Heated Conspiracies

by Aiden Bates

  After lunch, we got to work. Derek had Nick’s printer whirring like crazy as it printed out patent after patent—those under Bicroft’s name in particular, and those that had been filed for its various subsidiaries. Harper, Nick, Derek and I each took a pile, keeping Derek’s instructions in mind.

  “We’re looking for something that has a similar chemical structure to ecstasy—Phoriaphedamine. I’ve narrowed these down to patents for synthetic compounds only, but…”

  He placed his own stack of patents down on Nick’s desk. Even separated out like this, each of us had a stack that was thicker than my cock—and that was saying something.

  “Divide and conquer, then.” Harper nodded, stalking out into the living room to begin his search.

  “Thanks, Derek. We’ll let you know if we find anything,” Nick said, giving us both a smile before following Harper out.

  As for me, I settled down into the plush armchair in the corner of Nick’s office while Derek worked from the desk. But despite the fact that Derek and I had just blown off steam that morning, I found myself getting hard on and off throughout my perusal of the patents anyway. Working in the same room as an Omega in heat would do that to an Alpha—especially when said Omega was as good-looking (and good-tasting, for that matter) as Derek Stillwell.

  Feeling my cock rise against my jeans for what must have been the dozenth time, I held my breath and closed my eyes, reciting the military alphabet in my head just to take my mind off of how good Derek would look bent over Nick’s desk. I was a grown man, not some horny teenager. I could control my own damn urges. But my thoughts were an entirely different matter—especially since Derek seemed to glance over his shoulder and smile at me every time I got to tango.

  “Ugh,” Derek said after we’d been at it for a couple hours. “This is infuriating.”

  “Not finding anything either?”

  His shoulders slumped forward as he spun his chair around. “Even if I am, I don’t know that I’d realize it. These papers are all starting to blur together for me. The bureaucracy of the patent office needs to get with the fucking times. If they just had a search index we could pass keywords through…”

  “Maybe we need a little break?” I raised an eyebrow as I caught the look of frustration settling into Derek’s handsome brow. “You keep scowling like that, you and Harper are going to end up with matching sets of wrinkles.”

  Derek sighed, then nodded. “Yeah. I’m going to go grab a glass of water, I think. You want anything?”

  I licked my lips, considering whether a beer would make looking over these patents any more enjoyable—or if it would help take my mind off my recurring boner, for that matter. “If there are any Heinekens in the back of the fridge, I wouldn’t say no to one. Otherwise, water would be fine.”

  As Derek disappeared out to the kitchen, I was finally able to draw in a breath without having to worry about my own rising dick jostling the stack of papers on my lap. But even when he was out of the room, his scent lingered. Green and sweet, like freshly cut grass or the smell of the air just before a heavy rain.

  The difference was, mowing the lawn didn’t usually leave me so stiff I could hardly concentrate. Neither did a good thunderstorm, for that matter.

  Still, making use of my newfound mental clarity, I took the chance to scan through a few more patents. At first, they were just more scientific gibberish to me. More dead ends. But then…

  “Good news,” Derek announced, coming back in with a frosty green bottle and a smile. “Someone was hiding this bad boy behind the grape jelly in the fridge.”

  “I think I’ve got even better news, too.” I accepted the bottle, trading it for the patent on the top of my pile as I returned Derek’s grin. “This what we’re looking for?”

  Derek’s eyes scanned the paper. “Oh, shit. I mean—not exactly, but this is definitely in the right vein. A precursor, maybe?”

  “Does that help us at all?”

  Derek’s grin widened, his eyes lighting up with fiery delight. “Yes, actually. Look here.” He settled down onto the arm of my chair. Close enough to make my cock twitch—not that I needed to be thinking about that again right now. “When a patent is filed, if it references another patent or another patent references it later on, there’s a note in the addendum. So if we check the annotations…”

  I followed Derek’s long, elegant finger as the tip slid over a line on the document. Referenced by Patent No. 501332.

  “So…” I scratched my head. “We find Patent 501332 then?”

