Touching Darkness

by Jaime Rush

“And you’re all scratched up.” Petra, he realized, was studying him. “I’ll get some ice for Eric and antiseptic for you.”

  “It’s okay.” But she was already heading off on her mission. He looked down and saw the scratches on his arms. His face, no doubt, looked as bad. “I had a run-in with some hedges.”

  Rand said, “We’ve all had run-ins, dude. My face was black-and-blue for a while.”

  Amy surveyed Nicholas. “They’re not bad, but you do need them cleaned.” She was shorter than the other two women, with a head of frizzy, dark blond hair. Not her natural color, if the pictures he’d seen were any indication. “Want something to drink? Water? Beer?”

  “Water would be great.” His throat was sand dry. “I can get it—”

  “You sit.” She walked into the kitchen.

  It was odd being waited on. He was used to taking care of himself.

  Petra handed Eric a bag of ice and went down the hallway, returning with some cotton balls and a bottle of hydrogen peroxide. She waved toward one of the dining chairs. “Sit. Hopefully it won’t hurt much.”

  “You must be the healer.”

  Her eyebrows arched. “How did you know?”

  “Because of what you’re doing.”

  “I can’t do the psychic kind of healing too much.” She placed her hand over one of the scratches on his forearm, closed her eyes, and took several deep breaths. The others wandered over, except for Eric, who remained by the door, his body rigid.

  When Petra removed her hand, the scratch was gone.

  “That’s amazing.” Nicholas nodded to where she was rubbing her forearm in the place the scratch had been on his. “You take on the injury?”

  “Yeah, something like that. I’ve never done a small wound before.”

  She started to place her hand over another one, but he stilled her. “It’s okay. They’re not worth your feeling my pain. But thanks, anyway.”

  She continued treating the rest of his scratches the conventional way.

  These people were amazing. He could see why they had survived. As Lucas said, they looked out for each other. But he wasn’t one of them yet. To be, he would have to give up the estate’s location—and put Olivia at risk.

  CHAPTER 15

  Gerard sat in front of the grand fireplace in the parlor and tossed another red folder into the flames. He had suffered another loss tonight. The dark side was winning. The anger ate away at him just as the fire incinerated the cardboard. If only he had the ability to kill from a distance, to find someone no matter where they were. His mouth tightened in bitterness. He had to believe he would prevail. Jerryl was eager to begin targeting someone other than Eric. And then there was Andrus…

  “Are you all right?”

  Olivia’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. Wearing silk pajamas beneath a robe, she looked beautiful but for the shadows in her eyes.

  “You’re up late. It’s what, two in the morning?”

  “Had a bad dream.” She wrapped her arms around herself. He had seen her do that when she was a girl and had woken him in the night. He’d been woefully inadequate in consoling a child scared of something that wasn’t real. He’d told her to toughen up and go back to bed.

  She stepped closer and looked at the folder in his hand: Robert Braden’s folder. “What are you doing?”

  “Now that Nicholas is a traitor, the Rogues will know about these files. They’ll do whatever it takes to get them. I’m going to ensure their safety.” He tossed the folder in the fire, and the flames flared.

  He hated destroying the files. They contained the original notes from the first program and weren’t on any computer. He didn’t trust computers, not even encrypted ones. He knew there were ways to decipher anything. He had relented and put the basic information on the new program on the computer and backed it up to his home computer. But this data would only exist in his head.

  She sat down on the wingback chair opposite him. “Did his father work with you twenty-five years ago?”

  Gerard wanted to give her only enough information to sate her curiosity. “Yes. We had great success, as we’re having now. Then someone sabotaged the program, and it fell apart.” He gritted his teeth. “But not this time.”

  “Why did Nicholas want that file so badly?”

  “Because the Rogues told him to get it, probably to get all of them.” He tossed the next folder into the fire.

  “What happened to Robbins? I overheard Jerryl telling Fonda he’d been…the word he used was whacked. How could he know that?”

  His mouth tightened. “We know.”

