by Nana Malone
Reluctant Protector
The Protectors Series
Book One
by
Nana Malone
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Reluctant Protector
COPYRIGHT © 2012 by Nana Malone
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Cover Art by Kimberly Killion
Edited by Mystical Press
Published in the United States of America
Dedication
To my loving husband, Erik, and my beautifully brilliant daughter, Siaki. I love you both more than I can ever express. Thank you for giving me the family I have always dreamed of.
To my mentor, sister, friend, Misty Fanderclai, thank you doesn’t even begin to cover it. I maintain that I would never have made it here without you. Cheers (with a fabulous cocktail) to the next step in our journey to Louboutins and St. Tropez.
To Tendayi, Megan, Marcie, Fritz, Derrick, Naardy Doo, and Cyn. Your unending support is the reason I have the courage to fly off this cliff of writing madness without thinking twice. I love you.
To Mom, Daddy and Nortey, thank you for showing me what true courage actually looks like. I’m proud of you all.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Epilogue
Other Books by Nana Malone
About Nana Malone
Chapter One
Frigid cold settled into Cassie Reeser’s bones. She lost track of how long she’d been in her brother’s Sensory Chamber. More than three days certainly. Maybe a week. Maybe more. Peter never ceased dreaming up ways to punish her. The acrid smell of antiseptic filled her nostrils. In her chamber, an elevated stationary palette occupied the center of the room and a commode lurked in the corner. No desk and no light, except for the overhead fluorescents. Not even a blanket. Nice and homey.
Sometimes Peter pumped extreme heat into the chamber. Sometimes extreme cold. Right now the temperature hovered around sixty degrees. But the earlier chill made her mind lethargic and her muscles ache. Usually, to stave off hypothermia, she had to keep moving.
Peter never understood that the more he tried to break her, the more she would fight. Even as she lay on the hard slab of her palette, her muscles were coiled and ready for her next chance at escape. Someone was coming for her.
In the distance, the suction of the air lock reverberated against the barren walls. She wasn’t supposed to hear anything outside the lead-lined chamber, but as usual, her brother underestimated her abilities. If she calmed her mind, she could pinpoint the guards’ voices in the lobby of Gentech Labs. As footsteps and a rapidly thudding heartbeat approached the door to the Sensory Chamber, Cassie closed her eyes. Please don’t let it be Peter.
It was either Peter or one of the Trackers. An involuntary shudder stole up her back. The last time the Trackers came for her, they came armed with Nisulin guns and shot rounds into the chamber before she could fight back. She didn't want a repeat of that experience. The milky green liquid that filled their bullets hurt like hell and stripped her of her powers, but at least they weren’t fatal. But one day, Cassie knew, they’d switch to lead bullets. She had to be long gone before that happened.
The grate of metal on metal of the outside door made her clench her hands into tight fists. Could she fight them today? Was she strong enough? But as light spilled into her chamber, she knew Peter hadn’t come for her. Neither had the Trackers. Instead, the cavalry.
A diminutive redhead shuffled toward Cassie’s metal slab, covered in head-to-toe standard clean room garb down to the little booties over her shoes. She carried a small backpack. When she spoke, her voice was soft, but sure. “Are you ready to get out of here?”
Cassie tried to sit up, but couldn’t without clutching the redhead’s hand for support. “Annabel, what are you doing in here? We’re not supposed to try and break me out for another month.”
The redhead handed Cassie a bottle of water and started pulling clothing from the backpack. “Had to adjust the timeline. Peter’s transferred Jeremy and the others out of this facility. He’s up to something.” She waited patiently while Cassie chugged the water before continuing. “And today, he’s got an interview. They’ve given a reporter access to the private parking area.”
Cassie paused mid-sip and lowered the bottle. If they gave someone access to that lot, she had a shot at escape. That structure was less heavily guarded than the main parking structure. She only had to get through the lobby and two checkpoints. Her heart rate ticked up and she immediately controlled it by taking deep breaths and mentally picturing her heart slowing down its rhythm. She couldn’t waste the adrenaline. She needed every ounce of energy she had.
A twinge of guilt pricked her. “Peter will kill you when he finds out.”
Annabel jutted her chin out as she tossed Cassie a long sleeve grey T-shirt. “I’m not afraid to die. Besides, getting you out, means you can help Jeremy and the others.” Her voice cracked. “I never should have—”
Cassie stopped struggling with the jeans and laid her hand on her friend’s shoulder. “You did what you had to for Jeremy’s sake.” Quietly, she added. “I can hear them in my dreams sometimes. Hear the pain they’re going through.”
Annabel shook her head, sending her russet hair tumbling over her shoulders. “What I’ve done, there’s no forgiving. What I’ve helped do to you, to Jeremy, and the others?”
“You didn’t know. And the moment you found out, you tried to help me. That’s something.”
Annabel didn’t speak again. Instead, she handed Cassie a blonde wig and started pinning up her jet black locks so they would fit underneath.
