by Cassie Miles
“Something you said earlier. About my blood being used to cure disease.”
Though it sounded good, she didn’t quite believe that his motives were utterly altruistic. “And?”
“Sykes turned me into a freak for his own selfish motives. If my ability can be used for good, it’s revenge.”
Jack stood beside him. “There won’t be experiments using your blood,” he promised. “I’ve had it done to me. I know what it’s like.”
“Good,” Drew said. “I don’t want to provide transfusions for the FBI, not after what Harlan did.”
Melinda wondered if her blood would also be useful. Though she’d self-healed her injuries after her fall, she probably wasn’t full-strength like Drew. And she worried about possible effects on the baby.
Jack gave her shoulder a reassuring pat. “It’s okay. We don’t need your blood.”
She exchanged a look with Drew. They hadn’t mentioned her enhanced ability, hadn’t told them about her pregnancy.
“We know,” Claudia said with a warm smile. “Congratulations.”
“You’re carrying the second generation,” Jack said. “And the baby has inherited the self-healing characteristic.”
“Yes,” she said.
“I’m afraid that makes you a prized target,” Jack said. “Sykes might want you even more than he wants Drew.”
“Not me,” she said with dark awareness. “He wants my baby.”
Chapter Fourteen
As they drove back toward the cabin, Melinda noticed a shift in Drew’s mood. Though he continued his vigilance, as he scanned the roads and checked the rearview mirrors, he seemed almost lighthearted. After he’d made his decision to be part of the team, the weight of life-and-death responsibility lifted, and he transformed into the charming guy who attracted her in the first place. He made her laugh and entertained her with stories of his extreme-sporting exploits that didn’t seem nearly so dangerous now that she knew he could heal himself.
They were nearing the final turn when she said, “You’ve talked about skiing and car racing and motocross. What about riding horses? Have you ever done rodeo?”
“I grew up in the Black Hills, but I’m a city guy. I like sports that go fast.”
“Not a fan of bull riding?”
“I’m always a fan,” he said. “I like watching any athlete perform. But I never got into rodeo. I’m better at riding motorcycles than horses.”
“Like the motorcycle in the garage at the cabin?”
He shot her a grin. “Tomorrow we’ll take it out.”
His mention of tomorrow’s plans reminded her. “Did you want to take the motorcycle to meet Harlan?”
“Maybe.” He guided the Range Rover down the near-invisible trail through the trees that led to the cabin. “You haven’t talked about your favorite sports.”
“Not much to say. Being from Minnesota means I’ve seen a lot of hockey. And I’m a Vikings fan, of course. And I once dated a college football player for the Gophers.”
“The Gophers.” He nudged her arm. “There’s a team name that strikes terror into the hearts of their opponents.”
“For your information, gophers can be really mean when they’re not digging tunnels through your backyard.”
“Fearsome rodents.” He parked in front of the cabin. “I’ll let you out here with the supplies while I put the car away. The garage is pretty cramped.”
She opened her door and hopped out. After they unloaded four grocery bags with enough fresh vegetables and meat to avoid his stash of bomb shelter cuisine for a few days, she went to the porch. Taking the cell phone from her purse, she turned it on. They might need to be in contact with Jack and Claudia, and she wasn’t sure they’d get a signal in this secluded forest hideaway.
To her relief, the phone was fully charged and seemed to be working. There was one missed call. Jack and Claudia? Though tempted to hit redial, she was aware that there were tracking issues. Claudia had assured her that this phone had no GPS chip, but the signal could be triangulated. She turned off the phone.
When Drew approached, she held it up. “I turned this on. Just for a second. We missed a call.”
“Harlan has that cell phone number,” he said. “Let’s leave it turned off. Later, I’ll contact Jack and Claudia on the computer.”
She nodded. Drew’s computer was, as Claudia assured them, untraceable. “Why wait until later?”
“There’s something more urgent.” He unlocked the door and pushed it open. “A pressing need.”
With a rising sense of apprehension, she followed him into the cabin. Was there some danger he hadn’t told her about? Some new and terrible threat? She waited impatiently while he activated the computer and the camera surveillance systems. “What is it, Drew? Are we safe?”
He swept her into his arms. “The only one who’s going to attack you tonight is me.”
His erection was hard against her belly. “Is this the pressing need you were talking about?”
“There’s nothing more urgent than making love to you.”
“Nothing?”
“Not right now.”
She rubbed against him, arching her back as she gazed into his dark green eyes. The winter clothing separating them felt as heavy as armor. She was ready to throw off her jacket and all the other layers in a frenzy, but Drew seemed to have another idea. He reached back and touched a couple of keys on the computer. Soft jazz with a sexy saxophone drifted through the speakers in subtle accompaniment. He held her, and they swayed together. His hands slipped rhythmically over her body as he removed her jacket.
He cupped her face gently, but his mouth was hard and demanding against hers. His thorough kiss left her breathless and a little bit dazed. Flickers of pure energy danced in her peripheral vision as he peeled off her sweater and reached for the button on her waistband. Slowly, in time to the jazz beat, he eased her jeans below her hips.
