Perfectly Toxic

by Kristine Mason

  As she stroked him, he thought about his hatred for her, for everything the government was doing to innocent men, women and children. He thought of his sister, how her life could be in danger. About how they’d killed his parents.

  She frowned. “You are an interesting one. Since you’re too young for erectile dysfunction, either you don’t like girls, or you have extreme willpower.”

  He refused to answer her, or take part in whatever game she played. When she unzipped his jeans, the heart rate monitor began to ping in rapid successions. “This is rape,” he said, as she drew his penis from between his fly. He wouldn’t deny wanting fellatio from an attractive woman, but he wanted it on his terms. And definitely not by a woman who’d taken part in holding him captive and drugging him.

  “I hadn’t thought about it that way.” She stroked him. “So you don’t want me to give you a blow job?”

  “No.”

  “You really don’t want me to do this?” she asked, and holding his gaze, circled the tip of his thickening penis with her tongue.

  He quickly brought to mind the violent films he’d been forced to watch. Suddenly sickened, his penis grew flaccid again. “No,” he repeated.

  Grinning, she readjusted him, then zipped his jeans. “I am going to break you,” she said, as she raised the bed back into its original place. “Don’t worry.” She ran the back of her hand along his cheek. “It’s going to hurt so good. Nighty-night,” she sang, then turned off the light and left the room.

  Once the door was closed, he let out a deep breath. She will not break you. You’re strong. You can adapt and overcome.

  Could he? He was a pencil pusher. A former accountant who had stumbled on numbers that hadn’t made sense. With Mitch and William at his side, he’d been confident. He’d been scared for his life and his sister’s, but he’d also had faith that justice would prevail. And he needed to hang onto that faith, otherwise millions of innocent people would be poisoned.

  ****

  Careful not to disturb Rodney, Adeline slipped back into bed. Their new subject was quite interesting, as well as very attractive. While she’d always loved Rodney’s dark good looks, she rather liked this fairer subject, his light-brown hair, sexy five o’clock shadow, muscular physique. Or maybe she liked that he’d resisted her. Yes, Rod was always resisting her, so nothing new there. But Rodney was her equal. Same education, same everything, and she would never want him on his knees kissing her feet. One of the things she loved about him was that he challenged her spirit and mind.

  But Rodney didn’t always fulfill her needs. She rolled her head to the side. The moonlight filtered into the room revealing hints of his handsome face. She loved Rod as much as she was capable, loved it more when he satisfied her. Too bad she had to constantly seduce or trick him into her bed. Wouldn’t it be interesting to create a sex slave who would never tell her no? Better yet, a monster who would do whatever she asked? He could help her keep the others she would create under control. If need be, he could help her keep Rodney under control, too.

  She pulled the comforter around her shoulders. This new subject required serious thought. Something was off about him. When she’d found him on the street, he’d acted lost and out of sorts. Paranoid.

  Tomorrow they would assess him, along with the other man they’d picked up near the Atlanta shelter, then give them both a healthy dose of A-Line. Then, later in the afternoon, she and Rod would head to Tallahassee to find out what—if anything—had happened to Noah.

  She snuggled deeper under the comforter and closed her eyes. Noah had better hope she never found him. Her bitch roommate’s wounds would look like paper cuts compared to what she’d do to him.

  Adeline smiled into the darkness. Damn, she couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

  Chapter 10

  Cash and Mel’s House, Tallahassee, Florida

  Sunday, 7:23 a.m. Eastern Daylight Saving Time

  MEL ENDED THE call with Daddy. “That went well,” she said, then curled next to Dolly on the living room area rug. “How you doin’, pretty girl?” As she ran her hand along the dog’s back, sadness settled around her. Dolly turned her head and nuzzled her with her nose. “I’m sorry I wasn’t always here. I’ve missed swimmin’ with you and going for long W-A-L-K-S.” Dolly’s tail went crazy. She lifted her head and licked Mel’s cheek.

  “I swear she can spell,” Cash said, kneeling next to her.