  She paused for a moment, absorbing that. “He also said something about remote-viewing. What is that?”

  She wasn’t ready for the truth.

  “There are things you mustn’t see or know, things that would change everything forever, that would age you by decades and tarnish your golden light. I have spent my life protecting you from that and more.”

  He’d said this to her before, about other things, like her infatuation with the gardener’s son. Usually she accepted it.

  “What if I don’t want to be protected?”

  “You have no choice in the matter.” He narrowed his eyes, studying what he thought was a shadow on her shoulder. “Is that a bruise?”

  Her robe had slid off her shoulder, and she pulled it up again. “I wasn’t paying attention and rammed into the doorframe.”

  He’d seen other bruises on her. If she’d been dating someone, he would suspect abuse. “What was the point of signing you up for ballet and gymnastics, if not to teach you coordination?”

  “Don’t sidetrack me. I want the truth. You’re going to have Nicholas killed, aren’t you?”

  “They all have to be terminated. They’re a security and safety risk.” He was annoyed to see her attachment to Braden on her expression.

  She stood, hands fisted at her sides. “You can’t kill him.”

  “Why not?”

  Her mouth trembled. “I couldn’t bear it. Have him arrested instead.”

  “Get it through your head: If I don’t kill them, they’ll kill me. Could you bear that?”

  Her face blanched. It gratified him that the thought of his being killed seemed to terrify her.

  “It’s imperative you report anything out of the ordinary. It may seem odd or ridiculous, but if you notice it, there might be something more to it. Trust your instincts, just as I’ve taught you since you were a girl. Be on alert. And until they are eliminated, I want you to move into your suite of rooms here full-time.”

  “But—”

  “No buts. I want you safe. I’ll be here, too.” He sent another folder into the fire. “I’m flying to Florida tomorrow. I’m appearing in court to take custody of a prisoner. He’s going to be working with us for about four months.”

  “A prisoner? What kind of prisoner? What did he do?”

  “He’ll be under guard at all times. You will have no contact with him. In fact, I don’t even want him to see you. He’s quite charming, from what I’ve heard. Until he gets his hands around your neck. Don’t be taken in by another one of our subjects. Especially this one.”

  Her mouth twitched in anger. “I’ll heed your warning, Father. Good night.”

  Robbins also deserved his lesson. The search of his house had revealed that he, too, had gotten into these folders. He’d drafted a letter to Gerard, threatening to expose DARK MATTER if he disappeared. Fortunately, Robbins hadn’t had time to set his plan into action. The copies were in an envelope with an attorney’s name on it, and a note in Robbins’s calendar indicated that his appointment was for the following day.

  He threw the last folder into the flames. The past was over. All he cared about was the future. With Andrus aboard, the Rogues would finally be destroyed.

  Fonda scowled at Petra Aruda’s picture on the bulletin board above Jerryl’s desk next to Eric’s. “What’s her picture doing in your room?”

  Jerryl smiled at the jealousy in her voice.
“I’ve always had a connection to her. She was the first one I could find. Then I tuned in to Eric and was able to mind-control him. So I focused on him. But I realized, what better way to get to Eric than taking her out?” He grinned wider. “I like the thought of him going berserk.”

  She was still looking at the picture. “She’s beautiful.”

  He pinched her chin. “So are you.”

  “Not like her. Not like anyone, really.”

  He knew she’d had a hard childhood, but she hadn’t talked much about it. She’d been drawn to him, and to his anger. He seemed to ignite it in her, allowing her to release it for the first time. Once she’d told him she was afraid to let it out, that it might consume her. She allowed those pent-up emotions out when they had sex, as though the act freed her somehow.

  “What about the shield?” she asked.

  “I’ve been thinking. You know how Gerard said Lucas and Amy had a psychic connection? That’s how he knew when she was in trouble. What if I have that same kind of thing with Petra? Maybe I can get to her even if she’s protected by the shield. I can’t remote-view her, but maybe I can get under the shield to her head.” He kissed her forehead. “Which means you’ll have to sleep in your own room tonight. No distractions.”