Wig in place, Cassie hopped to the floor. Her equilibrium was off. The clothes and shoes were foreign on her skin and feet, like her limbs didn’t belong to her. “How do I look?”
Annabel scrutinized her. “Like someone who doesn’t belong in the labs. But I can change that.” She pulled out a lab coat. “This badge is for one of the college interns who doesn’t come on shift until this evening. No one should question you.”
“That should help me get through the lobby.”
“But you have to remember, absolutely no powers. No pushing thoughts, no mind reading, not even the strength or agility stuff. You’re smart enough not to try and heal yourself until you’re somewhere safe. But you’re weak and I don’t know how long you’ll be out on your own. You overuse your powers, hell, use them at all, and you’ll drop like a stone. We can’t afford to have you incapacitated. Do you understand?”
Cassie nodded, only half-listening. Something dark and metallic in the bag glinted under the lab lights. “What’s in there?”
“Water and some provisions.”
Cassie narrowed her eyes and shook her head. “Annabel, I told you I didn’t want guns.”
“You don’t have a choice. Make no mistake. They will come after you. Maybe not for a while, but they will come. And don’t think your brother won’t find new ways
to incapacitate you. The gun is for your protection.”
Cassie reluctantly took the bag. “Thank you for taking this risk. I will pay you back one day.”
“I've watched you defy your brother for five years. I've watched you run from this place time and again.” Then she added, “I'm counting on you to save my son, to save all of the others I hurt with my actions.”
Cassie opened her mouth, and then closed it when Annabel pulled one more item from the bag. “I don’t know where the others are being held, but I took this from the experimentation files.” She held up a flash drive. “I haven’t been able to smuggle it out myself, but there has to be information on here. I know the original files mention a town south of here called Riddenwell.”
Cassie slung the backpack over her shoulder, her agility slowly coming back to her. “Are you sure you won’t come with me? You won’t be safe here. Maybe I should mind push you to forget helping me.”
“Forget it. You need your power. Besides, the memories are long-term now. You’d never get them all. As for coming with you, someone has to stay behind and create a diversion. I can always pretend you worked your magic.”
The two of them moved into the clean area just outside of Cassie’s room. She gritted her teeth at the suctioning. For years, that sound signaled torture. Now it meant freedom. Cassie wrapped her fingers around the strap of the bag. She might not like leaving her friend behind, but this was a gift horse. No need to crank open its jaw and take a peek at its molars. “Your son. I can't guarantee I’ll find him.”
Annabel expelled a slow breath. “I know it's a long shot, but you're my last hope. At least this way, I know I’ve tried everything I can.” Annabel swiped her key card in the main lock. “From here, you're on your own.”
Cassie stepped through the door without a backward glance. Shoulders straight. Eyes level. Look ahead. No one would be able to recognize her. But she had to avoid using her power until absolutely necessary. Sweat slicked her palms and she said a silent prayer to any God she could think of. Luck was on her side. She moved through the brightly lit lobby, complete with eye scanners and armed guards. No one noticed her. And why would they? She looked like one of the anonymous grad students earning slave wages and working long hours to make a name for themselves. All too absorbed in their own daily movements.
As she rounded the corner to the employee area, she allowed herself one backward glance. The resulting collision knocked her onto her butt.
A deep voice said, “Oh, shit. I'm so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going and—”
Cassie blinked up at the man, the cold of the floor seeping through her jeans. Her body tensed when he opened and outstretched hand. Her instincts said to run, but his eyes told her she was safe. Honey-brown and laced with concern, he stared at her.
She patted the wig to make sure it was still in place before taking his proffered hand. Contact with his skin made her jump like she’d just gotten a shock from an appliance. But instead of the immediate wash of senses and thoughts she expected, he barely registered. All she noticed was how his firm, warm hand dwarfed hers.
He looked down at their joined hands before grinning at her. His face lit up, showing just how handsome he was. Like the hero out of a romantic comedy.
Say something before you screw this all up. She cleared her throat. “I'm fine. Not your fault. I wasn't watching where I was going.” Her voice sounded strange in her ears. Husky.
“Are you sure you're okay? You look like you took a hard bump.”
Cassie shifted and tried to step around him. The new guards were coming on shift. Just her luck, one of the two, was the guard who caught her the last time. “No, I’m fine. Really.”
Mr. Romantic Comedy wouldn’t be deterred. He danced with her as she shifted, never letting go of her hand. “Okay, then at least let me apologize for being a klutz. My mother always taught me to take care of a lady. If you won’t at least sit down, maybe I can take you to dinner?” He slapped his forehead. “I should have led with my name. Seth Adams. It’s been a pleasure running into you.”
Cassie’s mouth went slack. His voice flowed over her like warm rain in the summertime. Had he just asked her out? This was a territory completely unfamiliar to her. Luckily, she watched enough movies to understand the concept. “I'm sorry I can't.”
