Quinn had once been lured in by their promises of unlimited funding for experimentation and research, but she’d learned the true cost of such choices after she’d denied the Nephilim full access to Project Replenish. She had no idea what they planned to use her immortality gene for, only that it was guaranteed not to be good for humanity.
One colleague, in particular, held her attention The dark-haired man specialized in blood studies to cure many common ailments—hypertension, diabetes, even cancer. What he was really searching for, she knew, was what the world had termed the God Particle. The beginning of all things. She found his discoveries dubious at best, but when Victor Drake asked her out one night for coffee after work, she’d been lonely enough to accept.
Big mistake. He’d done nothing but paw her and had turned out to be nothing but a player. Not the sort of man she wanted in her life.
“Know him?” Wyck asked close to her ear, the sound of his voice reassuring.
Quinn nodded, looking over her shoulder at him. His stern expression slowly changed to concern and he took her hand, lacing his fingers with hers in a show of solidarity. The gesture was so comforting Quinn nearly lost track of their surroundings.
Reality soon returned, however. Power surged through her from the heated mark on her ribcage, escalating until it pounded against her temples. She placed her free hand on the hilt of her knife and turned to face the approaching scientist. She doubted this exchange wouldn’t end up in a fight like the one they’d had in the park the other night, but it was nice to know they were prepared nonetheless.
“New boy toy?” Victor said, his smile at odds with his cruel tone.
“Quinn’s my partner.” Wyck placed his arm around her, his hand resting near her hip.
“Jealous?” She flashed Victor a sticky sweet smile.
The scientist glared at Wyck. Dark crimson dotted his cheeks, highlighted by the red spotlights over the bar. His his sallow skin looked nearly green when the lights switched to blue. Hard to believe she’d once thought this guy was hot. Compared to Wyck, Victor was all sharp edges and jagged lines.
“What are you doing here anyway, Quinn? I thought you were too frigid for a place like this.” Victor smirked, knowing he’d pushed her buttons. She had few friends and even fewer dates. Socializing had always taken a backseat to her work. Nothing mattered to her except ending world hunger. She’d felt driven since childhood to cure famine once and for all.
Quinn blinked, remembering what Wyck had said about the third Seal of the Apocalypse—famine and pestilence. If it was true, and she did harbor this ancient thing inside her, then it would certainly explain her compulsion to feed the world. Her fingers flexed around the hilt of her blade. No one would stop her work—not the Nephilim and certainly not Victor.
“We’ve come for information.” Wyck’s deep voice cut through the fog in Quinn’s head and sent a shiver down her spine. He placed his hands on her shoulders, soothing and steadfast.
Under all Victor’s bluff and bluster, the guy was a coward. That’s why he liked to pick on people he perceived as weaker than himself. Quinn could gut him like a fish in under thirty seconds. Definitely no threat there.
“And here I thought you’d come sniffing around me again. Once you go blood, baby, you never go back.” Victor licked his thin lips and Quinn nearly gagged. “I’m surprised Sam let you in here. You’re like his exalted ice queen or something.”
She hated that everyone thought she was so cold and untouchable. There was nothing wrong with being dedicated to your profession. Besides, it was no one’s business who she slept with or didn’t. Power flared white-hot through her and sudden fury blasted through her reserve. Quick as a wink, she drew her knife and had the tip pressed against Victor’s throat.
“We’re here to see Sam. No more problems from you, Victor.” She nicked his skin and small dot of crimson appeared. His dark eyes widened with shock and fear. “And no more rude comments about me, got it?”
“You don’t scare me,” Victor said, though his voice trembled.
“No. Then maybe this will. If you don’t quit spreading nasty rumors about me at the lab, I will make you wish you were never born. Understand?” She pressed the blade a bit harder beneath his chin. “My life and work are none of your concern.”
She lowered her hand and stepped away. A thin line of blood trickled down Victor’s throat. She’d wanted to curse him, infect him with some virulent disease, watch him waste away from hunger and starvation. Instead, she’d nicked his neck and decimated his pride. Not quite as satisfying, but hopefully as effective.
