Siren's Surrender

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Siren's Surrender Page 22

by Devyn Quinn


  Thompson’s own wall of indifference didn’t budge one bit. “I hope you’re not taking your involvement with these things too personally, Agent Whittaker. First and foremost, the Mer have been classified as aliens, albeit indigenous to Earth. Beyond that, they are not human. And we are aware they are dangerous and can turn on people at any moment.”

  It didn’t take much to drag up the incident Thompson was referring to. “What Gwen did when I was attacked was just her reaction to a moment of stress. If she hadn’t helped, I probably wouldn’t be here now.”

  No need to mention that his lack of preparation and clumsy reflexes had gotten a fellow agent killed. They’d badly underestimated the hostile Mers. Even without their soul-stones, these women were well trained in hand-to-hand combat. They were also prepared to sacrifice their lives to serve their monarch.

  They were damn lucky Queen Magaera and Jake Massey hadn’t managed to lay hands on Tessa. He could only imagine what it would be like to have thousands of Mer soldiers streaming into the Mediterranean Sea.

  That knowledge in turn presented another dilemma. Now that they knew Tessa controlled the sea-gate, it wouldn’t be safe to let her go. Lifetime captivity seemed to loom in everyone’s future, hardly a pleasant thought at all.

  “And that is why we have them in quarantine and under observation,” Thompson reminded. “We have to know what we’re dealing with on all levels.”

  Blake couldn’t resist rolling his eyes. “Oh, come on,” he scoffed. “Their kind has been here as long as humans have. Maybe even longer. More people die in car accidents than from rogue mermaid attacks.”

  “That we know of,” Thompson added seriously. “Who knows how many unreported incidents are out there? There has to be a reason they went into hiding.”

  It was getting harder and harder for Blake to keep cold indifference in place. Arguing with Thompson was aggravating. And it was giving him a headache. Not to mention an intense desire to slam the asshole’s head into the wall. Many times, and with much force.

  “Maybe because they were driven to extinction,” he retorted.

  Thompson drew himself up to his full height, which wasn’t much at all. “That is not the story we’ve gotten so far,” he countered. “According to the facts as I have them, the sea-gate was closed because of tensions between the two races. Tensions, which I will remind you, still exist to this very day.”

  Blake reached for calm, but it lay just beyond the tips of his fingers. Tension formed painful hard knots in his shoulders. “I will grant you the Mer of Ishaldi are hostile. But Gwen and her sisters definitely are not. They’re on our side.”

  Planting his hands in his pockets, Thompson rocked back on his heels. “The sisters may have been born on our side and may have adapted to our human ways, but others of their kind do not seem to be as domesticated.”

  Beneath his heavy brows his eyes became twin pools of steel. “That is, if my understanding of the story is correct. I did get my information from the report you filed, which Tessa Lonike verified with an addendum in her own words.” His gaze narrowed, threatening slits of displeasure. “If it isn’t, you’d damn well better have some corrections on my desk. ASAP.”

  Blake gave in and nodded. As much as he didn’t like it, Thompson was his direct superior. He had to answer to the man. Getting emotional wouldn’t do any good. If nothing else, he must maintain the facade of distant professionalism if he wanted to be kept in the loop.

  “Just don’t be so hard on the girls. They’re doing the best they can to cooperate. All they want is to go home and go back to their lives.”

  Thompson smirked. “They’ll have to dream on. The chance of that happening is a million to one. Whether they like it or not, the Mer are now the property of the U.S. government.”

  Their conversation was interrupted when two more attendants rolled in another body stretched out on a gurney. One of the hostile Mers was strapped to its cold metal surface. The gurney holding the corpse was removed, and hers rolled into its place. Stripped bare from head to foot, heavy straps restrained her at wrist and ankles. Her head lolled weakly from side to side.

  Blake absorbed most of it in a single glance. The fine hairs on the back of his neck prickled with attention. The woman was still very much alive. So why was she in a room designed for autopsy?

