“He stayed in the records room for the longest,” Chris said, “always keeping his face turned away from the camera.” The video sped up, showing the immortal pulling out this drawer or that and removing file folders.
Seth leaned forward and planted his hands on David’s desk. “He isn’t even trying to hide his presence. If he were, he would be doing all of this at preternatural speeds to avoid being videotaped or having it show up on the security monitors.”
“He didn’t have to,” Chris said. “None of the guards have any recollection of encountering him. None saw anything unusual on the surveillance cameras. So none of us would have ever looked at this footage twice if Cliff hadn’t stolen the tracking devices.”
Zach caught Seth’s eye. “Mind control? Memory wipes?”
“Had to be either one or the other.”
The figure returned to the first floor and traveled down a hallway Zach hadn’t seen before, all of Zach’s visits having taken him below. The figure waved a hand, bypassing security locks each time he encountered them, and ultimately entered a swanky, modern office.
“Where is he now?” Zach asked.
“My office,” Chris said, his jaw clenching. “He must have known where all of the other cameras were located by reading the guards’ minds because he missed a couple here. There are hidden cameras in my office that only I know about.”
The immortal crossed to a row of tall file cabinets that lined one wall and began to draw out files. Upon finding whatever he sought, he turned and leaned a shoulder against the cabinets while he perused the papers.
Whatever camera Chris had hidden caught a perfect image of the immortal’s face.
“Aidan,” Seth said.
David swore.
Chris eyed them with sympathy. “Looks like we’ve found your traitor.”
“I don’t understand,” Seth muttered. “All this because I wouldn’t transfer him to North Carolina? I know I told Lisette it was possible, but . . .”
Brooding silence.
“You already knew he was hiding something from you,” Zach mentioned.
“Lisette was hiding something from me, too, and look how badly I misjudged her.” Seth straightened. “I don’t want to make the same mistake twice.” He looked at Zach. “Or thrice. I misjudged you, as well.”
Zach snorted. “I don’t count. Even I would have suspected me.”
“I sure as hell did,” David added.
Seth shook his head. “Aidan is damned near as even-tempered as David. It just seems out of character for him to . . . to do something so heinous.”
Chris motioned to the laptop. “The proof is indisputable. If memory wipes damage brains, he just damaged the brains of several of my men to keep them from remembering his little visit.” And Chris was pissed.
“If Aidan feels I’ve wronged him,” Seth demanded, “why not come after me? Why endanger all Immortal Guardians by raising this vampire army?”
“Because he knows your weakness,” David murmured. “We all know your weakness.”
Seth turned to him.
David’s expression gentled. “Everyone knows the surest way to hurt you is to harm one of your Immortal Guardians.”
“One of my Immortal Guardians. This threatens you all. This threatens humans, as well. If vampires were to gain the upper hand . . .”
He didn’t have to finish.
“Has any immortal ever gone crazy from too much solitude?” Chris asked.
Seth shook his head. “Never. One of the reasons I started assigning Seconds to immortals in the first place, aside from knowing they needed someone to guard them and take care of business for them during daylight hours, was to keep immortals from leading too solitary an existence. I wanted them to have friends and companions to help keep the loneliness at bay.”
Roland spoke in the infirmary. “I went hundreds of years without having a Second, and I didn’t go crazy.” He must have been listening. “But there’s a big difference between insanity and bitterness. Bitterness can spawn a madness all its own . . . as you well know, Seth, having walked me back from that edge a few times over the centuries.”
Seth closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Zach.”
“What?”
“Can you capture Aidan and incarcerate him at network headquarters?”
“Yes.”
“On your own?”
“Yes.”
“Without killing him?”
“If I must.”
“Then do it. If I did it myself and he were to fight me . . .” He sighed. “I don’t have as much control over my powers when I’m this weary and don’t want to inadvertently kill him before I can interrogate him.”