Mohinder sat back in his lab chair and closed his eyes, trying to ignore the prodding ache that the simple act of sitting down brought him. The whirring of the centrifuge was a loud and domineering presence in an otherwise silent room, but Mohinder blocked it out with practiced ease. His heart hadn't really been into his work anyway and as soon as he had found himself needing to wait on another set of test results his mind had fled the familiar comforts of scientific inquiry.
He'd already made arrangements for dinner with Matt, Molly and Peter. He was looking forward to seeing Molly again, but otherwise the prospect was vaguely terrifying. Peter had given him the strangest look when he'd left the apartment that morning and Mohinder was quietly panicking that the ex-nurse had been reading his mind. Add to that the fact that he'd committed to eating dinner with two mind-readers and he figured he might as well die of embarrassment now and get it over with.
Mohinder honestly didn't know what he was going to do. His attempts to keep his thoughts under control seemed more and more futile. He couldn't even begin to imagine what might happen if and when the two men found out what had transpired. It seemed that there was no such thing as privacy anymore.
If it weren't for Molly, Mohinder would be sorely tempted to just not show up. Except that doing so would likely only provoke even more unwanted attention. He was stuck between the proverbial rock and a hard place, trapped with no way out. There was a chance that he'd survive the night without arousing any suspicion, but he was starting to seriously doubt his odds.
Mohinder found himself wishing that Sylar would change his mind, show up again, and decide to kill him out of revenge. At least that would be simple. At least then the world would make an odd kind of sense again. Mohinder just didn't have the energy to deal with this bullshit any longer.
Sylar, Sylar, Sylar.
Now that Mohinder finally had time and his thoughts to himself, he had a chance to try and process everything that had happened. Unfortunately, no matter what way he twisted and turned things, peered at them from different angles, he couldn't make any sense of it all. There were a lot of things that Mohinder could do, and definitely some things that he should do, but none of them felt right.
He supposed that the right thing to do would have been to agree to work with Bennet. Mohinder should have been so disgusted with everything that had happened, so desperate for a way out, that he would have jumped at the chance. It would have been dangerous, and if he had failed and was discovered he would probably have been facing a fate worse than death, but it would have been the right thing to do. He would have liked to tell himself that he was simply a coward and not willing to take the risk, but that wasn't it. It also wasn't that he wanted Sylar alive. No, if he had been that far lost to his insanity then he wouldn't be helping Peter to track the man down. Instead, the only answer he could grasp that seemed even remotely correct was that he couldn't bring himself to commit such an intimate act of betrayal.
Somehow, beyond all logic and reason, Sylar had decided that he wanted Mohinder in his life. It was an absolutely terrifying idea, but in a weird sort of way it was also incredibly flattering. He was disgusted with himself for thinking that way but he couldn't honestly deny it. Sylar had spared Elle's life solely because of him. Sylar claimed to have, in an odd sort of way, spared Nathan for the same reason. Mohinder had been perfectly honest in his reaction to those actions back in the motel room. Yet at the same time he couldn't deny that, for Sylar, sparing Elle's life, at least, had been a monumentally huge event. Sylar was defined by his lust for power and, in retrospect, it was almost hard to believe that he had given up the chance to collect an ability like Elle's. To think that Sylar had decided, in his own twisted way, that he'd rather acquire Mohinder's favour than another power, well it was quite frankly mind-boggling.
If it weren't for the fact that Sylar was, quite certainly, currently out stalking his next victim, Mohinder might have allowed himself the delusion that the man was still redeemable. Instead he was left with a strange mix of pleasure for being so important to, quite frankly, anyone and despair over the fact that it was a serial killer who felt this way about him. Perhaps worst of all, however, was the fact that he couldn't deny his attraction to the man.
There was something about Sylar that had captivated Mohinder from the instant he'd laid eyes on him. It was one of the few moments in their strange history that had been unsullied by the knowledge of the atrocities that Sylar had committed. It was hard to peel away the truth from the lies, but for the first time Mohinder felt at least moderately equipped to solve that puzzle.
He tried to picture the man that Sylar had been before he met Chandra Suresh and took on his new identity. It was impossible to accept the idea that his father had been an even remotely willing accomplice to Sylar's first murders, but now that Mohinder had been provided with more details it was just as impossible to deny the fact that his father was at least a catalyst to the events that ensued. Not actively involved, perhaps, but if he hadn't approached Gabriel Gray then none of this madness would have ever happened. Or at least not in the same manner.
