Chase shrugged. "Not a problem."
"Hold on here," Rowan interjected. "Let's slow down. Tell me what this is about, Chase. If this has something to do with Dragos, we should bring the Order in sooner rather than later." "There's no time for that. Hell, it's probably too late to get much intel as it is. Dragos might have the place on lockdown already."
Rowan cursed darkly. "All the more reason to have Lucan and the Order here too. I'm going to call them - "
"Do whatever you have to," Chase replied, finding it hard to curb the bitterness from his voice, knowing Rowan had open access to the Order while he didn't even know where they'd gone. "I'm not going to wait around cooling my heels. I'm heading out to that goddamn clinic now."
Tavia was at his side before he took the first step. It was still a bit unnerving for a female to move with the same speed and agility as any other Breed. "I'm going with you," she said. "This is my life we're talking about. I'm not going to stand back and let anyone control me. Not ever again. Besides, I'm the only one of us familiar with the clinic and its records. You need me." As much as he wanted to deny her, Chase could see that arguing would be pointless. It would only waste precious time - something they didn't have, if they stood even the slightest chance of collecting any information of value from the dead doctor's clinic.
Tavia Fairchild might be untrained and untried, but in her blood and bones she was Breed - physically strong and powerful in her own right. She was also female, and Chase could see from her determined expression that she would not take his no for any kind of answer.
"All right, then," he said. "What are we waiting for? Let's go."
CHAPTER NINETEEN
DR. LEWIS'S PRIVATE CLINIC was nestled on a pastoral stretch of land that had once been a colonial farm in the rural town of Sherborn. Partway down the moonlit, one-lane track leading to the medical facility and clinic grounds stood a guard shack and automated arm that served as a gate.
The modern enhancements had always struck Tavia as sorely out of place beside the property's stout, rambling stone walls and rolling meadows. But Dr. Lewis had been meticulous about his special patients' privacy and security, which made it all the more peculiar when Tavia, Chase, and Mathias Rowan drove up to the darkened guard shack and found it empty. "Something's not right," she said from the backseat of their dark SUV. "There's always security personnel on duty here, no matter what hour. Dr. Lewis had someone posted at the gate around the clock."
Chase glanced out the passenger window at the darkened landscape, then gave a grim look to his friend seated behind the wheel. "Dragos knows this facility has been compromised." Rowan nodded, equally grave. "It could be a trap. Might not be worth the risk to go any farther."
"We have to." Tavia sat forward, her hands gripping the side of Chase's black leather seat. She wasn't about to come all this way only to turn around without trying. "My life is inside that clinic. This could be the only chance I have to learn who, and what, I really am. If there are others like me, they deserve the truth too."
She watched a tendon tick in Chase's rigid jaw. He said nothing, but she could see his doubt in the dark blue of his gaze as he looked at her. She could feel it, a cold indecision running through her own veins. "I need to know what he did to me and why. I need to know the whole truth, something I haven't had even once in my life. I can't let you deny me that. Not after everything I've been through already."
Chase's answering nod was a long time coming, just a faint tilt of his chin in Rowan's direction. On his cue, the vehicle swerved off the pavement and onto the snowy grounds, engine roaring as Rowan gunned the big SUV up and over the little stacked stone wall, sending the old rocks tumbling beneath the crush of the vehicle's large wheels. With a jostling bump and heave, they plowed through the fallen stones and rolled on toward the clinic building several hundred feet ahead.
Chase jumped out before they stopped. Moving almost faster than Tavia could track him, he ran to the building, breaking a reception area window and climbing inside ahead of them. It struck her, how easily he assumed the role of leader. It seemed to come naturally to him, leaping to the front lines, clearing the way for others to follow him. She caught a glimpse of something golden in him in that moment, something shining and heroic beneath the rough surface of the dangerous man he was now.
"We're clear," he said, reappearing in the open space as Tavia and Rowan ran up to meet him. He knocked aside some of the jagged shards of glass with his boot and offered Tavia his hand. "Watch your step."
She climbed inside the dark office and stood next to Chase, Rowan following right behind. The clinic looked different to her now, unlit and empty. No longer the place she came for healing, but a nest of deception. Its comfortably appointed waiting room, with its soft club chairs and pleasant watercolor paintings framed on the walls, now felt as falsely welcoming as a tranquil lagoon infested with piranhas.
"This way," she said, heading around the partitioned wall that separated the waiting room from the receptionist desk on the other side.
"Where are all the patient files?" Mathias Rowan asked, as he and Chase followed her into the area. Frowning, he quickly scanned their surroundings. "Every medical clinic I've ever seen has reams of paper records on hand."
Tavia shook her head. "Not Dr. Lewis. He is - he was - maniacal when it came to patient security. Everything in here is computerized and password-protected."
"Interesting," Chase remarked.