“There actually aren’t many,” she said. “Each sample is divided into three portions for testing purposes. Here.” She tapped on one of the screens to pull up a DNA strand.
Gabriel came closer to follow along with her explanation.
“This is your DNA. All living things have DNA similar to this. The Devil is in the details. There’s only about a three percent difference between the DNA of humans and chimpanzees. Beyond that, in humans, there are tiny differences which account for physical characteristics, intelligence, temperament, et cetera.
“What I need to do is match a panther’s DNA anomalies as closely as possible to yours. That’s one third of it. I need to make sure the two will actually fit together chemically, and I can’t do that with numbers and formulas. Then I need to match a trigger to both strands. That will allow you to change your shape from one to the other. Once I have that, and I am sure the sample is viable, I’ll use the last third, the untouched one, to actually create the serum.”
“Sounds complicated.”
“It is.”
“Can I help?”
He didn’t realize how close he was standing until she shifted away. “This is a delicate process. I’ll need space and some peace and quiet. If you want to make yourself useful, you can program an irrigation system up in the solar.”
“You sure you’re not only trying to get rid of me?”
*
All night long, Amelia had tossed and turned, remembering his kiss. And when she’d finally fallen asleep, she’d dreamed about it. Only it had ended differently in her dream—with Gabriel carrying her into the lab and sweeping some glassware off the table. He’d laid her on it and ripped her shirt down the middle, the way he’d said he would. He’d suckled her nipples so hard she could feel them throbbing even now and when he’d mounted her…
In the complete privacy of her mind she couldn’t call him by his last name anymore. Hell yes, she wanted to get rid of him for a while! Every time she looked at him from the corner of her eye, she remembered that kiss and her dream, and that was a dangerous mental place to be when she literally held his life in her hands.
“I need to concentrate right now,” she told him. “Believe me, you don’t want me to mess this up.”
“Fair enough,” he said. Amelia almost sagged with relief. Until he said, “How long do you think you’ll need?”
A decade. Maybe two to get that dream out of my system. “I don’t know. Why?” If he said something suggestive and inappropriate, she might deck him. Or jump him. Possibly both. As off balance as she was, it wasn’t an unreasonable assumption.
“Lunch break,” he said.
Oh. “Maybe two hours,” she said, “two and a half.”
“Sounds good. I’ll see you then.”
She waved absently, counting the seconds until he walked out the door.
But, of course, he wouldn’t leave it at that. “By the way,” he said from the doorway. “You were mistaken before. I know exactly what I want. I just haven’t figured out the proper way to get it.”
The next trio almost slipped out of her hands. God, his tone! And she could feel his gaze on her. She set the trio down carefully and braced herself against the table. Do not look at him. Don’t—
She looked.
But Gabriel had already turned away. A second later, he was gone.
And for some reason, Amelia felt disappointed.
* * * *
Two hours later, Amelia hadn’t heard a peep from upstairs.
She’d already eliminated seven of the eleven samples as incompatible. Her pool of resources was starting to grow shallow. If she couldn’t find a suitable fit, she’d have to order another batch, which would mean another delay. More time with Gabriel.
Hoping for the best, Amelia took one of the next trio of samples and carefully removed the miniscule plastic rectangles with a grouping of cells between them. She inserted it into the extractor and started the sequence.
“Incoming call,” the computer said. She had the volume set on low in the lab so it wouldn’t jar her concentration.
Amelia frowned. Hadn’t Gabriel blocked all the coms?
Or had he only blocked outgoing calls?
She sucked in a breath. “Answer,” she said at once.
A small picture in picture appeared on her screen. She tapped on it to make it bigger. Hailey was there, wearing sunglasses. Her hair looked gray now, obviously wet. Hailey’s reckless transformation had not killed her, but the shock to her system had leeched out the color from her hair completely. She would forever wear it as a reminder of how close she’d come to dying.
There was hissing in the background. Was she on a beach? “Ams! Where the hell are you? I’ve been calling for two days!”
