“Speaking of motivation and peace, how’s the ex?” George’s upper lip twitched.
“Spirited,” Deke said. “Not happy to be taken off a beach in Hawaii.”
George full-on grinned. “Has she figured out you waited until her first day of vacation before sending in the team?”
“No, but she will.” There hadn’t been a choice, considering BioGlax Pharmaceuticals would’ve noticed its number-one team missing. “We have nearly two weeks until her people need to report back to work, and we’ll have the bacteria contained by then.”
“I hope so. We’ve had reports of illnesses in Key West that match the Scorpius symptoms.”
Deke rubbed the scruff on his chin. After the initial students had been released, they’d scattered for spring break until he’d had soldiers hunt them down and bring them back. “We knew there was a chance of some spread of the infection.”
“I know.” George stood. “I have a meeting on the Hill. When this is all over, I’d like to meet your ex, at some point. I’m quite curious.”
Deke followed suit and placed his glass on the desk. “How so?”
George tilted his head. “You’re military, and she’s well, antimilitary. Her people are from Argentina, yours from the Highlands of Scotland. Talk about opposites.”
Deke grinned. “She’s not an anarchist, George. She just thinks the government breaks too many rules.” He cocked a shoulder. “She isn’t wrong.”
“No, she isn’t.” George crossed around the desk. “However, I learned a long time ago that there are two types of people in this world.”
Deke turned for the door. “Do tell.”
“The kind who believes the ends justify the means, and the other kind.”
“Who are they?” Deke paused before opening the door and glancing at the older man.
“People who live the life they want because there are people out there, like us, making sure the ends justify the means.” Wisdom, right or wrong, lit George’s eyes. “For now, we claim the luxury of having two kinds of people.” He opened the door and clapped Deke on the back. “If we don’t get a handle on this infection, only one type of person will remain.”
A chill sliced into Deke’s temple. “Which one?”
“Survivors.”
Deke nodded and turned down the hallway, his mind spinning. George had pegged him right. He did feel more like himself now that there was something to fight, and wasn’t that all sorts of fucked-up?
He made his way through the building and out to his car, stopping then to check his phone. A text message from his contact at the CDC read: One of the new team was infected. Fever started two hours ago. Call in.
His legs stopped moving, and he slapped a hand onto the roof of his car. His gut clenched. What had he done? He quickly dialed Nora.
“Hello?” she answered.
“Nora? You infected?” He wrenched open the car door and slid inside, igniting the engine in one smooth motion.
“No. My assistant, Zach, was infected.” Concern rode her voice.
Deke pulled out of the lot, driving one-handed. Thank all the gods. “I’m on my way.” He clicked off to maneuver through traffic. What the hell had he been thinking? Not for one second had he thought about the danger to the research team. There were so many protocols in place. Nora ruled her lab, and he figured she’d be fine.
Yet her own team member now fought the fever.
Every instinct he had pushed him to yank her from the CDC, and he knew the urge came from the hardheaded warrior persona he’d tried so hard to shed. Was George correct? Did Deke belong in the fight and not behind the scenes? No, he’d tried too hard to banish the anger and deal with not only a crappy childhood but the things he’d seen in the service. Hell. The things he’d done in the service. Now he could be a normal guy just living his life.
He could be that guy. He really could. Right?
Traffic hampered him, but he finally arrived at the CDC. His card would get him through any secured door, but he had to go to reception in order to find Nora. As soon as possible, he needed to memorize the layout of the building. An escort arrived, a young intern by the name of Judy, who led him through the building to a heavy metal green door manned by two armed guards. An imposing red biohazard warning spanned the door.
“You go the rest of the way on your own,” Judy said with a happy hop.
Deke nodded. He swiped his card, and the door buzzed. Keeping his expression stoic, he yanked open the door and crossed inside, waiting until it closed before wiping his hand down his jeans. Give him ten armed assassins over a nearly invisible bacteria, any day. He could only kill if he could see the target.