“Quinn... I never thought you’d resort to violence.” He touched his throat then stared at the blood on his fingertips, thoughtful and distant. Finally, Victor met her gaze again, his expression hard as granite. “You think this story will have a happy ending? It won’t. Get real, Quinn. The only way to survive what’s about to happen is to cooperate with Sam and the new owners of the lab. The sooner you face up to that the better.”
Victor walked away, cursing and mumbling to himself under his breath.
Quinn stepped away from Wyck and scanned the club again for Sam, her heart still slammed against her chest from the encounter with Victor. The bastard had provoked her on purpose then fled like a coward. She sheathed her knife once more, doing her best to quell the thrumming power inside her, demanding to be sated.
What made matters worse was that Victor was right. It would have been easier for her to give in the Nephilim, but she couldn’t let her research fall into such evil hands, even if there was no other way out of the impending disaster.
“You slept with him?” Wyck said, his tone was rough and dark.
“What?” She hazarded a glance up at him. His green-gold eyes looked icy, no trace of warmth in them now. She didn’t know him well enough to judge what he might do, but if the look in his eyes was any indication, Victor and his buddies at the bar better start running.
“No. We went out once, on a date. He wanted more. I refused.” She placed her hand on his chest, over his heart. “There’s nothing between us now.”
“Quinn? What the hell is this all about?” Sam’s sharp tone made her jump.
He still wore his dark suit and wire-rimmed glasses from the lab. Sam watched her closely, as if probing her mind with his shrewd blue eyes.
“I need to talk to you about the lab’s new owners.” Quinn lowered her voice, in case anyone was listening in.
“Who’s he?” Sam’s attention shifted to Wyck, lingered, his expression growing harsher by the second.
“He’s my friend.” Quinn frowned. She’d always seen Sam as a kindly, grandfatherly-type mentor, but ever since the half-breeds had taken over the lab, he’d changed. There was an evil edge of corruption to him now, ugly and grotesque.
“What exactly do you need to discuss?” A server brought Sam a glass of red wine, the deep, blood-red color unsettling after her recent encounter with Victor. “You know it’s best not to dig too deeply into their affairs.” He gave Wyck a long, assessing look. “I hope I don’t need to remind you of the importance of discretion at this stage of your research.”
Quinn forced a smile. No. Sam, of all people, didn’t have to remind her about the consequences of sharing her secrets with the wrong man.
But Wyck was different.
At least she hoped he was.
The last man Quinn had trusted enough to share her work with had turned out to be a spy for a rival lab. He’d copied her research on crop regeneration and shared it with their biggest competitor. It had taken her years and a lot of heartbreak to recover from that lesson and was another reason why she felt safer alone. At least until Wyck had appeared.
“Please, Sam. It’s important.” Quinn didn’t like being in the club. It made her feel too exposed and vulnerable, but she needed answers and Sam was her best bet at getting them. These days he spent less and less time at the lab and more and more time at Paradise Lost. He’d called it his home away from hom
e, after his wife had died the year prior. Quinn was coming to believe this place was a fast-track straight to perdition.
Wyck still stood guard at her back, distrust pulsing off him in waves. Once they were alone, they needed to have a serious conversation about why he was acting so strangely tonight.
Sam sipped his wine, as people jostled around them, trying to get closer to the bar. Wyck shielded Quinn from the worst knocks. She took a deep breath and forced the raging power within her to calm. She needed a level head and going nuclear in her boss’s club wouldn’t help matters at all.
“Why this sudden interest in the lab’s owners?” Sam asked, smiling innocently. “Have they done something to make you unhappy?”
“You mean like trying to kill her? Twice?” Wyck’s deep voice carried over the throbbing bass of the music.