  “Or maybe she saw you walking into the room. You make me want to wag my tail, too.”

  He chuckled, then kissed her. “How’s your dad?”

  She sighed and tried not to let guilt take root. “He thought Charlie was settin’ camp up on the north side of his swamp. Turns out it was a family of ’coons. Which he promptly killed and is in the process of skinning. He’s wantin’ me to cook ’em up for him in the crock pot.” She rubbed her hand along her head as she realized how she must have sounded. “Sorry. When I start talking to Daddy, my twang gets a little…twangy. Can you remind me again why you married me? Good Lord, who talks about imaginary Viet Cong and skinning raccoons on a Sunday morning?”

  Laughing, he cuddled next to her so the three of them were one giant spoon on the living room floor. “Makes for interesting conversation.” He smoothed his palm along Dolly’s coat. When their fingers touched, they joined hands and petted their girl. “I want to talk about your job.”

  “With ATL?”

  “Is that the name of the agency?”

  Since they’d been too busy fighting, then making up, they had never discussed the details of her side job. “Yeah, it stands for Above the Law. Harrison’s a big Steven Segal fan and named it after one of his movies.”

  “I’m more partial to Chuck Norris, but to each his own.”

  “We’re weird.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Viet Cong, skinning ’coons, Above the Law, Chuck Norris…we’re weird.”

  “Maybe I think people who don’t have these types of conversations are weird,” he said.

  She glanced over her shoulder. His teasing, dark-brown eyes held amusement, curiosity and hunger, and she fell in love with him all over again.

  “Why are you smiling?” he asked.

  “Because you’re looking at me the same exact way you did when we met. I fell hard for you that day.”

  He kissed her shoulder. “After all these years and you’re just telling me this?”

  “You were already cocky enough.” She bent and kissed Dolly’s head. “I miss this. Just lazing around, cuddling with our dog.”

  “Waiting for an agent to bring a GPS chip.”

  “Not funny.” She rolled onto her back. Dolly did, too. “This is serious business. The man we work for was one of the first profilers for the FBI. His agents all come from a government agency or have military background. Of the three I met, one was former FBI, the other CIA, the last, Navy SEAL.”

  “SEAL? Does he know your friend Ryan?”

  She nodded. “It’s a long story. But because of Ryan, that’s how we all became acquainted.”

  “Except you don’t have a military background. So how’d you get hired?”

  Oh, boy. Should she tell him about the bodies she disposed of for Ian?

  “I heard Ian thought I looked like Farrah Fawcett.”

  “Red swimsuit picture?” He let out a wistful sigh. “He’s right. And it makes me want to kick the man’s ass.”

  “Would you stop?” Grinning and tightening her hold on his hand, she rolled back to her side, then rubbed their joined hands along Dolly’s belly. Memories of last night, of their heated argument, of the two of them standing naked, vulnerable, exposed, had her closing her eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about ATL. Even though we were apart, I should have. Because now it does affect you.”

  “Tell me honestly, did you join the agency as a way to get even with me?”

  “No. I told you the truth. I wanted to experience a little of your danger, and I like the people. I’m not al
ways sure how Lola feels about me, though. Sometimes I get the impression she thinks I’m a little…out there.”

  He kissed her shoulder again. “If that’s what she thinks, then she should probably go fuck herself.”

  She laughed and rolled back toward him. “You are so bad. Telling or thinking someone should go diddle themselves because you don’t like what they say or think is not going to take you places.”

  “I have my woman, my dog, my garage.” He touched her cheek. “You bless me with a baby, and I don’t think my life could be any more complete.”

  She panicked. “Too fast.”

  “What?”

  “I said that out loud.” Dang. “I want a baby. I wanted the baby we lost.”

  He frowned. “But?”

  She drew their joined hands away from the dog and pressed them against her stomach. “Cash, honey, I love you. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but my family has issues.”