The only way he could feel confident about any assumption in that area would be if he knew what Sylar's original ability was and how he took on new powers. If his original ability was a perversion of Peter's, and its only use was the collection of other abilities, then maybe there was a certain inevitability to it all. Perhaps Gabriel Gray had simply needed time and the right motivation to go from seemingly innocent watchmaker to homicidal maniac. On the other hand, if his ability was something else entirely… but Mohinder couldn't even begin to imagine what that might be.
So what did he know?
To all accounts Gabriel Gray had been a meticulous man with a thirst for knowledge and a few obsessive tendencies. Mohinder had been in his apartment before it had been cleaned out. (Did Sylar know who it was that had broken in?) The shelves had been stuffed to overflowing with books on a myriad of different topics. Not to mention the medical texts left open to detailed photos of brain dissections.
Hmmm… now there's something I never properly considered.
It was one of very few real clues as to what he did with the brains of his victims. Sylar had intimated that Mohinder should be able to puzzle out that particular riddle on his own, so what were the facts? Despite the popular, gruesome opinion, Sylar didn't eat the brains of his victims. That he had managed to take Nathan's ability while leaving his brain intact was proof of that. So what had he done instead? Mohinder hadn't had the luxury of hanging around to inspect Sylar's gruesome handiwork, but the options were limited if he could do what he needed to do while the brain was still in the victim's head.
He couldn't have done more than look at it… Is that it? He can take on another's ability just by studying their brains? How is that possible? It doesn't make sense that he would develop an ability that's sole purpose is to assume powers by looking at the brain. How would he know to use it in the first place? If-
Mohinder's thoughts were rudely disrupted by the insistent beeping of the centrifuge. He paced over to the machine, removed the vials contained within and set back to work. He chewed absently on his bottom lip as he peered at their contents, wincing as he hit the fresh scab.
His few answers only bred more questions. He felt like he was so close to the ultimate solution, but it was just beyond his reach. Sylar's original ability was such a tantalizing enigma. Mohinder couldn't help but think that if only he could figure out what it was, he'd have the key to understanding the man. Maybe he'd be able to understand why Sylar had started killing in the first place and then, then maybe Mohinder could convince him to stop.
-------------
Ando Masahashi sighed as he stared at the familiar door in front of him. This couldn't continue any longer, something had to be done, but so far all his attempts had been woefully unsuccessful. His best friend had finally returned, only to retreat into himself.
Ando had never seen Hiro in such a bad state. At first he thought that maybe Hiro just needed some time to rest and recover. Ando had waited for four months in relative boredom for Hiro to return, but Hiro's adventure hadn't stopped. After all they'd been through to stop the bomb and save the world, Hiro had ended up trapped in the past and facing even more challenges.
Ando's joy at his friend's return had been short lived. Though Hiro claimed he had achieved vengeance for his father's death, there had been a pained look that accompanied that declaration. Hiro had refused to talk about it and for a while Ando had left him alone to rest. Now though, it had been days. As far as Ando could tell Hiro was so depressed that he was rarely even leaving his bed.
Ando had tried to get to the root of the problem, to find out what had happened, but his normally chatty friend refused to talk about it. He did get the occasional clue though. So far he had managed to establish that Hiro had found the man who murdered his father and carried out a punishment that had seemed fitting at the time. Whatever it was, it seemed that the knowledge of what he'd done was eating Hiro up inside. It was slowly tearing him apart and none of Ando's efforts thus far had garnered any success. It was getting so bad that Ando was becoming genuinely afraid for Hiro's health. He'd promised himself that if he couldn't get through to Hiro today, he'd let Kimiko know what had happened to her brother. Ando was sure that she would know what to do, how to help.
With another deep sigh, Ando rapped loudly on the door.
"Hiro-kun!"
-------------
Mohinder climbed out of the cab he'd arrived in, paid his fare and turned to face his destination with a sigh. He was excited to see Molly again, especially since he didn't know when their next meeting might be, but otherwise he was dreading this dinner with every fiber in his body. This was definitely not the smartest idea he'd ever had.
Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to focus on Molly rather than his rising panic, and entered the restaurant.