Sam scowled, his expression a mix of disgust and resignation. “I’m not sure what happened to you, Quinn, but I’m sure it had nothing to do with Tolbert International. Perhaps it was a random mugging. Atlanta’s become much more dangerous recently.”
“You can say that again,” Wyck said, with a heavy dose of snark. Quinn hid her smile. If felt good to have someone on her side for a change. “Do you have any idea of the heinous acts those bastards have carried out against humanity?”
“Evil is in the eye of the beholder. Over the centuries many scientists have been persecuted for their beliefs.” Sam’s stoic façade was firmly back in place. It was a look Quinn knew well. “Tolbert International is passionate about your research Quinn. They want to make sure that the data is kept safe, that’s all. Perhaps they sent extra security to guard you when you’re out and about. If you felt threatened by their actions, then my apologies.”
“Security? Why didn’t anyone tell me?” Quinn felt the tension building inside her again. “I can tell you for a fact the bastard who attacked me two nights ago in the plaza wasn’t interested in my security.” She waved her hand over the repaired sleeve of her lab coat. “Does this look like protection to you? Not to mention the hellish creature they sent last night. You know what these people are, Sam, and they’re not human. They’re Nephilim. Half-angel, half human. Fully untrustworthy.”
“Nonsense,” Sam muttered. “They only have your best intentions at heart.”
“Best intentions?” Wyck growled.
Sam glanced at the dance floor then looked back at Quinn, moving closer as if afraid of being overheard. That was new. In the decade she’d known Samual Una, Quinn had never once seen the man fearful of anything. In fact, no one bothered his club for the simple reason everyone knew Sam had the connections and clout to handle anything Atlanta threw at him, evil or good.
“Tolbert International stated publicly they bought our lab to continue our cutting-edge research and experimentation, but that’s not the real purpose. It’s only a front to get at what they really wanted. Your Project Replenish.”
Even though Quinn had suspected their motives, hearing Sam confirm it made her stomach sink.
“What do they want it for?”
“Don’t know yet. I’m still trying to work that out. I fear they think it has human applications.”
“That explains the body count.” Wyck said. “This is bad, Quinn. Very bad.”
“You don’t think I know that?” she hissed. Her research was meant for agriculture. She’d never, ever intended for the serum to be used on humans. The special chromosomes would rip apart human DNA and cause severe side effects. At best, it would kill a person immediately. At worst, it would turn them into something monstrous—a mindless zombie, a slave.
The thought of hundreds of people dead because of her made her ill. Bile rose hot in her throat and she swallowed hard to keep from vomiting. “Do you know where they’re conducting these experiments?”
“They’re slipping the serum into drinks without their consent.” Sam held up a hand and backed up a step. “Not here. I have all the liquor tested daily. They’ve started their own club in Midtown to lure in all the tourists. I’ll give you the address, but if you’re thinking of going there, be careful. They’ll spot you a mile away and shut it all down. They keep watch.”
Quinn frowned. God, in all her years as a scientist, she never thought one of her inventions would be stolen and used for such horrific purposes. Project Replenish. She’d had such grand, glorious purposes for her discovery and now it could wreak such devastation because it had fallen into the most awful hands imaginable.
“You’re sure about this?” Wyck asked.
Sam nodded. Not a hint of doubt in his eyes.
“Can we get someone inside, Sam?” Quinn asked. “Me, or someone else from the lab, who can check it out for us? Perhaps someone Tolbert won’t suspect.”
Sam nodded. “I’ve been thinking along the same lines myself and I know just the person. Let me talk it over with him then we can send him tonight to lure the responsible parties out so we can deal with them. Hold tight.”
“Wiil it be another club like this?” Wyck met her gaze briefly then looked over her head again.
“No. If it’s in Midtown, it’ll cater to a better crowd.” Quinn looked at several women nearby who were watching them. “We’ll talk about it more on the way.”
“Who will he choose to go in?”
