Shades of Werewolf

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Shades of Werewolf Page 104

by T. S. Ryder


  “He’s from Roche Laboratories,” she told him, in a considerably warmer tone now that the cause of her irritation was gone, and smiled to him gratefully. He made the best coffee, strong and black, with just a pinch of cinnamon to brighten the flavor.

  Dan sat down, frowning. “Dr. Duquesne’s stomping grounds?” he asked, and Kendra nodded.

  “They want me to take over for him,” she said, prompting Dan whistle and raise his eyebrows, clearly impressed. “Don’t get your hopes up,” she told him straight up. “We’re staying right where we are.”

  Dan smirked. “I know,” he said. “You’re way too invested in the work here to quit. But, for the record, I think you’re making a huge mistake.” Kendra gave him a hostile stare, but he knew her too well to be perturbed by it. “Oh, come on,” he teased her. “Aren’t you even a little bit tempted?”

  She shook her head. “No,” she replied categorically, “I don’t know what their deal is, but it gives me the heebie-jeebies. Nobody offers that kind of position or that kind of money to someone who’s barely made their full credentials, even if they’re as good as I am.”

  She expected Dan to make a joke about her lack of modesty, but he just nodded gravely. “You don’t trust them,” he said.

  “Not one bit,” she confirmed.

  “Dr. Duquesne did,” he noted.

  Kendra sighed, sitting back in her chair. Yes, her mentor had seemed to think that leaving the Moffitt Cancer Center & Research Institute for a private research facility was the right thing to do, but Kendra couldn’t help but be heavily disappointed with him. She had felt betrayed when he’d announced his decision the year before, and they’d had a huge falling out as a result. She was sure they’d never even talk to each other again... but then, about a month and a half ago, he started sending her emails, asking if they could meet. At first, she refused, but he knew her too well – he started sending her microscopic images and laboratory results of blood and tissue that behaved in a way that, frankly, should not have been possible, tickling her curiosity until she finally gave in and met up with him.

  A part of her hoped this would be the start of their reconciliation, but even though their relationship improved, it was clear it would never be what it once was. Dr. Duquesne refused to give her any more information than he absolutely had to, which made each of their meetings both a delight and a major source of frustration. And now that he was dead, all hope that they could truly patch things up (or that she’d ever find out what the hell he was working on) was gone.

  They had had one of their meetings scheduled for the day he died, but he had never showed up or answered his phone, leaving Kendra irritated and angry, thinking she was being stood up without a word... and then devastated with pain and guilt when, that evening, she had seen the news of the car accident that took his life. Relying on eyewitness accounts, the police suspected a drunk truck driver took a wrong turn, slamming into Dr. Duquesne’s rental and killing him on the spot before fleeing the scene of the crime.

  Kendra was heartbroken and disgusted with herself for how angry she’d been with him that entire day. The only reason Dr. Duquesne was in Tampa that day was to meet with her, and she couldn’t help feeling responsible even though she knew she was being irrational. He had chosen to look her up. He had set the meetings up. She wasn’t even marginally to blame, but her heart still hurt every time she remembered he was gone, and the only thing that brought her joy in the ten days after the accident was the thought of her upcoming vacation.

  But even the memory of him, even the prestige and money that would come with taking over his job at Roche Laboratories, even a chance to finally see what this mysterious and baffling thing he was working on was couldn’t convince her to leave Moffitt. If Mr. Beauchamp had been more upfront about the kind of work Roche did, she would’ve been tempted, but he was even vaguer than Dr. Duquesne, and Kendra refused to risk her peace of mind to satisfy her curiosity or clean her credit score.

  “It doesn’t matter,” she finally said, “I’m staying here, and that’s that. And, besides, I’ll be damned if I’m gonna miss Maui just to dive into even more work than I have here.” She grinned, gladdened by remembering that, this time tomorrow, she’d be lying about on a beach in a private resort, completely cut off from any communication with the rest of the world. She had worked for three years without a single day off to make it happen, and she wouldn’t miss it for the world.

  “Can’t argue with that logic,” Dan grinned and stood up to go about his business, leaving Kendra to go back to hers.

  She had quite as few things to finish up before she could go home to pick up her luggage and get to the airport.

  Chapter Two

  “Well?” Sebastien Roche asked his second as he picked up the phone, too tense to bother with pleasantry.

  “She won’t take it,” Alex sighed, frustrated.

  Sebastien swore a blue streak, slamming his fist against the armrest of his chair out of sheer frustration. “Did you tell her about the money?” he demanded to know. “That she’d be the head of her own lab?”

  Alex sounded defeated. “I tried everything,” he told him, “I amped up the charm, played to her ambition and vanity, tried scaring her into taking it – I even flirted with her... nothing worked.”

  Even in his current state, Sebastien couldn’t help but snicker. “You don’t usually see flirtation as a sacrifice,” he teased his friend, but Alex was not amused.

  “She’s fat,” he replied, sounding like a whiny child, and Sebastien rolled his eyes.

  “And she didn’t immediately fall for you,” he noted.