  His eyes danced with amusement as he grinned. “Hell, we all got issues. My mom made up my name after an imaginary millionaire. I don’t know anything about her family, except I might have a relative in Alabama. An aunt, I think. Or maybe you’re worried about my background?”

  “No.” She gripped him and realized just how lucky she’d been to have Daddy, Barney and the Monahans. “Not at all. It’s just, we Scarlets are known to be…eccentric.”

  He cupped her cheek and grinned. “Baby, eccentric is what rich people call their crazy relatives. Just own where you come from, because I love it.”

  “This coming from a man who used to diffuse bombs for a living.”

  “And newly retired from the repo business,” he added with a kiss.

  “Love the sound of that.”

  The doorbell rang. Cash’s smile waned. “Duty calls one last time.”

  She moved to answer, but he stopped her.

  “I’m coming along for this ride,” he said.

  She stiffened. “You worked alone on repo jobs.”

  “Reckless and stupid on my part.”

  “Harrison is the one going undercover. Don’t be offended if Lola doesn’t want you involved.”

  “Make it so I am.”

  She kissed him. “You got it.”

  After he helped her up, Mel headed for the door. When she opened it, Lola stood front and center. “You’re going to love this.” She brushed by her and headed for the patio.

  “Asian Lola woke on wrong side of bed,” Vlad said, and followed Lola.

  Harrison stepped inside. “I don’t know what Ian was thinking,” he said quietly, then turned when a tall woman, with striking, ice-blue eyes and dark hair, cut in a short angled bob, approached the threshold. “Gillian, this is Melanie. She’s with ATL.”

  Gillian assessed her. “They kept calling you Mel, so I assumed you were a man.”

  “I can assure you she’s not,” Cash said as he entered the foyer. “I’m Cash.”

  “My husband,” Mel added.

  “Is this important to the investigation?” Gillian asked.

  Mel shook her head, unsure if the woman was joking, rude or asocial. “Just making introductions.”

  Gillian tugged at her suit coat, which fit loosely yet didn’t hide her well-endowed chest. “I didn’t realize ATL had a husband and wife team.”

  “Cash isn’t with ATL,” Mel said as she and Cash led Gillian to the patio.

  Once everyone had taken a seat, Gillian cleared her throat and looked directly at Cash. “If you’re not ATL or CORE, you’ll need to leave.”

  “He stays,” Lola said. “This is his and Mel’s house.”

  “Should we go somewhere else?”

  “No.”

  Gillian drew in a deep breath and set a small case on the patio table. “I want you to call Ian and confirm this is okay with him.”

  Lola shook her head. “He’s with my mother, picking out flowers for their wedding.”

  She glanced around the table. “Right. Very unconventional.”

  “Have you been with CORE long, honey?” Mel asked, still trying to decide what to make of the woman.

  Gillian glared at her. “The last person who called me honey ended up with his penis severed. They sewed it back on, but I’m not sure why the government wasted tax dollars since he was heading for death row.”

  “Good thing I don’t have a penis.” Mel said, deciding that maybe she didn’t want Cash sitting in on this after all. “But you still didn’t answer the question.”

  “Three months.”

  “Before that?”

  “DEA. Are we done?”

  “Honestly,” Mel began, “I’d like to be finished with you. You’re not a very nice person. If you didn’t have something we needed, I’d tell you to get out of my house.”

  “Agreed,” Lola said as Dolly wheeled onto the patio. “Let’s get to why you’re here so we can part ways as quickly as possible.”

  Gillian watched Dolly, and Mel swore the woman melted. “Your dog?” she asked.

  God, had Gillian heard a word she or Lola had said? “Cash served with her in Iraq. She lost her legs, but saved my husband’s life.”

  “What a brave and noble dog.” A wistful smile softened Gillian’s face. “I had a German shepherd when I was growing up.”

  “How nice.”

  “Not really. My father snapped his neck to punish me and my brother.”

  “Jesus,” Harrison said. “Why would you even tell us that?”

  Gillian glanced around the table. “I’m sorry if I come across rude. I lost my filter when I was a kid and never found it.”