  The foreboding he felt intensified with every passing second. Surely they aren’t going to try it. He stopped that notion dead in its tracks. “What the hell’s going on?” he demanded.

  “They are going to attempt to retrieve samples from a more viable source,” Thompson answered simply.

  Blake didn’t even want to think about it. “There’s one problem with that idea,” he protested. “She’s still alive.”

  “Don’t be such a pussy. She did try to kill you. Turnabout is fair play.” Thompson waved a hand. “She will be euthanized in the most painless way possible.” His reply was coarse and direct.

  “Why do they have to kill her to get it?” he demanded. “Why can’t they take samples by performing a live surgery?”

  Dennis Thompson didn’t bat an eye. “The doctors have decided they want a cadaver fully intact to explore before they go trying live surgery on one of those things.” He glanced toward the unlucky mermaid. “You know this is the way science works, Whittaker. We wouldn’t be where we are today if someone wasn’t willing to do the dirty work.”

  Blake could hardly believe his ears. Dirty work was one thing. He’d performed a lot of it himself, as a ranger and a sniper in the army. He knew what dirty work and double dealing was all about. But murder, plain and simple, was a whole other ballgame. One he didn’t want to be associated with. This went above and beyond the call of duty to any government.

  Blake continued to stare at Thompson, all the while feeling rage and hatred rising within. “I don’t think death is painless.”

  Thompson leaned closer, giving Blake a whiff of his tacky aftershave. “This isn’t the first time we’ve done this,” he said under his breath. “The Mer aren’t the first alien life-forms we’ve encountered and they won’t be the last.” He shrugged. “You know the old saying. There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in men’s philosophies.”

  Blake brushed him off. “I’m aware it goes something like that.” His voice was pure ice.

  He didn’t think he wanted to know what else the agency had hidden away in its endless vaults. He had a feeling he wouldn’t like what he’d find if he were to take a look. The moral and spiritual ramifications were already causing him more problems than he cared to admit.

  Blake forced himself to turn away from the viewing pane. He wasn’t going to watch this shit. No way. Jesus H. Christ. This wasn’t science. It was torture, little more than government-sanctioned slaughter.

  And it was wrong.

  An image of Gwen stretched out naked and helpless flashed through his mind.

  It’ll come down to her, a prescient voice whispered in his ear. One by one, they’ll all go under the scalpel.

  Tests. Tests. And more tests.

  The damn testing was starting to get on Gwen’s nerves. She’d been run through the wringer until she was ready to scream.

  At the moment, she sat in a simple white room, windowless and no exit except for a single door. The isolation was necessary, they’d explained, because they wanted to measure her cognitive psychic abilities without interruption or outside influences.

  Good enough.

  The room was outfitted with a simple folding card table and two metal chairs. Not much of a distraction there. The doctor running the experiment, who’d been introduced as Von Drak, was a middle-aged man, balding with a pot belly. He spoke in a thick Austrian accent. Every time he opened his mouth, all she could see in her mind’s eye was an aging, fat, bald Terminator.

  She inwardly winced. Sorry, Arnold.

  Dr. Von Drak worked a series of cards, some with letters, some with simple pictures. A yellow notepad and pen sat nearby ready
to record his findings. The idea was he would envision the image on the card in his own mind, and then Gwen would supposedly pluck it from his brain.

  “Are you ready?” he asked.

  Gwen nodded. “Sure. Fire away.”

  Von Drak held up the first card. His forehead wrinkled with intense concentration. “Can you tell me what I am looking at?” he asked in all seriousness.

  Gwen leaned forward, planting her elbows on the table and lacing her fingers together. She wrinkled her own brow with what she hoped was a display of appropriate intensity. “Yes,” she answered. “It is a number three.”

  Von Drak’s eyes lit up. “Correct.” He placed the card to one side and drew another. “And this one?”

  Gwen concentrated harder. “It is a cat.”

  “Excellent,” the doctor exclaimed. “You are most perceptive.” He drew a third card. “And this?” he asked after a minute had ticked by.

  Gwen paused. Really, this was too damn easy. “It’s a star,” she finally answered.

