Forget About Midnight (Alexa O'Brien, Huntress #9)(71)

“No choice? You had no choice but to steal my DNA without my consent? Fuck you, Briggs.”

He fixed me with his well-practiced, no-nonsense, Fed stare. “I’m not here to discuss our methods with you. I’ve reported your arrest to head office. It’s official. They will be releasing Juliet once the paperwork goes through.”

“Where is she?”

“She’s here. Several doors down.”

“I want to see her,” I demanded.

“Of course you do. And you will. But not until after I can get you out. If she comes to see you and then you somehow escape, it’s going to look like she had something to do with it.”

I couldn’t argue with that. “You still plan to let me out?”

Briggs shifted his gaze just enough to make me suspicious. “I said I would. But I didn’t say when.”

I was on my feet so fast he took a step back, putting his back against the door. “What the f*ck does that mean?”

He drew his gun but held it at his side rather than pointing it at me. “It means that you may have to stay a while. At least until I can find a way to spring you without causing undue suspicion.”

“Um, no.” I shook my head and laughed, filling the room with venom. “I’m not going to just hang out here waiting for you to decide it’s a good time while you torture and test me in the f*cking meantime.”

“It won’t be like that. I’ll make sure of it.” Briggs cast a glance at the guard who watched us intently through the window. “You’ll just have to trust me.”

I clasped my hands together in order to keep from wrapping them around his throat. “I don’t. I never will. If you think keeping me here is going to help you recruit me or brainwash me or whatever you do to get my kind to work with you, then think again. I’d rather be dead than work for you.”

A muscle twitched in his jaw, an unconscious reaction that confirmed what Arys had said. That was exactly what Briggs wanted. “You know, Alexa, virtually all of the inhuman agents we have here came to us seeking employment. That may be hard for you to believe, but it’s true. In fact, almost everyone here has some kind of paranormal history that led them to this occupation.” He shrugged, leaving it to me to accept or not.

My curiosity was piqued. I studied him, searching his dark eyes. “Oh yeah? So what was it that brought you here?”

His expression hardened as Briggs sought to throw a mask of deception over the truth. But it was too late because I’d already seen it in his eyes. Briggs wasn’t just an agent with a hard on for the supernatural. There was something more going on with him. How did I not see it before?

“I didn’t come to talk about me,” he said. His posture stiffened. I’d made him uncomfortable.

“So? Tell me anyway. Make yourself relatable, and maybe we’ll get along a lot better. I mean, you’re sleeping with my sister. We could end up being family. Might as well share what it is that makes you more like us than you want to admit.” My smile must have looked as vicious as it felt because Briggs responded with a scowl.

As we stood there staring at each other, I got the sensation of a ghost-like hand on my arm. Nobody was there, and I did my best to ignore the unseen apparition. The place was filled with them.

But then it whispered in my ear, so quiet I had to strain to hear. ‘He’s a dreamer. Afraid of himself. Afraid to sleep in the dark. So he works the night away.’

A dreamer? That could be interpreted a few ways. I didn’t react to the voice. It could have been a long-dead occupant of the hospital or even the evil entity that fed the energy here. Paying attention to it would only encourage it, and I didn’t need that shit getting inside my head.

“I am nothing like you, O’Brien,” Briggs said, a hard edge to his tone. I’d offended him. “I am not a killer.”

This again. I was so over it. Rather than argue with him again, I plopped back down in the chair and sighed, bored. “Not a killer. A dreamer.”

The shock on his face gave me a gleeful sense of victory. Could it be? Dare I even hope?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, but he wasn’t prepared. He stank with the lie.

“No?” I crossed my legs and propped an elbow on my knee, my chin in my bound hands as I regarded him with growing excitement. “Tell me, Briggs, do you walk in other people’s dreams? Or is there some other type of dreamer than I’m not yet familiar with?”

For the first time since I’d met the man, he appeared flustered. His gaze hit the ground as he considered my question.

“How did you know?” he asked.

The confirmation was astounding. I didn’t even know how to process it. All this time, my ticket to freedom from Shya had been right here, in this man. Briggs was a f*cking dreamwalker. I could have cried with relief and joy.

“I didn’t,” I said, feeling smug. “Something just whispered it in my ear. Do you have any idea how many disembodied spirits are lurking in this building? They know things, Briggs. Better be careful. That could be dangerous for you.”

When our eyes met, his tough agent mask was back in place. “I don’t know where you’re going with this, but you better watch yourself, O’Brien. You’re not in a position to do a damn thing to anyone.”