“Mareea is the incentive to get you to cooperate.” Again, he pressed the gun harder into the girl’s temple and twitched his finger on the trigger.
“I’ll cooperate.” Ghared took a step closer. “I’ll do it, but you have to let Mareea go. Completely. She’s out of here or you get nothing from me.”
Mikale shook his head. “She’s not going anywhere. You’ll help me find Darina, but this girl comes with us. I may need her again to properly motivate you.”
Ghared let out a growl, and Mikale had to admit he feared the man. Without a weapon, he would definitely not have an advantage. Ghared was bigger, more muscular, and had a fierce edge that was barely contained by his skin.
And were those skeletons beyond the barbed wire tattoo on his arm? Something about the hollow eye sockets of the skulls made Mikale uneasy.
But I have a weapon. As long as he had the gun and the girl, he had the power. He just needed it to stay that way.
“What do you say, Mr. Timms?” He wrenched Mareea to her feet, poking the gun into her side now. “Are you ready for our field trip?”
Ghared’s expression wrestled with several emotions Mikale didn’t care to waste time deciphering. The man clenched his teeth and wiped blood off his split lip. “Fine. I need gas for my hovercopter.”
“Do you really think I’m going to allow you to chauffeur us?” Mikale rolled his eyes. “My pulsejet is charged and ready.”
Dugan moaned from the floor as he regained consciousness.
“And it appears my driver is nearly ready to act as pilot.” Mikale shuffled Mareea closer to Dugan and nudged the man with his boot. “Shake it off, Dugan. We’ve got to go.”
Dugan rolled to his back and rubbed his eyes. “I think my rib is broken. I can’t drive the pulsejet in this condition.” He sat up, pain etched into his features as he wheezed on each inhale and exhale.
Mikale decided right then and there that Dugan wouldn’t be around for repopulation. The man had been loyal and effective in his role so far, but if a mere broken rib could ground him, he wasn’t worth the trouble.
“My offer to drive still stands,” Ghared said.
Mikale shook his head. “Dugan is not my only associate. I have many loyal people.” He dug out his tablet and summoned Trevis, his next in command. After a brief conversation with him, he said, “It’d be nice if I could handle all this myself, but it takes people to put plans like mine in place.”
“People like Darina?” Ghared flexed his hands by his sides, and Mikale could tell the man felt something for the beautiful officer.
“Yes. She’s a centerpiece to my plans. Her role is pivotal to its success.”
“How so?” Ghared’s eyes narrowed as if his tiny brain couldn’t possibly understand the complexities of such a plan. Average people were so dull.
“She will be the mother of the next evolution of the human race.” He knew Darina would see the importance of such a title.
Ghared paused, his entire body growing impossibly still as he stared at Mikale. “Wait a minute. You mean Darina and you… you’re planning to use her to…”
“Reach my repopulation goals? Of course. I’ve looked into her, Mr. Timms. She’s superior.”
“No shit.” Ghared shook his head. “But she’s also not an idiot, Warres. She’ll never agree to your demands.”
“Well, I guess we’ll find out exactly what her son means to her then, won’t we?” Mikale gestured to Mareea, still blubbering next to him. “I gained your cooperation by threatening the one person you care most about in this rotten world. What makes you think the same won’t work on her?”
“Because Darina is always ready. Always.”
“She’s not ready for me.” Mikale smiled, thinking of introducing himself and finally being in Darina’s presence. He couldn’t wait to breathe the same air as her.
“Maybe not now,” Ghared said, “but she doesn’t hesitate. She’ll react, and you won’t know what hit you.”
“I don’t think that’s the way it will unfold.” Mikale’s tablet chirped, and he glanced down at the screen. “Trevis is here. Let’s move.”
Mareea let out another mournful sound. Ghared stepped closer to her, but Mikale got between them. “No contact.”
“She’s my goddamned niece. I’ll get as close as I want. You realize she’s the only reason I haven’t ended you yet, Warres, right?”