It was a nice enough place. Nothing too fancy but at the same time not full of screaming kids either. The décor was eclectic and a little bizarre, Mohinder couldn't see any real pattern to it and yet it wasn't garish either. It seemed like someone had decided to have a lot of fun and thrown together the strangest assortment of knick-knacks and wall hangings they could find without becoming ridiculous. It was kind of charming, really, once the initial shock wore off.
"Mohinder!" Molly's excited cry captured his attention immediately. The little girl slid out of her booth seat and came charging towards him, just barely avoiding a collision with a server, and threw herself into Mohinder's arms. Mohinder gathered her up in a fierce hug, his worries momentarily forgotten as Molly wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him like she was afraid he might vanish at any moment.
"Molly, oh I've missed you!" Mohinder exclaimed, a wave of happiness rolling over him that soothed his agonized soul. He didn't know what he'd do without his precious little girl. He'd do absolutely anything to keep her safe and happy.
Mohinder put Molly back down with great reluctance, but they were blocking the path for others. Molly grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the booth where Matt was sitting waiting for them, a pleasant smile on his face. No sign of Peter yet, but that was fine, he had said that he might be a bit late.
"Mohinder, how are you?" Matt asked with genuine interest as Molly tugged Mohinder in to her side of the booth.
"I'm fine," he replied with a small shrug. "A little tired, but you know me." Matt cast him a dubious glance but nodded, deciding not to press the point. At least not in front of Molly.
Molly poured over her menu excitedly, occasionally tugging on Mohinder's sleeve to ask his opinion on meals and ingredients she didn't recognize. With still no sign of Peter, they went ahead and ordered. Conversation was pleasant and lighthearted. Mohinder couldn't help being affected by Molly's exuberance and energy. He was so pleased that she didn't seem any worse off for her recent experiences that he found his troubles quickly receding to the back of his mind.
He questioned Molly about how she was doing on catching up with her schoolwork and how things were going with her friends. It was a small mercy that Matt had managed to arrange for her to stay in the same school. Mohinder was grateful that there was at least one point in her life that was still stable.
The only really awkward moment came when Molly, pouting adorably, asked when Mohinder would be joining them in their new place. She told him how much she missed him and complained about Matt's cooking with more mischief than malice.
Mohinder didn't miss Matt's serious expression when the topic came up, but he kept his focus on Molly. He told her that work was keeping him busy and that he didn't know when he'd be able to come back to live with them, but that he hoped it would be soon.
In all honesty he didn't have a clue when that might be and he forced himself not to think about all the reasons why he might have to stay away from this wonderful little girl that had ensnared his heart.
Mohinder was determined not to let Matt pick up any stray thoughts concerning Sylar. They'd previously discussed his return and Mohinder had mentioned briefly on the phone that it would be safer for everyone if he lived elsewhere for the time being. He was sure that Matt wanted to know more, but neither of them was going to bring up the topic of Sylar in front of Molly. Knowing that the man that had brutally murdered her parents was still alive, still out there, was upsetting enough without actively discussing him in her presence.
Peter arrived shortly before the food did with a strained smile and a heartfelt apology.
"I'm so sorry I'm late, but there was something that I had to take care of," he supplied cryptically. Matt offered his hand, which Peter shook kindly. He offered Mohinder another almost pained smile before he took the empty seat next to Matt and focused his attention on the curious little girl beside Mohinder.
"Hello there, you must be Miss Molly." The warm grin of a person who loves children lit onto Peter's face. To Mohinder it was a welcome reprieve, the strained smiles that had started the meeting were more than a touch unsettling.
"You're the one who fought the Boogieman.." Molly exhaled in something between cautious fear and awe. "The exploding man."
Peter winced visibly at the last statement and he stared at the table as he tried to push those resurgent memories away.
"Molly this is Peter, Peter Petrelli." Mohinder explained, putting a soothing hand on her shoulder. "He's a friend." Ever the smart girl, Molly frowned as she took in the pained expression on Peter's face and knew what she'd done wrong.
"I'm sorry." She offered softly. "I know you didn't want to explode. Were you sick, like me? Is that why your powers didn't work right?"
"Molly, I don't think-" Matt started, only to be cut off by Peter raising a hand.
"No, its ok." He assured, furrowing his brow pensively for a moment. "I wasn't sick, Molly. Well, not like a real illness. See, I had a lot of different changes happen to me all at once and it was too much for me to handle. So in a way my ability was making me sick."
