A loud pounding on the door snapped her head around. “Dr. Wilson, are you in there?”
Crap. She pulled the cell phone from her lab coat pocket, flipped on the light, and poked her head out the door, pretending to be on a call.
Hitting the End button, she looked up at her eager doe-eyed student. “Sorry, I had to take that.” Turning the light off and closing the door behind her, she stepped into the hall and checked her watch.
The young woman shifted on her feet, grasping her tablet to her chest. “I’m so sorry to bother you. I really need to see you this afternoon during office hours, but the schedule says you’re booked.”
What is this young woman’s name again?
Reaching out, Sandra touched the girl lightly on the shoulder. “Don’t feel bad . . . Brenda. That call? Personal emergency. I need to leave for the rest of the day and cancel my office hours anyway. Call Cal, he’ll get you onto my calendar for tomorrow.”
“I might need an extension on my experiment,” she said, catching her lip between her teeth and fighting back a look of panic.
“Not to worry. We’ll work it out. Would you do me a favor? Tell the class they’re dismissed. Let them know I’ll extend my hours tomorrow to field project questions.”
Brenda nodded, relief erasing her look of worry, and headed back toward the chattering students.
Sandra burst through the amphitheater door into the hallway. A strong pair of arms gripped her shoulders, pulling her into a solid muscular chest. She glanced down at the sleeves of Isa’s campus security uniform embracing her.
“Where shall I take you?” he asked. Fortunately, there was no one in the hallway to see her disappear behind his veil of invisibility. Behind it, they could see and hear one another but no one could see or hear them.
Sandra rapidly scanned the hallway. “Ladies lounge.”
Isa locked the door after checking all the stalls and confirming they were alone. No more than thirty seconds later bright light slammed down into Sandra’s crown, rocking her forward on her feet. She stood frozen in place, squinting against the blinding white light. A whirlpool of energy filled her, spinning and accelerating until it radiated out of every pore in her skin, blowing Isa back a few steps.
Her Calling enveloped her, and the walls of the bathroom dropped away. Soft, harmonious voices caressed and surrounded her, lifting her spirits higher with every note. Increasing in velocity as it came down through the top of her head, the energy spun around her heart and raised her arms involuntarily from her sides.
Angelic music caressed her as a voice spoke over the melodic song, addressing her silently. “Hope, Daughter of Eae, do you accept your place as a servant of this Trinity?”
“Yes, I accept my place,” she replied silently.
“Blessed be your journey. Hold holy your Center Stone.” She shook violently as two separate strands of energy vibrated down the length of her, nearly jolting her off of her feet. They intertwined and spun in a frenetic vortex, and then merged in harmony. Sandra gritted her teeth as the pressure built to unsustainable proportions, simultaneously warming and cooling the inside of her flesh. Without warning, the energy exploded outward, leaving an electric mist on the underside of her skin that prickled like a million microscopic needles. As expected, Dr. Tom Peyton’s image flashed in her mind. The buzzing inside her skin was Tom—how his essence felt at the cellular level.
The music reached a melodic crescendo, and slowly the light faded. Sandra lurched on her feet, back into full consciousness.
Isa grabbed for her arm to steady her. “Now what?” he asked with a look of worry.
“Now I wait.” But not for long.
Tom was on his way . . .
Chapter 9
SANDRA
Stanford University. Palo Alto.
“TOM?” Sandra stopped short inside her office door at the Wilson Longevity Lab, feigning a look of surprise at the sight of him feverishly pacing across her floor, his fingers absently combing through his mussed hair. As she expected, she hadn’t had to wait long. Only twenty-four hours had passed since her Calling.
“I’m sorry to show up unannounced. I’ve wanted to come for weeks. I hope you don’t mind, but Calvin said I should wait in here. Today . . . today . . .” He blew out a breath and pointed to the table in her office. “Let’s sit. I have something to show you. I’m desperate for advice.”
