Heroes in Uniform: Soldiers, SEALs, Spies, Rangers and Cops: Sexy Hot Contemporary Alpha Heroes From NY Times and USA Today Bestselling Authors

by Sharon Hamilton

  He wished he had used such restraint earlier, still berating himself for what had happened with Caterina.

  “You’ll need to keep this dry for twenty-four hours.”

  “Damn, there goes that bubble bath I had planned on taking,” he teased, but it failed to bring a smile to his sister’s face.

  “You okay?” he asked, worried at the troubled look in her deep emerald eyes. He was sorry that he might have placed it there.

  “Okay? You want to know if I’m okay.”

  With jerky motions she cleaned up the materials she had used for the sutures and stalked across the kitchen to toss them away. Rounding on him, she jammed her hands on her hips. “You’re hurt. Someone named Mad Dog is after you and Caterina. And speaking of Caterina, what are you going to do with her?”

  “I got the inhibitor. Several vials of the medication are in my satchel.” He jerked his hand in the direction of the worn black bag resting on one of the kitchen chairs.

  She walked to the chair, picked up the canvas bag, and removed a handful of the vials. Weighing them carefully in her hand, she said, “Based on the dosages indicated in her medical file, these should last for some time. Certainly long enough for you to figure out why someone wants her dead.”

  The relief on his sister’s face was incomplete. “Something else is bothering you.”

  She placed the vials on the table, and then removed the rest from the satchel. As she did so, he noticed the bare spot on her ring finger.

  “You broke it off with Harrison.”

  Nodding, she replied, “He didn’t take it well.”

  He rose from the chair, flinching at the ache in his ribs as he stood. Mad Dog hadn’t broken them, but it still hurt like hell. He closed the distance between them and laid his hands on his sister’s shoulders. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t hurt you.”

  She shrugged off his hands. “You’ll protect me. And Caterina.”

  She whirled on him and laid a hand on the middle of his chest. “Mom and dad. Tony. You’ll take care of all of us.”

  She shoved his chest hard enough to make him recoil, tender as the area was thanks to the blows from Mad Dog.

  “Who will take care of you, big bro?”

  Apparently recognizing that her question had no answer, she grabbed one of the vials and her medical bag, and stormed out of the kitchen. He heard the heavy thump of her footsteps on the stairs, a testament to her anger.

  He could have followed to try and reassure her he had things under control, but opted to give her time to cool down. Since Liliana had once again brought home food from the family restaurant, he placed the take-out dishes in the oven. While he welcomed the food, he worried it came with a very large price tag – a visit from their mother.

  She was bound to be wondering about what was happening with him and why Liliana was involved in it.

  When the food was in the oven and the kitchen table was set, he took a steadying breath and headed upstairs.

  Caterina was sitting on the edge of the bed. Liliana was perched across from her in the recliner. His sister had a syringe in her hand which she had plunged into the vial he had taken from Wardwell’s lab. As he walked in Liliana said, “I’m using the dosage indicated in the file.”

  Liliana pulled the syringe from the vial and in a fluid move, swapped the vial for the rubber hose sitting on the nightstand. She wrapped the hose around Caterina’s bicep, tapped her arm for a vein, and then injected her with the medication.

  Caterina jerked as she did so, prompting Liliana to say, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  Caterina shook her head. “It’s not you. It’s burning.”

  “That happens with some medications,” he explained and walked into the room.

  As he did so, Caterina looked up at him and offered a brave smile. “Thank you for getting the medicine.”

  “Hopefully it’ll keep things under control until we can find out what really happened to Wells.”

  Liliana withdrew the syringe, placed a band aid over the injection site, and urged Caterina to bend her arm to apply pressure.

  Once she did so, Caterina said, “I can help you with the investigations now.”

  “Maybe if the meds work, but first it would help if you could try to remember more about what happened that night,” Mick said.

  Caterina nodded. “I’ll try. Only every time I do . . . ” She shrugged and wrapped her free arm around her waist. “There’s always blood. Lots of it. All over Dr. Wells and me.”

  He nodded and sat down on the edge of the bed beside her. She averted her gaze, looking away, but he tucked his thumb and forefinger beneath her chin and urged her gaze back to his.

  “You need to get past that to try and remember what happened before. To get to the moment when Wells was killed.”

  Caterina nodded. “I’ll try.”

  He brushed away some stray unruly locks from her face, resisting the temptation to stroke the soft, thick hair. “You can try later. Liliana was kind enough to bring dinner again and I suspect you’re hungry.”

  Caterina smiled and it caused a funny hitch in the middle of his chest. “I thought I smelled something tasty.”

  “Let’s go get some eats then,” Liliana said and rose from the chair, but as she did so, his sister shot him a bemused look, clearly aware that something had happened between them.

  Despite that, Liliana said nothing, only led the way down to the kitchen and the food she had brought.

  * * *

  With dinner over and the two women sharing an easy conversation as they cleaned up, Mick had felt driven from the kitchen, unable to stand the way the two chatted about everyday things, seemingly without a care to the danger which existed. He had not wanted to burst their fragile bubble with the reality that so far he had nothing to prove that Caterina wasn’t a murderess. But worse, he also couldn’t abide the sense of homecoming he felt sitting at the table with them.

