Lethal Engagement

by Teyla Branton

  Erin hung up and put the Jeep into gear. “Ritter says they have the streets around the shop blocked. Apparently we weren’t subtle enough getting out of there. Either that, or they’re worried about more Hunters. But we should be clear here. We’re parked far enough away.”

  We drove without incident to a warehouse several blocks from the Fortress. This was our back door. The man who had originally built the mansion had been a public works manager when San Diego was in its infancy, and his business expertise was only equaled by his paranoia. He’d built tunnels under the wide expanse of lawn, reinforcing them with concrete against high water levels, and connected them to both the sewers and his newly built mansion—intersections he’d conveniently left out of the official plans. The tunnels also connected to this warehouse, and it was especially useful in masking the odd hours we sometimes kept.

  We’d reinforced the original tunnel setup with metal doors, handprint readers, security cameras, and explosive charges that could be activated in an emergency. The front entrance of the house was even more heavily guarded with remote machine guns in the trees and inside several decorative statues, more weapons on the roof, and explosives in the yard. We also had a newly created electronic security field that prevented sensing Unbounded from seeing inside and shifters like myself from passing through. I felt safe there, the way I’d once felt with Trevor.

  I wanted to be there now, not traversing the secret tunnels, but I wouldn’t be able to get past the shields, so I stayed until we entered the basement. Then I shifted, leaving Erin and Jace to debate the benefits and drawbacks of an Unbounded religion. They’d know immediately that I’d gone, but everyone accepted my impatience for traveling in the conventional way.

  There was really nothing left for me to do before the flight but to change out of Stella’s dress, check the material for blood stains before returning it, and gather the few things I’d need from my room, namely my collection of knives and sheaths. They’d probably make me take a gun or two as well, much as I hated the things, and I wondered how we planned to get any of it past Secret Service, who had shadowed Patrick Mann since his return from Europe.

  Instead of in my room, I appeared once again outside Cort’s office. Okay, so that was not what I’d been planning. Or maybe I had. Apparently, I needed to discuss what I’d overheard earlier, as much as I wished I could forget it. There were no voices inside now, and I tapped at the door.

  Until Cort called, “Come in,” I hadn’t realized that I’d been hoping he was away so I could search his office for clues. Blowing out a frustrated sigh, I pushed into the room.

  “Hey, the red hair looks great. All done shopping?” Cort eyed the plastic-covered outfit I carried on its hanger. He gave no indication that he’d heard of the excitement at the ice cream shop, and I wasn’t about to enlighten him.

  I tossed the rest of my ice cream into an industrial-sized trash can near where he had several experiments set up on a wide counter. “Look, about Keene,” I said. “Is it just me, or does he seem different these days?” Since Venezuela, I meant.

  Cort regarded me calmly for a few long seconds before he responded. “Do you have something specific you’re referring to?” None of the emotion I’d heard earlier when he was arguing with his brother came through in his voice or expression, but after living five hundred years, maybe you learned a little about poker faces.

  “Not really.” I certainly wasn’t going to tell Cort about being squeezed into that closet with Keene. Before that day in Venezuela I’d been thinking about Cort as a possible future partner, but that was when I’d realized it must be the old me who found Cort attractive because he’d never made my blood rush in my veins like it had that day in the closet with Keene. Which was just as well, because I’d begun to suspect that Cort found me a little flighty.

  “Hey, since you’re here,” Cort said into the silence, “I’ve been thinking that maybe we should test your ability in the vacuum of space.” He thumbed toward the ceiling. “Maybe up there you could move more than just yourself.”

  Leave it to the logical Cort to narrow in on the flaw to my talent on the day before my big op. “Yeah, I guess. Let me know when you send off the next space mission.”

  Cort didn’t catch the sarcasm. “Sure.”

  For all I knew, he had the connections to arrange it. “Excuse me. I have to finish packing.”

  “Wait.” Cort’s hand shot to my arm. “Look, Mari, something is going on with Keene. Just keep an eye on him. Sorry, that’s all I can say.”