  “Exactly. Now that we’ve found one patent in the chain, we can look forward and backward. Like finding the right branch of a maze.” Derek nearly leapt off the arm of the chair, rushing out to the living room first to tell Harper and Nick, then returning to Nick’s computer to print out some fresh patents with a renewed energy.

  A few sips of my beer and a few hours later, we didn’t just have the next patent in the chain. We had fifteen, plus a few more precursors as well. Each of them looked more complicated than the last, but with every new link we found, the feeling that we were actually making real progress grew stronger and stronger, until—

  “I’ve got it!” Nick yelped from the living room, bounding into the office with Harper hot on his trail. “Is this the compound you were looking for, Derek?”

  It only took Derek a few minutes of scanning to be sure, but eventually, he nodded. “Phoriaphedamine. This is exactly what Justin and I found in the labs last night.”

  “So we’ve got Bicroft pinned, then.” I raised my beer in a toast. “I’ll drink to that.”

  “Not Bicroft,” Derek was quick to correct me. “This…actually isn’t Bicroft at all. Or any of their subsidiaries, either. That last batch of patents I printed out were just reference copies from anyone I could find. This compound belongs to…”

  “Ziegler Dynamic Technologies Incorporated?” Harper leaned over Derek’s shoulder and scoffed. “Who the hell are those people?”

  Derek and I shared an uncertain glance.

  Who the hell, indeed. But if we were going to keep traveling down this rabbit hole…

  We’d need to find out. And soon.

  11

  Derek

  “They don’t even have a website,” I groaned, returning to the search terms on Nick’s computer and scanning them over again. Harper and Nick had already retired to the living room again, leaving Kaleb and me to our frustrations. We were five pages back already and all I’d been able to turn up that even seemed related to Zeigler Dynamic were a few articles in some fringe science magazines. “Incredible.”

  “So this is, what? Just a handful of guys in their mom’s basement, doing chemistry?” Kaleb asked, chasing this revelation down with the rest of his beer.

  “Their mom’s garage, from the looks of things.” I pulled up the earliest article I could find, which featured a picture of the four Zeigler Dynamic founders holding up a plaque for a grant they were awarded. The article was dated three years ago—a piece on blood-brain barrier research in synthetic hormone medications.

  “Jesus. You can see the tire iron and motor oil in the background.” Kaleb scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest and shaking his head. “So they’re small-timers, then.”

  “Compared to people like Bicroft…they’re nobody.” I rubbed my eyes and sighed. “Just some experimental chemists with a home brew lab and a suspicious level of access to chemicals. How they got hold of them—or why they would’ve referenced an old Bicroft patent, for that matter…”

  “Says here they’re based in Virginia, though.” Kaleb tapped a line of text from the article on the computer’s screen. “Charlottesville—I know the area. And look here—Norman Ziegler, CEO.”

  I cracked a wry smile. “His mom must live there.”

  “Facebook him for me?” Kaleb asked.

  A quick Facebook search of Norman Ziegler’s name led to an entire treasure trove of information. Ziegler was a thin, lanky guy with oversized eyeglasses and r
osacea-red cheeks, making him look like he was either perpetually blushing or always a little sunburned. His entire page was public, including his phone number and address.

  “Guess someone doesn’t care all that much about online privacy.” Kaleb pulled out his phone and dialed the number before I even had time to wonder what his story was going to be if the guy answered.

  “Ziegler Phone Screen Repair, Norman Ziegler speaking,” a nasally voice came in, loud enough through Kaleb’s phone that I could hear even without speaker phone on.

  “Sorry, I must be confused,” Kaleb said, giving me a wink. “I’m, ah, Chase Connor. Science journalist from…”

  “New Scientist?” I suggested, chuckling at the way Kaleb was using my own fake identity—and my ex’s name.

  “From New Scientist,” Kaleb said into his phone. “I was looking for Norman Zeigler of Zeigler Dynamic Technolo—”

  “Technologies Incorporated? Yes—sorry, no, that’s me. Ah, I mean, CEO Norman Zeigler speaking. Let me put you on speaker, Mr. Connor. I’ve got the rest of my team here in the…office with me.”