A petite brunette with weary green eyes lounged against the stark white wall, measuring him carefully. He strode toward her and stopped far enough away that she wouldn’t have to tilt her head to look at him. “Can I help you?” he asked.
She lifted one eyebrow. “Yes.” Her tennis shoe tapped a rapid staccato against the tiles.
Interesting. It seemed Nora’s buddy didn’t care for him. Well, that was fine. At the moment, he didn’t like her overmuch, either. “Would you please take me to Nora?”
The brunette lifted an eyebrow. “I’m Lynne Harmony.”
No shit. He’d read her file and knew everything about her from her favorite color to her weakness for chocolate-covered raisins. “Deacan McDougall.”
She chewed on that for a bit before speaking again. “So you’re the bastard who broke my friend’s heart.”
Yep. That’s what he’d figured she’d say. “Yes, ma’am,” he said slowly.
“Do you want to tell me why?”
“Nope.”
“Why not?” Lynne continued to tap her foot.
He glanced down the hallway. There was only one way to go, but he didn’t want to tick off Nora’s friend too much. “I don’t figure it’s any of your business.”
By the woman’s huff, she apparently didn’t agree. “I’m the only family she has left in the world, which does make it my business.”
When she sounded all outraged on Nora’s behalf like that, Deke couldn’t help but like her a little. “Now that’s where you’re wrong, Lynne Harmony.”
She strode toward him, hand on hip. “Excuse me?”
Deke met her gaze, keeping his hands at his sides and trying to appear harmless. He had a point to get across, but there was no need to frighten the woman. “You’re a friend, and from what I can tell, you’re her best friend. That’s good. But I’m her family. Period.”
Lynne kept his gaze without blinking for several tension-filled moments, although a slight blush filled her face. Admiration welled through Deke at her stubbornness. Not many hardened men could hold his gaze for that long. Finally, Lynne nodded. “I guess we understand each other.”
He grinned. His Nora chose her friends well. “I guess we do.” He waited a beat. “She left me, ya know,” he said softly.
“I know. But you let her go,” Lynne said, stretching her neck. “You don’t seem like the type of guy to give up something good.”
Deke gave a short nod. “I’m not, but at the time, I didn’t think I was something good. I figured she’d be safer on her own than with me.”
“Was she?”
Now that was the big question. “I donna know.”
“Fair enough.” Then Lynne Harmony, brilliant scientist and good friend, threw back her head and laughed. “Man, I like you.”
He smiled, feeling as if he’d overcome a deadly hurdle. “The feeling is mutual.”
Lynne tucked her arm through his. “I’ll take you to Nora. She’s not doing well.”
That quickly, Deke’s gut roiled again. He shortened his stride so Lynne wouldn’t have to run and allowed her to lead him through a labyrinth of hallways to a room outside a hospital bubble. Nora sat on a makeshift sofa, her gaze on the young man inside.
Lynne patted him on the arm. “I’m heading back to the lab. If there’s any change, let me know.”
Deke nodded and strode forward to touch Nora on the shoulder. For the slightest of seconds, she leaned against his leg.
Then she straightened. “His name is Zach Barter, he’s twenty-two, and his fever is at a hundred and five.”
Deke sat and slid an arm around her shoulders. “He’s young and strong. The fever should break within the night.” Pulling her into his side, he couldn’t help but press a quick kiss to her curly hair. “You haven’t slept in over twenty-four hours, baby.” They hadn’t been together in eight years, but Deke knew without a doubt she wouldn’t leave her friend to fight the fever by himself. So he took care of her the best he could. “Close your eyes. I’ll watch Zach.”
Nora shuddered and leaned into him.
The situation sucked, but the rightness of the moment dug deep into Deke’s gut and took hold. If they were such opposites, why did it feel so damn good just to sit and hold her?
Chapter Four
After a useless day of trying to penetrate Scorpius’s protein shell, Nora had left her nanoparticle experiments to do their thing. Hopefully there would be results within sixteen hours.