Mohinder quirked an eyebrow at that. It sounded like Peter had made some real progress in understanding his abilities. Suddenly Mohinder wished that he wasn't so uncomfortable around Peter at the moment. He'd love to pick the other man's brain and find out how far this new understanding had progressed. The one attempt he'd made to pick Sylar's brain about his abilities had been swiftly shut down. How Sylar gained new powers was a bigger mystery, but Peter was only a slightly smaller one.
Bastard just wanted to watch me squirm. I wonder if he really thinks I can figure it out for myself? Hard to say, but I'd bet he just brushed the subject off because he couldn't wait to get into my pants.
Mohinder was jolted out of his thoughts by the sound of Matt choking on his coffee.
ohshitohshitohshitohshit
Innocent thoughts about Peter's ability had devolved into something much less innocent and now Matt…
Peter, seemingly oblivious, patted Matt on the back as the cop coughed up the last of the coffee that had become lodged in his lungs. Molly was saying something but it didn't really register with Mohinder. His face rapidly colouring with a flush of embarrassment and he was seriously considering fleeing to the bathroom or outdoors for some fresh air and privacy when their server suddenly arrived with their orders.
Food served as an excellent distraction and Peter took the opportunity to order something small for himself. Soon everyone was munching away and the moment seemed to have passed. Matt was shooting Mohinder the occasional glance, his expression unreadable, but Mohinder did his best to ignore him. There really wasn't much else he could do and whatever Matt had overheard and inferred from that breach of privacy, it wasn't something he would bring up in front of Molly at the very least. Mohinder couldn't panic now, he had to clamp down on his thoughts and block the two across the table out.
Peter sipped the coffee that swiftly arrived for him and, quite unaware of the sudden awkwardness, turned back to his conversation with Molly.
"Have you ever had trouble controlling your ability?" Peter asked. Molly grinned around a mouthful of wedge-fry and shook her head as she swallowed.
"Only when I was sick and then it just didn't work." She answered with a shrug. "Its changed over time though."
"Really?" Peter leaned forward, "can I ask how?"
"Well…" Molly dipped a fry absently in some ketchup, "at first I could only find people using my maps. I'd think about them and my hands would move on their own, but the rest was just sorta hazy. Now when I look for someone I can sometimes see them, what's around them, what they're doing. I don't like it very much though, sometimes, it feels like spying on them." She popped the fry into her mouth and gave another small shrug. Mohinder wrapped an arm around her and gave her shoulders a small squeeze. Molly leaned into the hug, resting happily against Mohinder's side.
"So what can you do Peter?" Molly asked curiously. "Something other than- um…"
"Exploding?" Peter supplied dryly. Molly nodded as she gave Mohinder's waist a squeeze before returning to her meal. "Well… basically whenever I meet someone with an ability I absorb it and then I can use it myself."
"Really?" Molly's eyes widened and she shifted nervously in her seat, "but, not like…"
Peter looked confused for a moment, but Mohinder quickly place a comforting hand onto Molly's back.
"Peter picks up new abilities just by being near people with them," Mohinder explained soothingly.
"With sometimes painful consequences," Matt chimed in ruefully. "My head has never hurt so much as when I first tried to read your mind." The comment prompted a series of chuckles from the others and conversation quickly took off into the pleasures and pitfalls of having abilities. Mohinder breaking in every now and then to ask something obscenely scientific, usually prompting a chorus of groans.
By the end of the evening Mohinder was feeling happier and more relaxed then he had in days. Molly's bright smile never failed to fill his heart with joy. Every now and then Peter or Matt would give him an odd look, but Mohinder did his best to ignore them. He couldn't change what he might have already let slip, and somewhere along the line he'd resolved to focus on Molly and just enjoy himself.
When the four finally left the restaurant Matt and Peter shuffled over to one side, ostensibly to give Mohinder a chance to say a proper goodbye to Molly. Mohinder crouched down so that he was eye level with his darling adoptive daughter.
"So you behave yourself for Matt, ok?" He told her with a wry smile, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Molly nodded slightly, her lips tugged into a pout, her eyes cast downwards.
"When will I see you again?" She sniffled sadly and Mohinder's heart nearly cracked in two right then and there. He pulled her into a tight hug, clinging to her tiny frame.