“I was…” attacked in my own home and taken prisoner by a madman who is paying me a fortune to try to make him into a shifter. And now I’m dreaming about him screwing my brains out on the sterile table in the lab. “…busy.” She had to clear her throat to find her voice again. “What’s up?”
“Are you okay?” Hailey said with a frown. “You look different. Kind of glowy.”
Glowy? She had no idea what to say to that.
Thankfully, Hailey didn’t seem to care. “Anyway, guess what?”
“You’re pregnant.”
“Uh, no. Guess again.”
“You got a job?”
Hailey raised an eyebrow. “Actually, yes. It seems someone roped me into this scientist gig, and now I got a title, the deed to a humongous lab on Torrey in my name, near unlimited research sources and some place called Royal Technologies, Inc. depositing hefty sums in my account every week. But that’s not it.”
You’re welcome, Amelia thought. The company paid Hailey royalties from sales of some thermo-regulator patches the two of them had developed recently. It pretty much guaranteed Hailey would never have to work again for the rest of her life.
“I got married!”
It shouldn’t have been unexpected, but that it had happened so quickly was a surprise. “Good!” Amelia said. “That means you have someone else to drive crazy now. Happy days!” Actually, they were happy. Jeremy Calen, the telepath Amelia had originally hired to track Hailey down, was a good man. One of the very few true gentlemen left in the universe. But he would never be cowed by Hailey, no matter how wild or out of control she got. Maybe he’d be a steadying influence on her. A sister could only hope.
Hailey laughed. “I’m not that bad, am I?”
Amelia raised an eyebrow. “Sweetie, look in the mirror. That’s all I have to say.”
“Oh, speaking of, look what I can do.” Hailey took off her sunglasses and leaned closer. Her skin changed color, faint rosettes blooming on her face. Her eyes became outlined in dramatic black, and then some of the rosettes faded while others became darker. “I never have to wear make up again!”
Brilliant. The woman who’d single handedly made herself into a shape shifter, then saved herself from a horribly slow and painful death, someone who had at least three times the strength and speed of a normal person, with senses so sharp she could pinpoint a rabbit deep underground, was most excited by the fact that she looked pretty.
“Glad to see you finally got your priorities straightened out,” Amelia said.
“Har, har,” Hailey said dryly. “So listen, Jer and I are going to be indisposed for a while, but I want you to come visit us on Torrey.”
“You’re settling down?” This was a shock. Hailey was such a free spirit, Amelia couldn’t imagine her with a steady home and hearth.
Hailey shrugged. “Maybe. So when are you coming over?”
“Oh, I don’t know, Hailey. I’m sort of in the middle of something right now.”
“You mean something is actually more important than seeing your baby sister shackled to the normal life and teasing the ever living hell out of her for it?” She frowned. “Wow. Must be serious. You’re not in trouble, are you?”
Well…
�
�’Cause I got the Special Unit on speed dial now, and some super awesome new tricks I’m dying to show off.”
Somewhere to the side, out of the picture, Amelia heard Jeremy mumble something about saving that for later, which made Hailey laugh.
“I’m good,” Amelia said. For now. “Got everything under control.” Not even close. “Just got a few things I need to take care of. A contract, sort of.” For the price of three ferric diamonds and my soul. “But once it’s done, I will definitely come see you.” Unless something goes very, very wrong. “Got any news on Tristan and Dara?”
Hailey gasped. “You mean you’re not keeping tabs on them?”
Amelia glared.
“Okay, okay. They’re good. Last I heard, the asshole—sorry, Tristan—was picking names for his litter. He and Dara were arguing about the wisdom of naming the firstborn Hunter Hunt. But to be frank we’ve kind of been avoiding each other whenever possible so…”
Amelia’s mouth twitched. She dearly hoped they wouldn’t do that to the child.
Jeremy said something else and Hailey nodded to him. “I have to go now. The tide is coming up and there’s these bioluminescent little squid things that light up the beach at moon rise.” She blew an exaggerated kiss. “Mwah, darling. I’ll try to check in at some point.” She winked and the screen went dark.
