by Kit Tunstall
After reading everything he could, Devon leaned back in the chair. He seemed to be wiped for a moment, and it was clear he found the facts disturbing. When he looked at her, he was haunted. “Did I read it correctly? He’s been through the enhancement program, but he doesn’t have the artificial intelligence chip?”
She nodded. “That’s how I read it too. It seems that he decided to undergo the procedure after there were several successes.”
“Except he didn’t want to surrender control to a handler.” Devon wiped a hand down his face. “From Caswell’s career, he’s good at this black ops shit. It looks like he’s done it from almost the time he graduated from West Point.”
She nodded. “He’s a formidable enemy. Especially now that he’s been enhanced with the DNA of a bear shifter and modifications to improve his healing, reflexes, and strength.”
After a moment, Devon seemed to rally and reached into the bag he’d set on the floor beside him. She watched with interest as he set up a small radio, recognizing it as military-issue. She arched a brow when he glanced in her direction. “Do you want me to leave when you talk to your teammates?”
He hesitated for a moment before shaking his head. “No, but whatever you hear is off the record. I know you’re chasing a story, but you can’t publish it yet. You’d just paint a target on yourself.”
She frowned at him. “It’s not just a story to me. I knew and cared about Joanna, remember? And the things I’ve learned have made me passionate about ending this project and exposing it to the world.”
He waved a hand. “Fine, but you can’t expose it yet. If you agree to that, we’ll work together for now.”
She hesitated for only a second, torn between reminding him of freedom of the press versus the anxiety of being without him now that she knew what she was facing, and there was a possibility they could somehow identify her involvement. If she printed the story at this point on her alternative webzine, they would easily be able to identify her. She didn’t have a large enough readership to make the story go viral and protect her from being silenced in reprisal. Her best and safest bet was to stick with Devon for now, continue gathering evidence, and hope she lived long enough to blow the story wide-open. She nodded. “You have my word.”
He didn’t seem to question that, and he showed no hint of skepticism at her promise. Clearly, he had chosen to take her word as good, and warmth filled her chest at the realization.
He soon had a voice on the other end. He spoke in generalities and what she was certain was a code, but she couldn’t quite break it. She would have had to record it and listen for several hours before being able to discern the secret patterns and crack the code. It was one of the areas where she excelled, but she didn’t have time to break it down at the moment.
This was a different code than the one Malcolm was sending out that she had intercepted upon occasion, sometimes managing to nail down the frequency and record a snatch here and there to piece together later. That code had been flawless and had taken her weeks to make even a tiny dent in, so she’d focused on tracking down information via other means, like electronic records.
Hacking into the Department of Defense had taken the longest time, but when she was in there, she had access to everything. It had taken her another week to get past the encryptions protecting Project Shift and follow the trail to Project Enhanced, but she’d persevered.
Devon quickly debriefed his teammate in their code. Apparently, he had relayed all of the sensitive data, because he switched to plain speaking when he said, “That’s where we are.”
“What’s your next move?” asked the voice on the other end of the radio.
Devon hesitated. “I’m not sure.”
Tianna licked her lips. “I might have an idea.”
He looked at her, cocking a brow. “What is it?”
“I think I know where another of your team members is. I was planning to go after her once I spoke with Twitch.”
Devon’s eyes widened for a moment, and he drew in a quick breath that seemed to hiss between his teeth. “Who?”
“Loris Tabor. I think she’s at the Bullhead Reserve, or at least around there.”
“Did you hear that, Malcolm?” asked Devon into the radio.
“Yes,” came the tinny reply. “If you trust this girl, check it out, but stay in contact.”
“Will do.” He returned the receiver to the radio before focusing his attention fully on her. His dark eyes were almost unnerving in their intensity.
They still sent heat spiraling through her stomach, and she was again reminded of the inopportune timing to be attracted to this man who was wanted by the government and marked for death.
“Where is Bullhead Reserve, and why do you think Loris is there?”
She reached for her laptop, searching for a moment until she found the pertinent file before showing it to Devon. As he read, she said, “This is a birth certificate. Thirteen years ago, Loris gave birth to a little boy at the Bullhead Reserve Health Clinic. It’s a Ojibwe reserve in Manitoba, which is remote and difficult to access. She doesn’t have any official ties to the band, but the father of her child and her son live there. She was fifteen when he was born, and his grandparents adopted him. It took a lot of digging to find this, since she was a juvenile at the time. I’m hoping no one else has made the connection, since there’s no tangible reason for her to go there. It’s just a gut feeling on my part.”
Devon frowned. “Loris never mentioned having a son.”
“She did give him up for adoption to his grandparents, so maybe it was simply too painful to talk about.” She shrugged. “It’s the best lead we have.”
He still seemed unconvinced. “I’m not sure she’d go there and risk putting her family in danger.”
Tianna nodded. “I doubt she would’ve wanted to, but if she had no other options, desperation might have driven her there. As long as she didn’t leave things in an irreparable state, I can’t imagine the boy’s father or his parents would’ve turned their back on her.”