"I don't know," he admitted reluctantly. "Soon though, I promise."
Molly nodded, sniffling a little more and Mohinder pulled back to look her in the eye. A lone tear trickled down her cheek and Mohinder reached forward to brush it away with the pad of his thumb.
"Hey, don't cry. Things will be back to normal soon." He reassured her, trying to convince himself that it wasn't all a lie. With Sylar in the mix, there really wasn't any way to safely judge what the future might hold.
"I'm afraid for you Mohinder," Molly whispered. "What if the Boogieman comes back?"
Mohinder put on his bravest face before resting both of his hands on Molly's shoulders. He hadn't wanted to bring this up, but since she had, it might be the only way to reassure her.
"You know how Peter has all these different abilities?" He asked softly. Molly nodded slowly. "Well now he has yours too, and he's going to use it to find the Boogieman and stop him from hurting anyone else. OK?"
Molly craned her head around to look over at Peter for a long moment before returning her gaze to Mohinder.
"I like him," she declared thoughtfully.
Mohinder smiled fondly lowering his hands to take Molly's small ones into his own.
"Me too," he agreed softly before taking a deep breath. Now or never. "Listen. I want to ask you a question but you don't have to answer if you don't want to. Its ok if you can't." Molly nodded hesitantly, hair spilling over her ears to fall in front of her face once more.
"Your father… he had an ability too," he began hesitantly. "Do you know what it was?"
Molly was silent for a long moment as she stared at her feet. Mohinder instantly regretted bringing it up. He should have just made do without the answer, it wasn't worth upsetting his precious girl over.
"He was like me," Molly answered suddenly. She brought her eyes up to meet Mohinder's once more and instead of being full of loss and agony, they were bright and strong. "It was different though. He didn't use maps, and the Boogieman won't able to use it."
"Why not?" That hadn't been what Sylar had suggested to him.
"Because Daddy was only ever able to use it to find Mom, or me if I got lost," she explained with a soft smile. "I asked him once why he couldn't use it to find other people and he told me that he could only use it to find people that he was connected to. Right here." Molly reached out a small hand and placed it flat on the left side of Mohinder's chest, right above his heart.
-------------
Sylar closed the small locker door and turned the tiny metal key. He hated leaving his file in a public place but the only other option was to carry it with him and that was, for the moment, out of the question. On the off chance that something went wrong he didn't want to hand all that detailed personal information over to his enemies. No, this small storage locker would do for now. He'd paid for a week's use, which was 6 days more than he expected to need it for, but better to be safe than sorry.
Pocketing the key, Sylar pulled out his brand new map of Tokyo and stepped outside to get his bearings. He was so close now, he could practically taste it. This strange, foreign country was a tantalizing distraction, but he was too near to his goal to indulge in sightseeing. Hiro Nakamura and his amazing ability were nearly within his grasp, and nothing would stop him now.
-------------
Peter and Mohinder traveled straight back to Mohinder's apartment and set to work right away. Mohinder forced his mind to stay blank as he rummaged through Molly's old room while Peter paced back and forth near the doorway. The plan was for Peter to search for Sylar immediately, but he wasn't to act unless they knew for certain either who Sylar's target was, or that he was rapidly closing in on one. Otherwise, Peter was going to wait for Bennet to contact him and then they were going to go off and do whatever it was Bennet wanted to do.
Mohinder really didn't want to know what Bennet had in mind. He truly just didn't want to be involved. He was having a hard enough time with things as they were. He was occupied well enough by the task of keeping his brain from doing any processing, right now any in-depth thought would likely be a dead giveaway. Though from the looks Peter had been 'discreetly' shooting him on the ride over, Petrelli knew something was up.
"Ok, here they are. Molly's old maps." Mohinder declared finally, bringing the stack of maps in various shapes, sizes and forms over to the kitchen table along with a small case of pushpins. "You know what to do?"
"Pretty sure," Peter answered as he pulled out a pushpin and spread the maps across the table. "Just concentrate on who I'm trying to find, right?"
Mohinder nodded and slid into one of the empty chairs as Peter closed his eyes, scrunching up his brow in concentration. For several seconds there was silence while Peter remained completely motionless. Mohinder was about to ask if something was wrong when Peter's hands started moving, opening one of the maps and flipping through the pages. Mohinder stayed silent, watching the pages go by, a growing knot of concern building in his stomach as Peter moved closer and closer to his destination.
