Before she managed to make it out of the room though, she felt a vice-like grip chomping down around her arm. With a gasp, she spun around to face her attacker, finding the stern, obviously irritated form of one of her guards staring back at her.
"I've got her," he spoke into the headset, before returning his attention to her. "Where were you?"
"I was in the ladies' room," Meredith said, trying her best to look indignant. "What, am I not allowed to pee anymore without werewolf supervision?"
"Watch the attitude, honey. I don't think I need to remind you that it's not only you who is in danger of losing a few good years here if you mouth out. Come on, they're waiting for you," he said, his voice barely more than a snarl as he yanked Meredith along with him.
Glancing over her shoulder, the last thing she saw was Dice standing across the room, looking like his gaze alone could make the gates of hell open up and gobble up the whole party.
We're both going to make it through this. I know we will.
But that was another thing she couldn't entirely believe.
Fourteen
Meredith
Meredith realized how loud the din of the party had been when she finally stepped out of the rooms it was being held in. A few hundred ultra-rich patrons could apparently make a hell of a racket.
As the automatic doors closed behind Meredith, now escorted by two of her guards, the sudden silence was deafening in a way. She was led through the large, sprawling suite and up a spiral staircase to the second floor of it. Everywhere she looked, she could see opulence, wealth and obvious signs of money.
From the paintings on the walls to the Italian marble floors, everything was perfect. Too perfect. It was almost clinical in its grandeur and all Meredith could feel when looking around was how cold it made her feel.
She could hear the low humming of voices coming from up ahead, distinctly male. When she was shown into a large sitting room, once again overlooking Abu Dhabi and with a partial view of Etihad Tower number two, whatever had been left of the ease she'd felt with Dice was wiped away immediately. Julian Rowen was there, along with two other men, laughing and conversing amongst themselves.
They didn't even seem to notice her enter, though they clearly only made it seem that way as the doors opening and closing were loud enough. Four guards were posted outside the front door, the glass walls providing a clear view of them, decked out in full gear. When she'd passed them by, she'd seen them sniffing her as if she was a discarded bone, only to turn their noses up at her.
Fucking werewolves, she thought mildly.
"Leave us," Julian said, his tone perfectly pleasant.
The guards did as they were told and Meredith was left alone with the man of her nightmares, and two others who seemed to watch her with little more than passing interest.
"Gentlemen, this is Meredith Wilder. You're both acquainted with her work, I'm sure. She's been a little bit of a diamond in the rough for us but I think we've made some progress in making her shine lately," Julian said with a chuckle, sloshing vodka around in tight circles in his glass. "Meredith, these are Doctors Pasterne and Arville. They're representatives from the Research Control Committee."
"Julian has told us so much about you," Arville said with a grin that lacked emotion, straightening his wire-rimmed glasses.
Both of the men were dressed in fine, but understated suits, making them pale next to Julian.
"Gentlemen," Meredith offered with a nod of her head.
It was an uphill battle, reminding herself that she was supposed to be behaving with these people, that she was supposed to be respectful. When the most prevalent desire in her mind was to break the champagne flute she was holding and gouge out the eyes of every single man there, it was sort of hard to keep her cool.
"Please, take a seat," the man introduced as Pasterne noted, leading her to a set of sandy leather couches and chairs.
She picked a seat and sunk down, feeling all the more vulnerable now that she was off her feet. The men followed one by one, keeping careful distances between one another. Julian sat down across from Meredith, resting his chin on his palm and observing her with evident bemusement.
"Have you been enjoying the party so far?" Pasterne asked, apparently keen on keeping up some modicum of decorum through small-talk.
As if you care, she thought sourly.
"Yes. It's been very … uplifting," Meredith said, a genuine smile sneaking over her lips as she thought of her stolen moment with Dice.
"That's the kind of spirit we like around here," Julian said with a chuckle. "Isn't that right, gentlemen?"
Both Arville and Pasterne nodded.
Her smile wavered but she held firm, taking a little sip from her glass and looking between the men expectantly.
Whatever it is they want, I need to be able to give it to them. For both of my boys.
"So how can I help you gentlemen today?" she asked.
"Straight to the point. How nice. Usually they break into tears within a few words," Arville said with a chuckle, joined in by Pasterne. "But if you're being so forthcoming, then we shall be as well. Meredith, we've been going over your work now for a while and some things simply don't add up."
"What do you mean? I keep meticulous notes, at least I hope I do," Meredith said, the smile dropping from her expression.
It was an all-out lie. She kept careful notes, yes, but she always fuddled up this or that to keep anyone from being able to replicate her results. By the look the men shared between them, Meredith got the sinking feeling that she'd been found out.
"You see, Meredith, when we find that one of our scientists has come up with something that looks particularly promising, we start doing regression tests on their work. What this means is that we take their newest research and then see if it holds up by doing it again in another lab. I'm sure I do not need to explain to you why this would be wise or necessary for the scientific process."
Meredith could only nod numbly, her hands clutching the glass tightly once more.
"So when we took an interest in your work, we discovered that it seems that your notes and your outcomes don't quite add up. Do you want to explain to us why that is, Meredith?" Pasterne asked, quirking a brow at her.
Meredith opened her mouth, feeling like a deer caught in the headlights, but nothing came out. She cleared her throat and tried again, this time mustering her courage. She knew that this day would one day come, even if she had been hoping that the people who worked for The Arctics on the science side were as dumb as their guards.
Her hopes had proven to be unfounded, unfortunately.
"Well, I would have to look at the particular test you were running, I imagine. I can't say that there isn't a chance that I left something out of the notes by accident, but this is certainly not something that I've meant to do. You must believe me on that. I know how important it is for me to remain transparent with my work."
She quieted, feeling herself paling.
Rowen's gaze stayed on her and he observed her like a snake would a little rabbit, preparing to strike. She wanted to wither away from that deathly pair of eyes, but she couldn't show them weakness.
"I don't think it's a case of a missing word or a formula here or there. Your formulas are always methodical and exact, but the combination in which they need to be administered has not once given us the results that you have described. Now, having seen the test subjects you've worked on and having run tests on them, I am aware that your results are true. I simply think you are lying to us, Meredith," Rowen said, tilting his head to the side slightly. "Are you, Meredith? Are you lying to us? I don't like being lied to."
That sinking feeling got all the more prevalent with each word Julian Rowen spoke. Taking a breath, Meredith tried to force herself back to that moment with Dice just half an hour ago, when she had felt so safe and protected, both emotionally and physically.
"I would never lie. I don't want anything to happen to my son," she said, a clearly audible tremor in her voice now.
"That's right. We have your baby boy," Rowen said with a sudden smirk, as if he only then remembered it. "It would be a shame if something happened to that boy. So much potential! Shame he's a bear, though. He would have made for a good foot soldier. How did that happen, by the way? How did you manage to get pregnant from a werebear when you've been held by The Arctics for six years now?"