  He had long ago given up on the possibility of having a real home of his own.

  Locking himself away in his office, he spent the night perusing the Internet for information on Edwards and Wardwell Biotech and discovered more than he had expected.

  News from various science sites had confirmed that Wardwell was a leader in developing a number of different fluorescent proteins for use in various applications as well as an innovator in the field of gene therapies. Much had been made of one of their early experiments where they had successfully regenerated nerve tissue using genes spliced from an amphibian.

  That would explain Liliana’s comments at dinner about the test results reported by her pathologist friend.

  As he sat back, he realized that advances from that simple success might account for the restoration of Caterina’s sight, but confusion remained about the strange halo sight and skin camo she was displaying.

  Why implant even more genes to create a human chimera? he thought. Especially one half out of her mind from a powerful combo of dissociative drugs unless . . .

  MK Ultra, he thought once again, returning to the CIA experiments with mind control. If Edwards thought he could create chimeras with useful traits and under his power, those altered beings could be quite useful and profitable.

  Only nothing in any of the news articles supported such a crazy hypothesis, he thought, leaned over the keyboard, and continued searching.

  By the end of the night, Liliana had been called back to the hospital for an emergency and he had unearthed a small article off a financial news site.

  Edwards had recently met with the head of Gates Genengineering, a larger biotech company whose new drug application had suffered a rejection from the FDA. The NDA was for a therapy similar to the Wardwell process used on Caterina. The article mentioned possible discussions of a merger. Given the size of the other company, a merger might be worth tens of millions to the Wardwell owners.

  Of course if anyone got wind of what Edwards and his researchers had done to people like Caterina and those unfortunates with th
e “Terminated” stickers, no one would touch the company. In fact, they would be lucky not to end up in jail for the rest of their lives.

  If Wells had somehow developed a conscience and had been about to blow the whistle on the entire experiment, it made perfect sense as to why Edwards would want him dead.

  It also made sense why Edwards would hire not one but three mercenaries to go after Caterina. He couldn’t take the risk that she would expose what had happened and ruin the multi-million dollar merger.

  To prove motive, however, he had to confirm that the merger was actually proceeding. Opening his e-mail program, he right-clicked on one of the e-mails from Edwards and checked the message header. Buried in the header was the IP address for Wardwell’s system. Launching a hacking program a friend had provided years ago, the system started searching for open ports and found several of them in the firewall.

  He used one of the open ports, accessed the Wardwell system, and hoped that someone in IT had been lazy and left at least one of the servers with the default settings. Sure enough, one server still had the no password default. Shortly after, he entered the Wardwell servers. He didn’t want to linger long, afraid that someone might eventually catch on to his break-in.

  He started a search of “Gates” and within just a few short minutes had located a Word document on the server. Better yet, it was in a directory that appeared to belong to Edwards. He quickly downloaded the document and exited.

  When he opened the document, it confirmed the merger had progressed substantially.

  Gates Genenigeering had made an offer of 100 million dollars to acquire Wardwell. With that much money at stake, there was no doubt about the motive for Wells’ murder.

  He had to warn Franklin.

  He dialed his friend who immediately answered.

  “I’ve got some information and you’re not going to like it,” he said and explained about the merger.

  “I’m liking this less and less every day, Mick. I’ve got a family now,” Franklin said and for the first time ever, Mick heard something in his friend’s tone that he had never expected to hear.

  Real fear. The kind that grabbed hold of your gut and made you doubt. Even a scintilla of doubt on a mission was not good.

  “I understand, Franklin. So here’s what I want you to do.”

  Sins of the Flesh: Chapter Twenty-Three

  Mick provided his friend with the basic details about the merger and asked him to try and track down more information as to when it might be occurring. Then he gave him the names and addresses of the two “Terminated” patients whose files he had stolen. He needed to know more about what their families had been told about their progress and deaths.

  “What about Donnelly?” Franklin asked, concern resonating in the tones of his voice.

  What about Mad Dog? Mick thought, recalling his earlier encounter with the man. At his hesitation, Franklin prompted him again for an answer and he said, “Whatever happens with Mad Dog won’t involve you. I promise you that. It’ll be between him and me.”

  Because they had a score to settle.

  “Thanks, Mick. I’ve got too much to lose,” his friend said and hung up.

  He swiped the phone to end the call, Franklin’s last words digging into his brain.

  “I’ve got too much to lose”, but Mick had little if nothing to lose.

  He rose, intent on checking on his captive, when he heard the insistent beep-beep-beep of the alarm system signaling that someone had opened a point of entry into the house.

  He rushed to the guest room, hoping it hadn’t been Caterina, but she was gone.

  Cursing, he grabbed the stair railing, vaulted down to the middle of the stairs, then up and over the handrail to the next level. He landed on the wooden floor with enough force to rattle the minimalist accessories on the nearby furniture.

  Ahead of him the kitchen door leading to the backyard was wide open.