Finally the empath stopped turning the pages, the hand with the pushpin hovering hesitantly back and forth over the opened map as if he was having trouble zeroing in. It was taking much longer than it would have for Molly, but that was to be expected, really. Mohinder held his breath, refraining from blurting out the name now suddenly on the tip of his tongue. Until finally Peter found his mark and opened his eyes.
"Tokyo, Japan…" Peter half choked out, jaw dropping as he stared at where the pin was located.
"He's gone after Hiro."
-------------
Sylar slipped cautiously past the security guard in the apartment building's lobby. He was taking every precaution with this one. Stealth was of the utmost importance. If he didn't catch the teleporter off guard Sylar knew that he could be in big trouble. He definitely did not plan on getting up close and personal with the business end of a katana ever again.
He rode the elevator invisibly up to the right floor, steadying his breath, going over his plan in his mind: figure out where Nakamura is and knock him unconscious before he even has a chance to realize he's in danger. It sounded simple enough. When the elevator doors slid open on the correct floor, Sylar couldn't restrain a bloodthirsty grin. He supposed he would have scared the hell out of the young couple making their way into his recently vacated elevator if he hadn't been bending the light to keep his presence hidden.
As silently as possible, Sylar approached the apartment number listed in the file, pressing against the wall by the door and opening up his hearing. Tokyo was an obscenely loud city and since arriving he had clamped down on that particular talent as tightly as possible. His super hearing had always been one of the hardest abilities to control and it took a delicate touch to get it just right. At first the sounds of all the tenants in the building threatened to overwhelm him, but in short order he had what he wanted.
There were two voices coming from Hiro Nakamura's apartment, and they were arguing.
"-and I'll apologize later but we need to go, NOW." Sylar frowned, he knew that voice. What was more, it was English being spoken.
"What? Why?"
"Sylar's here, now. He's coming to kill you!" It was Peter Petrelli's voice. Sylar could have screamed with rage.
"Sylar's ALIVE?"
"No time!"
Sylar ripped the door off its hinges, sending it flying through the room straight at the source of the two voices. The wooden door smashed into the opposite wall, destroying a rack of shelving and showering the room in miscellaneous debris.
Otherwise, the apartment was empty.
A howl of pure fury ripped itself from Sylar's throat. He stormed into the empty apartment, head whipping back and forth as if a second inspection might prove his first wrong. Random objects ripped themselves off shelves and walls, either smashing into offending surfaces or simply shattering outright. Sylar clenched his fists so tightly that he could feel blood running down his palms and he didn't give a damn.
Peter Petrelli, here in Japan, ruining his plans AGAIN. Plague or no plague, if Sylar could have gotten his hands on Petrelli right then and there he would have split his skull open in an instant, without hesitation.
The floor beneath Sylar's feet crackled and groaned as ice spread out from where he was standing. The urge to destroy was absolutely overwhelming. All that time, all that preparation, only to be thwarted by that pathetic sponge once more!
Oh no, I'm not going to rip his head off the moment I see him. Its going to be slow. He's going to be begging for death by then end! He'll wish-
A ragged cry escaped from Sylar's lips, his eyes going wide as a sharp pain bloomed in his back. His entire body convulsed and he had just enough time to realize something was horribly wrong before his body hit the floor and he was plunged into darkness.
-------------
Adam lowered his taser and took a cautious step towards the tall man now lying prone on the ground before him. It was definitely not Hiro, not by a long shot. Adam would have been highly frustrated if not for the all too clear evidence that he'd caught himself a prize that, while not as personally satisfying, could be highly useful indeed. He was highly impressed by how thoroughly Hiro's apartment had been torn to ribbons.
Adam flipped open his brand new disposable cellphone and hit the speed-dial.
"Here," the swift response was immensely satisfying.
"I'm not sure what happened to Hiro, but I've caught someone else instead." Adam explained evenly as he nudged the pale body at his feet carefully with the toe of his boot. "We'll stick with the plan for now. He's much bigger though, over six feet tall. So you'll have to up the dosage."
"No problem. I'll have it ready by the time you get down here."
As he snapped the phone shut, a calculating grin settled onto Adam's ageless features. Revenge would have to wait, it seemed; but if this catch proved as useful as he hoped, it just might be worth it.