  There was an excited shuffling of chairs against concrete as Zeigler gathered his crew. It only intensified Kaleb’s smirk.

  “Ah, glad I got the right phone number then,” Kaleb said. “I’ve heard your company has done some work in, ah…”

  Thinking fast, I handed Kaleb a patent and tapped on a line he could use.

  “Thyroid manipulation via intracellular induction of hormonal…uptake,” Kaleb read. “Which sounds fascinating, could really help build out a story I’m working on right now. I’d love to come by and have a chat with your development team, discuss what Ziegler Dynamic Technologies hopes to accomplish in the scientific landscape.”

  I shot Kaleb a thumbs-up and he rolled his eyes, still grinning. Talking like that, he must have heard Josh conduct similar calls before. It was a good sell—and Ziegler seemed all too eager to take the bait.

  “That’s, ah…Yeah, I mean, of course, we’re all flattered for your interest in our operation, Mr. Connor.” There was a pause as Ziegler’s development team all jumped in to try and add something all at once, followed by a hissed, “Shut up! Shut up!” from Ziegler.

  “So you’d be up for an interview?” Kaleb asked.

  “Yeah, obviously. We weren’t aware that we were on anyone’s radar, but I can assure you, my company is at the cutting edge of some bio-technology advancements that will certainly change the world, starting with—”

  “That sounds like the kind of thing that could make for our December cover story, Mr. Ziegler,” Kaleb cut him off. “Why don’t I swing by tomorrow afternoon? If I can get some good lines for my piece, we might be interested in sending over our media team for a shoot sometime next week.”

  “Seriously? Wow—I mean—shut up, you idiots!” Ziegler cleared his throat. “I mean, I’ll have to see about clearing my schedule, but tomorrow afternoon…could work. If I moved some meetings around, obviously.”

  “Obviously,” Kaleb repeated. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then. Thanks for your time, Mr. Ziegler.”

  Just before Kaleb hung up the phone, we could hear a roar of cheers and a round of high fives. As soon as he pressed the end call button, though, Kaleb cracked and I joined him.

  “They’re idiots,” Kaleb said, wiping a tear of laughter away from his eye as he slipped his phone back into his pocket. “Are you sure that they’re going to be worth talking to?”

  “Absolutely. Which is why we’re headed to Virginia tomorrow.”

  “We?” Kaleb blinked, the smile fading from his face. “You sure that’s wise? Having you out in public any more than we have to.”

  I stood, placing a hand on Kaleb’s shoulder. “Look, it’s cute that you think you can do this on your own, but I can speak these guys’ language—and you can barely hold a conversation with them without dissolving into laughter. Best if I’m there to help you keep a straight face.”

  “We’ll leave tonight, then,” Kaleb said with a sigh. “If we can get most of the drive done in the dark, it’ll lessen the chance that you’re spotted. It’s just…”

  “What?” I slipped my hand off of Kaleb’s shoulder and crossed my arms over my chest. “You don’t think I can handle a little undercover action?”

  “Your capabilities for undercover action are exactly what I’m worried about. You’re still in heat, and…”

  Slowly, a smile curled at the corners of my lips. “Guess we’ll just have to figure out some kind of way to control ourselves.” I moved past him, heading out into the living room to update Harper and Nick. But in the doorway, I paused, turning to give Kaleb a sinful parting glance. “Or not.”

  12

  Kaleb

  We said our goodbyes to Harper and Nick that night, then hit the open road.

  “If Nick told us to be careful one more time, pretty sure I was going to have to put him in a headlock or something,” Derek said, letting out a low whistle. “The first time, sure, but—”

  “Ten times in five minutes?” I chuckled as I turned out onto the highway. “Yeah, I know. A little much, but Nick has reason to be worried. I think the last time he told Harper that, Harper ended up in the hospital with three gunshot wounds to the chest. One of them nearly hit his spine.”