“If that’s what you believe…” Mikale waved a hand at the ridiculousness of his statement. “But I think this gun has something to do with it as well.”
“Go ahead and feel safe with that gun. That’ll be your downfall. Trust me.”
There was a look in Ghared’s laser-sharp blue eyes Mikale didn’t quite care for, but he couldn’t let that rattle him. Nothing could detract him from his goal, his cause, his higher purpose. Finding Darina would bring him closer to that purpose, and this sub-human was going to get him to her.
Mikale shuffled Mareea toward the door and motioned for Dugan to take charge of Ghared. Dugan hesitated, his hand pressing to his busted rib, but one glare from Mikale propelled him into action. He’d retrieved his dagger and after brandishing it at Ghared, he’d gotten the man to walk ahead of him.
They made it outside undetected by any neighbors. One benefit of the current world status was that everyone minded their own damn business. No sense in getting involved in the problems of others when there were enough problems to go around for everyone. Blind eyes were easy to come by.
Mareea and Ghared were piled into the pulsejet where Trevis waited in the pilot’s seat. Slowly, Dugan climbed into the copilot’s seat as Mikale got in with his hostages.
“Let’s review the numbers,” he said to Mareea and Ghared. “Three of us to two of you, and my people and I are all armed in some form. Try something and one or both of you will end up dead.”
“Then you don’t make it to your destination.” The smug tone of Ghared’s voice stirred hatred in Mikale’s gut.
“I always complete my mission. Maybe not the way I originally intended, but I do not accept failure.”
“There’s a first time for everything.” Ghared settled into his seat, his muscled arms folding across his chest.
“Just give Trevis directions to Officer Lazitter’s location.”
The sooner he found her, the closer Mikale’s plans would be to completion. That was all that mattered.
****
Foster wasn’t accustomed to having a lab assistant as sexy as Darina. How could cargoes and a tank top make a woman’s body so irresistible? It scrambled his brain, and he was in no position to have a scrambled brain.
Focus, focus, focus. If he didn’t find the cure today, he was putting everyone at risk. It had once been just about the world’s population “out there,” but now, with him basically a refugee, hiding out in Vermont, all the residents on his property were in the line of fire as well. If they were discovered, they’d be confiscated by the government like contraband and dismantled faster than he could say fuck you. Couldn’t let that happen. No way.
Shaking his head, he concentrated on the beaker in front of him as Darina held two ingredients for him. She stood close enough that her scent intoxicated him. Something a little fruity reached his nose, and he immediately identified it as the natural bath products Rasha made from herbs she grew on the property. He’d always liked the fragrances she’d experimented with, but combining it with Darina turned the aroma into something divine.
“Which one do you want first?”
“What?” He blinked at her, coming back from the erotic side trip his brain had taken.
She wiggled the two vials she held. “Which one first?” Her brows lowered as he stared at her. “Are you okay?”
He inhaled one final whiff of her and nodded. “Yes. I’m just finding it hard to keep my attention on the task today.” He raised an eyebrow at her.
A slow grin turned up her lips. “Might I be the cause of that particular difficulty, Doc?”
; “Most assuredly.” He elbowed her. “I can’t stop thinking about last night.”
Her cheeks pinked and sexy mixed with adorable to create a look Foster would never be able to erase from his memory.
“It was no big deal.” She shrugged and handed him the vial he’d reached for.
He paused in his work and gaped at her. “No big deal? You have nights like that all the time?” He didn’t want an answer to that question. Especially if the answer was yes.
He poured the first vial into the beaker and stirred it.
“What if I did have nights like that all the time? Would you think me a tramp?” She flexed her prosthetic hand, an expression on her face that Foster couldn’t exactly read.
“No.” He took the second vial and added that to the mix. After pouring it all into a test tube, he slipped it into the centrifuge and turned it on, a low whir filling the lab. “I’d think that you’ve made some guys the happiest they’ve ever been in their lifetimes.”
