Page 51 of Born Wicked

Guess no matter how hard they tried to make things better—different—in the end, this city is nearly just the same. I’ve witnessed Roman’s brutality when others break the rules, putting the other residents in danger. I’ve watched the gifted look to Sigrid for advice. Mason and Elena employ dozens of vampires to keep them as functioning members of society.

I might not have any kind of Royal title. We might not be divided into Houses. But we have clear divisions and purposes. Employment. The gifted. Security. Health and blood.

Are we any different from those monsters Jon just told us about?

I don’t feel the cold, but I do feel the tingle as my skin warms back up when I step through the doors to the hospital. It’s quiet in here. The majority of the employees have gone home for the day. It’s a minimal crew of doctors and nurses keeping everyone alive and assisting through the dark hours of the night. There’s something comforting about being wrapped in quiet in a place that is normally busy. I walk down the hall to my office, not bothering to close the door behind me because who is around to disturb me?

Sinking into my chair at my desk, I pull the daily report toward me.

Every day, the lab is testing things. We’re still desperately looking for a solution, a way to wake the vampires up. A way to restore what was frozen in the gifted. I think in a few days, we’ll have a clear picture of how this happened.

But fixing it?

I let out a sigh, combing my fingers back through my hair. It’s been a damn stressful day. I’d really like to go home and sink into that amazing bathtub and tune out the world.

Instead, I spin in my chair and take two bags of blood from the minifridge in the corner. I down the first, though, to be honest, it tastes revolting. I’d really like something fresh, it feels like it’s been forever. But after witnessing what just happened with Mason and that Bitten... I don’t know if I’ll drink fresh ever again. Is the risk really worth it?

I spin in my seat and scoot back to the desk, downing the second bag. My brows furrow in surprise and confusion when the phone on my desk begins ringing.

It’s the middle of the night. No one is at reception directing calls. The only way this phone would be ringing is if someone knew my direct extension.

Knowing it can only be bad news, I reach for the phone and press it to my ear. “This is Dr. Doe.”

“Juliet.”

Every one of my insides and all of my blood disappears in an instant.

“Sebastian.”

There are four long, heavy seconds where neither of us says a word. I hear him breathe, and he listens to the sounds of my own breath.

After everything that has happened between us, what is either of us supposed to say?

“I don’t regret what I did,” he begins, and his first chosen words instantly knot my stomach. “I did what I thought was best, what I thought was most necessary to protect you. But I do regret that it made you hate me. And that my choices are still hurting you.”

It’s all it takes, and it speaks to how much I did love this man. Emotions instantly well in my throat, and tears burn the backs of my eyes.

“Your actions hurt a lot of people, Sebastian,” I point out. “Elena, Sigrid, dozens of others. And now Roman is in jail because the new Superintendent thinks he killed you, that the two of us were having an affair.”

The silence from Sebastian speaks volumes.

“I never looked at Roman that way,” I say, hating that I feel like I have to defend myself to this man. “We were never anything but enemies until you did what you did. He gave me an out. And there was never, ever anything more.”

There are two more beats of silence, and I know he’s evaluating if he believes me.

But another thought instantly sparks in my brain.

Roman is in jail because he’s a suspect in the disappearance or suspected murder of Sebastian.

I need proof to get him out of jail, to get this investigation dropped.

I grab my cell phone and pull up the voice memos. I hit record and switch my desk phone to speaker.

“Perhaps you were not in on what was going on, but Roman has been watching you, obsessing over you since the minute you came to Chicago,” Sebastian finally continues.

I shake my head. “Not that it really matters at this point, but you’re wrong. Roman showed nothing but disdain and annoyance toward me. He may have shown a surprising amount of sympathy and compassion once you lost your mind, but there was never any hint of what you’re accusing.”

“Sweet, blind Juliet,” Sebastian says in that purring voice of his. “Roman will eventually get what he deserves. But this isn’t why I called.”