by C. J. Barry
After careful thought, Hager dialed a number on his BlackBerry and waited. His best tracker picked up on the first ring. “Yeah, boss.”
“Bring Seneca Thomas’s informant.”
“You want him dead or alive?”
Hager poured the wine from the decanter into his glass. “Alive.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Hager hung up and picked up his wineglass. He swirled the red pinot in the light. “Now is the time.”
Seneca rubbed her eyes, trying to coax her body and mind into a sleep schedule that was totally out of whack. Staying in the hotel room with the blinds closed all the time wasn’t helping. She had nothing to ground herself to, no sense of day and night, no touchstone in the chaos that had become her life.
Dr. Franklin and Butch were in custody. XCEL was sweeping the facility for intel. She and Dempsey had slept for a few hours. And now it was late afternoon again. Of what day, she had no idea.
Seneca dialed Noko on her cell phone while Dempsey was in the bathroom. She sat on the hotel bed where they had made love and tried to pretend it didn’t matter. The sucky part was that it did. All her feelings and emotions were in a jumbled mess. Nothing was as it seemed. Nothing was as simple as she’d once thought.
Noko picked up the phone on the third ring. “Hello.”
“Are you safe?” Seneca asked.
“Of course.”
Seneca rubbed her forehead. “Nothing out of the ordinary?”
“Aunt Lavina is adding too much salt to her sauces. Uncle Joe still smokes his pipe and gives Chicklets to all the grandchildren.”
In other words, things were normal. “No one stalking you?”
“Only you.”
“Good.” At least one thing was under control. Noko was safe.
Noko asked, “How is Max?”
Seneca glanced at the bathroom door where the faucet was running. Then her gaze fell to his duffle bag on the floor. Normally he took it in the bathroom with him. In fact, he took it everywhere with him, which was a little odd.
“He’s fine,” she said absently as she got up and walked over to the bag. She leaned over and peeked inside. She shouldn’t pry. On the other hand, even though he’d spilled a lot at the diner, it didn’t mean he was spilling any more. She needed to take more initiative in getting her answers.
“He lied to me about everything,” she said. “About why he joined XCEL, about why he’s working with me.”
Seneca reached down and widened the opening with one hand but still couldn’t see much. Screw it, she was checking the bag. She knelt down, cradled the cell phone on her shoulder, and opened the bag.
“So you feel betrayed,” Noko said.
“Hell, yes,” Seneca replied. She worked through his shirts and jeans and guns. Nothing unusual.
“Perhaps his reasons were personal.”
Her hand hit the bottom of the duffle with a weird sound, like it was hollow. She tapped lightly. Definitely hollow.
“Well, he’s my damned partner so his personal crap affects me too.”
Another hum. “You wouldn’t feel betrayed if you didn’t care for him.”
Seneca slipped her fingers around the bottom and lifted it up. “I care about all my partners. They keep me alive.”
“Not like this. You love him.”
Her fingers wrapped around a small rectangular package and pulled it out. It was a white block of soft claylike plastic wrapped in cellophane and it looked an awful lot like C4 explosive. Enough to take out a few rooms. And whoever was in them.
She couldn’t answer, paralyzed by sudden clarity of what this meant. His entire mission in life was to kill the man who murdered his wife. There was no other future for him, at least not that she’d seen. He didn’t care that his apartment had been trashed; he didn’t have any plans; he didn’t care what XCEL or anyone else thought of him. No dreams. No goals.
Dempsey was going to kill Hager and himself too.
“Seneca?” Noko asked.
“I don’t love him,” she said.
“Are you certain?” Noko asked.
“No,” Seneca whispered. She’d been so concerned about herself, about her country and her people. About everything and everyone she loved and wanted to protect. But his loves meant as much to him as hers did to her. He felt as much pain as any human. He hurt and he suffered, probably more than she would ever know.
Seneca sat back on her heels. But she did know. She’d been there in his mind, felt his agony and his grief. Had seen the only thing that mattered to him dead on the floor. Was she any different than him? Did she not wish every day to find the people who killed her parents? Wouldn’t she give her life for that one moment when she could exact revenge?
“I have to go,” she said to Noko. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” her grandmother replied. “I know you will find your way.”
The phone went dead in her ear. She put it in her pocket and got to her feet.
“Looking for something?” Dempsey asked from behind her.
Yes, but I’m not going to get it, she thought. And neither are you.
Seneca turned around slowly to face him. He was naked without a hint of modesty, and for a moment, she totally forgot what she was thinking. Until his gaze dropped to the C4 in her hand.
“I’m assuming there’s a detonator that goes with this?” she said.
His eyes lifted to hers, and he was not happy.
“How were you going to do it?” she pressed. “Absorb the plastic into your body? Blow up Hager, his thugs, his place?”
“Something like that,” Dempsey said and walked over to take the C4 from her. He set it in the bag and zipped it closed. Then he turned and gave her a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Not that it’s any of your business.”
He crossed the room to where his clothes were laid on the bed.
“Was I part of that plan?” Seneca asked.
“No, and if you have to ask, you don’t know me at all.”