That was where she stopped him. Melinda wanted to be involved in this jazzy striptease. She wanted his clothes gone. First, the jacket.
“The holster.” Her fingers plucked at the thick canvas straps. “Take it off.”
“You don’t want me to wear my Glock?”
Fumbling with the holster, she suddenly had great sympathy for teenaged boys struggling to unfasten their girlfriend’s brassieres. “Get rid of the holster or I’ll tell you what you can do with your Glock.”
“Tough talk for a librarian.”
But he helped her with the holster. In minutes, he had bared his chest. Her own shirt and bra followed. Naked from the waist up, they joined together. The mingled warmth of their bodies heated up the cabin. She loved touching him, savoring his muscular body.
With Drew, she felt no hesitation. He encouraged her with light strokes that sent shivers across her flesh. Though they were both trying to go slow and prolong the pleasure, their need was too great.
They tore off the last bits of clothing. He lowered her to the mattress, holding and kissing her at the same time, which was a rather impressive feat of coordination. A skilled lover, he was far more experienced than she was. He directed, and she responded with enthusiasm. And passionate bursts of her own creativity.
Catching him off guard, she flipped positions so she was on top. He seemed surprised and pleased at the same time. She rose above him, straddling him, then lowered herself, taking him inside her inch by inch.
He reached for her, but she held him down as she rotated her hips in a slow circle. Tremors raced through her body as she moved faster, with more urgency. When she began to crumble in orgasm, he took charge.
Their positions reversed. Though she was already gasping, he drove hard into her, sparking another set of wild thrills. The pleasure went far beyond anything she’d ever imagined.
After he released his supersperm and collapsed on the mattress beside her, she didn’t know if she’d ever be able to move again. And she didn’t particularly want to. She’d be content to lie here, wallowing in bliss.<
br />
He propped himself up on an elbow and gazed down at her. “How did a librarian get to be so good in bed?”
“I’ve read the Kama Sutra.”
“Any special positions you’d like to try?”
“Not right now.” She smiled at him. “I’m spent.”
He kissed the tip of her nose. “You rest. I’ll put away the groceries.”
She loved that he didn’t feel the need for clothing as he did the simple housekeeping chores. As he went back and forth to the kitchen area, there was a strut in his step. His body was gorgeous from every angle. She sighed and said, “I love this cabin.”
“Don’t get too attached to it.”
“Why not? Are you going to blow it up?”
He grinned. “If necessary.”
“That’s not funny, Drew.”
He brought her a bottled water, uncapped it and held it to her lips. She tasted a sip, then lay back, waiting for him to join her.
Instead, he slipped into his jeans and he went to the computer. Though she was too blissed out to complain, she would have enjoyed a bit of cuddle time. “What are you doing?”
“No need for you to move a muscle. I thought I’d check out the DVD Jack and Claudia gave us. I’m curious about The Facility.”
She rolled over and buried her face in the pillow, wishing she could do the normal thing—relax in her lover’s arms. Instead of holding her, he seemed determined to open a whole new box of trouble.
DREW BELIEVED in research. The more he knew, the better prepared he’d be. That had been his logical rationale for cooperating with Jack and Claudia. They had connections that gave them access to better resources.
By reviewing the information on the DVD, he hoped to trigger his buried memories as well as adding to his knowledge about The Facility. He turned the volume low so he wouldn’t disturb Melinda as he watched.
The eight-pointed star filled the computer screen as Claudia narrated, giving a brief history of genetic experiments designed to enhance natural abilities.
The thesis sounded innocent enough, maybe even scientifically admirable. Then, they discovered the I gene, which could be supercharged.
Initially, Sykes had a research partner, Benjamin Stewart, who had ethical concerns about their project from the very start. Without telling Sykes, Stewart wrote secret codes into the genes. One of these codes created a subliminal memory of the eight-pointed star that could be used to link the subjects of the experiments.
Claudia had used that memory on the Web site to contact research subjects.
Drew was aware that Melinda had left the mattress. Wrapped in one of the sleeping bags like a giant cocoon, she peeked over his shoulder.
He hit Pause and turned toward her. “I thought you were tired.”
“This is interesting. Do you think the baby will remember that star?”
“It won’t be necessary.” He pulled her around so she was sitting on his lap. “We’re going to end this threat. Our child won’t have to give a second thought to Sykes or experiments or any of this.”
As she shifted around on his lap, he felt like he was wrestling with a giant stuffed animal.
“The sleeping bag isn’t working for me,” she said.
She shuffled across the floor to her suitcase. When she bent down to root through her clothes, the sleeping bag fell from her shoulders. He watched as gradually her naked body was revealed. The curve of her slender waist flared into her hips and her ripe, full buttocks. Damn, she was pretty. He was tempted to turn off the DVD and make love to her again.
After slipping a nightshirt over her head, she came back toward him with a prim librarian smile lifting the corners of her wide mouth. She settled easily on his lap. “Start it up.”
