by Amy McKinley
“She wasn’t always like this.” Thoughts of my sister played on repeat.
“Anabella?” The TV was on with the volume low. I soaked up the strength and heat from his body, lying my head against his chest.
I nodded. “We used to fight when we were little. But we were also friends, for the most part.” I thought about that some more. “Well, so long as I did what she wanted.” He swept my legs onto his lap, and I let out a sigh of contentment.
“And your parents? Did they treat you the same or defer to her moods?”
I let his question marinate for a few seconds. “A combination, I think. They tried to curb her temper, but then it seemed they just removed either her or me from whatever the issue was. As we got older, Bella wanted independence. When I tagged along with her, it was okay until it wasn’t.”
“How did she handle you being around when she wanted to do her own thing?”
I liked that he was letting me talk. I wanted to work out my feelings for my twin. Feeling as if I was half of a person without her sucked. When I didn’t remember my past, I had a sense of loss, but my life was fulfilling. With Bella in the same city, I wanted to maintain my individuality. She wasn’t good for me, even if she was a part of me. “My family dealt with her as best they could. Bella connected with my dad more, as she was adventurous. I liked to hang out in the kitchen with my mom.” I shrugged. “It worked well enough.”
Trev ran his fingers through my hair in long, dragging strokes.
“At least until about the time we realized boys were… carriers of cooties.”
His chest vibrated as deep laughter spilled forth. “Ah, the era of cooties.”
I smiled. “Yeah. Then we both had our first crush, and I became a whole new level of competition to my sister. It was then that she told me I shouldn’t exist and that since nature hadn’t corrected its mistake, she would do so.”
My sister was a twisted being.
Darkness had fallen, and the air had turned a few degrees cooler. Jules was dozing on the couch. I hadn’t planned for her to miss out on the meeting with Connor, but she needed to rest. From the cover of the trees, a dark form separated from the inky void to my left. I recognized Connor’s shape as he came closer. When he lifted his hand, I caught sight of a folder. We would need light, so I motioned for him to follow me inside.
The sliding-glass door rolled with a soft rumble as we stepped over the threshold. “Beer, water?”
I went to the counter to get a glass of some water for myself and, at his nod, one for him too.
“The men we have watching the house are aware of her twin.” Connor accepted the cup then took a seat at the table. The folder slapped against the surface.
I sat down and flipped the file open as Connor talked.
“Chris and Jack found a connection between the two villagers and the scientist, Sasha Orlova.”
“The one who died? And the family she stayed with?”
“Yes,” Connor confirmed. “In Siberia. Their family’s nephew is an archeologist who was engaged to Sasha.”
I lifted a picture of Omar Romanov, who was five feet, eleven inches tall, with dark, almost black hair. He had broad shoulders on a wiry frame. “Where is he working?”
“He was on a dig until a day after the Russian scientist died. The site hasn’t heard from him since.”
Sasha. So the link for at least some of the issues surrounding Jules was due to the unknown hemorrhagic fever outbreak in Russia, but I wasn’t following why. “Is Omar’s connection with Sasha or with the family she stayed with who died?”
Connor crossed his arms behind his head and tipped the chair to balance precariously on its back legs. “Yuri and Tiana Romanov were his aunt and uncle. Sasha was his fiancé.”
Revenge. “So Omar targeted the laboratory and specifically Jules once he learned she developed the formula the Russian scientists were using. Going out on a limb here and guessing he’s angry because his fiancée and family didn’t benefit from Jules’s help, even though her formula could have potentially saved them.”
“Seems that way.”
“What we haven’t figured out yet is how he gained knowledge about the restricted vector.” I rubbed my hand over my tired eyes. “The antibody shot, sure—that’s what Jules was sharing with Russia. But the gene-editing tool kit, she’d have to get permission for.” Omar had to be connected in some way, and how high up would be the determining factor. We had to know if he planned to use it for his country while they launched biowarfare.
