by Nancy Gideon
“I didn’t ask.”
But Jacques knew. To terrorize and control Susanna. To make her feel vulnerable and needy. To threaten the well-being of her child, then provide a blanket of protection to earn her gratitude. He swallowed down the growl rumbling for release.
“I need an address for Frost,” MacCreedy said.
“Work or home?”
“Home,” Jacques interjected. “I already know where he works. And where we can find the child, Pearl. She’s six years old.” He choked up unexpectedly and had to clear his throat. “She’s in some kind of community school dormitory.” Prison would have been a more accurate description.
Don’t worry, baby. Daddy’s coming to get you.
“I’ll have to look it up on my computer. It’s in my den.”
Hawthorne might have been a nasty little weasel but he was a weasel who knew how to wiggle his way around security red tape. In minutes, he had locations, blueprints, security passwords, and a picture of Pearl Frost.
She had Jacques’s blue eyes and the shape of his mouth, all pouty and full and ripe with rebellion. It took only an instant for him to fall deeply and devastatingly in love. He had to turn away to blink his vision clear, hearing MacCreedy order the pages to be printed.
“The photo, too,” Silas added. “And we’ll need security passes. You also owe me that list of Nica’s friends. Their names, aliases, where they’ve been, where they are—the works. Then you won’t have to worry about me ever popping up ever again. Unless you share any of what’s happened here today, of course.” His smile was cold.
Twenty-five
Susanna pressed a cold cloth to her cheekbone, wincing as the ache spread through her face. After three hours of isolation in her bedroom, the ugly red held the promise of blooming into blue, black, and yellow.
She’d seriously underestimated Damien. She knew him as an arrogant, erudite preener who liked to give orders, who prided himself on the creases in his trousers and the softness of his skin. She’d never guessed those manicured hands could turn so violent.
He’d stood over her as she lay sprawled on the floor, his face a florid stain of fury. “You thought to bargain with me? Fool. Go wash your face and take off those garish clothes. You’re embarrassing both of us. Once you’ve had a chance to adjust your attitude, we’ll discuss how things are going to be from now on.”
He’d left her lying on the expensive floor while he carried her laptop into his office.
She’d retreated to her bedroom, picking a loose, flowing beige knit top. Defiantly, she kept on the leggings and black flats with their perky red bows.
The bag from the airport bookstore was on her bed. She took out the drawing pad and made room for it in her purse. Inside the back cover, she placed the picture Pearl had made for her, the one of their future family of four.
“Soon,” she whispered, tucking it safely away.
And then she waited.
“Susanna, come down here.” Damien’s terse voice rang up through the open stairwell.
She straightened her shoulders and took a deep breath. There was nothing he could do to her. He needed her. Pearl was her weak spot, but as long as the little girl was safe in her restricted dormitory, he had nothing to threaten her with.
He could no longer fool her with that benevolent smile, with the words of a generous spirit. Now she saw the cold, grasping villain that he truly was. A master manipulator, living off the blood of others.
She was counting on that greed to negotiate her freedom.
Damien was waiting at the bottom of the stairs. When his gaze touched on the mark he’d left on her face, sharp satisfaction glittered in his eyes. Self-righteousness, cruelty, even a glint of arousal.
“I seem to have come to an impasse with your program security.”
Her expression serene, Susanna replied, “You’ve always been adamant that I protect my work from those who might try to steal it for unsavory purposes.”
“Unlock it. Now.”
“Why? You wouldn’t understand any of it. You’re just a layman.”
That brought a tic to his finely shaped lips. His ego couldn’t stand hearing that he wasn’t intelligent enough to comprehend or that his education was lacking.
“Then you will explain it to me in layman’s terms. Or do you need more convincing?”
She’d stopped on the last step so her position was elevated, then said, “You wouldn’t dare put another mark on me. One could be explained by a careless fall, but not several. You wouldn’t be so foolish as to think no one would notice and wonder.”
“They would only wonder if you were seen. Your very busy computer log suggests you no longer need to leave this house in order to be productive, so you will remain here, under my supervision.” His fingers curled about her wrist as he jerked her off that last step, then gave her a push toward his office.
Susanna walked calmly ahead of him, glad he couldn’t hear her heart pounding. She would not be trapped under this roof with him, singing profitably within his cage.
Her laptop was open and running on his austere desk. Instead of sitting down in front of it, she chose a chair on the opposite side of the thick glass block that was more aesthetic than utilitarian. There was a plate on one corner holding pieces of fruit, cheese, and prosciutto rolls. Her belly rumbled, reminding her she’d eaten nothing but the small bag of pretzels on the plane, but she refused to reveal any weakness by reaching for food unless it was offered.
Damien settled into his desk chair, his displeasure now apparent. “What are you trying to hide?” he demanded.
“I’ve unlocked the genetic code that binds and divides our species.”
He blinked at that cool admission and after he absorbed the financial ramifications, she could almost see the greed pooling in his mouth. Then his gaze narrowed. “Then why aren’t you more excited?”
“I was searching for a cure for Pearl’s malady, and it wasn’t there. The work has no value to me.” But it would have spectacular value to others. She watched that knowledge brighten his eyes.
