisie asked. "Try to make him look like he was incompetent, to get the heat off himself?"

James nodded. "It certainly seems that way. That's why those men came after Rhys when he was suspended." He turned to Rhys. "It seems Agent Merrett was hoping you'd be easily corruptible, which would just add more grist to the mill. You were incompetent, corrupt – so it was your stuff-up that caused all of this, rather than his betrayal. Making your mate seem just as guilty as you was, I suppose, a cherry on top – he probably thought it would make it seem as if you were in league with each other by leaving a chain of evidence that Maisie was working undercover as your handler."

Maisie let out a low, shaky laugh. "Well, that's pretty much impossible, since I don't even know what that means . I'm a nurse, not a super-secret double agent. I don't think I'd even pass the physical for Rhys's line of work. I mean, I can't even turn into anything."

"Well, we know that now." James smiled. "But it almost worked. Thankfully we tracked down the truth in the end, and the real culprit was brought to justice."

"Yes," was all Robb had to say to that.

Rhys nodded, but his griffin twitched a little. It was having an even harder time dealing with the sense of betrayal than Rhys was. Loyalty was paramount to a griffin – the idea of betraying one's comrades was anathema to it, and now seeing Rhys's superior acting in such a closed-off fashion was putting it on edge.

"Do you have any more questions?" James asked.

Rhys paused for a moment, before shaking his head. "Not at this point. I'd rather put this out of my mind for a bit, not think about it for a while."

Though I'm pretty sure I'm going to be thinking about it a whole lot more, whether I like it or not.

"No, me neither," Maisie concurred. "But yeah, like Rhys said… I feel like this is going to take a little more time to process."

"Totally understandable," James said. "Agent Richardson, I know your suspension has been rescinded, but we're putting you on paid leave – not coming out of any of your regular leave balances, of course – so you can take some time to rest and recuperate. It's been a hectic few days."

"Thanks," Rhys muttered, standing up. Part of him wanted to throw himself back into his work, but the more rational part of himself – which does exist, Hec, shut up – could recognize that he needed a break.

And, more than that, he wanted to spend some time with Maisie. Preferably while neither of them were on the run for their lives.

He felt at a bit of a loss. Was that it, then? Should he just… wander off? It felt wrong.

"One other thing," James said, and Rhys turned back from the door. "Rhys, I know you're a shifter and you'll heal up from pretty much everything anyone can throw at you. But your mate here isn't. After everything, I think a medical checkup is in order, wouldn't you say? After all, it was the Agency that is, in part, responsible for all this. I'd like to make sure you're both looked after."

"Thanks, but I'm okay," Maisie said. "Just a few cuts and bruises, but I'm not too bad, considering."

"Far be it from me to contradict an expert," James said with a smile, "but how about for my own peace of mind, then? You've been through a lot, and at the hands of our agents. I'd like to know we've done right by you."

Maisie hesitated, then nodded. "Okay. But how long will it take?"

Rhys glanced over at her. The idea of being separated from Maisie chafed, but he knew it was standard practice, and James really did have a point about getting her checked over.

"Not too long, I don't think, if you say it's only a matter of a few cuts and scrapes," James assured her. He turned to Robb. "Was there anything more you wanted to say before we finish up here?"

Robb shook his head. "No – I'm pretty sure you've covered everything."

Rhys frowned. Again, Robb had always been taciturn, but now he was taking it to ridiculous new heights.

"Well, let's get you on your way then," James said, smiling at Rhys and Maisie in turn.

There was an orderly waiting for them outside the meeting room – with a smile, she directed Maisie down a corridor, telling her she'd be as quick as she could.

Maisie glanced over her shoulder at him as she was led away, a wan smile on her face. She looked tired, and Rhys couldn't say he blamed her.

You are lucky the mate bond is so strong, otherwise I do not know how she'd continue to put up with you, his griffin grumbled. After everything you put her through.

Rhys frowned. None of that was my fault, he tried to argue, but the fact was that if Maisie hadn't met him, she wouldn't ever have been caught up in all this.