He reached for her laptop, swinging it closer to himself. A moment later, he pulled up a map site and put in Bullhead Reserve. He whistled low through his teeth. “It truly is inaccessible. We’d better get some rest.”
She bit her lip. “Is it safe to stay here?”
He hesitated for a moment before scrubbing a hand on his face, looking weary. “No, probably not. It would be best to drive for a while and then stop.”
“We should take your SUV. My little hatchback will never make it through the snow.” It had been the first vehicle she’d purchased completely by herself, and she hated to leave it behind, but was realistic enough to know it wouldn’t make the journey. The tires were bald, it had an oil leak, and was already on its last legs.
As they left her hotel room a few minutes later, all of her possessions in hand, she still cast one last glimpse at the small hatchback. As she slid into the driver’s seat of the SUV, having volunteered to take the first shift driving so Devon could get some rest, she was positive she’d never see her vehicle again. She had a deep and ominous feeling that she had deviated off the course she’d planned to take in life, and she would soon be leaving everything behind if she wanted to survive.
Chapter Three
Hours later, she stopped near a small rural community identified as Green City, with the mileage chart telling her they were thirty miles from Harvey. As she drove through the town, she was mildly amused at the audacity of them tacking on the word city. There was a lone gas station/convenience store/restaurant, along with a couple of other buildings, and a single motel. That was what she was most interested in, though her stomach protested its lack of food. Devon roused as her speed decreased, waking instantly and jerking upright with an alert posture. “Where are we? Why are you stopping?”
“Gas, food, and sleep—though not necessarily in that order.” She pulled into the station, stopping at the pump. It felt good to stretch her aching muscles when she stepped out o
f the car, and she spent a moment loosening them before pumping gas.
Devon slid out of the vehicle too, coming around to join her. He leaned against the car, though his posture was still watchful. “I’ll get us a room. Can you grab some food and meet me over there?”
She nodded. “Any preference?”
He shook his head as his stomach growled. “Anything will do.” He hesitated for a moment before adding, “Except a convenience store burrito. Been there, done that, never again.”
She laughed a little, though she was too exhausted to feel true amusement. After finishing filling the tank, she went to the restaurant attached to the gas station and convenience store, pleasantly surprised to find it offered more than burgers and fries.
She ordered two specials of the day and scanned her phone for anything of interest in the news while she waited for their orders to be ready. There was nothing obviously pertaining to them, and she breathed a sigh of relief, recalling how they had splashed Wyatt Stone and his fiancée’s face all through the media just a few months before when trying to track them down.
When she had the bag of Styrofoam to-go containers, Tianna went back to the spot where she had parked the SUV and drove across the road to the small motel. Devon stood outside of the office, and he pointed to a parking spot near the end of the row. After parking where he’d designated, she slid out of the vehicle, grabbing their food and her bag in the process. Devon joined her to scoop up his own luggage, and then led her to room number-eight at the end of the row. It was a single-story, L-shaped building, and they were in the corner where eight turned into nine.
He opened the door for her, and she slid past him, her body brushing against his and lingering for a moment longer than strictly necessary. Tianna met his gaze, and the heat in his eyes stirred her own. Clearing her throat, she eased past him the rest of the way and set the bag on the small table.
This room was slightly better than the last one, because the furniture matched, and the room smelled clean rather than faintly musty. Most of the furnishings were worn, and the bedspread looked kind of thin, but someone had made an effort to keep it in nice shape. As she pulled out a seat at the table, she asked him, “Did they take cash for check-in?”
He shook his head. “I had to leave a driver’s license and use a credit card, but Malcolm gave me a safe set before I left Sanctuary. He didn’t like me going alone looking for Benjamin, but he understood I needed to find him, and it wasn’t safe for all of us to go together.”
She started unpacking the items in the bag, handing him a tray of chicken-fried steak and mashed potatoes smothered with country gravy. “I’d think it would have been safer for all of you to travel together, wouldn’t it?”
He shrugged as he took the container with a nod of thanks. “From a security standpoint, as far as having each other’s back, it would’ve been safer, but also more noticeable if we traveled together. It was supposed to be an in-and-out mission, and I wasn’t even certain I’d find Benjamin. I think I sort of expected to find him dead, but maybe not so freshly departed.”
Without thinking about it, she reached out and patted his hand. “I’m sorry about your friend’s death. It was partly my fault. He died to make sure they didn’t get to me.”
Devon squeezed her hand for a moment before pulling away in a gentle fashion. He kept his attention on his tray, not looking up at her, and shielded his gaze. When he did look up, all she saw was compassion.
“They would have killed him either way. I’m still amazed they didn’t target you, or at least not as an urgent threat. Benjamin was the kind of guy who would’ve gladly chosen to sacrifice himself to save someone else. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t be alive today. He saved my ass more than once in battle, and I never got a chance to repay him.”
There was an unexpected lump of moisture in her throat, requiring her to swallow a couple of times before she could speak. “I’m sorry about that too.” With that, she dug into her food, deciding it was either really good, or she was just really hungry. They didn’t speak as they ate, and she got full halfway through, pushing aside the container as she stood up. “I’m going to have a quick shower, and then I’m collapsing for a few hours.”
