The Descartes Evolution

by N. J. Croft

  Jenna wasn’t about to admit to this woman that yes, it had. But she’d accepted she was expendable and been relieved when she’d heard he’d gone ahead and destroyed the toxin; she couldn’t have lived with the responsibility. And in a way, it showed he truly cared, that he knew her well enough to understand her.

  All the same, it might stretch their relationship a little bit if she became one of the very people he’d been trying to destroy for the last ten years.

  The thought brought her up short. God, she couldn’t believe she was even considering it.

  “Well?” Lauren asked. “What are you thinking?”

  “I don’t know, and that’s the honest truth.” She took a deep breath. “Give me the suppressant and the antidote right now, as an expression of good faith, and I’ll consider it.”

  “No.”

  Jenna’s heart sank. She saw no way out of this.

  “I’ll tell you what,” Lauren said. “If you persuade Hockley to give himself up, I’ll make sure he gets the antidote. We might kill him later, but at least you won’t be guilty of poisoning your lover to death like you did your poor nanny.”

  “Bitch,” Jenna said again, and Lauren laughed.

  A knock sounded on the door, and Lauren called out, “Come in.”

  Mark entered and came to stand in front of them. “We’ve had a call from Hockley.”

  Lauren frowned. “How the hell did he find a number?”

  “It came through the priority protocol channel.”

  “Ah, Dr. Smith, I presume. Oh well, I suppose it saves us the trouble of trying to find him. What does he want?”

  “Plenty. Proof that Ms. Young is alive and well, and to meet and exchange her.”

  “Exchange her for what?” Lauren seemed amused by the concept.

  “He says he’s amassed considerable information on the Conclave over the past ten years, and he’s going to go public with it if we don’t give him the woman.”

  Lauren raised an eyebrow. “Really. I wonder what he’s got exactly.” She turned to Jenna. “I don’t suppose you know?”

  “Not everything, but he does have the film of the test in Ivory Coast. Surely that’s worth a swap.”

  “Did you not listen to what I told you? We’re about to come out into the open. Why the hell would we care if he tells the world what he thinks he knows?” She released her breath on a huge sigh. “On the other hand, your Mr. Hockley is becoming a pain in the ass. We might as well resolve this.” She turned to Mark. “Arrange it, but make sure there’s backup. I want him covered at all times.” She turned back to Jenna. “Looks like your boyfriend wants you back.”

  “I doubt he’ll feel the same once he finds out who and what I am.”

  Lauren’s expression became serious. “Maybe not, but join with me and you have a chance to do something, perhaps change the Conclave.”

  “You think that’s possible?”

  “What’s the alternative? That your boyfriend dies a particularly horrifying death, caused by you, and you spend the rest of your days as some sort of lab rat? As my daughter, I can protect you. Otherwise, you’re on your own.”

  Jenna studied the floor. What choice did she have?

  Either way she would lose him, but at least if she chose the Conclave, he would be alive to hate her.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  The first cramp hit him as he parked his car. The shock doubled him over, crashing his forehead into the steering wheel. The pain faded quickly, but he sat for a minute, breathing deeply, gathering his strength. He needed to finish this before it was beyond him.

  Luke climbed out of the car and slammed the door. There was no sign of life; the warehouse was in darkness.

  He’d set up as many safeguards as he could, but the plan was in no way foolproof. At least Jenna was alive. They’d let him talk to her on the phone. She’d sounded strange, their conversation stilted, and he was worried that maybe they had done something to her, given her drugs.

  She told him she was fine, just tired and worried. Then she’d asked how he was, and he knew she must know about the infection, had likely had confirmation that she was producing the poison. He was aware there was a good chance they would die here tonight, but better a bullet in the brain than the relatively slow torture of bleeding to death from every orifice. He just wished he could save Jenna.

  “I’m sorry about Callum,” she’d said at the end, and he’d felt the familiar lurch of grief.

  “So am I.”

  Why hadn’t they killed her? It was unlike them to not carry through on a threat.

  She must be valuable to them in some way. Had they done something to her as a child, some sort of genetic modification? That had been her father’s and Professor Merrick’s field.

  They were all dead now; perhaps there was a God after all.

  How could a father do that to his own child? What must it have been like for her growing up believing she had an incurable disease? Yet, how much worse was the truth?

  He still had no clue as to the significance of Descartes. If he asked nicely, would they tell him before they killed him?

  The information for Jenna’s life. That had been the deal. They hadn’t mentioned his life, but maybe they already knew he was dying. The only question was—how long would it take?

  His one regret was he hadn’t gotten to the killers of Leah and his baby. No, that wasn’t his only regret. He regretted not having the chance of a life with Jenna, to go somewhere new, start over. Somewhere clean. But maybe that was an illusion, and the world was turning to shit. He was sure that’s what Callum would have said.

  A sharp jolt of pain shot through his left leg, and he almost stumbled to the ground. He reached out a hand and braced himself on the wall. The pain came again, and cold sweat broke out on his forehead.

  “Fuck.”

  Headlights shone through the open doorway, and a car pulled up. The lights went out, and a door slammed.