  The information was woefully inadequate, and we both knew it. I wondered if Keene had been using the drugs Cort and Dimitri had experimented with in an attempt to activate the Unbounded gene in descendants who hadn’t Changed. Could something have gone wrong? Cort was clearly not going to answer me, so I wouldn’t ask.

  “Right.” Still holding Cort’s gaze, I shifted.

  My room appeared around me, and I started gathering my belongings. This morning I’d purchased just about everything I’d possibly need, but I was definitely taking my feather pillow. I’d had that thing since fifth grade, and I didn’t sleep as well without it. The end of several feathers poked out of the material, which told me it was time for a new cover.

  I was all ready to leave when a soft tap came on my door. “Come in,” I called from the couch. My TV was on, though the sound was off, and the wannabe mothers stalking Patrick Mann filled the screen. I dropped my left hand where I’d been gnawing at the soft flesh of my middle finger between the beginning of the palm and my middle knuckle.

  I expected Erin or Stella, but instead it was Keene, an easy smile filling his lean face. His brown hair had been cut and dyed a realistic auburn, and they’d done wonders with makeup because the scruff of slightly darker auburn beard looked longer than it had earlier. Unlike Unbounded who often shaved two or three times a day, he wouldn’t have been able to grow it that fast, unless Cort had provided him with some advanced hair serum I didn’t know about.

  “Wow,” I said, coming to my feet. “I almost don’t recognize you.” They’d also done something with the scar that had run vertically on the side of his face near his hairline, because for once the hair wasn’t covering it, but the scar was nowhere to be seen.

  “I could say the same thing about you.” Keene whistled. “You look great! I mean, you always look great, but red really makes you look different.”

  “They even did my eyebrows. The green contacts will be waiting for us in DC, though.”

  “That’ll be interesting.”

  For the first time, I noticed the dinner plate in his hands, covered by a silver food dome. “Come have a seat,” I said, going to my sofa. “What’s up anyway?” The words Cort had said about Keene being different came rushing back. Maybe Keene was here to confess whatever he’d been talking about with Cort. Maybe I was the “her” they’d referenced.

  He sat next to me, setting the dinner plate on my lap. His hands brushed my thighs, seeming to burn through the material of my jeans. My eyes snapped to his, locking into place. The green enveloped me and sent more parts of my body into flames.

  Exactly the same thing had happened in that dark closet in Venezuela.

  I swallowed hard, pushing my thoughts back. Away. Anywhere. I hadn’t felt this aroused since first meeting Trevor, who had betrayed me in the most horrible way. Now it was Keene who had secrets.

  Tell me, I thought.

  He swallowed hard. “Hey, sis—I’d better get used to calling you that, I guess—I brought you something.”

  So, no confession. Maybe there was nothing to confess.

  There had to be. Life or death, Cort had said. He might be distracted with his experiments, but Cort had never been prone to exaggeration.

  Keene held my eyes. My heart thundered in my ears. The whirling emotion made my fingers itch to touch him, to have his arms around me like in Venezuela. Not going to happen, I thought.

  “Well?” he asked, his voice taking on a touch of uncustom
ary nervousness. “Aren’t you going to see what’s inside?” He looked pleased with himself and unsure at the same time.

  I tore my eyes from his and stared down at the dome. Whatever was inside wasn’t horribly heavy but definitely solid enough to put pressure on my legs. Securing the plate with one hand, I used the other to grasp the knob on the dome, lifting it.

  Inside was not one piece but an entire small cake. Chocolate frosting layered the sides, but on the top, the frosting was waved in the shape of bacon, red and white frosting marbled in with the chocolate.

  “Your cake with bacon, Madame,” he said with a little dip of his head. His eyes were now dancing.

  I swiped a taste of the frosting. Sure enough, my nose hadn’t fooled me—the flavoring was bacon, and not an extract but probably from the fat of real bacon.

  My anger at him fled as I laughed and hugged him awkwardly around the cake. “How did you manage this?”