  “And she didn’t immediately fall for me,” Alex confirmed the true source of his irritation. He was much too used to being adored by both men and women alike for his pride to take being brushed off so easily by anyone, let alone someone he considered severely unattractive – a category that included far too many people to make Alex a realistic judge of anyone’s physical appeal.

  “So what do we do now?” Alex asked, all lightness gone from the conversation.

  “You know what we do now,” Sebastien replied with a sigh. He hated being driven to such drastic measures, but he was desperate... and rapidly running out of time. If it had been only his life on the line, he’d never stoop so low, but his entire Clan was in jeopardy – and unless they found a way to defeat the disease, their entire species.

  He had no other choice.

  “I don’t like this, Seb,” Alex said gravely. Sebastien closed his eyes.

  “Me neither,” he said. “But it has to be done. Keith confided in her. She was a big part of his research, even if she had no idea what she was doing, and knows more about the recent developments in his works than she’s aware. She could be instrumental to finding the cure, and we can’t risk missing that chance, no matter how small.” After all, if his brother-in-law was willing to put everything on the line to use her expertise, then she had to be able to do something he couldn’t, something he couldn’t get from anyone else.

  They needed her, and if she wouldn’t come to them on her own, they had to take her by force.

  “Have the team on standby,” he ordered. “I want her here tonight.”

  Chapter Three

  Kendra managed to finish her work just in the nick of time and was waiting for her cab at the curb in front of her apartment building by 9 pm. She honestly couldn’t wait to get on that plane and leave all her worries behind. She’d splurged way more on this vacation than she probably should have, but damn it, she needed some rest and relaxation, and more than deserved the pampering she’d arranged.

  Just then, a cab pulled over and an uncommonly handsome young man stepped out from the driver’s side. “Miss Allenby?” he asked, and Kendra was too glad he was there on time to bother correcting him, simply nodding in reply instead. The cabbie said nothing, just nodded back and started loading her bags into the trunk before opening the door to the back for her.

  “Thank you,” Kendra
said, a little weirded out by his behavior, but choosing not to let it bother her too much. So the kid was a little antisocial, big deal. He probably had his reasons.

  And she was right... but the cabbie’s reasons turned out to be more sinister than she thought.

  For the most of the ride, other than the silence, nothing was out of the ordinary, and Kendra spent that time on her phone, replying to emails. It was by sheer accident that she happened to lift her head when the cabbie took what she knew to be the wrong turn. “You should’ve taken the left,” she said, her brow furrowing a little, but he said continued to drive as if she hadn’t spoken at all. Suddenly, Kendra began feeling anxious. She put the phone down and knocked on the glass panel between them. “Excuse me,” she called out to him, praying that he had simply misheard her but fearing much, much worse. “You’re going the wrong way,” she told him, but instead of a reply, he just stopped the car.

  Out of nowhere, two more men entered the cab, one taking the passenger’s seat in the front, and Alexander Beauchamp taking the back seat with her.

  Eyes wide in shock, Kendra reached for the pepper spray in her purse, but Mr. Beauchamp grabbed her by the chin, moving much, much faster than any human should’ve been able to, and his eyes, glistening silver, burrowed into hers.

  “Sleep,” he ordered...

  ...and the next thing she knew, she was waking up on a bed in a strange room, rising up with a start, as if waking from a nightmare. Her heart beat wildly as she frantically looked around, trying to process what had happened to her, fear muddling her mind so much that she didn’t even realize someone else was in the room with her until they spoke.

  “Good evening, Dr. Allenby.” A very deep, very masculine voice drew her attention to the chair by the window. Bathed in the dim light of a nearby floor lamp, a very rough looking man sat there, comfortably sprawled, chin resting atop his hand, his arm propped on the armrest. He looked indolent, yet the almost predatory level of focus in his eyes made Kendra believe he’d take no more than a second to pounce at her throat if he thought her a threat. There was something... very hungry about him, a sharp edge she couldn’t quite identify, but it hit her deep on a very instinctive level, and she knew she needed to be very careful around him.

  But that didn’t mean she was willing to play the damsel in distress.

  “Who are you and where the hell am I?” she demanded to know.

  “You are where you need to be,” he replied, without much emotion. “And I am your host for the time being. My name is Sebastien Roche.”

  Roche...

  The pieces fell into place.

  “Do you always kidnap people who refuse to come work for you?” she asked, showing what was probably too much anger for someone who needed to watch their step.

  “If you’d taken our offer, there wouldn’t have been a need to bring you in by force,” he said dismissively. “All you need to know is that the only way you will walk out of here is if you do what I tell you to.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “You will,” he told her with absolute certainty. “You have no other choice.”

  Well. That wasn’t ominous or anything.

  “People will notice I’m gone,” she said, trying to plant a seed of doubt in him.

  It didn’t work.

  “We sent an email from your phone to the resort, canceling your arrangement,” he replied matter-of-factly. “And we know you chose a secluded resort, and that no one expects to hear from you until after your return. Do your job right, and you’ll be released before anyone realizes something’s wrong.”

  Insane. The man was positively insane. “And you think that I won’t instantly go to the police because...?”