  Von Drak scribbled some notes in an almost indecipherable handwriting. They went through the rest of the stack in about ten minutes.

  “All cards identified correctly,” he announced at the end of the test. “Amazing.”

  Hands still laced in front of her body, Gwen blew out a breath. “Not so amazing.” Freeing a hand, she pointed toward his glasses. “The cards are reflected in your lenses. I can see everything you look at, backward but perfectly clear.”

  Von Drak groaned in disappointment. “How stupid of me,” he muttered.

  Gwen bit down on her tongue to keep from saying anything that would reveal her own ideas about the entire matter. She was tired of having her time wasted with such trivial shit.

  So what if the Mer could pick up on people’s feelings or draw a little energy out of a stone? Did it really matter much? In her mind, no. In their minds, however, they’d gotten hold of something more valuable than raw plutonium.

  “Sorry,” she offered. “It was too easy.”

  Von Drak laughed. “I suppose it was. Tell me if you will, though, how psychic are the Mer?”

  Gwen shrugged. More damn questions. “Not very.”

  She hoped the sooner she answered the sooner she could get out of here. Except for brief glimpses of Tessa and Addison, she’d been almost totally isolated from her sisters during the testing. The girls were being kept far apart. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to guess why, either.

  Because we’re more powerful when we are together.

  It was true they had time in the evenings to catch up with one another, but those meetings were more than a little awkward. Nobody wanted Whittaker around and nobody wanted to answer his questions anymore.

  For the sake of her family, Gwen did her best to dodge him, putting as much distance between them as possible. She didn’t want to be around him, or alone with him at all. Mostly because she feared she’d give in to the temptation to have him again.

  Damn it! Even though they’d spent just a single night together, she wanted him more than ever.

  When she was alone, she let her mind drift back to that night. Reliving his every word, every gesture, every touch. The way his big hands had teased her body through flashes of heat. The way his lips had traced the curve of her neck and breasts. The way his hips had moved against hers as he conquered the very core of her womanhood.

  Memories of Blake tightened the muscles across her belly and thighs, producing an indescribable surge of pleasure deep inside her body. Her heartbeat quickened, sending a hot throb of blood through her. Even the tips of her toes tingled.

  It was easy to picture the only time she’d seen him, naked and stretched across her bed. She’d been stunned by the way he’d looked at her, his brooding gaze drinking her in even as a smile of satisfaction turned up one corner of his sensual mouth.

  By the goddess above. She’d loved being with him. Loved being taken by him. For the first time in a long time, she wasn’t plagued by her Mercraft running amok as she slept. Her mind was too preoccupied spinning sensual fantasies around Blake. He’d been exactly what she needed.

  And she wanted more.

  She swallowed tightly. As much as she hated to admit it, it was difficult to keep her heart out of the equation. She’d met the perfect man.

  And I can’t have him, her wicked brain cells reminded. The man I’ve waited all my life for.

  Of course it was his job that separated them. Technically, he was one of them. An agent of the government holding them against their will. Yes, she knew the spiel. That it was for their own preservation while authorities hunted for Jake Massey and the rest of the rogue Mer.

  There was one small problem.

  She didn’t feel very safe.

  With so many thoughts and concerns pressing in from a thousand different sides, Gwen felt exhausted. Physically and mentally tired. An ache was beginning to build behind her temples, warning of the headache to come.

  Dr. Von Drak interrupted her thoughts. “Well, since the results of this test have been nullified, do you mind if we move on to something else?”

  Gwen sighed. “Must we?”

  His grin was self-effacing. “Hopefully this next challenge will be a bit more difficult for you.” Pushing away from the table, he indicated that she should follow. “Come this way, please.”

  Gwen followed him down a short hall and into another room. This one was a little more elaborately outfitted. It looked like a firing range. Two more doctors worked with Addison, who was sliding the Ri’kah off her wrist.

  Seeing her sister, Addison grinned. “Hey, you missed some hellacious shooting.” Laying the weapon down, she pointed to a series of mannequins. The plastic replicas of humans were blasted and blackened, hardly recognizable.