  “I’ll never tell.” With a flourish, he produced two forks.

  I took a bite of cake as he looked at me, his brows drawn. “Well?”

  “It’s delicious.” I took another large forkful and some of it didn’t quite make it into my mouth. Keene reached over and wiped his finger over my bottom lip, rescuing a mound of frosting.

  He put it into his mouth. “Mmm. It is good.”

  I tried to agree, but my voice stuck in my throat. I couldn’t take my eyes off him, and his didn’t leave mine. What did Cort mean by a matter of life or death? I should just ask Keene, but whatever had stolen my voice wouldn’t let me.

  “To our upcoming op,” Keene said, lifting another forkful of cake. “I think it’s going to be fun, even though we’re going to babysit a spoiled rich boy.” His voice was confident, and his smile wide, but there was something in his eyes I couldn’t read. Longing? Fear? Or maybe just that stupid secret.

  “What, you mean rich boys like you?” I taunted.

  His smile vanished. “I guess you could say I had everything but the right genes.” A hint of mockery filled his voice, not directed toward me but at himself. I knew how much it had hurt him all those years to have not Changed, to realize that even in the Emporium where his father had so much power, he was a second-class citizen. That wasn’t why he’d deserted them, of course, but doing so hadn’t healed the raw hurt of being rejected by your own blood. I wondered if he ever regretted defecting to the Renegades to work with his brother. I knew they both had mixed feelings about their father.

  I scooped up a piece of cake and put it in his mouth. He did the same for me. Every nerve in my body stood at attention. His eyes drank me in every bit as much as if he were touching me. At that moment I wanted nothing more, secret or no secret.

  “Mari,” he said, his voice hoarse.

  “What?” My voice was as rough as his.

  “You have chocolate on your shirt.”

  “Thanks.” Standing, I went to the closet for a new T-shirt, glancing back at Keene, whose eyes followed my every step. I changed in my closet and returned. He was standing now, staring at the TV screen.

  “Jace says you guys learned about a new Unbounded religion today.” His fist clenched and unclenched at his side.

  “Looks like it.”

  He sighed, his eyes finally meeting mine. “Does it bother you working with a mortal?”

  “No.” It was only a partial lie. It bothered me that he might die because I wasn’t good enough, and it bothered me that I was worried about trusting him—except trust didn’t really have anything to do with him being a mortal.

  He crossed the steps between us, energy spilling from every stride. His hands went to my upper arms, slightly chafing my triceps. “Mari, I . . .”

  I waited, but he shook his head once as though flinging away a thought.

  Maybe Keene was still hung up on Erin, despite her recent marriage. I knew they’d been close before she and Ritter had become serious. Or it was entirely possible Keene had met someone new. Maybe this new woman was the one he’d been talking about with Cort. Could she be a danger to our Renegades?

  His hands dropped, leaving me cold. “I’d better get downstairs,” he said. “I promised to help Ritter with the extra weapons we’re bringing along. We may need them during the op, and it’s almost time to leave.”

  “Eleven minutes.” I left off the twenty-four seconds because no one appreciated a show-off. But Ritter would already have the equipment ready by now, and we both knew it was an excuse.

  He smiled. “Remind me never to pick you up late.”

  I returned his smile and watched him go without asking the question burning on my tongue. Whatever Keene was hiding, I was going to find out. I’d protect Patrick Mann, even if it turned out I was protecting him from Keene.

  STELLA DROVE US TO THE plane in our armored van, still wearing her neural headset. At the airport before I could get out of the van, her hand fell on my shoulder where I sat in the passenger seat. “Hey, can I talk to you for a minute?”

  The others were already grabbing their gear and heading for the hangar. Keene glanced back at me and then at the empty tarmac around us, as if double-checking for Emporium spies or other dangers. At the hangar door, Jace said something to Keene and remained there, waiting for me.

  “Look,” Stella began, “I know this op may take more than a month or two. There’s no telling when I’ll see you again.”