  “Jesus,” Derek breathed. “I noticed that he was a little stiff, but…”

  I swallowed hard, all too aware of something else that was a little stiff. We’d been on the road for less than ten minutes, but shut in the car with Derek like this was leaving me flexing my thighs near constantly just to try and keep my erection at bay. Even for an Omega in heat, whatever pheromones Derek was producing were enough to nearly make me break a sweat.

  “These guys with Zeigler might seem bumbling, but we can’t let our guards down too much.” I cleared my throat, switching the car’s AC onto low as I tried to focus on the job ahead of us. “Even when they were on high alert, someone managed to infiltrate Ernesto’s security team, kidnap Nick, and shoot Harper.”

  “Fuck,” Derek said, blinking in surprise. “Bicroft did all that?”

  “Honestly? We didn’t even know that Bicroft was in the game until you showed up. There’s a whole network of high-level bullshit going on here—and I’d put good money on them all being connected somehow.” Clearing my throat again, I moved my fingers to the button for the radio. “We’ll keep our guard up and worry about that later, though. Mind if I put some music on for now? Might make this drive go a little faster.”

  “By all means.”

  But the second I flipped the radio on, hard rock came rushing out from my car’s speakers and Derek immediately cringed.

  “Not to your liking?”

  Derek gave a little laugh. “Not exactly. Maybe something a little more…mellow?”

  I patted the console. “Take over then, copilot. Find something you like.”

  Derek flipped through stations for a little while until he landed on a classic country station. We caught “Country Roads” in the middle of a chorus, leaving a little smile on my lips.

  “What’s so funny?” Derek raised an eyebrow in my direction.

  I shook my head. “Nothin’. Just good taste.”

  We drove to the musical stylings of outlaw country for about half an hour, with Derek casually humming along from the passenger seat. There was something oddly soothing about the sound of his voice picking up on the melody as rolled along. He obviously had a head for carrying tunes—and for a slick, overeducated Bicroft man, he seemed to know every song that the radio station churned out.

  As the station hit a commercial break, I turned down the volume and glanced over at him.

  “How’re you doing, Derek?” I asked softly.

  “What?” Derek shrugged. “Fine, I guess. This whole Bicroft thing has turned my life upside down a little, but all things considered…”

  I bit my lip. “Actually, I meant about before, ah…this morning, I mean. You and I…”

  De
rek blinked. “Oh. That. Yeah—I had fun, honestly. It was good. Didn’t you?”

  I smiled. “Yeah. I did, actually.”

  “Ah. Well, that’s good then, right?” Derek shifted in his seat, obviously feeling the awkwardness that I’d brought into the car by asking. That was fair enough—I felt it too.

  “Yeah. It’s good,” I confirmed, deciding to let the conversation rest on that.

  It was dumb of me to go bringing it up, I knew. We’d already agreed that we’d had fun. That much had been apparent when we’d unloaded our balls all over each other, hadn’t it?

  It’d just been too long since I’d been with someone, I decided. I was overthinking things. Making more this than I needed to. Fun wasn’t dissecting every moment we spent together, searching for a certain look in his eyes when I caught him staring at me or trying to force back that same look in my eyes when I stared at him. Fun meant enjoying the moment. However brief it might’ve been.

  But enjoying the moment wasn’t my strong suit, any more than maintaining a healthy, constructive relationship was. I was Sisyphus rolling a boulder up a hill here—and if I didn’t knock it off, I knew I was going to fuck things up with Derek just as much as I’d fucked them up with Justin all those years ago.

  Like he was reading my mind, Derek cleared his throat and opened his mouth to speak again. “I, ah…had a conversation with your ex while you were napping back in the lab the other night. I know, I know, you weren’t napping,” he added with a laugh before I could correct him. “He seemed to have it in his head that you and I were, well…”

  “An item. I guessed as much.” Justin had always been like that. Too damn analytical for his own good. Always figuring out what I was thinking before I’d even managed to sort it out for myself. “How’d you feel about that?”

  Derek laughed. “I told him he was crazy. Nothing going on between us. But then, ah…”