Chapter 26
I look on in awe as Stan begins to squirm beneath this unknown woman’s attention.
“She fell,” is all Stan says, gruffly, his eyes trained on the ground.
“How magnanimous of you to keep insisting on checking in with Ms. Addison despite our numerous assurances that we are more than capable of seeing to her wellbeing,” the woman replies, her voice carrying an attractive Australian accent, her tone as smooth and frigid as an icicle.
Stan’s chest puffs up as he balks at being chastised. “You don’t understand, she’s a liar, Lily—”
“Director St. Cloud,” the woman corrects him. “This is a research facility – my research facility. I’m sure you understand the importance of maintaining protocol.”
Stan lets out a choked laugh, his eyes narrowing with barely contained rage. “Then, I’m telling you, you need to keep an eye on this one,” he says, pointing at me. “She’s a snake, and an immoral one at that. When I tell you what she’s done—”
“Funnily enough, science and morality have never gone hand-in-hand,” Director St. Cloud says, finally turning to acknowledge my presence. Her gaze is piercing, and I feel my cheeks begin to heat. “And trust that I know everything Ms. Addison’s gotten up to since stepping foot on my island.”
I swallow hard, trying to keep my voice steady. “Look, I know that there isn’t an adequate way to explain what occurred between myself and Wake, and so I won’t waste time trying,” I say in a rush. “But, I do need you to know that it was not my intention for any of that to happen.”
“Actually, I would like an explanation. In detail, please,” Director Lily St. Cloud gives me an unexpected grin as she cocks an eyebrow. “Also, how much money will convince you to do it again?”
My mouth opens and closes, words failing me. “I... I don’t understand,” I stammer.
“Let’s be clear, Ms. Addison,” she says, her tone cold and businesslike. “We are studying Wake. His behavior, his abilities, his interactions with humans. Your... unique relationship with him provides invaluable data. We’re willing to compensate you for your cooperation.”
“I don’t need to be compensated. Not for…” I trailed off when my throat went dry. I’m happy to continue dancing around the reality of my relationship with Wake for as long as she allows me to. “What exactly do you think I can help you with?”
Director St. Cloud lets out a dainty sigh. “Initially, we’d simply hoped that you would be able to act as a calming presence for… Wake, was it? We had recruited Dr. Wilcox to head our study of this particular specimen, but unfortunately, it seems we failed to account for Dr. Wilcox’s bedside manner.”
I nod as Stan glowers. “Wake doesn’t trust humans.”
She cocks her head to one side, “Did he tell you that?”
“He didn’t have to. He’s incredibly aggressive,” I point out.
“But not to you?”
I shrug, fighting the urge to start squirming myself. “I suppose that’s up for debate. What matters is that he tolerates my presence.”
“What matters is that he speaks to you.” The Director’s intensity grows as she takes a step in my direction, “Do you understand how vital that is to our mission?”
“Your mission which is…”
“To understand everything we can about the alien species living in our very own oceans. Now that we know of their existence, there is no going back. Some of us would prefer our first conversations with them not be held at the end of a nuclear warhead.”
“And you think Wave can, what, be your ambassador?” I ask.
“That’s just the thing,” she counters. “I don’t know what Wave is capable of. And, in the spirit of transparency, his temperament leaves much to be desired. However, if there were a reason behind his behavior and a way to ensure his cooperation, sentiments might begin to change.”
My mouth opens, but nothing comes out. I swallow hard and try again, “And what precicely do you think is the reason for Wake’s behavior?”
She gives me an assessing look, as if searching me for a tell. “When was your last menstrual cycle?”
“I’m sorry, I don't see how that's at all relevant…” Except that I do, “I'm ovulating.”
The Director gives me an indulging grin. “A rutting male and a woman in heat meet one another in the Tasman Sea. Most would call that a recipe for disaster. I consider it a once in a lifetime opportunity.”
A coincidence. Could that really be all this was? My life will never be the same, and it was all because I just so happened to be the first thing with a viable uterus to wander into Wake's territory?
“My hormones…pheromones, whatever, triggered his instinct to procreate,” I whisper. My stomach twisting, my fingers absentmindedly brush the transcriptor around my wrist. Mate. It had never been me he was referring to, only his own biological need.
Stan was right. I was fanciful and insipid and I would never live this down, but Director St. Cloud was right, too. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, a one in a million chance to lead the charge on one of the greatest scientific breakthroughs there ever was and probably ever would be.
“I’ll do it,” I whisper.
The Director’s cherry red lips curl into a slow grin, “I knew you’d come around to my way of seeing things.”
Her smug tone unsettles me, and I promise myself that, no matter what, I won't go into this completely blind. “What exactly do you expect me to do to help reign in Wake?” I ask, allowing an edge of skepticism to bleed into my voice.
“Whatever you need to,” she replies simply, her eyes never leaving mine.
She seems so confident, when I feel anything but. I don't like the idea of whatever transpires between Wake and me being put on display, for strangers to pick apart and analyze, but it comes with the territory. This thing between Wake and me isn't a courtship, it's a lab experiment.
I suck in a breath at the unexpected pang in my chest. I feel as if I'm belittling something sacred, but that's precisely the part of myself that I need to drown out. I’m more than just some silly girl chasing fairytales. I’m a scientist, and right now, I'm the only one who can secure the answers we're looking for.
I square my shoulders and meet her gaze. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”
Director St. Cloud steps closer, lifting my chin with her fingers, turning my face left and right, studying me like a specimen under a microscope. Perhaps that's exactly what I am to her, just another part of the experiment. I tell myself that I don't care about how she sees me, just the access she can grant me – to Wake, and to his secrets.
“I see a lot of myself in you, Phoebe,” she says approvingly. “A voracious hunger for the truth. Stick to the plan, and I'll take your career to places beyond your wildest imagination.”
“Like fucking hell you will!” Stan, who had been glaring at me from the corner, suddenly bursts into motion, grabbing a side table in a fit of rage and smashing it to pieces against a wall. I jump, but Director St. Cloud doesn't so much as flinch, even when Stan begins stalking toward us, his entire body vibrating with rage.
“Like hell will I let you turn her into that tadpole’s fucking plaything!”
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