She rolled her eyes. “Does saying shit like that get you laid often?”
He put a hand to his chest. “You wound me, Officer Lazitter, with your suggestion that my words are not sincere.”
She turned to face him, her shoulders squared to his. “Rich bastards will say anything.”
Foster puffed out a breath and hung his head so his chin nearly touched his chest. “I thought we’d gotten past the I’m-a-rich-bastard stage.”
“Why? Because you’ve seen me naked?”
“No, because we made love last night. It wasn’t just sex. At least for me it wasn’t.”
She pulled her full bottom lip between her teeth and stared directly into his eyes as if looking for the truth. She needn’t look too far.
The moment Foster had touched her last night, he knew what they were doing was way more than two bodies sharing physical pleasure. Darina had flicked a switch, turning on something he didn’t think he had inside him. Something he’d thought his genetic engineering had purposely left out. He knew the government had toyed with creating soldiers without certain emotions. He also knew some GECs had emotional problems due to such experimentation. He had three on his property. They chose to live in cottages set apart from the others a bit, and he’d given them medication to deal with the highs and lows, but he often wondered about his own emotional range.
He was stoic.
He was level.
He never felt extremes.
Until last night when Darina lit something inside him that had been asleep.
“My experience with rich bastards tells me to be careful, Foster.” She squeezed her prosthetic hand into a fist then released it.
“What experience have you had?” He took her hand and ran his fingers over her knuckles though she couldn’t feel his touch there.
She watched his fingers move for a few silent moments then looked up to meet his gaze. Her eyes captivated him, swirls of brown and green that reminded him of the outdoors. They held him, made him want things he shouldn’t want, things he probably could never have. Not if Darina kept thinking of him as a rich bastard.
“Your prosthetic limbs are expensive.” She slipped her hand from his grip and turned it palm-side up. “But I couldn’t be a cop with a sub-standard hand.”
He had a feeling he knew where this conversation was going, and his jaw clenched as he waited for her to continue.
“I was in a pretty bad place after I lost my hand. Then the Anarch hit and pretty bad went to fucking terrible.” She paced away from him, the fingers of her prosthetic hand coasting along the top of his worktable. “I had Zeke to care for and Ghared… well, he and I watch each other’s backs, but I couldn’t do what I wanted for both of them in the condition I was in. I couldn’t be a cop.”
She stopped walking when she was on the opposite side of the table facing him, and Foster didn’t love that distance. He wanted to reach for her, but knew she was purposely giving herself space to say what she had to say.
“I needed money to get a better hand. Only one way a girl like me could get a large sum of money.” She met his gaze, but looked away quickly. “I found a rich bastard and convinced him to fund my cause.”
“And you were successful.” He gestured to her hand, hoping to end this conversation, wishing she wouldn’t give words to what she’d had to do to afford one of the limbs he’d designed. If he’d known her then, he would have made her a custom one on his own dime without hesitation.
“I suppose so, but that funding cost me more than I was willing to give. I was okay with handing over my body for a little while.” She motioned down to herself. “It’s just a physical shell after all. Then I got stupid and fell for him.” Gripping the edge of the worktable, she steadied herself. “I was the only one who fell.” She looked away, and when she looked back, anger heated her gaze. “I handed over my pride, my dignity, to some asshole. An asshole who didn’t want my heart.”
Foster instantly wanted to find said asshole and drag him from the back of a hovercopter. A low-flying hovercopter over the peaks of the White Mountains.
“I’m sorry you had to go through that, Darina.” He slowly made his way to her side of the table. When she didn’t shirk away from him, he tipped her chin up so she had to look him in the eye. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. I’m not a rich bastard. I would never treat you like anything less than an equal.”
She let out a snort. “Equal? I don’t belong in the same room as you, Doc. There are so many levels between us.”