“Not sure,” she said, though she had a pretty good idea, and Wyck wasn’t going to like it. She wasn’t too thrilled herself, but if Victor could finally do some good, then let him. At least their past was out in the open and she had no more secrets to keep from Wyck, save one. She’d tell him that later, when they were alone. “I’m guessing it’ll be Victor. But don’t worry, I can handle him.”
He gave a curt nod, his gaze flickering to somewhere beyond her again.
She turned and realized he was watching the dancers.
Desire beat through her veins in time with the music, making her wish she could dance like that with Wyck. She pictured her fingers wandering across his broad bare chest, teasing his stiff nipples, her fingernails raking over his abdomen and leaving red marks in their wake. She imagined the feel him against her, hot and hard and ready, his hands caressing her hips and breasts. She wanted to do those things, with him, in public. From the way Wyck’s pupils had dilated and his breath hitched, he wanted that too.
He met her gaze and her pulse tripled with anticipation. Wyck traced his fingers along her jaw then down her neck, brushing her throat. She shivered, her eyelids drooping as he ran his thumb along her lower lip. If this was wrong she didn’t care. She needed him.
Let these people think what they wanted.
Because she could only think about him.
7
Wyck looked out over a glittering, nighttime Atlanta, his gaze scanning the rooftops and street below.
Quinn stood beside him, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, holding her lab coat closed. The temperature had dropped, and not just in the city. Things had cooled off between them too. He hadn’t meant for it to happen, but whenever he imagined Quinn dating that obnoxious twit—the same idiot they’d been forced to travel here with—he bristled. It wasn’t Quinn’s fault. He couldn’t blame her for something that had happened before they’d even met.
His foul mood was due to the twit.
Victor had passed the entire taxi journey to Midtown staring at Quinn, making foul allusions to her lack of sexual prowess, and pretending he was better than all of them.
It was enough to make Wyck want to throttle the man. He didn’t even care that taking the guy out would ruin their plans to get into the Nephilim’s club. He would’ve punched the twit moment they were in private anyway, if it hadn’t been for Quinn.
While Victor had been obsessed with her, she’d only had eyes for Wyck, even holding his hand at one point.
She did so again now, bringing him out of his angry memories and back to the present. Her fingers tightened around his and he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and forcing his tense muscles to relax.
“Pl
ease don’t let Victor bother you. Seriously. He’s not worth it.”
He gave her a side glance. She smiled, stunning beneath the starry sky, her auburn hair secured in a neat ponytail, exposing the creamy expanse of her neck.
“Seeing you jealous is kind of nice though,” she teased.
Jealous didn’t begin to describe how he felt.
“Tell me more about the serum,” he said at last. “About your research.”
What he really wanted to ask her about were her feelings toward him, but he didn’t want to push. This was difficult enough for both of them. Impossible even. Yet he still hoped to convince her things could work out between them and that no matter what she thought, he wasn’t going to hurt her.
“Right. Project Replenish.” She sighed then stared into the distance. The chill breeze stirred around them.
“It was meant to be a miracle of modern science. A genetic alteration that made any food crop virtually immortal, resistant to any disease, insect, or vermin.” She tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “Sam and I kept it under wraps for months, wanting to make sure it was foolproof before we made our big announcement. We needed to ensure it was safe and couldn’t be copied for nefarious purposes.” She gave a rueful snort. “Lot of good that did, huh?” Her voice sounded quiet and infinitely sad. Wyck ached with yearning to hold her, comfort her. “
“Anyway,” she continued. “The way the serum works is by triggering a previously dormant genome mutation that leads to increased immunity and life expectancy within the plants cells. The computer models showed it was totally safe and effective in plants. Not so much everywhere else. According to the computer models, if the serum was ever directly administered to humans or livestock, it would have horrid effects. Decay of the cerebral cortex and overdevelopment of the limbic system. As a species we’d return to our most basic state, lose the capacity for language, emotion, any higher functions. We’d become nothing but mindless automatons. Zombies, without the whole flesh-eating side effect.”
Scion's Awakening (Seven Seals Series Book 3) Page 5
