She didn’t dare let down her guard and allow her cloak of invisibility to fall. Anyone could walk through that door at any time. The men’s locker room wasn’t somewhere she wanted to be found. Might be a little tough explaining to someone what she was doing in here. But holding the energy pattern was beginning to take its toll. Her eye was twitching again. It wouldn’t be long before she was blinking in and out of sight. Before that happened, she had to be out of the building.
A loud rush of sound alerted her that the decontamination showers were on. Thank God. Six minutes of chemical disinfectants pounding him inside the suit. Then he’d be back in the locker room, naked. Heat rose to her cheeks. Her pulse leapt. The memory of her breasts sliding against his hard body drove every sane thought from her head and made her birthmark heat up. “Stop it. Stop it. Stop it.” There was no time for this. They had a job to do. Her feet quickened the pace and she bit her knuckles.
The breath she’d been holding escaped in a rush when the door finally opened. Wearing nothing but a towel slung low over those sexy hips, he stepped into the room. “Alexa?”
“I’m here.” Her voice sounded strangled, even to her, and she was glad he couldn’t see her staring at the sculpted muscles she was dying to touch.
He didn’t appear to notice anything wrong with her voice and didn’t bother trying to look for her. “We have a problem, angel.” First he ran his hand through his damp hair, then rubbed a kink in his neck. “I destroyed everything in there, but two of the cultures are missing.”
Like a shock of cold water dumped on her steaming libido, his words sank in. She shook her head. No. This couldn’t happen. “Trent.”
“Yes.” Luke strolled over to his locker and pulled his shirt on. “The other guys told me he was really worked up when he came in earlier this morning.”
“Why?”
After pulling a pair of boxers on underneath the fluffy white towel he threw the towel onto the floor. “He got canned.”
Shaking her head, she tried in vain not to stare at Luke’s bare legs. What did that mean? “I don’t understand that term. What’s canned?”
“They fired him. Took him off the project. Gave him his walking papers. Told him to get his shit and get out. Canned.”
Alexa was surprised the seams in his pants didn’t rip open, Luke was shoving his legs into them with such force. “His employment was terminated? Why?”
“Because I had to be an ass and make a few phone calls.”
Was Luke clenching his teeth? She drifted closer, close enough to touch him, but didn’t. “I don’t understand.”
“I don’t either.” Fully dressed and ready to go, he slammed his locker closed. “Damn it! They weren’t supposed to do this until after tomorrow night. I guess the Colonel hated him too much to wait.”
Tomorrow night was the big party. The time and place, it was believed, where the Red Death launched its attack on the world. “So, Trent got mad and managed to walk out of here with M-6? Why? What’s he going to do with it?”
“Sell it, probably. He’s the only one who could’ve taken the cultures. I’m sorry”
Her knees buckled and she sank down onto the hard metal bench. “We have to find him.” The bug was out. She’d failed. And now, they only had twenty-four hours left to find Trent and stop him from killing them all.
“Damn it. I hate this. Where the hell are you?”
Alexa gladly allowed her energy pattern to return to normal. The moment she did, he pulled her into his arms.
Her mind in turmoil, Alexa rested her head against Luke’s chest and allowed the steady beating of his heart to calm her. Hell. It looked like she was going to have to kill a man after all. Trent had to be stopped. She couldn’t let anyone, or anything, stand in her way. And that included her own traitorous heart.
Reluctantly, she disentangled herself from his embrace. “Who’s he going to sell it to?”
“I have no idea.” Luke looked like he wanted to reach for her again, but thought better of it. “But he’ll be at the fundraiser tomorrow. That’s where the initial outbreak takes place.”
Alexa nodded. “How would you like to be my escort tomorrow evening?”
His smile turned her bones to jelly. “We’re going to need a plan. It’s not too late to stop this thing.”
“What I’m going to need is a dress for the party.” And a gun. Definitely a gun.