As Claudia’s narration continued, a series of still photos showed a standard-looking laboratory. She talked more about Stewart. He’d died in an accident that was probably murder. With Sykes in charge, there were no ethical boundaries. Experimentation on young subjects produced better results, and the researchers were on the lookout for kids with the I gene. When these children were located, Sykes went to great lengths to recruit them. Claudia cited the example of Jack and his twin brother, who came to The Facility after the suspicious death of their parents.
This time it was Melinda who hit Pause. “Do you think Sykes killed your mom and dad?”
“I’ll never know for sure.”
“I don’t think Sykes was involved in their death.”
“Why not?”
She rested her hand on his cheek. Her touch felt cool and soothing. “Sykes didn’t grab you immediately after they died. You bounced around in foster care for several years. If he arranged their accident to get to you, it seems like he would have scooped you into his net right away.”
“Like he did with Jack and his twin.”
Drew never thought he’d be glad about the time he spent in foster care, but he was pleased to latch on to a theory that meant the death of his parents wasn’t his fault.
He started the DVD again. The screen was filled with a series of photographs of a small, slight man with dark eyes and wild hair. In many of the pictures he wore a lab coat. In others, he had on a rumpled suit. These photos showed an age progression, from messy brown hair to wiry, tangled, white locks. It was Sykes.
Drew remembered that face in many incarnations. He’d been acquainted with the younger Sykes at the lab. The memory struck a physical chord. He remembered constraints, being unable to move while he was poked and prodded. And needles that pierced his skin. His skin prickled as he remembered an unbearable fear.
He paused on a full-length shot of Sykes. His white hair looked like he’d stuck his finger in an electrical socket. His necktie was lopsided. His fists thrust deep into the pockets of his trousers.
Drew recognized that posture. Sykes was the man he’d seen on the Amalfi cliffs in Italy. Sykes had been standing beside the man called Blue. “He was after me in Europe.”
Melinda twisted around to look into his eyes. “You saw him?”
“I didn’t know who he was, but he looked familiar.” If Drew hadn’t been so focused on escape, he could have confronted Sykes. “I let him get away.”
“Don’t blame yourself,” she said. “You played it smart. You evaded capture.”
“My days of being on the run are over. I’m going to end this thing.”
The next section on the DVD started with a road map showing the location of The Facility. Another map followed; this one showed the natural terrain. Rugged cliffs. Thick forests. A narrow creek that flowed from a kidney-shaped lake. The picture switched to a handheld camera focused through a windshield. The twisting mountain roads looked like thousands of other routes through the Black Hills. The person holding the camera left the vehicle and walked on a path. Behind a towering granite stone was the entrance to a limestone cave.
“Impressive secrecy,” Drew said. “Aerial photos wouldn’t have shown this location.”
The camera turned in a circle, recording the surroundings. He hit Pause and pointed. “Do you see that little shack? By those other rocks?”
“It doesn’t look much bigger than an outhouse.”
“Sentries could be posted there. If anybody happened to stumble into the area, they’d be turned back.”
“Or shot,” she said. “Harlan might have been telling the truth when he said he couldn’t find the place.”
But Drew wasn’t about to let his foster father off the hook. “He had eight years, and the map shows The Facility wasn’t far from Lead. Harlan couldn’t find The Facility because he was scared.”
Melinda shuddered. “So am I.”
He couldn’t honestly tell her that there was nothing to fear. Great evil had taken place inside The Facility.
When the camera entered the cave, the picture wasn’t entirely clear. It looked as if there were barracks, several structures. The interior of one had been a laboratory with long counters and sinks. Another was a ransacked office with
file drawers hanging open. One was referred to as “the morgue,” but the camera didn’t go there. The examination rooms were shells, devoid of equipment. Some of the housing was dormitory style, fairly comfortable. Other spaces were cages, barred jail cells.
“Terrible,” Melinda whispered. “Why would children have to be locked up?”
“They had abilities. They might have been dangerous.”
Had he been locked up in that dark cave? He couldn’t remember, and maybe it was better that he didn’t have a clear recollection.
The rest of the DVD showed mug shots of various scientists and lab technicians, suspected of being involved with Sykes. An unfocused photo of a man with a shaved head could have been one of the three—Red, Blue or Green.
Next, there were photos of people who had been subjects of the experiments, each with a brief biography. The first was Jack Maddox. Next was Matt Whitlock, a rangy guy in a cowboy hat who had the ability to manipulate thought. A businessman named Kane Black was capable of superspeed. Zack O’Hara, the undercover FBI agent who had located The Facility, was telekinetic.
There were others with abilities. Other victims.
Melinda snuggled against his chest. Her body molded against him. “This is an impressive group. Looking at all these people with their special talents, I can almost understand why these experiments were undertaken.”
His arm snaked around her rib cage, and he pulled her close. “It started off as a good plan.”
“Then turned evil.” She turned her head to kiss his jaw. “If someone had told you that you could have the ability to heal yourself, would you have volunteered?”
“The experiments started when I was ten,” he reminded her. “Too young to make that kind of life-changing decision.”
“And now?”
If he had his life to do over, he’d make changes, starting with keeping his parents alive. His years on the run, always looking over his shoulder, had been hell. But he’d done okay. “There’s one thing I wouldn’t have done differently.”