Devon nodded in acknowledgment, but continued eating. With his frame and shifter metabolism, he probably needed more calories than she did to maintain his stamina.
If she hadn’t been so bone-weary, she might have taken a moment to speculate how else he could use his stamina. As it was, she was too tired to muster more than a feeble curl of desire in her abdomen.
After collecting her things, she went into the small bathroom. It was worn like the rest of the room, but clean, and the towel smelled faintly of bleach and sparkled bright white. It was the quickest shower she’d taken in a long time, because she was dead on her feet. She didn’t even bother shoving her braids into a shower cap. Ten minutes after her shower had started, she was dried off, dressed, and back in the bedroom. She dragged herself to the bed and collapsed into it facedown. She barely spared a thought for the fact that there was only one bed as she drifted off to sleep before her head even hit the pillow.
***
She woke tangled in his arms, her body wrapped around his, and with his hand firmly between her legs, cupping her mound possessively. As full awareness returned, she let out a startled cry at the realization that he was holding her so intimately, and judging by the slick arousal in her folds, she had been writhing against his palm. Briefly, she recalled dreaming about sex, and had been on the cusp of coming. Apparently, that had been reality infiltrating her dreams.
At her startled gasp, his eyes snapped open, and he went rigid. His hand tightened around her throbbing flesh for a millisecond before he abruptly withdrew it.
“I’m sorry. I was sleeping.” His voice was more like a raspy growl than full words, and he must’ve been hovering on the edge of losing control.
The smart thing to do was to put distance between them to help him regain that control, but she didn’t move. Instead, Tianna licked her lips and met his gaze. “It’s all right. I was sleeping too.” She cleared her throat to remove the last vestiges of sleep from her voice. “I can guess what we were both dreaming about.”
Devon’s cheeks flushed slightly, and he appeared to be embarrassed, but not so much that he pulled away. Other than his hand moving from between her thighs to rest on his own thigh, they were still tangled together, legs intertwined, and her arms around him. She had rolled onto his other arm at some point, trapping it under her body, and it was wrapped tightly around her waist, his hand resting at the curve of her buttocks.
“This is awkward. I don’t know who should move first.”
She shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t either. Part of me doesn’t want to move, and another part of me wants to move closer, but I guess I should let common sense win this one and move backward.” It was more of a question than a statement, and she truly was torn on whether she wanted him to encourage her to move away or to stay with him. She let out a reluctant sigh when he started to pull away. Clearly, his common sense had won. Dammit.
He cleared his throat, and when he stood up, the evidence of his body’s reaction to hers was obvious even through his flannel pajama pants. “I’m going to take a shower.” He sounded gruff, but not mean.
She understood, because she shared his frustration as her own. Her body ached for release, even though her mind understood how sensible it was not to give in to what they had started in their sleep. They barely knew each other, and did she really want to be on the run forever? Devon would always be hunted, unless they found a way to eradicate the threat or bring it to light and win over the public support, which seemed unlikely.
That would mean making the existence of shifters public knowledge, which might not go well at all. They might be in bigger danger from the public at large than they could ever be from the operatives behind Project Enhanced. She still had hopes of returning to her life, though it was unsatisfying in its o
wn way.
Speaking of unsatisfying, her thighs clenched as her core pulsed. She waited until she heard the shower turn on before slipping her hands between her legs and stroking her clit. She bit her lip as she imagined Devon was in the shower doing the same thing, stroking his cock to alleviate the ache of desire. The mental image was enough to send her over the edge, and she let out a louder cry than she’d intended as she came, soaking her fingers and making her body shudder for a moment.
It was a hollow sort of satisfaction, but it was better than the on-edge ache she’d experienced before taking matters into her own hands. By the time he emerged from the shower a few minutes later, the towel slung carelessly around his hips, and wearing nothing else, she was dressed. One look at his still-damp body was enough to send her desire into overdrive again, and she quickly averted her eyes and hastily went into the bathroom, taking a few minutes to regain control.
By the time she came out and joined him, he had fetched breakfast from the same twenty-four-hour diner. It wasn’t as good as their dinner before, but she ate it. Glancing at the clock revealed it was a little after four in the morning, and she felt surprisingly refreshed, though she’d only slept about six hours.
Devon was acting as though nothing had happened, and she was trying to emulate that. Keeping her tone as professional as possible, she asked, “What’s on today’s agenda?”
“More driving.” He nodded toward her laptop. “I did some research last night before coming to bed.” As one, their gazes moved to the bed where the incident had happened, before she studiously looked away.
“What did you find out?” she asked.
“It’s difficult to get to Churchill, and the only route to Bullhead Reserve past that requires taking a chopper, boat, or dog sleds. I contacted Malcolm, and he’s smoothing the way for us as much as possible, but we might have to do some quick thinking and arrange our own transportation when we get there. Right now, we just need to get to Thompson, and then we can catch a connecting flight to Churchill.”