“If it means nothing to you, why do you protect it?”
“Because it’s the only way to purchase my release. I’ll provide you with the passcodes. You can peddle the information to the highest bidder. And you will let Pearl and me go.”
He tented his elegant hands beneath his chin, appearing to consider her offer before saying, “I think not.”
Frustration rumbled alongside her hunger. “That’s illogical. You have no affection for me and you see Pearl as an aberration. My only value has been my work and I’m giving that to you.”
“But, my dear, why would I release my goose with her golden eggs back into the wild? That’s where you’d be going, isn’t it? Back to that inferior beast? Do you honestly think I would allow you to shame me again with something like that? You are so mistaken.”
She hadn’t taken his pride into account. A pride she’d abused by mating with her Shifter bodyguard. A pride she’d affronted by bearing a half-breed child. A pride she’d spat upon by traveling to the heart of his enemies to resume her illicit passion. It was more than ego; it was a personal insult born of his elitist prejudice. In his mind, she belonged to him. She was his shining accomplishment, a testament to his careful grooming, a reflection of him. And she’d betrayed both in a way he found beyond offensive. He simply could not tolerate her preference for a lower species.
So he’d ordered her lover killed. He’d pretended to offer salvation when, in fact, it was enslavement.
She owed him nothing.
And Susanna told him frigidly, “You will never see another dime at my expense. I will not work on another project. I will not use my knowledge to feed your hunger for attention and praise. I am finished here. Take what you have and be grateful. A generous parting gift considering all your lies.” Her voice quavered. “You ordered him killed after your promise that he’d be unharmed.”
“It’s so hard to find good help,” he sneered. “Ap
parently they weren’t very good at their job.”
“To think I admired you. You disgust me.”
That brought a quiver of response to his tightly clenched jaw. “Well, then let’s be completely honest, shall we? Why do you think I took you in? Why do you think I spent all that time and effort to direct your talents, to secure you positions, to placate your delicate sensibilities, and pretend to care about your traitorous causes? You were my discovery. Mine.”
He drew a seething breath and continued. “I made you what you are. I pampered and spoiled you because you were my protégé and oh, how others envied me. I let you harbor your illusions. I allowed you unnecessary freedoms and you repaid me by rutting with that stupid, sweaty animal. You polluted yourself with his dull seed. You brought that abomination into this perfect world I created for you. You tried to ruin everything with your impulsiveness and your unnatural desires, and yet you expect me to be grateful? You have no idea what I’m capable of doing to protect what I created.”
Damien leaned across his desk and Susanna knew a crippling fear. She wasn’t going to escape him. He would destroy her first. She saw her fate in the vicious intent gleaming in his agate-hard eyes.
“You think to threaten me? Let me promise you something, and this time you can be assured I’ll keep my word. You will continue to repay me with your finest efforts or I will have your monstrous progeny destroyed, as it should have been before it was allowed to take its first breath.”
Susanna came up out of her chair in an unholy fury, palms slapping on the glass surface, shaking with violent intensity. “Harm my child and it will be your last breath.”
Surprise, shock, then an instant of caution flickered in Damien’s eyes before his stare chilled into black ice. “It’s time you realized something, Susanna,” he said with a malicious quiet. “You have no power here.”
As he picked up the phone, the taste in Susanna’s mouth was the metallic bite of terror. “Damien, I spoke rashly. I take back my words.”
His lip curled. “Too late for that, my dear.” He dismissed her to turn his attention to his purpose. “This is Damien Frost. You have a child there, Pearl Duchamps Frost. A change in her plan of treatment needs to be made immediately.”
“Damien, no!” Susanna grabbed for his arm but he swiveled away, out of her reach. “Please!”
“I’m making arrangements to move her to the research section. I’d like a complete study to begin in the morning. Yes. I understand and I insist on the full battery. Yes, I’m aware of the possible outcome. Of course. I’ll stop in tomorrow morning to sign the required papers.”
Susanna sat frozen in her chair. A full battery for research purposes culminated in dissection while the subject was still living.
Damien ended the call. “Your security password. Now.”
The metal door swung open to reveal a small, eight-by-eight square room with one high gridded window to allow light in but no view of the outside. A cot, a metal study desk, and a chair were the only furnishings. The young girl with head bent over a notebook looked up, stealthily tucking whatever she’d been working on out of sight. Her inquisitive blue eyes darted past the school administrator to the large motionless figure behind him in the shadows of the hall.
“I was almost finished with my lesson, Mr. Chapman. Could I have a few more minutes before lights-out?” There was no defiance or pleading in her quiet tone, just a hopefulness quickly crushed.
“Gather your belongings, Miss Frost. This gentleman is here for you. Don’t keep him waiting.”
Without question or hesitation, she got up to retrieve a small bag from under the bed and placed the books from the desk inside it atop already neatly folded clothes. The paper she’d secreted away went into the pocket of her hastily donned jacket. There was no looking back with regret as she left the room to stand beside the stranger the school official fawned over.
“If you’d just sign here and here to acknowledge receipt. It’s not exactly protocol to request a transfer at this time of night.” He glanced at the name. “Is there anything else, Mr. Stone?”