Foster dipped his head down and brushed his lips against hers, softly, gently. In two seconds, the kiss became something more, something big. She reciprocated his efforts, her arms wrapping around his waist when his hands cupped her face. Her hips ground against his and flashbacks to their adventures last night filled his mind. Adventures he wanted to indulge in again and again.
When he pulled back and looked at her bright eyes, her swollen lips, her flushed cheeks, he said, “Did that feel as if there were levels between us?”
She shook her head. “No, but it’s a trick.”
“How could you think that was anything but genuine?” Her reluctance to believe they could be on equal ground frustrated him.
“Your kind are incredible actors.” She shrugged and stepped back so they no longer shared the same space.
Foster thrust a hand out to the worktable littered with vials, beakers, and ingredients. “I know science, not drama. I couldn’t fake the feelings I have for you if I wanted to.”
“Feelings?” Her eyes narrowed. “What feelings?”
Shit. He wasn’t prepared for this conversation, but her guarded stance with her hands on her hips told him he wouldn’t be permitted to ignore or reschedule the question for another time.
“Human feelings, Officer Lazitter,” he said. “Ones I didn’t think I was capable of having. Ones I’ve never had before. Ones I was sure had been left out of my genetic code.” He ran his hands through his hair. “Do you know what I woke up thinking this morning?”
“That you had to take a piss?”
“No. That I couldn’t wait to see you. Couldn’t wait to be in this lab with you. Even after we’d spent that time together last night, it wasn’t enough. I wanted more. I still want more.”
She didn’t say anything for long, silent moments, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her until she responded in some way. He couldn’t toss his newly found feelings out there and have her ignore them.
Finally, she stepped closer and pressed her palms to his chest. She stared at her fingers as she splayed them out against his T-shirt. Her left hand was warm, but her right hand sent no heat his way.
He put his hand over her real one, gave her time, waited.
“I want more too, Foster.” She turned her hand around and gripped his, the fingers of her other hand tracing along his tattoo. “I’m just afraid we won’t be able to have it.”
He dropped a light kiss on her forehead and loved when she leaned into him for a hug that was some
how more intimate than what they had done last night.
“I’m going to make sure we have it.” He stepped back and looked at the worktable. The centrifuge had stopped spinning. “Shall we see what results we have?”
Darina nodded and tugged him to the other side of the table.
Foster removed the test tube from the centrifuge and sent a silent prayer to anyone who was listening that he’d found something useable this time. More than anything he wanted to keep his promise to Darina. He wanted them to have a shot at happiness together. He wanted to be able to focus his attention on her. He wanted her to believe.
He prepared a Petri dish with a sample from the plague-inflicted powder he’d collected on the streets. As Darina looked on, he stuck a medicine dropper in the test tube and drew up some of the solution. He slid the Petri dish under the microscope across the room, and with a hopeful look at Darina, he released a few drops of the solution onto the sample.
“How can so much be riding on a few drops of liquid?” Darina came to stand beside him by the microscope. “I mean, it’s crazy. That medicine you gave Zeke will change his life, yet it doesn’t look like anything important.”
“It’s easy to make,” he gestured to the Petri dish, “unlike this cure.”
He leaned forward and put his eye to the microscope. Encouraged by the pink coloring and texture of the sample, he increased the magnification, holding his breath as he observed. If he’d finally found the winning combination, he’d send his recipe for it to Emerge Tech—if it were still standing—and get it distributed right away.
Then maybe he’d have some time. To pursue other endeavors. Work on the genetic problems of his friends here in Vermont. Get back to adding nerve endings to the prosthetic limbs.
Show Darina exactly what feelings he had for her. Show her until she was absolutely convinced he wasn’t a rich bastard.
He blinked a dry eye and focused on the view in the microscope. Pink had gone to black as he’d daydreamed.
“Fuck.” He pounded his fist on the worktable and had to fight the urge to sweep everything to the floor in a fit of rage.
Safe (The Shielded Series Book 1) Page 15