Despite himself, guilt stabbed him in the gut. Maybe he should go be with her now, even if it was just to hold her hand while the nurse dabbed disinfectant on her cuts and scrapes.

"Rhys! Can I have a moment?"

Keeping his annoyance from his face, Rhys turned to see James standing behind him. As much as he wanted to tell James he was off to be with Maisie, he forced himself to say, "Sure."

"Given that you're off suspension, you'll need your ID card back," James said. "We can sort that out now before you go off on your well-deserved leave."

Rhys nodded. He supposed that he did need to do that.

Okay, I'll get my stuff… and then Maisie and I are getting the hell out of here.

The two of them took the lift downstairs, James making small talk and Rhys trying to not sound entirely disinterested. It wasn't like he didn't care, but he was just sick to death of all this bullshit right now – not to mention that Aaron's betrayal was still burning a hole in his gut.

After what seemed like an eternity, they arrived at the secure room where his card was being held, the surly-looking agent on duty waving them through the door. James unlocked a small cabinet, going through what seemed like an excessive number of steps in order to do so – but Rhys knew that when it came to small pieces of plastic that could be used to gain access to all kinds of top-secret places and files, security was paramount.

"Here you go," James said, handing it over, and Rhys did have to admit that it felt good to have it back again. Having to wear a visitor's pass at his own place of work was a pretty shit feeling, and it was with a certain feeling of irritation that he pulled the visitor's pass off now, handing it over to James. Being made to feel like an untrustworthy intruder after having put his life on the line to rescue one of their own – or someone who he thought was one of their own – was really rubbing salt into the wound.

It was going to take time to get over this.

"Thanks," he said, trying not to let his low mood show. The more blandly polite he could be, the more likely James was to shut up with his idle chit-chat and let him go.

"It was just as well that Michael came through with the info just when he did," James mused as they left the room. "A few minutes later, and we could've had an all-out intra-agency brawl at a popular tourist site. Could've been pretty nasty."

"Yeah," Rhys muttered. He was so close to being out of here and being able to spend some proper time with his mate – a couple more vague pleasantries, and then he could beat a hasty farewell, grab Maisie, and get the hell out of here. He didn't know where they would go, exactly, but anywhere but here was sounding pretty damn good.

And besides –

Wait.

Michael?

It was all he could do to keep walking naturally, rather than stop in his tracks and swear loudly.

I never mentioned that Michael was the one who forwarded those documents. And he wiped all identifying data before he forwarded them to me, so James and whoever else saw those documents wouldn't have been able to tell the source, either.

Rhys's mind spun.

How did James know it was Michael who gave me that information?

He'd been very careful not to mention Michael at any point. He knew Trent and Euan would never reveal that either.

Michael had said he didn't want to be connected with any of this, and Rhys didn't blame him. He'd stuck his neck out for him, and the least Rhys could do was make sure the Agency didn't know he'd been able to get around all their security and poke around in their files.

Michael could catch some serious jail time for that. And if the Agency knew it, then why was everyone acting like it was no big deal?

James knows it was Michael. But did he find that out somehow, or did someone else tell him? How many people are in on this?

His brow furrowed ever so slightly as he walked – though his griffin had no such aspirations to subtlety.

Vile betrayal!! it screeched. Who is it who dares compromise the integrity of this hallowed institution?!

You don't even obey the simplest of the Agency's rules, Rhys shot back distractedly. Now shut up. This is actually important.

Shockingly, it did – which just underscored how serious this situation was.

I need to get out of here. Something is very, very wrong.

"Look, thanks again," he said to James. "I'm going to head off – the last few days have been a bit of a challenge, and I'm stuffed."

James nodded. "No problem, take your time. Come back whenever you're ready." He smiled. "Though there are limits! If you're not back in a few months' time, we might have to have words."

Rhys forced a smile. "Yeah, sure thing."

He went up to the lift and pressed the button, lost in thought.

Another mole? Who could it be?

… Shit, I have to let the others know.