  Pushing himself upright, he wiped his hand across his forehead and gritted his teeth against the pain. It was fading to a dull throbbing ache that echoed the pounding in his head, and he found he could stand up straight. He needed to appear in control, so he took a deep breath and stepped forward out of the shadows.

  Five people entered the warehouse. At the same time, the place flooded with light. Luke spotted Jenna straightaway at the center of the group. She appeared fine—better than fine. There was no sign of any injuries, and she didn’t seem to be restrained in any way. She looked at him, her eyes clear, and she smiled. He nodded and moved on to the others. Beside Jenna stood a woman, blond, beautiful, and obviously in control of the situation, the rest of the group forming a semicircle around her.

  A young man in a suit stood immediately to her left. Luke couldn’t place him, and two others who were obviously muscle, heavily armed and not hiding the fact. Semiautomatic pistols in their hands. He could tell they were pros and knew he’d be lucky to see this through.

  But things became a lot easier when you removed yourself from the equation.

  He wasn’t coming out of this alive, but then he didn’t want to come out alive and end up like those poor sods in Ivory Coast. No way. He’d rather go down shooting. As long as he got Jenna out first.

  He turned back to study the woman. This must be the one he’d spoken to on the phone last night. The one who had threatened to kill Jenna and who was responsible for Leah’s and Maddy’s deaths. For his father. And for Callum. A rush of hatred swept over him so strong he swayed. He forced it down and continued to examine her. She appeared to be maybe in her thirties, beautiful, but more than that, something about her appeared familiar, and a ripple of unease shivered across his skin.

  His gaze shifted to Jenna. They were both the same height, pale blond hair, blue eyes. He’d never discovered how Jenna tied in to all this or where she had come fro
m.

  Now he wondered just who her mother really was.

  …

  Jenna ate him up with her eyes. She wanted to run to him, hold him, but it would be a mistake to let Lauren see how much she cared. Her gaze ran down over his body then back up to his face. He didn’t look well. A faint sheen of sweat glazed his forehead, and his skin appeared flushed. Her chest tightened as she realized the poison had already taken hold.

  “Your Mr. Hockley doesn’t look too good,” Lauren murmured from beside her.

  A flash of hatred hit her in the gut, and she fought the urge to lash out, very aware of the two men with the guns standing behind her. She had to choose her time. She didn’t have a plan, hadn’t known what to expect until they got here and she saw Luke.

  She realized she’d been living with the hope he would be fine, that he wasn’t infected, and she wasn’t some form of poison that would kill anybody she got close to.

  For a little while, she’d allowed herself to dream there might be a life for her, a future with Luke. Now she knew that would never happen. Perhaps that was why her father had told her she had an incurable disease, so she wouldn’t expect much of life and wouldn’t allow herself to get close to anyone, to love anyone.

  All she could hope for was to save Luke’s life, persuade Luke to give up his revenge and go with them to the lab where the drugs were stored.

  She forced her expression into blankness and turned to Lauren. “I want to go talk to him. Alone.”

  Lauren raised an eyebrow. “All right, but don’t take too long. We need to get him back to the lab and treated, and I don’t know how fast the progression of the infection will be. He might have only hours. Or minutes. Better hurry and persuade him to cooperate.”

  “I’ve told you I’ll stay,” she growled. “Don’t push your luck.”

  Lauren looked mildly amused, but she nodded.

  Jenna cast a brief glance at the two men; their pistols were raised and pointed straight at Luke. He stood, his body loose and relaxed, but his eyes were tense as he watched her.

  She walked toward him, coming to a halt only inches from where he stood. For a moment, she hesitated, but thought what the hell, if this was the last time she would see him, she needed to touch him.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  She nodded and stepped in closer, wrapped her arms around his middle and laid her head against his chest. She could hear the rapid thud of his heart, feel the unnatural heat of his body beneath her cheek. He held her for a minute, and a shudder ran through him, his breath catching in his throat.

  She pulled free and stepped back. “I’m sorry.”

  A small smile curved his lips, and his face softened. “What for?”

  “For Callum. For you—I did this to you.” She shook her head. “I didn’t know.”

  “I know.” He watched her for a moment. “I’m going to get you out of here.”

  “You can’t.”

  “I think I have enough information. They won’t risk it getting out. I’ll give it to them in exchange for releasing you.”

  “You don’t understand. I don’t want to go. I’ve agreed to stay with them.”

  He blinked as though he couldn’t quite understand what she was saying, and she forced herself to go on. “I’m poisonous, Luke. I’ll infect anyone I come into contact with.”

  “You’ll find the treatment; you know it exists. You can go back to the lab where it was sent for analysis. They might have kept the sample—tell them it’s not contaminated, to look further… They’ll be able to copy it somehow.”

  “No, they won’t, because one of the components doesn’t exist. Not on earth, anyway.”

  He frowned. “What are you saying?”

  “I was…” She paused, not sure how to word this. What was she supposed to say? Hey, I’m not entirely human. I was made in a test tube and part of me is an alien. Not going to happen. She didn’t want to get into that right now; she wasn’t sure how she felt about the whole alien thing. “I was infected by some agent they found on the moon.”

