by Jade Kerrion
Chloe yanked out of his grip. Her brown eyes flashed. “Who let the three of you out without leashes?”
Zara shrugged. “Sometimes, Xin lapses into momentary insanity. I’m sure this was one such instance.”
A clear female voice cut into their conversation. “Actually, I’m supposed to be the adult supervision.”
Danyael twisted around. Incredulity leeched past his flawless equilibrium. “Amanda?”
Amanda Chandler, a former major in the Mutant Assault Group and Danyael’s one-time lover, offered a perfunctory smile. Her blue eyes were cool as she surveyed the group. “Welcome to Singapore.”
“You’re the NSA country manager in Singapore?” Danyael asked.
She nodded, her blond hair swaying about her face.
“When did you…?” He shook his head. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You didn’t seem interested. You hardly noticed when I left D.C. You had other”—her scornful gaze raked over Zara Itani—“things going on in your life.”
Zara tilted her head. “Bitter, are we?”
Danyael frowned at her. “Zara—”
Zara’s head snapped to the side. Her eyes flared wide, and she lunged at Danyael, slamming the alpha empath to the ground.
A bullet whizzed over their heads.
Behind Danyael, a man collapsed with a strangled cry. He pressed a hand to his face. Blood leaked out from between his fingers.
With a muffled curse, Zara took off, racing into the panicked crowd, past cringing travelers and alarmed airport employees.
“Stay down,” Galahad ordered, but Danyael was already moving toward the injured man, his crippled leg dragging behind him.
“I’ll be all right.” Danyael glanced up at Galahad, his heart pounding in his chest. His dark eyes met Galahad’s. “Find Zara. Keep her safe.”
A shot rang out, and then another, both sounds echoing above the screams of the crowd.
Galahad gasped. “Zara!”
~*~
Galahad’s preternatural senses had always been more curse than blessing—an overload of sights, smells, and sounds; a constant bombardment of sensations that made every moment come alive, excessively and unnecessarily alive.
Silence was unattainable, peace impossible.
But his senses also allowed him to pick out a single agonized cry in a cacophony of screams.
“Zara!”
Galahad raced through the crowd, leaping over cowering tourists. Zara had to be near. Her scream had come from around the corner. As he turned the corner, he reached for his gun and swung it up.
His finger froze on the trigger.
The muzzle of a gun pointed, unwavering, at his nose.
“Really, Galahad,” Zara murmured. “Screaming my name and crashing through the crowd like a clumsy elephant. Did you learn nothing from me?” She did not look at him. Her attention and her other gun were trained on a woman—her mirror image. The only difference was that the woman was sprawled on her back, a crimson stain spreading on her white shirt over her left breast. Her chest heaved with each struggling breath; each heartbeat pumped blood out of her.
Galahad’s gaze darted to the body of another woman. His brow furrowed, and he stepped away from Zara and kicked the woman’s body over. The face was Zara’s, the violet eyes vacant. Blood trickled from a single bullet hole in the middle of her forehead.
Damn it. Zara Itani by herself was a handful. Zara in triplicate was worse than hell unleashed on Earth. Galahad straightened and brought his gun back up. “How do I know you are Zara?”
Danyael hobbled around the corner, flanked by Amanda and Chloe. His dark-eyed gaze flashed over the three versions of Zara, one dead, one dying, and the third unscathed. “Put the gun down, Galahad. It’s Zara.”
Galahad did not take his eyes off the surviving assassin. “How do you know?”
“I can’t sense her.”
“What?” Galahad’s confused question echoed Zara’s startled cry.
Danyael glanced at Zara and then looked down at the injured woman. “I erected a psychic wall between us. I have no idea what you’re feeling, but I can sense the dying woman.”
The woman’s eyes rolled up in her head, and her final breath rattled in her throat. For a moment, her body seized up before her limbs relaxed and the lines of agony on her face smoothed.
Zara lowered her matching Glock handguns but did not put them away. She stalked up to Danyael. “You can’t sense me?”