  Gwen gasped as she surveyed the carnage. “What the hell did you do?”

  Addison extended the thumb and forefingers of both hands, imitating guns cocked and ready to fire. “They’re testing our psi-abilities. Man, mine’s really starting to come out. The more I practice with that thing, the better I get.”

  Her answer was precisely what Gwen didn’t want to hear.

  She looked at Von Drak. Remembering what she’d done to Chiara, she felt cold hands clamp around her spine. “You can count me out. I will not use my Mercraft again in any way that is destructive.”

  Addison squinched up her face. “Ah, come on. It’s fun to show off.”

  Of course Addison would go into it whole hog and damn the consequences.

  Gwen rounded on her sister. Closing her fingers around Addison’s arm, she dragged her to one side. Fury, wordless and totally incoherent, welled deep in her throat. “I don’t know what you think is going on,” she snapped. “But we’re not here to show off and make a spectacle of ourselves. This is serious business, Addie. Right now their entire perception of the Mer is based on violence and the damage we can do to humans. I don’t know about you, but this isn’t the sort of attention I’ve ever wanted. I want to go home.”

  Addison immediately jerked her arm away. “I want to go home, too,” she yelled back. “That’s why I’m trying to cooperate, show them everything. If they know all we can do, they won’t be afraid.” Offering a little smile of apology, she shrugged helplessly. “Right?”

  Gwen studied her sister’s adamantly squared shoulders and fiery eyes. She refused to be cowed, or intimidated. Unlike her, Addison was willing to embrace her inner Mer, revel in the power and abilities being a mermaid offered. She wished she could accept them as easily and without reservation.

  “I know you’re doing what you think is right—” she started to say.

  Addison cut her short. “Don’t you ever get tired of hating yourself, Gwen?” she asked. “Being afraid of being different is no way to live. We are what we are. It’s time you accept what you can’t change. You’re a Mer. Get over it.”

  The people in the room cringed, waiting for the inevitable explosion.

  It never came.


  Swallowing hard, Gwen let her hand drop. “You’re right,” she admitted slowly, in a voice laced with resignation and defeat. “I can pretend all day long I’m human, but deep down inside I’m still a Mer. I can’t change it, can’t stop being what I am.”

  Addison reached out, giving her arm a little squeeze of reassurance. “It’s not so bad here, Gwen. We could actually start over if we had to.” She paused a moment, then continued. “I’m starting to feel like I fit in. You know?”

  “Well, I don’t!” Gwen snapped back. “And I never will.”

  Dr. Von Drak cleared his throat. “If you don’t feel up to further testing today, perhaps it should be put off for another time.”

  Setting her personal ruminations aside for later examination, Gwen glanced at the remnants of the mannequins Addison had destroyed. Her gaze sidled over to the Ri’kah confiscated from the hostile Mer. Tessa’s had also been taken into custody, giving researchers two good examples of ancient Mer technology.

  Her jaw clenched automatically at the thought of using it against anyone. Her gaze slid toward the people in the room. The humans. Throwing her craft against Chiara to defend Blake was one thing. But using it against a human . . .

  Her heart rate bumped up a notch. What if I had to defend myself against them?

  Would she be able to do it?

  Sucking in an anxious breath, she made a quick decision. It was time to stop being intimidated by what others might think about her. She’d spent twenty-seven years jumping at her own shadow. Enough was enough.

  Gwen swore under her breath. I won’t be afraid anymore .

  Drawing back her shoulders like a soldier about to march off into combat, her attention shifted back toward the waiting scientists. “Put out some fresh targets and get ready to step back.” She flashed a smile toward Addison. “I’m about to show this kid how to do it right.”

  Chapter 18

  An hour later, Gwen slid the Ri’kah off her arm. Although she’d intended to give a display of guns ablazing, the most she’d managed to extract from the thing was a few weak sizzles and pops. She simply could not make the weapon work the way Addison and Tessa could.

 

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