“Callum.”
“She’s not lying,” Ryon told him and Callum didn’t know what to do with that information. It proved she wasn’t playing a game and further provided unwelcome information that his mate had a rare blood disorder that, if untreated, could lead to an agonizing death.
Something about this rattled him in a way he never felt before in his entire life.
“Have a man bring it to the cabin,” Callum ordered and he watched Sonia’s shoulders fall as her head tipped back and she looked at the ceiling with closed eyes and extreme relief washing over her face.
Fucking hell, if he’d called her bluff, he’d have killed her.
That rattled him further.
“I even talked to her doctor,” Ryon, always thorough, said in his ear as Sonia tramped to the kitchen and started to yank things from the fridge and cupboards. “She’s got a rare blood disorder. Never heard of it, it’s about seventeen syllables long. Inherited it from her father,” Ryon’s voice lowered. “It’s nasty, Cal. She could die from it.”
“How did you miss this?” Callum clipped.
Ryon chuckled and Callum’s hackles rose. “Mac, and you, I’ll remind you, forbid any of the brothers spying on her when she was inside her house. Follow her to stores. Monitor her purchases and expenses. Go through her trash but you never let us go through her house or watch her in it. She visited the doctor regularly but medical records are confidential, which, by the way, meant I had to talk fast to get the doctor to tell me anything. She has a monthly prescription for birth control, which we knew about from a light hack into her records some time ago. She picked those up monthly from her doc along with the injections we didn’t know about. But this disease she’s had since birth. The hack Caleb just did uncovered it but we had to go back years and, even so, it was buried, almost like it was hidden. The information about her condition and the prescription for the injections was protected behind so many passwords even Caleb had trouble unlocking it.”
Even though this made sense, Callum didn’t like it.
Not only that they missed it, and in missing it could have killed her, but also the fact that it made him feel a strange sense of unease that the information was hidden, protected, secret. Medical records were confidential but why would this life-threatening condition be guarded so thoroughly? In case of an emergency, wouldn’t that information need to be readily available?
His eyes moved to Sonia and at what he saw, he let go of the disquiet he felt. Right then, he had more important things to deal with.
“Is it snowing down there?” Callum asked.
“Flurries,” Ryon answered.
“It’s not flurries up here. The man you sent may need a snow mobile or an ATV, but, whatever it takes, he gets that medication here by tonight. Is that understood?”
“I talked to the doctor, Cal. I know how important this is,” Ryon returned calmly. “I sent Waring. He knows this is priority and it’s for the queen. He’s a good man. He’ll be there with the meds.”
Callum felt his body go stiff. “Does he know –?”
“Cal, don’t ask that question,” Ryon broke in softly. “He doesn’t know what’s in the parcel just that the queen requested it.”
Ryon, Callum knew, would never expose Sonia’s weakness. Only the inner circle (that would be Callum, Ryon and Callum’s blood brothers, Caleb and Calder) would know of this latest development.
Callum changed the subject. “Any more on the plot?”
“We’re widening the net.”
“I want regular reports.”
“You’ll get them.”
“Later,” Callum muttered.
“Good luck,” Ryon replied, his voice filled with humor, his overhearing the conversation between Callum and Sonia telling the tale.
Callum didn’t reply. He snapped the phone shut.
Sonia was preparing lunch which looked as if it consisted of an enormous salad and nothing else.
No, actually, Sonia looked like she was punishing the vegetables that would soon be their lunch if her frenzied use of the knife was anything to go by.
Callum shoved the phone in his back pocket, slid off the stool and rounded the counter making his way toward her.
He got within feet when she whirled and lifted the knife, not to brandish it at him, to point it at him.
“Don’t you get near me,” she snapped, jerking the knife at him on the word “you”. Then she turned back to the carrot she was annihilating and kept chopping. “You could have killed me.”
“I’m aware of that, little one,” he replied, forcing his voice to be soft.