Chapter Five
“How long should we wait out here?” Alexa asked. They’d been parked a half block away from Trent’s home for over an hour. It was after midnight and they hadn’t seen any sign of him. Alexa shifted uncomfortably in the soft leather bucket seat next to Luke and looked through his binoculars toward Trent’s two-story colonial style home. The house was new, but built to look old. Red brick spanned the front and was accented by two white columns. Climbing rosebushes and vines covered the front of the home up to the top of the first floor windows. Several lights were on, but every single curtain was closed.
“Hell, I don’t know. Let me check my spy handbook.”
The annoyed look she cast his way made him want to kiss her. Before he could, she focused her attention on the house again. “Got a copy of ‘Breaking And Entering For Dummies’?”
“This isn’t funny, you know.”
“I know.”
Of its own volition, his right hand caressed her neck and his thumb feathered over her left cheek. As hard as he tried, he couldn’t stop touching her, couldn’t stop thinking about her. She was the only thing standing between the entire world and Death. And she’d trusted him. It was humbling. And terrifying.
Lightning quick, she pressed a kiss into his palm, then opened her door. “I’ll be back.”
She was out of the vehicle before he could protest, her black slacks and shirt melting into the shadows. If not for her hair, he’d have lost track her. Then, with a little wave, she vanished. “Damn it.” How was he supposed to keep her out of trouble if she kept disappearing? At least this time he knew where she was going.
When he reached Trent’s back door, he was rewarded by the sound of Alexa’s sexy voice cursing, and the door handle rattling. “Need a little help?”
“You were supposed to wait in the car.”
A chuckle escaped, despite the situation. “Sit still like a good boy while you go in there and get yourself killed? Not in this lifetime, angel.” He hated talking to air.
“But they can see you.”
“Yeah, and we’re all dead tomorrow anyway.”
Apparently she didn’t have a sassy comeback for that. Alexa reappeared in front of him and he sighed in relief. So far, she’d had no luck picking the lock. Then he heard a soft click and her soft sigh of relief. “Finally.”
The heavy oak door swung open silently and they both tensed in anticipation of an alarm sounding. Instead, an unnatural silence crept out of the house to envelop them in its cold embrace. The alarm panel next to the door stared back at them with an eerie green glow.
Worried blue eyes flashed back at him over Alexa’s shoulder. “Something’s wrong.”
He wanted to argue, but couldn’t. The very air seemed to dread their entry. Sliding his arm around her waist he forced her behind him. “I don’t suppose you’d go wait in the car?”
She tried to shove past him, but he tightened his grip. “Stay behind me…and disappear.”
The house was wrecked. Expensive artwork torn off the walls and smashed over antique chairs in the front room. Tables overturned. Lamps shattered. Plush couch cushions embroidered with scenes of nineteenth century social life, ripped to shreds. Dishes in pieces on the paisley patterned carpeting. Even the drywall was punched through. Holes of various sizes dotted the walls in a haphazard fashion where someone had obviously used a sledgehammer with gusto. Spray paint adorned two walls in the dining room with curse words and juvenile insults. Luke shook his head. “Looks like kids.”
Alexa’s disembodied voice answered from the other side of the formal dinin
g room. “That’s what they wanted it to look like.”
“Maybe.” He had a bad feeling about this. “Alexa, go back outside. Don’t touch anything. I’ll look around.”
Silence.
“Alexa?”
“I’m not leaving.” Her answer drifted to him from another room. Was she upstairs? His gaze darted to the circular staircase that hugged the left side of the marble-floored foyer.
“Shit.” He sprinted up the stairs two at a time.
In contrast, the second story was pristine. Gilded mirrors and paintings decorated the walls in precisely measured intervals. Artificial flowers sat undisturbed in imported vases that lined the hallway like sentinels resting on the hardwood floors. The quiet was more pronounced here, the well paid for perfection of their surroundings drove the silence home like an exclamation point at the end of a sentence. All the doors were closed. All but one. “Alexa?”