  He ran toward the door and the cell phone at his hip began to buzz.

  A message flashed, alerting him to the fact that Caterina had breached the designated perimeter for the ankle bracelet she was wearing.

  He rushed outside, believing he would have to give chase as she ran off the property, but instead he watched as she executed a graceful dive into the built-in pool in the backyard.

  Shocked, he was about to go after her when the house alarm increased in pitch, alerting him to the fact it would soon trip and dispatch instructions to the central station.

  Since Caterina didn’t seem to be going anywhere and he didn’t need the police coming to check out the call from the central station, he returned inside and shut off the alarm. He answered his phone when it rang a second later.

  “I got a warning here at the station about the ankle bracelet. Do I need to send in the troops?” Ramon asked.

  Mick walked toward the edge of the pool where Caterina was treading water in the center, her arms wrapped tight around herself, shivering. The violent chattering of her teeth was visible even with the long distance.

  Something was wrong, but it was nothing that needed to involve Ramon.

  “No, Ramon. Everything is under control here,” he said, but as Caterina’s skin faded away to the bright blue of the pool lining, nothing could have been farther from the truth.

  Mick walked to the edge of the pool and crouched down, meeting her gaze. The reflection from the pool water had made it an almost iridescent aqua. Her skin was increasingly taken on the intense hue as well.

  “What are you doing?” he said.

  “Hot . . . burning up,” she replied and slowly sank beneath the surface of the water.

  Shit, he thought. Liliana would be pissed as all hell if he let Caterina drown on his watch.

  He quickly yanked off his shirt, pants, and shoes, placed his cell phone within easy reach on the pool deck, and dove in.

  With one powerful stroke he reached her.

  Wrapping his arms around her body, he dragged her to the surface where they both gulped in a big breath of air.

  To his surprise, she laid her head on his shoulder and once again said, “I’m burning up.”

  She was. Even with the cool waters of the pool surrounding them, heat poured off her skin. Her body shivered against his with brutal force, her teeth rattling together until with each second that passed, the chill of the waters penetrated her body and brought some relief.

  Relief from the fever racking her body didn’t bring an end to the transformation of her skin. Luckily the high fence surrounding the property offered some privacy for the moment, but not much.

  Anyone with a second story window or balcony facing their way would get a good glimpse once they left the water. He had to get her to restore more of her human state before they returned to the house.

  He raised his hand and ran it across the slick strands of her hair in a soothing gesture. Bringing his lips close to the shell of her ear, he whispered, “Are you feeling better?”

  She nodded and finally relaxed a bit, releasing the tight hold she’d had on her own body to wrap her arms around him.

  So not good, he thought at the soft press of her very womanly body against his.

  Think baseball, he said to himself as he cupped her cheek and urged her to lift her head. When she did so, he said, “I need you to lose the camo, Cat.”

  Realization sank in as she shot a quick glance at her arms.

  She screwed her eyes shut and beneath her breath began her mantra. Her lips barely moved as she said, “Focus. Focus. Focus.”

  He braced one hand in the middle of her back and joined in the mantra, only it distracted him from safe thoughts of baseball and brought home to Caterina the natural reaction his body was having to her proximity.

  “Focus,” she said, more loudly and opened her eyes.

  They were back to normal, not that you could ever call eyes that blue and beautiful normal.

  She bit her bottom lip, worrying it with her teeth as she raised one hand to steady herself aga
inst his shoulder.

  The movement only pressed them closer together and revealed another truth – he was not the only one aroused.

  The pebbly hard tip of her nipples bored holes into his chest and he would have had to be a saint not to touch.

  He was no saint, but somehow restrained himself thereby possibly earning sainthood.

  He cupped her cheek, leaned his head close, and asked, “Do you feel well enough to go back into the house?”

  * * *

  Caterina focused on his warm breath and the hard palm of his hand against her skin. She closed her eyes and imagined it was a lover’s touch. A touch that begged for sweet compensation in return.

  Opening her eyes, she inched toward him until her lips almost brushed his and whispered, “Yes.”

  His breath hitched in his chest and against her body, his erection jumped in answer. He applied gentle pressure and urged her face upward as she acquiesced to that demand.

  Human demand.

  The call of male to female somehow reaffirming that she was still a woman. Still so much more than someone’s lab rat.

  When she raised her head, he was bending toward her. He paused as his lips skimmed against hers, the warm spill of his breath enticing her to savor his mouth.

  She touched her lips to his, telling herself to focus on them. On him. On the pleasure his touch brought her.

  * * *

  Mick groaned at her consent, certain that it was insanity and yet he couldn’t stop kissing her.

  She brought both hands to his shoulders. They were still hot against his skin, but not as hot as before. But way more hot than was right and he knew that as good as this felt and as much as he wanted to part her thighs and drive himself into her, honor demanded that he stop.

  Easing himself away, but keeping a steadying grasp on her, he said, “We need to get you back inside. Make sure you’re okay.”

  Puzzlement traveled across her features followed by confusion and possibly disappointment. “You don’t want me?”