by Sandra Cox
Cover Copy
It’s a dirty job, but some mutant’s got to do it…
Joel Eisler is a mutant with special talents. He can detect an oil leak in the ocean simply by tasting the water. Because of this unique ability, he’s been purchased by a large oil company, along with his dolph sister, Amy. The upside of spending his days and nights in the ocean is that it gives him the opportunity to save the lives of his brother dolphins. The downsides are life as a closely monitored slave—and that he can’t be with Piper, the dolph-girl he loves…
To make matters worse, Joel discovers the lab he grew up in has extracted his sperm and Piper’s egg and created a baby, and his handler, Craven, is plotting to kidnap Amy for more experiments. Now Joel must rescue the infant, bring her to Piper, and find a way to save Amy. And if that’s not enough of a challenge, he needs to convince Piper she belongs with him instead of her all-too-human boyfriend—if Craven doesn’t get to them first…
Visit us at www.kensingtonbooks.com
Books by Sandra Cox
Mutants Series
Love, Lattes and Mutants
Love, Lattes and Danger
Ghost for Sale
Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation
Love, Lattes and Danger
A Mutants Novel
Sandra Cox
LYRICAL PRESS
Kensington Publishing Corp.
www.kensingtonbooks.com
Copyright
Lyrical Press books are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp. 119 West 40th Street New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2015 by Sandra Cox
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
All Kensington titles, imprints, and distributed lines are available at special quantity discounts for bulk purchases for sales promotion, premiums, fund- raising, and educational or institutional use.
To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.
Special book excerpts or customized printings can also be created to fit specific needs. For details, write or phone the office of the Kensington Special Sales Manager:
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018
Attn. Special Sales Department. Phone: 1-800-221-2647.
Kensington and the K logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.
Lyrical Press and the L logo are trademarks of Kensington Publishing Corp.
First Electronic Edition: August 2015
eISBN-13: 978-1-61650-608-7
eISBN-10: 1-61650-610-5
Printed in the United States of America
Chapter 1
The door opens and my breath stops. I’m not sure my pounding heart hasn’t as well. Inside a five by four foot tube, filled with a blue aqueous substance, I see her.
Tingles of electricity shoot through me, leaving me immobilized, powerless to move. A baby! Light blond hair floats like seaweed in the water. If I were to guess, I’d place her at seven pounds.
Instead of giving me an unfocused look, she stares directly at me and places both hands on the side of the tube. A long umbilical cord runs from her tiny belly button to an outlet inside the cylinder where it’s attached.
As if in a trance, I move forward and put my hands up against her small ones on the other side of the tube. She smiles at me. Piper’s smile. The dolph-girl I’m in love with. That I saw for the first time in these very labs. I remember the day after Piper’s tests, how weak and shaky she was. It should have clued me in then. Stranger must have harvested her egg.
My spinning thoughts return to the infant. If my heart could move from my body, it would drop at the little water nymph’s feet. I study her as closely as she studies me. She has the turquoise eyes of a dolph. They shine in the bright blue liquid
Even with Piper’s mouth and nose, she has the look of me.
No.
It can’t be. It’s not possible, we never…
A thought comes like an iceberg breaking up into dangerous fragments. The weird erotic dreams I’d had while under sedation. I hadn’t thought of them in months.
My mind recoils. She can’t be mine. But she is. I know it deep in my bones. Somehow, Stranger extracted my sperm.
As I walk around the tube, she turns with me. I need to see her shoulder. “Stay still, little one.” I’m stunned when she stops moving. Can she really understand me?
I move around until I can see her left shoulder. There’s a small brown birthmark in the shape of a fish. It exactly matches the one on my shoulder.
My breath comes hard and fast. Somehow he did it. The bastard took my sperm and Piper’s egg and created this little beauty.
I should hate him, but how can I hate him for creating something so exquisite? She turns her back to me. If I needed any more confirmation that she was Piper’s, I don’t any longer. She has a blowhole, just like her mom. Floating, she turns around. Once again, she places her hands up against mine. They are so very tiny. I fight back feelings that threaten to overwhelm. I have a daughter. Piper and I have a child.
Panic surges through me. What am I going to do? I’m nothing more than a slave myself. They’ll treat her like a pedigreed dog and sell her and I’ll never see her again. I fight against the protective urge that overwhelms me, afraid the weight of it will bury me. Not wishing to transmit my despair, I smile and say, “You’re a smart baby aren’t you?”
She giggles, causing bubbles to float in the liquid. I relax a bit, fighting down the panic. Somehow I’ll get her out of here. I’ll take her to Piper. Piper is free. She can raise her.
Breaking the glass and making a run for it is an option, but at this point, I’m not sure she can survive outside of her tube. In the corner of the room is a bassinette and changing table, signs that it won’t be long before she can be detached from her unnatural umbilical cord. I place my mouth against the side of the tube and whisper, “When you’re out of that liquid, I’ll come back for you and take you to your mom.”