“Not anymore. Not for the past fifteen months, since Sakti.”
For a moment, she seemed speechless, but she recovered quickly, glowering at him. “And I suppose you think that excuses your typical male cluelessness?”
“No, I consider it self-defense.”
Curiosity briefly dampened Galahad’s hatred of the alpha empath. For someone possessed of exquisite manners, Danyael’s response was unusually brusque. Zara must have hit a raw nerve; she did have a talent for finding them.
“Is the man alive?” Zara asked.
Danyael nodded. “He’ll make it.” The empath’s face was tight with barely concealed pain. No doubt the man owed his life to Danyael.
Danyael considered the approaching security officers and airport personnel, and then glanced over his shoulder at Amanda. “Can you handle the authorities, or should I?”
“I’ll take care of it,” Amanda said, a crisp and annoyed bite to her voice. She turned and stalked away. The soothing cadence of her voice drifted back to them, only slightly louder than the terse barrage of questions flung her way.
Galahad shut out the sound as he studied the precise wounds on Zara’s clones. “If you were sloppier with your aim, they might have survived long enough for questioning.”
“I don’t do sloppy. Bad work can be habit-forming.” Only then did Zara put her guns away. The flare of irritation on her face faded as she knelt down to examine the two women who resembled her. “Do you think they’re age-accelerated clones?”
Danyael’s fathomless dark eyes were troubled. “We’ll have to run the genetic tests to be certain, but if they are…”
Galahad frowned. How bad did things have to be to faze the alpha empath’s perfect equilibrium? He forced himself to complete Danyael’s sentence. “Are there more clones of Zara and of me?” His hazel eyes met Danyael’s. In that moment, his hatred of Danyael paled. The dread reflected in Danyael’s eyes resonated with the deep chill that clutched at Galahad. “And are there age-accelerated clones of you too?”
CHAPTER NINE
From his hotel suite on the fifty-second floor of the Marina Bay Sands Hotel, Danyael enjoyed an unparalleled view of one of the most technologically advanced and beautiful cities in the world. Like most megacities, Singapore was more dazzling at night than during the day; the artificial glow of its buildings and vehicles purged stars of their nascent light. Down by the water, the Helix Bridge glowed silver and blue; its sinuous twists were a tribute to brilliant design and precision engineering.
His physical distance from the bustle of the city allowed Danyael to appreciate the design that went into more than buildings. At 275 square miles, Singapore was fabulously wealthy, thanks to an industrious populace and a fiscally responsible government. Its knowledge-based economy was anchored in science, technology, and business, and more than any other country in the world, it welcomed human derivatives with open arms.
Those traits also made Singapore the perfect host country for cutting-edge scientific research that would likely have been illegal if only the International Genetics and Ethics Council knew what to ban.
Danyael arched his back, stretching against the tight muscles that coiled with tension. Who knew what secrets lay beneath Singapore’s pristine surface?
“So, what’s the first order of the day?” Amanda’s question drew him back into the low murmur of conversation taking place in the suite’s expansive living room. A low bluesy tune piped in through hidden speakers, and on the flat-screen television, a screensaver prog
ram flashed through breathtaking photographs of Singapore and its people.
Danyael spared the screen a brief glance as he hobbled forward. His grip tightened against his crutch as a wave of nausea tore through him, threatening to rip up the dinner he had eaten earlier. He closed his eyes briefly against the vertigo that swayed him.
Chloe rose from her seat in alarm. “Danyael?”
“I’m fine.” He waved her concern away.
Chloe would not be deterred. “You don’t look fine.” She took his arm and supported his weight as he lowered himself slowly onto a chair.
Her elegant legs folded beneath her, Zara did not move from her place on the couch, but her eyes had narrowed.
Danyael looked up, meeting Chloe’s gaze. “You have to leave.”
Shock glazed her eyes. “No, I’m not going anywhere.”
“You’re out of your depth. You don’t belong here.”