Where was she? His instincts screamed at him that someone was up here, waiting for her. Thank the Lord she was invisible to the naked eye. With her penchant for rushing headlong into trouble he hoped that ability would be enough to keep her from getting killed.
He crept closer to the open doorway and was almost glad she didn’t answer. If he didn’t know where she was, no one else would either.
The one open door loomed in front of him and he stood to the side for a moment, just listening. Silence. He slid into the room and looked around. Two ivory reading chairs and a burgundy loveseat huddled around a gas fireplace along one wall. Thick navy carpeting muffled his footsteps as he walked over to the sprawling antique desk across the room. The middle wall was covered in windows and floor to ceiling bookshelves decorated with leather-bound volumes of the classics. Books he was sure Trent had never read. But then, it was obvious that appearances meant everything to Trent. The entire house was a testament to his social ambitions.
The computer was humming where it sat in the shadows beneath the desk. He took two more steps before he saw the trails of dark liquid that splattered and slid down the front of the flat screen monitor. Artificial light flashed beneath the splatter pattern, casting a strange glow on the wall behind the desk.
Luke’s legs stopped of their own accord. He knew what he was going to find, knew, and didn’t want to permanently sear the image into his consciousness by looking.
Like a ghost come back to life, Alexa came into focus beside the desk. The shock in her eyes told him what she would say before she spoke to confirm it. “I think he’s dead.”
So much for ending this thing tonight. Trent’s death would multiply their problems by a factor of ten.
Alexa jumped back with a yelp.
He rushed to her side, blood pounding in his ears.
“He moved.”
If there was one thing he did not want to do, it was look down. Resigned, he dropped his gaze just as Trent’s fingers curled around his pant leg like giant blood stained leeches. “Shit.”
“Luke.” Trent choked and sputtered where he laid flat on his back, then spit blood onto the floor. “He took it. I’m sorry.”
Dropping to one knee beside Trent, he attempted to see beyond the blood. His boss had been shot multiple times. Chest. Stomach. Head. It was a miracle he was still alive. But he wouldn’t be for long. “Alexa, find me a phone.”
“No. Too late. Just listen.” Trent grabbed Luke’s forearm in a death grip. “Get the case back. He’s crazy.”
“Who?” Trent’s fingernails cut into his skin but he barely noticed. The only thing that mattered was finding out who had the virus now.
“Kline.”
Matthew Kline. He remembered the name from Alexa’s tale. Matthew was the man with whom he shared the privilege of being among the first to die. “Who is he?”
“He lied. Tomorrow. The Plaza. He said…” Trent rolled onto his side and blood slowly poured from his open lips like thick red syrup. The warm liquid slurred his words. “…we deserved it.”
Luke knew enough to realize that Trent’s stomach was filling with blood. Probably his lungs too. The paramedics couldn’t make it in time. “Why?”
Trent’s eyes closed, his last words were a sigh of surrender. “For playing God.”
Numb, empty, Luke stared down at the dead man’s face. If anyone had been playing God, he had. He’d created the monster and Trent had been killed for it.
Still staring at Trent, he was vaguely aware of Alexa as she unplugged Trent’s computer, kicked the side panel off, and smashed everything inside with her black boot heel. After just a minute silence once again surrounded them. His little time traveler was efficient.
“Luke?” Alexa whispered from somewhere behind him.
Luke ignored her, gave his analytical mind a minute to catch up to the horror staring at him through Trent’s lifeless eyes. What a mess! The M-6 was missing. Now Trent was murdered. This was rapidly getting out of hand. Who could he call? Would the Colonel believe any of this? Even if he left Alexa out of the story, the entire thing would sound paranoid. He now had a dead body and the missing cultures to back up his claims. Or get him locked away forever. The Colonel would believe him. But how quickly could the Colonel mobilize a team? And would they help or hurt his and Alexa’s chances of stopping this thing? He couldn’t just call the police. The Mutant Project was classified above top-secret. Word leaked out and there’d be mass hysteria. Streetwide panic. Shit would hit the fan so far up the food chain it would be a national scandal.