  His eyes widened. “Descartes?”

  “Yes, the Descartes Highlands. On one of the lunar landings. The medicine my father gave me contains the same agent. No one will find it here.”

  Understanding and despair dawned in his eyes. “There must be some way.”

  “There is. The Conclave have agreed to give me some of the medicine.”

  “In return for what?” His tone was harsh.

  She ignored it and continued, “They’ve also agreed to treat you if I cooperate with them.”

  “Cooperate? What the hell does that mean? What do they want from you?” He took a step toward her as though to take hold of her, and she edged back out of reach. She could do this. All she had to do was persuade him to go along with them. She walked away, coming to a halt beside Lauren.

  “This is my mother. She wants me to join the Conclave and work beside her.”

  “I don’t understand. How…”

  “My father kidnapped me when I was four and pretended I was dead.” She decided not to reveal why he had felt the need to do that. “My mother discovered I was alive only a few days ago. She wants me with her.” She forced herself to say the words. “And I want to stay.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “You should, but then you don’t really know me. All my life, I’ve felt as though I’m different, as though I didn’t belong. Now I’ve found somewhere, something I can be part of. I thought I had no family left, and now I find that all this time I had a mother, and she wants me with her.”

  Luke’s gaze shifted from her to Lauren, who stood silent beside her. Jenna saw his eyes darken with hatred. “Your mother? Do you know what that woman is responsible for? You saw the film of Ivory Coast. That happened under her orders.” The hatred turned to pain, and Jenna thought her heart would crack. “She murdered my wife and my baby. Maddy was three months old.”

  He glanced away, and Jenna knew he was getting himself under control. When he looked back, he opened his mouth to speak again, but pain flashed across his features. He staggered. She thought he was going to fall, but he managed to pull himself up. A trickle of blood appeared beneath his nose. He wiped it with the back of his hand and stared at it for a moment.

  “Time’s running out, Jenna,” Lauren said. “If you want to save him, I suggest we move.”

  “Luke, please, you’ll die.” Fear tugged at her. She had to convince him. “You have to come; they won’t touch you, they’ve promised, they’ll just give you the medicine, and you can leave or stay. Whatever you want, but you need to come now.”

  As he looked at her, something close to understanding flickered in his face, as though he realized at last why she was doing this. His expression softened for a brief moment until resolve hardened his features.

  “Don’t sell yourself for me,” he said. “I’m not worth it, and I won’t thank you for it.”

  She bit down on her lip to stop herself from pleading with him. Deep down she’d known he would never agree. That he would never compromise his morals just for the chance to live. He might have done it to save her, but never to save his own life.

  She watched as he turned away and headed for the door.

  “So,” Lauren said softly. “What do we do now?”

  Jenna understood then that they would not let Luke walk away. He knew too much. She glanced sideways to where the two guards were standing. They were focused on Lauren, waiting for her command.

  Lauren gave a small shrug. “Kill him.”

  Jenna could do this. She was fast and strong, and if she died trying was that such a bad thing?

  She spun around, kicking out at the man nearest her. He crashed down, and without looking at him, she launched herself at the second. Things seemed to move in slow motion. His gun pointed at Luke, his finger t
ightening on the trigger, but as his companion went down, his gaze flicked from his target, and Jenna kicked him in the throat. The force of the blow knocked him out, and he fell to the floor. There was a movement behind her, and Jenna leaped toward the first man as he lifted the pistol, stomping on his arm, the crack of snapping bones loud in her ears. Reaching down, she grabbed the semiautomatic pistol, whirled around in one fluid move, lifted the pistol, and aimed it at the two people left standing.

  Lauren was deadpan. Mark’s eyes were wide as he looked from Jenna to the men on the floor then back to Jenna and the gun in her hand.

  She glanced away briefly to check the men. One was unconscious; the other was awake, his eyes open, but he was in no state to do anything more than watch, his broken forearm cradled on his chest. To be sure, she stepped across and pulled the second pistol from the holster at his waist and threw it across the room, then did the same to the unconscious man. As she made to toss it, she looked up and across the warehouse.

  Luke had come to a halt at the door. He was watching her, a slight smile on his lips that turned to a grimace as a surge of pain hit him. She tossed the pistol toward him, and he caught it.

  She turned back to face Lauren, who hadn’t moved.

  “I take it this means you’ve decided not to join us after all.”

  Jenna nodded.

  “So you would have joined us to save his life, but you won’t do it to save your own. Perhaps we aren’t so much alike after all.”

  “We aren’t alike at all.”

  “You can’t go out there, Jenna.” Her tone softened, and Jenna almost winced at the pity she could hear in her voice. “You’ll infect everyone you come in contact with. Do you want to be responsible for that?”

  Jenna looked away and found Luke watching her. She needed him to leave; she wasn’t sure she could do this with him there. “Go,” she said.

  He shook his head, as she’d known he would, and she turned back to Lauren. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Lauren studied her for a moment. “So what are you doing?”