Blood Assassin (The Sentinels #2)(42)

“Close the door.” Wolfe waited for Arel to shut the door before pointing toward the chair nearest his heavy desk. He’d taken the younger Sentinel off his current research into the Brotherhood to investigate the St. Louis company. “Sit.”

The Sentinel crossed to take the leather seat, tossing the file onto the desk.

“On the surface it’s a legit company that’s been in business for the past thirty years.” Opening the folder, Arel pulled out a black and white photo of a middle-aged man who was only remarkable for being so unremarkable. “This is Hull. No one’s seen any sons.”

Wolfe frowned, baffled by Fane’s text to investigate the business. “Any connection to Cavrilo International?”

“None. In fact they don’t have a connection to anyone.”

“Explain.”

“Hull and Sons have all the necessary paperwork for their business and they even have a secretary who shows up every day at the office, but the home address listed for Mr. Hull is bogus as is his private telephone number.”

Wolfe tapped his finger on the polished surface of the desk, sorting through Arel’s succinct report.

“So it’s a shell corporation?”

“Yes.”

Shit. That meant unraveling the truth of Hull and Sons just became ten times more difficult.

“Have the offices watched.”

Arel flashed a grin that had been melting female hearts since he was in his cradle. “Already on it.”

Wolfe hid his burst of satisfaction. Arel was young, but already he showed the type of initiative that would one day make him a leader. Most warriors were happy to follow commands, which made them perfectly suited for the field. He needed men and women who could carry out his orders without question.

Arel was always thinking a step ahead, like a master chess player using strategy to stay ahead of the enemy.

Which was why Wolfe had already started the junior Sentinel’s training.

Not that Arel realized he was being molded by a subtle hand. He was still young enough to relish the thrill of the battle. He would rebel at the mere suggestion that he should be anywhere but at the front line.

“And?” Wolfe pressed.

“And I had Marco follow the secretary home,” Arel revealed with satisfaction.

“So at least one of them has a real home.”

“Not really,” Arel corrected as he leaned forward, shuffling through the file to pull out the photo of a three-story brick building surrounded by an acre of closely tended grass framed by a high fence. At one side of the building was a cement parking lot and on the other was a white grotto and marble fountain.

“What is this?”

Arel shrugged. “This is where she went.”

Wolfe grabbed the photo, holding it close enough to decipher the sign posted on the locked gate.

“CENTURY LAB,” he read out loud. Lifting his head, he met Arel’s steady gaze. “What do you know?”

“The tax returns list it as a research facility.”

“What kind of research?”

The younger man grimaced. “I’m checking, but Marco claims the place is locked down tighter than Valhalla.”

Wolfe was on instant alert. There were only a handful of reasons a business would go to such an effort to protect their secrets.

Few of them good.

“A government facility?” he said, suggesting the one acceptable reason for high security.

Arel shook his head, his expression suddenly somber. “Marco suspects high-blood. He counted three Sentinels patrolling the grounds around the building and at least one telepath monitoring the entrance.”

With a hiss Wolfe was swiveling toward his computer, typing in the name Century Lab. No surprise it wasn’t listed in his database. Which meant any high-bloods working there had lied about their place of employment, since all high-bloods were supposed to keep Valhalla updated on their addresses and work history if they chose not to live at one of the numerous compounds spread around the world.

Or they were rogues.

Both possibilities pissed him off.

“An insurance company that’s not an insurance company. An unsanctioned facility being guarded by high-bloods,” he snarled. “What the hell is going on?”

Arel’s expression tightened with an anticipation he couldn’t disguise. “Send me to St. Louis and I’ll find out.”

“No.” Wolfe nipped the suggestion in the bud. Arel would still have plenty of opportunities to risk his fool neck. Right now it was more important that he use his skill at sifting through puzzle pieces to see the full picture. “I need you working your magic on the computer.”

Not surprisingly, Arel wasn’t pleased. “You have an entire staff of geeks to work computer magic,” he protested. “I’m a Sentinel, I need to be in the field.”

“Not this time.”

Arel clenched his teeth. “Why?”

Wolfe didn’t have to make up an excuse. Even if he wasn’t trying to train Arel to occasionally use his brain instead of his brawn, he wouldn’t allow the young man anywhere near Serra.

“Because if you show up in St. Louis Fane will kill you.”

Arel scowled at the blunt explanation. “He could try.”

Wolfe resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Arel would someday make a great leader, but he was no match for Fane’s brute strength. Hell, no one could match Fane in a head to head matchup.