For now, she stood outside Deacan’s apartment door, not moving. Her knees wobbled. Agreeing to dinner had been a mistake. A huge-ass, what was she thinking, larger-than-life. . . mistake. She knew better. God, did she know better.
Yet when he’d asked, her heart had leaped. A hard thud against her rib cage—one she hadn’t felt in eight years. The previous night, as Zach had battled the fever, she’d actually slept curled up into Deacan’s side, feeling safe. Deke had awoken her around dawn with the good news that Zach’s fever had passed. She’d waited for a while to talk to Zach, and the second he made a lame joke, she’d known. He would be all right, and more than willing to donate blood and get his brain scanned for a closer look at Scorpius.
So she’d returned to the lab to double her efforts to beat the crap out of Scorpius. The nanostructured materials so far hadn’t worked, but she’d only tried silver and titania. She’d try ceria next.
Now, after a full day in the lab and a quick shower in her temporary apartment, she hovered like a weenie outside Deke’s place.
If she went inside, she knew exactly where the night would end. Where she wanted it to end—satisfying her curiosity about their past. Had it been as good as she remembered?
She lifted her hand to knock, but the door opened before she made contact.
“I gave you long enough to change your mind.” Deacan grasped her arm to lead her into cool air.
She’d forgotten. The way he had of taking charge, of touching, of instantly enfolding her into his space. Even in his early twenties, he’d ruled the atmosphere around him. Now, in his thirties, seasoned and somehow calm, he still made air adjust to him.
Some things never changed.
She stumbled by him and shoved a bottle of wine into his stomach. “I bought red.”
He lifted one eyebrow and shut the door, accepting the bottle and releasing her arm. “Thank you.”
She swallowed and nodded, her gaze darting around a sprawling room decorated with masculine leather furniture. The room even smelled like him. Spicy and male.
He grasped her chin and lifted her face. “Nora, take a breath.”
She tried to appear calm and meet his gaze, but her heart thundered in her ears. “I’m fine.”
He blinked, his thumb brushing across her chin. “I won’t hurt you, baby.”
She frowned and tilted her head to the side, allowing his fingers to remain on her skin. “I’m not afraid of you.”
He sighed and released her to run a hand through his thick hair. “Sure you are, and I don’t blame you.” He turned toward a spacious kitchen decorated with dark granite and stainless steel appliances.
Heat rushed into her lungs, and she grabbed his arm. Hard and sculpted, his muscles moved beneath her palm.
But he didn’t turn back, and his shoulders remained stiff.
What was he thinking? She kept hold and walked around to face him. “Deacan?”
His gaze met hers, green and dark. “I remember how it was, and so do you. I’ve changed, but I don’t expect you to believe just my words.”
She shook her head, her mind fuzzing. “You’re confusing me. I was never afraid of you.” Afraid for him, sure. Definitely. But not one minute of their time together had she spent thinking he’d hurt her. Ever.
His brows drew together. “I punched the walls. A lot. I was so fucking angry. All the time.”
She nodded, her heart hurting in a way it hadn’t in so long. “I know. But you never hit me, and I never thought you would.” There were times she thought he’d break his hand, but not once, not once, had she feared for herself. He’d been so young and angry. “You’ve never been a man who’d harm a woman, Deacan.”
Even at their worst, when she’d yelled at him, he’d never yelled back. Had never even raised his voice to her. He’d needed her, and she’d run like the scared kid she’d been. Although they’d both changed during the ensuing years, he was still a soldier, whether he knew it or not, and she was still a scientist with a healthy suspicion of the government.
Were they on opposite sides? Especially since Scorpius could be eventually weaponized? She wouldn’t allow any government, even her own, to have that kind of power.
“You were right that I needed to get my head on straight before I re-upped. I should’ve listened to you.” His gaze softened, and he brushed a strand of hair off her face. “We were too young. Way too young.”
She smiled, her body relaxing. “I know.” Clearing her throat, she stepped back. “Where do you really live now?”