Of course she wasn’t part of it. He was going to use her until he didn’t need her anymore, and then take Hager out by himself.
“Why a bomb? Why not just kill him?”
He pulled on a pair of boxers. “Hager needs to be taken out along with his plan and his minions, or someone else will step in. Shifters are nothing if not opportunistic.”
He’d lost everything he cared about years ago. He would die with Hager, just like he died with Ell and everything else that mattered to him.
“You could do it without killing yourself in the process,” she said. “I can help you.”
“This is personal,” he said, sounding very irritated but honest.
“What about world peace?”
He gave a short laugh. “You, of all people, know that will never happen. Once we’re extinct, you’ll find something else to kill each other for. Shifters won’t change that. They just might speed it up a little.”
His bitterness and his finality left dread in her heart.
“I saw what Hager did to her,” Seneca said. “She was choked to death with the necklace that was in your apartment.”
Dempsey frowned at her. “How do you know that?”
She brushed past his question. “I don’t blame you for hating him. For wanting him dead. But that can’t be your sole purpose in life.”
“It is.” Then he walked into the bathroom and started brushing his teeth. She followed him and leaned against the doorway, trying not to act as scared and helpless as she felt. “There has to be something about this planet that you like.”
He looked at her in the mirror, and she gasped at the intensity. His eyes were heavy and dark, and in them she saw enough sexual energy to set her on fire.
Her? Them? Sex? That was the best he could come up with? Granted, it would be the top of her list too, but was that it? That was the something?
Dempsey finished brushing his teeth and was wiping his face with a towel when she unsnapped her jeans. He heard it
and looked at her. His brow furrowed as she slowly unzipped the jeans and tugged them down over her hips. She wasn’t sure when she’d made the decision, and it was too late to analyze why.
Max didn’t move, the towel motionless in his hand, his eyes on her. Heat rose in her belly, and she slid her hand up her stomach, taking her shirt with it. He watched her as if she were the only thing in the world. And to him, she was. Her and revenge.
Dempsey tossed the towel aside. His breathing had quickened, his body taut, his erection full-on under the shorts.
“Do you know what you’re doing, Seneca?” he rasped.
No, I don’t. But maybe, just maybe I can beat out revenge. She peeled the shirt up over her head. The steam from his recent shower settled over her skin, making it slick under her fingertips as she traced a long line between her breasts. Dempsey stared at her fingers, his lust barely leashed. The man and the beast, that was what she wanted and needed.
She ached all over for him, for what he was and what he’d been through and for the sacrifice he was willing to make. She tossed her shirt to him. He caught it with one hand and brought it to his nose. A growl reverberated through the tiny bathroom as he inhaled her scent.
“No regrets,” he said, his voice rough. “I’m not moving until you say it.”
She half smiled, half laughed with the heady mix of need and power flooding over her. Say it. She couldn’t even think it. Instead, she closed her eyes, slipped her fingers under her panties, and stroked herself, feeling the fullness and throbbing. That was how much she wanted him.
Suddenly, she was grabbed by the arm and spun toward the sink. She opened her eyes as Dempsey yanked her jeans and underwear down to her knees and pushed her against the granite counter. His erection burned her bottom, and in the mirror, his eyes burned her soul.
Her nipples reflected back hard and dark, her skin dewy and blushed. She braced herself against the sink as he reached around and found her clit. She cried out as he rubbed her firmly, expertly.
She was soon lost in the growing wave of ecstasy. She reached up behind her and gripped him by the neck for support as the climax rose, crested, and took complete control of her, making her feel split in two as it imploded. Her body shuddered in the aftermath, leaving her breathless.
Dempsey pressed his mouth to her ear. “Say it.”
He wouldn’t continue if she didn’t. Wouldn’t be tied to her. She had no choice.
“No regrets,” she whispered.
A second later, he was inside her. He wrapped his arm around her waist to hold her to him as he gritted his teeth and drove into her again and again. She felt all his hunger and all his desire. The hurt and the passion. And then she was as lost as he was, gripped by another climax.
The bathroom filled with Dempsey’s final guttural shout and her moan of release. When she recovered, she was lying upon the cool granite. Dempsey leaned over her, using his hands for support, his head down, sucking air.
Seneca looked up at herself in the mirror, her face glowing, but her eyes full of regret. She hoped he didn’t look at her because he’d see the lies and confusion. She’d done it to give him a reason to live; at least that was what she told herself. But what if it didn’t work? What if his loss was too great for her to overcome? If she wasn’t enough?
CHAPTER TWENTY
Max stood on the other side of the glass and watched Seneca interrogate Dr. Franklin. She was playing into Franklin’s demigod mentality and it was working. Her style was persuasive and nonthreatening, and Franklin was chatting away like they were old friends.
Carl came in and sidled up to him. “That was a pretty risky operation you pulled off. I’m glad to see it turned out okay.”
Max eyed his old friend. “It was less risky than you taking over command of this agency. Nice to see you’re still alive.”
Carl chuckled. “That’s because they don’t know what I am. Only you and Seneca do.”
“You can trust her,” Max said.
“I know.”