She shook her head. “I can’t leave now. There is so much more here than what happened to my father. Someone…some organization out there is age-accelerating clones of the perfect human being, an assassin, and God knows what else. It must be stopped.”
“Yes, but not by you. This isn’t a joyride, Chloe. You’re a news anchor, not—”
She glared at him. “I don’t need or want your protection, Danyael. The last time you tried to protect me, I wasted two years of my life wondering if I’d lost my mind and if I had only imagined loving you.”
Amanda intervened. “Is this a private conversation? Should the rest of us leave?”
“Of course not,” Zara said. “It’s reassuring to know I’m not the only woman Danyael has screwed up.”
“I can help,” Chloe insisted. “I have access to private media channels. Much of it is gossip, but a lot of gossip is grounded in slivers of truth.”
Zara shrugged. “Xin has access to all those channels too.”
“Yes, she does,” Galahad said. “But I’d like to have an alternative source of information.”
“Are you suggesting Xin would lie or deceive us to get what she wants?” Zara asked. Her voice dripped sarcasm.
“It wouldn’t be the first time, nor the last,” Galahad said. His gaze darted to Chloe. “You can stay, and I’ll keep you safe if you promise to keep a low profile and follow instructions—”
“When will you men realize that I don’t need to be kept safe? I don’t see you offering to keep Amanda and Zara safe?”
Galahad chuckled. “That’s because Amanda is a former military officer and an alpha telepath, and Zara…well, when it comes to Zara, you’ll learn quickly that the best way to stay safe is to stay out of her way.”
Chloe’s gaze rested briefly on the other people in the room, before finally returning to Danyael’s face. “Fine, if that’s the only way to be a part of the team, I’ll play along.”
Danyael shook his head and released his breath in a quiet sigh, but said nothing.
“All right,” Amanda said, her voice brisk. She pulled her blond hair back into a ponytail. Her blue eyes glowed beneath the soft lights of the suite. “Now that we’ve surrounded Danyael with three of his former and current lovers, and almost certainly guaranteed a catfight at some point, what are we going to do about the age-accelerated clones?”
Zara laughed softly, but the gleam in her violet eyes confirmed that she was not amused. “We find their operation and shut it down.”
“How?” Amanda asked.
“Bait,” Danyael said quietly. “There are at least two immediate targets that we know of—Joyce Ong and me.”
“We need to stop utilizing plans that use you as bait,” Zara said. “People tend to die in bulk when we do.”
Danyael nodded. “And we will, as soon as you find someone else they’d rather go after. Joyce must be protected.”
“A Singapore special forces team is on her twenty-four-seven, including telepaths and telekinetics,” Amanda confirmed. “The team leader sends me regular reports.”
“Any pre-cogs?” Danyael asked.
“No, unfortunately, alpha pre-cogs are in short supply. Most of them are getting rich playing the stock market.”
“Do we need to supplement their team?”
“Hmm…” Amanda’s fingers tapped a rhythm on the armrest. “We know that there are clones of Galahad and Zara out there. It wouldn’t hurt to have both Galahad and Zara take a look at the safe house and identify weak spots that their clones might exploit.”
“You’re assuming the clones are equally competent,” Danyael said. “I wouldn’t count on it.”
“Why not?”
“If they were, they would have killed both Zara and me at the airport.”
“So we have nothing to be afraid of?” Amanda asked.
“Actually, we have a great deal more to be concerned about,” Danyael said. “Galahad and Zara are known quantities, their habits honed from decades of experience. Their age-accelerated clones aren’t going to think the same way. Their skills may not be as honed, but they won’t behave the way we’d expect Galahad and Zara to behave either.”
“Great, unpredictable clones of trained killers,” Amanda muttered. “All right, our first stop tomorrow is the safe house. I’ll call ahead to let the team leader know we’re coming.”
“Why not now?” Danyael asked.
Amanda arched an eyebrow. “Because it’s late and you need to rest.”
Chloe nodded her agreement.
A half-smile, both mocking and amused, tugged at the corner of Zara’s mouth.
