Unspeakable (Beyond Human)

by Nina Croft

  Was it because of that vague idea formulating in his mind? Was she his chance to discover the truth at last?

  He closed his eyes for a moment, leaned back against the wall, and slowed his breathing. He should end this. Kill her. Or have her killed. Fergus would do it. She wouldn’t suffer. He would make it quick.

  “Well, gee thanks, but no thanks,” she said, and he opened his eyes.

  “So you can read my mind?”

  “You’d already reached that conclusion. I’m not telling you anything you don’t know.”

  “If it seems impossible, then chances are it’s the truth.” He shifted on the bed so he faced her. “How much can you read?”

  She shrugged. “Not much. Just top-level stuff, things you’re thinking right now.”

  Was she telling the truth?

  She gave him a small smile. “Of course.”

  Christ, it was enough to do his head in. “Is Suzi your real name?”

  “No. Thank God. It’s Sadie. Sadie Brooks.”

  He liked it. It suited her. Certainly more than Suzi. He exhaled. What was he supposed to do now?

  “You could let me go. I won’t tell anyone about you or your secret little club. Honest.”

  He snorted. He should definitely kill her.

  “You could, but there wouldn’t be much point. I’ve already told my friends your name. They’ll be hunting for you.”

  “The brunette from Forrester’s?”

  “Yup.”

  Did he believe her?

  “Of course you do. I never lie. Well, not without a really good reason.”

  …

  He wanted something from her. She just couldn’t get to the bottom of what it was. Maybe because her mind was still full of that image, of his head between her thighs. Warm, wet heat flooded her; she could almost feel the stroke of his tongue as though he were really there.

  Would he kill her?

  Part of her believed never, but was her judgment sound where this man was concerned? Whether her dreams were really just that—and she wouldn’t allow herself to believe anything else—there was something that tied her to this man. At the same time, he had killed before. His morals had been warped at an early age. He’d grown up believing in the Conclave, and his loyalty was absolute.

  Or maybe not quite absolute. There was something…

  “What were you doing at Forrester’s that night?” he asked, the question dragging her from her thoughts.

  How much could she tell him? He knew very little about the Tribe; he was guessing much of it. If he understood their true purpose—to destroy the Conclave, to tear it down—then he very likely would put that bullet in her head. But perhaps this was an opportunity to find out what had happened to Kaitlin and the other hostages, and she and the others could finally put them to rest.

  “We were looking for information about the Conclave.”

  At her words, his eyes widened; he hadn’t expected her to actually give him an answer. “You’re willing to talk to me?”

  She pursed her lips as she considered her words. “You want something from me. You think I can help you in some way…getting information at a guess. And if so, then maybe we can help each other.”

  “You know what I want?”

  She shook her head. “Not the details. You’re…conflicted. You still haven’t decided whether you’re going to ask me yet. Probably you suspect the truth and aren’t ready to accept it.”

  He looked away. He didn’t like her answer, but then very few people were totally honest with themselves. At least, when it came to what mattered the most. Finally, he looked back with a shrug.

  “Maybe you’re right. So you went to Forrester to find out about the Conclave. Why? What’s your interest in us?”

  “You killed my friends.”

  The sad thing was, he wasn’t even shocked by her answer and certainly wasn’t disbelieving; she reckoned the Conclave had killed a lot of people. “How?”

  “They were hostages, taken six months ago.”

  “Then you don’t know they’re dead.”

  “They must be dead. We’ve heard nothing. They were being used as leverage to lure the rest of us in. Then everything went quiet and we’ve heard nothing since.”

  He was considering how much to reveal to her, but came to the conclusion that there was no reason not to tell her. Anyway, now that she knew there was something, she could wriggle it out of his brain. But he was already speaking.

  “They’re probably not dead.”

  God, she wanted to believe there was a chance, but they’d gone over it so many times. Finally, they’d lost hope. “Why would you think that?”

  “The Conclave tends to compartmentalize things, including projects. It reduces the chances of anything coming out. Your group was under the control of a man…”

  He was still unhappy about revealing this stuff; it went against everything he’d grown up believing. She decided to help him out. “Travis.”

  He snorted. “Yes.”

  “You don’t like him.”

  He was surprised at that. He’d never really thought about it, but no, he didn’t like Travis. “It doesn’t matter. Six months ago, Travis disappeared. It’s not unheard of. I’m guessing your project went off track, and he took himself out of harm’s way. He must have believed there was a chance you might trace things back to him. Though I think that would be unlikely.” He didn’t like that aspect, hated that he didn’t understand why Travis had vanished. “That’s why you haven’t heard anything. Why there have been no further demands. In the absence of Travis, the project would have gone into lockdown. No major changes. But there’s no reason the hostages would have been killed. Especially if they were potentially valuable. As I’m guessing your friends would be.”

  Did she believe him? He was telling the truth as he saw it. Could Kaitlin and the others still be alive? They could have been drugged, isolated. At one point, the colonel had kept Kaitlin in a specially constructed cell he’d had built, which had sealed off her brain waves so she couldn’t communicate with the outside. Maybe they were all being kept like that.

  Her heart started beating faster. “Can you find out?”