Sandra dipped her head and smiled serenely, wishing she had the ability to do a calming energy push like her mother. “Take a deep breath, and start from the beginning,” she said, closing the door.
“It’s the craziest thing,” he mumbled under his breath.
Consolidating some of the stacks of paper and journals, she cleared a space on the table for Tom to set up the laptop he clutched to his side. They huddled on the same side so that she could see his screen.
He chewed the edge of his lower lip. “I’m under nondisclosure; anything I tell you needs to stay absolutely confidential.”
“I understand completely. You have both my discretion and my loyalty,” she said, meeting his gaze with a focused intensity.
Nodding, he stopped chewing and keyed in his password. “I’m not sure what to make of it,” he said, his gaze fixed on the screen. “About a week ago, a small package was left on the chair in my office. Whoever left it there didn’t want it to be seen, but wanted me to find it. The box looked the same as the rest of the samples we get from The Foundation, the project sponsor. But it wasn’t . . . the same, I mean.”
“Oh?”
Tom stopped typing. “It was addressed to a different lab. No address, just a name. JOA Labs.”
Sandra frowned, unhappy to hear that piece of news. The name meant nothing to her. She made a mental note to research them later. “A competitor?”
He shrugged. “Don’t know. Never heard of them, and I couldn’t find them on the web. But what I think it means? Forrester wasn’t the only lab contracted for the work. The Foundation might be piecing the project out to multiple labs.”
“Was that out of the question based on the contract?” Sandra asked, having had only the barest of details about Tom’s current project.
“As far as I know, Forrester had an exclusive . . .” His shoulders slumped. “I’d hoped to publish the work once we made it to the commercialization phase. That was part of my agreement.” His cheeks took on a pale shade of red. “Am I being an egotistical ass worrying about that? That someone else could publish first?”
Sandra sighed and patted the back of his hand. “No. All research scientists dream of having their names attached to something significant.” And chances were that he would. Only he’d never be able to tell the outside world.
He gave her a weak smile. “Why don’t I back up and give you some context?”
“That would help,” she said, nodding in encouragement.
“When I ran into you on New Year’s Eve, I had just isolated some of the single nucleotide polymorphisms that were driving some genetic changes affecting the traits associated with longevity in some test and control mice. Then I noticed something else . . . something unusual in my earlier test subjects.”
“Go on,” she said, clasping her hands together.
“The telomeres that protect the end of the chromosomes were staying intact. There was no senescence.” He swallowed, and then locked his eyes on hers. “The mice stopped aging.”
Her eyebrows popped up. “That is a breakthrough.”
He shook his head. “But that’s not it. That’s not what I found.”
A chill unexpectedly rippled down her arms, giving her gooseflesh.
Tom’s eyes lit up. He pushed back his chair and rose. Suddenly animated and crackling with energy, he started pacing a new rut across her floor. As his enthusiasm heightened, her skin tingled, feeling his energy through their enhanced connection. Lucky for him, it wasn’t bidirectional. Lucky for her, it would make him easier to locate if that ever became a necessity . . . on the downside, she’d also know if he wer
e dead.
“The genetic material that we’ve been working with has never included the complete genome, only isolated genes. The package that was delivered contained samples taken directly from bone marrow from a test subject ‘number nine.’ I ran three samples through full genome sequencing. They had the same markers as the material we normally get, but here’s what didn’t make sense. The genome didn’t appear on the HapMap’s catalog of common genetic variants.” He stopped pacing, leaned on the table, and he said in a hushed tone. “Sandra? Do you know what that means?”
She stared at him, frozen. Her visions swirled in her head, her brain frantically searching for the missing pieces.
Excitement burned in his blue eyes. “The samples have male chromosomes, but whoever this guy is, there’s one thing he isn’t.”
“What’s that?” she asked, holding her breath.
“Human . . . he isn’t one hundred percent human.”
