Or worse—he could be married.
Everything in him rebelled at the idea, but it was a possibility he couldn’t completely discard. While he didn’t feel a mating bond, it wasn’t proof of anything. There were plenty of married couples that weren’t naturally compatible enough to form a bond. Arranged marriages were still common, especially among high society.
Fuck, if he was married…
He stared at Liam, his chest tight.
In any case, telling Liam that he wasn’t his brother would be premature. He needed to know for sure. He needed to learn his own name first—and whether he was even able to offer Liam anything.
Besides, the Division didn’t take kindly to revealing the existence of top-secret tech to civilians. If it were to leak that there was technology that could forge memories and fool a DNA test, the uproar would be enormous. The public still had trouble accepting NDA-tech, and NDA-tech was far less invasive and disturbing in comparison.
So no, he couldn’t risk revealing anything to Liam yet. If the Division found out, they might mess with Liam’s memories. Make him forget him.
The possibility turned his stomach, but it was a valid concern. That was why he wasn’t in a hurry to go to the Division and request that they remove the memory lock—that would look strange, because it would be a breach of mission protocol. An operative wasn’t supposed to return to headquarters before his mission was complete. His superiors would be suspicious if he did. So no; it wasn’t an option. He couldn’t risk attracting their attention to Liam.
There was something else that made him wary of approaching the Division: this mission wasn’t the type they usually got involved in. State secrets, scientific and political espionage were more up their alley. A murder of some viscountess and an attempted murder of one of their operatives should have been too insignificant for the Division to bother with. The fact that they hadn’t sent a trigger to lift the memory lock was another alarm bell. He was missing something, something crucial. And it made him wary.
Not that it mattered at this point.
There was only one thing he could do. He needed to finally wrap up the damn mission and then get the memory lock lifted—if it wasn’t just a product of his imagination.
Liam mumbled something sleepily, his hand stroking the mattress, searching for him.
His heart clenched. Fuck, what he wouldn’t do to be able to hold Liam in his arms while he slept—and actually be there in the morning when Liam woke up.
But Anthony Blake couldn’t do it.
He didn’t want to be Anthony a moment longer, not if he could help it.
Turning around, he left.
***
The helicopter ride to the Blake country estate seemed unbearably long. If the pilot was surprised by his desire to return to the countryside in the middle of the night, he didn’t show it.
It was barely dawn by the time he arrived.
He strode toward the house. It was long past time for subtlety. He’d wasted the past month trying to provoke Wayne Blake into acting rashly and making a mistake, but so far he hadn’t taken the bait. It almost made him doubt that the unpleasant man was the culprit. No; everything pointed to him. In the past few weeks, he’d learned that Wayne had debts, overwhelming debts accumulated thanks to numerous credit card bills, medical bills, poor investments and outrageous expenses. The man needed the Blake money; the motive was there.
All he needed was proof.
What Liam had told him had given him options. Two options. He could choose to pursue the option of investigating Wayne’s illegal experiments on the feral Xeus. Since it had happened relatively recently, unlike the viscountess’s death, the chances of finding loose ends and gradually unraveling the man’s other criminal activities were pretty good. It was the smart option. But that would take time. Time he didn’t have. Liam missed him. Liam was miserable. Liam needed him to fix it. Liam needed him.
The thought was like an injection of adrenaline into his mind.
No, he couldn’t wait.
You’re acting rashly, a voice at the back of his mind tried to warn him. You’re letting your alpha instincts affect your judgment. Think with your head, agent.
He grimaced, running a hand through his hair. He was well aware that he was acting rashly. He knew he was compromised. But he couldn’t wait any longer. He had been this close to sinking his teeth into Liam’s mating gland tonight—and that would have been a disaster of epic proportions while everyone thought he was Liam’s brother.
No, he couldn’t wait.
So that left only the second option: direct confrontation. He would confront Wayne and bluff that he’d caught his man red-handed when he attempted to poison him. This plan wasn’t ideal and depended on variables he couldn’t control.
But it was all he had, given the time constraints.