  “Vlad have no filter.”

  “So?”

  “Vlad have also lost many animal.”

  “I don’t know how to respond to that.” She opened the case. “Lola’s right. We’ll need to part ways soon. I have to be in Dallas this afternoon.” She turned to Mel. “Not to be rude, but we need to move along.”

  Mel hid a grin when Cash gave her a light kick from under the table. “Of course,” she responded.

  After pulling out the small device, Gillian looked to Harrison. “We’re going to implant the chip into your armpit, which is an area we’ll assume the perpetrators won’t examine. It’s almost like a shot.” She stood and approached him. “Raise the sleeve of your shirt and your arm.”

  As soon as he did as she’d instructed, Gillian pulled the device’s trigger. Harrison flinched as quickly as she took the device away. “Now to the fun stuff.” Gillian pulled her laptop from her case and instructed Harrison to do the same. “Since I’m flying to Dallas, one of you will have to quickly learn how to follow the GPS program I’m syncing to Harrison’s computer as we speak. The program is simple and just like the GPS you’d use in a car. If you do run into a problem, contact Rachel Davis at the CORE office. She helped develop the program.” She looked to Lola. “Who will be taking the lead on this?”

  “I will,” Lola said.

  Gillian explained how the program worked, that they would be able to follow Harrison’s whereabouts at all times. “Be aware,” she continued, “the chip will also remain active, even if he’s deceased.”

  “Nice,” Harrison said, and rubbed his armpit. “This itches.”

  “According to Ian’s product developer, it’s a minor side effect.” She closed her case. “In other words, suck it up.”

  “Why didn’t you say you were former DEA when we met?” Lola asked.

  “You didn’t ask.”

  Lola released an exasperated sigh. “We’re dealing with a man who was drugged. It’s also possible someone is using the homeless for experimentation purposes.”

  “Anything is possible,” Gillian said. “Trust me. I’m fully aware that there are pharmaceutical companies taking advantage of the homeless. When I was DEA, there was an issue in Philadelphia. Homeless people were being approached, offered money and a consent form. But here’s the problem with that. Some of these people can’t read. Some don’t care to read the consent form, all they se
e is a way out. Money in their pocket. An opportunity to get off the streets.”

  “Since you obviously have experience in this,” Lola began, “would you stop by the hospital and meet with Noah before you leave?”

  “Already done.”

  “When?”

  “Before I came to the hotel. Noah was clearly detoxing and completely incoherent. I wouldn’t be surprised if ninety percent of what he told you was a hallucination. But, what’s bothersome is that there were eyewitnesses who saw Noah, sober and drug free, leaving with an unknown individual.” The agent looked to her watch. “If there’s nothing else, I’ll need to call a taxi, or can one of you take me to the airport?”

  “Vlad can take you,” Lola said, handing the Russian the keys to her rental car.

  Once Gillian gave them a curt good-bye and left, Harrison itched his underarm. “I think she liked putting this thing in me.”

  “She did her job,” Lola said.

  “Whatever. Once ours is done here, I’m cutting it out of me. I don’t like the idea of knowing I can be tracked.”

  The House of Archer, Bower, Georgia

  Sunday, 8:08 a.m. Eastern Daylight Saving Time

  Adeline adjusted the volume of the recording device, while Rodney checked the test subject’s vitals. This subject, Jim, wasn’t like the one in the neighboring room. When she’d approached Jim at the Atlanta shelter, he’d come with her willingly and had been eager to work. Based on his girth, she’d thought he’d be a perfect subject: healthy, able to survive without food, which was good, since the amphetamine tended to suppress the appetite. Except once they’d brought Jim to the house and he had shed his coat, they’d discovered Jim’s extra padding wasn’t fat. The man had layered his body with clothes, a blanket and a small bag filled with his personal items—ID, brush, bar of soap, toothbrush and a picture of an ugly woman. Turned out Jim was a skinny, boney man and, based on his ID, much older than she’d thought.