For the first time since Brandt had known the corporal, Lopez didn’t have a snappy response. And Brandt was in no mood to wait for one.
He had someone to see.
Rebecca finished recalibrating the micropipette. After being dropped off at her apartment, she’d snuck out the back and headed to her laboratory, only a block away. This might be the last time she ever got a chance to test out her “smart” gene theory. She might have lost Brandt, but she wasn’t going to lose her research as well.
The lab had a thick layer of dust from the blast that took out the stairwell wall, but otherwise the room had survived the assault well. And luckily she had a backup to her microblade. But only one. She doubted after this last debacle that she would get more funding any time soon.
Settling herself, Rebecca sat down on the stool and rolled it forward to the microscope. She only had to extract a few nanograms of any DNA left in James’s bone. After everything she’d been through she didn’t think a nanogram was much to ask.
The bone was still perfectly aligned in the grips from her earlier attempt. Rebecca could see that pocket of what looked like preserved marrow. Carefully she raised the microknife, taking care that the low flow suction was working perfectly before she committed to making the cut.
Closing her eyes, she counted to three, then opened them again, her hand on the controls. Just as she pushed the lever, the lab door burst open. She didn’t need to hear the expensive tip break off, she felt it shatter.
With a fury borne of so much more than her experiment ruined, Rebecca turned to the door. “What the hell do you—”
Her words died in her throat as she realized it was Brandt. And he was smiling. That made absolutely no sense.
“The baby,” he beamed. “It’s not mine.”
“What?” she stammered. “That doesn’t make any...What?”
He stepped closer. “Let’s just say I don’t think I was the only soldier Maria was comforting that mission.”
Rebecca still didn’t understand. Maria had sworn the child was Brandt’s. She’d sworn it to Brandt. To her parents. To her priest.
“No,” Rebecca said, taking a step back. She couldn’t go there. She couldn’t get hopeful and then have her world crash down again.
“Yes,” Brandt said. “You know that birthmark of Lopez’s?” Off her nod, Brandt continued. “The baby takes after Papa.”
The child was Lopez’s? Not Brandt’s? That couldn’t be true, could it?
“We’ve got to wait for DNA tests, but then I should be able to get an annulment quickly once they are in.”
“Annulment?” Rebecca repeated, feeling about half a mile behind the conversation. “No, you mean divorce.” Which meant there would be no divorce. Brandt was just that Catholic.
Brandt closed the distance between them. “No, I mean an annulment.”
“But by church law if you’ve consummated the marriage then—”
He took her hand. “Consummated? I haven’t even given her a peck on the cheek.”
Rebecca’s mind spun. They had been married for months. Brandt couldn’t mean...
“Maria and I haven’t had sex, Rebecca. Plus she lied about the baby. I’m getting an annulment.”
A sob she didn’t even know she was holding in broke free. Her hands flew to her mouth. She wanted to say so much but couldn’t come out with a single word.
“I’m in love with you, Rebecca,” Brandt said. “How could I be with anyone else?”
Not even his wife. She blinked several times, making sure this wasn’t a dream that would evaporate as soon as she woke up.
Brandt leaned past her to the shelf above her workspace and grabbed the engagement ring that had been sitting there so forlorn for so long.
“I think we need to put this back where it belongs.”
With only a slight wince he got down on one knee. “Rebecca, will you marry me?”
“Each time you ask me,” Rebecca choked out.
Brandt slid the gold, sparkling ring onto her finger. It felt even more delicious the second time. He went to rise, but struggled. Rebecca dropped to her knees, laughing, crying, still trying to believe he was truly hers again.
Then their lips met, and fire, as white and hot as magnesium, shot through her body. Oh yeah, he was hers.
Their kiss stopped abruptly as Brandt took in a ragged breath. “As much as I’d love to see where this is going...I think I might really need a hospital.”
Rebecca helped him up as blood stained his shirt. “And maybe some surgery, honey.”
“Yeah,” Brandt said, leaning into her, really leaning into her, nothing being held back this time. “Maybe that too.”
And Rebecca would be there, happily right by his side, never to be separated again. You know why? Because she was done with religious controversies. Done with historical mysteries. Really done.
To prove it to herself, as they as walked out, Rebecca hit the toggle on the microtome, grinding the tip into the sample, destroying James’s bone once and for all.
Good-bye, gunfights and magnesium fires.
Hello, wedding planning.
Aunush roused, feeling the cool marble floor beneath her back. And the myrrh and frankincense? It smelled like faith incarnate. The sniper had somehow saved her and brought her home. She felt mildly guilty for deciding to sacrifice him, but it was hard to feel much of anything except relief.
Then she moved her arm to find a sticky pool beside her. A pool of blood. Her own blood. They had not even dressed her wounds. Her sniper had not saved her. He had condemned her.
Cracking her eyes open, Aunush realized she was surrounded by a circle of Disciples. Their long robes brushed the floor. Only the tip of their boots stuck out from beneath the fabric.
As she raised her eyes she found each of the women’s hoods back, revealing their faces. Aunush held back a sob. Had this been a disciplinary quorum, they would have had their features hidden far back within the folds of their robes.
No, this was an execution quorum. Aunush would have the chance to look into each of the women’s eyes before they condemned her to death. No great solace there.
“Aunush de Verante, you have committed the greatest sin against God,” the master’s voice resonated through the chamber. Her deep tenor filling the great hall. “You thought to know His mind better than He.”
The master knelt next to Aunush so that she might whisper harshly in her ear, “You thought yourself ‘She Who Sought and Found.’”
Aunush had no retort. No excuse. No rebuttal. Deep within every bone she had thought herself the one foretold. The one who would shepherd the Disciples’ Messiah into this world. Apparently her bones had been wrong.
“How do we know Aunush is not God’s agent in this?” High Disciple Havva asked.
The master raised her gaze to her fellow Disciple. “Because we know who the true shepherd is,” she said, then turned back to Aunush. “Her name is Dr. Rebecca Monroe.”
“No, no, no, no, no,” Aunush repeated, trying desperately to make the words true. That heretical whore could not be the Disciples’ John the Baptist. She just couldn’t be.
“Yes,” the master answered, smoothing back Aunush’s hair. “At least you will die knowing that all your efforts weren’t for naught. The Messiah will arise before the earth circles the sun.”
Aunush pulled tighter into a ball as the master presented her boot. The sight sickened Aunush. She’d only indulged the master’s fetish to further her position with the sect. Now that there could be nothing gained, why should she give the master such pleasure?
Spitting on the leather, Aunush took solace in only one thought as the master kicked her square in the teeth, shattering incisors.
Dr. Rebecca Monroe’s life would be far more pained than Aunush’s death.
Photo by Ben Hopkin, 2011
Carolyn McCray’s love affair with storytelling began in childhood, when she’d draw together all her neighborhood friends to act out and record Nanc
y Drew mysteries on tape. Since then, McCray has gone on to establish her own reputation for sizzling paranormal romance, controversial historical thrillers, and gut-wrenching mysteries. Now a best-selling author, McCray continues to craft powerful stories such as WidowMaker, 30 Pieces of Silver, and Encrypted. She’s proud of her ability to identify celebrities by their elbows alone, and nurtures a lifelong love for animals. She lives in Auburn, Washington.
Betrayed 02 - Havoc Page 37