He chuckled and turned toward the kitchen. “I had a place in Georgetown, but the lease is up, so I just moved everything here for now. Maybe once you cure Scorpius, I’ll actually buy a place. Settle in.” He shrugged broad shoulders and reached for a plate of steaks.
Deacan McDougall in a permanent home? Hard to imagine. She followed him through the kitchen to a dining nook set against floor-to-ceiling windows looking out at the lights of D.C. He’d set the table with matching place mats, plates, and linens.
“Sit, Nora,” he said, setting a pan in the center and pulling out her chair.
She sat, and amusement bubbled up upon seeing a tag sticking out from her place mat. “This is lovely,” she murmured, discreetly tucking the tag under the blue woven material. She’d bet her last dollar he’d purchased matching tableware that day, and his cupboards were full of mismatched plates and chipped cups. “Everything looks so put together.”
He leaned over a breakfast bar for salad and rolls before opening the wine and pouring them each a glass. Then he sat, overwhelming the oak chair. “I remembered you liked things to match.”
She chuckled, absurdly touched that he’d made such an effort. They hadn’t succeeded as a couple, but there had been some great times together. “Remember that teeny apartment we had by the base?” One bedroom, living room, tiny kitchen, and minuscule bathroom. Just painting the place had depleted their savings, but she’d wanted it bright and cheery for when he took leave, so she’d worked for a week to make a home.
“Yes,” he said, taking a drink of the wine.
She followed suit, allowing the dark taste to warm her belly. It was time for some truth. “I’m thinking it’s not much of a coincidence you had me extracted on day one of my vacation.”
He reached for the salad to dish it on their plates before adding the steak. “No. We needed to keep the relocation of your team under the radar, even from your employer.”
Tingles flared alive in her abdomen. “Don’t you think the public should be made aware there’s a dangerous bacteria being transmitted?”
His green gaze met hers. “We don’t need to cause a panic at this stage.”
She lifted her head. “People have a right to know. You must understand your obligation to the public.” Her gaze narrowed, and her breath slowed.
“It’s too early
for panic, Nora. Trust the government a little.”
She set down her fork, her temper simmering. “You’re kidding me.”
“Nope.” Deacan cut into his steak.
How could she trust an entity so comfortable keeping secrets? She wiggled on her seat. “Do other governments know about Scorpius?”
“Yes, and that’s a problem. China accused us of creating Scorpius and is insisting we send along samples.”
Nora coughed. “You said no.”
He glanced up, his gaze direct. “Of course, but that just means we need to tighten security.”
Her mind blanked. “Please tell me that once we solve this thing, Scorpius gets destroyed.”
He leaned toward her, his gaze soft, his voice strong. “Probably not. We need to study it and prepare for any mutations, which I’ve heard has already happened. If Scorpius was in one meteorite, it’ll be in another.”
She shook her head. “I won’t let you use any of my research as a weapon.”
He lifted an eyebrow and gave a short grin. “Fair enough. Let’s talk about something that won’t get us into a fight. How about movies and current events?”
She laughed and started to argue about dramas versus comedies versus sports. Dinner passed, and she finally set down her fork. “That was wonderful. Thank you.”
He nodded, his gaze warming. “I know you’ve dated, Nora, but have you found anything close to what we had?”
Panic skittered down her spine, and she shoved back into her chair. “We were kids, Deacan.” What she remembered, what haunted her at night, had to be a dream. A young girl’s romantic rememberings of a time that couldn’t have existed. She took a big gulp of wine. “What we had wasn’t real.”
“It was real, and you know it.” He refilled both their glasses and then captured her gaze. His voice rumbled low and intimate, while his gaze heated. Seated and eating, he was every bit the slumbering lion, satisfied for the moment. Yet there was no doubt he’d be hungry again . . . and not for steak.
A shiver of warmth licked across her nerves. “I’m not sure.”
“I am. I missed you.”
On the Hunt Page 13
