Page 69 of Crimson Moon Falling

The authentication was holding against the Central Federal Government’s attempts to spin the story or discredit the documentation. So far.

He and Ash sat in his office that evening, reading the most relevant news articles. “Normals are more upset and scared about being turned into a Cognizant than they are about the facilities or the experiments. It’s a sad commentary.”

Conall nodded. “It was the prejudice and fear that tipped the scales.”

His phone buzzed with a text from Riley as Ash said good night.

Riley: We’re watching the news. Nice work with the Pack Council. How’s your Packhouse in Springdale looking?

Conall: It’s “our” Packhouse. Nice, but empty without you. Be safe and come home soon

Riley: Working on it. Be safe too

He wanted to call her, but she was probably exhausted, and the bungalow was full of supernaturals with heightened hearing.

His wolf whined, and a hollow feeling spread in his chest.

Chapter 21

Riley

Parker and I sat on the lumpy couch watching the same news segment loop for the third time. The reporter’s voice had that measured gravity saved for serious news stories.

On screen, the bunker photos and videos we’d taken on our cellphones scrolled by. The crates with their Apollo Genetics logos. The mineral-encrusted geyser shaft. The maps.

“Several senators are calling for a full congressional investigation into both Apollo Genetics and Apex Mentis, although both entities are denying any involvement…”

Gunnar grunted from the reclining chair. His massive frame didn’t fit the furniture, but he refused to stay at home, or even in his bed, to recuperate.

“They’re gonna try and bury it,” he muttered. “Just watch. They’ll spin this story fifty ways, and by this time next week, the news cycle will be onto the next government scandal.”

Freda leaned against the kitchen counter, her dark eyebrows knit as she stared at the screen. “As long as the shifter registration legislation doesn’t pass, I’ll call it a win.”

None of the news stories mentioned the registration law already in place for Cogs like me, or Malcolm’s death. The implant droned on, a steady, cold pulse that kept my anger and grief at bay. The chip had already processed that it was statistically probable at least one of us was going to die. I hated it for its cold efficiency.

Gunnar’s phone rang, and he glanced down at his screen and shrugged. “It’s Fergus.” He didn’t answer, and a few seconds later, my phone started ringing.

I raised an eyebrow and stared at my partner as I took the call, putting it on speaker. “Blackthorne, I need that damn status report,” Fergus demanded. “The higher-ups are breathing down my neck since the news broke. Your names haven’t come up yet, but it’s only a matter of time.”

“We’re still working our case, sir. We’ve identified a few more leads on Viggo’s disappearance. But nothing concrete yet.”

“What kind of leads?”

“We spoke with some of his colleagues and a few people in Afton.” I narrowed my eyes at Gunnar. “We’re making progress.”

“Be specific, Blackthorne.”

Gunnar leaned toward the phone. “We found a potential lead on his location, but it led us to Mary Mountain, and you know what happened there. We’ve been distracted trying to stay alive since then.”

Fergus was quiet for a beat. I could picture him at his desk, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Are you supposed to be out of the hospital?”

Gunnar rolled his eyes. “That place is where people go to get an infection or be woken up five times a night. I’ll recover better here with Riley.”

“Fine, but keep me updated, damn it. And for the love of god, please don’t start another national incident.” The line went dead.

Parker smirked. “Little late for that.”

Freda stalked over and picked up the remote to turn up the volume. “You need to watch this.” A new segment had started, and the banner at the bottom of the screen read LIVE: GENERAL WILSON ADDRESSES ALLEGATIONS.