Accidental Surrogate for Alpha

Chapter 320

#Chapter 320 – The Archive

Cora

That evening, our car rumbles down the road towards the archive, Roger steady at the wheel. Another car with two guards follows behind us, keeping a steady eye out for anything strange. I sigh, already exhausted, even though I got more sleep than Ella or Roger or Sinclair last night. Still it wasn’t exactly a peaceful sleep – and then today, with the sketch artist…

I stare down at a copy of the sketch in my lap, at the face of the man I didn’t realize had been haunting my dreams. To be able to see him put on paper like this – it’s…it’s like staring at the ghost you didn’t know was haunting you. A little shiver passes through me and I neatly fold the page, placing it in the cup holder next to me, not wanting it in my hands anymore.

“You all right?” Roger asks, glancing over at me.

“Yeah,” I say, sighing again, my eyes on the road. “How long until we get there?”

“About two more hours,” he replies evenly, nodding towards the GPS system running on his phone. “We’re lucky that they’re staying open late for us.”

“We’re not lucky,” I murmur, leaning down to tug at the bottom of the jeans that Ella loaned to me which are, predictably, too short. “Sinclair is rich. Anyone will stay open that late in exchange for an insane donation.”

Roger smirks, glancing at me, but doesn’t reply. Because he knows I’m right.

I feel my phone buzz then, tucked under my thigh, and I pull it out, unlocking it and looking at the

new message on my screen.

Hank: It’s okay, I totally understand. I’m glad the baby is okay. Don’t worry about the clinic – I can hold it down for as long as you need. Have fun? Is that the right sentiment for a trip to an obscure shifter archive?

I smile, laughing a little inwardly at his joke. No, fun was not precisely the word I’d choose either, not for this trip. My smile falls, though, when another message pops onto the screen.

Hank: I miss you.

back under my leg. I look

was that?” he asks, smug. I

I murmur, turning

he quips, needling me.

turn to send a little glare his way. “It wasn’t

smirking now. But he lets it drop. It’s enough for him, I guess, to let me know that he knows. I sigh, closing my eyes and letting my head rest back against my seat, my

wanders to Hank, and I think of him seeing patients alone in our little

was it only last night? – when I’d pulled him half dressed into my bedroom, gasping for

stuff

stuff. Great stuff, even.

can’t I text him back and tell him that I miss him

things. I listen to the steady hum of the car, to the very, very faint sound of Roger

wonder if that makes me just….incredibly cruel. I sigh, kind of hating myself

touch of a hand on my shoulder. I gasp, spinning, to see

smirk. “That’s how you woke me up

“Are we here?” The car is parked but still running, the windshield wipers

you ready to go in? Do

a mental inventory of myself.

left uninvestigated, for

I say, turning a sunny smile Roger’s way. He blinks a little bit, perhaps surprised to see it.‘ Did you hear anything from Ella and

car and unbuckling his seatbelt. “I heard from them,” he says, “but nothing of note. All is well at home. If we’re lucky, we can do

frown at him over the roof. “But then you won’t have slept at all, for twenty–four hours,” I

me, baby,” he says. “I’ve got stamina.”

thought echoing in my mind is…I

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