  “Given time. Travis is being brought in. He’s expected soon. He’s the only one who can open the files.”

  Unless he died, and then all his projects would be shut down, the files destroyed. And then the hostages would be killed. Protocol.

  “You’d better make sure he doesn’t die, then.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t suppose I could ask you to stay out of my mind.”

  She grinned. “You could ask.” She decided not to mention the reflector devices, which, if worn, would stop her getting into his head. No doubt once his friend turned up, he’d find out for himself, so she might as well make the most of it. She was finally relaxing. It was sinking in that maybe she was going to avoid the whole torture thing. And that there was a chance the others were alive. She needed to tell Jake. He’d felt so guilty, as though he was responsible. But in order to tell Jake, she needed to get out of here and back to the city where there was a better chance he could locate her. Or if she played this right, she could contact him herself.

  What did Ethan want from her? Information presumably, but what sort? She reached out and eased into his mind. But he’d locked down tight. He was good at this. All she could get was his surface thoughts.

  “I’ll help you,” she said. “Whatever you want, I’ll find it for you. In return, I need you to let me out of here. And then, find out if my friends are still alive and where they are.”

  He considered her for a moment. He had to make a choice. Take her offer or kill her. And he’d gone beyond killing her. Afterward, he would find a way to shut her down, get rid of the threat to the Conclave. Though who knew where his loyalties would lie if she actually found the truth. That was interesting. What was he expecting to find out?

  But she was in the same dilemma. The Conclave had to go down, and he was par
t of the Conclave. Kane had said that outcome wasn’t negotiable. They were a threat to the secrecy of his goddamn stupid mission. But no way were they bringing anyone down until they were absolutely sure there was no chance that the others were alive. She held her breath, keeping her mouth closed while he worked it through.

  He didn’t trust her, and planned to keep her close. He was considering the possible ways he could do that without drawing undue attention to her. His girlfriend? He decided not—it would look odd for a girlfriend to accompany him to the office. His new personal assistant? Better. This could work. When he finally reached that decision, she almost slumped with relief.

  “Let’s go,” he said.

  They were on.

  “From now on,” he added, “I don’t let you out of my sight.”

  That wasn’t good news, but she’d work around it. “Just get me out of here.”

  Chapter Nine

  Tears pricked at Kaitlin’s eyes, and she dashed a hand across them.

  Hope was a terrible thing.

  What had she expected? That he’d be back in five minutes with the answer that they were all alive and well?

  It hadn’t happened that way.

  Two goddamn days. And nothing.

  Had they done it on purpose? Her goddamn behavioral scientist? Had he built her up, knowing the waiting would tear her apart?

  She blinked hard before the tears could fall. She never cried. She hadn’t since Sam, and she wasn’t going to let that little weasel break her. She sniffed and got up from the bed. There was no mirror, but she could imagine what she looked like. She crossed into the tiny bathroom alcove and splashed some cold water on her face, and was wiping it on the scratchy towel when she sensed someone approaching.

  She threw the towel down and hurried back, sat on the cot, and tried to look relaxed.

  It was the doctor. She struggled to keep her hope within manageable proportions, and her face blank. Even as the door opened, she plucked the information from his mind and was on her feet as he stepped through.

  They were alive.

  She almost stumbled with the overwhelming relief. Pure joy poured through her. But she bit down hard on her lower lip to stop her grin; it wouldn’t do to let him know how much this meant to her.

  “Kaitlin.” He nodded to her. “I have some good news.”

  “I know. Take me to them.”

  She searched his mind as she followed him down the corridor. He knew little else. He’d put in her request after he’d left her two days ago, and the reply had come through yesterday. He’d spent the time since then getting a room ready with the shielding. All he knew of her friends was that they were alive. They had their own doctors. He was here purely to work with her.

  She tried to reach out with her mind, searching for Jake, trying to make contact, but there was still too much of the drug in her system, and her powers were limited. She couldn’t reach the others, either.

  She kept her breathing slow and steady, but adrenaline was zinging in her blood. This was the first time she had been out of that cell in months. She felt disorientated, shaky. What if it was all some lie to get her hopes up and then—

  “The guards tell me you haven’t been eating,” the doctor said.

  That explained the shakiness. She hadn’t thought about it much but no, she’d not been eating. Her appetite had been bad since she got here—probably due to lack of fresh air, the drugs, no exercise—and in the last couple of days, it had been nonexistent. She hadn’t touched her breakfast that morning. Or her dinner the night before.

  At last they stopped, and she held her breath. She could read nothing through the door. It had obviously been shielded. Were they there?

  She’d never been alone in her life before this. She’d always had Sam and then later, Jake and the rest of the Tribe. They’d been so close, and she hadn’t realized how much she had relied on that bond, that intimacy, until she’d been isolated.

  Then the door opened and her mind flooded with their thoughts.

  Dexter, Connor, and Stefan. They were so beautiful, she nearly burst into tears. She caught herself—she didn’t want them to think she’d totally lost it.

  Only Teagan wasn’t here. She’d been injured in the attack when they were taken, but she would have survived…if they hadn’t killed her, trying to force Jake to come in. That had been Kane’s doing.

