by Jolie Mason
Dear Readers,
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Best,
Jolie
Any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental as this is a work of fiction.
Copyright © 2016 Jolie Mason
All rights reserved.
CHAPTER ONE
Every choice she'd made led her right here, she thought, with a great deal of self-contempt. Eisley took a deep drink of the Carllenian champagne that fizzed, bronze and rich, in her glass. The simple design of the long, black sheath she wore complimented her very ordinary and somewhat mousy features, and hid her flaws, or so the saleswoman had told her. She hadn't made any special attempts at being the seductress in several years, nor would she begin tonight. This was merely a business function, after all.
She let her gaze run again over the coolly attractive head of the research department for Heinrein Enterprises who stood laughing near an ornate fountain. Max had a faux blonde on his arm, and his business smile pasted on his face. He wore a tailored suit of the most modern style, though he struggled to make it look unintentional; It wasn’t.
Eisley turned back to look out the transparent, Cyrillic based glass walls. It wasn't as if he mattered anymore, right? Max was a lesson painfully learned, she reminded herself.
Hating herself for being a coward, Eisley hurried away in the direction of the kitchens. She'd seen a recessed alcove over there somewhere. If she could just remain unnoticed till it was time to go… .
No such luck, she thought, when she bumped into someone going the opposite way. She turned to see the dark blue, formal uniform of a Central officer. "Pardon," he said quickly. "I wasn't watching where I was going."
Eisley smiled as expected. "Not at all. It's a hazard of walking backward, I'm afraid. I do that too often."
His laugh was a whisper across her skin, a whiskey dark sound like a night wind or a rainstorm. She felt that same tantalizing sensation of walking through the night, as she sometimes did when she couldn’t sleep, at the sound of that deep, rich laughter. She took a step back.
"You walk backward a lot, do you?"
She let her eyes drift over to the small, unwelcome party headed their way. "It's good to keep one eye on where you've been. If you'll excuse me …."
She started to move away, but he caught her with a touch on her arm. "May I at least know who you are?"
Eisley studied the man carefully. He seemed sincere in some level of interest in her, but she'd been down that road before. Still, this was a work function, and God only knew who the man was. Could she really risk offending him? With her luck, he’d turn out to be in charge of the military funding budget or something, and she’d end up cut off. "Dr. Eisley Manning. And you are?"
His eyes changed. They glinted with something different at the sound of her name. "Section Chief Samuel Mosebey of Chimera detachment"
She nodded. "It's nice to have met you, Chief."
"There you are, Pet," she heard the dreaded voice say. Too late to escape, Eisley closed her eyes.
"Max."
She was proud of the way she kept her voice modulated and calm. As if they were strangers. As if he hadn't destroyed her entirely and systematically ever since she stopped seeing him. Honestly, if she’d had any other options for her research, she’d have left Heinlein to escape him long ago. If she’d only known half of his real character and not the public persona, she’d have never been flattered at his attention. She’d been painfully young and unaware. Maybe a little lonely.
He was in his punishment mode right now. She realized it distantly. She'd rebuffed him in the lab today, again, and this was to be her punishment.
With the handsome Section Chief looking on, he couldn't have a better moment to humiliate her. Max looked her up and down in disapproval. "You should have worn the purple dress, Pet. It makes you look … healthier. I hadn't expected you to come this evening,"
She cringed. He was going for the jugular. She could feel it coming. At first, she didn't notice the warm hand on her side. "Eisley, you haven't introduced me to your friend here."
The Chief stepped closer, leaned into her intimately. She tried to school her shocked features. What was his game?
"Chief Mosebey, this is Dr. Maxwell Trege."
"Ah," the Chief said knowingly, and then squeezed her body closer to his almost protectively. "Trege."
"Do I know you, Section Chief?" Max gave him a superior smirk.
"No," the bigger man said. "I'm familiar with your work." Without missing a beat, the Chief drew her closer to his side and leaned in to whisper in her ear, using a stage whisper. "Love, where's that secluded spot you promised me?"
Confused, she said nothing, but continued to stare up at the man. "Did I promise that?"
He nodded once. "You did." Then, the man did the most insane thing she’d ever seen. Leaning forward, he brushed his lips over hers seductively. Never looking at the other man, he said, "I'm sure you understand." And, he led her away.
He kept his hands on her the whole time, constantly roaming somewhere on her body, as they walked away leaving Maxwell standing with his mouth hanging open like a fish. "Why did you do that?" she demanded.
"Why not? The man's a coward and an idiot."
"So, you know him?"
"I know men like him. He's transparent as glass. How do you know him, Dr. Manning?"
"These days, he supervises my research in genetics."
"And in the past?"
Eisley wet her suddenly dry lips. "We were involved." He had a knowing glint in his eye she didn't like at all. It left her feeling judged.
"You were lovers," he said.