He chuckled and shrugged. “Would it help if I phrased it like journalistic research?” His smile was infectious and Cassie wished she was the young graduate student he thought she was. Dragging in a breath, she knew she had to mind push this conversation out of his memories. Later, when someone came looking for him, she didn’t want him to remember her.
Problem was, as she pushed, she met a brick wall of resistance. The shield around him was like a rubber ball, his brain so dense and slippery nothing could burst through. Pain zinged behind her eyes and reluctantly, she stopped.
“I'm sorry, but no.” Cassie pulled her hand free from his and bee-lined for the exit, never looking back at him. Keep your head in the game Cassie. She joined the queue for the metal detectors and adjusted the hair of the wig around her face. When it came her turn to be searched, she tried to look calm. She didn’t want to take any chances with the guard, so she immediately mind pushed him to do a cursory glance of her backpack.
“You’re free to go Ma’am,” he said, his voice a little dreamy.
She tucked her chin down and mumbled a thank you. Ten more steps. As she rounded the corner to the outer door, someone called out. “Hey, wait a minute.”
For a millisecond, she paused, weighing and tossing out her options. She had to stop. She was weak and tired, but she could push someone if left with no other choice. She didn’t turn heavy when footfalls thudded behind her.
A meaty touched her arm and a small squeak bubbled up without her consent. Was this the end? Had she risked her friend’s life for nothing?
“You dropped your badge back there.”
Cassie had to take the swipe card. If she didn’t, she’d look suspicious. But if she turned, he might recognize her. Rock, meet hard place. Turning on her heel, she reached out with sweat slick hands and snatched the card without meeting the guard’s eye.
His voice was stern. “Security is extremely important here at Gentech. If you need a refresher on security procedures, ask your manager.”
Nodding her acquiescence she turned and kicked up her pace, veering toward the main parking structure. She had to make sure he wasn’t following before she accessed the private parking lot. Three seconds passed before heavy footsteps pounded behind her.
“Hey, what’s your name? Are you new here?” The guard’s lumbering body followed her at a quick clip. Cassie paused and turned around knowing she was cooked. She watched as panic dawned in his eyes.
Make your decision. Fight or flight. She chose fight.
The guard halted. “Girl, you’re looking to make my career. Two captures in six months. Your brother’s going to write me a big check.”
“Not likely.” She stared him down.
Chapter Two
Assholes and opinions. Everyone had one. Right now, Seth Adam’s asshole du jour went by the name of Peter Reeser. The genetics genius was his story of the month and Seth hadn't been able to get him to cooperate. Seth was good with people. They liked talking to him. He had a face that said ‘trust me’ or so his last girlfriend told him. But as he navigated the darkened rain-slick roads of Jacksonville, a sense of failure threaded through his emotions. Peter Reeser had deliberately stonewalled him.
All Seth wanted to do was turn over the story and get started on his much-needed vacation. Since his return from Afghanistan, he’d taken every writing job he could get his hands on to avoid thinking too much. A few days in the Florida Keys would do him good. Some sun, crystal clear water and sand. Except, sand reminded him of the desert, so maybe The Keys weren’t the best vacation spot. And maybe he would stop thinking up elaborate plans that would send him back to that shit pile in the desert.
Not like he could help it, though. He was a war correspondent. That’s where he was most comfortable. Civilian life made him jumpy. Forget it. After what happened on his last assignment, his editor had pulled him home. No more reporting about civil unrest as bombs sounded in the background. This was his life now. Stories on pompous assholes who cultivated polished lies. The sooner he got used to it, the better. He would take the R&R then figure out his next move. Time he put in some personal time, anyway. All he had to do was finish the Reeser article. But something about the man nagged at Seth. He should have known better than to take this last-minute assignment. Like a dog with a marrow-stuffed bone, he wouldn’t be able to let his suspicions about Reeser go until he uncovered the whole story.
He told his editor that he didn’t need the gig. But Marco had been ever persistent. “It's Time Magazine, Seth,” he said. “It's high profile, Seth,” he said. “You need to keep your mind occupied,” he said.
Seth knew better than to listen to Marco, but he’d accepted the job. And now he was walking away with nothing more than what amounted to a fluff piece. There was a story here. Reeser was no brilliant philanthropist looking after his sick sister. Everything about the guy screamed megalomaniacal ass. According to Seth’s sources, Gentech was in bed with Symcore Weapons. But of course Peter denied it.
All Peter did was gloss over his genetics research, throwing around words like ground-breaking, and game-changing, and a whole slew of other big words he thought would impress. But he hadn't actually said anything.
Seth leaned forward and squinted at the highway exit signs trying to get a better view. Leave it to Marco, insisting on some boutique hotel in the middle of nowhere. Two-lane highways were a bitch. Especially when sheets of rain blackened them to pitch and the visibility was about two feet. Add to that a thick, green forest lining each side to the edge and this little road trip felt like a highway to darkened hell.