  She never begged or whined. Despite her hurt expression, she simply left.

  He settled into bed and looked at the picture of Petra. He filled his mind with her, so intensely his head hurt. For a second, he felt…something. Feminine energy. He could feel her, just like he could with Eric. He couldn’t hold on to it, though. Maybe it was the shield or maybe it was that he’d already used his skills tonight and was too tired, but he lost the connection.

  He would try again tomorrow.

  Nicholas woke with a start, breath coming hard, other parts of him hard, too. He’d been dreaming of Olivia, kissing her, touching her, and just as he was about to slide into the warmth of her body, he’d woken. He sat up, rubbing his face.

  She hates me now.

  The thought hung in the dark, cool air of the room that was temporarily his. He was on the lower level of what he now knew was a bomb shelter. Zoe and Rand shared the room next door.

  Forget about kissing Olivia or doing anything else. All he could do was keep her safe. She was the enemy to the Rogues, but he’d never see her that way. Her loyalty stood firmly with Darkwell, with her family; her self-worth was tied to her heritage. But he’d also seen the conflict on her face. She sure as hell hadn’t wanted to alert her father to his presence in his office.

  He dropped back in the bed, letting out a long sigh of frustration. They were a lost cause. So why was he dreaming about her?

  The idea crept into his mind, as quietly and cleverly as a snake. He could check on her. She’d be torn up, angry, probably lots of things. He’d just make sure she was sleeping tight.

  He focused on her beautiful face, her delicate beauty, her smile, hell, she had such a gorgeous smile that started small, then bloomed, filling her hazel eyes. And the wonder that filled her eyes when he’d first kissed her. She was shy and sweet, so outrageously sweet. She had definitely been overprotected, and damn, but he wanted to show her what being made love to felt like.

  There’s no point in checking on her. What good is it going to do?

  So he wasn’t going there.

  He shifted in bed, resettling on the soft mattress.

  Yes, he was.

  He sank into her, smelling her candy-sweet perfume, feeling the silk of her long hair, zoning in on her until he felt his body disappear. Then the whoosh in his stomach. A similar sensation to what he felt when he’d kissed her, he realized. His body twitched.

  He expected to find her sleeping, so he was surprised to see her stalking angrily up the stairs.

  I thought you were only going to check on her. You have. You’ve torn her up. There’s nothing more to do but thrash yourself later.

  He couldn’t pull out. She walked into her room and let her robe drop to the floor, revealing white silk pajamas with thin straps over her shoulders. On one shoulder, he could see a shadow, dark as a bruise. She leaned against the French doors for a minute, pressing her forehead against the glass, her breath creating a foggy circle. She pushed away and started unbuttoning her top. Her fingers trailed inside the edge of her top, brushing against the curve of her cleavage as she continued undoing the buttons.

  Time to get out. It’s not right, spying on her like this.

  She reached the last button and turned as she slipped out of it and tossed it to the chair. The moonlight shone through the part in the curtains, washing over her back and the dimples on either side of her spine. Her long hair fanned across her skin as she bent over and began to slide down her pajama bottoms. Black lace covered an ass so exquisitely shaped, so perfectly rounded, that his hard-on ached with throbbing.

  She started to turn around.

  Don’t be a jerk.

  He pulled out and threw himself out of bed. “Hell.” He paced the small room, thinking of anything that would push those erotic images from his mind and punish him for lingering longer than he should have. He pressed his palms against the concrete wall and banged his forehead against it.

  He could never have her, not now. All he could do was make sure she was safe until his death. It would come soon.

  CHAPTER 16

  Nicholas cooked everyone breakfast. Amy and Lucas had been in the office when he’d come up. They emerged, looking as though they had just read a funeral announcement.

  “What’s wrong?” Petra asked as she poured orange juice into glasses.

  Amy took them all in. “Lucas and I had our DNA tested. There was a chance we were related, and we’d ordered the test before we found out we weren’t. We just got the results.”