I swear she nods. Her intelligence is uncanny. What the hell did Stranger add to her gene pool to produce it?
I tear myself away. No one must know I’ve been here. “I’ll be back for you, sweetings.” She coos, causing more bubbles to float to the top of the tank. For a moment, she’s just a baby.
It makes my heart hurt to leave her. This isn’t good. I can’t have this attachment to her. It’s bad enough dealing with the feelings I have for her mother.
I force myself to walk away on legs that I’m having problems bending. I’ve only ever felt this way about two other people, my sister and Piper, and yet this is different. This baby is part of me and the woman I love, even if she was created in an unholy manner.
I reach the door, turn around, and find her watching me, so I lift my hand in farewell. She copies the gesture. I take one last look, force myself to smile reassuringly then I’m out the door. My mind going a mile a minute, I trot down the hall. I have to find out when she is going to be released from the amniotic fluid.
For now, I just have to get out of here before I’m discovered. If I’m going to get her out, I have to distance myself from my emotions.
I head for Dr. Stranger’s office, the mad scientist in charge of this lunatic asylum. He and Craven, my keeper, stand talking, their heads together, voices low. Two words drift back to me. Amy. Eggs. My blood chills.
Craven sees me and he straightens,
lip curling. “Where have you been, mutant? The attendant said they finished checking your chip and blood ten minutes ago.” Craven hates mutants. He and Leif Voorhees are the only people at Ziccon, the oil company that bought me, who know what I am.
“I had to hit the head.”
Dr. Stranger studies me from behind his rimless glasses, probably trying to figure out if I overheard the conversation. Piper once said his eyes reminded her of a shark’s, flat and without emotion. “I’m surprised you didn’t steal a minute to go see the dolphins.”
“Yeah, one or two more surgeries, you’ll look just like those flat-nosed fish you’re so fond of. Ever seen the movie The Fly?” Craven throws in, trying to get a rise out of me.
Oddly enough, Craven’s comments seldom bother me, except as an annoyance, like being dive bombed by a mosquito.
Stranger, on the other hand, takes exception. He pokers up. “Do you have a problem with the product?”
“Oh yeah, I have a problem. He’s an abomination.”
“Does Ziccon share your views?”
Craven starts to spit on the floor, then apparently thinks better of it and does a noisy swallow instead. “The company is perfectly happy with the resident freak. His ability to taste oil in water and find the leaks in the tankers has saved them billions. But that doesn’t make him any less a sin against nature.”
“Yet you have no problem making money off my creations.”
The good doctor may not care about insults to my person but he certainly won’t allow anyone to criticize what he considers his handiwork.
“Yeah, well, I don’t like cows but I have no problem eating them.”
I lean against the wall and plaster a bored look on my face, while my mind races. How do I get my daughter out of that tank? And Amy… Is Craven in cahoots with Stranger? Does Ziccon know these two mad men are going to try to harvest eggs from my sister? How do I stop it? I don’t know yet, but I’ll find a way.
A security guard approaches and speaks to Craven. “Sir, your chopper is ready.”
Craven gives him a curt nod and turns to Stranger. “I’ll be back with the girl for her checkup in two weeks’ time.”
“Yes, she’ll need her checkup, and of course, she’ll have to come back again for the rest of her vaccinations.”
A look passes between them that makes my stomach cramp. I didn’t misunderstand. He jerks a thumb at me. “You say this one’s blood work and tracker are fine?”
“That’s right. He should be good for another six months if you keep him healthy.”
“What if he takes a notion to remove the tracker?”
My ears perk up. Can I?
Dr. Stranger strokes his cheek. I’ve never seen stubble or a whisker on his chin. I wonder if he can even grow facial hair. “He’d probably lose all motion and feeling in that arm. The tracker has grown into the muscle and is surrounded by nerves. It would be excruciatingly painful.”
I could deal with the pain, maybe even the loss of feeling. The loss of motion…no way.
“Well, now we wouldn’t want to cause the mutant any pain, would we?” The gleam in Craven’s eyes says otherwise.
I ignore him and ask Stranger, “I didn’t see any other dolphs around. Are you planning on closing up shop?”
“Hardly.” He gives a humorless laugh. “I have another dolph on the way. She should be here any day.” His cold eyes gleam with triumph.
“Hmmph.” I ignore the sharp prick of nerves racing through me and give a disinterested shrug.
“Come on, mutant, Voorhees will be wondering where you’re at.” Craven shoves me. If I hadn’t been expecting it, I would have stumbled, but I’m up on all his petty little tricks.
Craven answers to Leif. Surprisingly, unlike Craven, Leif treats me like a human being—albeit a human being in bondage.
I start forward. “Joel,” Stranger’s voice rings out.
“Yes?”
“You don’t have to worry about any more surgeries on your person. You are officially obsolete.”