“Rich is aware of the threat, and we have all eyes out for Omar and permission to question him, should we find him first.” Connor’s fist clenched. “We need to assume the worst.”
“We do.” I couldn’t have agreed more. “Do we have any idea where he is?” I committed the picture of Omar’s wide forehead, deep-set dark eyes, oddly proportioned frame, and square jaw to memory. In contrast to Jules’s five-five and slight build, he would’ve appeared much taller. My focus strayed to Jules as I assured myself she that was on the couch, resting and safe.
“Chris is working on facial recognition to see if he pops up anywhere. I’m sure Rich has other people on it too.”
“Because of the nature of the deaths and who was involved, I wonder if Omar fed the head of the Russian lab information about the restricted military vector.”
“Makes sense.” Connor dropped his chair back to its rightful position. “But how did Omar learn about it in the first place?”
“That is the question, isn’t it?”
A trickle of sunlight splashed across the bed, tiptoeing over Jules’s sheet-covered hip. My arms tightened around her, and she cuddled closer, a sigh escaping her parted lips. The fan of her long, thick eyelashes cast a spiky web over her high cheekbones.
If only we could stay in bed all day today, but we can’t.
I had to find Omar and question him, and Jules insisted that she had to go in to the office. Once past the front desk, she would be safe. They’d been alerted about the sister, and Jules had a restricted-security-clearance-access card and a fingerprint scan that let the staff know she was the twin who was allowed inside.
I glanced at the clock. We had about two minutes before the alarm was going to go off. I wanted to savor the moments with her in my arms. Fear had a choke hold on her—on me—but I had to believe that she would be safe. Part of the worry came from not being able to be at her side twenty-four seven, though I knew the police were looking for both Omar and Bella due to the attack on Carl. After we caught Omar, I would override Jules’s protests about job shadowing. She would be okay during work hours, and I would find him.
Jules stirred again, and I groaned. If only we had time before she had to go to the office, we could make love again. I knew her internal alarm was going off, though the actual one had one more minute. I pressed my lips to her forehead, and her lashes fluttered open. Sleep-drugged eyes blinked at me. Unable to resist, I dropped to her soft, plump lips, brushing mine over them. She wiggled impossibly closer as I tugged her bottom lip into my mouth.
The shrill beep of her alarm went off, and we pulled apart, both of us grinning. “Guess that’s our cue, huh?” I would haven given anything to stay there with her, but we both had time constraints. “Tonight, you’re all mine.”
A delicate flush infused her cheeks, and I gave in to one more long, exploratory kiss. She felt so right in my arms. How I got so lucky to have found her was beyond me.
Reluctantly, we pulled apart. While she jumped into the shower, I went to the kitchen to make coffee. If I’d followed her, we would have been an hour late to work, but she’d told me how much she wanted to finish the testing for the healing salve so it could be sent off for FDA approval. Given the military connection for the product, the tool kit’s vector, and the antibody injections, the FDA time had been fast-tracked.
I understood why it was so important to her and didn’t even try to argue. The scar on her arm caused her a lot of distress. If she’d had th
e salve when the injury occurred, there would’ve been a good chance that the scar would have been minimal. Plastic surgery was another option she’d been considering, but she had rejected the idea of it. I would support her decision either way. The mark didn’t bother me from an aesthetic angle, though the meaning behind it did.
I felt her approach. Her arms wrapped around my waist, and she pressed against my back.
“Your turn.” Jules leaned around me and smiled. “I’ll make breakfast.”
“Coffee’s on the counter.”
“Mm, thank you.”
She was such a coffee fiend. Before I’d finished pointing to where I’d set her mug, she had it in her hands. That was my cue to shower. We had twenty minutes to finish getting ready, eat, and be out the door.
A shrill ring sounded from Jules’s phone. While cooking, she lifted the phone to her ear. “It’s Becs.” She let me know before focusing on the call. Silence stretched as I listened to Jules try unsuccessfully to get a word in. A full minute passed before she did.
