by Ivy Barrett
“From day one I’ve wondered why the Protarians would unleash a lentavirus they couldn’t control.” Her voice was hushed, her expression revealing her distraction. “Even if it was deployed on another planet, it seems foolish unless they had some way of protecting themselves.”
“You think Bryson lured you here under false pretenses?” Mal Ton asked.
“I’m not sure, but this can’t be a coincidence.”
“I agree,” Nehalem said. “So what can Bryson’s scientists learn from these women? What does he gain by bringing them here?”
“Are you Protarian or Stilox?”
Suspicion shot through Roark. He glanced at Mal Ton. The commander’s gaze was narrowed and he folded his arms over his chest. Roark wasn’t the only one troubled by Andrea’s evasion.
“I’m Protarian.” Nehalem’s posture stiffened and she pursed her lips. “How is this relevant to the mystery?”
“When was your onset illness?” Andrea headed for the doorway connecting the lab with the infirmary. “I’d like to take a couple of samples and run some scans. You’re part of the Protarian elite. It stands to reason that you would have been given the best care available once you developed symptoms.”
“When did this become about me?” Nehalem remained near Mal Ton. Neither made a move to follow Andrea. “If the Protarian council already has a cure for the virus, why did they send Bryson to barter with your government?”
“I can’t answer that, but these tests should give us a clearer picture of where we stand.”
Nehalem looked from Mal Ton to Roark and back, clearly at a loss for words. Andrea had a point, but her sudden shift of focus bothered Roark. “We are grateful for the risk you’ve taken on our behalf and this would give us an invaluable glimpse into the mind of the opposition.”
Mal Ton reinforced Roark’s comment with a rare smile and Nehalem nodded.
Sweeping his arm toward the connecting door, Roark ushered the spy into the infirmary. Andrea mouthed the words ‘thank you’ as she passed in front of him, but he had no intention of letting her off the hook so easily. He’d sensed she was hiding something ever since he met her and her odd behavior propelled his suspicions to the surface.
Easily anticipating what Andrea needed, he scanned Nehalem and took the appropriate blood and tissue samples. The beautiful spy tensed as if she were about to be tortured every time Andrea approached so Roark did his best to keep some distance between the two.
“Does anyone know you’re here?” he asked as he logged the last sample.
“I don’t believe so.”
“Would you mind sticking around until we’ve had a few hours to analyze and process these samples?”
“Of course not.” She slipped off the side of the treatment table and curved her hand around Mal Ton’s upper arm. “I’ll find something to occupy my attention until you’re through with me.”
Mal Ton led her into the corridor and Roark turned back to Andrea. Ignoring the other woman’s antics, Andrea stood at the workstation watching the results begin to scroll across the vidscreen.
“How could she have led Mal Ton to me? I’ve seen Mal Ton’s eyes flash like that woman’s did. How far along has his mutation progressed?”
Roark faced the vidscreen also, unsure how much he should tell her. Certain details were irrelevant to the cure and she obviously had no intention of cooperating beyond that one task.
“The mutation often imbues the victim with paranormal abilities, telepathy, telekinesis, clairvoyance. Mal Ton has been able to transmit thoughts for as long as I’ve known him, but his empathic abilities are escalating at an alarming rate.”
“She mentioned the Mutant Underground. What is that?”
“When people are no longer able to hide their transformation, many disappear into a closed society dedicated to the protection and survival of, well, mutants.”
She faced him for the first time since the others left the lab, leaning her hip against the workstation. “By closed society do you mean they don’t welcome visitors or do they live completely separate from other people?”
“They are amazingly elusive. We know they are somewhere on Protaria. Mal Ton believes they’re within or beneath the capital city. It was his search for information regarding their leader that led him to Nehalem.”
“He thought he was—pumping her for information when in reality she was giving him exactly what she wanted him to know.”
“Apparently so.” She scrolled down to the next set of test results so Roark said, “Members of the Mutant Underground have the most to gain by your discovering a cure. It’s really not surprising that they had a hand in your capture.”
“Here we go.” Activating the holoprojector, she stepped back as Nehalem’s full body scan appeared in front of them. Magnifying a cross section with a touch of her fingertips, Andrea studied the image. “There’s no way the original lentavirus created this mutation. The antigen is completely different.”
Roark pulled up a diagram of the protein marker from his archive files and overlaid it with the segment of Nehalem’s scan. “Good eye. It looks like the Protarians haven’t lost their interest in genetics after all.”
* * *
Daniel Keller jerked his arms out of the restraining hands of the guards as they reached General Bryson’s office. It had taken far longer for his wife’s indiscretion to wend its way through the gossip mill than Keller anticipated. He’d been expecting this confrontation ever since Nehalem sashayed out of his office three days before.
The door slid open and one of the guards shoved him through the threshold. They took up posts on either side of the door yet remained in the hall. Bryson sat behind his desk, arms folded in front of him. His dark eyes stared back at Keller like polished obsidian.
“Resume play,” the general said, and a holoprojection appeared above his desk.
Keller knew what he would see and still the image sent lust curling to his crotch. Nehalem’s lovely face was contorted with pleasure and her breasts jostled each time he slammed into her willing body.