“Bye,” Amelia said belatedly. She almost missed her sister. Almost. In the absence of a friend, there was no one for her to talk to about the complication that was Gabriel Connors.
“Who was that?”
Speak of the devil… “Professional consult.”
“About bioluminescent squid things?”
The screen blinked green and a whole lot of text streamed over it. The DNA was a match. Because the machines and computers were all linked through internal logic, the program was already extracting all the necessary variables to plug into a formula for the trigger. It would try all possible options and then choose three that fit the best. Afterwards, it would be up to Amelia and her steady hand to test whether any of them were viable.
But that wouldn’t be for some time. While the computers worked, she had some time to spare on a lunch break.
“Good news?” Gabriel asked.
“Possibly,” Amelia replied. She checked everything over, and then stripped off her gloves and coat. “I might have found a suitable match. But I won’t know for certain until the trigger analysis is finished. Which means I have time for lunch.”
Chapter 9
September 24th, 3032, 1:35AM
She was in her solarium, but it felt more like a jungle. The plants were overgrown, hiding the pathway completely. The entire floor was covered with soft moss. It was hot and humid, the glass walls and ceiling trapping heat inside.
Amelia followed a path from memory to the artificial waterfall. The surface of the pond glistened and glittered in the moonlight. She could see something moving beneath the surface and frowned. Fish? But she hadn’t ordered any.
Then something drew her gaze to the waterfall itself and she watched as a looming shadow emerged. Clouds moved overhead, allowing moonlight to spear down and bathe the man in its glow.
Gabriel.
He stood waist deep in the pond, water trickling down his upper body. “Come to me,” he said, his gaze holding her captive; mesmerizing. “Come,” he said again, holding out his hand.
Amelia’s breathing became shallow. She knew what would happen if she succumbed to that hypnotic voice. Her body heated in anticipation while her mind screamed to stay away. She stepped over the edge into the pond. Her dress soaked instantly and slowed her down, tangling around her legs.
“Come,” Gabriel repeated, closer now. He disappeared beneath the surface, but she still heard his voice, commanding her.
The water was warm. His hands on her legs felt hotter. Amelia gasped when he caressed his way up her leg from the outside, his mouth following the same path on the inside.
“Come,” he said again, and this time his meaning was completely different…
Amelia woke with a start, out of breath. Her sheets were tangled around her legs and she was an inch away from falling off the bed. She moaned. This could not keep happening! How was she supposed to stay professional and detached when she kept dreaming things like that?
Now she wouldn’t be able to sleep at all.
But maybe…
She raised her head to check the door. Locked. Chair firmly in place beneath the door knob. Amelia bit her lip. Should she? Could she? It was nothing but a physiological impulse, after all. Perfectly natural and acceptable. No one ever had to know. Not that it was anything shameful…
Amelia closed her eyes. She could still see him half naked in the water, dark eyes burning for her. She couldn’t hear his wicked whisper anymore, but she remembered, and it made her shiver. A braver woman would have gone out there and made use of him, as he’d so insistently offered. A smarter woman would have stocked up on other alternatives.
Amelia groaned. Neither was an option. With only a small regretful sigh, she turned her head into her pillow and slipped her hand into her pajama bottoms.
A noise outside her door stilled her before she could get a good stroke. She stopped breathing. A voice. Gabriel? Was someone else in her home? Oh, God, what now!
Amelia kicked her way out of the tangle of sheets and reached for her baseball bat. She tiptoed to the door and strained to hear more. It was definitely Gabriel. Who was he talking to?
She carefully set the chair aside, eased the door open and slipped outside, quiet as a mouse. His voice was coming from the living room, where he’d made himself at home, but it was dark in there.
Amelia approached cautiously, clutching the bat, ready to bash someone a good one. Now he sounded agitated, mumbling something she couldn’t decipher.