“I’m okay. I swear.” She flashed me a panicked look. “We should use a code word. That way you’ll know it’s me. Wait a sec.” She handed the phone to me and then brandished her scarred arm. “Tell her you have proof it’s me before I tell her the code word.”
“Becs.” I growled in the phone. “What’s going on?” I needed in on what was happening.
Her friend’s frantic voice pierced my eardrum. “I got a call from a blocked number, and I answered it, you know, because of all the crazy things happening and I was worried about Jules. This person said she was Jules and that I needed to come to her right away. That she was scared. I said I would then hung up and called Jules’s cell to make sure it was her. It wasn’t! Please tell me you’re doing something to keep her safe. From what Jules told me, her sister is dangerous.”
I assured Becs we would keep Jules safe and cautioned her about accepting any calls unless Jules said the code word they’d come up with. Bella was getting desperate. I would get my hands on her soon.
It took another few minutes for Jules to get off the phone with her friend and to calm down. Knowing that Becs wouldn’t come to us was reassuring. Bella couldn’t be in two places at once, and it seemed that Jules was highest on her priority list.
Breakfast passed quickly, and after we’d cleaned up the dishes, we headed to her research facility. Not much later, I pulled up in front of her office building. I’d shown her the picture of Omar and explained what we thought and what to do if she spotted him on our drive.
Jules leaned over, and the scent of magnolias wrapped around me as she pressed a kiss to my mouth.
“Be safe.” I wanted to follow her, but my phone pinged with a text. The fact she would be surrounded by tightened security in the building aided in my letting her go inside without me.
As she shifted away with her hand on the door handle, she flashed me a confident grin. “I will. I’ll text you before I head down at the end of the day. Probably about five. I think I can get everything finished early.”
Throwing the car in Park illegally, I got out and rounded to her side because I would feel better if I walked her inside. She threaded our fingers together as we matched our pace to the door. I scanned the area. A sixth sense prickled my awareness. He was nearby.
I spared a glance at my phone. It was Chris: Omar sighted a few blocks from Jules’s building. At the large glass door, I squeezed her hand once before she released me and made her way to security. Not until she passed through and waved did I turn. From the corner of my eye, I caught a flash of a man who fit Omar’s description leaning against the outside edge of the building and facing away. My gut said it was him.
I sprinted to the end of the building. The sidewalk was crowded, but not enough to hinder my path. When I was an arm’s length away, he turned. Got him.
The smell of bleach clung to the open storage unit we’d converted some time ago into an interrogation room. We’d combined two side-by-side cells so that one held a small, segregated office, and the main one could fit an SUV and had a drainage pipe for easy wash down after questioning. It’d been a while since we’d used the space—the last time was because of Hawk and Stella, but I couldn’t let my mind wander there. I needed answers.
Connor stood next to me with his arms crossed over his chest. Omar was zip-tied to a steel chair bolted into the ground. One punch to the jaw around the side of Jules’s office building, and he’d gone down. From there, I’d hoisted him over my shoulder, shoved him into the back of the SUV, and contacted Connor to meet me.
I took point, but Connor’s intimidating presence served a necessary purpose. I wanted Omar off-balance. Silence stretched as I contemplated what I wanted to do. Violence bled from my pores, but that wasn’t how I wanted to conduct his questioning, at least not entirely. After a few well-placed hits and threats, Omar’s agitation, discomfort, and fear were at a fine point where he would talk.
Omar strained against his restraints. “Holding me won’t stop anything.”
Interesting. “How’s that?”
Connor moved around behind Omar and pressed a gun to his temple. We wouldn’t pull the trigger, but he didn’t know that. The clock was ticking on whatever would happen to Jules. I could feel it in my bones.
Beads of sweat formed on Omar’s forehead and above his lip. I shifted my gaze from him to Connor. Omar broke. “Anabella.”
Goddamn it. “How do you know her?”