“Was this the first time you fucked my wife?”
He couldn’t very well deny it when they were watching the act in full color and sound. “Yes, sir.”
“Sir?” Bryson scoffed. “If you had any measure of respect for me, you never would have touched Nehalem.”
“She makes no secret of her affairs. I presumed you lost interest once she proved to be infertile.”
“She’s still my wife!” He moved around the desk, watching the projection from every angle. “She’s always been a lusty bitch and I turned a blind eye while she attempted to be discreet. The more latitude I allowed her, the more outrageous she became.”
Did Bryson enjoy watching her being fucked by other men? Why hadn’t he deactivated the projection? Keller folded his hands in front of him in a useless effort to hide his erection. Nehalem had been hot and eager, her core so well-toned he’d thought he’d died.
Keller came with a muffled grunt and slapped her on the ass. Bryson finally powered down the projector. Now what?
“Why you?” Bryson asked.
How the hell was he supposed to answer that? “You would have to ask Nehalem. I developed an interest in her after I spotted her with Adoha and she returned that interest.”
“Bullshit. Half of the fun for my little whore wife is hunting down her prey. Was anything missing when she left your office? Could she have planted some sort of bug?”
“My office is continually scanned for microtransmitters. I apologize for my indiscretion. I honestly didn’t think you would care.”
“You’re either a liar or a fool. Where is she?”
“I have no idea. I haven’t seen or heard from her in the past few days.” At least the first statement was true. Bryson’s little wife couldn’t get enough. She’d been waiting on Keller’s shuttle when he’d finally finished up that night. His cock was in her mouth before they ever left the ground. He’d enjoyed her enthusiasm all throu
gh the night but the following morning she’d disappeared. With all the recourses at his disposal, he still hadn’t been able to locate her.
For a long time Bryson said nothing. “We never had this conversation. If she comes to you again, give her what she wants. Keep it going for as long as you can. She’s up to something and I need to know what it is.”
“You want me to spy on Nehalem?”
“This doesn’t need to distract you from your duties. If she comes back for more of what you gave her on the desk, use it to our advantage. I know she’s helping those damn mutants. See if you can find out who her contact is or where the hell she goes.” Bryson slipped back into his chair and restarted the security feed. “Somehow I don’t think you’ll mind the assignment.”
Unbelievable! How many times had Bryson watched this scene? Fury boiled within him and he clenched his hands into fists. He’d never intended for Nehalem to become more than an entertaining diversion. Bryson’s attitude and his suspicions made Keller anxious to take a closer look. If she had a vested interest in mutants, she might prove more interesting than he’d first thought.
“You may go.”
The general’s impatient order snapped Keller out of his contemplation. With one last glance at the holoprojection, he took his leave.
* * *
For the next two hours Andrea and Roark analyzed Nehalem’s DNA. Andrea’s instincts were faultless. More often than not their findings proved her hypothesis rather than leading her to conclusions.
“Get her back in here,” Andrea said passionately. “If she wasn’t motivated to take down Bryson before, she will be now.”
“Let’s tell Mal Ton what we’ve figured out and let him decide what to do with the information.”
“No. She’s been manipulated and physically modified. She has a right to know.”
Her breasts heaved and the flush across her cheeks had brightened to a deep rose. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine!” She raked her hair with her fingers and her other hand in the side seam pocket of her pants. “I feel like a bitch in heat, but I’m just dandy.”
He’d gotten so used to his perpetual erection he was able to ignore the pressure as long as his mind was occupied. “Do you need to return to your quarters before we tell Nehalem what we’ve learned?”
“No.” She licked her lips. Her gaze started down his body then she snapped her attention back to his face. “I need to find the switch that turns it off. I can’t spend the rest of my life with one hand buried between my thighs.”
He grinned. “Anytime you’re willing to explore alternatives just let me know.”
“Nothing helps. Even after you and Mal Ton… I woke up ready for more. Nothing makes it stop. I still crave you.”
Approaching her slowly, he kept his gaze fixed on her eyes. She hadn’t spoken of that night and certainly hadn’t admitted she still wanted him. “Do you need me or do you need—us?” He wasn’t sure he cared anymore. If sharing her with Mal Ton was the only way he could have her, he was willing to investigate the option.
“I dream of you every night and wake up on fire. Sometimes Mal Ton is there too but mostly it’s just you.” She shook her head, her gaze suddenly sad. “This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. Lust shouldn’t be an addiction.”
Maybe it’s more than lust. He didn’t speak the words but they rang through his heart and filled his mind with hope. “We’ll figure this out together, but there is no reason for us to suffer in the meantime. After Mal Ton left that night, you slept like a baby in my arms. We might not be able to drive back the hunger indefinitely, but we can give ourselves a few hours of peace.”
“Something is causing this hunger. It’s not natural.” She paused and he nodded in agreement. “So what happens if we figure out how to turn it off and I discover I don’t even like you?”
“I enjoy working with you. What little time we’ve had to ourselves has been comfortable and pleasant. I know I like you even when I’m not overcome with lust. If you find you don’t feel the same, we’ll deal with it then.” Part confidence and part genuine affection allowed him to sound so calm. He wasn’t willing to lose her so he had to take it one step at a time.