He thought back on how cold Robb had been acting after Aaron had been brought in – and after Rhys's original hearing as well.

Surely it couldn't be Robb. Surely. Robb was a lot of things, but he was absolutely dedicated to the Agency, and he was the most by-the-book person Rhys knew.

… But that's how they get you, don't they? Hiding in plain sight?

He shook his head.

He couldn't believe it of Robb. He'd known him for years.

But James?

No. He'd also known James since he'd gone through the academy almost a decade ago. It didn't seem possible.

I can't think about this now, he told himself as he tried to keep his features neutral, even as his head spun wildly.

His first priority had to be getting Maisie out of here. After that, he could try to work out what was going on – but he knew he'd need as much help as he could get.

The lift doors finally opened, and he stepped inside –

Only for a solid, large, heavy weight to slam into his back, smashing him into the back of the lift with a CRASH and leaving him winded, dazed – and very confused.

He shook his head, trying to stop himself from seeing stars, his vision blurring from the way his head had smacked into the metal wall of the lift.

What the fuck was that?!

The weight slammed into him again – and again. He heard a rib crack, and suddenly breathing became a whole lot more difficult.

Rhys scrambled to find his feet before it could get him yet another time, turning around just in time to see a giant, hairy wild boar charging at him, crashing into his legs and slamming him against the wall once more.

A giant, hairy wild boar with enormous tusks . One of which was currently glistening with Rhys's blood, which dripped slowly to the floor.

Rhys staggered to his feet, pain sluicing through him, and he looked down to see a massive gash torn in the leg of his pants – and in the flesh of his calf. Blood spurted onto the floor as he stood.

His leg wobbled, threatening to give way beneath him, but at least he understood the situation now.

It's James.

James is attacking me.

James knew that Michael was the one who sent the documents. He's the mole.

His mind reeled for a moment, before settling into a kind of curious blankness. He couldn't get caught up trying to think about this right now – he simply needed to concentrate on surviving, finding Maisie, and then escaping.

With the current priority being surviving . Blood was still gushing from his leg, though he could feel the injury starting to heal, the flesh knitting together. It'd been sheer luck that had kept him from any badly broken bones thus far, though his ribs were definitely the worse for wear – but he knew it was only a matter of time, especially given that James was clearly readying himself for another charge.

There was no escape – the griffin was simply too large to shift within the confines of the lift, and the enormous boar was blocking the exit.

Unless… his griffin said – and once Rhys realized what it was intending, he nodded.

Let's do it.

He held his breath, his heartbeat loud in his ears, as the boar paused – and then charged.

Now.

He shifted – but only partway, his arms and legs elongating, his hands turning into the fearsome talons of an eagle.

He couldn't stop his shift once it had started – but he could leap into the air mid-shift as James charged inside the lift, digging his talons momentarily into James's hind quarters even as Rhys's rear legs slammed into James's back, allowing him to leapfrog over him and propel himself out into the corridor before his shift completed.

He slammed into the corridor wall in griffin form, shedding a few feathers in the process, but still very much alive. In the lift, the boar squealed in pain, blood streaming from the wounds on its back where Rhys had raked it with his talons.

Quick as a flash, the griffin stuck its head inside and pecked at the buttons, selecting the lowest of the basement levels before pulling its head back out again. The boar shrieked as it realized what was happening, hauling itself to its feet and attempting to charge back out of the lift – but it was too late, succeeding only in slamming against the doors as they closed. Rhys could hear its guttural howling getting fainter as the lift descended.

Good job, he told the griffin as he shifted back to human form – the corridor was far too narrow for him to do anything as a griffin.

Of course, the griffin preened. It was my plan, after all.

Rhys ran for the stairwell, still limping somewhat from the goring his leg had received from James's tusk, but able to move well enough. Fear for Maisie drove him beyond any kind of pain as he bounded up the stairs, racing toward the floor where the medical bay was located.

Maisie, he thought desperately. I'm coming. Hold on.

He ran down the corridor, bursting into the medbay without a moment's hesitation – and fury ran through his veins in a fiery rage.