There was a silent understanding in that statement. Seneca had always been loyal, but she was different now. He’d seen her anger and disgust at the good doctor’s work. It didn’t matter to her that those victims were Shifters. It was still wrong.
“How long do we have before the Committee shuts us down?”
“A few days,” Carl said. “We’re running on a shoestring as it is, moving base operations from location to location to stay one step ahead of Hager’s people. I’m playing it as an operational exercise, but it won’t be long before the Committee figures out that it’s not.”
A few days. It would have to be enough. “What about the other XCEL agencies around the country?”
“They are investigating their cryogenics facilities and making sure no more bodies leak out. I gave that project to the Committee to keep them occupied.”
Carl knew more about the politics of this government than Max ever wanted to understand. “Find anything useful in Dr. Evil’s lab?”
“Just that he was trying to create a formula that negated the effects of UVC light so Shifters could transform in daylight. From what my tech guys say, he was very close,” Carl said. “Lucky you found it when you did.”
Max nodded. “Plus it’ll really tick off Hager.”
Carl gave a sigh. “Imagine if Hager had a hundred Shifters who could shift at will—day or night?”
“XCEL would never be able to handle them all,” Max answered. “The only thing that keeps Shifters from walking around in Primary form during the day is the fear they’ll be destroyed on sight, of not being able to shift back to human to blend in with the locals when threatened. But if that barrier was eliminated—”
Carl finished. “It’d be all-out war.”
“And that’s exactly what Hager wants,” Max said. “This country would be thrown into utter anarchy. He’d terrorize the citizens and destroy this country from the inside out. Then he’d have a chance to grab a piece of it, and eventually, all of it.”
“Sonofabitch,” Carl said.
“Agreed.” Then Max noticed that Seneca was getting upset, and Dr. Franklin’s voice rose.
“You don’t understand,” he was saying. “I am doing important work. No one has ever operated on aliens. Can you not grasp the opportunity we have been given?”
Max watched Seneca lean over the table. “You are experimenting on people, murdering them.”
“They aren’t people,” Dr. Franklin said indignantly. “They are simply another life-form. A new species.”
“Like a new kind of bug?” she said softly.
“Uh-oh,” Max said. He knew that tone.
“Yes,” Dr. Franklin replied, looking pleased that she understood. “Like a new beetle. We must study them to understand how they function, their remarkable ability to control their DNA, their physiology, social structure, sensory and neurological capabilities.”
“Is she going to kill him?” Carl asked.
“Quite possibly,” Max answered. In fact, he was a little surprised that she hadn’t already.
Seneca’s hands curled into fists on the table. “So this is for science?”
“Absolutely,” Dr. Franklin said.
“It didn’t bother you that your sponsor was a Shifter?” she said.
He blinked several times. “Their presence here is being covered up at the highest levels of our government. How else could I get my hands on test subjects?”
With humans like that, who needs Shifter enemies, Max thought.
Seneca tapped her fingers on the table. “But you don’t know your sponsor’s name?”
Dr. Franklin shrugged. “I don’t care.”
Max heard a ring, and Seneca pulled out her cell phone, read it, and frowned. Then she looked at him through the glass, and he knew something bad had happened.
She stood and Dr. Franklin jumped to his feet as she walked toward the door. He said to her, “Is that it? What about my lab? My research notes? Those belong to me.”
<
br /> Seneca stopped and turned to face him. “Oh, yes. There is one more thing.” Then she punched Dr. Franklin in the mouth. He grabbed his face with a scream and dropped like a brick. She leaned over him, and said, “That was for the people you killed, you monster.”
Then she walked out.
Carl looked at Max in utter shock and respect. “Remind me not to piss her off.”
Max smiled for the first time all day. Now that was the woman he knew and loved.
“You really care about her,” Carl added.
Too much. “She’s my partner.”
Carl’s eyebrows rose. “I think she’s a little more than that.”
Much more. Max turned for the door to meet up with her. “She can’t be.”
“Are you sure this is the place Bart wanted to meet?” Dempsey asked her. He was standing next to her in the shadows of abandoned factory buildings in Red Hook.
It was late again—dark, stinky, and bitter cold with the breeze off the bay. Why was it always that way? One of these days, she’d like to try a nine-to-five job with HVAC and donuts. Like normal people.
“This is the address he texted me from his phone,” she told him.
Dempsey studied the cluster of dark buildings surrounding them. He was in human form, but his eyes flashed iridescent as he used his Shifter vision. “Does he always text you?”
“Sometimes. Depends how much he’s had to drink and how coordinated his fingers are. But—”
Dempsey turned and looked at her, and Seneca’s heart beat just a little faster. She liked the way he did that—all intense and serious, and with just enough smolder to let her know he was thinking about her—probably naked.
“But what?” Dempsey asked, his voice soft.
She said, “I’ve been trying to call him back for two hours. No answer, no reply.”
Dempsey shrugged. “Maybe he passed out somewhere.”
“Maybe,” Seneca said, but it didn’t ease the free- floating anxiety she was battling. Something didn’t feel right. Bart was ten minutes late. He was never late.