Knox gave a slow nod. “It’s certainly possible. The hope is that we locate both her and Foreman before such a thing can occur. I’ll have Larkin use facial recognition software—our system is tapped into most CCTV footage available. I don’t have a recent photo of Foreman, but I have one of Muriel. Surely it won’t be that hard to find her and …”
The Prime’s voice faded into the background as Devon’s mind practically slammed against his, vibrating with anxiety. Tanner, something’s happened.
He rushed out of the office, down the stairs, and into the living area. She was standing in the middle of the room, rubbing at her pale face.
Devon winced when she saw him. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have interrupted your meeting. Calling out to you was instinct—”
“Fucking good, it should be.” Tanner gripped her forearms. “Now tell me what’s wrong.”
“I just had a call from Jolene. Pamela’s …” Her lower lip trembled, and she bit down hard on it. “Someone poisoned her, Tanner. They tried to kill her. The doctors pumped Pamela’s stomach, and she seems to be stable, but …” She paused, breath hitching. “I have to go see her.”
“I know you do. And I’m coming with you.”
*
The containment ward looked much like any hospital with its plain white walls, fluorescent lighting, and shiny tile flooring. Devon would wager it was more secure than San Quentin State Prison. She and Tanner had had to pause at several doors while someone punched a long-ass code into a security pad, allowing them entrance. It was no easy thing to get in or out of the ward, and security personnel constantly patrolled the long hallways.
In the daytime, patients often walked the hallways. But they were usually secured in their rooms no later than 7pm, so it was almost eerily quiet as she and Tanner made their way to the crisis unit where Jolene was waiting for them.
The astringent scents of bleach and disinfectant filled the air, irritating her feline. It didn’t like the ward; didn’t like being in a place that it knew it would have a hard time escaping if need be. But it never protested to Devon visiting Pamela.
The ward wasn’t exactly a cheery place, but it was the best place for Pamela. Jolene had once given Devon a tour, respecting that she wanted to know her mother was in a safe, clean environment. It was massive. There were counseling rooms, cafeterias, observation rooms, recreational areas, and common rooms. Devon usually spent time with Pamela in the visitation area, but she’d seen her mother’s room once. It was sparse and sad, especially with its fake window.
The ward was clean and well-kept, given the circumstances. There was the occasional dent here and there in the walls or floor, courtesy of the patients who liked to upend furniture, fling their power around, or throw shit. But there was no dirt or mildew or shabby furnishings.
“Devon?”
Hearing Jolene’s voice, Devon turned to see the Prime standing at the nurse’s station looking weary and downright pissed.
“You got here fast,” Jolene added, crossing to her.
“How is Pamela?”
“Stable.” Jolene sighed. “Her heart stopped once, but the doctors were able to get it going again.”
A harsh breath whooshed out of Devon. “Is she in there?” Her gaze flicked to the closed door behind Jolene.
“Yes. She’s sleeping, but you can see her in a moment.”
Flexing her fingers, Devon stepped closer to Jolene. “You have the person who did this to her, right?”
Jolene’s face hardened. “I wish I did. Nobody saw anything, none of the cameras picked up anything suspicious. But one of the nurses who works on the ward left early and is now missing. My guess? She was paid or blackmailed to poison Pamela and she left before anyone could notice that something was wrong. The other staff said she’d been acting strange all day. Said she was edgy and impatient.” Jolene rubbed Devon’s arm. “She’ll be found, sweetheart.”
Tanner raised a brow. “But will she be alive, or will she have her throat slit like Flanagan?”
“Hopefully, she’s alive, because I have some delightful things in mind for her,” said Jolene, her voice pure silken menace. “This whole thing has shaken up everyone. We’re not used to our own betraying us this way.” Jolene gestured at the trauma room. “Go see her.”
Pushing open the door, Devon stepped into what closely resembled a hospital emergency room. Pamela lay very still on the bed, eyes closed, lips parted, her skin so pale it made her orange hospital bracelet look almost neon—orange being “code” for patients who could be a danger to themselves.
A slender woman looked up from her magazine and smiled at Devon and Tanner, but she didn’t leave her chair until Jolene reassured her that they’d be fine alone with Pamela.
Swallowing, Devon crossed to the bed and took her mother’s limp hand. It was cold and thin. “Mom.” Her voice cracked, so she coughed to clear her throat. “Mom.”
Pamela’s eyelids fluttered open, revealing bloodshot eyes that quickly lit with recognition. “Devon,” she breathed. Her lips slowly curled into a blinding but shaky smile, as if she lacked the energy to keep it on her face. “I don’t feel too good,” she added, her voice weak and subdued.
“I know.” Devon gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “You’re going to be okay.” God, it was horrible seeing her this way. Her mother never looked fully alert. Her eyes always seemed cloudy and could sometimes be disturbingly vacant. But she was never groggy or physically weak. Right then, Pamela looked like she’d had the life sucked out of her.
Pamela squinted, eyes dancing from object to object. Confusion marred her features, and it was clear she didn’t know where she was or why she was there. “Who’s the man by the door? Don’t recognize him,” she slurred.
“That’s Tanner Cole. He’s my mate.”
“Mate,” Pamela quietly echoed, but it was like the word didn’t really penetrate in her mind because she didn’t otherwise react. “Do you remember when we went sailing with Beck and Richie? You were four, I think. It was a beautiful day. You were convinced you saw a whale.”
A faint nostalgic smile crept onto Devon’s face. “I remember.”
“Beck stopped the boat at a cove. It was all dark and shiny and magical. He told you to throw a coin into the little spring there and make a wish. You made a wish that I’d get better.” Her eyes drifted shut, and she forced them open. “I tried, you know. Tried over and over. Never could make your wish come true, though.”
Devon’s throat thickened. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not.” Her eyes slid to Tanner. “My girl’s special.”
“I know,” he said.
“You treat her like she’s special.” Her eyes involuntarily drifted shut again. “I would’ve done it, but I couldn’t.”
“Sleep now,” Devon whispered. “You need it.”
“You’ll come back?” she asked, eyes still closed, sounding half-asleep.
“I’ll come back.”
Once Pamela had drifted off to sleep, Devon slipped out of the room and took a deep breath. “I’m gonna kill the fucker for this, Tanner. Blood relative or not, I’ll fucking kill them.”