She nodded and glanced toward his office door with obvious longing. Did she want to play in his office or was she thinking about the adjoining bedroom? Either plan was fine with him.
* * *
Andrea dragged her gaze away from Roark’s office door with a sigh. “Let’s educate Nehalem then we’ll go scratch our mutual itch.” She’d started to make similar suggestions countless times over the last few days. All he had to do was lean in close and let his spicy scent fill her nose and sensations ricocheted all through her body.
“Are you sure you don’t want to—”
“Once I have you naked, you’re going to stay that way for a good long time.”
“Promise?”
She chuckled. “Promise.”
Roark tapped his audiocom and said, “Talbot to Adoha. Please return to the infirmary.” She couldn’t hear Mal Ton’s response, but Roark said, “Copy. They’re on their way.”
“If Nehalem is Bryson’s wife, how did Mal Ton get anywhere near her?”
“Mal Ton can be extremely resourceful.” Roark paused for a secretive smile. “Nehalem was on a quest to recapture Bryson’s attention so she worked her way through a progressively more scandalous string of lovers. Mal Ton set himself squarely in her path and allowed her to seduce him. He didn’t think she realized who he was, just that he was Stilox. Apparently, she was playing him all along.”
“That’s got to sting.”
“Oddly enough, he’ll probably admire her for it. Those who have bested Mal Ton are few and far between.” The infirmary door slid open and Nehalem entered followed immediately by Mal Ton. Their companionable demeanor proved Roark’s point for him.
“What can we do for you?” Mal Ton asked.
Andrea had been rather waspish when Nehalem first arrived so she tried a more diplomatic approach. “First and foremost, your symptoms are not being caused by the virus used in the original weapon.”
“How is that possible?” Amber light flickered through her light brown eyes and she looked to Mal Ton for reassurance.
“This is a good thing,” Andrea assured. “The virus affecting you is much less aggressive. You were led to believe the inhibitor is hindering your transformation, but I don’t believe that’s true.”
“Let me start at the beginning,” Roark suggested. “This is rather confusing. We found the antigen or protein marker left behind by the original lentavirus, but it has been nullified. You’re cured.”
“That’s odd.” Nehalem let her eyes flash with amber fire. “I don’t feel cured.”
“You were given a second, less virulent virus about eighteen months ago.”
Her eyes rounded and she covered her mouth with one trembling hand. “They set me up. They… mutated me so I’d seek out Fane.”
“Does Bryson know you succeeded in joining the Mutant Underground?”
“Oh, gods, Fane’s condition started deteriorating shortly after I came in contact with him. What if I made him sick?”
“We have no way of knowing unless we run tests on Fane,” Roark told her.
“No way. I’m not leading anyone else to Fane. If Bryson is on to me, I’ve put you all in danger.”
“You’ve also brought us vital information. We now know the Protarians can nullify their creation. If your DNA wasn’t tainted with the second virus, I might have been able to replicate their work.”
“So we’ll bring you someone with untainted DNA.” The fury in Nehalem’s gaze made it obvious she had someone specific in mind.
“Bryson is far too dangerous,” Mal Ton insisted. “Even dead I couldn’t risk bringing him here. Who is your second choice? They have to be in the highest order of the elite.”
She chuckled, a cold menacing sound. “I know just the person.”
* * *
Andrea turned around in a slow circle, amazed by the transformation. Darkness blotted out the skyline, leaving only the twisted shadow of ruined buildings and a vast expanse of starry sky. After exhausting their options in the lab, Roark had disappeared for a short time. Now she knew why.
He’d spread several thick blankets near the center of the observation deck and arranged pillows and oddly shaped cushions around the parameter of the makeshift bed. A low tray held glasses of wine and a selection of finger foods. The faint sound of rustling leaves and night birds reached her ears and she could no longer suppress a dreamy smile. Bathed in the moon’s silvery light, the platform seemed to float in the velvet embrace of night.
“This is lovely.”
“It requires a little imagination, but I thought you’d like it.” He tucked a stray strand of her hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering against her skin. “I’ve wanted to see you wearing nothing but moonlight ever since I brought you up here that first day.”
“Can we enjoy the picnic first?” If he continued touching her, she’d be lost and she wanted to enjoy a moment of normalcy before they surrendered to the demands of their bodies.
With a pained look, he inclined his head and locked his hands behind his back. “Of course. This was the best I could do on a whim.”
“It was a very romantic whim. I appreciate the effort.” He led her to the blankets and they kicked off their shoes then sat facing each other. “What were you working on right before you came up here? I know it wasn’t Nehalem’s case.”
He handed her one of the glasses and took the other for himself. “Are you sure you want to get into this right now?”
“I suspect it’s relevant to how we intend to spend the rest of the night. You were acting squirrelly even before Mal Ton took off on his mysterious errand.”
“I’m not sure what squirrelly means, but I’ll take your word for it.” After a quick sip of wine, he went on. “Your concern about conception the other night made me rerun some of your scans. I detected stritesterone in your bloodstream.”