  Sebastien Roche rose from his seat and approached the bed slowly, like a prowling tiger. “You’ll see why soon enough,” he said, watching her intently. She should’ve been terrified of the way he looked at her, the way he loomed over the bed... but, as much as she hated to admit, though she still felt the need to be careful around him, the fear was slowly dissipating, making it harder and harder for her to ignore the raw strength emanating from him. It wasn’t just his build, either. Oh, yes, he was tall, taller than most men she knew, and built to exquisite proportion, all hard muscle under that mocha skin, accentuated rather than hidden by the tight black t-shirt and dark blue jeans that hung low on his hips. His dark hair was cropped close to the scalp, and his face, rough but handsome, carried features that spoke of his Creole ancestry, gifting him full lips, an aquiline nose and expressive, amber eyes.

  But there was more to him than that. No man could exude such power on physique alone, even such an impressive one as his was. There was... a sense of command about him like he was someone used to dealing out orders and seeing them obeyed without question. It struck a very primal nerve within her, which annoyed her to no end. He had snatched her against her will and with the intent to force her into god knows what, all because she had refused to take the bait he’d dangled before her just earlier that day! She should despise him, not be thinking about how hot he was. For crying out loud, she’d just met the man – she should at least hold out for a few days before she let Stockholm Syndrome kick in.

  For a minute or so, he just stood there, watching her, but then he closed his eyes and sighed, making Kendra wonder what exactly was going through his head.

  “There’s food on the night stand,” he said, abruptly opening his eyes, and beginning to walk to the door. “The shower’s to your left, and your clothes are in the wardrobe. Eat, get dressed and come find me. The guards at the door will show you the way.” And, just like that, he was gone.

  Frowning, Kendra got off the bed and approached the window. She had no idea where she was, though she suspected it was somewhere in Louisiana – she knew from conversations with Dr. Duquesne that Roche Laboratories was situated in Louisiana, and her host’s lazy drawl only solidified her presumption. The exact location, however, remained a mystery, for all she could see was an enormous lawn and the beginning of a wood that seemed to stretch out endlessly into the dark. The window was barred, and it seemed the room was at least two floors up, which instantly eliminated one possible escape route. She was still wearing the clothes she was in when her cab was jumped, so at least she knew they hadn’t violated her... any more than they already had, that was. She thought that the cabbie was probably in on the whole thing, and cursed herself for not trusting her instincts when she should have. Now she was in a mess she had no idea how to get out of, and had only the word of her captor that she would survive the ordeal.

  She found the main switch on the wall and turned on the light. The room they had put her in was large, and decorated in the ornate elegance of Louis Quinze. Pretty, but not something she’d choose herself. Still, it spoke of the kind of luxury one couldn’t easily acquire within a single lifetime and confirmed many rumors about the reclusive Roche family, who were rumored to be involved in many charities and even more investments, working mostly through intermediaries so they could enjoy their lives far away from the public eye.

  Turning her mind to her current predicament, Kendra began to investigate the room, hoping to find something, anything that would give her at least some advantage, but she was out of luck. Her kidnappers clearly knew what they were doing. The only things in the room were her clothes, shoes and cosmetics, all neatly arranged in appropriate locations. Her laptop, her phone, her documents... she had no idea where they were, but they sure as hell weren’t here.

  Sighing in frustration, she decided that, for the time being, she needed to play the part of the good little captive. Perhaps if she made herself seem unthreatening, they’d loosen up the restraints they had on her and she could escape, or at least sneak a secret message out when they force her into sending one of those emails Sebastien spoke of. She sat on the edge of the bed, next to the nightstand, where a large serving tray held a covered plate and a bone china set consisting of a single cup and saucer, a sugar bowl, a creamer dish an
d a pot of coffee. She lifted the cloche off the plate to reveal a beautifully prepared meal of broiled chicken with steamed rice and a colorful mix of sautéed vegetables on the side. Her mouth watered at the sight of it – she’d skipped dinner, counting on the in-flight meal, which she had clearly never received. She wondered if she should leave the food untouched, but decided that would be counterproductive. If she intended to run the first chance she had, she needed to keep her strength... and she could really use the coffee. She had no idea what time it was, but it was night and she was obviously expected to stay up a while longer. The more alert she could keep herself, the better.

  Half an hour or so later, the plate was polished, the coffee was gone, and Kendra had made full use of the bathroom, which was just as large and lavish as she expected it to be. She’d changed her clothes as well, and once she felt she was as ready to face whatever it was that awaited her outside this room as she’d ever be, she knocked on the door and waited for the guards Sebastien told her were there to open it.

  She wasn’t surprised at all when one of those guards turned out to be Alexander Beauchamp.

  This time, she didn’t even bother to control herself and smacked the bastard with a jab to the cheek that would’ve made her Tae Bo instructor proud.

  She expected the other guard to restrain her, but he just laughed heartily while Beauchamp swore like a sailor.

  “Well.” The other man turned to Kendra, clearly amused (and, dare she say, impressed?). “Now that you got that out of your system... I’m Stefan. You ready to go?”

  She nodded, trading dirty looks with Beauchamp before they took her away to hopefully find out what the hell was going on.

 

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