“Luke!” Her panic laced whisper caught his attention and Luke sprang to his feet.
“What?”
“Someone’s still here.” She jerked her head in the direction of the hallway.
“Give me your gun.” He closed the distance and pushed her behind him. Shock widened her eyes and made him smile, despite the dire situation. “Relax. I’m not an idiot either.”
Without hesitation, she grabbed the gun from her ankle holster, but refused to give it to him. “I’m an expert marksman. Are you?”
“I’m not bad.” He was an excellent shot, but he didn't want to leave her unprotected. Her raised eyebrows told him she wasn’t buying it. She handled the gun with such ease it seemed like a natural extension of her hand. Better to keep her safe. If he had to take someone out, he'd have to do it the old-fashioned way...with his bare hands.
“You think my mother would send me off into the big bad universe with no training at all? I could kick your ass right now or shoot you from a block away. My fingerprints aren’t on any government database, either.”
The woman had a point about the fingerprints. Then she darted past him into the hallway, and disappeared into thin air. “Damn it.”
“Come on.” Her voice was drifting toward the staircase just a few feet away. “He’s downstairs. Let’s see if we can get this guy and get the hell out of here.”
Who could argue with that logic? When he reached the staircase a blinking red light caught his eye. Seconds later a steady beeping filled the house. “Alexa, he tripped the alarm.” Motion detectors he’d paid no attention to suddenly blinked down on them with evil red eyes from every corner as if they knew their master was dead. “We gotta get out of here. Now!”
Neither spoke while they raced from the house. Alexa watched him wipe her fingerprints off of the back door handle, and then followed behind him like a shade, darting from shadow to shadow, sprinting back to his Cherokee.
Next to him, Alexa flinched when the engine’s roar was a thunderclap on the silent street. Luke pulled away from the curb, turned the Jeep around, and headed home. When they were a safe distance from Trent’s house, Alexa stirred on the seat beside him. “That went well.”
“We’re not dead, yet, angel.” Not the most comforting words, but the truth. “We know where he’s going with it, and I have friends who can help us.”
Strain was lining her forehead and draining the color from her already pale face. Leaning her head back against the headrest she closed her eyes. “We’ve got less than twenty-
four hours.”
Chapter Six
Alexa knew Luke would disapprove. She wasn’t in the mood to argue with him about it so she sat across from him inside the car with her mouth shut and counted the minutes. This was her mission. Her only reason for existence. If that meant she had six-inch knives strapped to both thighs and her 9mm handgun on her ankle, so be it. If she had to shoot a few people at the party to make sure no one walked out of there infected with M-6, then, so help her God, she was going to do it.
That included herself and Luke. She’d never been much for praying, but if she were forced to kill a man in cold blood to save the world, and then rot in prison on this planet for the rest of her life, she was going to need all the help she could get when it was time to pull the trigger.
The car stopped and their driver opened the door for her. As much as she hated herself for it, she fled the confined space and Luke’s knowing gaze like a panicked rabbit would flee a fox.
“You look beautiful.” Luke stepped out of the rented limousine behind her onto the sidewalk in front of the Frost Bank Tower and lightly caressed her arm. He looked drop-dead gorgeous in his tuxedo. No pun intended. “The dress is perfect.”
“Thank you.” What was the use in playing coy? She knew she looked good. But last time she’d checked, being beautiful wouldn’t help her stop a psycho.
What she needed was to stay calm, centered. Beneath this killer dress was her 9mm Lady Remington. Stuffed inside a matching clutch she had several rounds of ammunition. Hiding a large number of bullets had posed a problem so she’d left most of them behind. Standing there yesterday afternoon, listening to the pawnshop salesman sell his wares to the visible customers, she’d concluded that she couldn’t kill that many people anyway. She might be forced to hold them all prisoner in quarantine and watch them die of Red Death, but she couldn’t shoot innocent victims in cold blood. Even though a shot through the heart would be a more merciful ending.
Red Night ((Book 1) Timewalker Chronicles) Page 5