She stopped walking. "Yes, Chief. We were lovers. I made a mistake when I trusted someone. It happens. Thank you for your interest, but it wasn't really necessary. I'm a big girl. I can handle a few insults at a party. It was very nice to meet you." Her tone revealed the lie in the last sentence. She started to walk away.
His hand reached for her elbow. "Wait. I'm sorry. You're right. It's none of my business, Eisley. I'm sorry."
She shrugged him off, holding herself tense, apart. It seemed to be a good time to fall back. "It's fine. I'm a little partied out, Chief. Have a good night."
*
Sam watched her hips sway as she made her way through the thinning crowd to the exit. He touched his comm. "I do not have her. Star, do you have her?"
The female officer's voice chimed through the comm in a casual. "Eyes on, Chief." Somewhere in the crowd, the woman was mingling with the elites of Central politics. And, she looked like she belonged among them. Easily. He caught a fleeting glimpse of the Doctor in the crowd milling about waiting for cars.
He approached her from behind. She never saw him, or gave any indication she had. Star moved toward the woman in the crowd. Her red dress blended in, even as it stood out.
"Crysler, get the car in position." His order would be heard clearly on the other end of the comm, even at his murmured volume. He slipped closer to the tall, curvaceous body of the Doctor. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't noticed some of her charms. She was hiding an elegant, hourglass body under that ugly dress.
In a perfectly coordinated move, Star tapped the doctor on a long, exposed arm, while Sam moved into position behind the two women. He turned the doctor into his arms. Her eyes w
ere half-lidded and blurred within seconds as the fast acting sedative took effect.
"Chief?" She registered his face the split second before she passed out in his arms. He caught her easily, suddenly playing the role of care taking suitor. Crysler arrived in the plain, gray car so like all the others in the line that it would barely be remembered.
Samuel swung the doctor up and rushed her into the car's wide backseat. Star rushed into the front seat, and they pulled around the traffic to leave as quickly as they could with their prize. He looked down once to stare at the confusing woman in his arms.
Her body moved like a song, fluidly and gracefully, but, if he was honest, her face was nothing special. She was ordinary in almost every way. Dressing to be invisible, the dress should have done nothing for her, but the dark black fabric against light brown skin was a particularly tantalizing contrast.
"Star, I think our work up was wrong,"
"What do you mean?"
"My instincts say she's not involved."
"Not involved!" she looked at him over the seat. "It's her bloody research."
"Yes, it is."
He let his eyes wander out to the night beyond the car window. The detachment was an experiment using enhanced soldiers with different skills to work in a group capable of staying off the grid and deniable. A chimera was a blend of two types of animals, as it was explained to him, like him. In fact, at first, he’d thought it was the only type of enhancement till some of the others had begun cycling into the unit.
It was her research, but was chimera her baby? That was the real question.
CHAPTER TWO
Eisley ran a hand up to her pounding head. She didn't think for a moment beyond the pain eating at her thoughts. She took a moment and tested her arms and legs, then raised her body to her elbows. She was wiped out, even after sleeping it off. What was she sleeping off exactly? She wasn’t really a drinker.
She knew the cloying feeling of drugs in the system. She'd spent enough time in hospitals as a kid. She began to take inventory. The room was sparsely furnished in utilitarian blues. The door was a secure type with automated locks which she'd guarantee were engaged.
Taken. She'd been kidnapped. Drugged and then locked away. But, why?
She made a modest income. There was no one who cared enough to pay a ransom for her. She doubted even her employers would be tempted to go to the trouble of buying her back. By now, they had the bulk of her research. Her job was the search for practical application.
If there was no hope of making money off her, then the only logical conclusion is that someone needed her brain. They were after her research as well. Well, they'd be waiting a while.
The potential for misuse of her research was too great. Eisley would never let anyone outside the company, where she had obtained certain guarantees, have these secrets. In fact, there were government penalties for using the research in non-approved trials that would guarantee a lack of profit for the offenders. Besides, she was in early days yet. Not even near human trials. It was a delicate process. She couldn't let these people get her research, even if they killed her for it.
She stood up carefully and went to the only unsecured door in the room where she located a bathroom. She cleaned up and used the facilities. Her wrinkled sheath dress looked pathetic in a morning after kind of way, but she supposed the very best of couture wasn't designed for kidnapping.
She heard the door open outside and stepped out of her bathroom to see the Chief. She used a hand towel as they stared at each other for long moments. "I'd really hoped you weren't involved. I liked you. To a degree."
“Well, that’s a ringing endorsement.”
He looked away, clearly uncomfortable with being a kidnapper. That allowed her to study her captor. Today, he wore casual pants and a plain button up, with not a hair out of place. He looked very handsome, for a kidnapper.
She sat on the bed, crossing her legs. "Well, you want something, Mosebey. What is it?"
"We want a cure."
"Pardon?"
His voice grew hard. "The men and women you've experimented on. We want you to fix us."
"I'm not in human trials. What are you talking about?"
"You haven't heard of the Chimera project? Even though, it is based entirely on your genetic research isolating and enhancing genes in human beings with animal DNA?"
