Frost & Flames | Soulmate AU 2 |

Twenty-One

"Scofield has assigned someone to the investigation into who framed you," Max informs me over breakfast the next morning. "They're both making the trip here to meet with you, probably ask you a few questions."

"What kind of answers could I even have?" I mutter, pouring myself some soda even though it's hardly even ten a.m. yet.

"To be honest, I have no idea," Max replies, stabbing at a pile of some slightly burnt hash browns with a fork. He gave making the potatoes a good try, but making hash browns apparently isn't as easy as you'd think. "It's easier to just humor them. At least they're keeping us in the loop."

"Yeah," I agree with a shrug. "I guess you're right."

The pair arrive from D.C. at around three in the afternoon. The team is scattered about the tower for the most part, but Max and I are on the common floor when the pair get off of the elevator. Max gets up from the couch, taking long strides to shake Scofield's hand. I follow a little farther behind, and only get a good look at the lead investigator's face when Max steps aside. Something funny happens, then, where my soul does something where it basically leaves me body. My mouth moves and I greet him, I even shake his hand, but it's like and out of body experience, because it's that guard from The Vault.

"This is Marc Rest, he's been on an undercover assignment in The Vault for the past year or so, but I thought some of his previous experience would be good for the investigation into who framed you."

"That's great," my mouth says.

"I just had a few questions for you before I set him free to kick off the investigation," Scofield continues, smiling jovially.

"Uh huh."

"Why don't we all have a seat over here?" Max suggest, gesturing back to the couches. We all move.

I sit down, and I turn my head to my right, making full on eye contact with this man, Marc, and—

—and suddenly I'm standing at one of huge windows on the common floor, staring out a dark sky and the many lights of New York City.

"Lake?" someone is saying my name. A hand lands on my shoulder and I jolt away, stumbling a bit as I whirl around. It's Rowan who's there, staring at my face with this oddly horrified look on his face. No, not at my face. His eyes are focused on my neck. "Why are you scratching yourself, baby?"

"What?" I say finally. "What are you talking about?"

He steps forward, placing his hand on mine, and, oh, my own hand is on my neck. He studies my face for a moment until I look down to see the hand of mine that he's holding. There's blood crusted under my fingernails.

"What...where did Scofield go?" I say, turning to look around the expanse of the common floor's open layout. Nobody seems to be here aside from Rowan and I. "He was just...he was just here, Row, with that—with that in-investigator. They were supposed to ask my questions, remember?"

Now Rowan looks downright scared. It isn't an expression I think I've ever seen on his face, so it sets me on edge, as well.

"They both left hours ago, Lake," he says slowly. "It's six, they left at five."

I stare back, unsure of what's going on. Is this all some kind of elaborate joke? Is this some really obscure way of throwing a surprise birthday party?

"No, no," I insist. "I had just sat down."

"Okay," Rowan says, pulling me towards the couch. I yank my hand out of his grip when we get close enough to the couches, a zip of terror racing up my spine.