Chapter 2
The hair on the back of my neck rises. If I were a dog, I’d bare my teeth. The bastard is talking about my child. Instead, I force out a nonchalant, “Glad to hear it,” and amble out the door, Craven at my heels. He points to the backseat of the chopper and climbs in front. With a whip, whip, the helicopter lifts off.
My mind racing, I lean back against the seat and pretend to sleep. I have to figure a way to get the baby out of the lab and Amy out of the clutches of the oil company. We’re going to have to make a break for it.
The problem is the damn trackers. It’s not going to do a lot of good if they can shadow our every move. Do I run the risk of immobility and try to find a surgeon to take it out? I don’t even know if it’s possible. And if I could, wouldn’t that information get back to Ziccon? Is there some way of blocking it?
Several hours later, when the chopper touches down on the offshore rig, I still haven’t come up with a solution.
I step off the helo onto a dimly lit deck. The night breeze smells of salt and fish. It’s late enough that there are very few people around. Craven hustles me down to the bowels of the ship where there are two identical, small, stuffy rooms, not much larger than closets. He throws open one door, says, “Stay put,” and slams the door shut behind me. His footsteps echo in the quiet as he marches away.
My stomach rumbles. There’s been no mention of anything to eat. No surprise. I didn’t expect food.
I flop down on the bunk, my head nearly touching the wall. “Hey, Ames.” I keep my voice low.
“Joel! Where have you been?”
My sister and I were purchased to check for oil leaks eight months ago. We’ve been on board ever since, though we’re forbidden to spend time together, unless we’re working. We have adjacent rooms, or cells to be more precise. In that time, we’ve knocked a tiny hole in the wall beneath the cots that allows us to talk back and forth.
“Craven took me back to the lab for my six-month check.”
“Any new dolphs there?” Her voice has a muffled, hollow sound to it.
“Yeah. We need to talk, Ames.”
“That’s what we’re doing.”
“Very funny. I mean face to face.”
“Well, we could try it. Craven doesn’t lock the doors.”
“Yeah, arrogant S.O.B. He probably figures he’d pick up any movement we made on the tracker. But he’s got to sleep sometime. Give it a couple of hours and I’ll meet you in front of your door.”
“Okay.”
Silence follows. Is she sleeping? I can’t. I prowl the narrow confines of my cabin for two hours, forming a plan. When my watch shows two, I go to the door and give it a cautious twist. Nothing happens. I shake it. It holds. The bastard’s locked it. I wonder if Amy’s is locked as well.
Beads of cold sweat pop out my pores. It would be so easy to leave us here to die. This section of the ship is almost never used. No one would even know we were here until someone smelled our rotting corpses. Get a grip. Ziccon would never let that happen. They’ve invested too much money. Between Amy and me, we’ve saved them millions finding oil leaks and potential leaks.
I take a quick tour of my room, but I have nothing to pick the lock, not so much as a loose paper clip. I punch my palm in frustration.
“Joel?”
I walk to my cot and sit down. “Hey, Ames. You’re awake.”
“I’m locked in.” Even through the wall, her voice sounds forlorn.
The muscles across my shoulders tighten. I force myself to relax. “Me, too. Let’s figure out how to get out of here.”
“Permanently?”
I hear hope in her voice.
“Soon. Right now we need to get to the computer lab.”
“How?”
“Good question.” I lean against the cool wall and look around my tiny cubicle. Besides the cot, there’s a tiny chest of drawers, a commode, a small sin
k and a shower that I can barely turn around in. Amy’s mirrors mine.
“I don’t suppose you have a paper clip?”
“No.”
“I know you don’t have a credit card.”
She snorts. “Good one.”
“Yeah.” At least she hasn’t lost her sense of humor.
“A pen?”
“No. Wait. Maybe.”
I straighten as hope rises.
“Yes. I do.”
“Does it have a cap?”
“Yeah.”
“Yes.” I punch the air. “We’re in business. Take the metal clip off the pen cap.”
“Okay.”
“Put the metal holder into the lock and push.”
Silence follows. Then she says, “Nothing happened.”
“Did you turn the lock clockwise?”
“You didn’t mention that.”
A chuckle rumbles in my throat. “You’re right. I didn’t. Try it again.”
A few moments later, my door opens.
I jump up. “Good girl.”
She hands me the metal holder.
I slip it into a corner of my top drawer. “Never know when we’ll need that again. Let’s go to the computer lab.” We walk quietly down the dimly lit hall, our shadows thrown in front of us along the wall.
“What’s up?”
I put my finger over my mouth. Even though it’s the wee hours, you never know when someone might be roaming the ship. Amy and I are a well-kept secret. We’ve been spotted occasionally, but what we’re doing on board has never been explained to the crew, at least, to my knowledge.
When we finally reach the computer room, I crack the door a hair and peek inside. Crap. Someone’s using one of the computers. I stealthily shut the door and motion Amy back into the shadows. By now, it’s three. I’ll give it one more hour and if they don’t leave, we’ll have to pack it in for the night.