ten

"Mr Stone," I said, following the Beast out into the hallway. "Nathanial Stone – returned to the land of the living. She never told me you were … recovered."

He had gone into what turned out to be a kitchen, and was getting a bottle from the fridge – an action he paused to cast me a sardonic look over his shoulder. "What a highly meaningful hesitation."

There were a lot of things I could have said, and wouldn't have hesitated to do so when he had still been just the Beast. But now he was someone I already had a relationship with, I was stuck with only the things I could have said to the tall, dark, and stoic head of security. Nathaniel Stone, who never would have shoved me up against a wall and told me I was crazy, and whom I never would have accused of assault and being a dick.

"How long have you been awake? Last I heard you were still in a coma at Mercy."

His eyebrow twitched like he wanted to make something of my being polite but he replied seriously enough, "Three months ago, just as the lawsuit came up. For obvious reasons, my recovery wasn't announced and there was no general rejoicing."

"What happened?"

"Investigating a break-in at the labs and got shot in the shoulder, managed to land on something biomolecular I'm sure I have no chance of understanding the particulars of."

"They must be looking for a reverse switch."

"Yeah, since they realised what was happening. You weren't told any of this?" he asked, concentrating on twisting the cap of the water bottle dwarfed between his massive fingers.

I wrapped my arms around my middle. "It's most likely a need-to-know situation. I'm not an expert in biomolecular anything."

"Did Ngaio have any reason not to trust you with the information?" He took a swig of water but his eyes remained trained on me beneath lowered lids. It was a fairly large leap of logic to make, but it's security's job to be suspicious, right? Nothing personal.

"None that I know of."

"And would she have the same amount of trust for Sylvia Avery?"

"Technically no."

"And if we weren't being technical about it?"

"Then, yes. I have Ngaio's trust and her approval. If she didn't happen to tell me about you it was because I was too busy with the rest of the crap hitting the fan to be bothered with this –" I forced myself to stop and take a deep, diplomatic breath, "very serious affair."

"The day after she went missing, a memo was issued saying Ngaio had gone on an unscheduled sabbatical for her health." Why did he bother swirling the damn water bottle around oh so casually, idly speculating? It wasn't like he was fooling anyone.

"The last thing Hart share prices needed right now was the knowledge that the CEO is missing presumed who-the-hell-knows. I issued the memo, wasn't exactly hiding my tracks about it."

"With what authority? You were Ngaio's personal assistant – you kept her diary and picked up dry cleaning."

"I am Ngaio's personal assistant, and I find your trivialisation of my job to be demeaning."

"So report me to HR. Tell them how the guy in the coma managed to harass you despite the ocean that's between here and where you're supposed to be."

I swallowed back a retort. Hard. "Mr Stone, while you haven't actually told me the reason why you felt it necessary to drag me over here, one presumes it has something to do with working together, so perhaps you could try be a little less antagonistic."

He laughed, the asshat. "Ms St James, I dragged you in because you're an unknown agency I can't account for in a position that could seriously screw over my recovery of Ngaio Wishart."

"What?"

"I'm detaining you until further notice."

"Bullshit. You can't do that."

"You're welcome to try the door but I think you'll find the security beyond even your clever fingertips."

That needed checking. I spun on my heel and went back to the front door. Next to it was an i-panel model way flasher than should have been installed in a Roslyn apartment. "You lock yourself in? What if a fire happens? This is a health and safety hazard." The Beast had followed me – definitely the Beast again – and I turned on him. "This is ridiculous. We've worked together five years; you know me."

"No, I know Corinth St James, vaguely, as Ngaio Wishart's cool, polite shadow who only really attracted my attention when she ran interference for the old lady. You're Katie King and Sylvia Avery, and Emere Leitch-Munroe to get through the east gate, and if I'm not mistaken you could only access Ngaio's personal computer if you have her fingerprint on you as well. You're a hot mess."

"Ngaio trusted me to have that kind of access; that should be good enough for you."

He loomed, pressing my back against the door. It had been almost chilly without his constant space-invading. "Ngaio Wishart was abducted professionally, with barely a trace. I can't rule out the possibility of a mole and guess who showed up where she wasn't meant to with a face that wasn't her own?"

"Fine. Sam," I called over the Beast's hulking shoulder.

She poked her head around the frame of the control room door, a little too quickly to have been doing anything other than listening in but that's what I had been betting on. It wasn't like we'd been moderating our volume. "Yes?"

"You've pulled up all of Corinth St James' personnel files," I said not taking my eyes off his.

"Yes."

"Including restricted records of day surgeries at Mercy."

"Yep."

"Then would you mind telling Mr Stone why having multiple personalities does not me a mole make. Why his accusations are specious, unfounded, and insulting to both myself and Mrs Wishart."

"Right, yeah. I see it." The Beast shifted all that razor-sharp focus onto her. "Sorry, man. Getting fingerprints replaced is not cheap – records show it was the old lady footing the bills."

"And for the fingerprint gels that let me get through airport security when Ngaio sends me out of the country." Because I was the better person I didn't pat his arm in a conciliatory manner. "You may think my behaviour suspicious but it's suspiciousness Ngaio sanctioned and financed. That we're looking for a mole is not, I think, out of the realms of possibility but there's no point looking in my direction. I owe Ngaio Wishart my life." Before he could make any comment I stuck out my hand. "Now, can we work together, or do I need to seduce Sam into letting me out of your little batcave?"

He looked at my hand like it might bite him but, ignoring Sam's comments that she was totally okay with attempted seduction, he took it and shook once.

"For now, St James."

"Hardly expected otherwise. Distrust becomes you."

"If that's done," said Sam, and the Beast dropped my hand like a hot coal, "there's some things I want to show you."

Yes, these chapter are basically written by me sticking the two of them in a room together and they talk until there seems to be a natural pause. But I again did the not replying-to-reviews thing and I'm sorry because I literally have a thing on my profile saying I hate it when writers do that. If you want to chat about it then do something and I will try my best to be personable and charming and drop hints and answer questions in a frustratingly vague manner.