Accidental Surrogate

Chapter 319: The Archive 

Cora

That evening, our car rumbles down the road towards the archive, Roger steady at the wheel. Another car with two guards follows behind us, keeping a steady eye out for anything strange. I sigh, already exhausted, even though I got more sleep than Ella or Roger or Sinclair last night. Still it wasn’t exactly a peaceful sleep – and then today, with the sketch artist…

I stare down at a copy of the sketch in my lap, at the face of the man I didn’t realize had been haunting my dreams. To be able to see him put on paper like this – it’s…it’s like staring at the ghost you didn’t know was haunting you. A little shiver passes through me and I neatly fold the page, placing it in the cup holder next to me, not wanting it in my hands anymore.

“You all right?” Roger asks, glancing over at me.

“Yeah,” I say, sighing again, my eyes on the road. “How long until we get there?”

“About two more hours,” he replies evenly, nodding towards the GPS system running on his phone. “We’re lucky that they’re staying open late for us.”

“We’re not lucky,” I murmur, leaning down to tug at the bottom of the jeans that Ella loaned to me which are, predictably, too short. “Sinclair is rich. Anyone will stay open that late in exchange for an insane donation.”

Roger smirks, glancing at me, but doesn’t reply. Because he knows I’m right.

I feel my phone buzz then, tucked under my thigh, and I pull it out, unlocking it and looking at the

new message on my screen.

Hank: It’s okay, I totally understand. I’m glad the baby is okay. Don’t worry about the clinic – I can hold it down for as long as you need. Have fun? Is that the right sentiment for a trip to an obscure shifter archive?

I smile, laughing a little inwardly at his joke. No, fun was not precisely the word I’d choose either, not for this trip. My smile falls, though, when another message pops onto the screen.

miss

the phone back under my leg. I look back to

smug. I know,

I murmur,

Ella?” he

to send a little glare his way. “It

I guess, to let me know that he knows. I sigh, closing my eyes and

mind wanders to Hank, and I think of him seeing patients alone in our little clinic all

– when I’d pulled him half dressed into my bedroom, gasping for him, and let him

stuff happened.

Great stuff, even.

why can’t I text him back and tell him that

to the very, very

to sleep, I wonder if that makes me just….incredibly cruel. I sigh, kind of hating myself right now, but not knowing what to do about it.

of a hand on my shoulder. I gasp, spinning, to see Roger looking at me

eye,” he says, giving me a warm little smirk. “That’s how you woke me

eye sleepily and looking around in the dark. “Are we here?” The car is parked but still running, the windshield wipers slowly moving

says. “Are you ready to go in? Do

mental inventory of myself. Body? Stiff,

left uninvestigated, for the moment.

turning a sunny smile Roger’s way. He blinks a little bit, perhaps

them,” he says, “but nothing of note. All is well at home.

frown at him over the roof. “But then you won’t have slept

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