“No. We’re done here.”
“Just go back the way you came in. Be sure to check out and pick up your credentials at the desk.”
“I will. Thank you. You’ve been very helpful. I’ll be sure to let Mr. Frost know.”
The pallid fellow almost smiled. “That would be most kind. We’re happy to be of service to such a well-respected family.” Without a word of farewell or even a glance at the child, he bustled off with his clipboard.
Small fingers curled inside the big, rough hand of the man beside her and were quickly engulfed. With the other, Pearl passed him the picture she’d just completed.
“I made this for you.”
“For me?” Jacques took the single sheet, surprise edging his deep voice.
“We need to leave. Another hall monitor will be coming by in a few minutes. I don’t want to stay here anymore. I want to see my mommy.”
“Do you know who I am?”
Those crystal clear eyes lifted and with an angelic smile, she said, “Of course. I’ve been waiting for you.”
It was all Jacques could do not to drop to his knees right there in the hall to hug her tight. But they weren’t out of danger yet so he had to hold to his role for just a bit longer for the benefit of the security cameras. Very softly, he murmured, “I’m here to take you and your mama home with me.”
Her hand clutched his. “We should hurry.”
Shortening his strides so Pearl could keep up with him, Jacques headed not for the elevators by the floor monitor’s desk but for a stairwell, slipping the badge he’d lifted from the stuffy administrator through the security lock to gain entry.
Once out of view of those watching, Jacques surrendered to impulse and sank to one knee beside his child. Pearl flung her arms about his neck and squeezed tight. He turned his face into her pale, soft hair and breathed deep.
“I knew you’d come to get us. I knew it,” she whispered.
“And I’m never letting you go,” was his gruff promise. He swept her into his arms and stood, carrying her and her meager belongings quickly down two flights of steps to the main floor where MacCreedy waited similarly dressed in black. He smiled at the girl.
“Hi. I’m Silas. I have a nephew just a few years older than you. His name is Oscar.”
A return smile. “I’m Pearl. I can’t wait to play in his big yard.”
Silas glanced up at Jacques, who simply raised his brows, equally mystified. He placed a hand on the blonde head and told her confidently, “We’ll be there soon.”
MacCreedy cracked the stairwell door to peer down the long hall. “The guard should be leaving the desk right . . . about . . . now.” He pushed the door open. “Go.”
Jacques briskly headed toward the exit with MacCreedy just behind him. He set his features into a formidable scowl and didn’t look anywhere but straight ahead through a dedicated tunnel vision. With their black leather, strong, loping strides, glowing eyes, and single-minded ferocity, Jacques knew what others would see: serious muscle-for-hire, and no one on the facility’s meager salary would step in their way with any questions.
Thirty feet from freedom. Pearl was relaxed in his arms, her head trustingly on his shoulder.
There was activity at the desk ahead. The night clerk returned to answer the phone and immediately, his posture straightened.
Jacques increased the length of stride, Silas doing the same.
The clerk’s animated conversation ended and he was quickly making calls. His agitated movements telegraphed his fear.
Twenty feet.
“What do you mean she’s not there?” the clerk was sputtering. “I was just talking to him. To him, Frost. She’s supposed to be moved to Research in the morning. Who the hell took her? You still have the paperwork?” His frantic eyes lifted, fixing on the two rapidly approaching figures and growing wide.
They rounded the corner, ignoring the desk t
o continue purposefully toward the exit.
“Alert security,” the clerk whispered before calling out, “Excuse me. I need to see some identification.”
They stopped as one, both looking back over their shoulders with an expressionless menace.
The clerk swallowed hard and managed to sound authoritative. “I need your IDs.”
Another motionless moment passed as sweat gathered on the clerk’s brow.
“Of course,” MacCreedy intoned flatly. He glanced at Jacques. “You go ahead and get the subject secured. I’ll take care of this inconvenience.”
Without a blink of response, Jacques continued for the door, letting Silas head back toward the desk to cover their escape.
“You there, stop,” the clerk called after him. “I need to see your paperwork, too. Stop!”
A soft blat of sound, then hurried footsteps. Silas reached past him to shove open the first of two outer doors, saying, “Go. Fast.”
Alarms screamed behind them. The doors automatically locked down, trapping them between the two sets. Without breaking stride, Jacques pulled his pistol, firing three rounds into the heavy glass. Pearl buried her face against his neck, hugging tight.
Arm raised to protect his head, MacCreedy lunged through the weakened outer door without breaking his stride, making a opening for Jacques to follow. They hit the cold slap of evening air and started running. Fast.
Their car was parked in the circle drive. Lights flashed as MacCreedy keyed the locks.
Jacques couldn’t hear the shots over the wail of the alarms but saw puffs of cement flying up around their feet. A sudden sharp punch in the back just below his ribs made him stumble, dropping him down on one knee. Silas snatched Pearl from his arms and grabbed his elbow, hauling him back up, dragging him toward the car, yanking the door open, shoving him into the passenger seat with Pearl on his lap. Jacques wrapped himself about her small form, becoming a protective shield as bullets thudded into metal and shattered the door glass. All the while, Pearl never made a sound.