  All three guys were tall, with the pale skin and dark blue eyes of all the Tribe. They were dressed as she was, in gray sweats and T-shirts. They’d all lost weight since she’d last seen them and all had dark shadows under their eyes, and six months’ worth of beards on their cheeks. But they were essentially unharmed. And they were still the most beautiful thing she had ever seen in her entire life. She stood for a moment, just staring, as she absorbed everything. They were pleased to see her as well, and she could feel an inane grin forming on her face.

  She took a step inside the room. “You guys look like shit.”

  “And you look totally and completely beautiful.” That was Dex. He’d thought she was dead. They all had. She was about to fall apart, but she managed to hold everything together tight so she wouldn’t lose it.

  “Let it go,” Stefan said, opening his arms.

  She did and her mind cracked open. She took the last few steps, and his arms wrapped around her, and suddenly, she was crying and not even trying to stop the tears. Stefan rubbed her back, while Dex rested his hand on one shoulder, Connor on the other. They’d never been much for physical touching—as a group, they hadn’t needed it—but now love and warmth flowed through her.

  She sniffed and stepped back. “I’m starving. Otherwise, I really wouldn’t be going all mushy like this.”

  “Of course not,” Stefan murmured.

  The doctor cleared his throat, and she turned reluctantly to face him.

  “You have half an hour,” he said. He stepped back and out of the room, the guards following him, and the door clicked shut behind them, leaving the four of them alone.

  She looked around. The room wasn’t large, but some effort had been made to make it not look like a cell. Although there were no windows, the place was light and airy, the walls painted a pale yellow instead of plain white. There were two sofas with a table in between them. A tray stood on the table with coffee and a plate of sugar-covered doughnuts. Her stomach rumbled. Suddenly, she was starving.

  Stefan laughed and tugged her to the sofa, pushed her gently down, and handed her a doughnut. The others also sat, and for a minute they all ate. She could sense their hunger—she wasn’t the only one who hadn’t been eating. She ate a second doughnut, then poured herself a cup of coffee and sat back.

  “So how do we get the hell out of here?” she asked. “Because doughnuts aside, the hospitality sucks.”

  Dex chuckled, but then went serious. “I wish I knew.”

  “We have to presume the others think we’re dead, or they would have found us by now.”

  “There’s no way to find us, not while we’re shielded. We have to get out of here. At least out of this room.”

  Dex got up, went and tried the door. Of course it was locked, and he shrugged, then came and sat down next to her, searching her face. “Have you been okay? They haven’t hurt you?”

  “Not so much. I’m alive, and once I’m out of here and I’ve killed that fucker Kane, I’ll be fine.”

  He smiled. “You always were a bloodthirsty little thing.”

  “Not so much of the little.” She sighed and put down her cup, looking around the room. “So what do we do? This is all very nice”—she waved a hand at her surroundings—“but I’m guessing it’s just a tactic to get our cooperation.”

  “Why now, though? What’s changed?”

  “I don’t know. The guy who brought me here knows nothing. They tell him only what he needs to know.”

  “I think we should go along with them,” Stefan said. “Find out what they want, and see if we can’t get a little freedom. If they don’t kn
ow what we can do, maybe we can use that. See if we can get access to a computer or a phone.”

  “Unlikely,” Dex said. “But right now, it’s the best we’ve got.”

  “So we go along with them?”

  They all nodded. She didn’t like it, none of them did, but there was little choice. For now. But she already felt stronger. Just knowing they were here and alive, unharmed, gave her back some of her hope.

  The door opened and the doctor entered, followed by the guards. He’d been given new instructions, and he wasn’t happy.

  “I have a few days to get your cooperation,” he said. “After that…”

  She plucked the thought from his horrified mind. “After that…one of us dies.”

  …

  Ethan had been telling the truth, he hadn’t let her out of his sight. Though right now, he had his back to her. What a gentleman.

  They were at his place, a penthouse in a new tower block on the Isle of Dogs. Fergus had driven them here. Fergus didn’t like her, and he certainly didn’t trust her with his precious boss. While she was on the scene, he planned to stick close as well. Right now, he was out in the sitting room, pacing and wondering whether he should say something. He was worried Ethan was acting out of character. Apparently, Ethan had never had a proper girlfriend in the whole time he’d known Fergus.

  And why did she like that idea?

  Because he’s mine.

  No, he wasn’t, and she had to stop thinking those sorts of thoughts.

  She left Fergus to his pacing and turned her attention to Ethan. He had his hands shoved in his pants pockets as he stared out of the window. He had broad shoulders tapering to lean hips and a great ass.

  She sighed and tried to concentrate on the task at hand: choosing what to wear. Apparently, she needed to look the part of his personal assistant if anyone was going to believe the ruse. He’d made a call from the car, and this was the result. The bed was piled with clothes, all of them so not her. “Do I really need to wear this shit?”

  “Yes.”

  A man of many words. He was obviously used to people doing as they were told. She wanted to argue some more, but she also wanted to get out of there and go to Ethan’s office. She’d told Rose the address last night, and she was betting Jake would have someone watching the place. So she was going to have to suck it up and play nice. For now.