  Lucas held up the report he’d obviously printed. “There’s an explanation of DNA, in simple terms. A strand of DNA is made up of building blocks, and there are only four of them: A, T, G, and C. The guy who wrote this says our samples were obviously contaminated, because they contain a fifth block. He’s never seen anything like it.” His gray-blue eyes were dark with fear.

  “The Booster.” Dread filled Amy’s voice. “It changed our DNA.”

  The sizzling bacon, the others, everything else fell away for a moment. Changed their DNA. Nicholas lifted his hand, turned it palm up. It looked the same as before, but now he saw it differently. By the silence, the others were absorbing this truth, too. “What the hell could change our DNA?”

  Amy’s eyes were wide as she shook her head. “I don’t know. But it can’t be good.”

  “What do we do about it?” Petra asked.

  Amy’s shoulders stiffened. “We find Wallace and make him tell us what it is.”

  Nicholas set down a large plate of scrambled eggs in the middle of the table. “Richard Wallace?”

  They all jerked their heads to Nicholas, who said, “Darkwell asked me to find him.”

  Amy put her hand to her throat. “Did you?”

  “No. I was getting uncomfortable by then, so I pretended I’d encountered the same kind of block that protects this place.”

  “You had good instincts,” Amy said. “He’s the man who invented the Booster, the only one who might be able to tell us what’s in it. How does Darkwell know Wallace is still alive?”

  Eric shook his head. “No way can we approach him now that he’s being targeted by Darkwell.”

  Lucas nodded in agreement.

  Amy looked crestfallen.

  Eric slumped in his chair, a surly look on his face. “So back to Darkwell. We go in, get those files, and kill everybody.”

  He had as much bloodlust as Nicholas had seen in Jerryl’s eyes.

  “And get yourself killed in the process,” Nicholas said. “You think Darkwell hasn’t upped the security suspecting I’ll tell you where he is?”

  Eric’s mouth turned up in a snarl. “Which you haven’t.”

  “The last time I gave you a location, a man was killed.�
� He looked at Lucas. “I know you didn’t intend for that to happen, but it did. I need to be sure you’re not going to storm the place and kill innocents.” Of course, Olivia’s face flashed in his mind. “I agree we need to take out Jerryl and Darkwell. Get rid of them, and the program goes away.”

  If Darkwell was killed, Olivia would lose her father. She’d be devastated.

  Amy had just stuffed a forkful of eggs into her mouth, and she talked around it. “He’s right. The CIA doesn’t know what’s going on.” She swallowed. “If they find out, they’ll bury it, like they buried the first one.”

  Eric set his fork down on his plate with a loud tap. “They’ll find out about us, though. They’re sure as hell not going to want us out here knowing the truth.”

  Lucas said, “The only way they’ll find out about us is if they look at Darkwell’s files if they can even find them. They’ll probably think he was nuts. Wouldn’t you? Besides, they don’t have the resources to investigate this kind of craziness.”

  Zoe’s eyes widened. “Does that mean we’d be able to return to our lives? I could go back to my tattoo shop?” Her hopeful expression crumpled. “Except I’m wanted for dealing drugs.” She looked at Nicholas. “Darkwell planted drugs in my apartment and tipped off the police. He figured they’d find me, then he’d swoop in and take me into custody. I’ve never even done drugs, and now everyone thinks I’m a dealer.”

  Rand rubbed her back. “The people who matter don’t think that.”

  Amy turned to Lucas. “You can run your art gallery. I can be the Disc Angel who restores data from damaged hard drives.” She rubbed her hands together at the thought. “Petra, you can—”

  “I don’t want to be a Hooters waitress anymore. I want to be a massage therapist. I want to heal people the normal way.”

  Eric picked up his fork. “I’m wanted for arson. Can’t undo that, either.”

  Arson. Fire. Nicholas shivered. “The police think I’m involved in some kind of drug deal gone bad, but they don’t have any proof. Yet.”

  Lucas sat back in his chair. “So it’s agreed. We take out the enemy, no one else, unless necessary.”