“I’ll get started on my research right away,” Chloe said. “I know local NBC journalists I can call on to get a download of the latest news.”
“Don’t limit yourself to news in Singapore. We don’t know if the lab creating these clones is in Singapore,” Danyael said.
“But you think it is, don’t you?” she asked.
Danyael hesitated, and then he nodded. “Singapore is the most fertile ground for cutting-edge scientific research. The government actively funds it—”
“A*STAR…” Zara breathed out shakily.
“What?”
“The Agency for Science, Technology, and Research. It is Singapore’s lead agency for fostering world-class scientific research. It funds research institutes, including biomedical research. Three years ago, it paid me for Galahad’s genetic code.”
“What?” Galahad’s eyes widened. “You broke into Pioneer Labs on behalf of the Singaporean government?”
Zara shot to her feet and paced the length of the suite with the grace of a stalking tiger. Not even Amanda with all her military training could duplicate Zara’s predatory style. The assassin shook her head. “Not precisely. A*STAR didn’t ask me to break into Pioneer Labs, but perhaps it was implied when A*STAR agreed to pay me for your genetic code. At that time, your genetic code was a closely guarded secret—the only source was at Pioneer Labs itself.”
“So, did you provide A*STAR with my genetic code?” Galahad asked.
“Of course. In fact, they were annoyed that I wasn’t as prompt as I should have been with the delivery, and they sent their agents to track me down. They were waiting for us at Danyael’s apartment in Brooklyn—”
Danyael’s jaw dropped. “Those were A*STAR agents? How many groups of people were we running from?”
Zara shrugged. “At that point, just about every U.S. government agency, A*STAR, and the mercenaries recruited by the Mutant Assault Group. We’re lucky we survived with no more permanent damage than falling in love with each other.”
Danyael raised his startled gaze to Zara. Had she actually said the word ‘love’ in front of other people?
Mercifully, the others chose not to respond to Zara’s matter-of-fact statement.
“It sounds like we have another stop tomorrow,” Amanda remarked. “It’ll be a busy day. Should we split up? We’d cover more leads that way.”
Back on safe ground, Danyael nodded. “Amanda, you and Galahad head to the safe house tomorrow. Zara
and I will hit up A*STAR.”
Chloe stood and stretched. She hovered two inches shorter than Zara’s five foot eight inches, though she did not seem intimidated by the height difference. “I’ll talk to my contacts, and I don’t need an escort. Frankly, considering the bull’s-eye painted on your backs, I’ll probably be safer on my own.”
Danyael glanced at Amanda. “What have you told your Singaporean counterparts?”
Amanda shrugged. “Per Xin’s instructions, as little as possible. Only the Special Operations Forces division commander and the hand-selected SOF team protecting Joyce know the full story as we know it.”
Danyael closed his eyes against the emerging headache. “Does Xin complicate things just for the hell of it?”
“Full disclosure is dangerous, in any case. We don’t know what’s really going on and who’s responsible for the age-accelerated clones. Who’s going to update Xin?” Amanda asked.
Zara’s gaze traveled around the room, briefly touching all present. “It’s probably going to involve a fair bit of lying, which automatically excludes Danyael. I’ll do it. I can lie to Xin while staring her in the face.”
“She’ll probably know anyway,” Galahad said. “When did things change? I thought Xin worked for you, not the other way around.”
“I think the only person Xin works for is herself,” Zara said sourly.
Amanda interjected. “Xin is a great deal more influential than most people know. She’s not a lowly analyst in the NSA. She has earned her nickname ‘Xin the Omniscient,’ and she advises the National Security Council. If there’s a national or international disaster in the making, she’s either behind it or trying to stop it.”
Muscles cramping, Danyael pushed slowly to his feet and limped to the window. Far below, the island nation of Singapore bustled through its night, scarcely less busy than it was during the day. Did chaos lie beneath the façade of perfect order? Was there an international disaster in the making?
More importantly, had Xin sent them to stop it, or to precipitate it?
~*~