  “I’ll call every day.” Looking at her now reminded me of the woman I’d known as a child, who pretended to be my mother’s friend but was in actuality a relative. It was because of her that my mother had received Unbounded sperm when she’d decided to go to a sperm bank to have a child. I was grateful beyond words, but after my Change, the shock of seeing her again, as young as ever, had been no small thing.

  Stella laughed. “You guys still treat me with kid gloves. I’m okay, you know.”

  “I know.” But I didn’t really. She’d been devastated at losing her unborn baby to an Emporium raid, and days later her mortal husband to a rare immune disease. Occasionally, I’d felt smothered by her interest, but she was my ancestor, and I wanted to help her through it.

  “I’m pregnant,” she said.

  I blinked. “What?”

  “I decided it was time.”

  “So your husband left frozen—”

  “The baby is Chris’s.”

  “Erin and Jace’s brother? That Chris?” Since Chris was flying us to DC, that might explain why she was so eager to drive me to the airport.

  “Yes. With sperm manipulation, we have a forty percent chance of our child carrying the active Unbounded gene. That’s better than I had with Bronson. And my baby will need a good dad, regardless.”

  “Oh, Stella, I’m so happy for you!” I reached over and hugged her.

  Before my Change, I’d been trying to talk Trevor into having a child, and the desire for a baby hadn’t completely vanished after my Change. Now there would be a baby sooner than expected. Not mine, but almost as good. Like Chris’s children, this new baby would belong, in part, to all of us.

  “Does Erin know?” I asked. “What about everyone else?”

  “Erin and Ava, of course.” Stella laughed. “Can’t hide a life force from them, and Dimitri helped in the lab. Ritter knows because of that last op in Morocco.” She paused before adding, “I’m almost three months along. I just wanted you to know before I started looking like a whale.”

  I gave a snort. “Yeah, right.”

  “I’m glad you’re happy for me. I was worried about telling you.”

  I frowned. “Because of Trevor.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Don’t worry about that. I wouldn’t change what I have now for a dozen lifetimes with that jerk. It’s just as well he didn’t want children.”

  She laughed again. “That’s the spirit. Come on. I’ll go in with you. I want to say goodbye to Chris.”

  Something in the way she said his name called my attention. When she’d talked about the baby, it seemed m
ore of a business agreement with Chris, but if I added in the tone of her voice just now and the time she’d been spending with him and his kids, maybe there was more to it. Before my mind could come up with the question I wanted to ask, she was already out of the car. I hurried after her, and Jace opened the door as we approached.

  Inside the hangar, Keene and Cort were loading gear, while Chris had a panel of the plane open and was doing something with a screwdriver. When he saw us, he pocketed the tool, ran a hand through his dark blond hair, and came toward Stella, his eyes riveted on her face. How had I not noticed this?

  I was fiercely glad Stella wasn’t curling into a ball and giving up after losing her husband. She was going on, and by the smile on her face, I’d say that Chris was halfway to winning her, lab baby or no.

  As the others loaded the plane, I remembered something I’d forgotten, so I made a quick stop in the hangar restroom. Shifting the moment I stepped inside, I chose numbers that would move me instantly to a place miles away. There, I appeared in my usual place near a display and the end of an aisle that hid me on three sides. If anyone was near, I could usually shift again before they could look my way. This time, I was behind a man who was intent on reading the details on a box. The soft pop alerted his attention, but I stepped forward to make it seem I had just rounded the aisle.

  His head swivelled toward me, surprise registering on his round face. “Oh, I didn’t see you. Am I in your way? You need one of these blenders? I hear they’re good.”

  I shook my head. “No thank you. I’m looking for socks.”

  “Better hurry. In case you didn’t hear, they already announced that they’ll be closing soon.”

  “Thanks.”

  I was back in the hangar before anyone noticed I was gone. I handed the package of black socks to Jace.

  “Wow, thanks! I thought I was going to have to borrow Cort’s.”

  “They’d never go with your jeans.”

  “I know, right?” He grinned. “Is this where you were just now? Man, your ability is a thief’s dream.”