Because Maisie was lying motionless on a gurney, clearly unconscious – or worse – while the orderly who had taken her away earlier was hovering above her, syringe in hand. The contents of the syringe were a sickly, sinister green color.

Wyvern venom.

Rhys didn't slow for a moment, his momentum carrying him across the room before the orderly could do anything except turn to face him, her mouth opening in surprise.

The griffin shrieked in fury. No mercy for those who would harm our mate!

Rhys delivered a devastating blow to the orderly's sternum, all of his rage and fear channeled into that one point. He heard the crack of bone beneath his fist, saw her eyes go wide, and thought of nothing except the fact that he wished he'd hit her harder.

In the end, he settled for delivering a swift punch to her face before she could fall, knocking her unconscious. It wasn't enough to kill her, given that he knew she was a shifter – and just how many people did James have working with him? – but he needed her out of the way.

And I don't trust myself not to do permanent damage to her right now.

Besides, Maisie needed him.

He bent over Maisie's inert form, his heart in his throat. This absolutely could not be happening. He refused to accept it.

Inside his head, the griffin howled.

Our mate! Someone has harmed our mate! They will pay!

Yes, they will, Rhys told it in turn. But right now, the only thing that matters is getting Maisie to safety.

"Maisie," he whispered urgently. He rested his fingertips against the side of her neck – and, after the longest moment of his life, he felt a strong, reassuring pulse.

One heartbeat was followed by another, and then another, in a slow, steady rhythm, and he gripped the side of the gurney as his knees trembled in relief.

Turning his head, he looked in the other direction, to see her chest rising and falling gently. The gentle drift of her breath over his cheek confirmed what he was seeing, and he took a moment to let his head fall forward gently, his forehead touching her ribs, reassured by her warmth and movement.

She is safe, his griffin said in a quiet voice that Rhys hadn't even known it was capable of. Our mate is safe.

Rhys knew it was true.

She's just unconscious. But I don't think she's hurt.

Clearly, that fucking orderly had given her something to knock her out, and she'd been planning on finishing the job with the wyvern venom.

"But I'm here now," Rhys whispered to Maisie, as he prepared to sweep her up in his arms. "And I'm getting you out of here."

"Well, well. This is a touching moment."

Rhys's head whipped up to see James leaning against the doorframe, an insufferably smug look on his face. He smiled tauntingly, and Rhys's blood boiled.

How dare he betray us like this, his griffin hissed. How dare he endanger our mate.

On that, at least, Rhys and the griffin were in complete agreement.

He shifted around the gurney to protect Maisie, who was still out cold – although, thankfully, she was starting to move a little. Rhys could only hope that she would wake up properly soon.

James shifted his stance ever so slightly – it was a barely perceptible movement, but it was enough to have Rhys on the alert.

Sure enough, James sprang forward a moment later, and Rhys shifted into a defensive stance, ready to protect Maisie with his life.

Too late he realized his mistake – James wasn't aiming for him, or for Maisie.

He was aiming for the syringe full of wyvern venom, which had bounced across to the other side of the room when Rhys had hit the orderly.

Rhys dived for it, but James had the element of surprise and a head start, and he snatched the syringe up from the floor before sidestepping Rhys, holding the syringe aloft in one hand.

"Ah-ah-ah," he chided, waving the syringe back and forth like he was chastising a naughty child. "I'm disappointed, Rhys. I thought I'd taught you better than this. But I guess this is what happens when you spend too long under the Agency's thumb. You get soft. Predictable."

Rhys realized with horror that James was now standing between him and Maisie, syringe raised, its deadly toxin glowing green within, a single drop spilling from the tip.

If wyvern venom was dangerous to shifters, it was positively fatal to humans. One jab with the syringe, and Maisie would be dead within seconds – perhaps even a fraction of a second. There would be no second chances. There was no way Rhys would be able to find the antivenom and administer it fast enough.

It was the only reason why Rhys hesitated now. If it were only his life on the line, he would throw himself at James without a second thought – but he was absolutely unwilling to risk Maisie.