He was—she approached the couch and frowned—sleeping?
Gabriel’s arms twitched and his brow furrowed. Definitely asleep. Dreaming. On the heels of her own, very disturbing dream, Amelia blushed. Dreams weren’t transferrable, were they? As far as she knew, Gabriel wasn’t a telepath. Thank God for that.
Just to make sure, she checked all the shadows and hidey holes for more intruders. There was no one, and the system was undisturbed. No one had gotten in, or made a call. Relieved there wasn’t another foul plot afoot, Amelia set down her bat.
Wow, he looked really troubled. She wondered what he dreamed about. “Gabriel?” Should she wake him?
He stilled at the sound of her voice, head turning toward her.
“It’s okay,” she said. “Just a dream.”
“Caesar,” he said, almost as a sigh. He had to be dreaming about Rome. By the looks of him, it wasn’t anything good, but the way he said that, almost reverently. Yet he wanted to kill the Caesar.
“Easy,” she said, reaching out a tentative hand to brush his hair back.
“Fucking bitch!” he suddenly snarled. His eyes snapped open, unseeing, and before she could pull back, his hand shot out and grabbed her around the neck.
Amelia choked on a scream that never made it past her throat. She pried at his hand, desperate for air, but the more she fought, the tighter he squeezed. Growing light headed, she knew any much longer and it would all be over. In a last ditch effort to save herself, she slapped him. Hard.
*
Gabriel felt the sting of a slap. Incensed, he shook his head hard and found himself in the dark living room, his hand wrapped around Amelia’s throat, not Caesar’s. With a harsh yell, he released her, horrified.
Amelia fell to the floor, coughing, wheezing. She was holding her neck while trying desperately to get away from him any way she could.
“Jesus.” He couldn’t believe what was happening. “Christ, I’m so sorry,” he said, reaching for her, needing to touch her and make sure she was alive and unharmed.
She crawled faster.
“Amelia, please. I didn’t…”
She reached for something, then got up to her knees
and swung with all her might.
Gabriel saw the bat too late. It connected with his side before he could brace himself and sent him sprawling.
The sharp, burning pain shocked him. He couldn’t breathe. Every time he tried, he felt the tip of something burying deeper. “What the hell was that?” he yelled. Or tried to. He could barely get enough breath to manage a groan.
“You … almost killed me!” she wheezed, obviously trying to yell, too. In the absence of her voice, she reached for the lamp beside the couch and turned it on manually.
Gabriel glared at her. “Unintentionally,” he growled.
Her face was screwed up in a pained grimace, and she was holding her neck. He couldn’t see how much damage he’d done. “Yeah, well”—a harsh cough racked her frame—“me too.”
Holding his ribs, Gabriel glared at her.
“Okay, not really,” she amended. “I may have meant to hit you with a baseball bat.”
“You feel better now?”
The sarcasm must not have come across very well. “Yeah, I do,” she replied, seeming surprised.
“Good,” he retorted. “Because I think you broke something.” Gabriel had broken limbs before. Usually because of some sort of heavy animal. He’d thought he was used to the pain, but those times had been bee stings compared to this. Every movement he made, even to take a careful breath, sent agony shooting through his torso and he didn’t need a medical degree to guess he was seconds away from puncturing a lung. Clearly, heavy animals had nothing on little Dr. Chase and her bat. Gabriel struggled to sit up. Made it to the couch and decided that was far enough.
Amelia cleared her throat and winced in pain. When she pulled her hand away, he could finally see how raw and red her neck looked. “Are you okay?” he asked gruffly. Logic said if she could whale on him with that bat hard enough to break a rib, she’d be fine.
“I’ll live,” she rasped. Then, grudgingly, “You?”
Gabriel made a face. “Think so. Could probably use a doctor, though.”
The sigh she breathed was a clear sound of resignation. “Come on,” she said, taking a hold of his arm on the uninjured side. “Let’s get you to the lab.”
Blood Debts (The Blood Book 3) Page 8