The remaining air drained from her lungs as his revelation unlocked the answer that had evaded her in the visions. The genetic legacy they would create . . . why she’d been the one chosen among all others. Clutching the edge of the table, she closed her eyes and shoved back a wave of nausea. That explained why the mice appeared to stop aging. The DNA at the base of Tom’s research was Nephilim in origin. An equally disturbing thought: how had they found a donor?
Tom’s fingers lightly gripped her shoulder. “Sandra? Are you all right?” Tom asked.
Opening her eyes, she nodded. “Sorry, I should’ve eaten breakfast. A little light-headed there for a moment. Go on.”
Tom rubbed his hands together and leaned in. “I know this sounds insane, but he’s beyond human. The only question I have: is this an already genetically modified human being? Or, is this how he exists in nature? Either way, what does The Foundation really want from me?”
Indeed. Sandra sat silently, wondering the same thing and contemplating her next move.
Tom ran his fingers back through his already tousled hair. “Say something. Tell me that you believe me.”
Belief wasn’t her issue. Bridging the gap between what she now knew to be the truth and how best to tell him was the issue. She laid her hand on his forearm. “I believe you . . . But maybe it’s time to tell me what you’re developing for Forrester.”
The tightening of his brow eased. “A DNA vaccine that can prevent disease.”
“Sounds broad. Which form?”
He met her eyes. “All of them. It’s meant to supercharge the immune system to eradicate every variation of disease. Even if we manage to reverse the effects of a few cancers and find an HIV cure, that’s enough for me. I know. Crazy, right?”
She shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not.” It would be crazy, and nearly impossible, if they weren’t using Nephilim DNA. Still, something about it felt . . . off. Likely there was more to the story, and quite possibly a different motivation.
“Yeah, but it still doesn’t explain the halt in aging. Hey, there’s one more thing.” He sat back down, chewed the inside of his cheek, and pulled a slip of paper from his pants pocket.
“What’s that?”
“Read it. It was in the package,” he said.
She read the simple cursive, and frowned at the careful letters. The handwriting looked like that of a ten-year-old child. It said, ‘Trust no one here.’”
Her eyebrows flew up. An ally? But who? Sandra wondered. The handwriting nagged at her. “Hmm. Interesting.” She handed the note back to Tom after stilling her trembling hand. She’d give it some thought later.
“You can do the work here. Covertly. After hours,” she said, solving his most pressing need.
“Will you help?” he asked, with a hopeful gleam in his eye. “Work on this with me?”
She smiled. “Of course.”
At least she had a starting point. But she held no illusions on the kind of reaction revealing the existence of angelic beings could elicit from him. After they survived that, then all they had to do was connect the dots between Nephilim DNA and saving Cara’s life. A disease-fighting vaccine? Could it be that simple?
“What did I get myself into?” he asked, dropping his head in his hands, spent.
Her stomach clenched. “Can I ask you to trust me?”
He glanced up, wearing a frown. “Of course. Why?”
She took a deep breath, wanting to ease him in slowly. “I think I know—”
A thunderous crash came from the next room followed by a string of expletives.
Chapter 10
SANDRA
“ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?” Sandra pulled Calvin’s lanky frame to his feet from underneath a jumble of fallen boxes filled with scientific journals and lab supplies.
Calvin cleared his throat and straightened his stylish black spectacles. The sheepish look on his bright red face told her that he’d been eavesdropping. He was the brightest graduate assistant she had—brilliant, in fact—despite having a streak of melodrama and a nose for getting into other people’s business. In truth, she was quite fond of him.
She glanced at the vent near the ceiling, and crossed her arms over her chest. “How much did you hear?”
Tom piped up next to her. “Sandra, I—”
She held up her hand to silence him, her eyes never leaving Calvin. “Answer me, Cal.”
Calvin looked from Sandra to Tom then back again and shrugged. “Sorry, Dr. Peyton. There’s an echo through the vent. I couldn’t help myself after I heard that the mice had stopped aging. Longevity is the focus of my thesis.”