And he knew that James knew it, too.

"Whuh –?" came Maisie's confused voice, and Rhys's heart leapt. "What – Rhys? Rhys, is that you?"

She stirred on the gurney, her movements slow and uncoordinated – and James took advantage of the distraction, bounding over to her and hauling her up into a sitting position in a single smooth motion, the deadly syringe held at her neck. Any movements Rhys may have been making in her direction stilled into utter motionlessness. Even his griffin froze.

"What's wrong, Rhys?" James taunted. "Griffin got your tongue? Not willing to do what needs to be done, and take down a threat while it's distracted with its hostage?"

What happened to you? Rhys didn't say, even as he tried to lock eyes with Maisie, who still looked pretty out of it, her head lolling, her eyes unfocused.

He didn't know how much more betrayal he could take. Of all the people, James? He'd been genuine when he'd taken Rhys under his wing during his Academy days. He was certain of it.

James shook his head at the lack of response. "And to think you were my best student. I guess all good things must come to an end." He shook Maisie's shoulder, her head rolling back and forth with the motion, and Rhys seethed , his fists clenching. "Okay, love – upsy-daisy."

He hauled Maisie to her feet, holding up most of her body weight with one arm wrapped around her side, while the syringe was held close to her throat with the other hand.

"Rhys?" Maisie said again, her head still hanging limply.

"Aren't you going to console her, Rhys?" James said mockingly. "Your mate is calling for you."

"It's okay, Maisie," Rhys said, even as his griffin screamed at him to twist off James's head like a bottle top. "Everything's going to be fine. You can rest soon."

"That's more like it," James said, as he led Maisie to the door, her feet dragging as she tried to keep up with him. "Did you hear that, Maisie? Everything's going to be fine."

As he reached the door, he smirked. "After you, Rhys. Hands where I can see them. Don't even think about trying to grab yourself a scalpel or anything else that could be used as a weapon on the way out."

"Wouldn't dream of it," he muttered as he went through the door. It'll be much more satisfying to tear you apart with my bare hands, anyway.

There was nobody else out there – he supposed that James had used his cronies to clear the area.

He walked down the corridor, chafing at the bit, desperate to grab Maisie and rip that fucker James to shreds… but he knew he couldn't. Not yet, anyway. He'd always been a bit of a hothead, much as he hated to admit it, but right now he needed to keep his cool and wait for the right moment.

You've been training your entire adult life for this. Just keep your head on straight. The moment will come.

It was easier said than done. Even though he was walking ahead of the other two, he could hear the shuffling of Maisie's feet, the panting of her breath, her confused questions. He wanted nothing more in the world than to turn around… but, as long as he could hear her behind him, alive and mostly well, he knew that his best option was to just keep going.

"Where to, boss?" he asked, his voice light, but with a definite acidic undertone.

"Into the lift, if you please," James replied jovially. "If you could take us to the roof, that would be most appreciated, thank you."

The roof. That's not good.

On the contrary, his griffin snarled. That's the best possible place.

That was true, he supposed. The roof would give the griffin the best possible chance of winning a fight – and when it came to the possibility of being spotted shifting by a member of the public, both Rhys and the griffin had zero fucks left to give.

The lift rose upward, dented and battered from its earlier boar-versus-griffin showdown, but still functional. Enough time had passed since then for Rhys's injuries to heal, and he was able and extremely willing to go a second round with this arsehole.

This time, there won't be enough of you left for the authorities to identify.

The doors opened at the roof level, and Rhys exited, followed by James, who was still dragging Maisie along with that fucking needle held to her neck… and now they were way up off the ground, to boot.

I won't let anything happen to you, he promised, willing the thoughts to pass through the mate bond. You and I are walking out of here, and then we're going away somewhere where no one else can find us. Just the two of us.

James faced him, arm around Maisie's unresisting body, an infuriating smirk plastered on his face. The afternoon breeze swirled and blustered around them, bringing faint traffic sounds from the street far below.

"Okay," Rhys said. "Time to talk."