He looked at her, stepping closer in an intimidating manner. That was when she saw his eyes flash gold yellow, just before he closed them. He stepped away putting distance between them. "Dr. Manning. I need a moment."
"What's wrong, Samuel?" She felt unwelcome concern creep in as she watched a strong man struggle with something she couldn't begin to define. His eyes changed color. That couldn’t be a good sign for him or her. Surely, she hadn’t seen what it looked like she’d seen.
" My condition is being triggered, or activated, or… We don’t know."
"And that would be?"
"Abilities, symptoms. It's a list," he turned back toward her, moving with the fluid grace she'd noticed the night before as well. "Enhanced night vision. Enhanced strength. Increased olfactory senses. Inhuman flexibility and balance."
"None of that is possible." She scoffed at the man because there were bounds to her sympathy. She knew her research wasn't advanced to this level yet, possibly never would be. "I've never moved beyond animal testing of my injections at this point, and, while my results are promising, they are nowhere near approaching stable. We don’t have a way of delivering the genetic material to the cell, nor can we yet predict what changes it would cause to the cell on delivery."
He walked to the control panel beside the door and pushed a button. "Send Thompson in here."
A huge man, shaved bald and with rich mahogany skin, walked in the door with a dignified gait to stand at ease and wait. His pressed tan uniform spoke of discipline and dedication. "Thompson," he addressed the man. "Could you give the doctor here a sample of your problem?"
"Sir?" The man's appalled expression created a frisson of unease in Eisley's gut. The Chief merely nodded his head her direction, clasping his hands behind his back.
Reluctantly, the large man began removing black gloves she hadn't noticed till then. He moved toward her. She instinctively backed away. "What are you doing?"
"You need to see what my men are going through, Doctor. First hand."
"I don't understand."
"Do it!" He barked the order at the other man who, clearly, didn't want to do something he was being ordered to do. Eisley tried to back away further, but the man called Thompson simply grabbed her forearm.
Her scream of pain was instantaneous, and the pain was burning, mind numbing. She hit her knees in two seconds. The pain abated as the man let go of her, but not quickly. Tears fought their way free of her eyes, pinched tight, even as her breaths fought their way in through constricted airways. She'd never experienced pain like that. Stabbing, searing.
She became aware of the two men slowly. Mosebey squatted on the floor seeking her gaze on her eye level. "Do you believe me now?"
Thompson stood, gloves replaced, steely faced and eyes forward. He was upset, visibly angry. She breathed in and out, scrambling for calm, but feeling more threatened than she had before this. "That can't be real."
"Thompson," the Chief said stonily without looking away from Eisley’s eyes. Her heart stuttered in her chest.
The other man turned his head sharply. "No, sir."
"Thompson." The older man stood abruptly and turned.
Thompson squared off with his commanding officer. "Respectfully, Sir. I don't need a cure that bad."
His words caught Eisley's notice. "A cure. What is it?"
She watched as his jaw worked. "Enhancements, Ma'am. I joined an elite unit, signed off on enhancements. What I got was a curse. I don't one hundred percent understand what they did to me, Doctor. I'm still not convinced they know, either. My touch sets off pain receptors to the brain, other people’s brains. The longer t
he touch is sustained, the worse the pain."
Her eyes fell to his gloved hands resting at his sides. "You can't…."
"That's right. I can't touch anyone. Can't be touched. Not even by accident."
Her nausea grew worse on her knees. The combination of fear and pain settled on her stomach to twist it up."I'm going to throw up."
The Chief helped her up, but stepped away, hands in the air, when she pushed him off. She stumbled to the restroom to heave dryly in the toilet. Behind her, she heard the disapproval in the larger man's voice as he said, "Am I dismissed, Sir?"
"Thompson, she had to see it for herself."
"Sir. Permission to return to my post?"
Mosebey sighed loudly. "Dismissed."
She heard the door open and close with a metallic click as it locked, but, by that time, the retching had passed a bit, leaving her weak as a kitten. A hand holding a dampened wash cloth appeared by her head. She took it with a churlish thank you.
"Well," she growled. "You certainly got your point across, but these experiments can have little to nothing to do with my work. I work only with animal DNA."
"Correct, Doctor." He offered her a hand up, which she ignored. "Your research didn't have much to do with Thompson, but it is the cause of my problem, and several of the others. You are one of many, working separately, we believe." He stepped back to allow her to stumble weakly to the bed. "If, as you say, you know nothing of it, your work is being appropriated. By your employers, I would imagine."
"Heinrein?" Her voice croaked out as nausea threatened her now empty stomach again. She gave him a dire glare. "What did they do to you?"
He gave a small laugh. "My problems are slightly less obvious at first glance than Thompson's. I'm an animal, Doctor, and I mean that quite literally."
She scoffed.
He continued, "My DNA has been altered. I have excellent night vision and unbelievably coordinated balance. I am stronger, run faster, jump higher."
She shook her head. "What's wrong with that?"