“I met her first. Thought she was the scientist. I went after her, but she explained who she was, and I saw Juliana then too. We’re working together.”
“Why did you go after Jules in the first place? She didn’t have anything to do with Sasha or your aunt and uncle.”
“She could have helped them!”
It would go nowhere. He was acting out of grief, and I doubted he would listen, but I had to set the record straight. “No one knew they’d contracted the illness. When Sasha’s boss reached out to Jules’s employer, it was too late.”
Deranged laughter spilled from Omar’s lips. “She’ll pay. A life for a life.”
After going through lobby security, I slowed my pace. Only a few minutes had passed since Trev had dropped me at work, but I didn’t have it in me to rush upstairs—I suddenly missed Fran with a vengeance. I was tired and dragging. The sublime scent of coffee drew my gaze to the little café tucked near the elevators. There wasn’t enough caffeine in the world to get me through the day, and the thought of having a latte, as opposed to a subpar drink from the coffee machine we had in our break room, was too great to pass up. I was stopping there first.
Another wave of sadness crashed over me as I stepped into the small café, but the scent of coffee beans and sugar hit me like a balm, and I moved to the counter, a little more balanced in my loneliness. I wouldn’t ever forget Fran, but I was finding my way again, especially with Becs’s and Trev’s unwavering support.
The barista was in a mad dash, filling an order that had probably been called in ahead of time from upstairs. She finished fitting four cups into a cardboard tray before she cast a hurried glance my way. “What’ll it be?”
I placed my order while her phone rang nonstop. It wasn’t busy inside, but the barista was a flurry of motion, trying to keep up with the phone orders.
I dropped into a chair in the rear corner and flipped through my email on my phone while I waited. My thoughts turned back to Becs. I was relieved she lived a good distance away. If I let myself dwell on the what-ifs of her residing nearby while Bella was stalking those around me, terror would have had a firm choke hold on me. For the time being, I thought she was safe—not only that, but she was aware of my twin, which Fran and Carl hadn’t been.
“Here you are.”
I looked up and flashed a small smile at the harried barista, who’d delivered my cinnamon-and-cream latte with barely a glance before dashing back to her orders. I took a sip, and my eyelids drifted closed. Heaven. Seriously, I needed this more than
I thought.
“Juliana.”
Gah. Mid-sip, I choked, and my eyes went wide. Holy hell, I guess we’re doing this, and with our full, formal names too. “Anabella.” In the chair opposite me, my twin sat wearing a smile identical to the one I’d given the life-giving barista a moment before. Even given the passage of time, sitting across from her was like looking in a mirror. She was even dressed as I was, in a lightweight cream sweater and black pants. But twins weren’t meant to be carbon copies of each other, at least not on the inside.
Even so, her thick curtain of dark brown hair, almond-shaped eyes lined in a smoky-gray liner, and bee-stung red lips were uncanny. The minimal amount of makeup I wore was replicated to perfection on her face. But she didn’t want to be me, not really.
Panic spiraled through me, and I dropped my gaze to the cup in my hand in horror. Had she…?
“Relax. I didn’t poison your drink.” Bella chuckled. “That would have been too simple.”
Throwing caution to the wind, my gaze strayed from my attention-demanding sister and searched every inch of the café for anyone that could help me. When she followed my perusal, mocking me no doubt, I slid my phone from the tabletop and put it in my lap, hitting record.
Only the barista was in the café with us. Bella grinned. “I wouldn’t, if I were you. I’ll hurt her.”
I couldn’t have another innocent person harmed on my account. I gulped then, with a shaky voice, asked the first question that popped into my head. “How did you get past security?” I needed to keep her occupied, and there was nothing more that Bella liked than talking about herself.
“Easy. In appearance, we’re identical.” She pursed her lips. “And I took that broken keycard you had in your junk drawer. Didn’t take much to have it replaced, and I had access to everything in your office. Your research, workstation, assistant… even your boss.”