Sandra shook her head and gave him a hard look. “That’s no excuse for a lack of professional etiquette. Thesis or not, our discussion was confidential. You had no right to listen in.”
He averted his eyes and wrung his hands, his neck blazing all the way down to the black Chinese characters visible on the skin just above his collar. “I won’t say anything. You have my word.”
Maybe his nosiness was a blessing in disguise. Despite his shortcomings, Calvin was loyal, and his word meant something. She wasn’t foolish enough to think that they could do this entirely alone. Hmm, maybe . . .
She tapped her finger to her lips. “I have a proposal for you.”
“What kind of proposal?” His eyes lit with interest.
“How would you like to work with us?”
Tom’s energy spiked next to her. “But the nondisclos—”
She grasped his forearm and mumbled under her breath, “Trust me,” and turned back to Calvin, adding, “But I’ll need your permission.”
“Permission? For what?” The subtle sounds of his respiration accelerating hit the lower range of her hearing.
“To hypnotize you. When the time is right, I’ll ask, and you’ll need to comply,” she said.
He stared at her, puzzled. “Hypnotize me, like you did at last year’s Christmas party? But why?”
“To make you forget,” she said. Who knew her little party trick would pay off a dividend?
“Bu-but how will I—” Calvin stammered with a pained look of alarm.
She grasped his shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you remember the parts of the research that will help your thesis. But that’s all. Everything else needs to go.”
“Why’s that even necessary?”
Sandra bit her lip, and her hand fell away. “For your safety . . . and for Dr. Peyton’s. Agreed?”
Calvin shifted on his feet and nodded. “Al-l right . . .”
“We need to conceal the connection between any work we do here and Forrester. Will you help?”
“Are you kidding me? Miss the chance to find out why Dr. Peyton’s mice aren’t aging? I’m in.” Then he broke into a wide, boyish grin. “We talkin’ corporate espionage, or what?”
She shook her head. “Not quite. Closer to ‘or what.’”
Tom stepped in close and whispered into her ear. “May I talk to you?”
“Excuse us for a second,” she said, and they stepped out into the lab.
&nbs
p; “Why are we involving him?”
“To do this right, we’re going to need help,” she said. In truth, with her playing two roles in the same Trinity, she and Isa lacked a third member. To build out her contingency, she’d need another body. Choosing someone not affiliated with the Angelorum would be the most prudent course. Calvin would be better than most due to his ultralow threshold for hypnosis and posthypnotic suggestion.
“I don’t know about this, Sandra,” Tom said, locking his arms across his chest and glancing back through the doorway at Calvin.
“You’ll just have to take this one on faith,” she said, catching a glimpse of her watch. “Listen, my office hours start in five minutes.”
“When do we start?” Calvin yelled from inside the storeroom.
“I’ll handle Cal. Can you start tonight?” Sandra asked quietly.
He pressed his lips together and shook his head. “Paula and I . . . we have an appointment with the fertility specialist. It’s the only time they could see us this month.”
She smiled warmly. “Ah. Good luck. I know how much that means to both of you.”
He blushed. “Thanks. Tomorrow night?”
“That works.” She looked over his shoulder into the storeroom. “Did you hear that, Cal?”
“Yup. Loud and clear.”
Suppressing a chuckle, she added remarkable hearing to Calvin’s list of traits as she and Tom headed back into her office.
As Tom packed up his things, his energy thrummed, hitting her in warm waves. “So, you were about to tell me something before . . .”
“I think it’s better if I show you . . . tomorrow night. In the meantime, I’m going to get Isa and his security contacts to find out more about JOA Labs and this sponsor of yours, The Foundation.” She had a sneaking suspicion who she would find—her mother’s fiery nemesis who also happened to be assigned to protecting the North American portal to Hell located just north of San Francisco.
He stopped packing, his eyes blazing with excitement. “This could be a major scientific discovery, Sandra.”
She sighed. “That could be true. But it’s also one that I’d bet someone else may be trying to protect. If they find out you have it . . .”
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